A/N: Betaed by Iona: thank you!
Payment In Kind
Part One
Connie thought that if she didn't sleep soon, she would drop to the floor in the middle of the corridor, and sleep the sleep of the dead, onlookers be damned. The recent weather comprised of ice, snow and a great deal of rain, and had provided more RTA's than they could really cope with. As consultants of adjoining wards, she and Ric had borne the brunt of the backlash. They had operated as though on a conveyor belt, sending one case out only to receive another through the heavy theatre doors. Elliott was away at some international conference, which meant that Connie was having to manage the very different ego levels of both her registrars. On the one hand, she was trying to encourage Joseph Byrne, trying to bring him out of his shell, and on the other, she was desperately trying to stop Sam Strachan from attempting surgery that was quite blatantly beyond him. When she had been awake for over forty-eight hours without a rest, she began to think that she was operating on autopilot. If she wasn't careful, she really would make a drastic mistake if she didn't stop for some sleep.
Walking a little sluggishly towards the nurses' station, she leaned on the desk and flipped through the ever-growing mound of patient records. "Please tell me that there aren't any more people who need operating on tonight?" She almost begged Tricia. "No, thank god," Tricia said, taking in the dark shadows under Connie's eyes. "We wouldn't have room for them if there were. You should try and get some sleep before the morning rush." "It's hardly worth going home," Connie said, lifting a hand to cover a yawn, and glancing at the clock over the ward entrance that read 3 AM. "The on call room's empty," Tricia told her, fishing the keys out from a drawer. "Catch a few hours in there." "Thank you," Connie said as she idly threw the keys from one hand to the other. "And could you tell Mr. Strachan and Mr. Byrne that I won't be requiring there services any more tonight?" "I'll tell Joseph," Tricia said with a smile. "But Sam's already sparked out in the one bed we have left." "Typical," Connie said with a rueful smile, though she couldn't really blame him.
As she let herself into the on call room, it dawned on her just how drab and bare it was. Although it had its own bathroom, it still looked like precisely what it was, nothing but a brief rest stop for anyone who might choose to inhabit it for the night. Quickly cleaning her teeth, Connie slipped beneath the sheets of the single bed in her underwear, wanting nothing more than to sink into sleep as swiftly as possible. But her body was still humming with tension after their unbearably long stint with the sick and injured. Turning over in the bed, she couldn't get comfortable, and she certainly couldn't relax.
Ric had been under exactly the same amount of strain as Connie in the last couple of days, and he too was aching for just a few hours rest. As he too strolled towards the on call room, hoping that it was unlocked, as he couldn't find the keys in their usual place, he remembered the one time he'd brought Sam breakfast when she'd spent a night in here, and they'd ended up christening that bed which had probably seen nothing more exciting than the occasional tired body. His thoughts still away with the fonder memories of Sam, he pushed open the door and switched on the light, only to be greeted by the sight of Connie, turning over in the bed to look up at him.
"Connie," He said, closing the door behind him. "I didn't know you were in here." "There didn't seem any point in going home, only to come back again in a few hours," She said with a yawn. "You look exhausted," He said, perching on the side of the bed. "I don't doubt," She replied darkly. "Except that now, I can't get to sleep." "The Beauchamp brain just refuses to switch off," He said, a smile briefly touching his lips. Connie just lay there watching him, unable to form a scathing enough reply, an idea gradually forming in her mind. "Do you want to join me?" She asked, looking up at him as he sat there watching her. "Are you sure?" he asked, a little surprised by her invitation. "Of course," she said, moving over to the far side of the bed. "There's room enough for both of us in here. Well, just about, and it's not as though you haven't seen me in my underwear before, is it." "This is true," He said, getting up from the bed to hide his smile of remembrance. Oh yes, he certainly had seen her in her underwear before, and far, far less.
When he switched off the light, before removing his own clothes and piling them haphazardly on an empty chair, Connie laughed. "Is that an attempt at false modesty, Mr. Griffin?" "Perhaps," He replied noncommittally, going into the bathroom to clean his teeth and splash his tired face with cold water. When he tentatively eased into the bed beside her, it felt natural for their arms to go around each other, though neither of them acknowledged this. He could feel her soft curves nestling up against him, her bra and knickers making the flimsiest of barriers between them.
"You're freezing," He said, beginning to rub some warmth into her shoulders. "It's always cold in here," she said, her legs gently resting against his. "And I'm overtired, which doesn't help." After a while of contented silence, Ric said, "What's happened in the last few days to make everything so frantic?" "God knows," Said Connie tiredly. "But if it goes on any longer like this, I'll be dragging Mr. Hope back from his conference by the scruff of his neck." The only sounds they could hear were their own quiet breathing, and the occasional phone from the nearby ward. As Connie's body gradually warmed within Ric's embrace, her muscles began to relax, and her mind began to drift. It was nice, she reflected to herself, to be lying here, in a far too small bed, in the strong, comforting arms of this man. Why had Michael's arms never been quite so accommodating? It was a question that would have caught her off her guard, if she hadn't been on the edge of sleep, the two of them taking that brief respite together instead of alone.