Once upon a time a ago Susan told me I was a globe-trotter. I never realized that she was correct. I had never been so many places and taken so many planes in a year in my life.

Nebraska.

Boston.

Belize.

Rio, almost.

Now I am returning from Kisangani. A small village on the coast of French New Guinnea in the Congo in the heart of Africa. This place where I found a woman dead with AIDS in triage, where I gave over two-hundred children flu injections, where I treated a little boy with whooping cough with only mild antibiotics, the place where I left Luka behind, the place where I ran to from Abby. That's what I did. Ran. Ran like a little girl to her mother.

At this moment, kissing the nape of her neck and watching her sleep. I rub my temples hard with my metacarples and begin to weep. It seems that I have been doing that a lot lately. I guess my grief and fear have intertwined and have somehow traveled from my head to my tearducts. Jet-lagged, sweaty, and fatigued I manage to pull myself up from the bed, grab a pair of scrubs from the nearby slingback chair, and pad my way into the bathroom to take a much needed shower.

As the water beats on my chest, I hear the door open slightly. I know it's her. It really upsets me that I woke her. She looked so peaceful lying there, sleeping, and dreaming hopefully about me.

" John?" I hear her say

" Yeah." I reply

" When did you get in?" she asks

" Oh, about fifteen minutes ago. Sorry I woke you."

" It's alright. I'm glad your back,"

I hope she was sincere. The more I have been apart from her, especially in Africa, the more I realize that I can't live without her. I saw Luka and Jillian dancing to Willy Nelson in the tent and I received and image from my brain of Abby and I dancing there with our hands and bodies touching so close that even a rush of air couldn't get through us. I snap back into reality as she finishes her sentence.

" you coming to bed soon?" she mused

Of course I am. I want to hold you, touch you, and make love to you all night long. I know that we've been distant for a while, but after leaving her for fourteen days it makes me think why in the hell did I go anywhere without her?

" Soon." I say trying to choose my words carefully.

" Good. I'll make a pot of coffee. We need to talk."

" That we do."

I finish up my shower,change into my hopefully clean scrubs, and look at my reflection in the mirror. God, I need to shave. I smell the rich scent of decaf Columbian roast from the kitchen. I cross my arms and lean against the doorframe looking at her clad in my bathrobe pouring our cups of coffee. I walk over to her wrapping my arms around her tiny torso and kissing her neck. She giggles almost uncontrolably trying to escape my embrace. I haven't heard that light, care-free laugh or seen a sincere smile giving way to her cute dimples in over a month. It's really nice.We dare not speak to break the comfortable silence between us. This comfortable silence quickly fades into a awkward pregnant pause. Ironically, we have had a lot of awkward moments lately. The tension that is there is unmistakable.

" What's wrong with us, John?" she adds my first name for a personal touch.

" We're changing. No matter how much you believe that people don't change. They do. We are." I opined

" I guess I realize now that that's true."

" Took you long enough."

So much for using my words carefully. I look down at my socked feet to keep from meeting her glare.

" Carter,"

Ouch.

" I don't need your sarcastic subtleties."

" Sorry." I apologized. I meant it too.

" Look, I love you. I love you like I have never loved anyone before. I do want this to stick, but we can't just dessert each other in our darkest hour. I didn't see you for a week, John!"

" Like how you desserted me when Gamma died?"

I don't know what it is. Tonight, I seem a little more cruel than usual. I guess it's payback.

" I went to pick up my bi-polar brother; you know that, John!" she scoffed

I did know. Although, at this moment, I feel that my grandmother is a little more imporatant. I am being somewhat selfish, but I don't care. She was my Gamma.

" I'm not playing high school debate with you, Abby. I'm going to go to bed. You can come or go home. Doesn't matter to me either way!"

She sniffed and the tears came. She broke. I walked over to her and let her bawl into my chest. Her hot tears drifted down me wetting the scrup top I had recently donned. She was letting me see her comepletely vulnerable despite her being angry at me. She does that a lot.

" I'm sorry. I realize I should have been there for you! Just between Maggie, Eric, and work I have somewhat let our relationship take the backseat. I'm not even trying it's just naturally happening that way. It seems like we know too much about each other and it's not new and fresh anymore. We're changing and it scares me!"

" I know, I know. Shhh."

She looked up and kissed me. Her lips tasted salty from the tears. She pursued letting her hand drop below my abdomen. I stopp her. I know what she wants, but not tonight. Not tonight.

" Let's go to bed." she suggested and I follow.

She slid into our bed and I slide next to her and guided her to my form hovering my arms over her body. This is the first night in three weeks we had slept together in the same bed. This was the first night in two weeks I had slept normally. No fear of guns, no humid stickiness in the air, no mosquito nets just European cotton sheets, a down comforter, and Abby breathing deeply and softly against me.Drifting back into another comfortable silence, I think back to the other days/nights I had arrived home from a trip. Homecomings have always been a problem for us.

Anita Coffee.

The perfect smoke.

Jose Quervo.

Ah, the memories we have made. These memories only make me want to create more memories like the one we are creating this very moment. Maybe we'll get lucky.

*~*~*~*~*~*

After a relentless cup of coffee and a cigarette, I walk back into the hospital from the ambulence bay. Africa did seem to bring my long time smoking habit back from the dead. Abby was either going to kill me or reach out and take a puff. Hey, she's done it before!

Taking the last, long drag, I throw it on the ground putting it out. During this act, Susan manages to come outside and watch. Now, I'm sure that Susan is the one who will kill me instead of Abby. Hey, she's tried it before!

" Smoking? Dr. Johnathon Truman Carter,everyone's favorite hero of the medical world, is smoking?" she exclaimed with uber sarcasm. I could almost see it dripping form her teeth like drool on a dog.

" Funny. Old habit. I guess the old saying that old habits die hard is a myth with me." I say trying to lighten the mood.

" If you quit, just make sure you do it for yourself rather than her."

She's been talking to Abby. Dammit!

" You're just full of mocking sarcasm this morning aren't you Susan?" I question

" Maybe it's Frank's stale doughnut I stole from the fridge in the lounge. He might have put something into it. You never know about cops."

" Retired cops and I see you've been talking to Abby."

I stand there waiting for her responce. I don't know if it's good or bad or in between. It scares me that Susan, our friend, had been talking to her more than I have. The fumes of nicotin from a homeless guy around the corner have drifted and landed right on my nose triggering whatever the hell got me smoking in the first place. I realize, I need a cigarette.

" She called me this morning after you left. She told me about last night and how you pushed all the right buttons. I'm probably breaking some unwritten Girls'Club rule, but she's in love with you, John."

Another personal touch. This astounds me. I thought I was being insensitive last night. Things and people fool you I guess.

" I know. I'm in love with her too."

" You two have to start working on those homecoming speeches or else your never going to able to be like George Cleaver."

" George Cleaver? I was never the 'Honey, I'm home' type of guy."

" So, I guess Wallas and Theodore are out in the baby name department, but you know what is a nice name? Susan."

" You are getting way too far ahead," I exclaim

Baby names! She is off her rocker. We barely think about marriage let alone children. I guess I have thought about kids, but I am certainly putting the name Johnathon Truman to death with a guillotine and I hope it suffers. I hope Abby knows that. Maybe Erica though. You know, after her brother. Sorry Susan.

" We have work to do and patients to see. Enough about smoking and baby names,but Leave It To Beaver, Susan? You must be running out of analogies."

" You caught me. It sounded so much funnier in my head."

" Oh, and next time you and Abby have one of your girltalk sessions. Make sure you come and tell me all these little secrets you two keep."

She smirks at me and lifts her two fingers. I'm a little confused at first, but now she's interpreting it for me.

" Girl Scouts honor!" she replies cooly

We walk back into the hospital talking and bantering back and forth. We haven't done this in a while. She's my source now. You know, always a bridesmaid never a bride. Well, almost. I think Chuck is a very lucky guy even though they did anull their short marriage, but I digress. Abby is my luck even though it is like flipping a coin.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

So? I hope that you like my first chapter of this story. I put a lot of thought into it. I hope you like this style of writing. I haven't done anything like this before. Your reviews are very special to me. ::::*Hint Hint*:::: Let me know how you think or I won't continue. Thanks in advance. LOL- not-so-dumb-blonde