A/N: this is the sequel to Losing a life, saving a soul, and is definitely rated eighteen!
Do Unto Others
A couple of weeks after Christmas, after the horrific explosion that had ripped lives and bricks from their rightful places, Connie was beginning to think that things were getting back to normal. The building work was well underway, and those who had died had been suitably mourned and remembered. Connie knew that she was still suffering a certain amount of post traumatic stress, which meant that everyone else involved probably was as well. Donna had been different since that night, seeming to have abandoned her perpetual pursuit of pleasure in a flash. Rosie was still refusing to have anything to do with Mubbs, and Connie had to wonder just how much of that was her fault. But, what was done was done, and Connie could no more alter the things she'd said, than she could bring either Jim or Alistair back from the dead. She knew that Ric had been trying to comfort her over the last couple of weeks, but she hadn't been able to let him get remotely close to her. She needed to deal with this on her own, though she was forced to admit that she was missing his company. It scared her sometimes that she'd told him so much about herself, that she'd let him in so far, and she would occasionally find herself wishing she hadn't. She longed to just go up to him and feel his arms around her, but the longer she left it, the more she was afraid of doing it. She kept mulling over this little quandary as she sat at her computer, writing up reports, answering e-mails, and generally catching up on the household tasks of being Medical Director.
When she found herself staring into space for the third time in twenty minutes, she rose resignedly to her feet. Enough was enough, she needed to talk to Ric, and she was going to do it now. Strolling purposefully out of her office, Connie was accosted by Will. "Connie, can you look at an X/ray for me and give me your opinion?" "Mr. Curtis," Connie said tiredly. "You are perfectly capable of interpreting an X-ray. I'm sure you don't actually require me to hold your hand while you do it." As she walked away from him towards Ric's office, Will raised his eyes to heaven, and at Chrissie's enquiring look, he said, "She whinges when I don't ask her opinion, then she whinges when I do." "Still afraid of the big, bad wolf, I see," Chrissie replied with a smirk. Hearing this, Connie grinned broadly. She'd been described as many things during her career, but the big, bad wolf wasn't one of them. Knocking on Ric's office door, she schooled her face back into the serious expression that was warranted for the coming conversation.
Ric had been worried about Connie, ever since the night of the fire. He'd thought she would try to push him away, wanting to deal with her own feelings in her own way, and he'd been right. She was afraid of showing him her vulnerabilities, and he was at a loss as to how to make her do so. But when the knock came on his office door, and she poked her head round, he smiled. "Can I come in?" She asked, wanting any excuse possible not to have to go through with this. "Of course," He said, seeing all too clearly that she was incredibly nervous about something. When she'd closed the door behind her, she simply stood watching him for a moment. "Is this professional, or personal?" He gently prompted her. "Personal," She eventually replied, seeming to have decided to take the bull by the horns. "Can we talk?" "Yes," He said quietly, getting up from behind his desk and walking over to her. Taking her hand, he led her over to the slightly battered sofa where they'd first made love. When they were sitting close together, she took both his hands in hers, gently chafing them back and forth as she brought out what she wanted to say. "I'm sorry I've been pushing you away. I didn't mean too, and I know that you've only been trying to help me, but it seemed like the best thing to do. I'm not coping very well with the after effects of what happened, and I know that I'm the last person to acknowledge it. I wouldn't have got out of there alive if it wasn't for you, and I suppose I just wanted you to know that I will never forget that." Connie had said more than she'd meant to, and here she stopped, feeling a little foolish for her outburst. Turning her face towards him, Ric locked his gaze with hers, seeing all the uncertainty and need in her, that he thought might have been gone from him forever. "You don't have to give me any speeches," He said softly. "I would have done anything to get you out of there, and I would again. I know that showing your feelings isn't something you're used to doing, and I also know that every time you remember it, you are sincerely regretting telling me what you told me before Christmas. I've been trying to let you deal with everything in your own way, because I know that you loathe to be stifled. But I am here, and I won't be going anywhere." She didn't know how to put into words the surge of combined gratitude and affection that filled her then, wanting to prolong the feeling forever. When she kissed him, his arms went instinctively round her, holding her as close to him as possible, saying in this one gesture just how much he'd feared to lose her. "So, exactly how aren't you coping?" He asked into her hair. "Oh, it's nothing major," She said offhandedly, hoping that he wouldn't probe too far. "I'll get over it." "Hey," He said gently. "You've come this far, so keep on going." "I'm not sleeping too brilliantly, that's all," She replied, and he could tell that this was a vast understatement of the truth. "Are you dreaming about the fire?" He asked, thinking that this was probably the root of the problem. "Sometimes," She said noncommittally. "It could be worse." Before Ric could answer, there came a knock on the door. Not altering their position in the slightest, Ric bade the person to enter. It was Tricia. "Sorry," She said, not batting an eyelid at their closeness. "But there's someone here to see you, Connie. I've put him in your office." "Might this person have a name?" Connie asked, not willing to move out of Ric's arms for just anyone. At Tricia's look of floundering hesitation, Ric nudged Connie's shoulder. "Go on," He said, pushing her gently away from him. "Whoever it is, I'm obviously not supposed to know. So, go and put Tricia out of her misery." When Connie joined Tricia and they began walking down the corridor, Tricia said, "I'm sorry about that, but he said that he didn't want Ric to know he was here." "Oh, no," Connie said quietly, a niggling suspicion creeping into her awareness. "Professor Kahn by any chance?" "I thought he'd got a job in Paris," Tricia said in reply. "And why wouldn't he want Ric to know he was here?" "Your guess is as good as mine, Tricia," Connie said bleakly. "But until I've discovered what this is about, I'd appreciate it if you could keep it to yourself." "You have my word," Tricia said with a wide smile, as she walked back to the nurse's station.
When Connie walked into her office, Zubin was casually looking at what was on her computer screen, which was the estimated damage and cost of refurbishing the intensive care unit. "Oh, yes," Connie said dryly, closing the door behind her and lowering the blinds to keep out unwanted eyes. "Do feel free to invade my space." "I'm just seeing what sort of a mess was made of my old patch, that's all," Zubin said mildly. "Why not go downstairs and take a look at the real thing," Connie told him as he moved away from her desk and she reclaimed her chair. "Now, as I wouldn't want to waste my time any longer than necessary, precisely what are you doing here? Might it be to check up on an old friend? But no, I'd forgotten, you don't put much value in friendship, do you. Or would I be more right in suggesting, that you came back for something else you left behind?" "How is he?" Zubin asked, sitting in the chair across from her, knowing she was right, but unwilling to acknowledge the point. "Oh, he's just fine," Connie said disgustedly. "Let's see, first he loses a friend who didn't have the guts to stick around when he fell off the wagon. Second, his daughter can hardly bear to be in the same room as him, for fear she might give away her secret, and third, he had to watch a former colleague die a couple of weeks ago. So, as you will gather, Ric is finding it extremely difficult to stay away from the roulette wheel at the moment. He is managing it, but only just." "Helped very much by you, no doubt," Zubin said in a nutshell. "Where possible, yes," Connie replied, for the moment skirting over the last couple of weeks. "So, again, I repeat, what are you doing here, Professor Kahn?" "I received a call from Jess," Zubin told her slowly. "It seems she's pregnant." "Oh, give me strength," Connie said irritatedly. "You really are pathetic. You're a doctor, for god's sake, and she's a nurse. Couldn't either of you just spare the tiniest consideration for consequences? What happened? Did the thought of sleeping with someone without paying for it temporarily addle your brain?" "Oh, and I'm sure you've never done anything in the heat of the moment," Zubin replied caustically. "Don't be so bloody adolescent," Connie shouted at him, banging her hand down on the desk and making her pens rattle. "Well, you really have got yourself in good and proper, haven't you. So, tell me, was filling a certain slot in your midlife crisis really worth it? Or have you since discovered that Jess Griffin is still a silly little girl, living in the land of fifteen-year-old idealism." Rising swiftly to his feet, Zubin leaned over the desk towards her. "Don't you ever talk about Jess like that again," He hissed at her. "I hardly think Ric would appreciate it, do you?" Also getting to her feet, Connie was almost nose to nose with him. "And don't you come here, tell me all this trivial, soap opera melodrama, and expect me to break the news to the expectant grandfather for you. You were the one who dipped your wick once too often, so you can deal with the consequences, one of which will be explaining your actions to her father. Now, get out," she said icily, gesturing with an unwavering forefinger towards the door. Seeing that he wasn't going to get any further, Zubin turned on his heel and left.
Connie stood in her office doorway, watching him stride purposefully towards the nurse's station, his back stiff and straight. But when she saw Jess appear from the direction of the lift, and Ric from the direction of his office, she groaned. No, this absolutely shouldn't be happening now! "Zubin!" Ric said in astonishment as he caught up with him. "What are you doing here?" "Just thought I'd pay you a visit," Zubin said lamely. "Oh, any special reason?" Ric asked, seeing that there was more to this than met the eye. "He's got something to tell you, Dad, we both have," Jess put in. Don't you dare do this here, Connie thought to herself, as she watched the unfolding seen from the sideline of the entrance to her office. "What?" Ric enquired, not liking the seriousness of Jess's tone. "Let's not do this here," Zubin said placatingly, not wanting his private life to become hospital gossip. "No, come on," Ric insisted. "I want to know." "I'm pregnant," Jess told him, oblivious of the watching nurses and registrars. "And Zubin's the father." From where she stood, Connie could see the progression of feelings across Ric's face. It began with confusion, then realisation, then horror, and finally anger. "Please tell me you're joking," He said quietly into the stunned, appalled silence, and Connie was further disgusted at Zubin's inability to come to his own defence. "No, we're not," Jess replied quietly. "What the hell were you thinking of!" Ric all but roared at his one time friend. Connie hadn't ever heard him shout before, and it vaguely frightened her to see such volatility aimed at another human being. "Ric, I..." Zubin began. "Don't," Ric interrupted venomously. "I don't want to hear any of your pathetic excuses. This is my daughter, Zubin, not one of your prostitutes whom you can discard like the proverbial French letter, that you obviously forgot to use." Connie suppressed a smile. "That's why you left, isn't it, because you knew I'd come after you, and beat the living daylights out of you if I found out. So, when did this little bundle of laughs take place?" He demanded, gesturing at Jess's still flat stomach, and again, it was Jess who supplied the answers. "It was when you were in Paris." This time, a short, sharp look of hurt came over Ric's face, as he realised that this was why Zubin hadn't been all that supportive over him having gambled. Had Jess been there, he thought, had she been there in the hotel with Zubin? She must have been. When Ric put two and two together, and realised that they'd done this, right under his very nose, he exploded. In a lightning flash, he had Zubin pinned up against the wall, and was lifting a fist to crash into Zubin's face. With equally rapid reflexes, Connie leapt forward, barely knowing how she made it down the corridor in time, and grabbed Ric's fist before he could smash it into Zubin's nose. "don't you dare even think of doing that. Take your petty, adolescent squabbles to the nearest playground if you must, but I will not have such a display of testosterone-fuelled behaviour in my hospital. Is that clear?" Every person, staff and patients alike, heard every word of this diatribe. "But Connie..." Ric tried to protest. "Shut up," She hissed at him. "And go and cool off somewhere." When Ric had silently slunk away, feeling smaller than a bug she might crush underfoot, Zubin turned to Connie in relief. "Thank you," He said, not quite knowing why she'd done that. "Don't think I did that for either of you," Connie told him stonily. "And rest assured, Professor Kahn," She added very quietly, holding the knot of his tie in her hand as if to strangle him. "If I didn't currently have more witnesses than I am prepared to bribe, I would happily finish the job myself. Now, I am only going to say this once. Get yourself out of this hospital, and as far away from here as possible. If you value your professional reputation, which may be the only one you have left, I suggest you don't attempt to come near either Ric or myself again. Don't argue," She said, when he took a breath to do just that. "Just go." When Zubin too walked away, Jess began to follow him. "Nurse Griffin," Connie said firmly. "I want a word." Turning on her heel, Connie strode back to her office, rightly assuming that Jess would follow her.
Once there, Connie closed the door, and Jess was forced to wonder if she was about to lose her job. "Well, I do hope you're proud of your, achievement," Connie began, pouring a bucket load of scorn on the word achievement. "I don't really see what this has to do with you, Connie," Jess said carefully, all too aware that she had her job, if not her life in her hands. "Oh, really," Connie said scathingly. "Well, let me tell you, that anything, and I mean anything, that hurts your father in any way, has everything in the world to do with me. Do you understand?" Jess gaped at her. "What," Connie continued silkily. "Does the possibility of a mature, adult relationship confuse you? That's what you thought you would find with Professor Kahn, didn't you. Or should I say godfather Zubin. Tell me, do you have any idea why your father felt as wretched as he did after he came back from Paris?" Jess stayed silent. "While he was over there, he gambled, something he hadn't done for all of ten months, and do you know why he gambled? Because he felt as though he was losing the one, real friend he'd always had. We both know why Professor Kahn decided to leave for the Paris Institute, don't we, because of you, and because of a stupid, short-term infatuation. But in giving Zubin a reason to leave here, you took away the one support mechanism Ric had. You did that, both of you did." As the full impact of what she'd done to her father began to sink in, Jess's eyes took on a look that was half haunted, half-defiant. Stepping closer to Jess, Connie laid a hand on her shoulder and critically examined her still slightly immature face. "I do hope your foray into the entrapment of men old enough to be your father was worth it," She said very quietly, but with an edge of steel. "Because now it's time you began facing up to the souvenir you brought back from your little Parisian rendezvous. Are you looking forward to growing up, Nurse Griffin? Because I can assure you, it's going to be a bumpy ride." Turning Jess away from her, Connie opened the door, and gestured for her to leave.
When Jess had gone, Connie closed the door, and took a moment to gather her thoughts. What had been mostly a fairly quiet day, had suddenly turned into the mother of all fiascoes. It was nearly six in the evening, she'd done three operations today, not to mention tackled a mountain of paperwork, and all she really wanted to do was to go home and relax. But in the space of half an hour, Jess and Zubin between them had shattered such a wish. If she didn't do something to stop him, Ric would probably head for the nearest casino, and blow an enormous amount of money that he simply didn't have. Fighting the urge to sink down on her leather sofa and sleep, Connie left her office in search of Ric. On the one occasion that she'd completely lost it, over the baby she hadn't been able to save in theatre, he'd been there for her, listening, comforting, and generally supporting her. Now, it was Ric who was facing a crisis, and only she could pull him out. After being told by a far too knowing Chrissie that Ric had retreated to his office, Connie approached the door with caution. If he really was intent on gambling, this was where he could put that desperate need into action. All he needed was an internet connection and his switch card. So as not to alert him to her presence, Connie didn't knock. Gently easing the door open, she shut it quietly behind her. There he was, sat at the computer with his back to her. His desk, like hers, was an L shape, with the computer on one half, and scattered reports, X-rays, and other random medical paraphernalia on the other. As Connie crossed the room, he paid no attention to her. She could hear the click of the mouse, and could feel the crackling charge of anticipation in the air. Reaching the back of his chair without his yet becoming aware of her, she reached over his shoulder, and swiftly removed the mouse from his hand. Looking up at her with a mixture of anger and irritation, Ric tried to take it back. Taking his outstretched hand in her other one, Connie held onto it whilst she looked at what was on the screen. There he was right where she'd thought he would be, about to click on the icon that would probably empty his bank account, if he had anything in it in the first place. Sure enough, there was his switch card on the desk by the keyboard, where he could easily glance down at the numbers. Flicking back through the internet pages he'd visited in the last few minutes, Connie was heartily relieved to see that this would have been his first gamble. He hadn't yet begun on that frightening spiral of descent. Closing Internet Explorer completely, Connie perched on the edge of the other part of his desk, and as she still had hold of one of his hands, she turned him to face her. "Well," She said, hitching up her skirt slightly as she got comfortable. "It looks as though I arrived just in time." Ric just watched her, not having the faintest idea of what he could say to her. She'd caught him well and truly in the act. She'd caught him in as compromising a position, as if he'd had the needle poised to push into his arm. She could feel the tension in his right hand, as she held it in her left, the muscles almost throbbing with electricity. Sliding her index finger down over his wrist and resting it against his radial artery, she could feel that his pulse was strong, but racing. She watched as his eyes kept flicking back and forth between her face and the computer monitor, obviously desperate to get back to what he'd been doing. Stretching out her right hand, Connie switched the monitor off, removing the main focus of his attention. But even now, his eyes couldn't stop moving, first over her and what she was wearing, then to the blank computer screen, then to his switch card on the desk, and back to her again. There was a fire in his eyes, a light that she'd only ever seen when he was intensely aroused. His body was like a coiled spring, almost trembling with the craving to gamble. Reaching for his other hand that had been lying in his lap, she held both his hands on her knees, crossing her ankles to, for the moment, keep them together. She knew she had to tread extremely carefully with him at this moment, but she wasn't willing to simply leave matters to take their course.
"Are you going to talk to me?" She asked quietly, not wanting to startle him. "What's there to say?" He said eventually, with even his voice bearing the traces of his heightened craving. "Tell me why you want to gamble?" She asked him gently, all the while chafing the tension out of his hands. He flinched at the word gamble, even though he knew this was what he'd been about to do. "What's up, Ric?" She taunted silkily, trying to provoke a reaction out of him. "Is it too much of a risk to tell me how you feel? I thought that's what you liked, the danger of possibly losing, or is a certain amount of emotional detachment too high a stake for you?" He gripped her hands when she said this, as if trying to halt her in her tracks. "Just tell me one thing," He said a little icily. "Did you know?" "Did I know what?" She asked, trying to buy herself some time. "Don't play dumb with me, Connie," He said stonily. "It doesn't suit you." "Yes, I did know, or at least I knew there was something between them," She told him, looking him straight in the face, trying not to back away from the anger she could see there. "I certainly didn't know the details of what happened in Paris, and I definitely didn't know Jess was pregnant, not until today." "How long have you known?" "Since august," She told him regretfully. "You remember the day we did that thing for the Olympics? I..." She hesitated, knowing that he wouldn't want to hear this, but that he had to hear it. "...I saw him kiss her." "So, why didn't you tell me?" "It was absolutely none of my business, Ric," She insisted, carefully skirting over the fact that she'd used what she'd seen, to blackmail Zubin into co-operating with her over the Working Time Directive. "And you still haven't answered my question," Connie reminded him. "I understand that you're feeling angry, and I understand that you're extremely worried for Jess. But why does that make you want to gamble?" "Because it's an outlet," He said almost furiously, hating the fact that she was doing this therapy routine on him. "It's like cutting, or crying, or screwing someone senseless, or beating Zubin black and blue, which is precisely what I should be doing, and would be if you hadn't stopped me." "And which would have achieved what, exactly?" She asked. "Well, it might have taut him a lesson if nothing else." "And given that I'm not going to allow you the opportunity to teach him that lesson," Connie continued. "Tell me why you wouldn't consider any of the other similar alternatives you suggested." Ric frowned at her as if she was stupid. "First, because I have no desire to begin mutilating myself. Second, because crying is what occasionally comes afterwards, and third, because sleeping with someone just isn't an option." "Oh?" Connie said thoughtfully. "I'd have thought it was the perfect solution." Still keeping hold of his hands, she moved them a little further up her thighs. When he realised what she was up to, he swiftly removed them from her grasp, and backed the swivel chair away from her. "No way, Connie," He said, looking almost afraid of the prospect. "Why?" She asked, and as her hands were no longer occupied, she leaned slightly back on them, giving him the best view possible of her high, full breasts. "Because I don't want to hurt you," Ric said quietly, feeling a combination of pain and horror that he would ever do such a thing to her.
Before Connie could process this little statement, there came a knock on the door. Neither of them answered, and when Diane put her head in, Connie asked, "Do you want something, Miss Lloyd?" "A word actually, Connie," Diane replied, slightly irked by the tone of Connie's question. Sliding languorously off the desk, and thinking that Diane really needed to pick her timing with more care, Connie first switched off the computer, and half way to the door, returned and casually removed Ric's switch card from the desk. She didn't want him to have any excuse to try and gamble whilst she was gone. Walking out of the office, she closed the door behind her, and walked a little way up the corridor, far enough away so that Ric wouldn't be able to hear what she might say. Diane saw her slip the card into the pocket of her skirt, and it angered her that Connie could be so free and easy with Ric's belongings. "Is he all right?" Diane eventually asked, thinking that this was as good a place to start. "No, of course he isn't," Connie told her scathingly. "Then might I suggest that you should leave this to those who know him better?" Diane put in carefully. "Seeing as you think you know him so well," Connie replied, removing the switch card from her pocket and waving it under Diane's nose. "What do you suppose, he was about to do with this when I found him?" "Oh, you're joking," Diane said in dawning realisation. "I thought he'd got over all that." "Oh, grow up, Diane," Connie said in total disgust. "You're a doctor, which means you'll know that addictions don't simply go away. Even if addicts manage to curtail their habit for a significant amount of time, they still need encouragement and support, two things that have been distinctly lacking where Ric is concerned." "I don't suppose you know what he was like when he was gambling regularly, do you, seeing as you weren't here then," Diane said icily. "But he was an absolute nightmare. It was like watching a car crash happening in slow motion. Me, Zubin, Jess, we tried everything to get him to stop, but when he casually borrowed my credit card, I had to say enough was enough." "Diane, I'm not saying that what he did wasn't wrong," Connie said placatingly. "But you didn't help the situation by giving him that temptation in the first place. It would have been like giving Tom Campbell-Gore a bottle of scotch and expecting him not to taste it. But after Ric did that to you, he didn't gamble for ten months. Ten months, Diane, which was an enormous achievement for him. But did any of you notice? Not a single one. You've been so wrapped up in your relationship with Owen, and no, I'm not criticising you for that, but it's meant that you've lost sight of how much Ric will always need his friends." Connie's tone had become gentler, because she had no wish to alienate Diane altogether. "I'm just asking you to remember that sometimes, that's all." "What can I do?" Diane asked, feeling unbearably guilty that she hadn't seen what was going on under her nose. "Just remind him that you're there for him, if he wants you to be," Connie told her, laying a hand briefly on her shoulder.
When Connie returned to Ric's office, he had switched on the computer again, and was drumming his fingers on the desk, waiting for it to wake up. Connie had purposefully switched it off without going through the shut down process, because she knew that if he turned it back on after she left, he would have to wait for it to go through scan disk before he could do anything. Dropping his card back on the desk, Connie switched the computer off again, determined not to lose his attention. "I believe we were in the middle of something," She said, gently playing with a strand of his hair. "Connie, why are you doing this?" He asked, wanting to feel her close to him, but not really knowing how to ask. "Because you need me to do this," She answered him simply. "I don't deserve it," He said dully. "Yes, you do," She said softly. As she moved to put her arms round him, he pulled her carefully down onto his knee. "You'll break the chair if you're not careful," She said with a smile. "Connie," He said slowly, gently stroking her cheek. "I am so, furious at what Zubin has done, that if I slept with you to get this urge to gamble out of my system, I would probably end up taking it out on you, and I have absolutely no intention of doing that. Whenever I've slept with you, including the time in this very office, it's been the most incredible thing I've felt in a long time, and I don't want to ruin that." "Who says you would?" Connie asked him, determined to persuade him to give in. "I can't take that risk with you, Connie. I wouldn't want to take it with anyone, but especially not with you." "I've had rough sex before, Ric, if that's what's bothering you," She said with a smile. "And did you enjoy it?" He asked her seriously. "No, not really," She was forced to admit. "But that was because it was with a perfect stranger, and it scared me." "And what makes you think you would feel any different with me?" "Because I know that you wouldn't intentionally hurt me." Her answer was so honest, so unprompted, that it provoked a surge of pure gratitude from him. "Ric, listen to me," She continued, thinking she might have discovered the crack in his armour. "You want to exchange the adrenaline caused by your anger, for that caused by the risk of either winning or losing. All I'm asking you to do is to exchange the anger, or at least work off the anger, by taking what you know I can give you. I am totally at a loss as to how to help you get passed this in any other way, and that isn't something I admit lightly." "But what if I do hurt you?" He asked, wanting her to be absolutely sure of what she was getting into. "I won't break, you know," She said with a small laugh. "I'm serious, Connie," He persisted. "If you do, you do, it doesn't matter. You need to do this, Ric. Somehow, you need to get all of this anger and tension out of your system, and it looks as though I'm the only option you have." "Can I apologise in advance?" He said as he kissed her, feeling every one of her delicious curves as she nestled against him. "Feel free," She said between kisses. "But I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think I could handle it. Okay?" "Okay," He said eventually, finally bowing down to her determination to succeed.
When they left his office a few minutes later, they walked towards the nurse's station, Ric sliding his switch card back into his wallet. Suddenly getting an idea that she simply couldn't resist, Connie told him to wait for her. Going into her office, she closed the door, and with the blinds still down, she swiftly removed her knickers and dropped them in her handbag. Returning with her bag and coat, she saw that Diane was talking to Ric. Diane had approached him as soon as Connie had briefly left him, wanting a word with him not in her presence. "Hey," She said, going up to him and giving him a hug, not something she'd done in a long time. "Are you all right?" "No, not really," He said into her hair. "But I will be." "I'm sorry," She said slowly. "If it feels like I've abandoned you over the last few months. I might be marrying Owen in the not too distant future, but that doesn't mean I don't still care about you." Ric could tell a mile off that she'd had a little pep talk from Connie, but he didn't say so, for the moment happy to be grateful for her sympathy. "Jess will be all right, you know," Diane assured him. "She wasn't after Alex Adams did the deed, so I won't hold out any hope this time." "Connie certainly did a number on Zubin," Diane said in awe. "She virtually threatened to give him a beating for you." "Yes, so I heard," Ric said sardonically. "Ric, you and Connie, are you...?" Diane didn't know how to phrase it. "Something like that," Ric told her. "But keep it to yourself for now. Mindless gossip is the last thing either of us needs. Anyway, it's nearly seven o'clock on a Friday night, which means that you should be at home, cooking Owen's tea. So go on, and I'll see you on Monday, barring any disasters." "Just take care," Diane said, detaching herself from him and hoping that Connie would look after him.
Connie put a CD on when they were in the car, knowing that they would be sitting through interminable traffic jams in the centre of Holby. "What's this?" Ric asked, not recognising it. "Tori Amos, Scarlett's Walk," She told him. "Michael bought it for me for Christmas." The first couple of songs seemed to lift both their spirits, giving them both a feeling of anticipation of what was to come. As she waited outside Ric's apartment while he picked up some clothes, Connie leaned over to the backseat to retrieve her jacket. Then, under cover of the darkness, she hitched up the front of her skirt to the top of her thighs, covering her lack of modesty with the jacket. She'd always been open to the idea of being with Ric at his place instead of hers, but he'd said that he hated his bedsit and that he didn't want her to see it. Connie knew that in comparison to her beautiful house, it would seem unbearably inferior to him, so she didn't push the point. When Ric got back in the car, he raised an eyebrow at the jacket spread over her lap but made no comment. As he tried to rub some warmth back into his hands, she took one of them and said, "I can think of a far more satisfying way of doing that," And taking his hand, she led it under her jacket and between her deliciously warm thighs. "Connie Beauchamp, you really are insatiable," He said in a low, deep drawl, as she rubbed her thighs together with his hand between them. "And I thought that's what you liked about me," She said seductively. "Are you sure you can drive with me doing this?" "You leave the driving to me, and we'll get along just fine." When he realised she wasn't wearing any underwear he said, "You do realise that now I'm going to be tortured, with thoughts of you walking round with instant access at my disposal." "Well, it should help to brighten up your day," She said with a smirk. As they drove through the overpopulated streets, Tori Amos filling the car with her haunting melodies, Ric's right hand lingeringly stroked and teased her, and when she altered her position slightly, slipped a finger delicately inside her, to feel her supple, internal walls gripping him. There was an expression of curious detachment on her face, as she kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead, but which twitched with a smile of pure contentment every now and then. Christ, he thought in wonder, she was so warm down there, as hot and wet as the tropics in the right season. "You're practically dripping," He murmured in that gravelly tone that turned her on so much. "And are you surprised?" She countered back, her voice as soft and inviting as the place his fingers were now inhabiting. "And I see that you're begging to be released," She said, briefly laying her left hand over the bulge in his trousers, before returning it to the gearstick. When she smiled wickedly at two policemen in a car going in the opposite direction, he said, "Are you trying to get me done for committing an indecent act in public?" "Trust me," She said a little unsteadily. "There is nothing remotely indecent about what you're doing right now." When they drew up somewhat haphazardly in her driveway, Ric gently removed his hand from between her thighs, and before her wide-eyed gaze, he ran two glistening fingers across her lips. So as not to be outdone in the realm of providing surprises, Connie held his hand in place, and with generous swipes of her tongue and further encouragement from her lips, removed every bit of herself from his fingers. "Now that really is the ultimate in sexual ego," He said when she'd done this. "Yes, isn't it just," She said, leaning forward to kiss him, and to share her taste with him. "Connie, are you sure you're ready for this?" He asked, needing to know just once more. "I shall be bitterly disappointed, Mr. Griffin, if you don't, what was it, oh yes, screw me senseless was what I think you said. So, get out of this car, get in that house, and be ready to do your worst, and be warned, I will not tell you again." As he got out of the car, and she shortly followed, he thought that if this was how she spoke to Will Curtis, he didn't know what the man had to complain about.
As soon as the front door was closed behind them, his hands were on her. She could feel his urgency in every movement and it excited her. Yes, he'd always wanted her, always been immensely aroused and gratified to have her body in his hands, but this was different. It was so intense, that if she hadn't known him as well as she did, it would have frightened her. She matched his frenzy as they moved slowly up the stairs, casting clothes aside as they went and leaving them where they landed. Connie knew that Michael was out, but she wouldn't have cared in the least if he'd come back right this minute with a whole horde of his colleagues. "Tell me how much you want this," She urged as they crossed the landing. "I want you so much," He told her. "That you're not going to be capable of walking afterwards." "Promises promises, Mr. Griffin," She teased, hoping to spur him onto even further endeavour. As they stumbled into her bedroom, both of them naked by this time, Connie flicked the light onto its dimmest setting, and as they moved towards the bed, she picked up the remote control from the bedside table, and switched on whichever CD happened to be in the small stereo she had on her dressing-table. They couldn't remember which of them threw the duvet aside, but as they fell on the bed in a delicious tangle of arms and legs, Connie thought that this was about to be the best she'd ever had. Before he could move over her, she briefly detached herself from him and, lowering her head, delicately swiped her tongue over the tip of his positively enormous manhood, vaguely wondering if she really could accommodate him. When he felt her take in the drop of moisture at his tip, Ric groaned, and before she could continue, he took her shoulders and brought her back up to meet his passionate eyes. As he flipped her onto her back, she smirked at his taking such unequivocal control of her. Not even Ric would ever dare do that to her in a professional context. But as he again made to delve a hand between her legs, to ascertain that she really was ready for him, she said, "Ric, now really isn't the time for chivalry." Almost laughing, he moved between her eagerly spread legs, and launched himself inside her. My god, she thought a moment later, he really was stretching her to her very limits. But oh, she was loving every second of it. He gripped her shoulders, driving into her with every thrust, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, in the way that only the roulette wheel or a horse could usually achieve. Physically, Connie fought him, because she knew that just this once, he needed something different, not exactly resistant, but something that he could, in the end, beat into submission. He had been right to warn her, she knew that, but even now it wouldn't have stopped her from doing this. She internally gripped him, making him cry out in response. He angled his hips to meet her G spot, which made her cry out in return. Ric knew he was being rough with her, but he couldn't have stopped now if he'd tried. She didn't protest when he held her arms to the bed, and he could see in her face that she was enjoying this as much as he was. God, he was furious with Zubin, angrier than he'd ever been about anything, and the thought of this made him dig his fingers even more into her upper arms. He could feel her occasionally struggling under his hold, but he knew that if she really wanted to be freed, she would say so, and she didn't. He knew he'd been going for quite a while when he felt her inner muscles begin to twitch, and heard her gasps becoming even more frantic. Both sure signs that she was nearing her peak. Speeding up his thrusts, he suddenly wrapped his arms round her, squeezing her to him as they simultaneously came, praying that he hadn't hurt her, and feeling that final, heartrending surge of hurt for what his one time friend had done to his daughter.
Afterwards, as they lay, Ric slumped over Connie, his head resting briefly at her neck, they were both breathing hard. Ric knew that had been good for him, but the high is always followed by the low, and now he simply felt numb, a sort of despair, that if left unchanneled, could seep into the depths of one's soul. When he gently eased his softened self out of her, she gasped. Moving to the side of her, he gazed down at her body, utterly appalled by the clear bruises he could see on her upper arms, not to mention her shoulders. "Don't look like that," She said huskily. "It'll heal." Connie felt boneless, utterly weightless, as if she were floating in zero gravity. That had been definitely one of the most sensational sessions she'd ever had. But yes, Ric had hurt her, albeit unintentionally. She wasn't going to criticise him for that, because she knew he hadn't meant to do it, and she knew that he'd warned her of precisely this. He hadn't been far wrong when he'd threatened to make her unable to walk afterwards. Oh, well, that was the price of a monumentally furious screw, she supposed. "I can't believe I just did that," He said quietly, and she could hear the bewilderment of sheer self-loathing in his voice. Summoning up the energy to pull him back down to her, she put her arms round him, and this time, it was he who had his head on her chest, not the other way round as in the past. "How do you feel?" She almost croaked. "Erm, empty, numb," He replied, after giving it some thought. "The coming back down to earth feeling you mean?" "Yes. I've given you more bruises than I care to count, yet what has it really achieved?" "It's stopped you from gambling, when you were hell bent on doing so," She reminded him. "And whilst it might have left you feeling pretty miserable, it has taken away a good deal of your anger. Ric, I don't care about the bruises, because they'll go soon enough. You're sanity is what matters to me." They lay quiet for a time, Ric's cheek against her skin, and Connie running gentle fingers through his hair. As the sweat cooled on her body, Connie shivered, which seemed to bring Ric back to the present. "I think I owe you some conpensation," He said silkily. "For having used your body quite so mercilessly." "You'll be lucky," Connie said ruefully. "I won't want anything inside me for a week after that, and you needn't comment on how note worthy that statement is." "I wouldn't dare," He said, a broad smile evident in his voice. "So," He added lasciviously, moving back up to look her in the face. "You wouldn't even like me to kiss it better?" Connie could feel her body stirring with interest at this suggestion. "Mmm," She groaned luxuriously. "Now I certainly didn't say no to that." In the shower, they gently soaped each other's bodies, softly caressing fingers wandering over skin that they both were coming to know as well as their own. But when she'd washed away all evidence of their recent activity and he sank to his knees, Connie admitted to herself that just maybe, just perhaps, she wouldn't mind this man sticking around after all. Not for all men would she talk them out of dangerous pastimes, not for all men would she submit to the only way they could get their craving out of their system, and not for all men would she bear her soul as she had done to him just before Christmas. That had been the turning point, she decided, the point at which Ric had become not just a friend, not just a colleague, and not just an occasional lover. That was when Ric had become the rock that she could lean on in her own moments of crisis. He had fought tooth and nail for her survival during the fire, and there were very few, if any, men whom she could ever have counted on to do the same. Yes, Ric was occasionally unstable, yes, he was a liability where money was concerned, but he wouldn't be Ric if he wasn't. That's how this relationship thing was supposed to work, wasn't it, both parties being able to support each other, an equal balance of rights and responsibilities. Few men would have taken her offer as he had done this evening, but far fewer men would have tried to maximise her own enjoyment of it, and even less would have willingly sunk to their knees as he was now, soothing and caressing the tender flesh that had been somewhat battered during their furore. But oh, god, that tongue of his ought to be made illegal. It was very rare that Connie allowed herself to lose control so completely with any man, but that was the point, she could with him, and he could with her. As she leant her shoulders against the wall, and he held her still at her hips, she almost felt as though she was floating. Sexually, she clicked so perfectly with Ric, and she knew that if ever they got around to sharing their fantasies, nothing she could say would shock or disgust him in any way. As he delicately nibbled on her clitoris, she stifled a cry of sheer ecstasy. But why should she? Ric wouldn't care if she was noisy enough to telegraph their activities to the neighbours across the street. Ric seemed to sense the lowering of all her barriers, the final discarding of any reservations she might have had about getting to know him, the day after their very first time together on his office sofa. Connie's body shook as she came for the second time, her orgasm so overpowering that it brought tears to her eyes. Gently guiding her down beside him, he moved so that they were reclining side by side, the steaming droplets of water cascading over their bodies. He held her as she wept, a few stray tears of his own joining hers. No words needed to be said, all that was necessary was the occasional kiss. Only when the water began to cool did they turn the shower off and get out, both of them knowing that somewhere today, somewhere in the whole mess of Jess, Zubin and their untimely appearance and announcement, something good had been forged. Whether they ever verbally acknowledged it didn't matter to either of them. But as they spent the rest of the evening in each other's company, eating, drinking, listening to music, and later lying cuddled and safe in Connie's bed, they both knew that the all important line had been crossed. It vaguely frightened both of them, but this didn't prevent either of them knowing that this togetherness, this being close to each other was right.