Summary: Mark Sloan helps a young widow.

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

Russian Blues

Chapter 2- Saying Goodbye

Within an hour Tovah was standing in the pathology lab with Alex. A large, gruff looking man introduced himself as Lt. Steve Sloan, and the woman behind the desk was Dr. Amanda Bentley. Tovah looked over at the table in the center of the room. A body was lying on it, covered only by a white sheet.

"I'm sorry that you have to do this, Mrs. Deningkov," Steve said gently. Tovah only nodded. Alex put a hand on her shoulder. Amanda glanced at Steve, and reassured lifted the sheet. Tovah gasped and reached out her hand, caressing her husband's lips with her fingertips. She put her head down on his chest, choking on bone-racking sobs. Amanda reached over and led Tovah to a chair, where she held the young woman, letting her tears fall freely.

"Are you alright?" Alex asked when she calmed down. She shook her head slowly, but dried her eyes on a Kleenex.

"It wasn't real. It was just a nightmare. I was going to wake up. I had to. But now it's real. That's really him."

"Do you have anyplace to stay?" Steve asked. Again Tovah shook her head. "Why don't you come stay at the beach with me and my father?"

"No, I won't impose. No one needs the poor little Russian girl moping around." Tovah said, almost bitterly.

"You wouldn't be imposing at all, Tovah," Steve tried again.

"I'm sorry. Thank you Lt. Sloan. It would be very kind of you." Steve gave her a small reassuring smile and then turned to the pathologist.

"Thanks, Amanda."

"Mmm-hmm," she said sadly. She started to reposition the sheet over the body, but Tovah stopped her.

"Wait," she said. "May I?" Amanda stepped aside and stood with Alex across the room. Tovah walked back over to her husband's body and traced the profile of his face with her finger.

"Good bye," Tovah whispered, leaning down and kissing his cheek. "I love you," she breathed. Then she straightened the sheet over his face and composed herself, turning around. "I'm ready," she said sadly.

.......

Every staff member at Community General Hospital knew that Mark Sloan was no normal doctor. For example, he often gave lectures in rap, and spent most of his spare time helping his son solve homicide cases.

That is why no one, aside from the odd patient that had never heard of him and his eccentricities, thought anything of it when Dr. Sloan came roller skating down the hallway towards the E.R. He skidded to a stop, knocking a stack of files off the nurses' station. He smiled sheepishly at the R.N. who glared at him, and her look softened as Mark dropped to his knees to help her clean the papers that he had unintentionally scattered across the floor.

Finally he retreated to the elevator and spun in circles until he reached the fourth floor, and then sped towards his office. He didn't anticipate how fast he would pick up speed and unable to stop, Mark ran into the door of his office, which flew open. He landed in a sprawled heap on the floor. When he finally sensed that the movement had stopped, Mark opened his eyes. He was looking straight into the tasseled loafer of his son.

Again he flashed his famous, irresistible smile, and Steve helped him to his feet.

"Dad, this is Tovah Deningkov, one of Alex's patients. Her husband was murdered this morning. She will be staying with us for awhile," he said, ignoring the urge to tell Tovah that they were in the wrong office and that this roller-skating lunatic was not his father.

"Hello, Dear," Mark said compassionately. Tovah immediately fell under the "Doctor Sloan Spell," comforted by his words, and liking him right away. "Would you like to sit down?" She nodded, and took a seat on the tan couch. Alex sat beside her and tried to comfort her, checking her pulse, and asking her questions about how she felt. Mark watched them for a minute and then turned to Steve. Normally Steve was a few inches taller than his father, but the specially ordered wheels on Mark's skates easily closed the difference in their heights.

"How is she taking it?" Mark asked Steve quietly.

"Not too good. Alex said he's worried about her making herself and the baby sick."

"Well, at least we can make sure that she eats properly tonight," Mark said.

"Alex is off-duty now, so we're going to go back by the Deningkov's house and pick up a few of Tovah's things. Will you take her home and get her settled?"

"Sure, Son," Mark said, sitting down and unfastening the roller skates. "It's probably easier to drive without these."

......

The Deningkovs lived in a small apartment a few blocks away from the hospital. Tovah had done a remarkable job decorating the place, and the style was consistently elegant. But the nursery was cheerful and happy, clouds floating across the blue walls. Steve highly doubted that the room would ever be used by Tovah. The forensics team was still taking care of the living room and kitchen area, so Steve slipped into the bedroom to check it over himself.

"What did Gleb Deningkov do, anyway?" he asked, turning to Alex.

"He graduated from some sort of computer school a year ago. He has a pretty good job at an animation studio. Tovah graduated from the same school last year, but she's taking time off to have the baby," Alex said.

"Don't touch anything," Steve ordered.

"Yes, Dad," Alex replied sarcastically. Steve sighed and opened a dresser drawer with a gloved hand. They started putting things into a duffel bag. Steve wandered into the bathroom to get a toothbrush, and Alex lifted a small vial out of a drawer. "What's this?"

Steve came over and looked at the unlabeled container. He smelled burnt almonds as he lifted it to his nose.

"It's cyanide," he said.

"Do you think there are any fingerprints on it?" Alex asked.

"You mean beside your own?"

"Oops."

"Nice going," Steve said.

"Let's just get what we came for and get out of here," Alex said, embarrassed that he may have screwed up the only clue, after being warned about it. Twice. That was something Jesse Travis did, and if he wasn't careful, Alex would end up with the same reputation.

......

Tovah sat alone in the guest room of Mark Sloan's house. The light was off, and the room was beginning to grow dim with the fading light of the evening. She heard noises coming from another part of the house, but she didn't move. She was remembering the last five years of her life, the three wonderful years she spent with Gleb.

Tovah was startled from her thoughts by a knock on the door.

"Come in," she said quietly. The door peeked open and Alex stuck his head in.

"It's me. We got your clothes for you."

"Thank you, Dr. Martin," Tovah said, leaving her volume at a level almost inaudible.

"It's Alex to my friends," he said with a reassuring smile. "Dr. Sloan and Steve are going to help you."

"Did they find anything at the house?"

"Just a vial of cyanide. We won't know until Dr. Bentley gets here, but it's a safe assumption that it is in Gleb's bloodstream."

"Alex..." Tovah began. She looked down and studied her hands that were resting on her stomach. "Am I a suspect?"

"Maybe you are, technically, but I know you couldn't have killed a man you loved that much. Besides, you were with me at the hospital."

"I didn't kill him, but I think I know who did," Tovah said with a sharp tone.

"Who is that?" Alex asked.

"My father."