Usually, Erin looked forward to Fridays. A slow Friday in the ER put
everyone in a jovial mood. And busy Fridays always seemed to fly by.
But not this one. In addition to fighting the hospital computer in order to collect serology reports and nearly going blind searching the print for findings to support her thesis, she had worked a ten-hour shift in the ER. She was closing up her locker and fishing her car keys from her purse when Romano appeared in the lounge. "I hope you don't think you're going anywhere."
She looked at him incredulously. "I'm going home," she said firmly.
"I think not, my good doctor. We have a hundred and sixty pages of data to correlate. Slides to evaluate, notes to take, outlines to complete." He smirked evilly. "No rest for the wicked, my dear."
She ran her fingers through her hair. "Dr. Romano, I really think I'd be more effective if I just picked it all up on Sunday."
"Sunday? What do you mean Sunday? That's, like, thirty-six hours away." Erin's brow furrowed. "Tomorrow's the first day off I've had in a month."
"Well, one more week won't kill you."
His smug tone and self-satisfied grin made her blood boil, and she finally snapped. She planted her hands on her hips and looked him dead in the eye. "It is eight o'clock on a Friday night. I have been in this building for fifteen hours straight. I have been bitten, puked on, and some drunken frat guy grabbed my ass twice. I haven't eaten since nine this morning, and I miss my dog, who has probably shredded every inch of toilet paper in my house." She took a deep breath and spoke slowly and deliberately. "I am going home." She squared her shoulders and waited for his tirade.
He stood silent for a moment, and then spoke as casually as if she had asked him the time. "Okay, so we work at your place tonight. Can you make dinner for both of us, or should I bring my own?" Her expression twisted into one of incredulity and impatience. "Okay, so I'll bring dinner for both of us. I hope you like Kung Pao. See you in an hour." He pulled open the door, then stopped suddenly. "Oh, and try not to hold it against the frat guy. After all, it is a rather exquisite ass." He was gone before the exasperated gasp left her lips. A bit rattled, she shouldered her bag and headed out to her car.
An hour later, to the minute, there was a knock at her door. Erin realized she was surprised, that she hadn't actually believed he would show up. But there he was on her front porch, holding a brown paper bag. She opened the door and was greeted with the wonderful aroma wafting from the food. "I am assuming you have all the necessary paperwork. I'd like to hammer quite a bit out tonight," he spoke brusquely. Erin looked at him condescendingly as she pushed open the door for him to step inside. "Welcome to my home, Dr. Romano, won't you come inside?" she deadpanned. He moved past her, glancing around. The tiny house reflected her personality, and he couldn't help but feel amused. He reached the kitchen and placed the food on the table. He could hear music coming from the stereo and frowned. "Where's the TV?" Erin gestured to the living room. "I like to eat with the TV on."
Before she could stop herself, the words just tumbled out: "Then go home and turn it on."
Robert grinned at her sharp response. "You are a feisty one," he chuckled. She chose not to comment; instead she took her seat and reached for the food. The silence hung palpably between them as they ate, neither of the certain where to look or what to say. Relieved when they were finished and able to move on to work, Erin thanked him for dinner. He demurred briefly, and they began sifting through the stacks of reports scattered around the living room. They had been working for a couple hours when she grasped her neck with the hands and groaned softly. Robert glanced over at her. "Stiff neck?" He asked casually. Erin nodded. "You know, it's because your posture sucks." He stood and moved behind her, laying his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened beneath his touch, and he spoke sharply. "Relax." She did, behaving more in response to his order than out of reassurance. Robert began to manipulate her head from side to side in long, deep, circular movements. Soon she was lost in the feeling of the tension melting away. She was almost disappointed when he stopped. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"Welcome," he arched his own back and checked his watch. "Well, I guess that's enough for tonight." He headed for the door. She rose to her feet to follow him. "What time should I be in tomorrow?" she asked as he pulled her front door open.
"Tomorrow's your day off, Miss Windsor" he spoke curtly. "Enjoy it. There won't be another for a while." He chirped his car alarm, and Erin called out to him suddenly.
"Dr. Romano?"
He paused before climbing into the driver's seat, looking at her expectantly.
"Don't call me that. It sounds so patronizing."
"I guess you'd prefer DR. Windsor." His words were snide, but his tone had a gentle edge.
"Erin would be fine."
The two stood looking at each other, and suddenly, Erin realized something odd was happening. Something seemed to pass between them, a feeling she couldn't quite identify. She tried to glean whether he felt it, too, but his expression remained unchanged. "Good night, Erin," he said, and then slid into the car. He drove away quickly, leaving her to wonder.
Eventually, the paper was finished. It was published and received quite a bit of acclaim. Erin returned to her regular schedule, and was surprised to find herself affected by the reduction in time spent with Dr. Romano. They still crossed paths at work; he still kept her dancing, one minute an insufferable ass, one minute the consummate professional. And every once in a while, Erin would sense that spark of almost-friendship, and would wonder if he ever gave her any thought.
She got her answer one afternoon when she found herself alone in the elevator with him. "Dr. Windsor, may I speak to you about something of a personal nature?" She nodded, her expression soft as she realized he was genuinely flustered. "As you and Dr. Corday are quite close, I assume you've been invited to her wedding."
"I'm her maid of honor, actually."
Robert nodded himself. "I see. And since you and Dr. Corday are quite close, I assume you and she have spoken about her relationship with me."
Erin gulped a bit, unsure how to answer. "Well, not really. But."
"But what?"
Erin bit her lower lip. "I.well, she. I mean, it's a little obvious."
"Good God, spit it out!"
She chose her words carefully. "I know you are very fond of her."
She could tell by Robert's expression that he believed she knew it was much more that that, but he seemed grateful for her discretion. He continued. "Well, I've been invited as well, and as you can probably guess, I'd rather not go alone." He fell silent, and his demeanor betrayed that he was quite nervous. It dawned on Erin exactly what was happening, and she could not hold back just a bit of teasing. "Why, Dr. Romano, are you asking me on a date?"
He winced. "Let's think of it as more of a business function."
She giggled a little. "You're asking me to be your date."
"Don't act so cocky! It's not like you're the only woman I could go with!" He spoke hotly. Erin laughed again, realizing there was no way he could insult her, not when she knew how flustered he was.
"Well, good. Go ask one of them"
"Oh, come on now. I would think you'd want to make Lizzie's special day as comfortable as possible. God knows the last thing a pregnant bride wants is to make small talk with a stranger their boss brought to their reception."
Erin giggled again. "Okay, okay. I'll go with you."
"Thank you."
"As soon as you admit that you're asking me on a date." She smiled sweetly.
"Erin." he growled.
"All right, all right, all right. But I have to be at the church an hour early." The elevator doors opened on the ER. And she stepped out. He jabbed the "door close" button, eager to escape her gaze. Erin returned to work, anxious to tell Elizabeth what transpired.
The day of the wedding arrived, and Robert stood waiting outside the lounge. He was dressed sharply in an Armani suit, pacing and checking his watch. "Is it genetically impossible for women to be on time?"
"Oh, shut up," Erin's voice turned his head, and his breath caught in his throat a bit. Her auburn hair was piled on top of her head, baring her angular neck. Her dress was cornflower blue silk and clung to every curve of her body. The slit on the side revealed a long, flawless leg, and her open-toed sandal confirmed that leg was bare. "You look amazing," he said simply. Erin was a tad thrown but his simple and sincere compliment. "Thank you," she smiled. "You're looking quite dashing yourself."
"Speaking of dashing," he tapped his watch.
"I know, I know," she said. "Jerry, don't forget to page psych when Mr. Simm's films are back. And make sure Malik gives the lady in curtain two ten of Adavan" Robert slipped an arm around her waist and physically moved her out the door. His car was parked in the ambulance bay, and he opened the door for her to slide in. He climbed in beside her and gunned the engine. He eased the Jaguar onto the street and rounded the corner. As they drove, Erin pulled down the visor and opened the vanity mirror. Then she pulled a tube form her purse, and began to paint her lips a rich pink. Robert couldn't help but watch her, and he suddenly realized the image was eliciting quite a reaction below his waist. He cast his eyes down, only to have his gaze fall on her legs. They were crossed, left over right, and the slit of her dress revealed the left all the way up to mid- thigh. He could see the defined line of muscle beneath the softly tanned skin, and the activity in his groin kicked into a higher gear. Leaning over to change the radio station, he shifted nonchalantly in his seat. Erin did not seem to notice, and he breathed silent thanks for that.
Once at the church, Robert accompanied her to the bride's room. Erin watched him as he spoke to Elizabeth, and her heart broke for him a little. She made a mental note to try and keep his spirits up, wondering briefly why it seemed so important. Her eyes found his a couple of times during the ceremony, and he always dropped her small wink, as if to say, "Don't worry about me, kid." When they all retired to the reception, she took her place at his side, scoffing at Carter and Malucci as they teased her about being "Rocket's" date. They sat at their table mostly, not talking too much, Robert trying not to stare too much at Mark and Elizabeth. At one point, he caught himself, and turned apologetically to Erin. "Look at me. I'm a guest at a wedding, the most gorgeous woman in the room is my date, and I sit pining after the bride."
Erin touched his hand gently. "It's okay."
Robert suddenly belted back his glass of champagne and dropped his napkin on the table. He rose to his feet and offered her his hand. "No, it isn't. Will you dance with me?"
Wordlessly, Erin slipped her hand into his, and he led her to the dance floor. He put his arm around her, resting his hand against the small of her back. The deep v-cut of her gown allowed his skin to make contact with hers, and she shivered a bit. She put her arm around his shoulders, and he began to move her gracefully across the floor.
"Now I know why you really asked me to come with you," she said. His expression was inquisitive, and a devilish gleam lit her eyes.
"I'm the only woman you could find shorter than you."
He laughed heartily. "Yeah, you are pretty tiny." A silence fell between them that was not entirely uncomfortable, and Erin allowed him to pull her body a bit closer to his. He rested his chin in the hollow between her shoulder and her neck, seeking only innocent comfort. At that moment, Erin realized two things that truly dismayed her. The first was exactly how hard Robert had fallen for Elizabeth. The second, and more alarming of the two, was exactly how much it bothered her.
"Oh, my God," she thought to herself. "I'm jealous."
She lay her cheek on his shoulder, trying to ignore the rapid beating of her heart.
The evening wound down quickly, and the two soon found themselves alone in his car outside her front door. "Well, thank you for making a horrible evening much easier to stomach," he said flatly, gently squeezing her hand. He face softened in sympathy. "Robert, I'm sorry."
"Hey, no sweat, gorgeous. Don't give it another thought." She reached for the handle, but he stopped her. "A lady in a dress like that deserves to be walked to her door." He stepped from the car and walked around to open her door. He took her hand and helped her out, then placed his hand on the small of her back as he escorted her up her front steps. She unlocked the door and opened it slowly. "Do you want to come in for some coffee?" Coffee?! Come in for some coffee?! Her mind screamed at her. What the hell are you thinking?! Her eyes locked with his, and she knew he could tell exactly what she was thinking and feeling. She felt naked as she stood there, wishing she could suck the words back in, waiting for his response.
She didn't have to wait long. Robert put his hand on her cheek and drew her in close. He brushed his lips over hers, softly at first, then more firmly. She was about to wrap her arms around him and deepen the kiss when he stepped back. "No," he said softly. "You deserve more. You don't deserve to be with somebody who's thinking about somebody else." He turned and hurried back to his car, as she stood frozen to that spot. He spoke quickly before climbing back into the Jag. "I won't make love to you until I know I can do it with my eyes open." With that, he hopped into the vehicle and was gone. Erin walked into her house on shaky legs, closing it firmly behind her.
The following months were an agonizing song and dance for Erin to endure. Most times, Robert acted as if that one kiss had never happened. He was his rude, arrogant, inconsiderate self the majority of the time, coolly professional the rest. As this behavior continued, Erin busied herself by talking herself out of her feelings. She spent her days reminding herself what a loathsome human being he could be, how no one in the hospital really liked him, how he could infuriate her at the drop of a hat. But there was always a tiny, nagging kernel of longing that would not go away. She watched Carter, her best friend, grope tentatively towards a romance with Abby, saw Susan dating and loving every minute of it, even saw Weaver slowly finding comfort in her now-public lesbian lifestyle. Men asked her out, and sometimes she went. But she always knew her heart was not in it.
And then the day came when the fax machine spit out the most devastating news she'd heard in a long time. Mark was dead; her friend, her mentor, the man who kept her head in the game when she wasn't sure she could cut it in emergency medicine, was gone. She stumbled numbly through the day, finding brief moments of comfort in John's embrace, or sharing tears with Susan. Finally, she returned home and curled up on the couch with her golden retriever. She ignored the ringing of the phone, the buzzing of her pager. Finally, when the doorbell rang and the dog barked in excitement, she forced herself up. She shuffled to the door, wiping her eyes. She opened it to find Robert, standing on her porch in his starched shirt and tie, his suit coat slung over one arm. Suddenly, all the pain of his post-kiss rejection came welling up inside her. "What do you want?" She snapped.
"To see how you are,"he said quietly.
She scoffed angrily. "So now you care how I am."
"I've always cared." His voice still maddeningly soft, reasonable.
"Well, don't worry, Rocket," she spat. "I'm just fine."
He still refused to engage her hostility. "Can I come in?"
"Go home, Robert." She tried to close the door, but he blocked it and pushed his way past her.
"I'm coming in."
She whirled, a bit unsteadily, and followed him. Her fists were clenched in anger. "You arrogant bastard! Get out!" He faced her, still oblivious to her rage. "I said get out!" She snarled again. "You may get to call the shots at County, but this is my life. You don't just get to be a part of it whenever it suits you. I deserve better than that, Goddamnit!"
"You're right." His calm rational tone only enraged her more. She reached to grab his arm, meaning to drag him to the door. Instead, he caught her hands in his and pulled her into his embrace. She fought him, pounding his chest with her fists. He withstood the pummeling, waiting for her to tire. When she finally did, melting tearfully into his arms, he helped her to the sofa. There he held her as she cried, gently stroking her hair and rubbing her back. Erin gave in to the comfort her offered and poured out her grief.
When her sobs had finally run out, Robert rose and moved into the kitchen. He pulled a towel from the rack and ran it under the faucet. Then he filled a glass with water. He returned and handed her the cup before tenderly wiping her cheeks with the damp cloth. Erin drank deeply, and gave a shuddering sigh. Robert took her hand and guided her to her bedroom, where her turned down her bed in a manner almost parental. She figured that, since her hysteria was over, he was going to tuck her in and leave her to rest. So it came as a complete surprise when he slid his arms around her waist and covered her mouth with his. She gasped softly as he parted her lips with his tongue. As her shock wore off, and she began responding to the kiss, his hand found her breast. She arched into his touch, falling back onto the bed and pulling him down with her. He broke the kiss only long enough to pull her shirt over her head, and then his mouth was on hers once more. She clawed his shirt open, needing to feel his flesh against hers. She felt his hands between their bodies fumbling with his belt. And then his trousers were gone and his fingers were pushing her skirt up. He removed her panties in a whisper of silk, and then he was inside her. She clung to him as he buried his face in her neck. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to drift within the waves of comfort and pleasure he created between them.
When the passion had crested, they lay together in the dark; Erin's head pillowed on his chest, Robert's fingers dancing lightly up and down her spine. The silence that hung between them was surprisingly comfortable, and Erin found herself reluctant to break it. So it was Robert who spoke first, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Feel better?" Erin rose up slightly, reaching for the lamp on the bedside table. She pulled the chain, and they both squinted against the soft, rosy light. She looked down on his expressionless face, and swallowed hard.
"Is that why you did this?" She asked. "To make me feel better?"
"Well, my goal wasn't to make you feel worse," he responded. She didn't seem satisfied, so he spoke again. "Of course I wanted you to feel better."
"Is that the only reason?" Despite her best effort, her voce was small and timid. Robert was a bit dismayed to find himself deeply affected by her vulnerability. He shifted beneath her, searching for an appropriate answer. Finally, he sighed heavily.
"Look, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Understand?" She nodded, so he reluctantly continued. "I really suck at the touchy-feely stuff. I know you feel like you're entitled to it." He paused to take a breath then added hastily, "And you are. You really are. Doesn't change the fact that I'm not good at it."
"And you don't do things that you aren't good at, do you?" Her tone was sad, and Robert reassured her the only way he knew how. He pulled her in and kissed her once more, not with hunger or passion, but with a warm and tender sweetness. When he released her, her forced the words out in a quick, almost painless torrent: "I could be falling in love with you." He wanted to say more; his mind screamed at him to qualify such a statement. But he knew he couldn't bear to see her face twist and break upon hearing such things, so he forced himself to remain silent.
Erin sensed the struggle that was raging inside him, and found it was not difficult to accept what little he could give. "Well, at least I know that we're in the same boat." She noticed his sudden change in demeanor, how his ego seemed to perk up upon hearing such a thing. She lay her head back on his chest and felt his arms encircle her once more. Silence fell between them once again.
When Robert realized she had no intention of telling him anything else, he posed a simple question: "Is that your way of saying you're falling in love with me?"
She didn't answer, only sighed deeply and snuggled tighter against him.
"Good night, Robert," she yawned.
"Oh, well aren't you the clever one?" She giggled at the restrained annoyance in his voice, but refused to say more. Finally, exhausted and a bit bewildered, they both slipped quietly into sleep.
But not this one. In addition to fighting the hospital computer in order to collect serology reports and nearly going blind searching the print for findings to support her thesis, she had worked a ten-hour shift in the ER. She was closing up her locker and fishing her car keys from her purse when Romano appeared in the lounge. "I hope you don't think you're going anywhere."
She looked at him incredulously. "I'm going home," she said firmly.
"I think not, my good doctor. We have a hundred and sixty pages of data to correlate. Slides to evaluate, notes to take, outlines to complete." He smirked evilly. "No rest for the wicked, my dear."
She ran her fingers through her hair. "Dr. Romano, I really think I'd be more effective if I just picked it all up on Sunday."
"Sunday? What do you mean Sunday? That's, like, thirty-six hours away." Erin's brow furrowed. "Tomorrow's the first day off I've had in a month."
"Well, one more week won't kill you."
His smug tone and self-satisfied grin made her blood boil, and she finally snapped. She planted her hands on her hips and looked him dead in the eye. "It is eight o'clock on a Friday night. I have been in this building for fifteen hours straight. I have been bitten, puked on, and some drunken frat guy grabbed my ass twice. I haven't eaten since nine this morning, and I miss my dog, who has probably shredded every inch of toilet paper in my house." She took a deep breath and spoke slowly and deliberately. "I am going home." She squared her shoulders and waited for his tirade.
He stood silent for a moment, and then spoke as casually as if she had asked him the time. "Okay, so we work at your place tonight. Can you make dinner for both of us, or should I bring my own?" Her expression twisted into one of incredulity and impatience. "Okay, so I'll bring dinner for both of us. I hope you like Kung Pao. See you in an hour." He pulled open the door, then stopped suddenly. "Oh, and try not to hold it against the frat guy. After all, it is a rather exquisite ass." He was gone before the exasperated gasp left her lips. A bit rattled, she shouldered her bag and headed out to her car.
An hour later, to the minute, there was a knock at her door. Erin realized she was surprised, that she hadn't actually believed he would show up. But there he was on her front porch, holding a brown paper bag. She opened the door and was greeted with the wonderful aroma wafting from the food. "I am assuming you have all the necessary paperwork. I'd like to hammer quite a bit out tonight," he spoke brusquely. Erin looked at him condescendingly as she pushed open the door for him to step inside. "Welcome to my home, Dr. Romano, won't you come inside?" she deadpanned. He moved past her, glancing around. The tiny house reflected her personality, and he couldn't help but feel amused. He reached the kitchen and placed the food on the table. He could hear music coming from the stereo and frowned. "Where's the TV?" Erin gestured to the living room. "I like to eat with the TV on."
Before she could stop herself, the words just tumbled out: "Then go home and turn it on."
Robert grinned at her sharp response. "You are a feisty one," he chuckled. She chose not to comment; instead she took her seat and reached for the food. The silence hung palpably between them as they ate, neither of the certain where to look or what to say. Relieved when they were finished and able to move on to work, Erin thanked him for dinner. He demurred briefly, and they began sifting through the stacks of reports scattered around the living room. They had been working for a couple hours when she grasped her neck with the hands and groaned softly. Robert glanced over at her. "Stiff neck?" He asked casually. Erin nodded. "You know, it's because your posture sucks." He stood and moved behind her, laying his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened beneath his touch, and he spoke sharply. "Relax." She did, behaving more in response to his order than out of reassurance. Robert began to manipulate her head from side to side in long, deep, circular movements. Soon she was lost in the feeling of the tension melting away. She was almost disappointed when he stopped. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"Welcome," he arched his own back and checked his watch. "Well, I guess that's enough for tonight." He headed for the door. She rose to her feet to follow him. "What time should I be in tomorrow?" she asked as he pulled her front door open.
"Tomorrow's your day off, Miss Windsor" he spoke curtly. "Enjoy it. There won't be another for a while." He chirped his car alarm, and Erin called out to him suddenly.
"Dr. Romano?"
He paused before climbing into the driver's seat, looking at her expectantly.
"Don't call me that. It sounds so patronizing."
"I guess you'd prefer DR. Windsor." His words were snide, but his tone had a gentle edge.
"Erin would be fine."
The two stood looking at each other, and suddenly, Erin realized something odd was happening. Something seemed to pass between them, a feeling she couldn't quite identify. She tried to glean whether he felt it, too, but his expression remained unchanged. "Good night, Erin," he said, and then slid into the car. He drove away quickly, leaving her to wonder.
Eventually, the paper was finished. It was published and received quite a bit of acclaim. Erin returned to her regular schedule, and was surprised to find herself affected by the reduction in time spent with Dr. Romano. They still crossed paths at work; he still kept her dancing, one minute an insufferable ass, one minute the consummate professional. And every once in a while, Erin would sense that spark of almost-friendship, and would wonder if he ever gave her any thought.
She got her answer one afternoon when she found herself alone in the elevator with him. "Dr. Windsor, may I speak to you about something of a personal nature?" She nodded, her expression soft as she realized he was genuinely flustered. "As you and Dr. Corday are quite close, I assume you've been invited to her wedding."
"I'm her maid of honor, actually."
Robert nodded himself. "I see. And since you and Dr. Corday are quite close, I assume you and she have spoken about her relationship with me."
Erin gulped a bit, unsure how to answer. "Well, not really. But."
"But what?"
Erin bit her lower lip. "I.well, she. I mean, it's a little obvious."
"Good God, spit it out!"
She chose her words carefully. "I know you are very fond of her."
She could tell by Robert's expression that he believed she knew it was much more that that, but he seemed grateful for her discretion. He continued. "Well, I've been invited as well, and as you can probably guess, I'd rather not go alone." He fell silent, and his demeanor betrayed that he was quite nervous. It dawned on Erin exactly what was happening, and she could not hold back just a bit of teasing. "Why, Dr. Romano, are you asking me on a date?"
He winced. "Let's think of it as more of a business function."
She giggled a little. "You're asking me to be your date."
"Don't act so cocky! It's not like you're the only woman I could go with!" He spoke hotly. Erin laughed again, realizing there was no way he could insult her, not when she knew how flustered he was.
"Well, good. Go ask one of them"
"Oh, come on now. I would think you'd want to make Lizzie's special day as comfortable as possible. God knows the last thing a pregnant bride wants is to make small talk with a stranger their boss brought to their reception."
Erin giggled again. "Okay, okay. I'll go with you."
"Thank you."
"As soon as you admit that you're asking me on a date." She smiled sweetly.
"Erin." he growled.
"All right, all right, all right. But I have to be at the church an hour early." The elevator doors opened on the ER. And she stepped out. He jabbed the "door close" button, eager to escape her gaze. Erin returned to work, anxious to tell Elizabeth what transpired.
The day of the wedding arrived, and Robert stood waiting outside the lounge. He was dressed sharply in an Armani suit, pacing and checking his watch. "Is it genetically impossible for women to be on time?"
"Oh, shut up," Erin's voice turned his head, and his breath caught in his throat a bit. Her auburn hair was piled on top of her head, baring her angular neck. Her dress was cornflower blue silk and clung to every curve of her body. The slit on the side revealed a long, flawless leg, and her open-toed sandal confirmed that leg was bare. "You look amazing," he said simply. Erin was a tad thrown but his simple and sincere compliment. "Thank you," she smiled. "You're looking quite dashing yourself."
"Speaking of dashing," he tapped his watch.
"I know, I know," she said. "Jerry, don't forget to page psych when Mr. Simm's films are back. And make sure Malik gives the lady in curtain two ten of Adavan" Robert slipped an arm around her waist and physically moved her out the door. His car was parked in the ambulance bay, and he opened the door for her to slide in. He climbed in beside her and gunned the engine. He eased the Jaguar onto the street and rounded the corner. As they drove, Erin pulled down the visor and opened the vanity mirror. Then she pulled a tube form her purse, and began to paint her lips a rich pink. Robert couldn't help but watch her, and he suddenly realized the image was eliciting quite a reaction below his waist. He cast his eyes down, only to have his gaze fall on her legs. They were crossed, left over right, and the slit of her dress revealed the left all the way up to mid- thigh. He could see the defined line of muscle beneath the softly tanned skin, and the activity in his groin kicked into a higher gear. Leaning over to change the radio station, he shifted nonchalantly in his seat. Erin did not seem to notice, and he breathed silent thanks for that.
Once at the church, Robert accompanied her to the bride's room. Erin watched him as he spoke to Elizabeth, and her heart broke for him a little. She made a mental note to try and keep his spirits up, wondering briefly why it seemed so important. Her eyes found his a couple of times during the ceremony, and he always dropped her small wink, as if to say, "Don't worry about me, kid." When they all retired to the reception, she took her place at his side, scoffing at Carter and Malucci as they teased her about being "Rocket's" date. They sat at their table mostly, not talking too much, Robert trying not to stare too much at Mark and Elizabeth. At one point, he caught himself, and turned apologetically to Erin. "Look at me. I'm a guest at a wedding, the most gorgeous woman in the room is my date, and I sit pining after the bride."
Erin touched his hand gently. "It's okay."
Robert suddenly belted back his glass of champagne and dropped his napkin on the table. He rose to his feet and offered her his hand. "No, it isn't. Will you dance with me?"
Wordlessly, Erin slipped her hand into his, and he led her to the dance floor. He put his arm around her, resting his hand against the small of her back. The deep v-cut of her gown allowed his skin to make contact with hers, and she shivered a bit. She put her arm around his shoulders, and he began to move her gracefully across the floor.
"Now I know why you really asked me to come with you," she said. His expression was inquisitive, and a devilish gleam lit her eyes.
"I'm the only woman you could find shorter than you."
He laughed heartily. "Yeah, you are pretty tiny." A silence fell between them that was not entirely uncomfortable, and Erin allowed him to pull her body a bit closer to his. He rested his chin in the hollow between her shoulder and her neck, seeking only innocent comfort. At that moment, Erin realized two things that truly dismayed her. The first was exactly how hard Robert had fallen for Elizabeth. The second, and more alarming of the two, was exactly how much it bothered her.
"Oh, my God," she thought to herself. "I'm jealous."
She lay her cheek on his shoulder, trying to ignore the rapid beating of her heart.
The evening wound down quickly, and the two soon found themselves alone in his car outside her front door. "Well, thank you for making a horrible evening much easier to stomach," he said flatly, gently squeezing her hand. He face softened in sympathy. "Robert, I'm sorry."
"Hey, no sweat, gorgeous. Don't give it another thought." She reached for the handle, but he stopped her. "A lady in a dress like that deserves to be walked to her door." He stepped from the car and walked around to open her door. He took her hand and helped her out, then placed his hand on the small of her back as he escorted her up her front steps. She unlocked the door and opened it slowly. "Do you want to come in for some coffee?" Coffee?! Come in for some coffee?! Her mind screamed at her. What the hell are you thinking?! Her eyes locked with his, and she knew he could tell exactly what she was thinking and feeling. She felt naked as she stood there, wishing she could suck the words back in, waiting for his response.
She didn't have to wait long. Robert put his hand on her cheek and drew her in close. He brushed his lips over hers, softly at first, then more firmly. She was about to wrap her arms around him and deepen the kiss when he stepped back. "No," he said softly. "You deserve more. You don't deserve to be with somebody who's thinking about somebody else." He turned and hurried back to his car, as she stood frozen to that spot. He spoke quickly before climbing back into the Jag. "I won't make love to you until I know I can do it with my eyes open." With that, he hopped into the vehicle and was gone. Erin walked into her house on shaky legs, closing it firmly behind her.
The following months were an agonizing song and dance for Erin to endure. Most times, Robert acted as if that one kiss had never happened. He was his rude, arrogant, inconsiderate self the majority of the time, coolly professional the rest. As this behavior continued, Erin busied herself by talking herself out of her feelings. She spent her days reminding herself what a loathsome human being he could be, how no one in the hospital really liked him, how he could infuriate her at the drop of a hat. But there was always a tiny, nagging kernel of longing that would not go away. She watched Carter, her best friend, grope tentatively towards a romance with Abby, saw Susan dating and loving every minute of it, even saw Weaver slowly finding comfort in her now-public lesbian lifestyle. Men asked her out, and sometimes she went. But she always knew her heart was not in it.
And then the day came when the fax machine spit out the most devastating news she'd heard in a long time. Mark was dead; her friend, her mentor, the man who kept her head in the game when she wasn't sure she could cut it in emergency medicine, was gone. She stumbled numbly through the day, finding brief moments of comfort in John's embrace, or sharing tears with Susan. Finally, she returned home and curled up on the couch with her golden retriever. She ignored the ringing of the phone, the buzzing of her pager. Finally, when the doorbell rang and the dog barked in excitement, she forced herself up. She shuffled to the door, wiping her eyes. She opened it to find Robert, standing on her porch in his starched shirt and tie, his suit coat slung over one arm. Suddenly, all the pain of his post-kiss rejection came welling up inside her. "What do you want?" She snapped.
"To see how you are,"he said quietly.
She scoffed angrily. "So now you care how I am."
"I've always cared." His voice still maddeningly soft, reasonable.
"Well, don't worry, Rocket," she spat. "I'm just fine."
He still refused to engage her hostility. "Can I come in?"
"Go home, Robert." She tried to close the door, but he blocked it and pushed his way past her.
"I'm coming in."
She whirled, a bit unsteadily, and followed him. Her fists were clenched in anger. "You arrogant bastard! Get out!" He faced her, still oblivious to her rage. "I said get out!" She snarled again. "You may get to call the shots at County, but this is my life. You don't just get to be a part of it whenever it suits you. I deserve better than that, Goddamnit!"
"You're right." His calm rational tone only enraged her more. She reached to grab his arm, meaning to drag him to the door. Instead, he caught her hands in his and pulled her into his embrace. She fought him, pounding his chest with her fists. He withstood the pummeling, waiting for her to tire. When she finally did, melting tearfully into his arms, he helped her to the sofa. There he held her as she cried, gently stroking her hair and rubbing her back. Erin gave in to the comfort her offered and poured out her grief.
When her sobs had finally run out, Robert rose and moved into the kitchen. He pulled a towel from the rack and ran it under the faucet. Then he filled a glass with water. He returned and handed her the cup before tenderly wiping her cheeks with the damp cloth. Erin drank deeply, and gave a shuddering sigh. Robert took her hand and guided her to her bedroom, where her turned down her bed in a manner almost parental. She figured that, since her hysteria was over, he was going to tuck her in and leave her to rest. So it came as a complete surprise when he slid his arms around her waist and covered her mouth with his. She gasped softly as he parted her lips with his tongue. As her shock wore off, and she began responding to the kiss, his hand found her breast. She arched into his touch, falling back onto the bed and pulling him down with her. He broke the kiss only long enough to pull her shirt over her head, and then his mouth was on hers once more. She clawed his shirt open, needing to feel his flesh against hers. She felt his hands between their bodies fumbling with his belt. And then his trousers were gone and his fingers were pushing her skirt up. He removed her panties in a whisper of silk, and then he was inside her. She clung to him as he buried his face in her neck. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to drift within the waves of comfort and pleasure he created between them.
When the passion had crested, they lay together in the dark; Erin's head pillowed on his chest, Robert's fingers dancing lightly up and down her spine. The silence that hung between them was surprisingly comfortable, and Erin found herself reluctant to break it. So it was Robert who spoke first, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Feel better?" Erin rose up slightly, reaching for the lamp on the bedside table. She pulled the chain, and they both squinted against the soft, rosy light. She looked down on his expressionless face, and swallowed hard.
"Is that why you did this?" She asked. "To make me feel better?"
"Well, my goal wasn't to make you feel worse," he responded. She didn't seem satisfied, so he spoke again. "Of course I wanted you to feel better."
"Is that the only reason?" Despite her best effort, her voce was small and timid. Robert was a bit dismayed to find himself deeply affected by her vulnerability. He shifted beneath her, searching for an appropriate answer. Finally, he sighed heavily.
"Look, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Understand?" She nodded, so he reluctantly continued. "I really suck at the touchy-feely stuff. I know you feel like you're entitled to it." He paused to take a breath then added hastily, "And you are. You really are. Doesn't change the fact that I'm not good at it."
"And you don't do things that you aren't good at, do you?" Her tone was sad, and Robert reassured her the only way he knew how. He pulled her in and kissed her once more, not with hunger or passion, but with a warm and tender sweetness. When he released her, her forced the words out in a quick, almost painless torrent: "I could be falling in love with you." He wanted to say more; his mind screamed at him to qualify such a statement. But he knew he couldn't bear to see her face twist and break upon hearing such things, so he forced himself to remain silent.
Erin sensed the struggle that was raging inside him, and found it was not difficult to accept what little he could give. "Well, at least I know that we're in the same boat." She noticed his sudden change in demeanor, how his ego seemed to perk up upon hearing such a thing. She lay her head back on his chest and felt his arms encircle her once more. Silence fell between them once again.
When Robert realized she had no intention of telling him anything else, he posed a simple question: "Is that your way of saying you're falling in love with me?"
She didn't answer, only sighed deeply and snuggled tighter against him.
"Good night, Robert," she yawned.
"Oh, well aren't you the clever one?" She giggled at the restrained annoyance in his voice, but refused to say more. Finally, exhausted and a bit bewildered, they both slipped quietly into sleep.