Disclaimer: No, I'm not going to do anymore funny ones. I'm funnied out. No it's not happening. Besides I'm getting grumpy now because I don't own it and I'm poor.

A/N: Back to Robert (obviously), this more like one big chapter split into two because it's longer than I thought it would be. So this has a crappy cliffhanger, but the next one is much, much better.

A small lull. The eye of the storm if you will.

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They had all been surprised when the phone had rung.

Fifteen minutes later Jane and her shaking, terrified mother had emerged, stumbling down the bright corridor towards a wall of plastic shields.

Robert had moved away from the desk and immediately begun organising things, falling back into a role where he knew what he was doing. The transplant team emerged from the surgeon's lounge where they'd been stuck, looking bleary and caffeine-high. They were soon improved, swept away in the thick of things, as their skills became desired.

He felt a twinge in his stomach seeing their eager and alert faces rev up. It was the twinge he got every time he saw a surgeon enter an OR. Dumb bastard.

Yvonne had soon appeared beside him with a tired smile on his face and the words,

'Can't escape that easily I'm afraid, we've still got two more in there.'

He turned sharper than he had intended.

'I know!' he snapped.

As if he could forget. They tried the phone a couple of times, but Martin seemed to be ignoring them.

'All right, back again for another game of the waiting game,' said Yvonne, running a hand through her hair and leaning back in her chair. The group around the nurse's desk visibly relaxed. Someone went to get coffee.

'Anything for you doc?' asked a young officer.

Robert blinked at him a couple of times then managed a few words which he thought included yes.

He realised how rigid he was, his muscles clenched tight like bound rubber bands. He carefully let them go and reached his hand behind him to massage the pain out of his back.

'Can I ask?' said Yvonne, elbow resting on the desk, head cocked sideways on it.

He looked at her, confused and she nodded her head at his slinged arm. He opened his mouth to respond with a pat answer about not talking about it or a sarcastic comment but suddenly felt drained and shrugged.

'It got sliced off by a helicopter rotor blade then stitched back on. That's about it,' he said.

Yvonne's eyes widened in shock.

'Shit,' she said.

He let out a small laugh.

'Yeah.'

'This doctor in there. Doctor Corday? She been here long?'

'Six years,' he said, omitting the fact he knew how long she'd been here down to the day, 'she's...one of the best surgeons I've ever met.'

Yvonne nodded.

'I have a certain respect for any woman in this type of work. Call it female solidarity. Surgery's usually a man's club. So's this,' she said, grinning.

'Considering women are Olympic talkers and even better at getting what they want, that is very hard to believe,' said Robert, mustering up a degree of sarcasm.

'Yeah. Sure you're not one really?' she asked, slyly.

He winced suddenly as pain hit both his back and arm. Luckily, coffee arrived at that moment and distracted from his scrunched-up features. It a moment or two, it passed. I really should get those pills, he thought. But he didn't want to go too far away from the desk. Just in case. Yvonne took a long swing of coffee and hissed.

'Okay, that was hot,' she said.

Robert curled his fingers round his mug, but did not drink.

'You're doing really, really well, you know,' said Yvonne, 'we've put you in a crappy spot and you're doing an excellent job.'

He looked up at her, expecting an over-Ernest expression but she just looked honest.

'Thanks,' he said, 'this is tougher than a triple heart bypass. With my temperament I'm surprised they're not all dead all ready.'

He sipped the coffee, running through his conversations with Martin and gritting his teeth as he remembered every time his mouth got the better of him. I could have got her killed...

'Like you said, you're a novice,' said Yvonne, placatingly, 'I've seen rookies do worse. And its especially hard when someone you care about is involved.'

His eyes shot up. She peered over her coffee at him.

'I was listening to everything you said remember?' she said, 'and I've got a sense about these things. When pretty much said you'd kill him if she, y'know, I believed you. You'd have to be close to someone come up with that response.'

Robert didn't reply, instead staring into the coffee. He wasn't going to admit anything. There didn't seem much point seeing as she all ready knew and hey, who was she going to tell?

Yeah, okay it was the woman he loved in there. Fair enough. He got the point.

God didn't want them together. He'd been a bastard to her and taken away her husband, then He'd taken away his arm and career. Now he was getting at them both, just in case he didn't get the point. You think its such a bad idea? he thought savagely, join, well, everyone else.

Still, he found himself half-praying-Dear God please. Great now I'm a born again Christian. Someone get me a tambourine.

'You together then?' Yvonne's voice cut into his thoughts.

'No!' he stared at her as though she was mad, but then realised-she didn't know. So it was possible. Even if only in the mind of someone who didn't know him that well or Elizabeth at all. Hoorah.

'No, no,' Robert said, a bit more casually, 'actually her husband only died a little while ago. Left her a single Mom. Little girl.'

He sounded bitter at the end of it, but he didn't regret it. He'd always disliked Greene for a number of reasons, but the biggest one was that he'd left Elizabeth. First he'd had her, then he left her. Oh okay, it wasn't his fault but he still couldn't understand it. Why he didn't fight more. Fight forever second he could have with her and that dear little girl. He'd hurt her in the deepest way possible. Robert would never forgive him for that.

'I wonder why he changed his mind,' said Yvonne, either tactfully changing the subject or getting bored.

Her fingernails clinked against the china mug as she stared into mid-distance.

'Someone in the room must have talked to him I guess. God knows Mrs Graham won't say anything. She could barely say her name,' she continued thoughtfully.

Robert again kept silent. He had a pretty good idea of who it might have been. Elizabeth would never let a child suffer, nor let that odious creep get refuse to let her be treated.

Suddenly Donald Anspaugh's appeared and leaned over the desk. The bags under his eyes seemed bigger than ever and he let out a long sigh.

'How's it going?' he asked.

'Just peachy Donald,' said Robert, 'how's things on the front line?'

Maybe Donald appreciated the army humour but he let out a barking laugh and slapped his hand onto the counter.

'Disastrous. We're teetering on the brink. The closure downstairs has meant the other hospitals are starting to clutter up and I've got every Chief in the area yelling at me. I've just updated Kerry again. Apparently they're very quiet.'

'Oh good, I've made Kerry Weaver happy. The perfect end to the perfect day,' groaned Robert, taking another sip of coffee.

'She's not happy Robert,' said Donald, solemnly, 'no one is happy about this down there. Or anywhere in the hospital. One of our number is down. How is she?'

Robert stared at him a moment then launched into a bland speech,

'I can't imagine she'd be great. When I spoke to her she sounded lucid, but definitely weak. If she'd been shot at the beginning of all of this then she'd have lost a lot of blood by now.'

He said all this staring at the coffee mark on the desk again, biting back any trace of un-called for emotion. Donald nodded shakily and there was a lengthy silence.

'How's the girl?' asked Robert, breaking the peace.

'What? Oh, the Graham girl. Well the team say its touch and go. It's a long way past the optimum time, but they're going to give it a damn good try!'

Shirley appeared beside him, looking absolutely exhausted. She rubbed her head saying,

'Dr Anspaugh, I've got a very irate Dr Kildern from Rush on the phone. Again.'

'God damn that man!' cried Donald, in frustration, 'arrogant, insensitive little-you two should meet Robert, you'd get on!'

And he strode off. Shirley rolled her eyes and gave a warm smile before following.

'I'm glad I'm not a doctor,' said Yvonne with feeling.

'I'm glad I'm not a police negotiator,' returned Robert.

Suddenly the phone shrilled into life and Yvonne's coffee mug clattered to the floor.

'Okay, now I really hate him,' she muttered.