"God, what a day," Ellie moaned as she walked into the entryway of her apartment, pausing to kick off her shoes, rid herself of her purse and car keys on the small rectangular oak table, and knead the knotted muscles in her neck and shoulders. If she never stitched closed another gaping knife wound, lanced another boil, or casted another broken bone, it would be far too soon.
It was 2:00 a.m. and all of the sane people in her apartment complex had been in bed for hours, but not one Dr. Eleanor Bartowski. No, she was coming down from sixteen hours spent in the ER, having, with four other doctors, taken on another partial shift to cover for their colleague, Dr. Reynolds, whose wife was currently in the throes of labor with their first child.
Ellie was glad to volunteer, especially after witnessing the mixture of panic, fright, and excitement that crossed Dr. Reynolds' freckled face seemingly simultaneously after receiving a call from his wife stating that she was currently en route to the maternity ward. "We're having a baby! We're having a baby!" he said in a slightly off-key, high-pitched voice as he scrubbed his shaking fingers through his flaming red mop top, while pacing back and forth in front of the nurse's station like a caged animal. Ellie gently wrapped her arms around the agitated man's shoulders. "Go and be with your wife, Nate, we've got you covered." "Thanks, Ellie, you're the best, I owe you one," Nate smiled gratefully, giving her a quick hug and peck on the cheek before sprinting into the nearest open elevator that was heading toward the maternity floor.
"Did all of that really only happen four hours ago?" Ellie questioned herself wearily, replaying the scene in her mind. "It feels like four days ago. Oh well, it's good to stay busy." Lately, Ellie was attacking her work with renewed vigor. It distracted her and helped to mute the pain and anger, well, mostly anger, that she felt whenever she thought of Devon.
About four months ago, Ellie had the heart wrenching misfortune of discovering Devon's affair with one of the ER nurses. While he pled with Ellie for forgiveness, claiming that it was all an impulsive, heat of the moment mistake that would never happen again, she embraced the reality she had been dancing around for some time, that she and Devon didn't belong together.
After kicking Devon to the curb, she allowed herself a small window of self pity, which involved sobbing herself silly while watching The Notebook and downing a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Therapy ice cream, during a particularly bad night. But wallowing was just not the Bartowski way, at least not for Ellie, so work became her almost constant companion, especially since Chuck and Sarah started spending more time together at Sarah's place. She loved Sarah and was so glad that Chuck finally found someone to place his trust in again, especially after his nightmare with Jill.
At least Devon and nurse floozy had the good grace, or was it shame, to request transfers to another hospital within the Methodist Hospital network. However, thinking about the situation still managed to chap Ellie's hide.
Instead of going through her usual bedtime rituals, climbing into bed, and passing out, Ellie found herself restlessly wandering from room to room within the apartment, picking up a knickknack here, putting it down over there, straightening the towels hanging in the bathroom, idly running her fingers over the spines of the books on the shelves in her bedroom, and generally not knowing how to relieve her bottled up tension.
Finally, she settled on a task. Laundry. As she slid open the bedroom closet door to grab the hamper, a glint of silver caught her eye. She smiled as a small, stunted laugh escaped from her throat. "I forgot about you," she said as she pulled the swimsuit off the hanger, fingering the metallic lame fabric as it pooled in her hands. It was a strapless one piece that tied in the back, with a plunging neckline, and cutouts on both sides that each came together with bows. She vividly remembered scoring the flashy little number in a cute little boutique in Santa Monica. "Devon won't be able to keep his hands off of you in that," her friend, Veronica said as Ellie flounced out of the dressing room, playfully twirling around. The proverbial shit hit the fan shortly thereafter, and Ellie had no reason or inclination to wear the shiny suit.
"You know what, I don't need to be sexy for anyone but myself," Ellie thought as she tossed the suit on the bed with a new found focus. She quickly slipped out of her scrubs, threw them in the hamper, and headed to the bathroom, where she showered, scrubbing the remnants of the hospital from her skin and rinsing them from her hair.
After drying off, she tossed the damp towel in the hamper and padded naked to her bed, where she eased into the skimpy suit. She slid on some jewel encrusted flip flops and grabbed a clean towel from the linen closet in the hallway. A late night swim was just what she needed. Ellie determinedly grabbed the keys from the entryway table and walked out the front door, locking it behind her.
It was a cool night, and she enjoyed the gentle breeze that stirred her shoulder length dark chocolate hair as she walked the short distance to the pool. As she drew nearer, she could smell the night blooming jasmine lightly scenting the air and heard the soft whisper of palm fronds.
Walking through the stuccoed archway, Ellie circled halfway around the pool to a set of chaises adorning the pool deck. She wrapped her keys up in her towel, removed her flip flops and placed everything in a small tidy pile on one of the loungers. Walking toward the edge of the pool, she glanced in the direction of the spa, noticing the deliciously hot looking tendrils of steam curling off its surface. Since the spa's waters directly fed the pool, she knew the pool would be as blissfully warm as a bathtub.
Sitting down at the edge, she slowly lowered herself into the shallow end, allowing her body time to acclimate to the change in temperature. As soon as she felt warm and cozy all over, she swam to the middle of the pool, flipped over on her back, raised her arms over her head, and allowed herself to float peacefully, cradled in the warm water.
The sky was clear, the usual eerie orange afterglow replaced by a ripe, golden harvest moon that hung low in the sky, looking close enough to touch. The only other light was provided by the dimmed spotlights that softly lit the trunks and fronds of the fan palms, and a few underground pool lights. Ellie gazed up at the woven canopy above her and basked in the moon's glow, feeling the day's tension begin to slowly slip away.
After floating for several minutes, she turned over and gracefully dove under the water and swam to the deep end. She preferred swimming completely under the surface. The pool was small enough and she had the stamina to easily swim from one end to the other before coming up for a breath.
She completed several more laps and was in the middle of the pool, heading for the deep end again, when a small tsunami threw her off course. She surfaced, and treading water, looked around to determine what, as Chuck would have phrased it, caused the disturbance in the Force. What she saw a few feet in front of her stole her breath away.
Her eyes locked on an amazingly muscular and well-defined chest that glowed bronze in the moonlight. She was momentarily mesmerized as she watched the golden beads of water cascade down it and disappear into the pool. She continued her journey, lingering on broad shoulders and a strong neck. Her lips parted when she got to a jaw that was surely sculpted by Michelangelo himself, and her respiration and heart rate increased when she moved up to the set of full lips and over a very masculine nose. A small sigh of pleasure escaped her throat when she finally found herself staring into John Casey's gorgeous blue eyes.