REVISION: I was fully intending to simply let this story go unfinished. My feeling was that if TPTB were going to kill off Romano, then my writer's block could only worsen and it would never get finished. However, having watched "Freefall" and having read some other fans resolves to continue their stories, I am inspired to continue, if only to give TPTB a big fat middle-finger.

The revision of the first nine chapters is primarily going to entail minor changes, with very few changes to the story itself. New chapters will be forthcoming as my muse allows.

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When the doorbell rang, Elizabeth's first impulse was to ignore it. It was late and after the difficult day she had had, she was in no mood for visitors. However, when the bell rang again, seemingly more insistently, she sighed resignedly and went to answer it.

She opened the door and squinted out into the dark. "Hello?" she called, "Is anyone there?" There was no response and she was about to close the door when a figure materialized out of the gloom. It was so sudden that she gasped in surprise, even more so when she realized who it was.

"Robert? What on earth are you doing here?"

When Romano didn't move or speak, Elizabeth took a closer look at him. His eyes were red-rimmed and his jaw was ghosted with unshaven stubble. He was still wearing the same blue scrubs he'd been wearing at the hospital that day. Concerned, he asked, "Robert, is something wrong?"

The question seemed to jolt him out of his reverie and he started, seemingly surprised to find her standing before him, for all that he was at her house. "Wrong? Um, no. Nothing's wrong, Lizzie," he muttered, with none of his usual eloquence, "I'm sorry to bother you so late at night, I'll be going."

He turned to leave, but Elizabeth caught at his arm. She could tell something was eating at him, and she was reluctant to let him leave before she found out what it was. Romano stopped and turned back to face her.

Elizabeth said softly, "It's no bother, Robert. Something is obviously troubling you, and I would like to help if I could." He hesitated only another moment before he acquiesced and followed her in. He muttered something that sounded like, "I doubt it."

"Would you like tea or coffee, Robert?" Elizabeth asked, going into the kitchen.

"Coffee."

"How do you take it?"

"Black," he said as he sat at the kitchen table. Elizabeth observed him out of the corner of her eye as she poured the coffee. Tension fairly radiated from him, and he was clenching and unclenching his hands as if unsure what to do with them.

Elizabeth set the mug of dark, fragrant brew before him and her hand brushed against his. He jumped as if her touch was electric, then blushed and looked embarrassed at his response. Elizabeth restrained a giggle at the sight.

'I wouldn't have believed the man even knew how to blush!' she thought with glee. Elizabeth sat down in the other chair and waited patiently for him to speak. Romano stared pensively into his coffee for a long time before he finally spoke quietly, "Lizzie, you know me. Probably better than anyone else at that God-forsaken place they call a hospital. You know I've never been very good at expressing my feelings. Positive ones, anyway. Whether I was good at it or not, I've always tried to be honest with you, but there is something I've never told you. I've tried to hold it in, but I can't go on with it any longer. I have to know what you say so I can move on."

Romano still had not looked up at her, and Elizabeth felt a nameless shiver of dread crawl up her spine. She felt suddenly sure that the next words to come from him would somehow change her irreversibly. He finally looked up from his untouched coffee and found her eyes. Elizabeth was stunned by the haunted, desperate look in those chocolate-brown depths.

He hesitated a moment more, but then he blurted, "I love you, Lizzie." Shell-shocked, Elizabeth froze. Her disbelief must have shown, because Robert's face, which had been so open and hopeful just seconds before, crumpled into intense disappointment. He snapped, "All right, Lizzie. I can see how you feel about it."

He stood and headed for the door. Regaining her equilibrium, Elizabeth dashed after him, and caught him at the door with a hand on his shoulder. "Wait, Robert," she said. He stopped without turning back to her, defeat written in the slump of his shoulders, "What is it, Lizzie?"

"Robert, I . . . I value you as a friend, you must know that," she said, desperate to erase the anguish on his face, "But, I . . . I just don't . . ."

"You just don't feel the same way? That's fine," he said quietly, "I understand. Good night, Elizabeth." Then, as suddenly as he had arrived, he was gone.

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AN: *cringes* Was it terrible?