10: Almost

Sydney had almost asked Maggie to be with her, to go out with her, to give this a shot after she got her through the boards exam, but she didn't. She couldn't. It wasn't fair to Maggie - even if she had no real hang-ups around the thing between them, Maggie wasn't gay; not really. She'd been flattered or her interest had been piqued or something. Sydney was an anomaly amongst Maggie's dating profile, and Sydney couldn't bear not having Maggie the way that she needed to have her. Sydney couldn't have Maggie as a friend, couldn't live in the same city as her without wanting to be with her, without wanting her. So Sydney had taken another staff job at another hospital, had walked away from Hope Zion, but she'd never stopped thinking about Maggie, found herself staring at her phone while she made dinner, wondering if she could call Maggie and invite her around without making a fool of herself. And she was sure she couldn't so she didn't. When the job in Israel had come along, Sydney had jumped at it. This city was filled with Maggie, with the temptation of the same timezone and zip codes, with the knowledge that she could go to Hope Zion at any time and drink in the sight of Maggie and ask her the question she desperately wanted to ask: did it mean to you what it meant to me. Do I mean to you what you mean to me?

Life was more bearable if she didn't ask, Sydney told herself, and for months she could pretend that if she'd asked Maggie wouldn't have said yes.

She could pretend that she'd done the right thing.

She could pretend that it would have ended this way anyway, and that she was just saving herself the heartbreak of chasing a straight woman.

And it had become ever so apparent, over the course of the day, that she was ever so wrong.

Sydney was taken aback when Maggie had referred to her as an ex-girlfriend. But Maggie was right; they were never really just friends either. There had always been something between them – Sydney had taken for granted that the way she had felt had been one-sided but it was becoming more evident that she had been wrong.

She'd thought she'd been alone in this, not realizing the truth until so long after she had pushed away. But waking up with Maggie's soft hand in her hair the other morning – someone in the ICU who'd been through an explosion and two surgeries tending to her so carefully… Sydney couldn't pretend any more.

And to have deserted Maggie the first time now felt heartless and cruel, rather than the only logical solution available to a problem she could see now never really existed. Even with the fallout from her family, her community, she knows now that Maggie would have been by her side, never pushing, but willing to step up.

And today Maggie had been pushing, testing Sydney until she'd had to bring up her sort-of-girlfriend in Tel Aviv to shut her down. They'd met online, only spoken online and Sydney was hoping this spark she'd felt immediately for Maggie would emerge with this beautiful gay Jewish woman too - eventually.

But with Maggie shadowing her all day, always at her shoulder, elbows brushing in the halls the way they used to… Sydney wondered if her job in an illustrious hospital in Israel was worth turning away again from the warm body so close to her own, a body she could remember being so much closer to. Sydney has never been comfortable being this close to anyone else, and she can't help but wonder if Hannah will be as understanding of her boundaries as Maggie has consistently been.

Sydney shucked off her white coat in the on-call room, left it in the locker that used to be hers. She changed out of her scrubs back into her street clothes, tucking her scrubs into Maggie's locker, trusting her former resident to turn them in to be washed. On second thought, she moved her white coat in with Maggie's stuff as well, pausing as she knocked a book onto the floor. She picked it up, tried to smooth the smattering of clothing on the bottom of the locker out of the way, noting vaguely that the book was a translation of the Torah. She moved some cloth, some tiger-print lace that made her blush, and…

A blue scrub cap.

That had once taken the place of a yarmulke.

It might not be the same one – it had been over a year – but when Sydney raised it to her nose it smelled like the apple-scented conditioner Sydney used. Maggie had kept it, all this time.

And Sydney wasn't snooping – she really wasn't – but there was a slip of paper in the book with her own handwriting – just a scrawled note she had left on her desk for Maggie to meet her on the ward – but she had signed it Syd, which was as informal as she got, and it was wedged in the book of Leviticus.

Sydney rolled her scrubs in the white coat, shoved it in the locker, tried to make it look like she'd thrown it on top without disturbing everything. Then she went to the desk, tore off some paper, tapped a pen against her mouth.

'I'll miss you. You're a great doctor and I'm happy to supply a reference. Just email me,' She wrote finally. 'I ran out of time to dump my scrubs – can you please take care of it for me? Thank you.' And she paused, before carefully and slowly signing off with a 'Love, Syd.'

She put the note on top of the coat, fingers itching to take the scrap of lace she'd seen earlier with her. Instead she took a smiley face post-it from the door, shut the locker.

She patted the bunk where so many things had changed and headed for the door.

Maggie stepped into the doorway, careful eyes watching, arms crossed as she leaned against the frame.

"Maggie…" Sydney started, wondering how much she'd seen.

"Leaving so soon?" Maggie asked with that edge to her voice that had been there all day. Sydney could recognize it now – it was hurt, hurt that Sydney was leaving again, hurt that Sydney had left before without telling her. "Let me see you out?" She asked, a lot lighter, trying to sound casual but her voice caught – not that anyone but Sydney would have noticed. Sydney nodded and stepped toward Maggie, who pushed away from the frame, fell into step beside Sydney, matching her pace the way she always did despite the height difference, arms brushing together the way they used to. There was a rhythm to their walk, one Sydney couldn't recreate with anyone else even if she wanted to. Walking this close typically ended in bumping into each other, but not only did Maggie accommodate Sydney's pace, she accommodated her space. Sydney tried to lighten the mood a little, tried to pass off her lack of a previous goodbye as a bad habit, then, when Maggie called her on it with a 'tell me something I don't know', she thought about how honest and open Maggie had been with her all day and decided to meet her halfway and be honest.

"You're the only almost I ever think about. And I do think about you, Maggie," Sydney told Maggie seriously, and the tension in Maggie's face dissipated.

Sydney had time to move away when Maggie leaned in, had time to dodge but she was spellbound by Maggie's face, so close to her own. And she remembered those lips, those soft, sweet lips, that small hand in her hair, nuzzling her ear, cupping her cheek.

"I owed you one," Maggie said with a cheeky smile when she pulled away, and Sydney could only smile back a little sadly. She had a position in a prestigious hospital, and a plane to catch, and a woman waiting for her but she felt like she couldn't have left without this one last grand gesture – one that she couldn't make because of the aforementioned woman. She walked away, turning with her hand on the door, half expecting Maggie to have walked away already – but she was standing where she had been, hands in pockets, forlorn look on her face. Sydney nearly paused, but she turned away again. If you don't know what you're living for, you haven't lived yet.

Sydney could pretend now, in her little cocoon on the plane, feet tucked under her, blanket curled around her, that if Sydney had stopped in her office on her last day and changed her mind, had asked Maggie, Maggie would have said yes, would have kissed her with the passion she had just one other time, face splitting into the smile she only seemed to grace Sydney with. She could pretend that they would have dated, would have moved in together, would have had children together - when Sydney knew that at the time all she could imagine was that even if Maggie had said yes, she would have gotten bored with Sydney, would inevitably leave her for a man. Or, another of Sydney's most replayed imaginings, Maggie would have just laughed and called it an experiment with curiosities satisfied.

It was better this way, Sydney told herself. It was better to leave on good terms with one last kiss than to have gambled in her previous, fragile state. Maggie could have shattered her back then with just one word – and despite all her plans, despite all her self-preservation – she felt shattered nonetheless. It was still worth the risk, because this was an 'all my preconceived notions were completely wrong' shattered, not a 'the only person I've ever loved has rejected me after I broke up with my fiancé and outed myself to my family' shattered. Which sounds more bearable when Sydney says it to herself, over and over, eyes closed tight as she held herself through a very long flight.

If Maggie wasn't into Sydney the way Sydney was into Maggie, she wouldn't have referred to Sydney as an ex-girlfriend – they'd slept together once, still Sydney's only time, and had dinner once with a third wheel. That didn't rate as girlfriend. And it felt like Maggie, the whole day, had been trying to say something without actually saying it – saying she was still here, questioning Sydney's move – Sydney had seen the crushed look on Maggie's face when Sydney mentioned her girlfriend.

So in the lobby, when it was absolutely clear that Maggie would not let Sydney leave without a goodbye, when Maggie said Sydney's girlfriend was lucky, hinting that there might be something for Sydney to stay for, the way she had been all day - Sydney was honest.

When it was too late, she could tell Maggie she regretted that she hadn't turned the almost into an actual.

And that small almost-confession had prompted Maggie to step forward, to press her mouth to Sydney's in a chaste but so, so necessary kiss, one that Sydney was still treasuring hundreds of kilometers in the sky. There is a woman waiting to pick her up at the airport, a woman who might also kiss her, and Sydney can only hope she can eclipse Maggie's kiss.

If she can't then Sydney will know, for sure, that she's made the wrong choice. Again.

When Sydney had turned at the door, and when she saw Maggie's face, she almost turned back.

Almost.

She turned back to look at Maggie one last time at the door, and the look on Maggie's face sunk her heart, and in that moment she knew she'd made the wrong choice, made a series of wrong choices that had taken her from the only woman who looked at her like the only thing that mattered to her.

Maggie might not have been completely gay, but she was pretty gay for Sydney. And she was loyal, hardworking, honest, funny and Sydney had only known her girlfriend for a few weeks but even now she knew that she would never, ever look at Sydney the way that Maggie did. She knew, even now, that she wouldn't be able to commit to this new relationship because if she thought Maggie had haunted her before, Maggie, so small in the hospital bed, Maggie sleeping under Sydney's head, Maggie's heartbeat quickening when Sydney moved just her thumb across Maggie's ribs, Maggie's hopeful smile when she saw Sydney in her hospital room, Maggie's broken face as Sydney waked away. Just one night and one day with the taller doctor had removed any hope Sydney had of getting over her.

Sydney was going to give her girlfriend a chance, but it probably wouldn't be fair to either of them, not with the ghost of Maggie to measure up to. But she would stay in Israel, she would try to move on.

It was for the best.

The movement of the plane lulled Sydney to sleep, and she woke dehydrated and disoriented in Tel Aviv, ready to start over. She carefully slid the post-it back into her purse, and prepared to disembark.

Author's Note:

Season 4, episode 12 interlude.

Just saw the episode where Sydney comes back and oh gosh. Oh golly. So sweet. Must write.

Also thinking of maybe a short series of non-canon musings of if things had been different.

Oh! And apologies for the delay - flu followed up by a throat infection and perhaps an abscess?

Best enjoyed with City and Colour's "Harder than Stone" played season 3 episode 16

Someday I will walk away
When time ain't drawing on me like a blade
Back turned to the setting sun
Leaving behind Toronto's incessant hum
'Cause I was born and raised
To live beyond
The heft and weight
Of a world undone
Traipsing though the utter dark
Walking underneath the dead moonlight
Without any great concern
For what I've missed or how many bridges have burned