DISCLAIMER: We all know what "fanfic" means, right people? Fan + Fiction
= Please don't sue
The characters named in the following work are the exclusive property of
Warner Bros., NBC, John Wells, Jack Orman, Michael Crichton, and I'm sure
about a dozen other stuffed suits.
Note From the Author: Okay Cordanos, here's the deal - Once upon a time, I like the rest of you, saw a great deal of romantic potential between Elizabeth Corday and Robert Romano. And then Elizabeth somehow sneaked away for a personality transplant without telling anyone and came back thinking her soulmate was Mark Greene. Sigh. They got engaged, got pregnant, got married, got a tumor, got Ella, got "Evil Rachel" and thus was spawned "Shrieking Elizabeth". Whimper. Not much inspiration for a great love story. So, if you are so inclined, let my slightly twisted (and very Paul McCrane addled) brain whisk you back in time to witness the creation of an alternate universe...
Not quite a chapter - more like a brief introduction - Our story begins just after the events of season 5, episode 20 - "Power" - Elizabeth and Benton are no more, Elizabeth and Mark are just beginning, and Elizabeth is struggling to understand her boss.
She couldn't sleep.
The air in the room was heavy, thick, nearly choking her as she breathed in and out.
She was wide-awake. Alone with her thoughts and anxieties. Unable to settle her mind, longing for distraction, any distraction.
What a time for the bed to be empty.
She was past missing Peter - recent turns of events had helped that along. He was good, very good. But she'd only just discovered the man could ravage her emotionally even better than he ever had physically. She thought back to that day in the locker room, after Anspaugh had finished serving her her own pride for lunch.
Shedding your skin, Dr. Snake?
So maybe first impressions are more reliable than people give them credit for.
She'd tried hard with him, exerted more effort than he deserved. She abided his anxieties, his insecurities, confided in him her fears and uncertainty about her future - and this was what she was left with, how he chose to thank her. Her future was a stark, gray question mark; a decision left to someone else to make. All she could do was step into those hallways every day and try to prove that she was good enough, talented enough, sharp enough, stubborn enough - proving, proving, always something to prove. Days leaving her drained, shifts leaving her wasted and exhausted. Like today...
He said shifting gears would work. He had been right, for a while. Had helped her feel giddy and energetic, much like a child. Laughs like those were becoming fewer and farther between. And then the damn power had blown again. He brought her home, touched her face gently as he stood with her outside the door. Normally such moments would produce a heady rush of hormones that she could surrender to, and be swept away by. But tonight, there was only sweet sincerity, an affectionate friendship. Bloody hell.
Elizabeth lay under the linens of the bed, suddenly irritable. She rolled on her side, swiping tousled curls away from her face. So, if he didn't leave her feeling enticed, why was she so restless?
Must have been Laurie. God, that poor woman. Elizabeth had opened up the human body time and again - had seen every inch of internal tissue subjected to some horrible trauma. But the sight of that limp, battered body, abandoned so carelessly on a bare gurney, would always rank high as one of the most pathetic sights she'd ever witnessed. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering. She tried to silence her raging mind as it produced the most despicable imaginings of what action may have left every bruise. The tragedy of the event was only heightened by the near- thwarted attempt to save her. She remembered observing Romano's incision, and then being lost in utter blackness. Realizing that surgeons aren't accustomed to feeling helpless. Controlled panic, silent urgency, a return to basic medical monitoring and instinct.and the tormented abused body was restored. She would live to breathe another day. Except, not really. Not without help, anyway. But it wasn't her job to assess who should be kept alive and who should be allowed to drift away. He reminded her of that, much to her chagrined surprise. Yes, Laurie's case was just another example of how human depravity never ceased to amaze her.
Neither did its sudden and unexplained reversal.
He had put her through her paces; there was no denying that. She had jumped through every hoop he'd placed in front of her. She had fought to earn his respect, but never felt like he granted it. She knew she had his admiration, but somehow, it just wasn't the same thing. Of course, the nuances would escape him, should anyone ever try to explain. Grouchy little wanker. She had come to the States so certain of her course. And now, she was adrift, no clear career path in front of her, scrambling to create her own meal from the scraps dropped from other's plates. He snatched away her opportunity and left her to carve her own niche, all because of an uncomfortable moment at the lunch counter of a cliched greasy spoon.
Well, you sure showed him, didn't you Elizabeth? He expected you to run - maybe you should have. But you didn't. You stayed, took the demotion, essentially started over. Let him see your subservient side. And probably gave him the most intellectual thrill his over-inflated ego could ever hope for. Well done.
Months of abuse, of posturing, of scheming and manipulating.and then he stood before her tonight, a simple plea on his lips.
I would do anything in my power to have you stay in surgery.
She was floored, though she felt she'd done a good job of hiding it. One good thing about hours of tedious surgery performed in the dark - it made those watching you willing to believe your shocked surprise was just bewildered exhaustion. His voice was almost lyrical, and without realizing it he had paid her the sweetest, most endearing compliment she'd ever received.
Your face I can't resist....
He offered up the ultimate concession - an example of his own humility. Acknowledging her distaste for their professional association. Making a promise to give her a wide berth. Dark eyes burning into her all the while. And then he was crossing the room, circling the bed, extending his arm. For a moment, Elizabeth believed he would take her face in his hand, fingers brushing her earlobe, thumb tracing her jaw, and.
All he did was take the bag from her hand.
Dear God, is that why she couldn't sleep?! She'd just finished one of the most intense shifts in her work as a doctor. She had to bear witness to, and lend a hand in, a rape and near-murder victim's struggle to hang on to life. She had to identify the woman's attacker, dead in the morgue by his own hand. She had gone on what was, for all intents and purposes, a second date with a man who was kind and gentle and sincere. And tomorrow she was going to walk back into the hospital and give all she had, even though by the end of the day, they may decide that they no longer have room for her.
Yet now she lay awake, consumed by thoughts of a ninety-second conversation with Romano? Utterly ridiculous.
She pounded the pillow with her fist, thrust her ear against it's depth, and yanked the sheet up over her shoulder.
Romano...
Note From the Author: Okay Cordanos, here's the deal - Once upon a time, I like the rest of you, saw a great deal of romantic potential between Elizabeth Corday and Robert Romano. And then Elizabeth somehow sneaked away for a personality transplant without telling anyone and came back thinking her soulmate was Mark Greene. Sigh. They got engaged, got pregnant, got married, got a tumor, got Ella, got "Evil Rachel" and thus was spawned "Shrieking Elizabeth". Whimper. Not much inspiration for a great love story. So, if you are so inclined, let my slightly twisted (and very Paul McCrane addled) brain whisk you back in time to witness the creation of an alternate universe...
Not quite a chapter - more like a brief introduction - Our story begins just after the events of season 5, episode 20 - "Power" - Elizabeth and Benton are no more, Elizabeth and Mark are just beginning, and Elizabeth is struggling to understand her boss.
She couldn't sleep.
The air in the room was heavy, thick, nearly choking her as she breathed in and out.
She was wide-awake. Alone with her thoughts and anxieties. Unable to settle her mind, longing for distraction, any distraction.
What a time for the bed to be empty.
She was past missing Peter - recent turns of events had helped that along. He was good, very good. But she'd only just discovered the man could ravage her emotionally even better than he ever had physically. She thought back to that day in the locker room, after Anspaugh had finished serving her her own pride for lunch.
Shedding your skin, Dr. Snake?
So maybe first impressions are more reliable than people give them credit for.
She'd tried hard with him, exerted more effort than he deserved. She abided his anxieties, his insecurities, confided in him her fears and uncertainty about her future - and this was what she was left with, how he chose to thank her. Her future was a stark, gray question mark; a decision left to someone else to make. All she could do was step into those hallways every day and try to prove that she was good enough, talented enough, sharp enough, stubborn enough - proving, proving, always something to prove. Days leaving her drained, shifts leaving her wasted and exhausted. Like today...
He said shifting gears would work. He had been right, for a while. Had helped her feel giddy and energetic, much like a child. Laughs like those were becoming fewer and farther between. And then the damn power had blown again. He brought her home, touched her face gently as he stood with her outside the door. Normally such moments would produce a heady rush of hormones that she could surrender to, and be swept away by. But tonight, there was only sweet sincerity, an affectionate friendship. Bloody hell.
Elizabeth lay under the linens of the bed, suddenly irritable. She rolled on her side, swiping tousled curls away from her face. So, if he didn't leave her feeling enticed, why was she so restless?
Must have been Laurie. God, that poor woman. Elizabeth had opened up the human body time and again - had seen every inch of internal tissue subjected to some horrible trauma. But the sight of that limp, battered body, abandoned so carelessly on a bare gurney, would always rank high as one of the most pathetic sights she'd ever witnessed. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering. She tried to silence her raging mind as it produced the most despicable imaginings of what action may have left every bruise. The tragedy of the event was only heightened by the near- thwarted attempt to save her. She remembered observing Romano's incision, and then being lost in utter blackness. Realizing that surgeons aren't accustomed to feeling helpless. Controlled panic, silent urgency, a return to basic medical monitoring and instinct.and the tormented abused body was restored. She would live to breathe another day. Except, not really. Not without help, anyway. But it wasn't her job to assess who should be kept alive and who should be allowed to drift away. He reminded her of that, much to her chagrined surprise. Yes, Laurie's case was just another example of how human depravity never ceased to amaze her.
Neither did its sudden and unexplained reversal.
He had put her through her paces; there was no denying that. She had jumped through every hoop he'd placed in front of her. She had fought to earn his respect, but never felt like he granted it. She knew she had his admiration, but somehow, it just wasn't the same thing. Of course, the nuances would escape him, should anyone ever try to explain. Grouchy little wanker. She had come to the States so certain of her course. And now, she was adrift, no clear career path in front of her, scrambling to create her own meal from the scraps dropped from other's plates. He snatched away her opportunity and left her to carve her own niche, all because of an uncomfortable moment at the lunch counter of a cliched greasy spoon.
Well, you sure showed him, didn't you Elizabeth? He expected you to run - maybe you should have. But you didn't. You stayed, took the demotion, essentially started over. Let him see your subservient side. And probably gave him the most intellectual thrill his over-inflated ego could ever hope for. Well done.
Months of abuse, of posturing, of scheming and manipulating.and then he stood before her tonight, a simple plea on his lips.
I would do anything in my power to have you stay in surgery.
She was floored, though she felt she'd done a good job of hiding it. One good thing about hours of tedious surgery performed in the dark - it made those watching you willing to believe your shocked surprise was just bewildered exhaustion. His voice was almost lyrical, and without realizing it he had paid her the sweetest, most endearing compliment she'd ever received.
Your face I can't resist....
He offered up the ultimate concession - an example of his own humility. Acknowledging her distaste for their professional association. Making a promise to give her a wide berth. Dark eyes burning into her all the while. And then he was crossing the room, circling the bed, extending his arm. For a moment, Elizabeth believed he would take her face in his hand, fingers brushing her earlobe, thumb tracing her jaw, and.
All he did was take the bag from her hand.
Dear God, is that why she couldn't sleep?! She'd just finished one of the most intense shifts in her work as a doctor. She had to bear witness to, and lend a hand in, a rape and near-murder victim's struggle to hang on to life. She had to identify the woman's attacker, dead in the morgue by his own hand. She had gone on what was, for all intents and purposes, a second date with a man who was kind and gentle and sincere. And tomorrow she was going to walk back into the hospital and give all she had, even though by the end of the day, they may decide that they no longer have room for her.
Yet now she lay awake, consumed by thoughts of a ninety-second conversation with Romano? Utterly ridiculous.
She pounded the pillow with her fist, thrust her ear against it's depth, and yanked the sheet up over her shoulder.
Romano...