TITLE: High Hopes
AUTHOR: christyedna
RATING: R, for Abby swearing like an effin' sailor.
SPOILERS: Next of Kin (which means this one's good.)
ARCHIVE: I'll most likely give permission if you ask. If you don't, and I find out, then whatever happens to you as a result is your fault. (Do you really wanna mess with someone who believes in the Law of Three?)
DISCLAIMERS: I'll claim to have written this and I'll claim to have whined for a week and a half about nonstop writer's block, but I'm not gonna dare claim to own Carter or Abby or anything else ER related. I don't want Michael Crichton to sue me and be too busy to work on ER, so I'm going to state plainly: This was done for my entertainment and Mel's. If you happen to like it, I guess it was meant for your entertainment as well.
FEEDBACK: If I don't get any, you don't get any (more fic, that is). My livejournal username is christyedna and my AIM SN is ThisIsEdnaB. My web page is http://www.stormpages.com/christyedna (you can get my email from there; I get enough spam as it is).
"nobody said it was easy
no one ever said it would be so hard"
-coldplay, "the scientist"
Carter ambled up the sidewalk, glad to be so close to getting out of the cold. This had been a long day and he was anxious to see Abby and find out how things had gone with Eric. He found her sitting on the front steps smoking. "Every once in a while you'll have a really perfect cigarette. Everything about it is perfect - the taste, the moment." To prove her point, she inhaled on the cigarette slowly, then blew the smoke out her mouth leisurely. "Of course, 99% of the time, it tastes like crap."
Carter climbed a few steps and sat next to Abby. "It causes cancer," he said.
"That too." Abby lowered her hand and looked at her feet.
"I left you a message," Carter offered hopefully. "How'd it go?"
"With what?" Abby took another drag off her cigarette.
"With your brother." Carter half expected an answer, but he wasn't too surprised when Abby exhaled smoke instead of saying something. "Are you gonna let me in or do I have to guess, or-"
"Nothing happened," Abby interrupted.
"Nothing?" He waited again for an answer, and again he got none. "Come on," he said, trying to coax the story out of her.
"Despite the best-laid plans, nothing happened," Abby said, then clarified, "Mostly because they left." She took yet another drag and looked down again.
"What?" Carter couldn't believe he was hearing this.
"They went off into the sunset together. It was very romantic," Abby replied sardonically, blowing smoke into the night air.
"Wait, your mom and Eric, they're gone?" Carter still wasn't sure he was hearing this right.
"I don't really want to talk about this right now, 'cause it's ruining my perfect smoke." Abby waved the cigarette in the air to indicate she had other things on her mind than her family.
Carter raised his eyebrow in disbelief, then lowered it in sympathy. "I'm sorry," he offered.
"It's okay. I'm done." She dropped her cigarette to the step, then pressed it flat with her shoe to make sure it was out. "I'm done with the both of them. I'm done with all of it." She stood and walked up the stairs to the front door. "Cancel Christmas," she remarked bitterly. Abby walked inside the apartment, leaving the door open. She half-expected Carter to follow her. It took him a few minutes, but he did.
"Abby, are you sure you don't want to talk about this?" he asked as he took his coat off. "There's still a lot you didn't tell me here." He looked around the living room and the bedroom for her, then checked the kitchen and called out for her. "Abby?" His voice was tinged with worry. He knew in his heart she wasn't going to do anything extreme, but that didn't mean she wasn't thinking about it.
He found her standing on a step stool in the bathroom, pulling photo albums out of the linen closet. At her feet was a large box, into which she carelessly dropped the heavy books as she pulled them one by one from the top shelf. "What are you doing?" Carter asked.
"Guess I'm not going to be needing these anymore," Abby mused, flipping through the pages of a leather-bound album. She slammed it shut and dropped it forcefully into the box at her feet, then looked directly at him. "You might call it cleaning house."
Carter stepped between Abby, who because of the stool was above his eye level, and the box. "You can't really be getting rid of these," he whispered.
Abby reached into the closet for another volume, and then leaned over Carter's shoulder to drop the book in the box. "Why not?" she challenged. She brushed her bangs back from her forehead and went back into the closet for the last of the albums. Carter reached out to take the book from her, but she held tightly to it and looked at him with angry eyes. "Let it go," she said plainly.
"No," Carter answered, equally plain and simple.
"Give me the book," Abby demanded, pulling on it to try to take it back.
"Not until you tell me why you appear to be throwing it away, along with all the others you have here." Carter was struggling to keep his voice calm; there was nothing he could do to make her feel better and he felt terrible for it, but he wasn't about to let her make the situation any worse. Abby didn't relent; she held tightly to the album and pulled on it once again. "I'm not letting go of it," Carter said. "You might as well let me have it."
"Oh, I'm about to," Abby whispered, breathing hard. "Just let me finish this, I'll only be a minute."
"What are you doing, Abby?" Carter whispered. "You want to throw this out? Is it going to make it any easier for you if you can't look back on the good times and laugh?"
Abby practically threw the album at him and jumped down from the stool. "Fuck you, Carter," she hissed as she stormed off. "You always think you can make it okay, but it's not going to work this time."
"Where the hell are you going?" he asked, running after her, still holding the book.
"I don't know," Abby spat as she pulled on her coat. "But you might consider not being here when I get back, because you aren't going to want to be around me tonight." She unlocked the door and let herself outside.
Carter stood there and watched her leave, then flinched as she slammed the door behind her. Finally his mind caught up with his body. He placed the book on an end table and headed toward the front door to go after her, barely remembering to close the door behind him.
He headed down the cold street, wishing with part of his mind that he'd thought to bring a jacket, but decided not to turn back because that meant losing time in his need to find Abby and bring her home and settle this. Maybe not make it better, maybe not make her feel at peace with it, but at least settle it for the night to the point where he could tuck her into bed, rock her to sleep, and pray that it might all look clearer in the morning.
He had no idea which direction she'd taken; she had a habit of going for a walk when things got to be too much to handle, but it was so cold he didn't know if she'd follow that pattern this night. He'd never seen her so upset before and he literally didn't have a clue where to begin his search.
He headed toward the El platform, thinking maybe she'd gone downtown for coffee or (he hoped not) a drink.
**
Abby thundered down the steps and took off running down the sidewalk, tears streaming down her face as she moved. After a block or two of sprinting, her lungs started to burn from the nicotine and the cold air of the night, so she slowed to a walk and began rummaging in her pocket for a tissue. No point being out in public looking like a complete mess.
She stopped completely when she realised she had no idea where she was headed. Finally she threw her hands up in the air and shook her head, then reached into her pocket once more for her cigarettes. "Damn it," she hissed, bringing her empty hand out into the cold air. She spun on her heel and headed in the direction of home, even if only to stick her head in the door and then take off again.
No way in hell she was going to sit through a night of Carter trying to make her feel better. It just wasn't going to happen after the day she'd had. Her feet hit the sidewalk harder with each step, until she was practically stomping up the stairs to her front door. She tried the knob, knowing that Carter was going to be home trying to get her photos back on the shelf before she returned. She swore again when she found the door locked, knocked hard a few times, and turned around to sit on the top step when there was no answer.
No smokes, no keys, no clue where Carter was... Could this night get any better? She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and hit the speed dial key for Susan's home. "Hey," she greeted. "You doing anything tonight?"
"Not unless you count watching my toenails dry while I wait for Conan to come on," Susan replied dryly.
"I thought tonight was salsa night," Abby commented.
"It was, until Chen ditched me earlier." Susan sounded slightly bitter about it. "What's going on?"
"I yelled at Carter before and took off, now I'm home but he's not, and I have no keys. You mind if I come over?"
"God no," Susan answered. "I can pick you up if you want."
"Don't worry about it; I'll take the El," Abby replied. "Don't want to ruin the toenails, do you?"
Susan chuckled lightly. "Like I won't just paint them again in two days. You seriously want to take the El?"
"I need some time to cool off," Abby answered. "I'll explain the whole thing when I get there." The conversation lulled for a second. "You want me to bring anything?"
"Just your smiling face," Susan said.
"If that's what you want, I might be a while," Abby mumbled. "I'll see you in a little bit." She flipped the phone closed and sighed, getting up slowly and heading down the steps toward the El station, thankful that she had enough money in her pocket to get her across town.
**
Carter was practically a wreck as he got off the train near County. He walked down the street toward the emergency entrance and strode through the doors to get into the heat. "I thought we'd finally gotten rid of you," Randi greeted.
"Nice to see you too," Carter answered. "You seen Abby?"
"She's not on till tomorrow," she replied. "Today's the last day of her vacation."
"I know that," Carter answered, trying to mask his frustration. "I just wanted to see if she'd stopped by."
"Haven't seen her," was the reply as Randi picked up the ringing phone, flashing Carter a sympathetic look.
"Damn," Carter muttered, turning on his heel and heading for the door. He'd almost made it outside when Gallant came up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Didn't you leave an hour ago, Dr Carter?" Gallant asked, a befuddled expression on his face.
"I did," Carter replied. "I had to come back to try and find-" He stopped suddenly and tried to think of an excuse. "I thought I left something here, but I guess it's somewhere else." There. That about covered the truth.
"Hope you aren't talking about your jacket," Gallant countered. "It's freezing out there." The med student had been pulling on his own coat when he'd greeted Carter and was headed behind him out the door.
"Not my jacket," Carter mused. "This is way more important than keeping warm."
**
Abby decided to skip the El and walk to Susan's. It was going to give her more time to calm down before she got there. Now that she wasn't crying, it didn't seem to be too bad out.
The walk seemed to go by pretty quickly, and Abby soon reached her friend's home. She knocked a few times on the door and Susan answered almost immediately. Abby had to smile when she observed the sight of her friend with toilet paper twisted around each of her toes. "You should think about wearing that to work," she joked after Susan had let her in.
Susan took Abby's coat from her to hang it on the hook by her front door and brushed her hand against Abby's in the process. "God," she exclaimed, "Did the heating system on the train go out again?"
"No," Abby offered awkwardly. "I walked."
"Excuse me?" Susan couldn't believe what she'd just heard. It was only about twenty degrees outside – there was still snow on the ground from the previous week's storm. Abby didn't say anything; she only looked at her feet in the desperate hope of avoiding a lecture from her friend. "You walked from your place to here in this weather? Abby, are you on crack?"
"I assure you, I'm completely sober. Completely. Call Carter if you don't believe me." Abby gestured to her coat for Susan to pull out the cell phone.
"I trust you, but why the hell did you walk?" Susan remained befuddled.
"I had to get a few things off my mind before I came over. I didn't think there'd be time to do that if I took the train, and I was already out walking, so I just kept on walking, and here I am." Abby paused for a breath. "But now I know you're going to ask me what I had to get off my mind, and I'm not going to hear the end of it unless I tell you. Is that pretty much right?" she asked.
"That about covers it," Susan answered. "You want some tea or something? Your hands are like ice."
"That'd be great," Abby replied. She followed Susan into the kitchen and busied herself with setting napkins and a couple of spoons on the table.
"So what's up?" Susan asked when they were settled, each with a steaming mug.
"What isn't?" Abby asked back, trying to fake a chuckle and failing miserably. Susan, to her credit, didn't try to coax her friend to spill her guts, she just waited patiently for Abby to tell her story.
**
Carter was getting annoyed very quickly. Not only was he missing Abby, he didn't have his cell phone to call her, and now there was one other problem. Gallant insisted on following him around to make sure he found what he was looking for, offering suggestions at every turn. Carter was struggling to keep from becoming angry with his student, but his efforts were becoming less and less fruitful as the seconds wore on. "Under the seat of your car," Gallant offered.
"Won't fit," Carter replied. "It's way bigger than that."
"So it's bigger than a breadbox," Gallant tried, grinning at his own joke.
"Way bigger," Carter said bitterly. He turned to face the younger man suddenly and hoped he wasn't coming off like a jerk. "Look, I can't find Abby and I really need to get a hold of her. Do you happen to have a phone on you?" Carter asked.
"Can't say I do," Gallant answered. "Forgot mine on the kitchen counter this morning. The battery's probably fried from overcharging it."
"If this is the first time you've done it, it should be fine," Carter mused, reaching to work the rapidly spreading tension out of his neck. "If you don't mind, I'm going to try and find her. She was pretty upset when she left earlier."
Gallant nodded. "Hey, how's her brother doing?" he asked as Carter turned away.
"Fucking brilliant," Carter lied as he walked off.
**
"So they just took off?" Susan set the empty cup on her napkin and looked expectantly at Abby, who was barely maintaining her composure.
"Gone. Maggie said she'd call." Abby laughed. "I told her not to bother and left. I went home, then went out for a cigarette a little while later. Carter came home and tried to get the story out of me. I wasn't in the mood to analyze it and we kind of had an argument." This was the last straw; a lone tear slipped down Abby's face. She wiped it away quickly and continued. "I told him to fuck off and I ran out. When I went back a minute later he was gone and the door was locked, which brings us to our third set of problems for the night, because I forgot my keys." Abby swallowed the last of her tea, set the mug on the table, and tented her hands in one smooth motion. "How was your night?" she asked sweetly.
"Nothing compared to what you've dealt with already." Susan sighed. "You're living proof that they always happen in threes, aren't you?"
"You have no idea," Abby answered. "So… You know a good locksmith?"
**
Carter stepped up to the front door of the apartment, trying not to look at the crushed cigarette butt on the stair that started this whole mess. He reached into the pocket of his pants to grab his keys, then realised they were sitting on the table. Right next to Abby's. "Damnit," he hissed, pounding his fist on the door.
One of the neighbors overheard and stuck his head out to see what was going on. "Yo, everything okay out here?"
The kid didn't look a day over fifteen; Carter figured he was probably a student at Northwestern or maybe the Art Institute, judging by the way he was dressed. "Locked out," Carter answered. "You guys got a phone in there?"
"We're students, not Neanderthals," the neighbor answered with a laugh. "Come on over."
"Thanks," Carter answered as he hopped down the steps. "I owe you one."
**
"What do you mean you already have someone going to that address?" Abby sputtered into the phone. "Can I get his name?" She paused while the woman in the locksmith's office gave her a standard training manual answer. "I need to know, yes. It's my apartment and I was attacked recently, so it would give me a considerable amount of peace of mind to know who's trying to get into my home." Another pause. "Yes, the name of the client." She made eye contact with Susan and sighed heavily. "Thank you," Abby finally said into the receiver. "No, it won't be a problem. We're both locked out, I guess. The first one of us that gets home can pay you." She nodded, almost as if the woman on the phone could see her face. "Thanks again, you too," she finished, and hung up the phone.
"Apparently you aren't the only one who forgot their keys when they left home in a fit," Susan observed.
Abby swept her hair off her face with both hands and sighed deeply. "God, I just want this night to be over," she whispered.
"You need anything?" Susan asked, concerned for her friend's emotional state.
"Spare keys and a ride home," Abby replied.
"Settle for the ride?" Susan asked her. "I'm fresh out of keys."
"But your toenails…"
"Had better be dry by now, or else it's my own damn fault if my socks get ruined." Her toenails were polished a dark shade of red, which was a stark contrast to the white of the paper still twined between them. "Just let me untangle all of this and we can take off," she offered.
"Thanks," Abby called out as Susan headed for the bathroom. She collected everything from the table and brought it to the sink, then pulled her coat on when Susan emerged again.
"Ready?"
"No," Abby said, "But if I don't apologize to Carter soon I'm gonna start crying all over again. I feel like an uberbitch for what I said to him."
"That bad?" Susan asked as they walked through the door to the sidewalk.
"Worse."
**
"Thanks so much," Carter said to the spiky-haired student. "It was either this or stand out there and freeze until my girlfriend got home, and I don't think she had the key on her either."
"God, you guys are two peas in a pod." The kid shook his head. "By the way, I didn't catch your name earlier. I'm Seth." He stuck out his hand for Carter to shake.
"Call me Carter, everybody does."
"That some sort of nickname?" Seth looked confused behind the rectangular black frames of his glasses.
"I guess it is. It's kind of a leftover from my med student days."
"You a doctor?" Carter nodded. "Nice," Seth commented. "Not in private practice, I suppose, judging by the wacky hours you two keep."
Carter smiled politely. "Yeah, that and Abby's a nurse."
"That the cute blonde I see you with sometimes?"
Carter nodded. "Only she's my cute blonde, got it?" he teased.
"Got one of my own," Seth retorted with a grin. "Hey, we have company," he called out.
At the sound of his voice, a golden retriever puppy came bounding out from the kitchen. "Sit," Seth said firmly. When the animal complied, Seth grinned. "This is my baby," he explained. He bent to scratch the dog's ears, then cooed, "Say hi to Carter, Dru."
"Hi there," he greeted, shaking the furry paw the pup had offered him. "How old is she?" Carter asked Seth. "She seems really well behaved."
"My older sister teaches obedience classes, so it's kind of hard for her not to be perfect." He grinned down at the dog. "Despite the fact that she's named for an insane vampire. She'll be a year in February."
"Who are you talking to?" A voice floated down the hall and into the room.
"Not the dog again," Seth answered quickly. "Seems our neighbor's locked out."
"Why didn't you say something?" The voice was closer now and a second later a purple-haired figure appeared in the doorway. "Hi, I'm Marya," she greeted. "You must be the locked out neighbor."
"She's a beaut, ain't she?" Seth teased. He turned to the woman in the doorway. "Marya, this is Dr Carter, our aforementioned neighbor."
"Good to meet you," she replied, the pinnacle of pleasantness. It almost surprised Carter how quiet and polite she was, given the way she was dressed. Marya's outfit was a stark contrast to what Seth was wearing; he had on black corduroys and a black turtleneck sweater, looking every part the modern man, while Marya had on a dress that looked like a cross between a patchwork quilt and something stolen from Stevie Nicks' closet. "You must work at Mercy, right?"
"County," Carter countered.
Marya's eyes grew wide. "I heard you guys got snowed in last week. Must have been pretty slow."
"Actually, it was business as usual upstairs, but I'm in the emergency department, so it was like a cave in there." He saw flashing yellow lights outside the window and turned his head to look.
"That your locksmith?" Seth asked.
"Looks like," Carter replied. "Thanks for letting me hang out while I waited."
"Like I said earlier, not Neanderthals," Seth joked. "We're harmless. Stop by any time."
**
Abby closed the car door behind her and walked up the sidewalk to the steps. Carter was standing there holding a flashlight while a heavyset older man picked the lock. "Where's your jacket?" she greeted him.
"Left it inside when I went to look for you," he replied. "You all right?"
"I went to Susan's for a little while. We'll talk about all of this when we get inside and you get warmed up."
"All set," the locksmith pronounced, swinging the door open to reveal a warm apartment, one with two sets of keys on the table by the door.
"Go jump in the shower," Abby suggested to Carter quietly. "I'll take care of this."
Carter, cold as he was, didn't complain, question, or even think of protesting. All he wanted was hot water running over his back, warming him up the fastest way he knew how. He took off toward the bathroom, practically at a run.
Abby turned to the locksmith. "We've had kind of a rough night," she offered by way of explanation. She picked up her purse, then lifted her wallet out and sorted through it. "Can you take a check?" she asked.
"Cash or credit," the locksmith replied.
"You're the boss," Abby replied, handing him her MasterCard. She waited patiently while he filled out the necessary paperwork, then signed the sheet and showed him out.
Carter was going to be at least twenty more minutes, she reflected. She sat down to check her e-mail and see if there was anything from her brother or mom, and got lost in a CD as she read the various messages. There were a few from Jody, forwards mainly, and a couple from one of the newer ER nurses, all with gossip and questions about scheduling. How she'd gotten Abby's address was beyond her, but this was definitely going to be an issue at the next nurses' meeting.
Finally she made it through all the crap in her inbox, without so much as an outdated message from her family, and rested her head on her arms, feeling defeated. She sighed heavily and waited for Carter to finish his shower.
**
Carter was standing completely still letting the water beat his skin like a scourge, enjoying the sensation of body heat again. He hadn't realised how cold he was until he got inside, and then all he could think about was getting warm again. Getting warm and settling things with Abby.
It was strange, what happened tonight, he reflected. They rarely argued and when they did it was resolved quickly. So what did tonight mean for them? Was this even a fight, or just emotions boiling over and needing to be cleaned up?
Carter rinsed his hair again and turned off the water. He toweled off quickly, not wanting to lose any heat when the drops of water on his skin eventually grew cold. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed to the bedroom, where he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and one of many t-shirts he'd collected over the years. This one had a picture of three frogs on it, with the phrase, "Blood-do-nor," in bubbles over the frogs' heads. The Red Cross always came up with such cheesy slogans, he thought, shaking his head at the goofy artwork. He padded out to the living room in bare feet and saw Abby resting at the computer. He crept up to her slowly and started to massage her shoulders very gently.
Abby raised her head slightly and caught one of Carter's hands with hers. "You're warm now," she observed in a whisper.
"So are you," he whispered back. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Are you okay?" he asked, struggling to ask because he wasn't sure he'd like the answer.
"Not okay at all," Abby said. She sat up straight and turned to look at him. "I feel like shit for what I said to you before, Carter. I'm upset over what happened today, but that didn't give me a reason to take it out on you." She took a shaky breath. "I can't take back what I said, because this isn't something I think you can fix, but I appreciate you being here with me."
"Are you really mad at me?" Carter asked.
Abby shook her head and laughed. "God, you're unbelievable," she said in a low voice. Carter's face held a shocked expression when he heard what she said. She picked up his hands and squeezed his fingers tightly.
Carter debated for half a second whether he should step back and sit down next to her, then decided to remain standing right where he was. "What are you talking about?" he asked.
"I'm talking about the way I ran out of here earlier. If someone had done that to me, I would have taken off. But again, here you are. You're a glutton for punishment, you know."
"Only when it's worth it," Carter replied. He stood there for a second; when Abby didn't say anything he kept talking. "You didn't answer my question before. Are you mad at me?"
"Carter, I was really upset earlier. I still am. And it frustrated me to no end that you were trying to take that all away without letting me deal with it." She stood and looked up at him. "But I'm not mad at you. I don' t have any reason to be."
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked.
"Not for a while," Abby said. "You're going to have to let me sort through it on my own, and I know that's a lot to ask."
"It is a lot to ask," Carter countered, his voice rising slightly. "It kills me to know I can't take it all away and make it better for you. That's the one thing I want more than anything for you, especially now."
"You're going to have to settle," Abby replied. "I know that's harsh but I can't lie to you about it. That wouldn't be fair."
"What are you planning to do about this?" Carter asked after a minute, his voice very serious.
"Why do you want to know?" Abby asked defensively.
"I want to know how you're planning on dealing with it. I need to know where you're going to let me be here for you." Carter dropped her hands and reached up to cup the sides of her face. "You need to do something with it, you can't just ignore it and make it go away."
"Eventually I'll cool off about it and try to contact Eric," Abby whispered. "But I can't right now. I'm just too mad at him for what he said to me."
"What did he say?" Carter asked, dropping his hands to her waist. "You never did tell me."
Abby sighed heavily, her voice shaky. "He said he didn't want me in his life right now. No one's ever hurt me like that before, Carter, and the sting hasn't gone away." There were tears in her eyes. "I don't know if it will, no matter how much better things might get."
"There has to be some sort of support group or something," Carter whispered.
"You think I need therapy?" Abby looked slightly upset at the notion that he thought she had a problem.
"I think you need someone to help you work on this, and if it can't be me, it has to be someone." Carter pulled her closer to him. "You're killing me here, Abby. I look at you and I see you hurting and I want to die."
"I don't think a support group is going to help, Carter," Abby answered.
"How do you know if you're not willing to try it?"
His voice was still gentle; he was trying to encourage her rather than judge,
but it wasn't working the right way.
"Is that what it'll take to make you happy?" Abby asked, unable to keep the accusatory tone from her voice.
"Seeing you happy is what will make me happy," Carter said. "I thought you would have figured that out by now, but your mind's probably clouded." He pulled her body against his and gave her a hug. "God, Abby, you have no idea how much I want this all to go away."
"Not a clue," Abby said, laughing bitterly. She leaned against his chest and breathed in his scent, felt the heat coming off him in waves now. Who needed stuffed animals when she could have him?
The CD drifted from one song into another and Carter began to sway Abby back and forth gently.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Dance with me," Carter whispered. He tightened his grip on her waist and she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. For the next four minutes they barely moved, just standing there together listening to the music. As the song began to fade into the end, Carter began to sway further to either side, eventually tipping Abby to his left and kissing her gently. "I love you," he whispered.
There were tears in Abby's eyes when he said this. "I don't deserve you," she said. "Not after the way I was earlier."
"You were upset, Abby. It's all right." He stood up straight and leaned back to look at her face.
"I love you," she said. "You know I do, more than anything." A tiny smile lit up her face for a moment. "But I still don't deserve you."
Carter let go of her and turned to the desk to switch the computer off. When it flashed the okay message, he hit the switch on the tower with his foot and pressed the monitor's power button, then faced Abby again. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and pulling her toward the bedroom. "We're both tired. If you want, you can try to convince me of that again in the morning."
**
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
-It seems my muse is nocturnal. So I either need to learn to function on less sleep or find a different work schedule. Or I can trade someone muses.
-This was frickin' hard to finish. I have a stuffed puppy on my computer desk that a "friend" gave me (if that's what you can call the first girl you kissed, a girl who happens to be dating one of your guy friends). He's really fuzzy. In some places, the story was fuzzier than the puppy and he got very angry with me. (I'm writing these notes at quarter to four in the morning. If I babble about talking puppies, it's best just to let me go on.)
-I have answers to a few questions left for me in feedback for "Until A Brighter Day," all of which was totally appreciated and completely, utterly dug. g
1. The Law of Three is a basic Wiccan principle. It states that whatever you do will come back to you three times later. It's very similar to the concept of karma, which I also live by.
2. Someone asked if John and Abby were practicing safe sex, to which I actually said to my computer, "Duh!" Then it occurred to me that the Chaos Theory piece I'm working on, the piece that explains the answer to that question, is still in my maroon notebook, half-written, needing to be typed. So I figured I might answer this one with a simple "Yes."
3. Of course you'll all be seeing more work from me! How can I not write? Especially when the characters are so well behaved ::crosses fingers behind back:: and never, ever yell at each other. g
-At the end of UABD, I rambled on about the music I listened to while writing. I'm doing the same damn thing here. The album of choice was Coldplay's "A Rush Of Blood To The Head," which I just got this weekend and am currently in love with. Brian, who sits next to me at work and normally prefers reggae and gangsta rap, said it was very soothing. Proof that everyone likes Coldplay. You should all run out and buy the album, or at least Bogart it from someone smart enough to have done so. It's just that good. Incidentally, the song they're dancing to is "Warning Sign," which is on said album. The other songs that really apply to this piece are "Clocks" and "The Scientist," but you should really hear the whole album. I mean it. (Anyone who knows me, and several callers, have heard me babble on about this CD, but it's literally that beautiful.)
-Speaking of music, the title was bogarted from Pink Floyd. Who I love -almost- as much as I love Coldplay right now.