Don't Panic

Changing Lanes

Emma sipped her glass of wine. While everyone around her was on at least their fourth glass, she was still milking her first. It might have been because she's a lightweight, but mostly it was because she really didn't like red wine but thought it impolite to complain. Plus, if she had complained, Carter would have made fun of her mercilessly.

But it wouldn't have mattered now. Carter was snuggled (well maybe not snuggled, but they were awfully close) into a little corner with Tiffany Side, giggling the night away as they recounted their old intern days. Emma took another sip of wine and tried to ignore how sickening they were.

She cast her eyes around Drake and Mary's apartment, trying to find a distraction or someone to at least entertain her. She'd only recently gotten Allen to stop pestering her and now she was slightly regretting it. At least Allen, crude as he may be, was entertaining.

Lucky for Emma, entertainment found her. "You're Dr. Woodhouse," said none other than Dr. Jeremy Frank as he took the space beside her on the couch.

"Er. Yes. That's me," she replied awkwardly, moving over so he had more space.

"Yeah. I remembered."

"Because I'm the boss's daughter?"

Jeremy shook his head and smiled slightly. "No. Because you were the one that fainted when we first met."

Emma turned as pink as a nurse's scrubs. "I hadn't eaten all day," she muttered and tried to quell her blush. Jeremy just laughed heartily and cast his eyes over the room.

"What do you think they're talking about over there?" he asked shifting his gaze to where Tiffany was giggling full-force while Carter smiled triumphantly.

Emma shrugged. "How about the divine being that is Carter Knight?"

Jeremy laughed again. He had a nice hearty laugh that boomed across the room. For some reason it oddly reminded Emma of Santa Clause.

"So Carter's reputation is true, then? Supreme act of God in human form?" he asked, still eyeing the couple as they whispered conspiratorially.

Emma shrugged. "He's not that bad. Once you get to know him you realize it's just wrapped up insecurity." Emma watched as Jeremy examined the two doctors across the room. His eyes were lit with an unsettling discomfort. "Why? Do you have a problem with Carter?"

Jeremy snapped his eyes back to her and pierced his lips. "No, not Carter."

Emma titled her head to the side and evaluated him. She loved his stubble, and the brown hair with green eyes was a very suiting combination, but for some odd reason, despite his rugged handsomeness, Emma was strangely un-attracted. "Do you have a problem with Tiffany then?" she asked, her voice quieter.

Jeremy leaned closer and whispered even softer than Emma had. "What if I told you that Dr. Tiffany Side was a part of a torrid love affair with someone at work?"

Emma leaned back and shrugged. "It wouldn't surprise me. Did you know that 90 of the people at the hospital are sleeping with coworkers?"

Jeremy also leaned back and smirked. He loved knowing information that she didn't and seemed to be relishing in it. "Yeah, but the question is: Who is Tiffany sleeping with?"

Emma's brow creased as she pondered all the doctors around her. It wouldn't be George or Allen, or any first year resident for that matter. As horrible as it was for her to think it, she knew that Tiffany would choose someone at the top. She tried not to think about it, she pushed the thought clear out of her head, and instead spent the next three minutes imagining every doctor she knew with Tiffany aside from Carter.

She was only snapped out of a particularly funny daydream concerning Tiffany and the head of gynecology by the clinking of a fork against glass. "Everyone!" Drake shouted and immediately Tiffany's love life was out of sight, out of mind. "Everyone, we have an announcement," Drake shouted again, slightly louder than what was necessary. Obviously, Drake had had his share of wine. Mary, who stood calmly beside him with a smile plastered on her face, however, seemed quite sober.

"I love all of you for coming here!" Drake shouted jovially and Mary and Emma's eyes met in mirth. "But I'm afraid we lured you here under false pretenses. You see, we told you it was just some people- some people-" Drake suddenly bust out laughing. Emma tried not to join him.

Suddenly Mary rolled her eyes and gently pushed Drake back into his seat. "What my bumbling, fool of a boyfriend is trying to say, is that… I'm pregnant!" Mary finished with a squeak.

Emma didn't remember much after that. She was pretty sure she fainted.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Emma swatted by her head. That pesky fly. Come back here, pesky fly, and let me murderlize you, she sang in her head as she rolled around in her bed. Eventually, she heard a thud and awoke to a completely buzz free room to find her alarm clock in pieces across her floor and Carter glaring at her.

"You have the most annoying alarm clock ever," he growled and stomped out of the room.

"What'd you do that for?" she shouted as she chased him across the house to his bathroom, where he was shoving a toothbrush into his mouth. "You owe me a new alarm clock."

Carter eyed her in the mirror as he brushed his teeth and she shuffled under his scrutiny. She didn't know why, even after two weeks living in the same house, she still felt so exposed when he looked at her. Maybe it was the fact that Carter liked to walk around shirtless in the mornings leaving her plenty to look at.

"Next time, don't let it go off for twenty minutes and I won't have to break it," he muttered after spitting out his toothpaste foam and cupping water into his mouth.

"I was catching up on some sleep," she muttered, leaning against the doorframe as he finished rinsing out his mouth and grabbed a hand towel to wipe away excess foam.

He snorted into the towel and his eyes met hers with a twinkle. "Catching up on some sleep? Emma you were practically comatose. Drink a bit too much?"

"I hardly drank at all," she protested.

Carter snorted again, this time not bothering to muffle it. "Emma! You passed out at Drake's last night! I had to carry you back here."

"I was in shock!" she shouted and stormed out of the bathroom.

She dressed in haste and begrudgingly hopped in Carter's Jeep. He would casually let his eyes flicker off the road every now and then and she was quickly becoming frustrated every time she saw him shoot her that odd glance. "What do you want, Carter?" she shouted eventually as he was pulling into his parking space and she felt it would be less likely that he could kill them both.

"I was just wondering why you're so upset about this whole thing with Mary?" he asked after she quickly jumped out of the passenger side of the car and he did the same, jogging a little to catch up with her quick steps.

Emma suddenly stopped and whirled around, at the exact spot where the door's censors would flicker and the doors would open and close in rapid succession. "I just don't understand why Mary would throw her entire career away to mother Drake's child."

Carter was smiling slightly. "You make it sound as if Drake forced her to have his baby. She seemed pretty damn excited about it, if you ask me."

"Maybe I didn't ask you!" she shouted stomping off in a fit of rage so strong that she stomped right into the elevator, forgetting to bring a drink with her.

Carter slipped through the elevator doors just in time and stepped in line with her. As soon as the doors closed she became twitchy. It suddenly hit her how empty her hands were. Carter watched her closely as her breathing grew light and her face paled. Any minute she was going to have a panic attack. Carter quickly grabbed her hands and squeezed, forcing her to lock eyes with him. "Hey. Breathe," he ordered calmly holding her eyes until her breathing evened slightly.

As she calmed, a look of triumph crossed Carter face and he smiled broadly. Emma hated his cocky little dimples. "I can't believe you're afraid of elevators," he practically whooped.

Emma glared as the doors swung open and immediately dropped his hands to stomp out of the tiny room. She'd only made it about four steps before she bumped into something solid and crashed to the floor. When she opened her eyes she was staring at the hand of Dr. Jeremy Frank, who quickly helped her to her feet.

"Careful there," he said simply as he shoved a cup of coffee into her hand and Carter stood nearby in a huff.

"You got me coffee?" Emma asked, trying to draw attention away from her embarrassing collision.

Jeremy shrugged. "You seemed in pretty bad shape last night. I figured you'd need it."

Emma smiled full force. "Oh it's so nice to know that there are still good men out there in the world, unlike some people," she finished with a growl and a cruel look at Carter. Carter shot one right back at her and set off bitterly down the hall.

Jeremy smiled and handed her a chart. "I'm glad you think so, 'cause we'll be working together today."

By the time they'd reached their patient's room Carter was already sulking in the hall. He glared at Jeremy as soon as he laid eyes on him.

"This will be fun," Emma whispered sarcastically to Jeremy as she pulled out the chart and skimmed it over. Teenage pyromaniac turned burn victim. Emma knew the feeling. She'd loved fire as a child and once caught her hair on fire. "This seems pretty basic." Emma smiled up at Jeremy. "I'm guessing Dr. Knight's," she said with a glare, "doing some simple nerve reconstruction and you'll be skin grafting."

Dr. Frank nodded and held out a hand for the chart. "Yep."

"Do you need me for the consult?" she asked.

Before Jeremy could manage to respond, Carter interrupted. "Emma, I need you to take some stats for Taylor, and be ready for rounds in half an hour."

Emma shot him another glare and Jeremy a smile before setting off to Taylor's room.

Taylor Blythe had now been a patient for almost a month. Even living a month with a tumor of Taylor's magnitude was a miracle, but Emma had long since been pushing for Carter to take some sort of action to save her life. It was only a matter of time before this girl's condition rapidly declined and yet Carter had done nothing. He hadn't even talked to her family about her condition yet. Hell, he hadn't even called her family.

Emma was sick of it. Taylor Blythe deserved a fighting chance. She deserved a doctor that would take action and if Carter wouldn't step up, it would only be a few more days before Emma would.

"Knock, knock," she sang as she pressed open Taylor's door. "How's my favorite patient today?"

Taylor took a wheezy breath and glared. "Kind of pissed off actually," she said bitterly as she sat up to allow Emma to check her lungs with her cold stethoscope.

"Why?" Emma asked, cutting the sunshiny nurse act and scribbling in Taylor's rapidly thickening chart.

"You, actually. I know that you're thinking about taking my case to the Chief of Medicine," Taylor replied with an eyebrow raised and her lips pierced.

Emma's mouth dropped and she forgot all of her stats. "What? How did you- I didn't tell anyone."

Taylor made a frustrated noise. "You didn't have to. It's written all over your face."

Emma hated being talked to like that by a nineteen year old. "So? It would be for your best interest. You really want a doctor that doesn't take any action on your case?"

Taylor bit her lip. "Yes."

Emma found herself shocked and confused once again. "What?"

"I'm refusing the surgery, Emma. I'm not sure it's a risk I'm ready to take," she replied ominously.

"Not a risk? Without this surgery, you'll be lucky to last three months," Emma shot back in slight disbelief.

"So," Taylor said shrugging. "We all die eventually."

"Oh no, no, no!" Emma stopped fiddling with the machines and sat down on the edge of Taylor's bed. "You are not going all depressed teenager on me. You're a fighter Taylor. It doesn't matter what the odds are, you can still come out of this thing!"

Taylor fell back against her pillows in defeat. "I know the odds," she said slowly. "I probably know more than you think. I-" she stuttered over the word, her voice shaking, "I have a secret."

"A secret?" Emma was confused once again. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Taylor sighed. "You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me," Emma ordered.

Taylor bit her lip and shook her head.

"Is this the part where you tell me you see dead people? Because if you're having hallucinations it's probably because of the tumor," Emma rambled.

Taylor made another noise. "I don't see dead people."

"Then what is it?" Emma asked back solidly, showing that she'd never give up on this.

"I'm omnipotent," Taylor said evenly.

Emma opened her mouth to make a joke, but Taylor just sat there blinking at her in all seriousness. She suddenly stopped her retort, her mouth just hanging open with the unsaid words. She shot Taylor a bug-eyed look.

"Oh my God," Emma said once she'd found her voice again. "You're serious."

Emma was walking down the hall, her mind buzzing with Taylor's revelation. Maybe she was too medicated? Maybe she's just gone insane? Either way Emma couldn't understand what could make a perfectly logical girl think she was omnipotent.

Emma was so consumed by her thoughts that she almost walked by a nurse completely covered in blood.

"Excuse me, Miss," the nurse muttered to Emma before her knees gave out and she collapsed right there in the middle of the surgery ward.

Emma would have panicked, but her doctor's logic kicked in just in time. She pinched the back of the nurse's knee and the girl immediately jumped awake. "Wha-"

"Breathe," Emma commanded calmly just as Carter had done to her that morning and held her to the floor. "You fainted. You need to relax."

The nurse didn't try to sit up; she just flushed a deep pink. "I did? That's so embarrassing."

Emma smiled. "Don't worry. It happens to me all the time," Emma replied as she checked her pupils for any sign of a concussion. She'd hit her head pretty hard. "I think you'll be okay," Emma said and helped the young nurse to her feet.

"If I don't die of mortification," the nurse replied.

"This is a hospital. Stranger things have happened. After all, you could have a lemon tumor and be fairly insane," Emma said smiling slightly at the nurse's blank stare. "First surgery?"

The nurse nodded. "Yeah. It was intense," she said slightly breathless.

"I'm guessing you had a bleeder. It happens," Emma finished with a shrug. "I'm Emma," she added extending a hand.

"I'm Ellie," the nurse replied taking her hand with a gracious smile.

Emma rushed into the operating room, a nurse helping her into her gloves and coat and smiled meekly at the two doctors, already at work.

"Where have you been?" Carter asked, sounding deeply perturbed.

"Don't you worry about me," Emma replied brightly with a smile that was concealed by her mask. "I just had a bit of an emergency."

"Is everything alright?" Jeremy asked. He was still on the sidelines, waiting for Carter to finish before he could step in and work his magic. That was the part Emma was most looking forward to; Dr. Frank in action.

"It's fine," she replied bobbing her head. "A nurse just fainted, is all. I was just bringing her to."

Carter coughed, glaring at the two of them, and holding a scalpel menacingly. "I'm about to do a very complex surgery," he said darkly. "Do you think your conversation could wait just a bit?" he asked sarcastically.

Emma glared. Jeremy just shrugged lightly, obviously smiling. "I suppose it could, but don't be too long Doctor. I'm dying to hear the rest."

Carter said nothing, his concentration fully on his surgery, but it was obvious by his dubious movements that he'd heard him. No matter what Jeremy had claimed, it was oddly apparent that the two men were a part of some heated rivalry. The tension between them was that of cheated lovers and Emma suddenly wondered if it were possible that two doctors found solace in the arms of Tiffany Side.

As Carter's prolonged operation finally came to a close, he shot Jeremy another heated look and walked out of the O.R. angrily and without another word. The only noise he made was the snap, as he ripped off his mask and sticky latex gloves while passing through the door.

Emma hardly bothered to ponder Carter's intense overreaction. She was too consumed in watching Jeremy expertly command his operation with speedy precision, as she peered over his shoulder. The man was a wizard with a scalpel and his stitches were a work of medical art. When Emma left that operating room, she was still in awe of the magician that was Dr. Jeremy Frank.

Emma was waving her hands frantically in the air. "Mary! Mary! Over here!" Mary stared at her best friend, she hadn't been called across a cafeteria since high school. And who was that weird girl sitting in the seat usually reserved for Mary? Had she fallen asleep that night a doctor and awoken a high school student again?

"Mary, this is Ellie. She's a new nurse," Emma offered proudly as if offering Ellie up as a sacrifice or a trophy.

"Hi," Ellie replied meekly as she feebly lifted one hand and dropped it quickly.

"Sit, sit," Emma commanded pointing to the seat across from her. Mary tried not to scowl; she had always had the seat right beside Emma. The seat that was now filled with Ellie? Yep, she was definitely back in high school.

The three women chatted feebly for the next ten minutes, the conversation dominated by Emma. Mary was still too offended to speak easily and Ellie was far too passive to voice her opinions. Suffice to say, the conversation was slightly lacking. Luckily, Ellie's pager quickly buzzed and she reluctantly departed from the table.

"So what's up with the new girl?" Mary asked, scooting over a chair to resume her usual spot.

Emma smiled. "Ellie? Do you like her?"

Mary nodded. "She seems nice, but… why are you suddenly befriending nurses?" It wasn't some great prejudice that Mary had that turned her against Ellie. It was just that doctors and nurses hardly ever became good friends and Emma had never made any effort to reform that, prior to meeting Ellie. Plus, maybe Mary was a bit jealous.

"Why are you suddenly having babies?" When Emma was younger she'd commonly been perceived to be a bit of a bitch. It wasn't because she truly was a bitch; it was just that Emma said things without stopping to consider that people might get offended. Emma spoke first, thought later. Carter commonly made fun of her for it.

Mary was confused for a couple of seconds. "Are you trying to replace me because I'm pregnant?" she asked bluntly. Mary too had been avoided when she was younger, not for being a bitch but for the fact that she could assess a problem before normal people had even realized there was a problem.

Emma snorted. "That's ridiculous."

"But it's true, isn't it? Is that why you fainted last night?" Mary asked continuing her honest line of questioning. "You're mad at me because I'm pregnant?"

Emma was quiet for a very long time. Had Carter seen Emma while she was that silent, he would have assumed it wasn't really Emma. He'd have done anything for the ability to shut Emma up for that long. Mary, however, would have done anything for Emma to say she was being ridiculous and that she was "totally psyched about the baby." But Emma said nothing.

"Emma?" Mary asked in shock. "You don't really think that do you?"

Emma continued her silence.

"Emma! The last thing I ever wanted was to get pregnant at the age I am. Obviously, you think that either this baby is going to ruin my career or our friendship, but you should know before you really do ruin our friendship that having this baby is something I really want."

Emma looked up at her best friend. "Maybe you want it now…" she replied under her breath.

Mary shook her head and had to pull her dropped jaw back up. "No. You're wrong Emma. I'm not like you. There are things I want more than scoring the most complex surgery. I want a life outside this damned hospital."

"I just think," Emma continued delicately while avoiding eye contact, "that you're going into this rather quickly. I mean, you're not even married."

"You think I'm going to get hurt?"

Emma nodded reluctantly and tried to force a smile that merely resembled a pathetic grimace. "I'm just scared for you, that's all."

Mary relaxed against the pathetic cafeteria chair and shot her best friend a grateful smile. The source of Emma's reluctance was something Mary could relate to. All those fears Emma felt for the sake of Mary, were felt by Mary as well; with even more on top. What if the baby didn't like her? What if Drake decided he didn't love her anymore? What if she lost everything she had worked her whole life for? "Tell me about it. I'm scared shitless."

"Daddy?" Emma knocked lightly on her father's office door and popped her head through the crack in the door. "Do you have a minute?"

Dr. Woodhouse was a busy man. He ran a very successful hospital and had spent his entire life learning everything he could about every little crack and crevice of that hospital. He loved the place, it was his real home. He looked up from an e-mail from some insurance company and waved his hand for Emma to come in. "Dr. Woodhouse, what can I do for you?"

Emma hated that he called her Dr. Woodhouse. She wanted to talk to her father, not her boss. "Well it's just…" Emma began hesitantly as she sat in one of his uncomfortable visitor's chairs and felt extremely small again. Just like Mary she was a teenager again, vulnerable and at her daddy's command.

"Just what?" he asked solidly. Emma wished he'd smile of soften, but if he had, he wouldn't be the man she'd always know. Dr. Woodhouse was not a "soft" man.

"I-I've been think a bit about my future." Emma had initiated this conversation once before, when she was in college and was considering telling her father that she'd rather not go to medical school like they'd planned. She'd never actually gotten past the initiation on that case, but today Emma was determined. "And I've been thinking that maybe Neurology isn't the best option for me."

"You want to change your specialty?" he asked solidly, his dark eyes burning into her. She shifted. This was exactly how the conversation had gone last time.

"Well, yes." Emma refused to be sixteen years old again.

"To what?"

"Plastics." Dr. Woodhouse continued to stare and there was a deafening silence. Eventually Emma nervously continued her point as she tried to fill the silence. "I've been doing some work with Dr. Frank and I've always been very interested in the field and I just thought maybe it was something I should try to… look into."

There was more silencing staring. "You want to do plastics?" he asked dumbly, but still with a superior wisdom.

"Well… ye-es?"

Dr. Woodhouse took a very deep breath. "Although I do have the utmost respect for Dr. Frank and plastics, I don't think this is a decision that I'm ready to endorse." Another thing she hated about her father: he spoke like a politician. It was such a politically correct answer, just vague enough that it couldn't be misconstrued.

"Maybe I don't need your support on it. Maybe it's a decision I've already made," Emma challenged.

"Then why are you here? I can only assume you're asking my permission because you still have doubts on the topic." Emma bit back an angry retort and contorted her face to express her unsaid anger. "Why don't you do a bit more work with Dr. Frank as well as continuing your work with Dr. Knight and see how you feel about the change in a couple of months?"

Emma almost smiled. It wasn't a direct shoot-down as she'd expected. It was her father's version of a "maybe." A "maybe" she could work with.

"Dr. Woodhouse, could I ask for your assistance?" It was Drake. No, worse than that; it was a Drake that couldn't stop smiling. A smiley-faced Drake. Emma almost felt queasy at the thought.

"Sure." She begrudgingly followed Drake into the supply closet and held out her arms as he filled them with supplies. Gauze, disinfectant, latex gloves, a crash kit? What was all this for? "Erm, Drake?" she asked behind the pile of supplies. "What's all this for?"

"I have a patient that's under distress. He's going to have to spend the next twelve hours under constant surveillance. Not going to be fun, I tell you." He grabbed a few granola bars out of the box that some clever doctor had hidden in there and dropped them onto the stack.

"You are? But doesn't Mary have her sonogram today?" Emma asked as she popped her head around the side of the pile.

Drake winced and his smile faltered momentarily. "Yes. I'm pretty pissed I'm going to miss it, but Mary says she'll be fine."

"Oh. So she's going alone?" Emma tried to keep the derision out of her voice. "Tried" was the operable word.

"I know what you're thinking," Drake shot back, but he was still smiling. His happiness seemed impenetrable. "You think that Mary and I are getting in way over our heads." The truth in his statement was written all over Emma's face, so she kept it hidden behind the pile of crap. Drake sighed, but remained just as smiley as before. "It's crazy, isn't it? One moment all I want out of my life is to keep a high survival rate in surgery and make sure I can perform an appendectomy with my eyes closed, and suddenly all I want is… well to know that I'm going to be a good father."

Emma snorted. "Make sure you're a good father?" Emma was shaking in anger and a couple of granola bars slid off the top of her pile. "What about what Mary wants? Maybe she still has her whole life ahead of her and you're going to let her just give up her amazing future so that you can be a daddy?"

Drake was still smiling. "You honestly think I'd let her have my baby if I wasn't absolutely sure she wanted to? You make it sound as though I tied her up and forced her into this."

"Metaphorically, yes. I think that's exactly what you're doing."

Drake rolled his eyes. "I love Mary and as a doctor I know how much potential she has. I'm not an idiot, Emma."

"Then don't let her do it."

Drake shrugged, but couldn't hide his worry. "It's not my decision, Emma. I'm supporting her in whatever she chooses. If she's happy, I'm happy."

Emma quickly shoved the pile into Drake's arms, dropping more than half of it in the process and glared. "Well, I'm not happy about it and someday, when you can't remember the old thrill of surgery and you're so tired you can't function, you won't be either."

"Have you seen it yet?" Carter affronted her as soon as she escaped the supply closet, where she'd left a flabbergasted Drake in a pile of junk.

"What?" she snapped still reeling from the argument. Like Mary was actually happy about this baby! She was just too scared of Drake to say that she didn't want it. Mary didn't want that life!

Carter backed off and raised his eyebrows. "Hey Dragon lady! I was just asking if you'd seen pyro-boy."

"He woke up?" she asked quickly relaxing. This was medical talk. Medical talk she could do, it was the emotional crap that left her at a loss. "Did you do any sensory tests yet?"

Carter nodded. "Of course."

"And?" she prodded, trying to suppress the urge to slap him for tantalizing her.

Carter smiled and remained silent on the topic. "Before I say anything, may I first make fun of you for befriending a nurse. A nurse, Em? And to think I thought you had standards."

Emma really did slap him this time, but it was on the arm and only caused Carter to laugh maniacally. "Emma loves nurses!" he sang. "Emma wishes she were a nurse!"

Others were beginning to stare and Emma tried not to laugh. He sounded like an idiot when he tried to sing. Once again "tried" being the operable word.

"Although, secretly I knew you didn't have standards. You hang out with some real weirdoes," Carter continued as she followed him down the hallway.

Emma nodded and smiled. "You think they're weird? You should meet my roommate. He's a real psychopath."

"Oh, ha, ha," Carter laughed sarcastically. "You've always been so funny," he finished dryly.

Emma smiled again. "I think so."

Carter stopped in front of pyro-boy's door and covered the entrance with his body. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Carter's miraculous… miracle."

Emma laughed, pushed him aside and went through the door. Carter following closely behind her. "Check it out," the boy said before Emma could even ask about his prognosis. It took her a few minutes to realize what she was supposed to be watching. But there it was; an insignificant wiggle of a heavily charred and swollen arm.

"Don't be too impressed by my brilliance," Carter muttered into her ear with his cocky smile back. "You might faint again."

Go in.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Emma realized that she was staring at a door and imagining it was talking to her.

She's your best friend. Go in and support her like a best friend should.

She thought the door was a bit naive. It wasn't quite as simple as that. If she went in, would she be an unprincipled hypocrite? If she didn't, would she be a horrible friend?

She needs you.

The door was right. Emma may have been slightly insane, but she knew what true friendship was and if that meant damning her principles, she'd do it. Whatever it took to let Mary know that Emma would always love her, even if she was about to become a swollen watermelon of a woman.

"Emma," a relived voice breathed as Emma grabbed her best friend's hand and held it tightly. "I'm so glad- ooh cold!" she hissed at the nurse, forgetting her train of thought, as she squeezed the blue gel onto Mary's stomach.

Mary seemed nervous, that was obvious. Was it possible that Mary was just as intimidated by this baby as Emma was? Emma gripped her hand a bit tighter as a fuzzy black and white image appeared on the small screen. "Oh wow," Emma whispered. "Look at it."

Mary's eyes were watery and Emma cleared them with her hand so Mary could make out the screen better.

"That's the head," the nurse smiled sweetly, an action that normally annoyed Emma to no end, but was lost on her at the moment.

"Oh Emma! Do you see it?" Mary asked excitedly, no longer nervous but ecstatic beyond Emma's belief. Emma had never seen someone's emotion's change so quickly. It was a roller coaster that Emma could only watch and never understand. Mary's eyes were watering again. "It's like a little alien living inside my stomach."

Emma giggled through her own watery eyes; babies have that effect, even on the most emotionally unattached women. If she was feeling but a fraction of Mary's happiness at that moment, she wondered how Mary didn't explode with all that emotion. "It looks more like a lima bean to me, Mare."

I hadn't planned on posting just yet. You see I haven't actually finished the story. Ok I actually only finished this one chapter. Progress on this one has been slow. But I'm updating because I didn't want people to get restless. So that's it. I hope you can enjoy it because it might have to tide you over for a bit.

La-da-da-da-da... dum-dum dum-dum. Review, to the tune. (Did that make any sense?)