A Friendly Hand
By Didi
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters. John Wells and his friends do. Let's not get into the debate as to who owns the ideas and all that; cause let's face it, you'll lose. Enjoy the story anyways.
Summary: The hospital staff continues to watch as Matt and Jules deal with the aftermath of some emotionally trying cases.
Note: This takes place within the context of my own plot line and after the events of the November 20th episode; it's the one with Christine Baranski guest staring. For those of you that didn't see the episode, don't worry. You won't be left behind.
Author's Note: Hooray, Presidio Med has been picked up by CBS for a full season. They will be back on the air in January. In the mean time, I can do with the plot lines as I like until the canons come back. Not that I haven't been messing with it a whole lot already. (hee-hee)
Rating: I know that I didn't do a rating before, always preferring to set my stories at PG-13 to be safe. And while I know that setting it at R is probably being overly cautious, I'm going to do so anyways.
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Chapter 9
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"Dr. Keating?" Nick asked as he stopped by the busy operation room. He hadn't heard about Dr. Keating's dilemma until late in the afternoon, by that time he had already been in too much trouble to help. "I'm sorry that I wasn't..."
"It's okay," she said, pulling the bloody gloves off her hands with a snap and tossing them into the trash before rubbing her eyes tiredly. "You had your own problems and everything worked out fine."
Dr. Kokoris sighed and leaned against the wall as he watched the exhausted Dr. Keating scrubbed her hands clean and dry. The young woman looked as if she's aged ten years in the past few hours. "How is she?"
"Resting," she replied, her eyes burning with unshed tears that she's been holding back all through the procedure. "She made it through surgery fine, but the scarring is going to... I'm going to have Jackie take a look at her in a few days to see what kind of damage control can be done." She glanced down at her hands, clean now but still feeling the sharp piece of metal against her fingertips as she extracted it from the little girl's belly.
"Are you all right?" Nick asked, watching her with concern.
She sniffled and shook her head. "We try everyday to protect the most innocent and good. And these people come in here and show me a man that fired a rifle in his house next to his little girl, causing massive damage both emotionally and physically to a ten year old. No, I don't think I'm okay."
Nick sighed and took her by the elbow, leading her away from the OR. "Dr. Keating, don't do this to yourself. You did a good job today."
"I should have seen this when she came in the first time."
"You didn't know," sitting her down on the bench in the hall. "You couldn't have known. We're not here everyday looking for bad people. It's human nature, especially for one such as you, to want to believe in the goodness of people."
Jules sighed, leaning her head back against the wall for a moment and stared at the fluorescent light above. Life should be simpler than this. "I just want to sleep tonight and not think about this any more."
"Then go home," offering her his hand and pulled her to her feet. "You deserve it."
"Jules," Rae called as she came up to them, her eyes full of concern to her obviously tired friend. "What happened?"
"Bad day," she replied with a quick smile. "I'm going to clean up and go home."
"Good idea," Rae said watching as Jules struggled to her feet slowly. "Jules, do you need any ..."
"No, no, I'm okay," Jules rolled her shoulders back and took a deep breath. Her body has some real rights to be complaining right about now, given the abuse she's been putting it through. "Frank!" she called as the day nurse was about to make his way out.
"Yes, Dr. Keating?" turning to face her with some reluctance.
"What happened with Alan?" she asked with concern. "Last time I heard, he'd pull the tubes out during dialysis."
Frank frowned for a moment, trying to recall the patient and the happenings. "Oh, the psycho kid!"
"Frank!" she reprimanded severely.
He winced at the sharpness in her voice. "He's down in the psych ward. Dr. Slingerland admitted the girlfriend after the kid went ape on her."
"Oh my god," Rae looked horrified as Jules stared. "Is she all right?"
"Yeah. Dr. Slingerland got to her in time."
Jules breathed a sigh of relief and tried to ignore the feeling of guilt at having dumped this whole mess on Matt's head. "Where's Dr. Slingerland now?"
"Psych ward." Frank replied, shuffling his feet toward the exit.
"Go, go," waving him off, Jules turned about and headed for the psych ward with more energy than she thought was possible.
Nick and Rae stared after her.
"I thought she was getting ready to go home?" Nick asked with amusement.
"Apparently not," Rae shook her head and hoped her friend knew what she was getting herself into.
Nick shook his head, not the least bit surprise at what love can make a person do. Such as fly across an ocean and a continent with no sure fate as to whether his heart would come out in tact. But then again, life was a gamble on in itself. "You had dinner yet?"
She turned and shook her head at him. "Go away, Nick."
"Just a question," he grinned back at him. "I'll be available for the next two weeks if you have nothing to do."
"I heard you got suspended," she replied, with a roll of her eyes.
"I saved a life, that's what important," or so he keeps rationalizing it himself, especially after the scolding from Dr. Jordan. She and his sister would get alone fabulously. Both have this amazing ability to reduce him down to three again.
"Go home, Nick," Rae advised, turning toward the exit.
"Why don't you come with me?" he asked, walking alongside her just to see what she'd do even knowing the answer.
"Nick," warning him.
"You can't avoid me forever," he replied quietly. "I'll be waiting." Then took himself off in the opposite direction.
"Don't hold your breath," muttering under her breath and wondering what she was doing to herself. All she wanted to do now was go home to her husband and take a nice long hot shower. Then maybe work on getting her marriage back on track and forget the gorgeous doctor what seemed to want to give her the world. She gave a silent laugh of amusement, "And I was worried about Jules?"
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She slowed as she came near the bench that held a very dejected Dr. Slingerland, staring off into nothing. The exhaustion was palpable even from the distance of the hall. It was as if someone stole something bright in him. "Hey you."
Slingerland turned and blinked at her for a moment, recognition slow in coming. Then as if someone had turned on a ray of hope, he brightened and smiled. "Hello," then glanced down at his watch. "What are you still doing here?"
"Taking care of a very special little girl," she replied, sitting down next to him with a sigh. It wasn't just physical exhaustion any more; it was everything else in life. "I heard about Alan."
He nodded his head, taking her offer of sympathy. "And I heard about Dorothy Ann. How is she?"
"She'll live," Jules replied, surprised that with all that was happening on his schedule he had managed to keep an ear to the ground about hers. "I'm going to have Jackie try to remove that scar. I don't want her to have to remember what her dad did every time she takes a shower."
"Yeah, not exactly that most cheery thing to remember about your childhood," he replied, tilting his shoulder to let her rest her head against it. "DCFS step in?"
"Police took the dad in custody and social services got emergency control over Dorothy. The mother..." Jules swallowed. "She'll end up losing the other two as well."
"It's to protect them," he said quietly. "You can only protect them from others," he turned his head slightly to look through the glass at the retrained young man that laid so peacefully now in bed. "But there is so much you can't protect them from."
She followed his eyes to her former patient. "I heard about the girlfriend."
"Beth," he informed her with a smile. "Short for Bethlehem." He shook his head and stared ahead once more. "She loves him. Don't blame him one bit for what happened. The girl nearly died from a beating that would have killed a lesser gal. And Alan... he doesn't even remember."
Taking his hand, Jules linked her fingers with his giving him a reassuring squeeze. "You did what you could. Alan is... he's not a child that you can just scold." She turned to look at him, see the pain in his eyes at not having acted sooner or more for the young man. "You protected Beth the best you could. I know you did. And you got to her in time to save her life, that's what counts, saving lives."
Slingerland nodded, understanding what she was saying and accepting it in his mind if not in his heart. He was tired, bone tired and heartsick; but not to the point that he didn't notice the fact that she looked about as bad as he felt. "Go home, Jules. You look ready to drop any second."
Keating smiled, "I could say the same of you."
He looked back at Alan for a moment. "I think I'll stay here for a bit."
Getting up, she squeezed his hand one more time before letting go. "Matt, he is where he needs to be. Don't beat yourself up over something you had no control over. You did good."
Smiling up at her, "You should take your own advice. You saved that little girl and got the other children the protection they needed. Don't doubt yourself."
She wondered if she did enough in time. The damage, emotional ones, have already been inflicted and would be the hardest to heal. But there was nothing more she could do, or offer, for those children. Nodding, she turned to leave.
Matt sat there watching her drooped shoulder and slow walk. People like Jules Keating shouldn't have to suffer through the ugliness of life. They should be allowed to wear rose color glasses and believe in fairy tales. "Jules?"
She turned. "Yeah?"
He got up and reached out a hand. "You want to go get some ice cream?"
Jules smiled before taking the offered hand. "Only if we can get dinner first."
"Deal."
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"Next time, I'll get dinner and you get desert," Jules said as she pushed the door open with a mighty shove. "And I didn't do all the bolts this time."
"Thank god for some small miracles, it's freezing out here," pushing her through the door before him. "Good grief, the temperature seem to drop another few degrees every time I turn around." Rubbing his arms through the sleeves of his coat vigorously.
"You're from England, for god sakes. Isn't it like always raining there?" Checking the thermostat.
"You Americans either watch too many movies about England or you think all of England is like London." He pulled the scarf from around his neck and dropped it carelessly over the back of her sofa along with his gloves and coat. "I happened to have grew up in a nice part of England where it is neither so unbearably cold nor suffocating humid." With a sigh, he dropped his tired self down on the couch. "Mother was right, I should have gone to LA."
"But then you won't have met little ole me!" she said, leaning over the back of the couch to grin at him.
Tilting his head back, he smiled at her. "True." Looking around the cozy little apartment, "Aren't you going to offer me your mother's wonderful coffee?"
"A grateful guest I see," tapping him lightly on the top of his head before swinging about to turn to the kitchen. "Pop in a sappy happy movie, will you? I want to feel good again."
"What? Dinner with yours truly didn't do the trick for you, luv?" getting up to looked at the collection of DVD's that were neatly lined up on the low left just under the missive flat screen on the wall. Glancing upward and about, he let out a low whistle of appreciation. "And here I thought only us men have a fine taste for surround sound home entertainment systems."
"You can lay the blame on that one directly on my brother Jeff's head. He always said that nothing is worth having if it's not the finest you can afford. Being a chemical engineer, he can afford quite a lot," she laughed as she watched the coffee maker drip droplets of heavenly nectar. "I'm making this doubly strong."
"You still have some popcorn left from the other night?" he asked, fingering several highly romantic comedy films that he knew would bring a smile to her face. But to be completely honest, he didn't particularly want to watch people falling heavily in love, especially given the pathetic state in which his own life has been of late.
"Yeah. Extra butter?" she called back from the kitchen as she looked through her shelves. Hardly anyone ever allows her to put extra butter on the popcorn, most complained that it's either too sweet, too greasy or it would go straight to their thighs.
"How can you have popcorn without extra butter?" Matt asked bemused as he pulled 'The Fifth Element' and 'The Thin Man' from the shelf. Holding the two up for Jules to see, he asked, "Sci Fi or classic black and white?"
Peering at him from behind the breakfast counter, she frowned. "Oh, tough call."
"Flip a coin," he said, inhaling a lungful of caffeine. "Oh, that smells delicious."
"Sugar only right? Two spoonfuls?" she asked instinctively even knowing the answer already as she stirred the sugar into his cup and cream only into her own. She turned to look at the popcorn currently making a racket in the microwave.
Slingerland grinned as he watched her, marveling at the fact that she knew how he took his coffee. Most of the women he ever dated didn't even remember his last name, simply referring to him as 'doc.' It was nice having someone around that knew him to a degree. "I'll take Sci Fi and you take Classic." Pulling a coin out, "Call it."
"Heads," she replied as the shiny quarter flipped through the air.
"Heads have it," putting 'The Fifth Element' back to its location on the neatly alphabetized order. "Ever wondered why they decided that the perfect being in the universe should be a woman?"
"Matt, you're so asking the wrong person here," coming around the corner with a tray. "You want chocolate?"
"What do you have?" slipping the DVD into the player.
"M&M's and some..." she glanced into the cookie jar on the dining room table. "I'm not sure what this is so let's just stick with M&M's shall we?"
He laughed, feeling better by the minute. He could almost push back the sense of guilt over the whole Alan thing... almost. "Halloween leftovers?"
"Yes," she shook her head as she put the tray down and opened up the packet of M&M's to pour into the small candy dish on the glass coffee table. "Every year I tell myself not to buy so much candy cause I usually end up with enough to last me through to Christmas. But I don't ever seem to remember when the next year rolls around."
"I never have that problem," taking a sip of the scolding hot coffee and sighing with content as the heat slowly made its way down to his toes.
"How?"
"I work Halloween nights," he replied with a grin. "But I always leave a large bucket of candy in front of my door so that children may get it themselves. I have never come home to leftover candies before."
"Hum..." she wrinkled her nose as she flipped through the front menu section. "I'll have to remember that. Oh... did I tell you? I saw Billy this morning."
"Follow up appointment?" he asked, putting popcorn into his mouth and leaning back to enjoy the movie, not once wondering how he ended up in Dr. Keating's apartment on a Wednesday evening watching old movies and enjoying her charming company.
"Yes," she replied, sitting back with the bowl of popcorn between the two of them and the coffee mugs within easy reach. "Debra may not be the most attentive mother, but Billy sure is one happy healthy child. Well, except for the gall bladder thing."
"Did you ever find out why he had a failed gall bladder at such a young age?" he asked as Myrna Loy appeared on the screen, funny hat, fur coat and all being dragged by her dog through a gin joint. "I love this movie."
"Who wouldn't love Loy and Powell?" she asked chewing on the popcorn, savoring the taste of hot melted butter on her tongue. "And no, looks like he's probably just got a weak gall bladder that was abused by the massive amounts of junk food he is fed."
"Well, Debra may not win the mother of the year award but at least we know that Billy is taken care of," he chuckled softly as he watched the interplay between Powell and Loy. "How many of these movies did they make?"
"Six I think," she replied, laughing as she admired Loy's abilities to carry off a comical look without being the least bit conscious. She only wish she was nearly as graceful. "Yeah, I guess I'll give Debra credit for at least making sure her kid is in good health."
"By the way, did I tell you that I think Debra may have finally taken the bait?" he asked reaching into the bowl absentmindedly. "Six Thin Man movies?"
"Really?" choking on an un-popped kernel. "How did that miracle come about?"
"Don't know," shrugging his shoulders gently, eyes glued to the television set. "It may have something to do with your saving her son's life."
Jules laughed gently at the Christmas party scene as all the guests drank themselves into a stupor, "I guess." Shifting in the seat to find a more comfortable position. "And yeah, Loy and Powell did a total of six in the Nick and Nora Charles series, and a few more others together. They always did great chemistry. Oh man, you think people so do those kinds of parties any more?"
"If we were in England yes," he answered, swinging one arm back to drape around Jules's shoulders, bring her and the popcorn bowl closer. "You wouldn't believe the amount of alcohol consumed in my country. It is the stuff of AA's nightmares."
For a moment, she wasn't sure how to react to his causal touch. But seeing that he was more interested in the movie than anything else, she ignored the slight flutter in her stomach and chalked it up to an unconscious friendly gesture. "Yet we don't hear about alcohol abuse as prominently as we do here in the states."
Slingerland snorted his amusement, "You American are a little too obsessed with other people's business. World around you would go a lot smoother if you paid less attention to others and more attention to your own lives."
"Right, that's why Princess Diana was killed trying to get away from reporters that couldn't care a fig about her life." She tilted her head to look at him with a grin.
Nodding his head, he conceded defeat. "Point taken."
Laughing, she pushed him gently with her shoulder. She leaned her head on his shoulders as they fell into comfortable silence, watching a classic detective film that features two of the most brilliant comedic stars in the 40's at their best. "You can see that Nora loved Nick a lot."
"You mean besides that fact that she teases and insults him in turn," he grinned. "Yeah, they had something there that is so incredibly rare in this day and age."
"Unconditional love?" she asked with sappy happy smile as Nora grabbed Nick in a panic as he was about to go out the door. "I use to watch these movies and pretend that it's me in there, finding or having the love of my life. Silly, heh?"
"Movies are suppose to take you away from realities, that's what they are there for." He replied quietly, eyes still on the television but mind no longer in it. "They help you forget." But forgetting isn't something that comes easily.
Jules nodded her head soberly; no longer as interested in the movie as she had been only minutes before. "Is that what we're doing? Trying to forget?"
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. It would be nice to simply agree with her, at least to make her feel better. But lying to her was not something he was willing to do, even if it was to protect her. "No, just trying to live with it."
She was quiet for a moment, snuggling into the crook of his arm. "What do you think will happen to Alan?"
Slingerland wondered that all evening himself. "Psych will do their evaluation tomorrow and start treatment for him. From everything Beth tells me, Alan was a good kid once. Maybe with the proper help..." How much of the kid's life will be stolen from him until he is helped was another question.
"And the girlfriend?"
"Who, Beth?" He shook his head. "She's going to stay by his side until he gets out. Vowed it in fact." Another young life wasted. "She was going to go to LA and become an artist. Performing arts, of course."
"Of course," she replied with a weak smile.
"I'm glad that you turned Alan's case over to me."
"Are you?" Jules asked softly.
"Yeah," he nodded sincerely. "I would hate it if you had to deal with Alan's problem."
Finding it awfully sweet of him, "Well, to be honest, I think I would have gladly traded Alan's problem for Dorothy Ann's."
Matt acknowledged that with a nod, eyes watching the television but not seeing it any more. "What do you think is going to happen to that little girl?"
Jules shook her head, feeling the tightness in her chest again. She could still see the metal shard and feel it in her gloved hand as she extracted it from the torn muscle at the girl's side. "If she's lucky, she won't remember much of what happened. The antibiotics and painkillers should help to ease some of the memory. If she's not, Dorothy Ann will remember that her father tried to kill her with a shotgun."
Pulling her against him a little tighter, he wished he could remove the trace of bitter pain in her voice. "She's safe now."
"She's in a hospital alone with enough stitches on her side to make a Goth queen proud. And when she gets out, she'll go into a foster home. If she goes into a good home, she may come out merely bitter and in need of some counseling. If she doesn't..." she shuddered just remembering some of the horror stories that came out of bad foster homes. "Dorothy Ann is never going to be a little girl anymore."
There was nothing he could say to that, nothing to change that reality for her. "We do what we can."
"But it's not enough," she replied, her eyes tearing up. "It's not nearly enough."
"No," he said softly with a great deal of weight in his heart. "It's not."
They sat there in silence, watching as Nick and Nora invited all the suspects of the murder to a nice dinner party, complete with a police escort. As the scene played out, neither Slingerland nor Keating said a word.
Matt felt pained at having not been able to allow Jules some peace, even for one night. Jules felt awful at having brought up the whole ugly subject again, even after promising not to speak of it during dinner. But it is something either one can ignore. They are who they are, and their patients affected their lives, good and bad.
"Matt?"
"Yeah?"
"You going to stay the night?" she asked tentatively. She knew what Harriet thought of it, she has a pretty good idea what the rest of the staff will say about it, but she didn't care at the moment. Besides, she was a grown woman. She can do as she liked.
For a moment, he thought about cracking a joke. But the mood of the evening had turned heavy. "May I?"
"Yeah," she nodded her head, gently bumping his chin with the top of her head.
"Then I'll stay," he replied, leaning his head down to drop a kiss on her head, glad that he could. He didn't really want to face a cold empty apartment tonight.
She tilted her head up to thank for, not wanting to be alone tonight, just as his head descended.
Instead of the chaste friendly kiss on the head, as Matt intended, or the grateful thank you that Jules had been about to bestow, their lips met. Both too startled by the unexpected event to move, the kiss lingered.
Slingerland finally jerked his head back. "I..." She stared at him for a moment before touching his lips with her fingertips, silencing him. Then considering it, she lifted herself up and pressed her lips against his again.
For a moment, Matt allowed himself to enjoy the feel of a woman against his body. She tasted sweet like candy and smelled incredibly good. Then remembering whom this was and what their relationship was, he pulled back, pressing himself into the sofa. "This is not a good idea."
"Why?" she asked, shifting her position on the couch so that her body was now facing his.
"Because you and I are... are... We're friends and..." he never got to finish as Jules pressed her open mouth against his, tasting the sugar from the coffee he had earlier and the salty taste of the melted butter from the popcorn. Surprisingly enough, it didn't both her one bit.
A kiss, in Slingerland's mind, was one of the most intimate acts in a liaison. It begins and relates to things that are beautiful and good about relationships. Which is one of the reasons that he so enjoyed kissing. And Jules Keating, innocent lamb that she is, was one hell of a kisser. Lying there with her pressed up tight against him, he was so tempted to just give into the incredible pleasures that he already getting a taste of.
No, no, no. He couldn't let himself do this. She was a good friend, one of the best things that's come into his life in a long while. He was not going to screw this up for a... a fling. Besides, men don't have flings with girls like Jules. She was the marrying type, not the roll-in-the-hay type. Grabbing her by the upper arms, he pushed her back. "Jules..." And then he looked into her eyes.
Gray-green eyes were wide with need, pain and a good dash of misery added to the mix. And worse of all, they were pleading with him to understand. "Please," she whispered softly as her hand came to rest over his on her arms.
Death, pain, suffering... all the elements were converging on her. And like soldier after the field of battle, she was looking for a reaffirmation of life. How can he deny her that?
"No regrets in the morning, okay?" he hoped more than asked as his hands loosened their hold.
She nodded, her head already lowering to his again. And in the next kiss, she obliterated the lines of their friendship forever.
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I was going to give a little more description but decided that you can all use your imagination on this one. But I would love know what you think of the story so far.
By Didi
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters. John Wells and his friends do. Let's not get into the debate as to who owns the ideas and all that; cause let's face it, you'll lose. Enjoy the story anyways.
Summary: The hospital staff continues to watch as Matt and Jules deal with the aftermath of some emotionally trying cases.
Note: This takes place within the context of my own plot line and after the events of the November 20th episode; it's the one with Christine Baranski guest staring. For those of you that didn't see the episode, don't worry. You won't be left behind.
Author's Note: Hooray, Presidio Med has been picked up by CBS for a full season. They will be back on the air in January. In the mean time, I can do with the plot lines as I like until the canons come back. Not that I haven't been messing with it a whole lot already. (hee-hee)
Rating: I know that I didn't do a rating before, always preferring to set my stories at PG-13 to be safe. And while I know that setting it at R is probably being overly cautious, I'm going to do so anyways.
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Chapter 9
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"Dr. Keating?" Nick asked as he stopped by the busy operation room. He hadn't heard about Dr. Keating's dilemma until late in the afternoon, by that time he had already been in too much trouble to help. "I'm sorry that I wasn't..."
"It's okay," she said, pulling the bloody gloves off her hands with a snap and tossing them into the trash before rubbing her eyes tiredly. "You had your own problems and everything worked out fine."
Dr. Kokoris sighed and leaned against the wall as he watched the exhausted Dr. Keating scrubbed her hands clean and dry. The young woman looked as if she's aged ten years in the past few hours. "How is she?"
"Resting," she replied, her eyes burning with unshed tears that she's been holding back all through the procedure. "She made it through surgery fine, but the scarring is going to... I'm going to have Jackie take a look at her in a few days to see what kind of damage control can be done." She glanced down at her hands, clean now but still feeling the sharp piece of metal against her fingertips as she extracted it from the little girl's belly.
"Are you all right?" Nick asked, watching her with concern.
She sniffled and shook her head. "We try everyday to protect the most innocent and good. And these people come in here and show me a man that fired a rifle in his house next to his little girl, causing massive damage both emotionally and physically to a ten year old. No, I don't think I'm okay."
Nick sighed and took her by the elbow, leading her away from the OR. "Dr. Keating, don't do this to yourself. You did a good job today."
"I should have seen this when she came in the first time."
"You didn't know," sitting her down on the bench in the hall. "You couldn't have known. We're not here everyday looking for bad people. It's human nature, especially for one such as you, to want to believe in the goodness of people."
Jules sighed, leaning her head back against the wall for a moment and stared at the fluorescent light above. Life should be simpler than this. "I just want to sleep tonight and not think about this any more."
"Then go home," offering her his hand and pulled her to her feet. "You deserve it."
"Jules," Rae called as she came up to them, her eyes full of concern to her obviously tired friend. "What happened?"
"Bad day," she replied with a quick smile. "I'm going to clean up and go home."
"Good idea," Rae said watching as Jules struggled to her feet slowly. "Jules, do you need any ..."
"No, no, I'm okay," Jules rolled her shoulders back and took a deep breath. Her body has some real rights to be complaining right about now, given the abuse she's been putting it through. "Frank!" she called as the day nurse was about to make his way out.
"Yes, Dr. Keating?" turning to face her with some reluctance.
"What happened with Alan?" she asked with concern. "Last time I heard, he'd pull the tubes out during dialysis."
Frank frowned for a moment, trying to recall the patient and the happenings. "Oh, the psycho kid!"
"Frank!" she reprimanded severely.
He winced at the sharpness in her voice. "He's down in the psych ward. Dr. Slingerland admitted the girlfriend after the kid went ape on her."
"Oh my god," Rae looked horrified as Jules stared. "Is she all right?"
"Yeah. Dr. Slingerland got to her in time."
Jules breathed a sigh of relief and tried to ignore the feeling of guilt at having dumped this whole mess on Matt's head. "Where's Dr. Slingerland now?"
"Psych ward." Frank replied, shuffling his feet toward the exit.
"Go, go," waving him off, Jules turned about and headed for the psych ward with more energy than she thought was possible.
Nick and Rae stared after her.
"I thought she was getting ready to go home?" Nick asked with amusement.
"Apparently not," Rae shook her head and hoped her friend knew what she was getting herself into.
Nick shook his head, not the least bit surprise at what love can make a person do. Such as fly across an ocean and a continent with no sure fate as to whether his heart would come out in tact. But then again, life was a gamble on in itself. "You had dinner yet?"
She turned and shook her head at him. "Go away, Nick."
"Just a question," he grinned back at him. "I'll be available for the next two weeks if you have nothing to do."
"I heard you got suspended," she replied, with a roll of her eyes.
"I saved a life, that's what important," or so he keeps rationalizing it himself, especially after the scolding from Dr. Jordan. She and his sister would get alone fabulously. Both have this amazing ability to reduce him down to three again.
"Go home, Nick," Rae advised, turning toward the exit.
"Why don't you come with me?" he asked, walking alongside her just to see what she'd do even knowing the answer.
"Nick," warning him.
"You can't avoid me forever," he replied quietly. "I'll be waiting." Then took himself off in the opposite direction.
"Don't hold your breath," muttering under her breath and wondering what she was doing to herself. All she wanted to do now was go home to her husband and take a nice long hot shower. Then maybe work on getting her marriage back on track and forget the gorgeous doctor what seemed to want to give her the world. She gave a silent laugh of amusement, "And I was worried about Jules?"
*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
She slowed as she came near the bench that held a very dejected Dr. Slingerland, staring off into nothing. The exhaustion was palpable even from the distance of the hall. It was as if someone stole something bright in him. "Hey you."
Slingerland turned and blinked at her for a moment, recognition slow in coming. Then as if someone had turned on a ray of hope, he brightened and smiled. "Hello," then glanced down at his watch. "What are you still doing here?"
"Taking care of a very special little girl," she replied, sitting down next to him with a sigh. It wasn't just physical exhaustion any more; it was everything else in life. "I heard about Alan."
He nodded his head, taking her offer of sympathy. "And I heard about Dorothy Ann. How is she?"
"She'll live," Jules replied, surprised that with all that was happening on his schedule he had managed to keep an ear to the ground about hers. "I'm going to have Jackie try to remove that scar. I don't want her to have to remember what her dad did every time she takes a shower."
"Yeah, not exactly that most cheery thing to remember about your childhood," he replied, tilting his shoulder to let her rest her head against it. "DCFS step in?"
"Police took the dad in custody and social services got emergency control over Dorothy. The mother..." Jules swallowed. "She'll end up losing the other two as well."
"It's to protect them," he said quietly. "You can only protect them from others," he turned his head slightly to look through the glass at the retrained young man that laid so peacefully now in bed. "But there is so much you can't protect them from."
She followed his eyes to her former patient. "I heard about the girlfriend."
"Beth," he informed her with a smile. "Short for Bethlehem." He shook his head and stared ahead once more. "She loves him. Don't blame him one bit for what happened. The girl nearly died from a beating that would have killed a lesser gal. And Alan... he doesn't even remember."
Taking his hand, Jules linked her fingers with his giving him a reassuring squeeze. "You did what you could. Alan is... he's not a child that you can just scold." She turned to look at him, see the pain in his eyes at not having acted sooner or more for the young man. "You protected Beth the best you could. I know you did. And you got to her in time to save her life, that's what counts, saving lives."
Slingerland nodded, understanding what she was saying and accepting it in his mind if not in his heart. He was tired, bone tired and heartsick; but not to the point that he didn't notice the fact that she looked about as bad as he felt. "Go home, Jules. You look ready to drop any second."
Keating smiled, "I could say the same of you."
He looked back at Alan for a moment. "I think I'll stay here for a bit."
Getting up, she squeezed his hand one more time before letting go. "Matt, he is where he needs to be. Don't beat yourself up over something you had no control over. You did good."
Smiling up at her, "You should take your own advice. You saved that little girl and got the other children the protection they needed. Don't doubt yourself."
She wondered if she did enough in time. The damage, emotional ones, have already been inflicted and would be the hardest to heal. But there was nothing more she could do, or offer, for those children. Nodding, she turned to leave.
Matt sat there watching her drooped shoulder and slow walk. People like Jules Keating shouldn't have to suffer through the ugliness of life. They should be allowed to wear rose color glasses and believe in fairy tales. "Jules?"
She turned. "Yeah?"
He got up and reached out a hand. "You want to go get some ice cream?"
Jules smiled before taking the offered hand. "Only if we can get dinner first."
"Deal."
*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
"Next time, I'll get dinner and you get desert," Jules said as she pushed the door open with a mighty shove. "And I didn't do all the bolts this time."
"Thank god for some small miracles, it's freezing out here," pushing her through the door before him. "Good grief, the temperature seem to drop another few degrees every time I turn around." Rubbing his arms through the sleeves of his coat vigorously.
"You're from England, for god sakes. Isn't it like always raining there?" Checking the thermostat.
"You Americans either watch too many movies about England or you think all of England is like London." He pulled the scarf from around his neck and dropped it carelessly over the back of her sofa along with his gloves and coat. "I happened to have grew up in a nice part of England where it is neither so unbearably cold nor suffocating humid." With a sigh, he dropped his tired self down on the couch. "Mother was right, I should have gone to LA."
"But then you won't have met little ole me!" she said, leaning over the back of the couch to grin at him.
Tilting his head back, he smiled at her. "True." Looking around the cozy little apartment, "Aren't you going to offer me your mother's wonderful coffee?"
"A grateful guest I see," tapping him lightly on the top of his head before swinging about to turn to the kitchen. "Pop in a sappy happy movie, will you? I want to feel good again."
"What? Dinner with yours truly didn't do the trick for you, luv?" getting up to looked at the collection of DVD's that were neatly lined up on the low left just under the missive flat screen on the wall. Glancing upward and about, he let out a low whistle of appreciation. "And here I thought only us men have a fine taste for surround sound home entertainment systems."
"You can lay the blame on that one directly on my brother Jeff's head. He always said that nothing is worth having if it's not the finest you can afford. Being a chemical engineer, he can afford quite a lot," she laughed as she watched the coffee maker drip droplets of heavenly nectar. "I'm making this doubly strong."
"You still have some popcorn left from the other night?" he asked, fingering several highly romantic comedy films that he knew would bring a smile to her face. But to be completely honest, he didn't particularly want to watch people falling heavily in love, especially given the pathetic state in which his own life has been of late.
"Yeah. Extra butter?" she called back from the kitchen as she looked through her shelves. Hardly anyone ever allows her to put extra butter on the popcorn, most complained that it's either too sweet, too greasy or it would go straight to their thighs.
"How can you have popcorn without extra butter?" Matt asked bemused as he pulled 'The Fifth Element' and 'The Thin Man' from the shelf. Holding the two up for Jules to see, he asked, "Sci Fi or classic black and white?"
Peering at him from behind the breakfast counter, she frowned. "Oh, tough call."
"Flip a coin," he said, inhaling a lungful of caffeine. "Oh, that smells delicious."
"Sugar only right? Two spoonfuls?" she asked instinctively even knowing the answer already as she stirred the sugar into his cup and cream only into her own. She turned to look at the popcorn currently making a racket in the microwave.
Slingerland grinned as he watched her, marveling at the fact that she knew how he took his coffee. Most of the women he ever dated didn't even remember his last name, simply referring to him as 'doc.' It was nice having someone around that knew him to a degree. "I'll take Sci Fi and you take Classic." Pulling a coin out, "Call it."
"Heads," she replied as the shiny quarter flipped through the air.
"Heads have it," putting 'The Fifth Element' back to its location on the neatly alphabetized order. "Ever wondered why they decided that the perfect being in the universe should be a woman?"
"Matt, you're so asking the wrong person here," coming around the corner with a tray. "You want chocolate?"
"What do you have?" slipping the DVD into the player.
"M&M's and some..." she glanced into the cookie jar on the dining room table. "I'm not sure what this is so let's just stick with M&M's shall we?"
He laughed, feeling better by the minute. He could almost push back the sense of guilt over the whole Alan thing... almost. "Halloween leftovers?"
"Yes," she shook her head as she put the tray down and opened up the packet of M&M's to pour into the small candy dish on the glass coffee table. "Every year I tell myself not to buy so much candy cause I usually end up with enough to last me through to Christmas. But I don't ever seem to remember when the next year rolls around."
"I never have that problem," taking a sip of the scolding hot coffee and sighing with content as the heat slowly made its way down to his toes.
"How?"
"I work Halloween nights," he replied with a grin. "But I always leave a large bucket of candy in front of my door so that children may get it themselves. I have never come home to leftover candies before."
"Hum..." she wrinkled her nose as she flipped through the front menu section. "I'll have to remember that. Oh... did I tell you? I saw Billy this morning."
"Follow up appointment?" he asked, putting popcorn into his mouth and leaning back to enjoy the movie, not once wondering how he ended up in Dr. Keating's apartment on a Wednesday evening watching old movies and enjoying her charming company.
"Yes," she replied, sitting back with the bowl of popcorn between the two of them and the coffee mugs within easy reach. "Debra may not be the most attentive mother, but Billy sure is one happy healthy child. Well, except for the gall bladder thing."
"Did you ever find out why he had a failed gall bladder at such a young age?" he asked as Myrna Loy appeared on the screen, funny hat, fur coat and all being dragged by her dog through a gin joint. "I love this movie."
"Who wouldn't love Loy and Powell?" she asked chewing on the popcorn, savoring the taste of hot melted butter on her tongue. "And no, looks like he's probably just got a weak gall bladder that was abused by the massive amounts of junk food he is fed."
"Well, Debra may not win the mother of the year award but at least we know that Billy is taken care of," he chuckled softly as he watched the interplay between Powell and Loy. "How many of these movies did they make?"
"Six I think," she replied, laughing as she admired Loy's abilities to carry off a comical look without being the least bit conscious. She only wish she was nearly as graceful. "Yeah, I guess I'll give Debra credit for at least making sure her kid is in good health."
"By the way, did I tell you that I think Debra may have finally taken the bait?" he asked reaching into the bowl absentmindedly. "Six Thin Man movies?"
"Really?" choking on an un-popped kernel. "How did that miracle come about?"
"Don't know," shrugging his shoulders gently, eyes glued to the television set. "It may have something to do with your saving her son's life."
Jules laughed gently at the Christmas party scene as all the guests drank themselves into a stupor, "I guess." Shifting in the seat to find a more comfortable position. "And yeah, Loy and Powell did a total of six in the Nick and Nora Charles series, and a few more others together. They always did great chemistry. Oh man, you think people so do those kinds of parties any more?"
"If we were in England yes," he answered, swinging one arm back to drape around Jules's shoulders, bring her and the popcorn bowl closer. "You wouldn't believe the amount of alcohol consumed in my country. It is the stuff of AA's nightmares."
For a moment, she wasn't sure how to react to his causal touch. But seeing that he was more interested in the movie than anything else, she ignored the slight flutter in her stomach and chalked it up to an unconscious friendly gesture. "Yet we don't hear about alcohol abuse as prominently as we do here in the states."
Slingerland snorted his amusement, "You American are a little too obsessed with other people's business. World around you would go a lot smoother if you paid less attention to others and more attention to your own lives."
"Right, that's why Princess Diana was killed trying to get away from reporters that couldn't care a fig about her life." She tilted her head to look at him with a grin.
Nodding his head, he conceded defeat. "Point taken."
Laughing, she pushed him gently with her shoulder. She leaned her head on his shoulders as they fell into comfortable silence, watching a classic detective film that features two of the most brilliant comedic stars in the 40's at their best. "You can see that Nora loved Nick a lot."
"You mean besides that fact that she teases and insults him in turn," he grinned. "Yeah, they had something there that is so incredibly rare in this day and age."
"Unconditional love?" she asked with sappy happy smile as Nora grabbed Nick in a panic as he was about to go out the door. "I use to watch these movies and pretend that it's me in there, finding or having the love of my life. Silly, heh?"
"Movies are suppose to take you away from realities, that's what they are there for." He replied quietly, eyes still on the television but mind no longer in it. "They help you forget." But forgetting isn't something that comes easily.
Jules nodded her head soberly; no longer as interested in the movie as she had been only minutes before. "Is that what we're doing? Trying to forget?"
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. It would be nice to simply agree with her, at least to make her feel better. But lying to her was not something he was willing to do, even if it was to protect her. "No, just trying to live with it."
She was quiet for a moment, snuggling into the crook of his arm. "What do you think will happen to Alan?"
Slingerland wondered that all evening himself. "Psych will do their evaluation tomorrow and start treatment for him. From everything Beth tells me, Alan was a good kid once. Maybe with the proper help..." How much of the kid's life will be stolen from him until he is helped was another question.
"And the girlfriend?"
"Who, Beth?" He shook his head. "She's going to stay by his side until he gets out. Vowed it in fact." Another young life wasted. "She was going to go to LA and become an artist. Performing arts, of course."
"Of course," she replied with a weak smile.
"I'm glad that you turned Alan's case over to me."
"Are you?" Jules asked softly.
"Yeah," he nodded sincerely. "I would hate it if you had to deal with Alan's problem."
Finding it awfully sweet of him, "Well, to be honest, I think I would have gladly traded Alan's problem for Dorothy Ann's."
Matt acknowledged that with a nod, eyes watching the television but not seeing it any more. "What do you think is going to happen to that little girl?"
Jules shook her head, feeling the tightness in her chest again. She could still see the metal shard and feel it in her gloved hand as she extracted it from the torn muscle at the girl's side. "If she's lucky, she won't remember much of what happened. The antibiotics and painkillers should help to ease some of the memory. If she's not, Dorothy Ann will remember that her father tried to kill her with a shotgun."
Pulling her against him a little tighter, he wished he could remove the trace of bitter pain in her voice. "She's safe now."
"She's in a hospital alone with enough stitches on her side to make a Goth queen proud. And when she gets out, she'll go into a foster home. If she goes into a good home, she may come out merely bitter and in need of some counseling. If she doesn't..." she shuddered just remembering some of the horror stories that came out of bad foster homes. "Dorothy Ann is never going to be a little girl anymore."
There was nothing he could say to that, nothing to change that reality for her. "We do what we can."
"But it's not enough," she replied, her eyes tearing up. "It's not nearly enough."
"No," he said softly with a great deal of weight in his heart. "It's not."
They sat there in silence, watching as Nick and Nora invited all the suspects of the murder to a nice dinner party, complete with a police escort. As the scene played out, neither Slingerland nor Keating said a word.
Matt felt pained at having not been able to allow Jules some peace, even for one night. Jules felt awful at having brought up the whole ugly subject again, even after promising not to speak of it during dinner. But it is something either one can ignore. They are who they are, and their patients affected their lives, good and bad.
"Matt?"
"Yeah?"
"You going to stay the night?" she asked tentatively. She knew what Harriet thought of it, she has a pretty good idea what the rest of the staff will say about it, but she didn't care at the moment. Besides, she was a grown woman. She can do as she liked.
For a moment, he thought about cracking a joke. But the mood of the evening had turned heavy. "May I?"
"Yeah," she nodded her head, gently bumping his chin with the top of her head.
"Then I'll stay," he replied, leaning his head down to drop a kiss on her head, glad that he could. He didn't really want to face a cold empty apartment tonight.
She tilted her head up to thank for, not wanting to be alone tonight, just as his head descended.
Instead of the chaste friendly kiss on the head, as Matt intended, or the grateful thank you that Jules had been about to bestow, their lips met. Both too startled by the unexpected event to move, the kiss lingered.
Slingerland finally jerked his head back. "I..." She stared at him for a moment before touching his lips with her fingertips, silencing him. Then considering it, she lifted herself up and pressed her lips against his again.
For a moment, Matt allowed himself to enjoy the feel of a woman against his body. She tasted sweet like candy and smelled incredibly good. Then remembering whom this was and what their relationship was, he pulled back, pressing himself into the sofa. "This is not a good idea."
"Why?" she asked, shifting her position on the couch so that her body was now facing his.
"Because you and I are... are... We're friends and..." he never got to finish as Jules pressed her open mouth against his, tasting the sugar from the coffee he had earlier and the salty taste of the melted butter from the popcorn. Surprisingly enough, it didn't both her one bit.
A kiss, in Slingerland's mind, was one of the most intimate acts in a liaison. It begins and relates to things that are beautiful and good about relationships. Which is one of the reasons that he so enjoyed kissing. And Jules Keating, innocent lamb that she is, was one hell of a kisser. Lying there with her pressed up tight against him, he was so tempted to just give into the incredible pleasures that he already getting a taste of.
No, no, no. He couldn't let himself do this. She was a good friend, one of the best things that's come into his life in a long while. He was not going to screw this up for a... a fling. Besides, men don't have flings with girls like Jules. She was the marrying type, not the roll-in-the-hay type. Grabbing her by the upper arms, he pushed her back. "Jules..." And then he looked into her eyes.
Gray-green eyes were wide with need, pain and a good dash of misery added to the mix. And worse of all, they were pleading with him to understand. "Please," she whispered softly as her hand came to rest over his on her arms.
Death, pain, suffering... all the elements were converging on her. And like soldier after the field of battle, she was looking for a reaffirmation of life. How can he deny her that?
"No regrets in the morning, okay?" he hoped more than asked as his hands loosened their hold.
She nodded, her head already lowering to his again. And in the next kiss, she obliterated the lines of their friendship forever.
*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
I was going to give a little more description but decided that you can all use your imagination on this one. But I would love know what you think of the story so far.