Chapter Twenty-One

Jaime was back on her feet within 48 hours, surprising even her doctors with her determination to simply get on with it. "Did you know that Steve and I used to date?" Jaime asked Michael when they resumed their daily walk together.

"Yes," Michael told her. "We'd hoped we could tell you ourselves – or better yet, let Steve tell you – when the time was right. No one intended for you to find out the way you did."

"I know," she answered, wrapping her arms around his neck and tilting her head back to smile at him. "You were all trying to protect me – and I appreciate that. But I'm okay now...I think. At least, as far as I know. What's your diagnosis, Doctor Marchetti?" Her eyes met his flirtatiously and Michael's arms automatically encircled her waist, returning her embrace. Doctor and Man had just become hopelessly entangled together.

"Well, you'll have to tell me," he said. "Have you had any more of the pain?"

"Nope. I'd tell you if I did."

Would you? Michael wondered silently. "Not even a twinge?" he questioned. Jaime shook her head, grinning happily. "What about dreams?"

"Yeah – I have dreams. No bad ones, though. Just normal-person dreams."

"I'm glad," Michael affirmed. He couldn't help noticing how Jaime's eyes gleamed with happiness and health...and he couldn't stop himself from kissing her.

Jaime responded by leaning fully into his arms and deepening the kiss. She'd never felt like this before – at least, not that she could remember – and she liked it...a lot. Being out here with Michael – and being in his arms – made her feel like a woman rather than just a patient (or a lab experiment). It was a feeling she found she couldn't get enough of...and never wanted to lose.

* * *

"How are you dealing with all of this?" Oscar asked Steve. He had seen Jaime leave the building with Michael and while he had no idea just how close they'd become, he knew the sight of them together must pain his friend terribly.

"Oh, I'm okay," Steve said absently.

"You could at least try to sound convincing, if you're going to lie to an Intelligence man," Oscar told him.

"I'm glad Jaime's okay, that she's alive and recovering so well. The rest...I'm still working on," Steve allowed. (He had never been a man used to sharing his feelings.)

"How much does she know now – about the two of you?"

"I've told her we dated in high school, that we were close then and have stayed friends ever since. She knows my parents became her guardians – I told her that this morning – but she doesn't know we grew up together...or -"

"Or that you were engaged?" Oscar finished for him.

"Yeah, that. I can't find the words to tell her that, and since she hasn't asked..."

"You're a good man – you know that, right?"

Steve looked away, the emotions of the moment almost too much for him. "I just wish I was a good man for Jaime," he said finally.

"You will be someday," Oscar told him. "I still firmly believe that."

"I hope you're right," Steve allowed, looking out the window to see Jaime returning to the complex – with Michael's arm around her waist. Steve stepped in front of the window to shield them from Oscar's view. He didn't really care if Michael was exposed, but – as always – Steve felt the need to protect Jaime. He guessed that no matter what, he always would.

* * *

One other person's view had been completely unobstructed; Rudy happened to glance up from his desk at exactly the right (or, for Michael the wrong) moment. He cornered his young assistant as Michael was leaving Jaime's room. "We need to talk," Rudy sputtered. "In the lab. Now."

Michael paled, guessing correctly what this might be about. As soon as the lab door closed behind them, Rudy made no effort to tone himself down. His voice grew louder and more angry with every word. "Care to tell me just exactly what the hell you're thinking? Getting involved with a patient!"

"I -" Michael began.

"The ethics board would have a field day! Not to mention Oscar! How could you let this happen, Michael? Why?"

Michael had no defense. He was in the wrong – and he knew it. "I...it never went further than a kiss," he hedged (knowing that didn't make it any better).

"Well, Thank God for small favors!" Rudy shouted. (Soundproofing the lab had been his idea and today it was paying off; his protege was getting every ounce of his anger – with both barrels.) "You had no business even laying a hand on her! How could you possibly have imagined this was okay?"

"I...didn't," Michael admitted. "It just...happened."

"Did it? And with absolutely no help from you, I'd imagine? How convenient!"

Michael had never seen Rudy this angry. "Are you taking me off of Jaime's case?" he asked, very quietly.

"Do I need to?" Rudy countered. "You're the best at what you do – and you know that! Jaime needs the best possible care. But is it safe to allow you anywhere near her? Can I trust you, Michael?"

"This won't happen again," Michael promised.

"It had better not!" Rudy stormed. "Or I'll turn you over to the ethics board myself!"

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon, Michael sat at his desk with his head in his hands, trying to figure out a way to return to a strictly doctor-patient relationship – or to any sense of normalcy. He wasn't sure himself just how this had happened; how had someone who had always been fact-based and immersed in his work allowed himself to fall in love – with a patient, no less? Yes, he finally had to admit to himself, I do love her.

Briefly, he considered pulling himself off of Jaime's case - or leaving medicine entirely if that was what it took to be with her. But...was that what was best for Jaime? Of course not, he chided himself. She may think she needs Michael – and maybe she really does – but she needs Doctor Marchetti far more. Resolving in his own mind what was right, Michael headed out of the office and down the hall to Jaime's room.

* * *

"I understand...I think," Jaime said, her eyes brimming with tears. "Are you in some kind of trouble now?"

"You don't need to worry about that," Michael told her. "This is one hundred percent my fault – and I'm so sorry. I should never have allowed it to happen."

"You weren't the only one there, you know," Jaime pointed out logically. "It takes two."

"I appreciate that, but I still have to take the responsibility, wherever that leads. If you're not comfortable having me as your doctor now, I'll understand, but -"

"Comfortable? Michael, you saved my life! I was dead! I'd be six feet under with a stone over my head if it weren't for you!"

"I'd like to continue treating you, but only if you feel that's okay; the choice is entirely yours."

Jaime hesitated – but not for the reason that Michael had feared. "Are...you okay with it?"

"Of course," he said in his best bedside manner. "I want what's best for you."

"And you're the best," Jaime concluded. "So please don't go. Rudy's great with the bionic side of things and you...well, you balance him out."

Michael smiled. "Alright. See you in the gym tomorrow, then?"

Jaime groaned. "Not the weights again?"

"Doctor's orders," he told her. Doctor Marchetti had returned.

* * * * *