In the Name of Love

By Didi

Disclaimer:  Though the show has been cancelled, (damn those executives) I still cannot claim them as mine.  And anyone that even thinks so would be laughed out of the courts.  Don't sue; I'm not making any money out of this.  Oh and do I have to disclose on brand labels?  Cause I mention one and now I'm not sure if they're copyright protected or trademark protected or what-not?

Timeline:  Let's just assume this is after the last aired episode.  But assume that Nick Kokoris and Rae Brennan are not together.  I could not stand the two on the show so I refuse to write anything where they are together.  Don't worry; I won't ignore their history already established as the back-story from the show. 

Rating:  It's going to be R now.  

Author's Note:  

Summary:  What would you do in the name of love?   Things that you may come to regret.

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Chapter Twelve

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            "Any reactions?"

            "Besides the radical mood swings, the midnight sweat-fest and the teeth damaging amount of need for chocolate?  No, no reactions at all."

            "Well good, I'm glad.  I thought you were going to go off on a patient again like you did last time."

            "I didn't go off on her."

            "You called social services."

            "With good reasons."

            "Perhaps."

            "Can we just agree to disagree on that matter?"

            "All right," she answered softly.  Her reservations on this matter raised its ugly head again.  "Since this is my last chance to do this, I'll do it one last time and never mention it again.  I won't say that this is your last chance to change your mind..."

            "It's not my last chance," Jules replied cheerfully, feeling surprising exuberate for someone who was scheduled to get pregnant by tomorrow afternoon.  Perhaps a lot of that had to do with the fact that unlike the rest of the hospital, the OB/GYN department did not appear to gossip, probably too busy delivering babies to do so.  No word of her procedure has hit the airwaves yet and she was hoping to keep it that way.  "It's not too late until the end of the first trimester."

            Harriet looked at her over the tops of her glasses and frowned.  "Now that was just terrible." 

            "I know," she grinned and hop off the exam table.  "But perfectly true."

            "Yes," came the sighed reply. 

            "And don't think that's not going through the minds of the masses when they get a wind of this and the reasons behind it."

            Thought she hated to admit it, Harriet knew better than most that the criticisms and problems that can arise from this would be very powerful and stressful, not good factors a pregnant woman should have to deal with at such a delicate time.  "Have you told Slingerland yet?"

            "As a matter of fact yes, I have."  She buttoned her shirt and glanced briefly at her own chart for a moment.  "Everything normal?"

            "Your white blood count is a little low, but that's a good thing.  Your blood-pressure it high though and I want you monitoring it throughout the pregnancy, no over exertion for any reason whatsoever.  I'm still not okay with you doing this so soon after your surgery."   

            "It's been almost a year now."

            "Still too soon in my book." 

            "You recommended at least two if I remember correctly." 

            "Yes, and I still do," she took off her glasses and sighed.  "Recurrences of cancer happen within the first two years of remission or treatment.  I'm simply being cautious."  It's been a long day and will probably become even worse since there were three women in labor at the moment.  She wanted to ask Jules to stay and cover the neonatal, no one she trusted more, but with her procedure scheduled for tomorrow, Jules needed her rest.  "So how did he take it?"

            Humming to herself as she played with the plastic baby from the model of the uterus, "How did who take it?"

            "Jules, please don't play with me right now.  I'm too tired."

            Turning, she frowned.  "You okay Harriet?  If I didn't know better, I'd say you were the one on hormone therapy."

            "I'm in need of a good chiropractor and several cups of hot herbal tea, not to mention my husband." 

            Nodding her head wisely, "To answer your question, he didn't take it well at all."

            Given Slingerland social reputation as the hospital playboy, she should have been surprised; but she wasn't.  "How badly did he take it?"

            Jules made a face.  "I'm surprised he didn't strangle me right there in the restaurant." 

flashback

            Slingerland closed his mouth with snap as his teeth came together with more force than healthy.  His face wasn't exactly purple but the hue wasn't all together far off from that particularly unattractive color.  Jules was surprise that smoke wasn't bellowing out of his ear as he appears to struggle with his own need to explode in a very public setting. 

            "Are you going to start yelling now?"

            He stared at her and managed to keep his ire from spilling into the volume of his voice, his tone on the other hand… Through clinched teeth, "I'm attempting to act like the civilized gentleman that my parents attempted to make me into by spending an enormous amount of money on boarding schools." 

            Titling her head, "So that means you don't get to yell?"

            Closing his eyes, he counted to ten; then counted to twenty; then started over and counted to fifty.  When he eventually opened his eyes, she was looking at him with the inquisitive look of a child wondering what they're mommy and daddy are doing.  "Can we get back to the issue at hand?"

            "Sure?" she answered with a shrug.  She was feeling surprisingly calm for someone that is possibly facing a man that is about to lose it.  Maybe it was the massive amount of hormones in her system that is mellowing her at this point.  Of course, at any given second, she could burst into tears.  The mood swings were frustrating at best and damn dangerous at worse.  She nearly cried while examining a baby earlier in the day.  "Why don't we talk some more about the agreement?"

            "Why don't we talk about your decision to have a baby?" 

            "It was time."

            "It was time?" he asked incredulously. 

            "Yes," she answered simply and smiled.  "Can I have some of that cornbread?"

            He stared at her then pushed his plate cross the table.  He watched her tuck cheerfully into the honey sweetened bread.  "Why is it time?"

            "Ever just have that instinctive feeling that something was right?"

            "No."

            Making a face at him, "Well, I have.  And this is it.  Have some salad," pushing the plate to toward then refused to say another until he took a forkful of the greens and munched on it, finding the crunching of it surprisingly satisfying.  "Anyways, I was walking in the park and I had an epiphany while watching little duckys: time for me to have a little one of my own.  End of discussion." 

            Matt shook his head, trying to stop the buzzing of thoughts that's traveling at lightening speed.  "Just like that, you decided to have a child."

            She picked up a cherry tomato and popped it into her mouth.  "Why are you so surprised?  You knew I wanted kids.  Why do you think we went though all that.."

            "Yes, yes but I thought that would be after you have a ring on your finger."

            Glancing down at her fingers, she wiggled them.  The simple silver band around her ring finger with twin tiny gold heart charm, a matching one decorated her sister's right hand, a Christmas present from her wonderful brother-in-law.  "I have a ring."

            He scowled at the lovely little accessory.  "You know what I mean."  He didn't like that fact that her good humor was irritating him, it wasn't logical.  He also didn't enjoy the fact that despite his frustration, he could still enjoy the twinkle of her eyes as she silently laughed at him. 

            "Look," she said, touching the corners of her lips with her napkin, feeling satisfyingly full.  "Does it really matter why you think I'm going to do this because you technically have no say in this."

            "Jules…"

            "And you said so yourself, you won't interfere with what I have planned for my future and the future of these eggs."

            "But…"

            "And how that we've found a very nice use for one of the dozen that's in storage, not that I plan on doing any more of this cause I don't think the administration would forgive me if the hospital got burnt down by overly zealous protestor, I've decided to move toward with the legitimate reasons for having these my eggs fertilized in the first place."  She plucked the desert menu from the stand by the table.  "You want to share a sundae?"

            "No, I don't want to share a sundae, I want to…"

            "More for me then," hailing the waitress from across the room.  "Strawberry please, but no nuts okay?  I don't really like peanuts."

            "We have walnuts if you like those," the pretty waitress suggested sweetly.

            "Matt, do you like walnuts?"

            "No," he snapped irritably. 

            "Well fine then," she replied with a grin, knowing exactly what she was doing to his already taxed mind.  "No nuts please.  But if you have gummy bears…" she looked hopefully.

            The waitress laughed.  "One strawberry sundae with gummies coming right up.  Anything for you, sir?" she asked a little more wary at the dark look from the tall man. 

            "No, thank you," Matt managed to get out without losing his cool. 

            Jules played with her spoon for a moment, wishing she had fries. 

            Calming himself so he didn't give into the urge to choke the life of the infuriating woman, "Jules, can we discuss that fact that I haven't said anything about giving up rights to any child of mine?"

            Stacking her hands carefully on the table, she regarded him with a look that was scary to behold on such a wonderfully sweet, wholesome face.  "Three words for you: Breach of Contract.  Oral agreements are legally binding and can be uphold in the court of law.  I'm warning you right now, if you make me go that route, you and I will not have this nice friendly relationship we are currently enjoying." 

            If he hadn't heard it, he won't have believed it.  Jules Keating was threatening him.  Somehow he did think she had said it to amuse him but amused he was.  Also, he wasn't backing down from this one.  "And if you make me go there, you'll lose.  There are some benefits of having George Slingerland as your father." 

            Crossing her arms over her chest, she regarded him with a puzzle look, baffling Matt with her swiftly changing moods.  "Why are you fighting me on this, Matt?  I thought you said that you don't plan on having any children because you're afraid of some nonsense about your dad's influences." 

            "Yes but that's before…" he stopped himself short, feeling ten times the fool. 

            "Before what?" she asked inquisitively. 

            He reframe from telling her straight out that it was before he realized that she would be carrying his child.  "Can we talk about this idea of yours to…"

            "Will you look at the time?" she asked suddenly. 

            Blinking by the sudden chirpy interruption, "But I thought you wanted dessert?"

            "I'm going to have dessert," she replied with a smile.  "I was talking about you.  Surgery, remember?"

            Glancing down at his watch, Slingerland muttered something decisively ungentlemanly and scrambled to his feet just as the waitress returned with the delicious looking sundae.  Tossing a twenty on the table and putting a five in the waitress's hands.  "Thank you for a lovely meal.  Jules, we'll talk later."  Then headed out the door. 

            The waitress stared at the five in her hand than turned to watch the tall man jog lightly across the street toward the hospital.  "Doctor?" she asked the pretty lady currently enjoying her gummy bears.

            "Yeah," she nodded."

            "Husband?"

            "Nope."

            The waitress shook her head.  "Too bad.  Not too hard on the eyes, that one.  You could do a whole lot worse."

            Jules stared at her.

End Flashback

            "Looks to me like Dr. Slingerland had an attack of responsibility there," Harriet threw out just to the heck of it.  She had her own idea as to what was going on but wisely kept it to herself.  There was no need to add to the fuel of cross wiring when there is obviously a tangled mess there already.  "So why don't you let him?"

            "Let him do what?" Jules asked, a little surprised at Harriet's reaction. 

            "Let him have a few obligations to the baby, you could certainly use to the help," she held up a hand to forestall the protest she could around see ready to pop out.  "That's not an infringement upon your capabilities as a young successful doctor; it's merely a practical fact of life.  Single parents have a very difficult time, no matter what profession they are in.  Having one extra person there to shoulder the burden of parenthood always helps." 

            Jules made a face.  "You sound like my sister."

            Harriet smiled and said nothing more as a gentle knock came from the door.  "Yes?"

            Abby poked her head in and blinked at them for a moment.  "Sorry to interrupt but Norman is having a crisis at receptions right now." 

            "What do you mean?" both doctors on their feet and toward the door. 

            The nurse backed up and led the way.  "He came storming up here and said that he came from pediatrics where they told him that Dr. Keating was here.  Said that his life depended on his being able to get Dr. Keating to Internal Medicines right now." 

            "What happened?" Jules asked, quickening her steps.

            "Hell if I know," Abby replied with a shrug as the approached an obviously agitated Norman.

              "Dr. Keating!" Norman's face lit up like a kid's would on Christmas morning.  "Dr. Slingerland says that you are to report to Internal Medicine immediately."

            Jules tilted her head and regarded him curiously.  "And who gave Slingerland the authority to order me around?"

            "No one but did mention that he would serve my head on a platter if I don't get you upstairs right now," he replied as he ushered her toward the elevators.  "So come on, come on, let's step on it."

            Digging her heels in, "Why does he need to see me so badly that he's got to be threatening you bodily harm?

            Norman tugged on her arm a little harder.  "He says that your sister is in her office right now and that…"

            "My sister is where?" that brought her to a complete stop. 

            "Office," Norman answered, a little surprised by her reaction.  "Now." 

            For a horrifying moment, Jules had a vision of her sister standing over Slingerland's mangled body cackling like a witch.  Then she remembered that her sister was the passive aggressive type, she'd kill him with kindness first… before taking an axe to his head.  "Oh all the nosy, interfering….  Oh god," and left Norman in the dust. 

            Jules managed to come to a skidding stop just as Dr. Slingerland's office door opened to allow a satisfied Jenna Fraser out while a slightly traumatized looking Matt Slingerland politely saw her to the door.  Alarm bells like the aftermath of a detonating nuclear bomb went off in Jules's head.  If she was prone to dramatic scenes, she'd be stomping her foot and throwing a hissy fit right about now.  But since she was a professional individual prone to bottle most emotions, all she could do was groan inwardly and think, "This cannot be good.  This just simply cannot be good at all."

            "Jules," Jenna called out happily, her eyes twinkling with delight as she leaned over and kissed her sister's pale cheek.  "What took you?"

            "Norman had to track me down in Harriet Lanning's office," Jules replied, shifting her body to see Slingerland's shielded eyes.  "Everyone okay here?"

            "Of course," Jenna answered breezily.  "What could possibly have gone wrong, darling?" she was smiling like the cat that corner the mouse and is currently playing horrible games with it. 

            "Quiet," Jules said firmly to her sister.  "Matt, you okay?"

            Slingerland blinked at her, his eyes mildly dilated as if in shock.  "Sure… fine… dandy." 

            Now she knew something was wrong.  "Why don't I believe you?"

            "Because you're not a trusting person by nature," Jenna took Jules's arm and began to move her away.  Turning her head, she called over her shoulders.  "Good bye Dr. Slingerland, it was a pleasure to meet you."

            "Right," Matt managed to answer distractedly before retreating into the sanctuary of his office for some much needed time alone with his own thoughts and reflections. 

            Jules watched Slingerland until the door closed before turning narrowed eyes at her sister.  "What did you do to him?" 

            "I don't know what you mean," she replied sweetly as they made their way to the elevators.  "Are you by any chance off for the day?"

            "Yes and don't avoid the question," punching the down up button.  Her coat and purse was still in her office and she needed them if she was to leave for the day.  If she was lucky, no one will see her about any emergencies before she reaches the exit.  "What did you do to him?"

            "Nothing," Jenna answered with a laugh.  "For gosh sakes, all we did was talk." 

            Jules groaned. 

            "What?  What harm has ever come of just communicating?" 

            "Don't give me that, Jenna," she admonished sternly.  "Talking is your specialty.  You make your living on your mouth and you know better than most how much damage a few choice words could do.  So don't give me some bull about no harm coming from just talking." 

            "Boy, you're getting all worked up over this."

            "What the hell were you doing anyways?  We never agreed for you to ambush Matt like that."

            "I hardly call it an ambush," Jenna said defensively as they stepped off the elevator.  "I made an appointment to see the good doctor and give them my real name.  I don't see how that can constitute as an ambush when I've been above board about everything."

            "Don't give me that," Jules replied, leading the way into her office.  "You ambushed him, there is no getting around that.  But let's move pass it, what did you talk about?"

            "All kinds of things," with a shrug.  "Most about the agreement." 

            "Did he agree to sign it?" she asked eagerly. 

            "No."

            "No?" disappointment evidenced in her voice. 

            Jenna gave her an understanding look.  "He said that he would not be signing the agreement as it currently stands."

            "What's wrong with the agreement?"

            "We didn't quite get into that."

            "But he did mention that he didn't like the agreement?"

            "Yes."

            "But…"

            "Jules, let's get food.  We need to talk."

            "Why don't I like that sound of that?"

            "Probably because you won't." 

~~~~

            It was just after ten in the evening when Jules finally managed to get back to her apartment.  The drive to the airport to put her sister on a plane home was unexpected.  Kevin's doctor had called and he wanted to see the family tomorrow morning.  Whether it is good news or bad he wouldn't say.  But Jules was keeping her fingers crossed. 

            Drifting over to her freezer, she pulled out a pint of Chunky Monkey and a long fancy glass dessert spoon that she bought right after medical school and too many sleepless nights.  She still enjoyed it on occasions. 

            The dinner with Jenna had been less than informative.  There were times when she thought her sister should have been an attorney; Jenna certainly had the knack for avoiding direct questions like one.    After three hours, she was no closer to knowing what had actually happened in Dr. Slingerland's office as she had been coming upon them right after the crime had occurred. 

            The knocking on the door interrupted her thoughts on how to ask David for some help on wheedling information out of his wife.  Licking her spoon and relishing the heavy sweetness on her tongue, she opened the door and nearly bit through the glass.  She really wasn't all together up for visitors, but figured that she could probably get rid of them quickly. 

            A slightly rumpled Dr. Slingerland stood outside the door looking disgruntled and irritable.  The five o'clock shadow should be unattractive on the usually kempt Englishman… but didn't.  It only served to add a little intrigue to his classically handsome face.  His tied had been pulled loose and his hair fingered combed repeated, and despite the chilly evening air, he had his jacket slung over one shoulder.  He was looking at her through eyes were more than just a little cautious.  "Is your sister still in the vicinity?" 

            One brow arched.  "No, she had to catch a flight earlier back to San Diego.  Why?"

            He frowned.  "The SFPD could use her for interrogations."

            "I've always said the same," she replied agreeably then held a hand out when he moved to come in.  "Where do you think you're going?"

            He opened his arms and made a turn.  "I'm not intoxicated.  I have no plans on being in that state any time in the near future; humiliating myself once in your presence is more than enough in my thinking.  Can I come in?  I need to speak with you." 

            Eyeing him carefully, he returned the look with one that almost dared her to say no.  Because she had no doubt in her mind that he would make a big to-do if she didn't, she reluctantly nodded her head and swung the door wider in admittance.  "So much for a quiet night in," she muttered as she closed the door slowly. 

            Turning around and bracing herself for what she could only imagine was a confrontation of a lifetime, Jules was rather unprepared to find Matt a little too close for comfort.  In fact, he was more than just close; he was actively crowding her into the door.  "What are you…"  the rest of the question was lost as Matt applied himself the one task he did better than doctoring. 

            Startled, she didn't resist; simply allowed him to move his lips across hers, sampling the sweetness of her essence.  Then her already erratic hormones did a full chorus of hallelujah and her body went into full on hot-flash that curled her toes.  That was when she knew she was in trouble. 

            Matt pulled his lips away slowly, trailing warm breath across her cheek and against her ear when he felt her drawing away but stayed leaning against her.  He wasn't quite ready to move yet, wasn't all together sure his noodle legs could do more than keep him standing.  Clearing his throat, "That was not what I had intended.  But if you're waiting for an apology, don't hold your breath." 

            "Dutifully warned," she whispered against his ear, feeling her breath hitch somewhere in her throat.  Knowing she might do something stupid, like kiss him in return just to feel that full hum of feminine appreciation, Jules pushed gently on his shoulders with open palms.  "You want to move?"

            "Why?" he asked quietly, savoring the soft floral perfume she wore against her throat.  "Does my being so close bother you?"

            "You know it does or you won't be asking," gentling pushing him again, this time with some reluctance.  She was secretly enjoying the feel of a warm masculine body.  If nothing else, Slingerland was one hell of an attractive man.  "Matt?"

            "Give me a minute, luv, I need to get oxygen first," he replied softly and stayed exactly where he was.

            Since she didn't see any alternatives to the problem at hand, she simply stayed where she was and gave the time he needed to recover from… whatever.  Unfortunately, this also gave her body time to learn the feel of his body against hers.  "Um… Matt."

            "I'm moving, I'm moving…" he muttered and pushed himself off against the door. 

            She breathed a sigh of relief.

            "I wasn't going to hurt you," he informed her as he made his way to the living room.

            "I know that."

            "Then why do you look as if someone just handed you a stay of execution?" 

            Glaring at him, she managed to reframe from kicking him in the shin as she was suddenly tempted to do.  "What do you want, Matt?"

            "Your sister is a menace," he pronounced with a mixture of annoyance and admiration.  "The woman should be wearing a sign the same way people warn others of attack dogs." 

            Despite her discomfort earlier, she laughed.  "David says the same thing." 

            "Brother-in-law?"

            "Her saintly husband," she replied, pulling tall glasses out from the cabinets.  "I suppose it's only polite to ask if you want something the drink."

            "Always the gracious hostesses," he murmured as she poured juice into a cup.  "I don't suppose you have coffee and a tin of biscuits."

            She looked at him, her hand paused midway to pouring.  "No dinner?"

            "I spent the time replying a bad nightmare I had this afternoon," he replied dryly. 

            "She really did a number on you, didn't she?" feeling slightly guilty in association.  Then she remembered Slingerland's mum and dad.  "What happened?"

            "Nothing that I care to repeat," he sighed and toasted her with the juice.  "Here's to annoying family."

            Sympathy swamped her for a moment as she watched him down the drink and sighed exhaustively.  "Want a salad or something?"

            "No," shaking his head, he leaned on the counter and watched as she took a sip of the juice and stared at him.  "I want to talk to you."

            She lowered the glass slowly.  "Tell me you don't have a court order in your pocket."

            "What?"

            "Doesn't matter if you do.  I'm not going to let you stop me."

            "I know," he said quietly.  "I swear all the good ones are stubborn as mules." 

            "Just so you know."

            "I don't like this Jules."

            "But you'll go along with it?"

            "There's nothing I can do to stop it."

            "But you don't like it."

            "Yes."

            Giving a soft chuckle, she opened a box of cookies and handed to him.  "Boy, she really put the whammy on you."

            Matt stared at her.  "Could you please explain to me the scientific nature of 'the whammy'?" 

            Shaking her head, she pulled out a can of soup and poked around the drawers for a can opener.  "So how much of that gravy boat of guilt did she pour on you?  Did she give you all the statistics and stuff?" 

            "Um?"

            Pouring water into a small pot, "Probably gave you one or two stories on the different attempts and gave you some names of the procedures that they've tired?  Tried and failed methods of things.  Even show you pictures of little Kevin…" 

            "Yes, I was shown a very charming photo of a lively lad.  But does your nevvy have to do with…"        

            "And she probably ran through the number of doctors, specialists, and other assortment of torturers our sweet little Kev had to endure in the last couple of months and how he has had really bad reactions to half of whatever the crap they are doing.  I'm so glad that I'm not in oncology, it would drive me up the wall and into the nearest asylum to have to deal with…" 

            He reached out and grabbed her wrist, bring her attention to him.  "Jules?" a light frown wrinkling his brows.  Taking the pot from her, he put it carefully on the stove and turned to face her.  "What are you talking about?" 

            Blinking because she was now lost, Jules studied his confused eyes.  If there was no one thing she's learned to trust, it was her gut instinct on people.  "What exactly did you and Jenna talk about this afternoon?" 

            Something fluttered across his eyes so fast that she would have missed it she hadn't be standing so close.  "Personal things."

            "Yeah, that's not mysterious and evasive," rolling her eyes. 

            "Jules…" Matt warned.

            "All right, all right," she shook him off and turned the gas on the stove.  The man has no sense of eating habits… much like herself.  Reaching for a bottle of water, "I just thought that Jenna would have told you."

            "You know," watching her with hooded eyes, "She made a similar comment."

            "She would," Jules mattered. 

            "So why don't you tell me what this is all about?  And please, I've got very little energy left for the carousal of word-play you and yours seem to enjoy so much.  Once around the merry-go-round today is enough for any sane man."

            "What did she tell you then?"

            "Nothing that amounts to much.  She was much more interested in picking my brain apart."

            "Hazards of the profession," she replied.

            "More like she enjoyed it," he countered as he watched her pour in chicken noodle to the heated water.  He was unsure what was making him salivate more, the smell of food or the comfortable domestic feel of the moment.  "Add pepper for taste."

            Opening a cabinet, she pulled out a small shaker of coarse black pepper.  "Haven't you notice that people that do what they enjoy for a living are better at what they do than people that do the job simply because they can or because it pays well?"

            He opened his mouth to answer but caught himself.  Frowning, "I thought I told you that I didn't want to do the circle-talking thing that you women do so well." 

            Shrugging her shoulders, she dug out a spoon to stir the stew.  "Okay, so you want the whole story."

            "Leave out the non-important things and just give me the highlights." 

            "Six months ago, Kevin was diagnosed with chronic myelogenous leukemia." 

            Matt went rice paper pale.

            Turning the gas off, she reached around him to get a soup bowl.  "He was also unfortunately enough to be born with the AB+ combination."

            "Oh god," he didn't even know what to say to that.  But all the connections began to fall into place.  "I assume that there have been candidates for transfusions and treatments have been in place."

            "Yeah," dropping a big spoon into the hot stew.  "Eat in the dining room," handing him the bowl, which he took numbly, and ushering him into the small area designated as dining room.  She watched him sit then placed a folded napkin by his hand as she watched the fascinating sight of his thinking process. 

            He chewed dumbly and went into doctor mode for a moment.  It was most assuredly easier in doctor mode.  "Any progress on treatments?"

            "Slow but steady, the chemo helped but made him sick.  Too invasive though, the white blood count dropped to the point that he was quarantined three months ago.  They've using localized treatment since."  She toyed with the salt and pepper shakers, a gift from Jenna during a drop down.

            "How he is taking to that?"

            "Slow but better."

            "Still no donor?"

            "I'm closest with four to six.  Jenna and David are both three and three."

            "Blood type?"

            "Yeah."

            He nodded slowly.  "I'm B so I'm assuming you're A."

            "Yeah."

            "Positive?"

            "Of course."

            "No, I meant Rh factor." 

            "That's what I meant too.  Have some crackers," pushing the little tin of salted crackers at him.  He obligingly took two and dropped it into his soup.  "I'm assuming that you did all your research."

            "Yeah."

            "Parents?"

            "Dad was A+, Mom was A+."

            "Grandparents?"

            "Which side?"

            "All."

            "A+, B-, AB+, B+."

            "I don't suppose you went into great-grandparents," she gave him a look and he nodded.  "Of course."  He made an incomprehensible noise and continued to sip soap.  "Good ratios."

            "I thought so.  You?" she asked.

            "Parents are both B+.  Grandparents were…" he frowned and searched his memories.  "I've got two B+, an O+ and I believe an AB-." 

            "So there are still negative Rh factors in there to contend with."  She had known about the parents, having had that in the donor records already, but she hadn't known about the grandparents. 

            "The ratios are still good," he pointed out, scraping the bottom of the bowl. 

            Jules eyed him carefully as she asked the next question.  "So, you think this can work?"

            He stared at her expressionlessly.  Warring ideas and thoughts were not articulated.  "I don't condone it."

            "But?"

            "But what?"

            "I don't know.  It just sounded like there could be a 'but' after that."

            Matt made another unintelligible noise.  "While I certainly do understanding your reasoning, it is still a moralistic choice that may or may not go well with the administration.  And in case you've gotten, I'm still in the suds over Charles's procedure."

            "I know."

            He stared at her in disbelief.  "Then why did you pick a date that is going to land me in hot waters yet again so soon?"

            "You've got the next nine months to prepare yourself.  I think that's more than enough time to come up with a good speech about saving lives and whatnots.  Not that it would matter since you won't be part of this." 

            "Jules…"

            "What is it about this that's bothering you so much?" she demanded hotly, tired of always shaving this question come up.  She's already made up her mind, why can't others simply accept it?   "I'm not asking you for anything but your release of obligations.  You wouldn't be involved."

            "Of course I'm involved, it's my child too!"

            That set her back.  "It is not your child."

            "Of course it is."

            "Says who?"

            Exasperated with this whole conversation that doesn't ever seem to solve anything, "Says the DNA in the sperms that fertilized your eggs.  Or have you forgotten that little part of the pregnancy process.  It takes two," holding up two fingers.

            "I know that," knocking his hand away. 

            He took a deep breath and calmed himself.  This was not how he had envisioned tonight's conversation to go. Of course, nothing that's happened tonight had been what he had logically and rationally constructed while sitting in his office mulling over every fragment of what was left of his sanity after Jenna Fraser had been done with him.  "I want to be a part of the child's life… if there is to be a child."

            Jules blew at her bangs and slumped in her seat.  "Why did I know you were going to say that?"

            "Because I refused to sign the agreement?"

            "Yeah, that could be it."

            "Because deep down you know that I'm a good man?"

            She glared at him.  "Don't push your luck," then startled herself by realizing that she had not been the least bit surprised by latest set back to her domestic plans.  In fact, if she was completely honest with herself, little known fact that she seldom is, she had more than expected him to insistently include himself in her cozy little familial picture.   And it certainly didn't sit well in her own guilty mind that she had been perfectly well expecting him to be there for her and her child.  The simple reason being…  Matt Slingerland was a good man and would make a great father.  Plus she liked the infuriating roguishly handsome doctor and his annoyingly difficult manners.  "Hey, I've got a question for you."

            "Shoot," he muttered, not at all sure he liked the dozen or so emotions he just saw fly across her eyes in under thirty seconds. 

            "Why did you kiss me earlier?"

            That had not been on the list of questions that he had been expecting.  Feeling suddenly and abnormally shy and quite idiotic at the moment, "It felt right."

            "Why?"

            "Testing out a theory your sister was spouting earlier."

            Jules rolled her eyes.  "Leave it to Jenna," she muttered feeling less than sisterly affections toward her sister at the moment.  "What could she have possibly said to you to make you suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss me?"

            Instead of answering her, "Did you enjoy it?"

            She frowned.  "Enjoy what?"

            "The kiss."

            One brow rose.  "What does that matter?"

            "It matters," he replied firmly.

            Confused, "It was… nice," for lack of a better word.

            "Nice?" the disbelief clearly stated on his suddenly expressive face.  "You call that nice?"  It had been more that just 'nice' on from his perspective.  He felt as if someone tossed him into a burning volcano.  Hadn't had that little control over himself since his teenage years.  If he were less than a gentleman, she'd be flat on her back and he'd be feeling a whole lot better than he was right now.  But no one ever accused Matt Slingerland of not having self control.  If fact it's always been the opposite despite popular beliefs.  "Nice is use to describe flowers and sweets, nice is taking your shoes off after a long day in the hospital, nice is finding an extra twenty in your coat pocket, nice is a peck on the cheek; what we did was…" 

            "Fine, fine," and felt herself turn an embarrassing shade of red.  "It was better than nice." 

            He made a face.  "Not one for flattery, are you?"

            "Not one to further expand your ego, Doc," she shot back with a smug look that made him want to reach out and kiss her again.  She rested her elbow on the table and asked again, "So why did you kiss me?"   

            "Because I wanted to."

            "Not good enough.  Try again."

            "Because your sister made me think about things that I may not have wanted to examine too closely." 

            "Oh god, what did Jenna do to your poor little head?  You know, maybe she was using one of those psychology tricks to…"

            "She said I was in love with you."

            After years of her sister's insanities, Jules was still amazed by its depth.  "Whoa, Jenna is really losing her touch these days.  Must be all the distractions in her life but I think this is the most way out there thing that she's said so far.  But then they do say that people in love like to see other people in love, and god only knows how much Jenna loves David.  So she could just be projecting what she's…"

            Matt decided it was time to stop her.  "And I couldn't deny it." 

            That effectively silenced Jules Keating. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued…. (sigh)… as usual. 

When is this story going to end?