A/N: This directly follows the episode entitled Overload. Try to listen to the Tori Amos album Scarlet's Walk whilst reading this.
A Dose Of Distraction
Ric sat in his office, staring out of the window, spending the next couple of hours contemplating the realisation that had occurred to him on seeing Zubin. A couple of weeks ago, when he'd asked Jess if she was pregnant, he'd known she was lying to him when she said no. Jess was a terrible liar, she always had been. But Jess's face, when she'd seen Zubin walk in with Connie, well, that had told him everything. She had looked just as stunned and aghast to see him, as he had to see her. Under normal circumstances, Zubin would have had a kind word for Jess, and would certainly have had a smile for his one time friend. Ric laughed mirthlessly when he thought of this. Friend? What did friendship mean to Professor Zubin Kahn? Nothing, clearly. When had it happened, he wondered. When had Zubin, his friend who was the same age as him, slept with his daughter, to whom Zubin had been a more supportive father figure than he had. Zubin's expression had been pinched, uncertain, and he had absolutely refused to meet Ric's eyes. In a moment of irrepressible anger, Ric crashed his fist down on the top of his desk, immediately regretting the unyielding quality of the wood. It was still snowing outside, and Ric felt nothing but the chill resonance of despair in his bones, thinking that try as he had, he hadn't been able to prevent either of his two older children from making a complete mess of their lives. First Leo, and now Jess. But as his thoughts wandered endlessly over the same rocky ground, something new occurred to him. He hadn't been the only one to see the look that had passed between Zubin and Jess, Connie had. In fact, Connie had, albeit fleetingly, appeared to regret her decision to introduce the new head of anaesthetics to him whilst Jess was there. Had she known? Had everyone known? Everyone but him? Before he could think better of it, Ric rose from behind his desk and strode purposefully down the corridor to Connie's office.
When he thrust Connie's door open without knocking, he was momentarily stunned by the sight in front of him. Connie was sprawled in a corner of her leather sofa, a glass of something to hand, and listening to some very haunting music that was quietly playing on her computer. When she looked up to see who had disturbed her, he was further surprised to see the tears that were running down her face. "Do you want something?" Connie demanded curtly, not wanting him to witness her vulnerability. "What happened?" He asked, his previous anger evaporating in the face of her distress. "Close the door, if you're staying," She said, the barbed invitation sounding more like the Connie he knew. "Do you want a glass of this?" She asked, holding up the now half empty bottle of Champagne she'd retrieved earlier. "You don't exactly look like you're in the mood for celebrating," He observed, sitting down on the other end of the sofa as she poured him a glass, obviously not prepared to take no for an answer. "A rather special cancer patient of mine, fancied a glass before she died," Connie told him. "We can't perform miracles all the time, Connie," He said as she handed him his glass, and sat down next to him. "I know," She said resignedly. "I just wish that this time I could have done. Maggie was a friend of Tricia's that she made whilst she was having chemo. We're expected to perform miracles everyday in this job, and sometimes we have the satisfaction of knowing that that's precisely what we did. Even the nurses do it. They know the realities as well as we do, but they still want us to achieve the impossible. But, because she managed to contract chemo-resistant secondaries, there was nothing either I or anyone else could do." She knew she was rambling, but she couldn't stop. Ric thought it was partly too much champagne, and an enormous sense of failure kicking in. The bubbles in his glass were top quality, ice cold ones, and his palette felt thoroughly cleansed after taking a mouthful. Putting his glass down, Ric gently put his arms round her, sensing that no matter what disagreements they may have had in the past, what she really needed now was some very simple comfort. Connie was grateful for his tender gesture, not needing to say anything as he held her, and the soft, haunting tones of Tori Amos drifted around them.
Her tears had long since dried, but she didn't move out of his arms, taking an immeasurable sense of peace from being there. "So," She eventually said into his shoulder. "What's wrong with you? I thought you would have been delighted at Professor Kahn's return." "Would you," He asked somberly. "If he'd impregnated your daughter?" Detaching herself from him and staring in astonishment, Connie said, "Oh, dear. No, I wouldn't. When did that happen?" "You tell me," Ric said mildly, wondering just how much she had known. "I might have known there was something between them," She told him honestly. "But I certainly didn't know things were that complicated." "I thought Jess might have learned her lesson after last time," Ric said disgustedly. "Once is careless," Connie agreed with him. "Twice should be avoidable." "Why Zubin, Connie? Why did she have to pick on someone old enough to be her father?" "I don't have all the answers, Ric," Connie told him mildly. "But there can sometimes be something so tempting about a much older man when you're Jess's age, because most men don't even think about growing up until they're over thirty." "Just how long have you known about it?" Taking a sip of her champagne to give her some thinking time, Connie decided that she may as well tell him all of it. "I discovered it in August, and I'm fairly sure that that's why he left for Paris." "Why didn't you tell me?" "It wasn't any of my business, Ric," She insisted. "I'm quite capable of creating my own complications, so keeping tabs on anyone else's doesn't exactly come top of my list of priorities. Besides," She added mischievously. "It gave me something to hold over Professor Kahn, to ensure his co-operation with the working time directive." After a slightly stunned silence, Ric laughed. "That's honest, I suppose," He said ruefully. "Though at the same time highly unscrupulous." "I've never pretended to have a scruple in my life," Connie said with a smirk. "It's other people who expect me to have them." He could feel the atmosphere subtly change as her gaze locked with his, a slight shift in the air between them.
It didn't surprise him in the least when their lips met, and for a few minutes, he completely lost himself in her soft pliability. The champagne had made both their lips icy cold, though this was soon replaced by the warmth of their gently dualling tongues. Then, holding her slightly back from him, he said,
"No," acknowledging and yet refusing what she was offering, all in the same word.
"Why?" She asked softly, Ric's refusal surprising her.
"Erm," Ric wasn't sure how to say what he was thinking. "I feel so wound up about, everything, that I'm not sure it would be worth your while," He added a little shame-facedly. Instantly understanding what he meant, Connie offered him a smile that was both kind and sultry.
"Did I ever tell you," She asked, her hands beginning to wander over his back. "That I am particularly adept, at untangling the most obstructive of muscles.
"I don't doubt," He replied, his tone matching hers. "But I'm serious, Connie. I wouldn't want to disappoint you."
"Sh," She said, leaning forward to kiss him again. "Just relax. You need this little dose of distraction, just as much as I do." Taking her word for it, he kept on kissing her, letting his own hands begin to roam over her body, reacquainting himself with the curves he could remember only too well. They took their time in exploring each other, Ric wanting to make it good for her, and Connie wanting to give him time to properly relax. Dropping a kiss on the bared flesh of her shoulder that the black top certainly didn't conceal, he said,
"You know, you really shouldn't wear something quite so, eye-catching for work."
"Oh," She drawled seductively. "So that's why one of the candidates kept staring at my chest through the whole of his interview."
"He has my sympathy," Ric said dryly, inching his hands under the hem of her top, trailing them up the toned skin of her ribs, to flicker lightly over her breasts. Connie had been relatively controlled up until then, but as his touch began to inflame her senses, she wriggled out of the top, and threw it lightly onto the chair not far from them. Taking a moment to marvel at the aerodynamics of the strapless bra, especially one that could support Connie's delicious figure, he removed the cleverly constructed article, allowing her breasts to fall with their heavy ripeness into his hands. She gasped as the pads of his thumbs grazed simultaneously over both nipples, a sound that was music to his ears. Her skin was so warm, so soft, that it almost reminded him of sun-drenched apricots.
"You are so beautiful," He told her, knowing that she'd probably heard it a thousand times before, but needing to say so nonetheless.
"Mmm," She said, as he pushed her gently back on the sofa. "So my mirror tells me daily." Laughing at her casual self-confidence, Ric moved to lie beside her, his hands persistently coaxing her nipples to full hardness.
When he regretfully detached his lips from hers, and left a trail of kisses down to one of her nipples, they both found themselves wishing that human beings were born with more than one mouth. The pressure of his lips, alternating with the languorous sweeps of his tongue on her sensitive skin, drew a deep, lustful groan from Connie, telling him that he must be doing something right. "Are you sure this is what you want?" He asked her. "If you even think of stopping, Ric Griffin, I promise I shall sack you," she said, in that firm, authoritative voice that usually turned any man to jelly. Reaching to unbutton his shirt, Connie encountered the gloriously firm muscles of his chest. When he'd shrugged it off his shoulders, she pulled him back down to lie beside her, the slight friction of the coarse black hairs that adorned his torso, stimulating her even more. "There really is nothing quite like a well-muscled chest," She said, thinking that it was one of the most attractive signs of throbbing masculinity she could think of, bar the obvious. "Yours is nicer," He said with a smile, running his hands continuously over her. When he'd deftly removed her trousers and underwear, her hand moved to his belt. "All I want you to do," He said, briefly holding her hands down to the sofa. "Is to lie back and enjoy." "Now there's a command I don't mind obeying," She said in delightful anticipation, as he began kissing his way down her fabulously constructed body. But as he left a trail of lingering kisses over her hip and along her thigh, and she realised where he was headed, she touched his shoulder. "Ric, are you sure?" Looking up at her, he smiled winningly. "You're surely not telling me you don't like it?" He teased. "God, no, of course not," She replied, which was more than enough encouragement for him. When his tongue delicately inched its way into the stunningly silky place between her legs, she felt as though all her bones were simultaneously dissolving. God, she tasted incredible, he thought, her warm, hairless, perfectly smooth skin a delight to behold. He dipped his tongue into her entrance, savouring every bit of the sweetness he found there.
But when Connie was just beginning to think that if she died now, she truly would end up in heaven, Will, with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop, walked into her office as if he were the Medical Director, not her. "Connie, I need you to..." He stopped, stunned, and stared at the sight before him. Connie, lying spread-eagled on her back on the sofa, with Ric lying between her legs, nothing of what they were doing being left to the imagination. "Do you want something, Mr. Curtis?" Connie demanded, briefly glancing up at him from where she was lying. Ric simply kept on with what he was doing, not willing to discontinue Connie's pleasure for anyone. When will simply gaped at her, being incapable of finding an answer, Connie said, "Well, when you find your tongue, feel free to state your purpose for providing me with an audience. Until then, Mr. Curtis, go, away." Hurriedly backing out of the office, Will closed the door, and staggered over to the nurses' station. "What's up with you?" Chrissie asked, taking her eyes off the computer screen for a moment to look at him. "I didn't think people actually did that," Was his slightly stunned reply. "Did what?" Chrissie asked, her attention back on her paperwork. "How does she manage to command absolute power, when she's on her back with Ric's head between her legs?" This definitely got Chrissie's attention. "Oooh, lucky Connie," Chrissie said with envy. Then, at Will's look of horror, she added, "Commanding power in that position, is the prerogative of women the world over, Will. Get used to it."
When Will had gone, Connie said in total disgust, "Talk about Curtis Interruptus." Ric briefly lifted his face from where he could happily have left it forever. "Anyone would think you're used to having an audience," He said with a smirk. "It has been known," She said almost nonchalantly. "You're priceless," He said with a laugh. "So would you be if you didn't stop," She said silkily. Thinking she could probably do with an extra kick to get her going again, Ric took a sip of the champagne before resuming his former occupation. When Connie felt his ice cold tongue on her clitoris, she let out a cry of sheer ecstasy, hurriedly stifling it with a hand across her mouth. Ric kept up his ministrations, alternating between gently nibbling with the fullest lips she'd ever had on her, and sweeping the surrounding nerve endings with his tongue. Reaching up, he persuaded her hand away from her mouth, wanting to hear every gasp that might come from her. When Connie eventually came, she let out a long, drawn out sound, her nails briefly digging into his shoulder. He could feel her entire body twitching with the after shocks of her orgasm, every fibre of her seeking a continuation of her pleasure.
When he moved back to lie beside her, she looked softer, more vulnerable, and utterly relaxed. "You taste so delicious," He told her, which made her laugh. "Do I?" She asked, her voice sounding drowsy and thoroughly satisfied. "Almost as good as those bubbles," He clarified. They lay there, softly kissing for a while, Ric sharing her taste with her, and Connie taking a few moments to regroup. Ric was content to hold her, enchanted by the way Connie's softer self nestled in his arms.
Connie seemed to drift for a little while, whether lost in her thoughts, or lightly napping, Ric wasn't sure. But when her gaze again focussed on him, she said, "You really are wearing far too much, you know." "Is that right," He said, as she undid his belt, and persuaded him out of his trousers and boxer shorts. Pushing him up into a sitting position, she rearranged herself so that she was lying with her head in his lap. "You don't have to," He said, realising what she was intent on doing. "Well, it appears to be your good fortune, that I do occasionally enjoy doing this," She said, resting her cheek on his thigh, and surveying what lay before her. Ric was definitely the largest man she'd ever had, and at the moment, he was half way between being completely disinterested, and being ready to take her back to the height of her passion. Gently guiding the head between her parted lips, she settled down to do what she knew she was extremely good at. Ric sucked in a breath when he felt her warm mouth go round him, thinking that the last time he'd been given this particular specialty, it had been with Sam, and she wasn't a patch on Connie. She never took more than the head into her mouth, knowing that his growing enormity would definitely be too much for her. Ric leant his head back, closed his eyes, and let the combined sensations of Connie and the music wash over him. He gently ran his fingers through her hair, or softly stroked her naked shoulders. She moved her hand continuously back and forth, her lips and tongue treating him as if he was a particularly delicious ice-lolly, of which she was determined to devour every morsel. When he decided that if she wasn't careful, he would be approaching the point of no return, he gently tugged on a lock of her hair to get her attention. Giving him one final squeeze with her lips, Connie detached herself from him and they moved into the age old position, both of them feeling their joining as the home straight in a long, and stunningly accurate course. "So much for you not being up for it," She said as they moved in perfect synchrony. "Well, it would have been unforgivable of me not to be after that," Ric replied, moving in and out of her with the sort of long, penetrating thrusts that gave her plenty of time for her own orgasm to build. Connie certainly wasn't quiet as he moved within her, but neither was she loud enough to attract anyone else's attention. He loved the little noises she made, seeing it as Connie finally being made to lose some of the self-control she prided herself on. When she clung to him with an increased urgency, he sped up his thrusts, kissing her long and hard as she squeezed him to completion.
They lay afterwards, much as they had on Connie's first day, both breathing hard, and both thinking that they had definitely found their sexual match. As Connie lay in his arms, she found herself not wanting this moment to end. She felt as though she could stay here forever, watching Ric's endless dark eyes watching her, and listening to his slow, deep breathing. But this wouldn't do, she thought. She had to gather all the fragments of her usual persona together, and walk out of here with all the detachment she was capable of exuding. "I know it's not much," Ric said, breaking in on her thoughts. "Compared to what you probably have, but would you like to come home with me?" Connie opened her eyes fully, seeing nothing but sincere invitation in his face. "Yes, perhaps I would," She said, his question causing her to immediately abandon any thought she might have had of leaving this here. As they dressed, Connie softly joined in with the words on the CD.
"I guess on days like this, you know who your friends are."
Her voice was deep, sure of itself, and dripped over him like honey. She'd been right, he thought to himself, he had needed that little dose of distraction, just as she had, two friends coming together after a particularly difficult day. Was that what friends were for? He supposed it was. Zubin had proved what sort of a friend he was, and so, in her way, had Connie. Tori Amos was right, Ric did know who his friends were. If today had taut him nothing else, it had taut him that.