A/N: Betaed by Jen.

Part One Hundred And Fourteen

As they drove to the hospital on the Thursday morning, neither of them knew what to say. All that could possibly be said had been said the night before. But the extreme quiet inside the car was driving George insane. "So," She said into the silence, desperately looking for anything to break the monotony of the traffic in central London. "What's this old flame of yours really like?" "Well, apart from the charm, the gambling habit, and the tendency to end up with more wives and children than he can support, you couldn't find a better surgeon anywhere. Watching him operate," Karen added contemplatively. "It's like giving Brahms or Haydn a scalpel." "Oh, you knew him well then?" George asked, Karen's slightly potted biography of Ric making her smile. "I worked with him on and off for nearly six years, so yes, I suppose you could say I know him quite well. He was a registrar when I first met him, but even in those days you could see that he had a gift that would make him stand out from the others on the career ladder around him. He was always devoutly committed to the NHS though. I suppose the wives, the children and the gambling must have forced him into private practice." "How long is it since you last saw him?" George asked, getting a very brief glimpse into the life Karen had once lived. "It must be fifteen years," Karen said in slight amazement. "Jesus, I was only twenty-six then. Funny how time passes. His eldest daughter was about the same age as Ross." "He might know about Ross, from when it was in the press last year," George put in gently. "I doubt it," Karen said dryly. "The only part of the newspaper Ric ever took any notice of, was the racing pages."

When they pulled into the car park, all George's barriers of tension seemed to go back up. Switching off the engine, Karen gently took George's hand. "What ever happens," She said slowly. "You will get through it, and you won't be alone." She saw the fleeting moment of blind terror in George's eyes, just for a second betraying how afraid she was. "Thank you, for being here," George said, giving Karen's hand a quick squeeze. As they walked towards the main hospital building, George reflected dryly that this really was private health insurance for you. The grounds were immaculate and utterly breath taking, obviously in an attempt to make the patients feel welcome and relaxed. The receptionist directed them up to the second floor, where they were asked to wait by a pretty woman of a similar age to George, whose slight Liverpool accent seemed almost out of place in the extremely plush surroundings. The discrete name badge on her uniform, proclaimed her to be Staff Nurse Tricia Williams. As they sat in the softly decorated alcove, not far from the nurse's station, Karen reflected that private hospitals never seemed to have that interminable noise and bustle of the NHS. All was quiet around them, with only the occasional wandering to and fro of either a nurse or a doctor from the corridor that Karen assumed led to where the patients were housed. George was sitting rigidly beside her, the thought of her impending appointment making her more nervous by the second. Karen was about to suggest that she go and find them a coffee, when she heard that voice, that wonderfully deep, impetuous, well remembered voice from fifteen years ago. She heard him before she saw him, clearly in the midst of a slight argument with another consultant. George took in the slight smile of recognition on Karen's face, seeing that whatever memories Karen had of this man were fond ones. When Ric turned the corner from the corridor opposite them and walked towards the nurse's station, Karen examined all the familiar lines of his physique, albeit from a distance. He hadn't changed all that much since Karen had seen him last, though there were a few more grey hairs, and an added scattering of lines around his eyes.

"Alistair, you can't seriously tell me that cutting down on minor surgery is the best way forward," Ric insisted hotly. "Just passing the word down the line, Ric," Alistair protested. "The way they see it, minor surgery takes up just as much time as the complicated stuff, and brings in a far lower revenue for the hospital." "Why does this place only ever consider the financial aspects of healthcare?" "That's private practice, Ric, you know that," Alistair added mildly. "Ric, your next patient's arrived," Tricia told him as they approached. But as Ric glanced over to where Karen and George were sitting, what he'd been about to say to Alistair froze on his lips. Karen Betts! He couldn't believe it. Not for fifteen years had he clapped eyes on this woman he'd known so well. Not for fifteen years had he heard a word from those enchantingly full and graceful lips of hers. Slowly walking towards her, he gradually took in every inch of her figure, from her soft, blonde hair, to the large, blue eyes, and right down the body to which he'd once paid so much attention. "Karen," He said as he moved towards her, Alistair and his insipid financial concerns forgotten. "Ric," She said, getting up to greet him. "Long time no see," She added, kissing his cheek as his arms went round her. "How are you?" He asked, holding her from him so that he could scrutinize her. "It's not you who's come to see me?" He asked, looking suddenly concerned. "No," She reassured him. Then, putting a hand out to encompass George, she said, "George, this is Ric Griffin, and Ric, this is George Channing. It's George who may be in need of your services," She added quietly, returning them all to the gravity of the situation. As George rose to her feet and Ric put out a hand to shake hers, she reflected that there must once have been something highly passionate and explosive between Ric and Karen, for them both to be so automatically familiar around the other.

They followed Ric into a nearby consulting room, and as Ric gestured George to a seat in front of the desk, Karen took a chair off to the side. After taking a somewhat detailed medical history from her, Ric steepled his fingers on the blotter in front of him, and asked, "Are you taking any medication at the moment?" "Only the pill," George told him. "And how long have you been taking that?" George thought for a moment. "Except for about a year when I had my daughter, I've been taking it since I was seventeen." Ric's eyes widened. "But that's..." "Roughly thirty years, yes, I know," George replied. "Why, is that what you think has caused this?" "I couldn't possibly say," Ric said seriously. "But there is a school of thought that might agree with such a suggestion. Do you smoke?" "Yes, though not quite as much as Karen," She said, trying to lighten the situation. "That doesn't exactly put my mind at ease," Ric said with a slight smile. "Now, what I will need to do, is to first examine you, though Kay Scarpetta wouldn't have sent you to me without just cause. Then, I will send you for a mammogram and a chest X-ray, as well as a fine needle biopsy, which will involve the aspiration of some of the cells from inside the lump, which can then be analysed. So, if you would remove your blouse and bra, and lie down on the couch over there," He said, gesturing to an examination table. "We can get the first part over with." "Do you want me to go, or do you want me to stay?" Karen asked, thinking that George might not want her there for this. "Stay," George said lightly. "It's not as if you haven't seen it all before, is it." As George moved over to the table, she caught Ric's wide-eyed smile. Then, taking in Karen's slightly uncomfortable expression, she said, "Oh, god, darling, I'm sorry. Have I dropped you in it?" "Nothing I didn't know already," Ric astonished Karen by saying.

When George was lying on the examining table, Ric moved to stand beside her, first examining her right breast, the one that didn't have a suspicious lump. "So," He said, as his long, tapered fingers moved over her skin. "What else can you tell me about what Karen's been up to, since the last time I saw her?" "Oh, apart from being the Governing Governor of the most successful women's prison in the country?" George replied, trying to keep her mind away from what he was doing. "When did that happen?" Ric asked in surprise. "Last year," Karen filled in. "What happened to that prison officer you were seeing," Ric asked. "The one who lured you away from nursing?" "Oh, he fell by the wayside a long time ago," Karen said dismissively. "Yes, so I see," Ric drawled, thinking that if Karen had decided to switch to women, she certainly knew how to pick them. "I'm not a current incumbent," George told him. "More of an ex, who knows just how well off she is in the friendship department." "I wish I had such a good relationship with any one of my exes," Ric said ruefully. "How many of them are there now?" Karen asked dryly. "I almost got married for the fifth time, nearly four years ago now. But let's just say I decided against it." "How's Jess?" Karen asked, thinking that this certainly went some way to explaining Ric's need for private work. "She's one of nine," Ric said almost proudly. "And training to be a nurse, whilst Leo is following in his father's footsteps. What about Ross?" there was a slightly appalled silence, and when Ric glanced at George's face, he saw a brief look of trepidation, telling him that he'd unwittingly stumbled into something difficult. Looking over at Karen, he saw the half concealed pain in her eyes. "I'll tell you some other time," Karen replied, knowing that it sounded as feeble as it felt. When Ric moved onto George's other breast, gently palpating the flesh, feeling for any inconsistencies in structure or appearance, he very soon discovered what had led George to seek his help. "Precisely how long have you had this?" He asked quietly, his fingers resting on the outer surface of the lump, which was roughly the size of a two-pound coin. "A while," George told him evasively, not meeting his eyes. "Tell him, George," Karen said with an encouraging smile. "He won't shout at you like I did." "I've had it since Christmas," George said quietly, feeling utterly, unbearably stupid. When she saw the brief expression of exasperated anger on Ric's face, she added, "Yes, Karen looked just like that when I told her. So please, no lectures, because I think I had them all last night." "So you've had this lump, between two and three months," Ric thought out loud. "Roughly how big was it when you found it?" "Probably about the size of a nut," George told him. "And judging by the surface area on the skin," Ric explained. "I would estimate that it's now probably about the size of a small egg, though this will be clarified with a mammogram. Can I ask why you left it so long before coming forward?" "I don't know," George said bleakly. "Call it a combination of denial, and mid life crisis stupidity, if you like." Gesturing for her to put her clothes back on, Ric sat back down behind the desk and added some notes to her file. "I'm now going to send you for a mammogram and a chest X-ray, just to make sure we're not dealing with anything else," He said, finally looking up. "After which Tash Bandara, my registrar, will take a fine needle biopsy. Then, when I've had a look at your X-rays, we'll talk about what happens next." As they walked out of the room, Ric turned to Karen. "While Mrs. Channing is otherwise engaged, have you got time for a coffee?" "Would you mind?" Karen asked George, not wanting her to feel in any way abandoned. "No, of course not," George said with a smile. "The pair of you are dying for an excuse to catch up, I can tell. I'll see you later."

When he'd given George directions to the X-ray department, Ric asked Tricia if there was anyone in the rec room where they usually took their breaks. "No," She said, giving Karen the once over. "Connie, Tom and Zubin, they're all in theatre, and Tash is getting ready for George Channing's biopsy." When Ric had closed the door of the rec room behind them, Karen observed dryly, "You've certainly gone up in the world." Moving towards the kettle, Ric said, "I only do private work part time. The rest of my days are spent on Keller ward at St. Mary's. I was Clinical Director there for a while, but I handed that very poisoned chalice over to someone else. So, did you find what you wanted in the prison service?" "It's sometimes hard to remember what I went looking for," Karen replied quietly. "There have been times when I've thought about throwing down the handcuffs, and returning to the old familiarity of a stethoscope instead, but something always kept me from giving up. Even when it gets so bad, that I wonder if I'll ever do a worthwhile day's work again, I keep on going back. It's like you and operating," She said fondly. "Most of the time it's just my way of life, something I do day in day out because I'm good at it. But then, very occasionally, you get the real thrill of a success, when you know you've achieved something spectacular, even amongst all the pain and suffering that's around you, that can sometimes creep into your every pore. So, when I manage to get through to someone, to show them that committing crime doesn't have to be their raison d'etre, I know it's all been worth it." Ric listened to her as she said this, automatically making her coffee the way she'd always liked it. He knew he'd occasionally given little speeches like this, putting into words the feeling of purity and righteousness that he felt on curing someone from the most horrific injury or disease, so he didn't dismiss what she said as being fanciful, but understood every word of it as if he'd said it himself. When he handed her the mug of coffee, she smiled. "You've got a long memory," She said, taking it from him. "I should have," He said ruefully. "The amount of coffees I've made for you in my time. So, are you going to tell me about George?" "Before I do," Karen said, taking a swig of the coffee. "What's all this, it's nothing I didn't already know?" "There was very little I didn't get to know about you," Ric said carefully. "When you work day in day out with someone for nearly six years, you learn to interpret the things they feel. I always knew that you had, something of an interest in other women. From, an attraction point of view," He said slowly. "You might say it made you all the more interesting." Karen smiled, Ric was honest if nothing else. "The first time I really came into contact with George, she was cross-examining me in court. One of the prisoners on the wing where I worked at the time, managed to blow up part of the prison, killing one of the other inmates in the process. There's nothing quite so electric, as fighting with an equal. That's how we got to know each other, through some of the best verbal sparring I think I've ever had in my life. She was like me, had always found other women attractive, but had never done anything about it. She was spreading her wings with me, finding out what it was all about. She wasn't the first woman I'd had an affair with, but no matter how much it might have hurt, discovering that she was in love with someone else, she will always be incredibly special to me." "And what about Ross?" Ric asked quietly. Karen put her mug down on the coffee table. "He... He died," She said hesitantly, all the light having gone out of her face. "Last July." "God, Karen," Ric said, putting out a hand to her, sounding truly sorry for her. "He was in drugs rehab, and being his typically stubborn, adolescent, twenty-two-year-
old self, he refused to let anyone tell me where he was. So, I didn't even know that drugs were a problem, until he'd killed himself." "It sounds completely inadequate," He said, unable to imagine the pain she'd gone through, and was probably still going through. "But I'm so, so sorry." His thoughts strayed to Leo, and he couldn't help but realise just how lucky he'd been, that Leo had come through drugs rehab, and was now back on track to become a doctor. Before Karen could say any more, Tricia put her head round the door. "Ric, we've got George Channing's X-rays." "All right," Ric told her. "We'll be out in a minute." As they moved towards the door, and Karen tried to replace her mask of professional detachment, Ric laid a hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him and putting his arms round her. God, it felt briefly comforting to be in his arms again, his broad, muscular chest providing the occasional hint of stability that she'd sometimes needed. "I missed you," He said, softly kissing her cheek and resting his face against her hair, taking in that long remembered smell of her perfume and cigarette smoke. "You know why I didn't stay in touch," She told him gently. "It wasn't just because of Steve. You and I weren't exactly doing your second marriage a lot of good, now were we." "Nothing did that marriage much good," Ric said ruefully. "If it helps," She said, knowing what a can of worms she may be opening in doing so. "I missed you too."

She followed Ric down the corridor to the nurse's station, and when he took the file of X-
rays from Tricia, they moved back into the consulting room. Clipping the film of the mammogram under the light source, Ric brought it gradually into focus. "What do you make of that?" he asked Karen, almost as if the last fifteen years hadn't happened, and she was still working at his side. As Karen looked at the picture displayed on the screen, Ric outlined a mass in the lower left quadrant of George's left breast. "It looks like a spider," She said in horror. "It's enormous." "No matter what she told you," Ric said seriously. "I think Christmas is a very conservative estimate of when she first found this. I'm going to have to take away all the affected tissue, not just the tumour itself." "But that's... That's virtually her whole breast," Karen clarified. "Until I get in there," Ric explained. "I won't know how far the cancer has spread." "You'll frighten her to death, if you tell her she's going to lose a breast." "You know that I have to at the very least discuss it as a possibility," He said gently but firmly. "Just, just try and be gentle with her," Karen asked him, receiving one of his penetrating stares in return. "What's the story behind her distinct lack of spare flesh?" he asked, wondering if this might shed some light on Karen's wanting to minimise her stress. "She's a fairly successful anorexic," Karen said quietly. "But don't you dare tell her I told you. Only note it on her file if she tells you herself. The point is, that it's very easy for George to suddenly crash to rock bottom, and picturing what she might look like afterwards, isn't going to make it any easier." "All right," he said fairly. "Warning received and understood, but you know I have to give her all the possible outcomes." After a further moment's thought, he said, "Just how much support does she have, other than you I mean?" "Oh, her love life's even more complicated than yours used to be," Karen said with a wry smile. "She's got a man, and a woman, all involved in what you might call a three-way relationship. It's the most bizarre set up I've ever come across, but it works. She won't go short of anything, I can promise you that." "I will do everything I can for her," Ric assured Karen, his total honesty bolstering her defences.

Just then, Tricia put her head round the door, to ask if he was ready to have George back. "Yes, bring her in," Ric replied, not moving from where they stood in front of the X-ray viewer. When George appeared, she moved to stand between them, closely scrutinizing Karen's face, to try and decipher anything that might be revealed in her expression. "Now I know it's bad," She said dryly. "You're wearing the professional face that you usually save either for appearing in court, or for breaking particularly difficult pieces of bad news." "I think it's one of the tricks of the trade," Ric said quietly. "Oh, I don't doubt it," George replied, almost as if she was putting off the moment of truth for as long as possible. "Karen managed to look just like that, on both occasions that I've seen her make mince meat of the opposition." "You were the opposition the first time," Karen said almost fondly. "So, what am I supposed to be looking at?" George asked, finally taking the bull by the horns. When Ric pointed out the spider-shaped mass on the image of her left breast, George looked horrified. "Good god," She said in astonishment. "That's disgusting! And unless that's normal behaviour for the inside of one's breast, it looks as if... As if it's pretty much invaded all of it." Her speech slowed and became hesitant as she gradually put the pieces together, realising just how much of her Ric would probably have to take away. As they watched, the colour drained from George's face, but she still couldn't take her eyes away from the tumour that she'd been carrying around inside her for months. As Ric switched off the viewer, Karen gently guided George into the chair in front of the desk. "The only sensible course open to us," He began slowly, making sure that she was actually listening to him. "Is to remove the tumour, and as much of the infected tissue as possible. I would recommend, that we do this without delay. I will do my utmost, to retain as much of your healthy breast tissue as I possibly can, but..." "You're making no promises," George finished for him. "I don't do promises," Ric told her earnestly. "It wouldn't do either you, or any of my other patients any good if I did. I won't know precisely how far this has spread, until I open you up." "Mr. Griffin," George said, fixing him with her piercing gaze. "Please give me due credit, for being in the business of detecting evasive answers. You think that you will be forced to remove my entire breast, don't you." "I think it is, more than likely, yes," He replied honestly. "And I do think it is something that you should try to prepare yourself for." George went quiet for a moment. "When do you want to do this?" She asked eventually. "In the next few days, if that can be arranged." "Fine," George said bleakly. "Precisely what is involved?" "This would obviously be done under a general anaesthetic, and would probably be followed by two or three days in hospital. Depending on what I find, I may then recommend either chemotherapy or radiotherapy. There are some further tests that I would like you to have, just to make sure that this is the only tumour we are dealing with." Turning to the dormant computer in the corner of the desk, Ric deactivated the screen saver, and moved to the hospital's appointments diary for the next few days. "I do have a private list on Tuesday," He said contemplatively. "And I do have a vacant slot at the beginning of the afternoon." When he glanced over at her, he could see the look of bewildered fear in her eyes. "I do realise that this has all come as an enormous shock," He said gently. "And that it probably feels as though everything is moving far too fast. But the sooner I can remove that tumour, the better off you will be." "If you have to remove my whole breast," George asked him. "And I stress if, what, erm, what will I look like?" "With a modified radical mastectomy, which is what I may have to perform, all of the breast tissue is removed, including the nipple and areola, plus the lymph nodes from under your arm. This can all be done via one incision, which, if this does need to be done, can be extended from the site of the removal of the tumour itself. I will perform the breast surgery, and our resident plastics expert, Carlos Fishola, will be responsible for the neatness of the scar. Again, the necessity for his involvement will only arise, if a full mastectomy is necessary." "Okay," George said quietly, though feeling that this was all anything but okay. "We will need you to be admitted on Monday," Ric told her. "So that various preoperative checks can be done." "Just how long am I going to be off work with this?" "I couldn't possibly say, though it would be advisable for you to arrange to be away from work, for at least the whole of the next couple of weeks. After that, well, let's see how things go." "What do you seriously suggest I do now?" She asked, not really expecting him to give her an answer. "You want my honest opinion?" Ric replied, his face entirely devoid of a smile. "I suggest that you go home, persuade either one or both partners away from the office, and spend the entire weekend in bed with them." Karen would have smiled at his blunt reply, but she knew that he was being deadly serious. "Because of how I am going to look afterwards?" George asked, not remotely embarrassed by his unequivocal response. "No," He said earnestly. "Because of how you may look, and because of how you will, feel. No matter how successful I may be in preserving as much of you as I can, you are going to look different, but you will feel even more so. Not to put too fine a point on it, you should enjoy that beautiful body of yours, whilst it still looks the way it does."