Shivering, he made his way back to the hotel, choosing to walk instead of taking transport as a means of punishing himself for what he had done on what would be Christmas morning back home. He found his thoughts turning to the previous night as he did so...to how they had found themselves in bed together making love until the early hours when both had fallen asleep holding on to each other. He remembered that they had been drinking, but that neither had had enough for their judgement to be impaired, it had just felt natural...right somehow for things to progress as they had done. Elliot had gone back to the hotel for an early night, expecting Michael to soon follow behind him, while Frieda's mother had gone to bed, tired after entertaining the two guests. He and Frieda meanwhile stayed in the living room talking comfortably and catching up on what had been going on in their lives whilst they had been apart until Frieda had abruptly gone upstairs. When the clock struck midnight and she didn't come back down worry had hit him and he decided to follow her earlier path to see if she was okay. It was then that he heard sobbing coming from behind a half open bedroom door, a bedroom that upon inspection he found was hers; for through a gap where the door had been left ajar, he saw her perched on the edge of her bed with her knees drawn up to her chest and more pain etched onto her face than he ever cared to see on anybody's.
He had stood there for a couple of minutes not knowing what to do. He'd never been good with crying women and he certainly wasn't sure that a woman as strong willed and independent as Frieda would ever want to know or acknowledge that he had seen her in such a fragile state. When the sobs continued to come thick and fast however and showed no signs of subsiding he knocked gently on the door, entering before she had any chance to tell him to leave and closing it behind him so as not to disturb her mother. He immediately walked over to her and sat down at her side, pulling her close to him as hot tears fell; her make up running as she cried and making even more apparent the natural beauty beneath it.
They had sat there for at least half an hour, Frieda crying and Michael not knowing why but holding her regardless, unable to bear seeing such a stunning creature in so much pain. His lips had subconsciously found the soft skin of her forehead as her body convulsed in his arms but instead of pulling away when they did so she had just held more tightly on to him, as if he was her only anchor in a stormy ocean. When the sobs finally subsided she had looked up at him with tear stained and rosy cheeks, her face full of fear that she had crossed some invisible line and that he had seen her in a way that she never allowed people to see, preventing him from ever being able to look at her the same way again. She had quickly walked away from him at that moment and over to her nightstand, roughly rubbing off the smudged make up as if to punish herself for being so weak; trying her hardest to distance herself from the man who had already that day seen her at her lowest ebb and heard one of her deepest secrets. She had even picked up her make up again, ready to put back on the mask that only once before he had seen her without, but the minute she had he had walked to her side, taking the cosmetic bag off her and placing it back on her nightstand, his fingertips then entwining in her own.
"You don't need it." He had told her softly, tracing his thumb over a still glistening tear track and leading her gently back to the bed. "You know you can talk to me." He assured her as they sat down in silence, the only sound the rhythmic ticking of a clock emanating from the hallway.
"I'm big girl you know. I not need to talk about everything. I take care of myself." She had snapped, unable to bring her still tearful eyes to meet his.
"I don't doubt that, but you don't have to. I found you up here in tears Petrenko, so spill. You've already told me about Lev, why not tell me what else has got your goat while we're on a roll? I'm not gonna judge you." He then told her softly, unable to suppress a smile at Frieda's puzzled expression regarding his choice of phrase.
"And you care why?" Frieda had asked him sharply, snatching her hand away from his. "You nice to me today because you need my help. You listen to me talk about Lev because it helped you get your own way. Do not pretend you care."
Michael sighed, feeling guilty that his past lack of judgement in so many situations and considerable character flaws - which of course Frieda and most of the hospital had been privy to - were preventing the young woman at his side from being able to acknowledge any sincerity in his words. Of course he cared, he wouldn't have been sat there trying to get her to talk to him if he didn't…he wouldn't be trying to get her to see that under her usual mask of heavy makeup he had for a long time now been aware of the beautiful woman that she was. He had been a womaniser, he knew it and she knew it, and he didn't blame her for not truly trusting in him. If the situation was reversed he wouldn't trust him either. The truth was, her hurting was incredibly painful for him and he would do anything to make it better for her. There was something about her that he was drawn to and he was drawn to her more than he had ever been drawn to anyone. For her he had begun to realise that he would do anything, even those things that he had never been brave enough to do for any woman before her.
"Of course I care." He had replied tiredly, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "You're part of the original Team Spence." He had added, his thoughts drifting back to the days when he, Frieda and Penny had worked together before she had been cruelly taken from them whilst saving a patient's life.
Frieda had rolled her eyes, still staring sullenly at the wall as she appeared completely nonplussed by his words.
"Fine." He had told her with a sigh, raising his hands in defeat. "I did need your help and that was part of the reason I wanted you to talk to me, because I needed you in theatre." He admitted.
Frieda had opened her mouth to undoubtedly respond with a witty retort.
"But I also wanted you to talk to me because…because you disappeared. You disappeared from Holby…from my…from all of our lives without any word. Do you have any idea how worried I…we've all been about you? You're part of our family and you just up and left. When I saw you here and saw that something was hurting you…if talking about it was going to get you into that theatre then I was happy about it because you Miss Petrenko are an excellent Doctor…but if it was going to help you…and help bring you home to…us…then that I was even happier about."
"Whatever." She had replied trying to feign nonchalance, but he could hear the emotion lacing her voice.
Again they had sat there in silence, the only sounds permeating the heavy atmosphere the ticking of the clock in the hallway and the steady beating of their hearts. Feeling as if trying to get to the bottom of her upset was a lost cause Michael sighed and again rubbed his tired eyes.
"Okay, I can take a hint. You don't wanna talk and you want to deal with this alone. It's fine. I'll go. Thank your mother for dinner." He had told her quietly, it paining him to leave her sitting there hurting but knowing that if she didn't want to talk to him then he couldn't force her.
He had gotten up and walked to her bedroom door, opening it and then pausing.
"Just one thing though. Do you really think that it would have been so easy for me to come to Ukraine if it wasn't for the fact that you were here? Merry Christmas Frieda."
He quietly left the room then, making his way through the house and out of the front door into the brisk evening air. He heard her voice call out behind him…
"Wait."
He had turned around to see Frieda stood on the front doorstep, her arms wrapped around herself to protect her body from the cold.
"I loved her. Valentine…I…I loved her and this is first Christmas without her…without my father. Without two of people I love most." She had shouted tearfully behind him. She sunk down onto the cold pavement; her head in her hands.
"You're into chicks?" He had asked her quietly, walking back over to her and once again settling himself at her side.
"That what you get from my heartfelt declaration?" Frieda had teased with her eyebrows raised.
He felt his cheeks begin to burn with a blush and she had smiled in response. She had such a stunning smile he had thought.
"I believe love is fluid. You fall in love with who you fall in love with…man or woman." Frieda had explained and whereas seconds before he had felt that unexpected hope that had so recently settled itself in his heart die away he once again felt it flicker to life.
"Penny…she was first woman I ever really care about. She infuriate me sure but she was just…she made it her personal mission to see that I not alone. That I happy. That I had friend. She beautiful hearted person."
"She was." He had agreed.
"I never told her how I felt. I not really realise it…want to admit it…" She had then corrected, "Until she took time off and I realise…how much I miss her. How much I need her in my life. I pretend I don't for long, long time, but I did. I always did. I try to phone her when she away…to call at her flat so that I could talk to her but she not there and…then when she came back and I was going to tell her the train crash and she…"
Michael had looked at the floor.
"We didn't even realise. She die and we not know. We came back without her while she lay dying somewhere and I never forgiven myself."
"Nor have I." He had admitted truthfully, the guilt of leaving Penny behind and alone during her last moments still eating him alive every day.
"I imagine she love Christmas. I imagine she one of those irritating people so full of Christmas spirit. I come here when Lev get sick and I think how I would have like to share it with her. How worried I am for him…my friends…where I from…the beauty of my Country. Instead she gone…this beautiful, innocent, sweet person gone just like that, and she never know how I feel."
He had wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closely to him, his lips again finding their way to the top of her head and kissing her hair gently.
"She might have known. She cared about you an awful lot Petrenko. Anyone could see that. She went out of her way to get to know you. She lit up when you were around her."
"She die alone. All alone. She not deserve that. She should be here." Frieda had told him tearfully and his heart ached for her. "She should be brightening up the ward, humming Christmas carols and trying to get Hanssen to stop being Grinch. She should be with me…not…"
"I know." He whispered into her hair.
"With Penny gone this year and my father…sometimes…I feel like I have no-one." She had admitted, burying her head against his chest in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability.
"That I can relate to." He had replied with a sigh and she looked up at him with questioning eyes.
"I've made mistakes too Petrenko. Too many to count. I had a wife, I had my children and I screwed it up with my roving eye…"
"And lack of ability to keep it in your pants?" Frieda had offered and he couldn't help but smile at her observation.
"Now Ric has my wife and children and me…I have a hotel room that I'm sharing with Elliot, a pair of too short hand me down pyjamas and numerous pairs of swimming trunks with no hot weather to wear them in."
"That so awful." Frieda had replied with a ghost of a smile forming on her lips.
"I know, right…" He told her, a smile forming on his lips in response "but that's my fault Petrenko and mine alone. Family is the most important thing that a person can have and I let it go. Penny dying… that wasn't your fault and you weren't to know that you didn't have much time left with her. No one can ever know what time they've got left with the people that they love."
"Christmas sucks." Frieda had commented, pulling her knees to her chest and sighing.
"Oh I don't know. It's not so bad." He had replied; his gaze falling upon the woman sat shivering beside him, her body silhouetted under the glow of the moonlight which gave her an almost ethereal glow.
She had looked up at him then, her eyes sparkling and her expression somewhat shy.
"Thank you." She had whispered, her fingertips this time finding his.
"Anytime." He had replied, giving her hand a squeeze. "I should probably…." He then started, getting up from the spot on which he was sitting and motioning out into the night.
Frieda had nodded, removing her hand from his and wrapping her arms around herself.
"You're not alone." He had then told her sincerely, gingerly reaching out and pushing a stray strand of hair away from her piercing green eyes as his lips met hers; the first of many kisses they had shared that night as a deeply buried longing overcame them both. That longing had led to his waking in bed next to her moments before, memories of the prior evening still fresh as his eyes traced over the contours of her flawless body, mesmerised by the beauty that she so naturally possessed. Unfortunately it was a bed that he had ultimately left behind without a word to the woman still occupying it, something that was already filling his heart with regret.
"You're not alone."