Part 13

Chris stared at the doctor in disbelief. "What did you just say?" he asked, his voice very calm, very even. His face however revealed his true feelings, a mask of pain.

Dr. Culver met his eyes squarely. "Buck's refusing to consent, Chris. He won't allow us to put him back on the respirator."

Nathan cleared his throat. "You told him the risks?"

Culver nodded. "It would have been unethical not to. Buck had to know there was a risk he'd be unable to come off life support. That his lungs might be too damaged to sustain his life without mechanical intervention. I hope he'll change his mind. In my opinion the benefits far outweigh the risks. If we can find out what the toxin is that is affecting his lungs...help his body fight off the pneumonia...but for now, Buck is adamant about not wanting to-"

"Damn," Nathan uttered softly. He respected Buck's feelings - even understood in a way - but the thought that his friend might die chilled him to the bone. "How long does he have before he has to go on the respirator?"

Culver rubbed his eyes. "I'd like to move him to ICU and put him on it right now," he answered bluntly. "His body is exhausted. The edema in his lungs isn't going to go away any time soon - his condition is going to get much worse before it gets better... if he gets better. But-"

"Do it."

Chris had been staring out the window. Now he turned to face the two stunned men. "Do it. Put him on the respirator."

Nathan's eyes widened. "Chris...Chris, I understand what you're feeling but Buck has the right to make his own decisions-"

"No, he doesn't! Buck does not have the right to give up fighting. He does not have the right to just let himself slip away. He does not have the right to leave JD. Or Ezra. Or any of us. Damn it! He does not have the right to die without fighting to live!" He spun on his heel and started out of the room.

Nathan scrambled to his feet. "Where are you going?"

"To talk to Buck. To make him change his mind." Chris fixed his icy green eyes on Culver. "But even if he doesn't, go ahead and make the arrangements. I have his power of attorney. If I have to swear to a judge he's incompetent to make his own medical decisions, then I will. I am not going to let Buck die. Not if there's anything that can be done to prevent it." Chris stalked out.

Left behind, Nathan and Culver stared at each other, the passion in Chris' voice still reverberating the air after he'd left the room.

"Monica?" Vin exclaimed in surprise. "What're you doin' here?"

The bright smile dimmed from her face. Suddenly aware of how that must have sounded, Vin stepped back and waved her inside. "Please, come on in." He felt his own face flushing. "I just got home," he said, unnecessarily as she had to detour around his duffel bag to get into the small living room.

She turned to face him. "I'm sorry for just dropping in-"

"I'm not," Vin said, surprising even himself. He caught her hand. "I was just surprised to see you. But I'm glad. Real glad."

They looked at each other, then broke into identical smiles. Vin realized he was still holding her hand and he gently guided her to the shabby but comfortably overstuffed couch. "Take a seat."

She sat on the end, automatically slid into the corner and slid one foot under her body. Vin blinked. Noticing his look, Monica Hastings blushed again and quickly straightened up, placing both feet primly on the floor. It dawned on Vin she was dressed much more casually than he'd ever seen her, in blue jeans and running shoes.

"Sorry," she apologized again. "Force of habit."

Vin shook his head and dropped down to sit next to her. "It's okay," he said gently. "You can't hurt this old thing and...and I like to see you sit that way. My ma...my mother used to sit that way." He stared into space and memory. "We had an old battered couch like this one...she always used to curl into one corner with one foot up like you." He blinked and looked down at the cheerful, if faded, print that covered the couch as if he'd never seen it before. "Guess that was why I bought this old thing in the first place. Reminded me."

"Good memories."

"Yeah." Vin mentally shook himself. "So, what brings you to the Purgatorio in the middle of the day?"

"Herbs."

Vin blinked. "Herbs?"

"You're going to laugh," she warned him, smiling.

"Try me," Vin challenged.

"I needed some powdered toadstool."

Vin just stared at her, fighting the grin.

"I told you!"

"I'm not laughing!"

"You want to," she smiled. "Go ahead. I know how it sounds. But there really are legitimate medicinal uses for it. Try to get a legitimate distributor to carry it! The last one asked me if I needed it to chant incantations under a full moon. But there's a Chinese apothecary near here that has some. So I just buy locally."

"Chang's, over on fifteenth?" She nodded. "That's thirteen blocks from here," Vin pointed out.

"True. But," she sighed. "Now you will laugh. I'm an idiot about cars. Mine's been making this funny noise for the last few days and I just kind of ignored it. I meant to call the mechanic but...well, I didn't. Anyway there's this awful pothole coming out of the driveway of Chang's. I hit it full on and there was this horrible crash." She sighed. "My tailpipe fell off. Right there in the street!"

"Your tailpipe? Or the muffler?"

She looked startled. "There's a difference?"

Vin had to grin at that. "Where's the car now?" he asked, already reaching for his jacket.

"I left it at a repair place near there."

"Terry's?" Vin asked. At her nod, he said, "That's good. Terry's a good guy. He'll fix it up just fine."

"He said it would be tomorrow. He didn't have a - whatever it was - in stock that would fit it. But he was really nice about it, said he could get one..."

Monica drove a sleek, custom designed Stealth. Terry was probably drooling at the thought of having it in his possession, even if for only a day.

Vin frowned. What would a woman who knew absolutely nothing about cars be doing with one like that anyway?

Before he could ask, Monica supplied the answer. She sighed. "That car is such a responsibility. I never owned one before. Either I drove my uncle's or when I got old enough I just leased one. The agency took care of all the upkeep. But...the Stealth was my cousin's-"

"Nina's?"

"What?" She frowned. "Oh, no. Another cousin." She stopped and swallowed hard; Vin could see tears sparkling on her long lashes before she quickly wiped them away.

The sight made him feel oddly protective. He moved closer to her. "Your cousin?" he prompted gently.

"He...died recently. About six months ago. He...He was always laughing at me about just driving whatever was available, so I felt like...Nina took his cat, I took his car." She laughed a little, wiping the last of the tears away with her fist in an oddly childlike gesture. "I think Nina made the easier choice! Pasha - the cat - takes care of himself. The car, on the other hand, seems to need something constantly!" She waved her hand, changing the subject. "Anyway, when I realized how close I was to your apartment, I walked over. I thought if you weren't home I could call a cab just as easily from here. But if you were-" She peeped at him from under thick eyelashes still damp from tears. "-Maybe we could go to lunch?"

Vin started to say he really ought to get to the office - Travis and Montgomery would probably want to know about what went down in Hugo, he had a report to file - but he didn't utter the words. Sammy Parker's dead body rose up in his memory again and he shut his eyes, trying to shut it away.

"Vin?"

Vin opened his eyes again. Monica looked worried - more than that, crystal teardrops trembled on her lashes again. "I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't-"

"No." Vin reached out and captured her hand, holding it tightly. He didn't know what to say, but finally rushed out the truth. "I'm glad you're here. You like Italian food? Luigi's has the best in town."

Five minutes later they'd left the apartment, headed - via Vin's jeep - for Luigi's Cafe Italiano. Vin's cell phone rested - forgotten -in the cushion of the chair where he'd tossed it.

Two minutes later, the shrill ring of the phone cut through the silence of the apartment.

It rang fifteen times before stopping.

tbc...