Something Inside That Was Always Denied

Part I: Norwegian Wood

Notes: Well, my first true Trauma Center fan fiction. I've been playing Second Opinion these last few days and find myself with a brand new OTP in Derek and Angie. This story is a half-sad story and filled to the brim with inspiration from The Beatles. This is the first installment in a three part inspiration series. I promise you this will be finished long before even my beloved story Better Judgment. So please enjoy!

It was ten at night when Derek found himself in Angie's studio flat. It was of somewhat hippie décor. Furniture was sparse. A small twin size bed, a rug, beads serving as the bathroom door, a short Japanese style table, and a small fridge to store the little food she ate. This was hardly what Derek had expected from the home of his rigid nurse. He sat on the rug before nervously lifting the glass of wine she had poured him. For all his nervous feelings he could never ignore her unusual serene beauty. She wore a simple white dress and her lovely blond locks cascaded over her exposed shoulders. She looked something of an ancient earth or fertility goddess.

"Derek..." her voice was sweet and simple, lacking its usual chastising sharpness. "do you... like my place?" He nodded readily to her question, still a bit nervous. He wasn't sure if she had the same ideas in mind but to Derek when a beautiful woman, particularly one you love, takes you back to her apartment at night it means sex. As much as he liked to pretend otherwise Derek had natural male inclinations. Dirty thoughts of his lovely nurse had spanned his mind before, even when he had just seen her. His eyes had immediately taken notice of her full bosom, gorgeous green eyes, supple bum, and luxurious blond hair. For a man who had an unsatisfied sexual appetite these things would be hard to ignore. He almost felt perverse as he assumed she hardly noticed his objectifying of her at all. Perhaps she had assumed it on some level but was never fully conscious of it. Did this make him normal or depraved? He didn't know and almost didn't want to know.

"Sorry if this sounds stupid, Ang, but why live in such a small place?" She smiled at his awkward and innocent inquiry. She gently patted her hand on the bed, offering to have him sit with her before she answered. He sat beside her, not allowing himself to touch her before she touched him.

"I don't need any more than this. I'm practical, you know. A single girl on her own only needs a single room and a bathroom." More odd conversation followed until the flow of red wine loosened them both up. Two in the morning found them laying entwined on her bed fully dressed and Angie half-asleep. Her next words would send Derek into a mode of confusion mixed with equal parts excitement and fear. "I think it's time for bed..."

Derek looked at her. He wondered what that meant. Making love sleep or true sleep? He checked tentatively by kissing her, tongue roughly pressing into her mouth. She didn't resist but barely responded either. She wanted true sleep and, from her sitting up, she signaled that she wanted him out of her bed. Derek rolled slovenly off her duvet and crawled off to sleep in the bath. He was too drunk to drive home and too much the gentleman to force the issue of where he would sleep. She brought him some pillows and a simple throw blanket but the coldness of the porcelain was a constant reminder of unconsummated love. Right before she was able to drift off to sleep, which she needed as she had work in the morning, he came out.

"I love you." Her eye slowly opened and peaked at him. "Do you love me, Angie?" Lazily she sat up and stared him tired yet surprised.

"Yes, Derek... I... I'm in love but I'm lazy." She shook her head before attempting to correct herself. "I mean to say... there is no one who compares with you but... it's so hard loving you." He sat upon her bed and gently kissed her. He understood what she meant even if no one else in the world would. They held hands a moment before he returned to the bath, their grip upon one another lingering as long as it could. She lay her head on the pillow again, making it moist with her tears.

The next morning he awoke alone. She had locked the door behind her but he could still leave. He sat in front of her empty wood stove, shivering at the winter cold that seeped through the cracks. He took some wood from the stack and began a fire. His mind was stuck on Angie but she was else where. He sighed and glanced at the stack.

"Isn't it good, Norwegian wood?"

Fin

End Notes: Is this story sad or romantic? I really can't say myself. I think it's up to interpretation. Part of me thinks that the issues they face are very surmountable. I think ultimately that while the tone sounds sad it is in fact a story of only the beginning. I think later their love would truly blossom and happiness would be had between them. Maybe I'm just optimistic. Who knows? Chapter two will be under the influence of God Only Knows by The Beach Boys. That song is easily the most beautiful song I have ever heard, bar none. I have yet to choose chapter three's influence. I think I might do Amazing Grace for the final installment or maybe Gloria in Excelsis Deo. Something that is full, beautiful, and classic.