It was a couple of days later, and the night before Ric was due to go back to Ghana. Connie had withdrawn into herself, the nearer his time for departure became. It was New Year's Eve, and as Lola was baby-sitting for her grandson, Jess and Zubin had gone out for dinner, meaning that Ric didn't need to feel guilty about spending his last night with Connie. They were sitting in the lounge, in the big armchair set at right-angles to the blazing fire, Connie nestling in his arms, as she seemed to have done so often over the last few days. Ric could see the torment going on behind her eyes, but he was entirely at a loss as to how to assuage it. He couldn't help having to go back to Ghana, and he knew she was aware of that. But he also knew that this was possibly the worst time he could think of leaving her to her own devices.
"I wish you'd talk to me," Ric said to her gently. "What do you want me to say?" She asked him dully. "I'd like you to tell me what you're feeling," He encouraged quietly, knowing that this would be going against all her better judgment. "It all sounds so silly," She told him sheepishly. "How do you know," He asked with a smile, "if you don't even try putting it into words?" "I don't mean to make you feel guilty for going back to Ghana," She said after a short silence, thinking this as good a place as any to begin. "I know you don't, but I do." "But you shouldn't," She insisted. "Ghana is where your job is, where your life is, and here is where my job and where some of my life is. That isn't something either of us should try to change. Ric, you've probably kept me alive over the last few days, if you did but know it, and that's something for which I can't ever thank you enough. Even though I look as though I belong on my own ward, it really doesn't matter to you, and that has done me more good than you could ever know. My looks are about all I have going for me sometimes, and the thought of going back to work looking like this utterly terrifies me, but it is something I will have to do in the very near future. Even though I look like this, and even though you know what Michael did to me, you can still find me attractive, you can still be thoroughly turned on just by having me near you. That might not seem a lot to some, but it means an enormous amount to me. No, I don't want you to go tomorrow, because not having your almost undivided attention is something I really don't want to contemplate. I am loath to admit that I've needed someone else to keep me on the vaguely straight and narrow, but I have. In the last few days, I've learnt what it means to be able to rely on someone, and I suppose I'm not exactly looking forward to doing without again. Still, whoever said life was fair?" She stopped, thinking that she'd definitely said more than enough.
Ric was incredibly touched, mainly because these were sentiments he had never expected to hear from Connie, no matter how vulnerable or temporarily clingy she might feel. She was still trying to put a brave face on it, though she wasn't making a very good job of it. He really didn't know what to say, because come back to England, back to Holby, wasn't something he felt even vaguely capable of doing, not even for Connie. Zubin had asked him the other day if he loved Connie, and he had answered with uncertainty. But if he was honest with himself, yes, he definitely did love her, but that wasn't something he thought she would want to hear. Connie was a very proud woman, a very independent woman under normal circumstances, and that incredibly destructive four-letter word would almost certainly put too much pressure on both of them. Connie could be excused for thinking she loved him, simply because at the moment she desperately needed him with her, and had come to rely on him as one does with the people they love, but Ric wasn't sure that it could last. Connie and he lived very different lives these days, in spite of their similar professions, a division that didn't allow for such a commitment.
"Connie," He said eventually. "Just because I won't be here in the physical sense, doesn't mean that I won't be thinking about you, and it doesn't mean that I am going to feel any less for you, just because I'm thousands of miles away." "I know," She said. "I told you it was a little silly." She was mortified to realise that brief tears had risen to her eyes. Connie Beauchamp didn't cry over something so trivial, and she certainly didn't use the tears as a ploy to get her what she wanted. Threats, her body, even her money, they could all be used to turn a situation to her advantage, but not anything so pathetically feminine as tears. "I'm sorry," She said, her tone full of self-recrimination. "Crying is the only thing I seem able to do in vast quantities at the moment." "Which is perfectly understandable," He told her quietly. "No, not over something like this, it's not," She insisted vehemently. "Connie, do you really think I don't feel like this too?" He asked her honestly. "Because I can promise you that I do. I might not show it, and I might not know how best to put it into words, but I don't like having to go back to Ghana any more than you do. I badly don't want to leave you here on your own, and I certainly don't want you to be alone when Michael finally decides to put in an appearance. I would give anything to be able to take you back with me tomorrow, because then I would at least know you were relatively safe, but I can't. You need time and space to sort yourself out, and to decide what if anything you are going to do about Michael, and I suspect that my continued presence would only complicate everything. But one thing I can promise you," He added with a stern smile. "Is that if I don't receive a visit from you some time in the next few months, I will be back." Connie smiled as he said this, knowing that he meant every single word.
When she kissed him, he could taste the residue of her tears. Whenever their lips met like this, their answering need always seemed to ignite the other, submerging them both in a rising spiral of passion that could eventually take them anywhere. So often as his lips tangled with hers, Ric had to restrain himself from uttering those three fatally cataclysmic words, I love you. It felt so natural to feel it, to want to say it, to tell her just how much she really did mean to him. But he couldn't, he shouldn't, not if he wanted to keep her with him for as long as possible. All Connie was wearing, was a pale blue silk robe, the beautiful satiny fabric sliding over her skin as she leaned closer to him. Glancing down, Ric could just see her nipples poking at the front of the robe, the low, open neck being far too tempting for him. Sliding a hand inside the robe, he delicately caressed her left breast, running a fingertip around her nipple, positively avoiding the steadily rising peak. Kissing his way over the bruises that were slowly fading on her neck, Ric briefly laid his cheek against her chest, hearing the reassuring beat of her heart. Then, parting the robe a little more, he leaned Connie slightly away from him, and gently began suckling on her left nipple, causing her to groan luxuriously in response. "Do you have any idea what that does to me?" She asked, her breathing a little unsteady. Ric laughed softly, his mouth otherwise engaged. His lips were so soft, so full, and that tongue of his so warm, that Connie felt as though her entire insides were melting on the spot. "Let's go to bed," She said after a while, wanting to be far more comfortable for whatever might come next. Taking her at her word, Ric tenderly picked her up in his arms and carried her towards the stairs. "You won't be good for anything if you keep on doing things like that," Connie told him with a laugh. "Do you want a bet?" Ric asked her, and then added, "sorry, really bad choice of words there." "As long as you don't actually mean them, I don't mind," She told him ruefully, as he put her gently down on the bed. As Ric swiftly removed his clothes, all except his boxers, Connie discarded the robe and slid under the duvet. When Ric joined her, his hands were everywhere, teasing her to the point of internal combustion. "Can I tell you a positively enchanting thought that has just occurred to me?" He asked, his hand moving languorously between her legs. "I'm all ears," She told him dryly. "I'd give anything to see you do this to yourself," He admitted a little sheepishly. "Well, how incredibly naughty of you, Mr. Griffin," Connie said a little sternly, though with a smirk playing over her lips. "However, I'm sure it can be managed, when I look a lot better than I do now. I'll do you a deal," She said, as she felt her arousal vastly increasing at the thought of showing off for him. "When I do come to see you in Ghana, I will attempt to fulfill your little fantasy." "Oh, and what is my side of the deal going to be?" Ric asked, not stupid enough to agree to one of Connie's deals before he'd heard all the terms. "Well, now, I shall have to think about that, won't I?" "You've never told me any of your fantasies," He said thoughtfully, the mountain of possibilities seeming incredible to him. "I don't want to frighten you off entirely, now do I," She said with a laugh. "I don't shock easily," He promised her, beginning to kiss his way down her body, eventually replacing his hand with his mouth. Connie had been about to tell him not to be so sure, but any such thoughts went right out of her head. Oh, god, that mouth, that gloriously languidly sweeping tongue, and those lips that nibbled at her so delicately. Jesus, she would be able to swim in her own juices in a minute if he wasn't careful, which he would probably think no bad thing. But as she began on the approach to her orgasm, she touched his shoulder to get his attention. "Ric, please, I want you inside me." Breaking off from what he was doing, Ric stared up at her. "Are you sure?" He asked, needing as much affirmation as she could give him. "Yes," She said breathlessly, pulling him up towards her. Discarding his boxers in a trice, Ric moved to lie beside her. "I don't want to hurt you," He said, thinking of the comparison between his usual size and her slight injury from Christmas Night. "I don't care," She promised him urgently. "I need this, before you go home, I need you to do this." Seeing the depth of need in her eyes, Ric gently turned her onto her side, knowing that her gradually healing ribs wouldn't appreciate having his full weight on her. Holding her against him, he carefully entwined their legs, eventually slipping inside her with a groan of appreciation from both of them. Holding her as still as possible, so as not to aggravate her ribs or her bruises, Ric slowly and deftly moved inside her, the base of his shaft rubbing continuously against her clitoris. It felt almost foreign to Connie to have him inside her again after everything that had happened, but in another way it felt just like coming home. His being there with her, consuming her in the way he knew best, that made her feel whole, feel her true self once more. When they carefully rocked themselves to a climax, they both knew that this wasn't simply the inevitable outcome of an hour or so in bed. This was a meeting of souls, a colliding of spirits, making them one being in that final moment of completion.