Sober Smiles

Disclaimer: I wish I could create characters that are half as compelling to watch and read about as Carter and Abby are. Sadly, I can't so I'm borrowing these two for a little while, with the promise to return them safely again when I'm done.

Thanks be to: Everyone over at the new coffee and pie board- the guys over there keep the internet interesting. Also thanks to my friend Tash, who, although didn't see this before uploading, is helping me out with another (much longer) Carby fic I'm attempting- she's a star. Also BIG thanks to OrmanGod , where would the Carbies be without you?

Feedback: I would love it- either on the site or by e-mail! This is just a little fic I came up with whilst re-watching season eight eps- hope you enjoy!

CARBY "The Letter" alternative ending- begins during the Carby conversation outside the bar. Alcohol loosens Abby's inhibitions...

"Forget Superman, I'll take Mark Greene."

Thank God I'd decided to come to the bar. Abby was verging on paralytic and seeing how the rest of our colleagues were in the dark about her addiction I guess everyone had chalked it up as being an acceptable way of coping tonight. But not for Abby, I couldn't let her do this to herself. Yet in her drunken state I found myself more willing to be open with her.

"If I knew you felt that way I would have shaved my head a long time ago," I replied, directing my gaze away from her.

A few seconds passed and then Abby cupped my cheek with her hand and turned my head gently so that I faced her.

"Is that so?" she asked sultrily and then cocking her head to one side and staring at my hair intensely, added, "Don't think I could picture you with a skin head."

I laughed lightly. Neither could I, too damn cold for one.

"And I like your hair," she commented, her voice thick and dark like the night around us.

She reached her hand across and delicately ran her fingers through my short tresses.

"Abby."

She inched closer to me on the decking.

"And your eyes, I like those too. They're big and round and dark as chocolate."

I began shuffling a little, uncomfortable with the way she was acting. In another time and place I'd be welcoming this but not now, not whilst she was in this state.

"Abby…" I tried again.

"But what I like most of all," she continued unabated, "has to be…"

She leaned in incredibly close, so close that I could feel her breath on my cheek, before whispering, "your lips."

At that she closed the remaining miniscule distance between us and pressed her lips against mine.

And it took every fibre of my being to conjure up enough will power to not kiss her back. But she didn't seem to notice that I wasn't reciprocating. Instead she continued her arduous assault on my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair.

When I pulled away I could still taste the cigarettes and alcohol that were lacing her breath. And despite that unsavoury combination I would have kissed her again just as zealously as she'd kissed me if circumstances were different.

As they were, I stood up took her hands in mine and said, "come on, let's get you home."

I'd considered taking her to a meeting but figured that would probably be more use in the morning and you weren't really supposed to go to meetings drunk, not that I didn't think they'd have made an exception in this case. But Abby can be so damn stubborn that I knew she'd refuse.

She grinned devilishly at me before attempting to stand and instantly falling. Luckily she fell into my outstretched arms

"Whoa," she breathed before hiccuping.

It looked like I was gonna have to carry her.

Hooking her arm around my neck I lifted her up and began walking steadily towards my jeep.

Abby relaxed a little in my arms and I thought that maybe the alcohol was making her sleepy. Or not…

I suddenly felt slight pressure on my neck, what the hell? I almost dropped her when I realized what she was doing.

"Abby!!!"

She pulled her mouth away from my neck and looked up at me. "What?" she questioned innocently.

I just gave an exasperated sigh. I didn't want things to start this way. Our relationship was complicated at the best of times, if things were going to heat up between us I wanted it to be for the right reasons and not because one of us was inebriated at the time.

"I want you Carter," she mumbled into my chest, "I want us to be more than friends."

Oh God.

I hurried the next few steps to the jeep, placed Abby down carefully and unlocked the car. I lifted her up again and gently placed her in the passenger seat before walking round to the driver's side and getting in myself.

A few minutes later I pulled up outside Abby's apartment building and a minute or so after that I had her home. She appeared to be regaining her sobriety to some extent in that she appeared to be able to support her own body weight now and even attempt a few steps. I helped her into her bedroom and went back to the door to ensure it was locked. I gave her a few minutes then gingerly tapped on the bedroom door.

"Abby? You decent?" Hell, she was always decent in my eyes.

I received no response so I slowly pushed the door open. I was greeted by the sight of Abby still fully dressed perched on the end of the bed with her head in her hands.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked crouching down so that my face was level with hers.

She looked up at me woozily. "John I don't feel so good."

And in a feat of dexterity and quick thinking I grabbed the garbage can just in time.

I held her hair back whilst she expelled much of the alcohol she'd imbibed earlier. When she'd finished I wiped at her lips with a tissue. "Feel better?"

"A little," she said weakly. "But I need to go to bed."

"Okay," I said, reluctant to leave her in case she vomited again but realizing that sleep was probably what she needed most.

I made to go but she caught my hand and spoke, "Help me get changed?"

I looked at her skeptically. But this wasn't a drunken attempt at seduction this was a friend asking another friend for help.

"Sure," I consented.

I pulled off her boots and socks and placed them a little way away from the bed. Next I removed her outer jacket and unzipped the sweater she had underneath. Averting my eyes from her black bra I pulled a pajama top over her head. I'd been hoping she'd remove the pants herself but she appeared to be trying to control her nausea and had made no effort to assist me. Taking a deep breath I pulled them down to the floor and replaced them with pajama pants. At that point the nausea became too strong for her to beat, only this time I wasn't so quick on the uptake and the comforter learnt the hard way about the dangers of strong drink.

Abby moaned and returned her head to her hands.

"Don't worry I'll clean it up," I assured her. I lifted her up off the bed and carried her out to the sofa.

"I'm sorry Carter," she whispered remorsefully, staring up at me sorrowfully.

"Hey don't worry about it, it happens to the best of us." I leant down and kissed her forehead briefly, placed another trash can beside her just in case and set off in search of bed linen.

When I returned five minutes later she was fast asleep. God, she looked so beautiful just lying there peacefully. I scooped her up and carried her back to the newly made bed and placed her under the comforter. I was too afraid to leave in case she was ill again so instead I pulled up a chair beside her bed, made myself as comfortable as possible and finally drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

***************************************************************************************************************

I awoke to a bright room with a pounding headache. The clock on the nightstand reliably informed me that it was 10:57. Thank God I wasn't on today. I sat up in the bed woozily trying to recall the previous night's activities. I heard footsteps outside my room and then saw Carter shuffle inside. Oh God.

"You're awake," he stated. His face was impossible to read.

What had I done? I hadn't slept with him, had I? I'm sure I would have remembered that. What I did remember was falling asleep on the couch feeling pretty lousy. He must have put me to bed.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

My voice came out croaky and about an octave lower than normal, "Thirsty."

"You're dehydrated," he said matter of factly. "I've put some coffee on."

"Caffeine's a diuretic," I replied.

He smiled slightly, "A weak one. Glad to see all that medical training paid off."

He disappeared to the kitchen whilst I desperately tried to remember more about the night before. The bar, the drinks, Carter finding me outside, kissing Carter… oh my God…

Before I could dwell anymore on that particular incident, the aforementioned person returned brandishing two mugs of coffee and a couple of paracetamol.

I smiled gratefully up at him and swallowed the two tablets along with a little of the bitter brown beverage.

"How much do you remember about last night?" he asked quietly, not looking directly at me.

Great, he wanted to talk about it now.

"Umm, I remember throwing up, " I answered truthfully, "and falling asleep on the couch."

He glanced at me inquisitively, obviously wondering if I was going to volunteer any earlier events.

When I didn't he questioned, "Recall this?" and turned his head so that I had a clear view of his neck.

My hand instinctively flew to my mouth. Oh my God, I did that? On the side of his neck was an angry purple hickey.

"I'm gonna have a hard time explaining that to Chuny," he chastised, but I caught the twinkle in his eye.

"I'm sorry Carter," I replied sheepishly, suddenly feeling hideously embarrassed about everything from the previous night.

He shrugged it off dismissively, "That's what friends are for right?"

Friends, sure that was one way of describing the odd relationship we'd cultivated for ourselves.

He made to leave but then obviously thought better of it for he turned back around to face me and asked tentatively, "Did you mean what you said last night?"

My heart sunk a little in my chest, what had I told him?

Realizing I was clueless as to what I'd uttered he informed me, "You said you wanted to be more than just my friend," leaving it hanging in the air between us.

I gulped. I'd said that aloud? Unsure how to respond I opted for the noncommittal, "I was pretty drunk last night Carter."

He nodded, his face crestfallen.

"Well, if you're all right I should get gone," he spoke in a deflated tone, "I'll come pick you up later for the eight o'clock meeting."

With that he vacated the bedroom and headed for the apartment door.

I remained seated on the bed berating myself that I hadn't had the courage to tell him how I felt when I was given the opportunity.

Clutching at straws I raised my voice, "I was drunk Carter, but I meant what I said."

Better to regret something you do than something you don't, right?

The sound of his footsteps halted and then became louder as he re-entered the room and watched me with interest.

Suddenly my hands seemed extremely fascinating things. Keeping my gaze steadfastly fixed upon them I continued, "I'm sorry about last night, I disappointed you, I always disappoint you. But you're always the best of friends to me, I can rely on you like I can't rely on anyone else, like I've never been able to rely on anybody before. But as good a friend as you are, I'd like us to be more."

I chanced a glance in his direction; his expression was unreadable. I hadn't exactly planned on adding "spill heart contents" to my 'to do' list today.

He placed his coffee on the nightstand and sat down beside me on the bed. Taking my hands in his, he stared intensely into my eyes and said softly, "Abby, you've never disappointed me yet."

And then, almost before I knew what was happening his lips were upon mine. I don't know who'd initiated it, I didn't care, in fact I didn't care about much in that moment except the feel of his kiss. His arms sneaked around my waist and mine curled about his neck. The kiss deepened and I leant back against the pillows, pulling him down with me.

However, all too quickly he was extricating himself from my embrace. "Abby, I'm so sorry but I have to get to work."

"What time's your shift?" I asked.

"Seven a.m."

I looked at him quizzically.

"I told Kerry I had a family emergency," he responded.

I grinned at him, "Family, huh?"

"Family, friends; tomayto, tomahto."

"Friends?"

"Well we were friends when I made the call," he answered carefully.

"So what are we now?" I pushed.

"Whatever you want us to be," he replied.

He leant down and kissed me again and I more than willingly reciprocated.

"I'll be back later, okay?"

"You better be."

He kissed me quickly on the lips before standing and heading for the door. He gave me a little wave, a "see ya" and then he was gone.

And I couldn't stop smiling.