By Didi
Disclaimer: Though the show has been cancelled, (damn those executives) I still cannot claim them as mine. And anyone that even thinks so would be laughed out of the courts. Don't sue; I'm not making any money out of this.
Timeline: Let's just assume this is after the last aired episode. But assume that Nick Kokoris and Rae Brennan are not together. I could not stand the two on the show so I refuse to write anything where they are together. Don't worry; I won't ignore their history already established as the back-story from the show.
Rating: PG-13, I hope that's enough.
Author's Note: You know, the more I write about these two, the more fond of them I become. Is that weird to anyone else but me? Oh and sorry guys, no Nick in this one. And another extremely long chapter that refused to end properly.
Summary: What would you do in the name of love?
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Chapter Six~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Beep. "Julia Keating, if I don't hear from you in the next half an hour, I'm calling the cops. No one in your office can find you. I've left you a dozen messages now. And I'm getting really worried. Call me, NOW!"
Matt winced at the last note of the message. "She sounds concerned."
"What gave you that idea?" Jules asked with a weak smile as she dropped her purse on the end table. "Thanks for the late lunch."
"But you're not grateful enough to tell me what my mother said to you?" he asked, inviting himself to the dish of chocolates on her breakfast table. Sweets and Jules Keating seem to go hand in hand.
"I don't even feel the slightest of urge to talk," she replied with a grin as she picked up the phone. "I'm going to call my sister."
"Go right ahead," he said with a smile and sat down, not the least inclined to leave until he's at least found out who much damage his mother may have done in the short time she was along with Dr. Keating.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that," handing him a coaster. "Drinks are in there. Help yourself."
"Your hospitality overwhelms me."
She grinned as she punch in the speed dial number. Two rings later, "Hello?"
"Jenna, it's…"
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!?" came the screeched demand followed by the crashing of dishes hitting something or other and shattering into a million pieces. "Oh damn it!" Then the phone was dropped, causing a loud enough feedback for Jules to pull the receiver from her ear.
Matt looked up as Jules jerked the phone away from her. "What's the matter?"
Jules shrugged her shoulder with exhausted resignation. "My sister is having a bad day."
Nodding his head in acknowledgement, he went back to search through her near empty cabinets. Seeing her kitchen, one would think she lived on air and water.
"Hold on a second," Jenna called as she fumbled with the phone some more. "Okay," taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Okay, that just means that I have to get new dishes tonight before David comes home."
Jules absentmindedly nodded and sat down by the end table. "How is he?"
"Which one? Kevin or David?"
"Both."
"Kevin is asleep. He seemed to sleep a lot now a days."
"It tires even the strongest of bodies out."
"I can see that," she replied despairingly. "David went to work for a few hours, thought it best to keep some cash flowing into the house."
That startled Jules. She hadn't even thought about finances with everything else to consider. "Do you need…"
"We're fine," Jenna interrupted with a smile. "Saving account still has plenty to see us through. The insurance money from Mom and Dad is being put into good use.
I just thought that David should get out of the house a little so he doesn't drive himself, not to mention me, crazy. Work helps to take his mind off of things."
"I would expect that." She glanced at Matt who pulling out cans of split peas and cream of corn with avid fascination. "And how are you doing, Jenna?"
"Oh, some days are better, some days are worse. But you know that already. How did things go last night?"
"It was pretty horrific if you must know. But nothing I didn't expect when something is huge manages to rear it's ugly…" she frowned. "Hold on a second, Jenna." She walked over to the breakfast counter and leaned over it to see Dr. Slingerland with half his torso in a cabinet. "Matt? What are you doing?"
"Who's Matt?" Jenna asked, suddenly with perkily interested.
"Nobody," Jules answered quickly as she leaned further over, across the counter, "What are you doing down there?"
Jenna laughed, "Down where?"
"Shut up, Jenna," Jules hissed as she poked a finger visible part of Dr. Slingerland's back. She was not about to go any lower… way too suggestive. "Matt?"
"Tell me something, Doctor," Matt said as he backed out from the spacious cabinet with several bags of salted peanuts and cans of Pringles. "Does that word 'nutrition' mean anything to you?"
Grinning, Jules grabbed a can of Pringles. "I was wondering where these went."
He reached over with his long arms and plucked them out of her hands. "These are bad for you."
"But I like them," taking them back.
Taking the chips again, he dropped the peanuts into her hands. "Have these instead."
"What you are? A health nut?"
"I'm a doctor, remember?"
"Like I could forget," rolling her eyes.
"Julia? Are you still here?" buzzed the phone.
"Oh, sorry about that Jenna," Jules replied quickly, giving Matt a glare for his interruption of her conversation with her sister; to which, Matt merely shrugged and went back to his searching of her kitchen. "Just the plumber." That had Matt's head popping back up to give her an annoyed glare; she replied by sticking her tongue out at him and wiggling off the countertop.
"What going on over there, little sister?" Jenna asked, her curiosity more than a little peaked. "Who's over there with you?"
"No one," came the reply as she pulled open the peanuts bag. "So, tell me how you really are?"
"Tired, scared, really want some Ben and Jerry's ice cream right now."
"I can't go anything about the first two but I'm sure there's a delivery office somewhere I can order the ice cream for you from." She dropped the bag of peanuts on the table and ignored them, suddenly having lost all enjoyment of life. She was glad that she hadn't talk to her sister before lunch. "What can I do?"
"Have you had a chance to read the documents we sent you?"
"No. I just got back from the hospital."
"Just now?"
"I had things to do."
"You're working way too hard, girly." Jenna admonished with severity. "You're supposed to be watching your health."
"I'm fine. Stop being such a worry ward," Jules grinned then peeked over at the counter to see Matt popped back up triumphantly with a small canister of ground coffee. He shook it cheerfully at her and pulled the coffee maker toward the sink. She covered the mouth piece, "Don't use the tap, idiot. That water is disgusting."
He glanced at the pot. "Then what exactly do you drink?" Rolling her eyes upward, she pointed a finger at the water dispenser by the door. Matt grinned at her. "Oh."
"And you made it through medical school?" she asked mockingly.
"I haven't slept in almost two days, give a man a little rope," he replied going to fill the pot.
"Okay," Jenna's voice rung into Jules's ears. "There is obviously a man in your apartment and you are obviously not about to give me your undivided attention, so why don't you just hung up on me and call me after you've had a chance to sleep and review the files."
"Jenna…"
"I'm happy for you, Jules. It's been way too long since you've had anyone worthy in your life. Let's hope this one is worthy. Call me later. Love you lots." Then hung up before Jules could get a word in edgewise.
Disgruntled and annoyed, Jules hung up the phone and was tempted to throw it at Matt. "This is all your fault," she yelled at him with a huff.
"So sorry," he answered automatically; then blinked at her obviously confused. "What did I do?"
"You distracted me from a very important conversation."
He nodded his head skeptically. "I thought you were just calling your sister."
"I did call my sister, we were…" she made a face and decided against going into details. "Oh never mind. What are you doing?"
"Making coffee," he pronounced carefully then let out a breath. "I can barely keep my eyes open."
"I don't know why you're making coffee," she said, taking a seat on the high stool. "I'm not drinking it. I'm going to bed for some much deserved sleep."
"Well the coffee isn't for you, luv," Matt replied, reaching out and tweaking her nose gently. "It's for me. So that I may safely drive back to my apartment, sleep and get up in…" he glanced at his watch. "Less then five hours to have a ghastly dinner with me mum and sire."
"Sire?" she repeated with obvious amusement.
He shrugged. "It sounded right in my head."
"Okay," she nodded and got up. "You make your coffee, you drink it with my blessings, and you do whatever you need to do to get you through the night. I am going to bed." Then headed for the bedroom.
"How do I leave?" Matt asked as he watched the dripping coffee.
"Through the door," she answered cheerfully.
"Jules…"
"Just shut the door when you leave," she replied turning around as she got to the bedroom. "I trust you."
That surprised him. "You do?"
"Yes," she replied with more confidence. She hadn't been lying to his mother when she said that she trusted him. He was an intelligent, loyal, good doctor that worked long and hard hours everyday to make a difference. The only thing she didn't trust about him was his reputation with the ladies and his oodles of charisma that he dispenses rather freely among the females. "So don't make me regret it."
"I won't," Matt answered as he watched her go into the bedroom, leaving the door open just a crack. Hum… it charmed and flattered him that she did trust him. It was an endearing trait that he hadn't even realized that he liked to see in a woman.
Waiting for the coffee, he came around into the charmingly homely living room and sat down for a moment. It was nice to know that she trusted him, hadn't even realized that it was kind of important for him to know that she did. There was never any doubt in his mind that he trusted her; plus she's never given him any reason not to. And it was a wonder that she trusted him, after all, he's never given her any reason to. What with going behind her back to talk to her patients, putting her in impossible situations with the stem cell… Now, why in the world would she trust him?
~~~~
The loud thump jarred Jules awake with an alarming velocity. Yanking her light Strawberry Shortcake robe on, she grabbed the stiff, stand up Wily Coyote doll by her door and help it up by its legs like a bat. There was nothing like a good Loony Toons to whack the hell out of a burglar. And she was tired enough and annoyed enough to do so.
But instead of a deviant, she found Dr. Matt Slingerland on the ground in front of her couch; having obviously rolled off while asleep and never even felt a thing.
"Damn sound sleepers," she muttered, tempted to just leave the annoying bastard there and go back to bed. Her head was pounding and she felt as if someone left cotton balls in her mouth. But knowing that she going to have to deal with him soon on the matter of her agreement with his mother, she thought it wiser to stay on his good side. Prodding him with her big toe, "Matt? Matt?"
He made an unintelligible sound and grabbed her foot, almost toppling her on top of him. Catching herself on the sofa, she glanced down to see he was now clutching her foot like a child would a favorite toy. If she wasn't so exhausted, she might have found this funny.
Slipping her foot from his hold, she sat on the couch and looked down on him. "Dr. Slingerland? Wake up," she glanced at the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes to eight o'clock. Not a good sign. "You're going to be late for your dinner with your parents." The prodded him again on the shoulder this time with the balls of her foot, preparing to pull away if he made another grab for it.
"What?" he mumbled and turned onto his back.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," she grinned as he blinked groggily at her.
For a moment, he thought he was dreaming again; a most wonderful dream about a forest, a castle, a fairy princess and golden freckles across an adorably turned up nose that he got to count at his leisure. Then she nudged him with her candy apple red toes again. "Jules?"
"Hey," she said with a smile. "What were you dreaming about to put that kind of smile on your face? Or do I not want to know? And give me the R rated version if it's NC-17."
"NC what?" he asked, coming awake slowly and rather reluctantly. "Is the coffee ready so soon?"
"Coffee?" her frown wrinkled her nose for a moment before she turned to the kitchen questioningly. "Oh, coffee," remembering what he had been doing before she went off to catch a couple of z's. "I think your coffee is more than ready; it's burnt."
"What?" rubbing his eyes and sitting up slowly. "And how did I end up on the floor."
"You fell down," she supplied sweetly.
"Jules…" he blinked at her and came to a dead halt when he saw the clock. "Tell me that clock is wrong."
She glanced at the clock again. "Nope, can't be wrong. It's an atomic clock and runs on batteries that I just change not too long again. It's a wonderful gift from an old pal."
"And it says that it's almost eight."
"Good observation Sherlock," she said getting up. "How about I make more coffee and let you head off to dinner with the parentals."
"Parentals?" he asked distractedly as he continued to stare pathetically at the clock wishing for another two hours so that he could get his head back into the right gear.
"Term for parents that my sister and I used as kids." She dumped the old stale and rather nasty coffee out and began to prepare a new pot. "You might want to get off the floor and straighten up. I'd offer you the shower but you've got no cloths to change into."
He grunted and got up only far enough to sit on the couch. "I feel like a herd of elephants just trampled over me. Why did you have to wake me?"
Rolling her eyes, "I didn't wake you, you woke me when you fell off the couch. Besides, I thought to save you from a whiny phone call when you don't show up for your dinner date with your mother. Quite a woman, that mother of yours."
"Yes she is." Matt agreed whole-heartedly. "And my mother does not whine."
"I was talking about you."
That earned her a good frown. Because he secretly suspected that she could be right, "What are you going to be eating?"
"Pizza," came the easily cheerful answer.
"You're kidding me?" he turned to look at her staring back at him blankly. "You're not kidding me. You have any idea what kind of unhealthy products are on those things?"
"Yes but it beats me trying to cook. That would be asking for food poisoning."
"You can't cook?"
"Not even boil eggs."
"Really?" quite incredulous.
"Afraid so," she grinned, shutting off the coffee maker. "I know what you're thinking right now. 'The poor sap that's marries her is going to starve to death.' Well, I'll have you know what I have a plan."
Amused, "And that is?"
"I'm going to marry a guy that can, and will, cook." She concluded with a proud grin and mugs of coffee in hand.
Matt laughed as he accepted the aromatically magnificent drink from her. "And for your information, that's not what I was thinking."
"Right," she said with laugh.
"I was thinking more along the lines of how ever did you make it through medical school without learning to cook?"
"I was lucky; I had Jenna and I had David."
"David?" latching onto the name that have been put about the hospital lastly in connection to the pediatrician.
"My brother-in-law," she explained sweetly. "Jenna and David dated through high school and college. Jenna was the reason I was able to go to medical school, she did all the housework while I studied."
"What about your parents?"
"Mom and dad died in a car accident my freshman year in college."
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged. "Old news. And you're going to be tomorrow's news if you don't get going, doctor." Pointing toward the clock. "You have less then ten minutes to get to where ever it is your going and still not look like you forgot."
He whimpered and got up, setting the coffee down. "Thanks for the coffee and that nap."
"You know what just occurred to me?" she said as she picked up his jacket and helped him into it. "I never even invited you in. You kind of just barged in here for no apparent reason."
"I had a very good reason," grabbing his keys from her breakfast table.
"Really?" wondering why she was always asking that question of him lately.
"Yep," he grinned as he opened the front door. "I wanted to know what my mother said to you this afternoon."
"Oh yeah."
"And you still haven't said a word."
"And I'm not going to either."
"Jules…"
"Drop it."
"I was going to ask if you'd like to come have dinner with me."
"And your parents?" a little disbelieving.
"Why not?"
"Why not indeed," she repeated dryly. Reflecting on the conversation she had with Mrs. Slingerland only that afternoon, she was hard pressed not to laugh out right. "I don't think so. That's just asking for trouble." She could only imagine the look on his parents' faces if she were to show up with their son, who definitely looked like he hadn't changed into some clean clothes since last night, after just agreeing to disconnect herself from him legally. *Yeah, that's go over real well.*
"What does that mean?" startled by her answer.
"Your mother knows."
"Knows what?"
She raised a brow at him and regarded him with the same expression most used on those that were a little too slow in the solar plexus.
Matt winced painfully. "Oh. So that's what you were talking about this afternoon."
"Among other things," prodding him gently to get him moving.
"Other things?" one foot out the door.
"Good night, Matt," she said and closed the door.
He stared at the knocker for a moment before sighing. "Right." He was going to have to talk to his mother about her interfering ways. *After she gets back to England.*
~~~~
"You're late," George Slingerland admonished the minute he spotted his son looming over the table.
"Good evening to you too, Father," Matt replied calmly as he leaned over the kissed his mother's perfumed cheeks. "Mother."
Millicent's eyes went wide with shock at her son's disheveled state. "Matthew, what have you been…." She closed her mouth quickly, all sorts of rather unpleasant ideas fluttering through her mind. She did not want any of them confirmed.
"Good god, Matthew," George said as he regarded his son with disapproval. "You look like you've slept in your clothes."
"That's possibly because I did," he replied with an apology in his tone and opened his menu. "The lamb looks good."
"I'll be having veal," his mother informed the waitperson who had been standing by patiently. "And some champagne."
"Must you always drink champagne?" George asked quietly.
"Yes," Millicent replied with the same cheery tone she had ordered with. "It's vastly superior to the water here."
"At thirty dollars a pop, I would think so," Matt muttered under his breath. "I'll have the lamb in the red wine sauce, hold the cheese on the potatoes and a glass of red 1988."
"Brand sir?" the waiter asked politely.
"Whatever is good," Matt said tiredly.
"Very good," the waiter said with a nod and turned to the elder Slingerland. "And you sir?"
"Salmon, beans only and the 1992 chardonnay."
"Thank you, sir," taking the menus and disappearing, as waiters were wont to do.
Millicent let a moment of silence pass before asking, "What were you doing, dear that kept you from being able to change into something at least wrinkle free."
"I was sleeping," Matt answered honestly. "A very necessary human function."
"There is no need to be sarcastic," George replied. "And while we wait, I have some documents that needs some signatures from you."
"My signatures," taking a quick sip of the iced water on the table. Jules wasn't kidding when she said she couldn't cook. Even her coffee was pretty damn bad; left an after taste like the underside of his shoes. "Whatever for?"
"I'm putting my estate in order," came the smooth reply.
"Now?" a little disbelieving. "Whyr?"
"I'm not getting any younger, Matthew," George Slingerland explained in that well cultivated tone he used in the boardroom. "You are my only heir. I would think that it be obvious that I want to make sure you are well provided for when your mother and I are gone."
"Since you're in the prime of your life and Mother as the constitution of an oxen," to which Mrs. Slingerland made many bristling noises to, "This isn't something you need to be worry about."
"Accidents happen," Geroge replied.
Matt frowned at him. "You're simply a ray of sunshine today, aren't you father? What's brought this on?" then something occurred to him. "Are you ill?"
"Nonsense," George waved the spark of concern in his son's face away. "I'm as healthy as the day I was born. This is merely a precaution."
When it appeared that Matthew was about to press the point, Millicent decided that it was time to play. "Matthew, dearest. Your father and I are merely concerned that you're job has been rather pressing. We want to provide you with all the comforts that your father never had as a young man. It would bring us much comfort to know that we need not worry about you in the afterlife."
Since he wasn't always sure what his mother was talking about, and this was a prime example, Matt gave in. "All right. If it'll bring you two a bit of peace, I'll sign whatever it is Father wants of me."
"Good," George said as he pulled out a stack of blue backed documents two inches thick and set it in front of Matthew. "All the pages are tagged."
Staring at the monstrosity in front of him, "I can see that." He sighed and grabbed the old fashion blue fountain pen his father held out for him. "Thank you," and began flip pages and signing where the little red tags pointed. Lines and lines of legal mumbo jumbo flashed across the pages and blurred his vision as he placed his signature on more pages.
"Your wine, sir," the waiter informed Dr. Slingerland just before he sat a glass of red wine down.
"Thank you," Matt replied looking up to clear his vision. "What is all of this, anyways?"
"Some transfer forms, some power of attorney forms, some stock exchange forms, fiduciary agreements," George answered breezily. "Hum… this is a very good year."
"Try this, dear," Millicent handed over her own flute to her son. "It will help clear you head."
"Not on an empty stomach, thank you mother," he shrewdly declined. Flipping more pages, he began to sign more documents as his parents began a light chatter while keeping an eye on their son. Slingerland was half way through the stack and about to put his name on yet another page when the words 'child support' sudden popped into his line of sight. "What's this?" curiosity got the better of him as he unsettled several documents to pull out the stack of stapled papers out. "What is this?"
The bold blocky letters spelling Parental Rights Termination Agreement sat dead center on the first page; which had been conveniently buried under several other documents. Matt's eyes scanned the contents quickly and efficiently, taking in the damning words and hanging onto his temper by a thread.
Looking up, he made an effort to calm himself and allow doubt to enter in mind though the evidence was clear enough before him. "You want to tell me what this is about?"
Millicent looked to her husband, knowing that they were about to be treated to a spectacle. "Perhaps we should…"
"I would think it is pretty obvious what that is," George replied, not quite as astute as his wife when it came to the observation of their son.
Mentally counting to ten, Matt said through clinched teeth, "You had no right."
"Of course I do," George snapped, irritated over what he perceived as Matt's stubbornness. "As a parent, I have a right to protect my child and his investments and act to see to his best interests."
"Now, now…" Millicent began, trying to cut short what she could tell was going to be a royal roll between father and son. "Let us all just simply…"
"I'm not a five year old that needs his daddy to hold his hand crossing the streets," Matt replied sharply, his eyes practically shooting poison. "Not that you were ever there when I was a child. You were always half way across the world."
"Need I remind you that you had the finest education and privileges that most could never dream of because I was 'half way across the world,' as you call it."
"I never asked for that."
"A child should not have to." George bit back.
There was nothing Matt could say to that little piece of angry wisdom. But there were other lines of attack. "And did you even consider how hurt Jules will be when she receives this? She and I are friends. We don't need a bloody piece of paper to dedicate our…."
"She suggested it." George barked back.
"She what?" Stunning Slingerland.
"Well," Millicent interrupted, needing to bring down their voice, which was both climbing alarmingly high in volume. The other patrons of the chic French restaurant was already turning their heads. "Actually, she didn't. Dr. Keating merely agreed to sign the papers, after her attorneys reviewed it of course."
Both Slingerland men turned to stare at her for a moment.
George's brows came down fiercely. "That's not what you said this afternoon."
"Well, I…"
Matt's shook his head and dropped his napkin onto the plate in front of him. "That's what you two were talking about in her office today?"
"Well…" not sure what to say to that deathly calm tone Matthew's voice had taken. "Dearest, where are you going?"
"I'm leaving," Matt replied pulling his wallet out and dropping several bills on the table as he usually does and snatching up the rest of the documents, including the damn agreement. "I'll take the rest of these with me and review them at my leisure. I'm assuming you're using Richard Cunningham as your attorney so I will forward the signed copies to him when they're ready. In the meantime, have a safe trip home." And turned to leave.
"Matthew," Millicent called after him. "Please…"
He pinned his mother with eyes that were hot with continued flames of fury. "The last thing you want to be doing, Mother, is sit at a table with me right now." He leaned closer, "You almost had me give up all rights to my own flesh and blood. You were going to allow Jules the power to keep me from my child if she so desires. I would have no say in anything that happens. Have you any idea as to the consequences of what you were doing to me?" he twisted around and left before he could break at the sight of his mother's tears.
It was the first time Matt Slingerland had ever lost his temper with his mother and it was a sight to behold. Millicent could do nothing as she watched her child strode away from the table, never once looking back.
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To be continued….