Author's Note: Well, it's only been five months since the last time I posted a chapter (looks shamefaced). I can't even use the excuse that I've been battling for inspiration, because I have all the story pretty much mapped out, but I guess you could say my muses are having some motivational issues. But anyway, here you go. I hope (probably completely in vain) that it's worth the wait. I can't say I'm entirely happy with it, I feel like I lost the tone I was aiming at part way through, but you can be the judge.
Disclaimer: As before. The scene is obviously directly taken from Out on a Limb, with a little embellishment from me of course.
Neela paused before rummaging in her bag for her keys. The meeting had been terrible. She'd thought going would be a good idea. She thought if she spent some time with other army spouses, sympathising over common problems, she might feel a little closer to Michael, a little more part of what he was doing.
Or at least, that's what she told herself. She did want that, but what she really wanted, what she really wanted to know, was if what she was feeling was normal. She wanted – no, needed – to know if it was okay to be angry. Whether everyone felt betrayed that their husband or wife had chosen their country above their marriage. Whether everyone…
Whether everyone was in love with their roommate instead of their husband.
Because, she said to herself, that's what you really want to know. Are you really in love with Ray? Or is it some stupid infatuation? But then, it wasn't even an infatuation for him; he was already onto the next girl. Damn him. Damn him. He hadn't even tried to be sensitive about asking her to go out tonight so he could bring his date back. He was probably in there with her right now, making the walls shake.
Whatever her reasons for going, the meeting had been a disaster. She started off with a black mark against her name for bringing boughten cookies instead of home baked ones. Huh, she'd thought, they wouldn't be so bloody judgemental of my baking skills if they came into the ER bleeding out from an obscure liver lac. And it had just gotten worse from there really. She knew she'd been foolish though, it hadn't been the best place to mention that she was against the war.
But God, she was just so angry. With Michael, with Ray, with herself, with everything. This mess was not how things were meant to turn out.
She sighed wearily, and took her keys out of her bag, steeling herself for the trail of clothes that she would no doubt have to pick her way through before she could retreat to the sanctuary of her room. Determinedly, she swiped away the tears that had built up. Damn him. Damn them all. She wasn't going to cry.
Just before she inserted the key into the lock though, she paused. There was music coming from inside, but not one of Ray's normal punk rock choices. It sounded familiar though… It sounded like…
She burst through the door. 'Ray?'
There was a basketball game on the television, but he shifted awkwardly in the chair. 'Hey.'
She frowned. 'Are you watching Ghost?' She looked around the apartment. It was in darkness, the only light emanating from the television screen, but it looked like he was alone. No toothbrush stealing teenagers lurking in doorways. Don't Neela, she warned herself. Don't get your hopes up.
'What?' He glanced up at her guiltily. 'No. No, it's the game.'
She wanted to smile, and if she'd had the slightest scrap of energy, she would have done. How did he do that? How, just when she thought she had him pegged, did he manage to totally blindside her? They had watched Ghost together once, when they'd both had the flu and been off work. He had made her watch three cult horror flicks in a row before she finally put her foot down, insisting on picking the next film, popping Ghost into the dvd player before he had a chance to argue. He'd said he hated it.
'Where's your date?' She tried to keep the bitterness from her voice. God, it was hard though.
'Oh, um, yeah, something happened,' he replied evasively.
'She stood you up.'
Ray glanced up at her, contemplating whether to tell the truth. He tried sounding it out in his head. I cancelled on the hottest, most perfect-for-me chick I've met in months because I'm so madly in love with you it's clearly eroded my thought processes. No, he decided, definitely won't be going with the truth.
'Yeah. Fine. You know, if that's what you want to hear, she stood me up, okay?'
He knew his tone came across as pissed off, and realised actually he was. Was she so damn unaware of what she was doing to him? Did that night mean so little to her that she couldn't see what he felt?
And then she smiled, and sat next to him, and in an instant, all was forgiven. Now she was closer, he could see the remnants of tears glistening on her lower lashes.
'Well, you are a mere mortal after all,' she grinned. Her eyes were alight for a second, and the flash of happiness was in such a contrast to how she had been lately, it was amazing. He knew in that moment that he didn't care what happened, whether she drove him completely crazy, whether she lived happily ever after with Michael and he ended up throwing himself under a train in despair, that he would never, never have not known her. Whatever she put him through was worth it. She was worth it.
She flopped down on the couch next to him, still holding, he noticed, an unopened tub of cookies.
'You okay?' Please tell me what's wrong.
'Is it possible to kick yourself out of a club?' she asked flatly.
He had been hoping for something a little more profound, but grateful for any scrap, he took a ridiculous sliver of comfort from the fact that her cosy little Army Wives Club hadn't gone well. To disguise the flicker of triumph that he felt burning, unwelcomed, in his chest, he leaned forward and picked two bottles of beer from the coffee table in front of them.
'Well, to better times, huh?' Amen to that.
She chinked the neck of her bottle against his. 'Yeah.'
One of the things Neela missed about Ray, above and beyond anything else, was the feeling of closeness. She had been so studiously avoiding him for the last few weeks that she had barely been in the same room as him for more than a few minutes at a time, and she had forgotten how good it felt to be near him.
She missed the way he would wind her up and up, then just as she was ready to hit him, he would flash that brilliant smile at her and she found herself forgiving him instantly. She missed telling him off. She missed laughing with him, talking to him, the countless insignificant moments they used to share every day. The intimacy.
Well, there was no reason why they couldn't be friends, at least for a while, until the storm broke. If Ray was seeing other girls, then the night they'd spent together obviously didn't mean all that much to him, so if she could at least pretend to put him back in the same box as he was before – roomie – then she could have just a couple more months that she could store in her heart forever. No matter what happened, she would have the memories.
And she couldn't bring herself to avoid him any longer. Not spending time with him every day was killing her.
'You know,' she found herself saying, 'I feel very proud of Michael. It's just sometimes, when I'm with those other wives, I start to get so angry, frustrated, and I talk to much.' Like now, Neela. Stop. While you still can.
He glanced at her, the hint of a smile breaking through the attempt to keep a straight face.
'It's only because I miss him.' And you, Ray. I miss you too. Even though I'm sitting right next to you, I miss you.
She paused, thinking of something else before the words she really wanted to say were out and causing destruction. 'This is utterly pathetic.'
'What?'
'This. A married woman living like a college student, crying next to her roommate on a sofa.'
He didn't react. He wouldn't react. He wasn't going to let what he was feeling get out. Here she was, upset and lonely that her husband had left her and their marriage to throw himself into a warzone, and all he was thinking was how beautiful she looked and the way her skin glowed, and the fact that he really, really, wanted to take away all her pain. To kiss her, and make it all better. If only he could. If only she'd let him.
He exhaled slowly, trying not to think about just how close she was. 'Okay, well,' he said when he felt his voice was steady enough not to give him away. 'I have something that will make you feel better.'
He dug down the side of the sofa and pulled out the remote control, selecting the World Poker Tour he'd recorded earlier.
'Oh, you recorded it for me.' Her voice perked up, and instantly she was engrossed in the television.
'Anything for my roomie.'
When he felt her head rest on his shoulder, he smiled softly to himself. Worth it.
All of it, totally worth it.
And now you've read that, can I pick your brains a moment? I have this idea, you know the kind, the annoying, bugging, won't go away type idea, for a new story. It's a Season 15 ER/AU Season 5 Grey's Anatomy crossover with Ray as one of the main, if not the main, character. Without giving too much away, the very basic, rough premise would be Season 15 with Ray based at Seattle Grace instead of Baton Rouge. What do you think? Would you read it? Should I bother? Or should I go lock my muses in a padded room?
