Title: To Be Close To Him

Disclaimer: I own nothing of great value, and that includes Abby, Carter and the other cohorts of ER. Those belong to The Powers That Be and the kind folks at Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement is ever intended. I write because I like to write, and I share because I want to.

Notes: Long time no update. Heh. Blame it on the fact that my life is rather busy right now, and that I'm just getting over a little 'bout of the block. But enough about me…

Spoilers for "Walk Like A Man". And because I'm so generous, this chapter is supersized and serves as a two-for-one. Not only is it the next installment in my "Reflections" series, it doubles as a companion to my WLAM additional-scene fic, "Stay". Pretty convenient, huh? And to think, all this can be yours for three easy payments of $39.95. Plus, if you call within the next ten minutes…

Enjoy.

****

"I didn't mean to leave like that. It just… seemed kind of complicated and I wanted to give it time to figure out where we were."


I let his words linger for a moment as I glance away. I take another step down towards him. I need to be close to him.

"Here we are."

I smile and he reciprocates the expression with enthusiasm. My eyes leave his briefly as I roll them to the side playfully and then look back at him. He's still smiling. And waiting.

"Umm… I think this is the part where you kiss me."

He raises his eyebrows. "You think so?"

I nod silently, and shrug, my own smile unwavering.

He climbs the last step so he's beside me, and I shift myself to face this new direction. "Well… If you insist."

He hesitates a moment longer, just for effect, and I seize the opportunity, grabbing the tie that hangs loosely around his neck. I yank him downwards till our noses touch.

"I definitely insist." My voice is breathy between us, and I quickly close the distance between his lips and mine, engaging them in a passionate battle. I can feel him grin into the kiss as he draws his arms around me, pulling my body to his, deepening our romantic tete-a-tete. His tongue seeks immediate entry, as usual. My lips part willingly, as usual. My hand continues to grip his tie while the other slides itself up the side of his body to his face, my fingers grazing his cheek. I never get tired of touching him this way.

We part several seconds later, slightly winded. I smile seductively at him, fingering his chin, before I wag a single digit in front of his face. "I can't believe you needed prompting."

He laughs a little and nips at my finger. "I really don't know what came over me."

"Would you care to…" I pause and raise an eyebrow. "… Take this inside?"

His response is typical. "Do you even have to ask?"

I release my capture on his tie, grab his hand, turn around and lead him up the last couple of steps to the landing. My free hand resumes its search for my keys. I know I have them, they've been banging against my side all the way home. Damn I hate this coat.

A familiar jingle catches my attention and I draw my head up, coming face-to-face with a shiny ring set dangling in front of me. I frown and look up at him. "How did you…"

He smirks and leans in to give me a kiss on the forehead. "Right front pocket. Like always."

I laugh and shake my head, snatching the keys off his finger, and turn to unlock the door. Unfortunately, this means I have to drop his hand, and I do with reluctance, giving it a squeeze. He responds by encircling his arms around my waist and burying his face in the curve of my neck. I can feel him inhale deeply against me, and I smile at the movement of his chest against my back. My hands manage to find the key and the lock at the same time, and in seconds I have it open. I look down at my human teddy bear and cup a hand to the side of his head. He raises it and loosens his grip around my waist as I guide him across the threshold and into the building.

It has occurred to me that I've never actually had make-up sex before. At least, not technically. Richard and I fought all the time, so much so that if the phrase "make-up sex" was used to call whatever intimacy we shared after we resolved – or pushed aside – the issue, it would have quickly lost its meaning. Luka and I hardly communicated. Thus we rarely fought. Well, almost rarely. There was that one time. But I digress.

I'm looking forward to having real, true make-up sex. With him. I mean, I'd take any kind of sex with John Carter over no sex with John Carter. I do feel bad that we fought, if only because I hate any kind of distance from him.

I look up at him as we climb the stairs to my apartment. Somewhere between the door and here, his hand found mine again and he's stroking the back of it gently with his thumb. I love it when he does this.

"Do you realize what happened today?"

He looks down at me, curiously. I was sure he'd have figured it out by now. "What?"

"We had our first fight."

"Oh." That's all he says. I sneak a glance out of the corner of my eye. He's got that serious look on his face, the one I always tease him about.

I realize how quickly I came to losing him tonight. There I was, naïve Abby, willing to take for granted the fact that he cares too much about me to have ended what we have over a few stupid drinks. How much did it hurt to watch him leave me standing there? Almost as painful as it was to see the disappointment in his eyes when he did.

I know I did more bad than good by keeping my drinking a secret. I knew how he would react and I wasn't ready to deal with the ramifications. The disappointment. So I took the easy way out.

And look where it got us.

I unlock my apartment door and open it, leading him inside. He drops my hand as we enter, and I lazily throw my keys on the end table. Flipping on a light and slipping off my coat, I turn around and find him standing there, barely inside the doorway, watching me. I study him, too. The rumpled hair, that hint of five-o'clock shadow. Shirt untucked, tie askew in the collar. I don't think that look has left his face in the last minute-and-a-half.

I tip my head to the side. "Would you like to come in?" I smile, hoping to break the sudden tension.

He rests his bag beside the door and closes the distance between us. In an act that I pray doesn't look desperate, I reach out and pull him to me, wrapping my arms around his torso in a hug. Just to be close to him. He responds, softening, resting his chin atop my head.

"I'm sorry." My voice is barely a whisper, but I know he hears it.

"Me too."

I pull back a little and look up at him. "Really?"

He nods, caressing my shoulders with his hands. "I didn't mean the things I said."

"Yes you did."

He looks at the ceiling and lets out a long breath. "Abby… I don't want to…"

I withdraw my arms from around his body, stepping away from him. He looks back down at me, concerned.

"… What?"

I shake my head. "I don't want to fight, either. I'm sorry. But you shouldn't have to take anything back. That's not how this works. That's not how I want this to work."

He smiles a little. "Okay."

I bite my lip and return his smile. Moments of silence pass and we're simply looking at each other. It isn't until something inside me calls out that I remember my earlier proposition.

"Are you hungry?"

His grin widens. "I could eat."

I laugh and begin to make my way to the kitchen, batting his chest lightly as I pass. "Is Chinese all right?"

"I guess. But I thought you said burgers? Shakes…" He drifts off for a moment. "I mean, we can have whatever, but I was kind of hoping…"

I retrieve my collection of takeout menus from their place between the flour and sugar canisters and return to the living room, flipping through the stack.

"I don't know… I kind of don't feel like going…" I look up from the flyers and see him lounging on the couch, sans jacket and shoes. "…out."

He smirks. "Yeah, me neither, but I still want a burger. And fries. And a shake."

I tip my head and raise and eyebrow. "Anything else?"

He thinks for a moment, looking at me with those little-boy eyes that just make me melt. "Just you."

"Aww."

He shrugs. "It's true."

I sigh, and after a few moments, manage to tear my eyes away from his and back to the flyers. "Well, I don't see any menus here that offer burgers, fries, shakes and sex." I look back at him and wink. "I guess we're just going to have to venture out."

He laughs and pushes himself off the couch, grabbing the phone off the end table.

"I've got an idea…"

"What is it?"

He heads into the kitchen and I start to follow him. He turns around quickly and suddenly, forcing my body to come to an abrupt halt against his.

"Hey…"

He puts a hand on my shoulder to steady me and spins me around to face the opposite direction. "You just go... Leave this to me."

I throw him a look over my shoulder. "You sure?"

He's already dialing. "Absolutely."

"Okay…"

What is he up to?

I shake my head and wander into my bedroom, leaving him to carry out his secret little mission. I begin to busy myself, putting things away and folding some neglected laundry, I can hear his voice in the next room, talking to whomever he's called. I'm tempted to turn around and hide inside the doorway to find out what he's got up his sleeve, but I quickly brush the urge aside. I know he's trying to impress me, so maybe I should play along. If I know him, I'll probably enjoy whatever it is.

I pick up a stack of clean towels and head towards the bathroom. I put them in their place, turn around and face the sink. Pulling the clip out of my hair, I toss my head from side to side and run my fingers through it. I groan as they catch on a few knots. Great. The rain did nothing for it. I grab my brush and pass it through my hair rapidly as I try to work out the kinks. Putting the bush down, I comb my fingers through the tresses again. They pass through cleanly this time and I remind myself to double up on the conditioner tomorrow morning.

I look at my reflection in the mirror. What do I see?

Addict.

John Carter is my habit. I know it sounds ridiculously corny, but it's true. Who needs to drink when you can come home night after night and wrap yourself around this man?

Apparently, I do.

Vices.

I stopped smoking three months ago. Just up and quit. Actually, it came as a dare. During the lockdown, he bet me fifty bucks that I wouldn't be able to go two weeks without a cigarette. Of course, it wasn't like I had a choice. Still, he helped by keeping my brain and my body… shall we say… busy, so that I rarely even thought about lighting up. And since, well… It's become a game. The longer we last, the longer I last.

The longer I last. I wish I could say the same thing about other things.

Really, I don't know why I'm drinking, so don't bother asking. But it's not a vice. It's just… a thing I do.

I can stop anytime. But why? It's not like I'm out of control.

Right?

So, when you think about it, I really only have one real addiction. Once vice. John Carter.

I emerge from the bedroom to find him sitting back on the couch, a satisfied grin on his face.

"All done?"

"You bet."

I sit next to him, crossing one leg underneath me. I raise an eyebrow. "And?"

"And the food will be here in half-an-hour."

I frown. "From where?"

"Ahh…" He smiles mischievously. "…You'll find out."

I shake my head in wonder. "You're rotten, do you know that?"

He responds by grabbing my arm, pulling me to him.

"Am I? Well, perhaps we should see just how rotten we can be together. I reckon we have half-an-hour to amuse ourselves. Any ideas?"

I lick my lips and lean in close. "I suppose I can think of a few options that are available to us."

He meets me in the middle, kissing my nose. "Good. Feel free to demonstrate them on me, then."

"Don't mind if I do…"

***

"Nurse Manager?"

We're sitting at opposite ends of the couch, facing each other. Our food, courtesy of DocMagoo's, is nearly devoured. Takeout remnants in the form of wrappers and Styrofoam containers are all that remain of our burgers, fries and shakes. Looks like I lived up to my promise.

I nod, swallowing my last French fry. "Yeah."

He raises an eyebrow. "Really?" He sits up and puts his empty cup on the coffee table.

"Yes."

"Hmm."

I sigh. "What?"

"Nothing… I just…" He looks away quickly, trying to hide a smile.

I shake my head in disbelief. "You knew."

He turns back slowly, guiltily.

I sit up abruptly, nearly throwing my own shake at him. "You knew!"

He laughs at my expression. "Yeah."

"For how long?"

"This morning."

"This morning? Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugs. "I forgot?"

I huff, looking away. "Yeah, right."

He frowns. "Are we fighting?"

I look back at him, my eyebrows raised. "Do you want to fight?"

He sighs and leans forward, clearing his throat. "Abby."

I glare at him in response. To be truthful, I'm not that mad. I just like to get him riled up. It's what I do.

"Abby. I'm sorry. I just…" He drifts off, trying to come up with an excuse. I soften a little and relax against the cushions again.

"It's just that, we were talking about… The other thing, and I guess I got a little distracted." He looks up at me, a pained look in his eyes.

He's serious.

"Oh." My gaze drifts to the cup in my hands. "Okay."

There's a pause and I hear him take a deep breath and shift closer to me.

"Abby."

I sigh again and bring my eyes up to meet his. "We need to talk."

"Yes, we do."

I unfold my legs out from underneath me and place my cup on the coffee table. Sitting up straight, I fold my hands in my lap and take a deep breath.

"John…"

"Did you mean what you said?"

I look up at him, frowning. "What?"

He shifts closer. "Earlier… At the El station. Did you mean what you said to me?"

I don't follow his thought. "About…"

"Are you really happy? With me?"

I open my mouth to answer, but something holds me back. He doesn't believe me? "Why… Why would you think I wouldn't mean that?"

He swallows slowly. "You're drinking…"

"And you think I drink because I'm not happy with you?"

He shakes his head and stares up at the ceiling. He's frustrated, and really, I don't blame him.

"You did it last time. You did it with Richard." His eyes fall back towards me. "You told me that you drink to hide your real feelings."

"Oh. I guess I did say that." I bite my lip. Damn it, what have I done?

It's his turn to study his hands. "I'm sorry I left like that… I just… I couldn't stand there any longer and listen to you say that you were happy with me if you didn't mean it."

"I mean it."

His head snaps up. "Do you really?"

The expression on his face makes me want to cry. The disappointment, the confusion, the devotion…

I can feel the tears well up in my eyes. No. I fight them. I cannot cry. Not now. Not yet.

There's something I want to say.

He's watching me.

"I have to tell you something…"

He sits up immediately, concerned. "You can tell me anything."

I nod and shift my position on the couch, so I'm facing him. "I… I haven't been entirely truthful to you."

He stares at me intently. "Ok…"

I'm silent for a moment, allowing time for my thoughts to arrange themselves in my head. This needs to be done. Now. He's waited long enough.

I bow my head. I don't know why… It just feels right.

"The last three months have been… Incredible. I can't remember a time when I've felt this content, this… Comfortable, this… Protected.

"I feel safe with you. I know that as long as I'm with you, nothing will ever harm me. I'm happy with you, John."

I roll my eyes up to look at him. I want to see his reaction.

"You ask me why I'm drinking, and to be perfectly honest with you… I really don't know why. Except that, for the first time in my life, I feel normal. I feel right. I feel… I feel like this is the way it should be. You and I. Us."

I sigh. "I have never felt like this about anyone."

There's more silence after this. I'm not finished, but I can't bring myself to go on. I need to know what he thinks…

And I guess he wants more, because he speaks next.

"Felt like what, Abby?"

I draw my head up now, and look into his eyes. There's that match of emotion again. It's so clear.

He knows. He's always known.

"Love."

The tears venture their way back again, except now I care not to fight them. I close my eyes and let them spill over onto my cheeks.

No. There won't be anymore fighting tonight.

I can feel his hands cup my face, tilting it upwards. My tears slide between his fingers as they caress my cheeks.

"You don't have to be afraid to cry in front of me, Abby."

I shake my head. "I'm not."

He pulls my head forward and I can feel his lips come to rest in the middle of my forehead. I shift closer on the couch so that I'm right next to him now.

And still, I'm not close enough.

Pulling my head upwards, I open my eyes, bringing my hands to my face, wiping away the last of my tears. His hands slide to rest at the back of my head and mine find their spot resting on his forearms. I sniff lightly and smile at him.

"I meant what I said earlier," I say softly.

He nods. "I know."

And then, suddenly, I feel him move away from me. This throws me for a moment, as I'm still caught up in the aftermath of my declaration. I shake my head to clear it, and glance towards the end of the couch. He's settling back in the corner and he reaches over, taking one of my hands, pulling me to him. I slide my body over, dragging my feet up onto the cushions. I rest my head on his chest and he wraps a strong arm around me, drawing me further into his embrace.

But still, it's not close enough.

I sigh and settle into his chest. "Thank-you."

"For what?"

"For coming back."

He's quiet for a moment.

"I'm drawn to you, Abby. It's not something I can explain anymore. But I can't promise that it's always going to be smooth sailing, because I know it won't be."

"Me too."

"And I can't promise that I won't ever hurt you, because I'm human. I make mistakes."

"I know."

"But I can promise you this…"

I pull my head up and gaze up at him, watching. Waiting.

"I'm always going to be here for you. I won't push you or preach to you. I know you don't need that. But I will support you in every way I know how. And not because I want to fix you. Because I want to be with you, and because I don't anticipate ever not wanting to be with you."

"Oh."

"Abby, I'm scared, too. I've never felt this way about anyone, either. But it's okay. We don't have to hide from each other. Not anymore."

I nod, a couple more tears sliding down my cheek. I bring my hand up to wipe them away, but he's faster, his hand lingering on my cheek. I turn my head and kiss his palm.

"Do you always know the right thing to say?"

He laughs lightly. "Rarely."

I smile a little and rest my head on his chest again. Silence creeps in then, and we remain there for several moments. He strokes my hair and I busy myself with the buttons on his shirt. Neither one of us wants to speak - for fear that more conversation will break the spell. However, there's only so much of this I can take. I need to be closer to him.

"Hey."

"Yes?"

"Will you do me a favour?"

"Anything."

I raise my head and look up at him. "Make love to me?"

He smiles. "There's nothing I'd rather do more."

***

This man.

He's amazing.

I can't believe he's with me right now. Loving me. Making love to me. With me.

It's heaven.

The bed sheets are tangled around us, clinging to our naked bodies. And we cling to each other, but not out of fear. Not out of desire. Out of joy. Happiness.

Happiness.

Because we are.

He's long since drifted off, but I'm wide-awake. My head rests against his chest, and I can hear his heart beating a slow, steady rhythm.

It's music to my ears.

Before tonight, I never knew what it felt like to have real, true make-up sex. I don't have to wonder anymore, because I've done it with John Carter. The man I've shared so many other firsts with. The man I plan on sharing many more firsts with.

Call the others practice, but there's one thing for sure. This is it for me. I'm done.

I've found him.

I'm so caught up in my own reverie that I don't hear the first ring. But he does.

I can feel him stir at the noise.

*RING*

"Abby… "

I snuggle in response "Hmmm…"

"Abby… Phone."

*RING*

He moves to grab the phone off the nightstand.

"Don't get it."

"Why not?"

I sigh, opening my eyes slowly. "Because."

*RING*

He raises an eyebrow. "Abby?"

I lift my head lazily, resting my chin on his shoulder, one eye on him, one eye on the phone. "It's nobody I want to talk to right now."

*RING*

"Maybe it's work."

I sigh again and bury my face in his chest, kissing it lightly. "They'll leave a message."

We lay there for a few seconds, waiting for the next ring. It never comes.

He glances at the phone. "They hung up."

I nod and close my eyes, tightening my grip around his torso.

"They didn't want leave a message?"

I tilt my head to look at him again. "Guess not." I smile sweetly and lay my head back down. Have I mentioned how much I love being this close to him?

"But…"

"Carter?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

We drift into a content silence once more, choosing to enjoy the quiet of this time together. I use my index finger to trace circles around his stomach through the sheet. He's combing his fingers through my hair, kissing the top of my head as he does so. After a few moments, I raise my head and hoist myself further up the bed so my face rests inches from his.

He brushes a finger across my cheek. "Hi."

I close my eyes at his touch. "Mmm… Hi."

He kisses me lightly, his lips lingering on mine for a couple of seconds before pulling away. "What time is it?"

I roll over to look at the clock. "A quarter past who cares."

He chuckles. "We do have to work tomorrow."

I roll over on my back. "Argh… Don't remind me."

"Bright and early." He teases.

I tilt my head to the side to look at him. "You'd better be careful… I might just take back everything we just did."

"Aw, come on now…" He shifts his position so he's hovering right over me, his arms resting on either side of my body. "That's not how this works."

I make a face. "Who said that?"

"My girlfriend." He leans in to kiss my forehead.

I nod a little in understanding. "I see… Smart woman."

"Smart…"

His lips move from one cheek…

"Sexy…"

To the other…

"Funny…"

He kisses the bridge of my nose…

"Beautiful…"

My chin…

"Talented…"

"Talented?"

He leans in deeper and nuzzles one ear…

"Oh yeah…"

"What else?"

Nuzzles the other ear…

"Well…" He draws back, looking at me full on, his brown eyes smoldering. "She's just… Amazing."

I smile. "And?"

He throws me a look of mock surprise. "Isn't amazing enough?"

I brush the back of my hand across his cheek. "And?"

He sighs. "And… I love her."

"Mmm…" I close my eyes and take a moment to enjoy the word. Love. "Good answer. This girlfriend of yours, she's a lucky girl."

"The luckiest. But I'm even luckier."

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you?"

"Yes."

"How so?"

"Because…." He licks his lips, and leans in again. "I get to do this."

His lips touch mine a split second later, and he lowers his weight around me. I wrap my arms around his neck, drawing him even deeper into the embrace. The physical contact may have been enough to satisfy me in the past, but there's this newfound sensation that has entered in, and I realize that it's something I'm never going to want to be without.

It's true love.

"Abby?"

"Hmm?" I look up at him, and realize he's watching me very intently, a look of concern washing over his face. His thumb massages my cheek gently.

"You looked… far away. What were you thinking about?"

I sigh and smile. "You. Us."

He returns my smile. "And?"

"And… I love you, John."

***

AN: I really wanted to put off the whole "I love you" thing until The Powers That Be wrote it into the show, but I got a little tired of waiting. It's been three months, one would assume they'd have exchanged these words by now. I don't think the writers will gyp us this time (unlike they did with their, ahem, first "time") and it will be wonderful. But whatever. If it happens on the show, you can forget everything you read here. Ok? Stay tuned. :o)