If Only

Chapter 5 – Déjà vu

The night passed quickly after our dispute, Carter led me back inside and offered a friendly tour of the old hall and its history, thereby avoiding as many of the guests as possible. His hand had held mine like a lifeline all night and many of Carter's family friends who had approached us had mistaken me for his girlfriend, none of whom I must've met when I was actually John's girlfriend.

"You planning an escape, Abby?" Carter said softly in my ear, breaking my thoughts and making me realise I had, in fact, been staring at the doors.

"Just wondering what to do with my free weekend." I lie smoothly, looking up at his face as he stands beside me.

"Assuming Weaver doesn't decide to call you in anyway." He teases gently, to which I throw him a dirty look.

"I'm burning my pager and taking my phone off the hook for the next two days." I tell him confidently.

"I'm off on Sunday too." He tells me, looking everywhere but my eyes and feigning a casual stance. Sometimes it scares me how easily I can read this man, and other times it frustrates me that I haven't any idea what he's thinking.

"Assuming you manage to escape the ER vortex." He meets my eyes with a smile in my attempt to return the favour, moving forward suddenly and taking me with him.

"Lets get out of here."

My traitorous mind instantly remembers the last time he said that to me, the occasion ending in a kiss by the river and two months worth of strained relations between us.

"Where are we going, Carter?" I ask as I'm helplessly propelled along beside him. I'm surprised he isn't just going to take me home. After all, his usual reaction to an argument would be to walk away and 'let the dust settle' as it were. I'm a little worried this means he wants to bring up the conversation again, but I stamp down on that thought, as I have to admit - at least to myself - I really enjoy being in John Carter's company again.

"What about that fish restaurant you like? We're dressed for it." As I open my mouth to protest at the idea, he cuts me off; "My treat, as a thank you for coming along tonight."

He opens the door of the limo for me as I think it over, deciding quickly that a dinner with him couldn't hurt... could it?

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"It's the Carters! How are you two tonight?" The over-zealous Irish accent greeted us as we walked in to the up-market restaurant. I smile in greeting, deciding to let Carter deal with the question. This place always seems fairly full, yet somehow whenever Carter and I turn up, Connor always manages to find us a table.

"We're good thanks," Carter answered him, throwing me an apologetic look. "How's your family?"

"Doing great, the girls start school in the fall." Connor, a former patient of John's, showed us to a table by the large picture window, handing us menus. "You ever going to get a ring on her finger, John?" He laughed as he grinned at me and returned to his post by the door.

"Sorry." Carter offered tentatively, looking embarrassed until he saw my amused smile. I'd met Connor a few times when we'd eaten at this restaurant, and he never failed to make me laugh, even if his comments were misinformed this time. Carter gave in to the sheepish grin he'd been holding back, betraying his relief at avoiding an uncomfortable situation. I can feel his eyes on me as I take in our surroundings, realising how I'd missed being out in a date-like fashion with a guy.

"We never really did this." I say aloud.

His chestnut gaze met my eyes with interest. "Did what?"

"The whole date thing." I fold my hands under my chin, guessing maybe that wasn't the best thought to voice at present. I can't believe I just referred to this as if it were a date. I must be tired. Stupidly, unthinkingly tired.

He looks thoughtful for a second, thinking over what had transpired in the first few months we were together. "I suppose we did kind've skip it."

I mentally berate myself for saying such a stupid thing, scanning my menu and plastering a bright smile on my face. "So what should we eat?"

Somehow I managed to refrain from saying anything else remotely awkward, so the mood was somewhat jovial as we ate, the evening ending quicker than I expected. As he walked me to my apartment door, I wonder whether I should be feeling as anxious as I am now.

He reaches out to lay his hands on my hips, surprising me by the familiar, yet nearly forgotten contact of his touch. "I'm glad you came with me tonight, Abby. I had an okay time." He smiles warmly, his tones teasing again as he repeats my words from a few years ago. I can tell by the intensity of his eyes what he's about to do before he starts to lean towards me, but I can't make myself pull away. His lips meet mine uncertainly, giving me more than enough chance to stop him. His kiss is soft and loving, and for a moment I feel as though the last year and a half never happened. He pulls away gently, a surprised smile lighting his handsome features.

We watch each other for a second, a million thoughts passing through my mind. He seems fascinated with my hair, running one hand over the length of it as he stares into my eyes. I don't want to be the one to break the intense eye contact, and apparently neither does he.

"I better go."

His words are husky, his eyes never leaving mine. He's the one to finally break away, brushing his hand down my arm.

"Carter," I finally find my voice, stopping him moving any further by catching his arm.

He doesn't answer me, gazing at me with a questioning expression on his face. I encircle my arms around his neck, urging his head down to be level with mine. This time our lips collide passionately, eighteen months worth of angst and worry finally finding an outlet. His arms surround my waist, pulling me against him.

I broke away breathlessly, unable to stop the inevitable words spilling from my mouth.

"You want to come in?"