Chapter 9
AN: A day early as tomorrow is a travel day; work trip is over and I get to return home after being away for over a month.
Coffee Units consumed: 1 can
Cigars Smoked: My Father Le Bijou 1922
Cigar Lounges visited while on the trip: Barclay Rex's and the Carnegie Club's outdoor lounges
Some quotes are taken from Season 5 Episode 19
Several weeks had passed, and the cold of February had started to thaw into March as did the once frosty feeling Elizabeth held for Robert. She had been spending more of her free time with him since the day in the park, grabbing drinks after work, walks around the lake with Gretel, and just coffee in the lounge when their time was scarce. Elizabeth has been surprised at how quickly they had fallen into an easy friendship and how much she was coming to savor the time she spent with Robert. By some miracle, they had managed to hide their newfound friendship from the workplace gossips.
Elizabeth's testimony in Robert's favor had also been kept quiet, and she suspected that had more to do with Kerry Weaver not wanting to make a fool of herself with the unsubstantiated sexual harassment complaint she had led against Robert. It turned out that another staff member had overheard Robert giving Doyle a hard time, and it consisted of snide comments about ER residents not being fit to play surgeon. Doyle's fuck off, much to Robert's glee was also witnessed along with his response 'noted, that's all you had to say.' Needless to say, Robert had refused to change the performance evaluation. Elizabeth had snidely made a comment to him in the ER that day about the Bullet-Headed Committee in front of Weaver, and they took great enjoyment laughing about her discomfort over drinks that night.
Today, however, it wasn't her budding friendship with Rocket Romano that concerned her; it was Carol. One of Elizabeth's few female friends in the states, she had been repeated feeling ill since Doug Ross had left Chicago. Elizabeth didn't know if Carol was just depressed or if there was something else making her friend ill, but she was beginning to become concerned. Mark Greene has looped her into the constant headaches Carol was having, and they had teamed up in their mutual concern. They had become tentative friends between their concern for Carol and their patient, Mobalage.
It turns out Carol was pregnant. The next few weeks would be rough as Elizabeth tried to be a supportive friend, and she had enough on her plate as it was. Sooner rather than later, Elizabeth would be done with her internship and would have her medical license; she needed a plan of what came next.
That's where her brilliant idea formed. Elizabeth had come to the states to pursue trauma surgery, and Carol's pursuits of an ER clinic had inspired her to try her luck at advocating for a Trauma Surgical Fellowship run through the ER. Her growing friendship with Mark had made it easy to suggest the need for such a fellowship and conveniently bypass Kerry Weaver, who still couldn't look her in the eye. Mark didn't understand the uncomfortableness Kerry seemed to have developed with her but found it amusing. Another ally in the ER was important for her considering she had burned the bridge with Weaver and Doyle in a blaze of glory.
For all of her newfound friendships, Elizabeth was still trying to maintain the one she had with Peter, and today she glimpsed the real level of disdain Peter and Robert had for each other. She had been shocked to see Peter at work that morning, and it was apparently due to Robert. Robert had offered to back Peter in a bid for a Cardiothoracic fellowship and was determined to show off his surgical skills to Dr. Weinstein, the surgeon running it. That meant dragging Peter into work early and being pissy when Peter was tied up on the phone. Elizabeth felt for Peter's predicament with his son but secretly agreed with Robert's suggestion of a nanny, if just not the way he delivered it.
"Get out now, Elizabeth." Peter was still on hold, trying to once again speak to the manufacturer of his son's hearing aids.
"What?"
"In a few months, you'll have your license and your pick of fifth-year residences."
"Well it's alright, I think I've found a way to ah get what I want." She was purposefully vague, knowing that Peter was actually suggesting she get as far away from Robert as she could.
"Oh yeah, and what is that? Are you going to throw garlic at him?"
Oh yes, Peter was definitely talking about getting away from Robert.
"No, trauma surgery, a fellowship run out of the ER; it would start in July."
"I didn't know there was a trauma fellowship."
"Well, there wasn't." Elizabeth had a smug look on her face. "Look, trauma's the reason I came to the states in the first place, and the hours are better, and I'd have some semblance of a normal life." She was quite pleased with herself for coming up with the fellowship and left Peter to deal with the hearing aid company.
The afternoon had wiped the smug smirk off of Elizabeth's face. A short talk with Carol left her feeling bad for having little time to spend supporting her friend, whose life was spinning out of control. Ultimately there wasn't much Elizabeth could do until Carol first chose what course to set, and she had to make that decision for herself. Then she was cornered by Mark Greene.
Mark Greene was trying to help their patient seek asylum, and her heart went out to the man after what he had been through. Elizabeth's heart, however, was not going out to Mark Greene. He wanted her to falsify a chart when he had already sent the patient's lawyer to inform the judge that Mobalage was being readmitted to the hospital and thus couldn't be deported. Mark had no way of knowing just how much trouble her last lie had cost her. As much as she wanted to help, she couldn't. Elizabeth was sure that while Anspaugh was taking no disciplinary actions against her for her actions in her testimony, she felt confident that he was watching her every move carefully. Thankfully it turned out that Elizabeth's help wasn't needed. Mobalage's lawyer had spoken to the judge before Mark had even approached her and called BS, stating that they were stalling. The judge gave them an extra day to get a statement for asylum, and after that, a decision would be madeāno need for her to lie in the first place.
Her day, however, got worse. Peter. Bloody. Benton. A chance run-in with him after his surgery with Weinstein and she confronted him about going to Weaver about the Trauma Fellowship. Arse. She'd spent the past year clawing her way out of a hole she dug only for him to start shoveling dirt on top of her. Some friend. She was off at a decent time for once, and with Robert off to his regularly scheduled boys' night, she though a call home would be appropriate. At that point, Elizabeth didn't care which surgeon in her family she got a hold of, just as long as one answered.
She was in luck. Andrew answered on the third ring and gave an excited shout of "Its Elizabeth!" when he heard her voice. Apparently, the male surgeons everywhere were having a boys' night, as her father and godfather were at Andrew's having a nightcap. Not quite three sheets to the wind due to it being a Thursday, they managed to put her on speaker and let her have a rant about her day and the stupid American men that had riled her up.
Malcolm Cameron was by far the winner of the Bad Influence of the Year AwardTM and, as such, howled with laughter when she recounted her conversation with Benton. 'Cardiothoracic isn't really working out' she had mimicked and proceeded to tell her surgical elitist family how she brazenly threw out that maybe it was because Benton didn't know a mitral valve repair from an aortic valve repair. Elizabeth could make out her godfather shouting "yes, lass!" Over her father's laughter. Elizabeth was surprised to learn that Peter Benton hadn't made such a good impression on her father when Charles Corday commented that "she desperately needed to find a higher caliber of surgeons to work with and preferably not sanctimonious prima donnas that couldn't recognize a good thing when it happened to them." More laughter came from the Corday/Cameron Surgical family at that.
The conversation didn't last much longer due to the late hour in London. Elizabeth asked after her godmother Helena, who had recently spent a week living in her studio when Malcolm was assigned the graveyard shift for telling a fellow surgeon to kiss his arse in Galiec. It wasn't the first time and said surgeon finally found someone willing to translate the rude phrase. Helena Cameron was not pleased and spent roughly three hours on the phone with Elizabeth one-night ranting about the stupidity of men. Asking about her godmother inevitably lead to the question of if Elizabeth's mother speaking to her again, and the answer was no as Isabelle Corday hadn't forgiven her daughter for one becoming a surgeon and two moving to another country. Eventually, her menfolk started to yawn, and Elizabeth got off the phone, leaving them in the care of Hypnos and the promise that she would write soon.
The following weeks found Elizabeth trying to juggle work, exploring new take out options with a ravenous Carol, weekly drinks with Robert, and surprisingly Chief of Surgery paperwork. Anspaugh had been thrilled with her work when she lent a hand back in February, and with Robert managing the ER, making it home to dinner with his daughter every night was slowly becoming a possibility with just a little additional help. It started with Anspaugh bringing up his daughter's dance recital. He cornered her with 'Elizabeth do you think I could trouble you, there's not much to finish today' and had slowly it turned it into every Friday at four Anspaugh would catch her attention to pass off a small stack of paperwork as he left to spend time with his daughter.
Robert had laughed the first time Anspaugh shoves a stack of paperwork in her and high tailed it to the elevator. He called it the Anspaugh AmbushTM and bought her a drink, letting her grumble about 'the nerve of rude American men doing as they please.' Robert's response of 'ok Charles' broke her cross mood making her laugh, and he promised to buy her a drink for every time she got ambushed. The second time it happened, Elizabeth found Robert waiting for her by the elevators at the end of the day with his own stack of paperwork for the ER, and a ritual was formed. Friday nights in March became reserved for going to Elizabeth's flat, ordering take out and muddling through their respective admin. Elizabeth was learning more about Robert every time and each week look forward to their Friday ritual more than the last.
The end of March had arrived, bringing all the glories of spring with it and a chance for Elizabeth to shine professionally. She was presenting on a panel for the Chicago Society of Trauma physicians, and the timing couldn't be better with Anspaugh formally announcing that the hospital was going forward with the trauma fellowship.
Elizabeth's morning had been packed between surgery and a trauma; consequently, the congenial mood she had strived to maintain towards Benton soured in trauma one. He had gotten cross with her for taking a trauma as it came in instead of paging him from god only knows where. Elizabeth left to head back to the surgical floor rather than get persnickety over who was running the trauma. She caught the elevator last minute and stepped in.
"Going my way?"
"If you're going to the OR, I am." Elizabeth crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall of the elevator. Robert noticed her mood and took a step towards her.
"Why so glum on this bright spring day?"
"I've got a lot on my mind." As much as Elizabeth appreciated Robert's company, she was cross and had no desire to be confronted by Robert. It seemed that he could read her far too well these days and more than likely had heard about the trauma fellowship by now, something she had avoided talking with him about the past few weeks.
"Would that be the trauma fellowship I hear you've applied for?" His question was spot on and delivered with just the tiniest bit of hurt that she thought was due to her not saying anything to him about it.
"Yup, it might be."
"I'll have to invite myself to sit on the selection committee, Anspaugh says you've got a fighting chance."
The petty part of Elizabeth that was cross with Peter took advantage of her desire not to have this conversation with Robert and changed the topic.
"Hmm, I did have before Peter decided to apply." It was underhanded, and Elizabeth knew it, but all she wanted to do was find Carol's newly acquired stash of snack and eat them while complaining about men.
"Peter's applied for the trauma fellowship?" Elizabeth could hear the shock in Robert's voice though he hid it well.
"Yeah, haven't you heard?"
"Ah no," Robert let out a forced laugh, "no, I must be out of the loop."
"Well, I'm sure he was planning on telling you." The elevator opened with a ding, and they stepped out, headed in opposite directions. The gauntlet had been thrown down. Take that Benton.
After a long and pissy day dealing with the end run that Peter Benton had delivered by applying for the Trauma Fellowship, Robert just wanted to be done for the day. It was, however, still early enough that he thought he could catch part of the Trauma Conference Elizabeth was speaking at. He might not be thrilled that she hadn't mentioned her plans with the fellowship, but he still wanted to be supportive.
Robert managed to make it to the hotel hosting the conference, shortly after it started. Slipping in the back, he looked up at the panel, trying to find Lizzy, and she wasn't there. He knew she had left work well before him, and there was no trauma in the ER to page her away before he left. Robert stayed and kept glancing at his watch as it got later and later and still no Elizabeth, hoping that nothing had happened to her on the way to the conference. By the end of the conference, he had discreetly paged her on his cell several times and gotten nothing back.
Just great. First, Benton pisses him off with his backstabbing maneuver, and then he goes to a Trauma Conference to support Lizzy, but there's no Lizzy to support. Thankfully there was a bar in the hotel. Robert could grab a drink and call Max and see if he was free for drinks, something good had to come out of a wasted Saturday.
Robert had left a message on Max's machine and was sipping his scotch, waiting for a call back when he saw a flash of red hair across the room. Lizzy had finally shown up and with Greene of all people.
"Lizzy!" He waved her over and was greeted with a relieved smile.
"Robert!" And she went right into his arms for a hug. "I hate today," She said, leaning back from him just enough to see his face.
"You hate today?" Robert adopted a teasing tone, all grumpiness forgotten with her lingering in his arms. "Elizabeth, I just sat through the most god-awful trauma conference to be supportive of you, and you didn't show. I had to get a scotch to deal with the trauma of what I just sat through."
"Ha. Ha. Ha. You think you're so clever." Lizzy stepped out of his embrace and grabbed his scotch, knocking it back in one go and pulling a face.
"Christ Robert, what are you drinking? Ugh."
Robert laughed at her. The queen of scotch was vulnerable, after all. "It's called scotch, Lizzy, your favorite drink."
She shot him a dirty look.
"Robert. That tasted like Macallan."
"Look at you; you know your scotch." Robert was impressive that she could tell that by taste, considering how quickly she had downed it.
"I um, I don't think we can be friends. I thought you were an intelligent man of discerning taste, and I turn my back for one moment, and you show off your philistine roots by drinking Macallan. And here I was so hopeful for you."
He shook his head ever so slightly at her, enjoying the teasing tone in her voice and the smile that was trying to break through the smirk.
"Lizzy, Lizzy, Lizzy, I never you were such a snob." They broke into laughter, neither able to keep up a straight face.
Robert turned to the bartender and order two Lagavulins neat, whatever had held Elizabeth and Greene up was a reason to drink by the look on her face. Greene. In Robert's delight at finding Lizzy he had forgotten that Mark Green was with her and standing behind her, mouth slightly opened as he tried to process what was going on.
Elizabeth has seemingly forgotten about Greene as well because she took a seat at the bar and turned towards Robert in anticipation of telling him just what the hell had happened that afternoon.
"Uhhh," Greene spoke, or tried to. Robert didn't care so long as he continued to sound unintelligent around Lizzy.
"Mark close your mouth; we are not a codfish."
Snickering ensued at that, and Robert did nothing to hide it earning him a weak glare from Greene and an eye roll from Lizzy. Green, unfortunately, regained enough brain function to sit down at the open seat to Lizzy's left just as the two scotches arrived. The bartender turned expectantly to Greene.
"I'll have what they're having."
"Dr. Greene, I didn't know you were a scotch drinker." Robert was enjoying watching Greene try to keep up with what was going on. The only response the man could make was to shrug his shoulders. Whatever. So long as Greene continued to do the right thing by looking like an idiot, Robert would happily tolerate his presence. Robert didn't wait for Greene's drink to arrive and instead started with cheers with Lizzy.
"So, where the hell were you? I know you left before I did."
"I couldn't get a bloody cab" Elizabeth launched into her story, turning toward Robert as she talked, their knees just barely touching. "Some foul git got in the cab just as I was about to, and in my frustration, I dropped all of my slides for the conference. Right about that time Mark appeared and helped me collect them all and suggested we take the EL."
Robert groaned. He knew where this was going, and it was one of the many reasons he hated public transportation. So very unreliable on the weekend.
"Elizabeth, you have a car, why didn't you take that to start?"
"I didn't want to deal with it in case I was running late." He read between the lines on that easily.
"You mean it's giving you trouble again, and you're just refusing to acknowledge it." She was quiet and ignoring him at that. "Lizzy, do you need a ride next week?"
"Maybe." A soft smile, and then she continued. As he guessed, the train was an express on weekends, and Greene's suggestion to take it made them drastically late. Flustered at being so tardy, Elizabeth rushed and took the stairs revealing that to her horror, the door opened to a basement room where they got locked in. They had been rescued shortly after the conference ended and decided that there was a desperate need for alcohol.
"And then I found you here. I must say I was pleasantly shocked to see you; I think it's the highlight of my day." Greene looked offended at that comment but said nothing; he was too busy making a face as he sipped on the Islay single malt. Not a man used to drinking the good stuff. Robert finished off his own scotch, pleased that seeing him was the highlight of Elizabeth's day and decided to push his luck and held out his hand.
"What?" The confusion on her face was adorable.
"They're playing the tango." Elizabeth looked from Robert's face to his hand and then back up again.
"I don't know the tango."
"Then let me lead Lizzy."
A moment of hesitation and then she put her hand in his. It fit perfectly. Robert pulled her to her feet and led them in the direction of the music, leaving a stunned Mark Green behind.
