Chapter 3
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Pinned to the bed in stunned silence, Carter shook his head to clear his confusion. With quickening realization forming tension between his eyes, he surmised that this was no dream. Although the non-sequitor nature of Abby's words and actions fit the profile of some crazy, food-borne illness-induced nightmare. His blood thrummed in his ears as he jumped from the bed, feet barely registering the icy floor, then gathered up and simultaneously pulled on his clothes.
"Oh, no you don't, Lockhart," muttering through tight lips, Carter bounded out of the bedroom and through the door like a shot. 'Take it easy, John,' he thought, 'you don't want to bust your ass,' as he stutter-stepped down the steep staircase. He rounded the last turn and pushed out of the door in a fugue. Stopping long enough to get his bearings, he sighted her and took off again.
"What in hell, is going on?" he spat out, grabbing her arm and forcing her around to face him. "Abby, correct me if I'm wrong -but we connected back there, for the first time in months and you just..." lowering his voice, "You just walk out! You just-" imitating her, "give me my key back, Carter. Take your time, Carter," he was really building steam now, "...get the HELL OUT OF MY LIFE, Carter..." His face, red from exertion and anger, twitched with effort to remain in control. Watching her for any sign of contrition, he let his hand drop from her arm and ran it, instead, through his uncombed hair. Seeing her unable to meet his gaze, deflated his agitation. His breath, dammed-up from frustration, came out in a quiet rush and then quietly, "Abby, what is going on? What happened?" he pleaded.
Her tone flat, Abby turned her defiant chin up, intoning dully, "Nothing happened, Carter. Nothing EVER just happens. You should know that. You're the one who told me..." Turning her head, she fixed her gaze away from him.
"What does that mean? What? do you want me to read your moods, now, Abby?" Cheap shot, but he took it, "You want me to put the index card of clues-"
"Carter, stop it. I have to get to-"
" -you've given me to my forehead and GUESS what's going on-"
"-work, I am going to be late-"
"-is that what you want?"
"-Weaver's pissed at the construction and she'll-"
"-Well, I can't, Abby-"
"-take it out on me if I get there-"
"-I can't do it -I never-"
"-LATE!!"
"-COULD!"
He felt ridiculous. Having some lover's quarrel out in the street; this wasn't his style. "Abby," making effort to control his new-awakened temper, "come back up to the apartment. Call Weaver-"
"Romano's ER chief, now," she interjected.
"-Romano, hell, WHOever! Tell them you will be late-"
"I don't want to be late, Carter." She fixed him with her most intractable stare.
"Tell them you will be late and let's talk this out!" he finished, exasperated.
Momentarily, she looked away. She looked back at him, her lips twisted in an attempted smile, "Carter, I know you are lonely and hurt. I was fully prepared to welcome you home, if you'd have me. But," at this she let out a sardonic chuckle, "...even I have a line in the sand, Carter. I know I don't deserve you. I am a drunk, I smoke -hell, I'm a walking laundry list of 'Things Potential Mates Should Avoid' but I know you came back to my place looking for comfort of the physical kind... I know, you made it crystal-clear, that you don't want to be with me-"
"I never made that remotely clear, Abby, because I don't FEEL it..."
She barked out a laugh now, "Oh, no, Carter, you didn't feel it." Checking his face for signs of recognition, "The restaurant you bought out, Carter? The long speech about 'people change' -God, I wish I'd seen that one coming!- The ring?" Seeing his face change, a blush spread over his cheeks, she rushed on, "Oh, yes. I found the ring. I grabbed your coat, that night, to hang it up...? Yeah. The ring just fell out of your pocket, Carter, 'blop' right there on my kitchen table."
"The timing wasn't right... You said you thought people never..." Embarrassed, he changed directions, "God, Abby -I didn't know you knew about the ring..." It was his turn to look away, unable to make eye-contact.
"I suspected at the restaurant, you know? A swanky place like that -no customers but us? I'm not a complete idiot, Carter... I put two and two together. I just hoped, against hope, you wouldn't do anything so... so foolish..." Her words fading, Abby grew pensive, "And yet, Carter, I was let down when I saw that ring..." He felt a twinge of guilt. He was able understand the fool she must have felt that night. But that wasn't his intention. Not once.
"I never intended you to know, I was afraid that we were going in opposite directions, Abby."
"No. You think I'm screwed up. And I agree. See? Same direction." She threw this at him.
Why did she always do this? AAAuughg! "It is impossible to talk to you." It hadn't always been... "You fit everything I say -everything I do, into that script running in the back of your mind. That 'nothing will ever be good, my life sucks' script, Abby. I don't want to play that part -I wasn't there to help you author that shit and yet, you forced me into it! Didn't you?" His nerves shot, his lust for battle almost spent, Carter turned around and leaned against the brick wall of her building for support. He was really beginning to feel his exhaustion.
"I never forced you into anything. I warned you -you ignored me." Her cheeks flushed with anger, "You came back and you came to me but it could have been anyone." Eyes flashing, she continued, "It doesn't matter, now, anyway. We tried, but we failed to make ourselves lovers -we were friends. We should have stayed that way."
"I didn't come to you, straight off an overnight flight, because I was horny, Abby. It didn't happen with just anyone, either, it happened with us. But you go ahead and make of it what you want, because that is what you will do anyway, isn't it?" He cocked his head at her, looking for some remnant of the woman in the bed upstairs. But no, she was long gone. Elvis had checked out of the place...
Abby shifted uncomfortably, glanced at the cracks in the sidewalk and quickly back up at Carter, "I have to go to work. Now. I don't know what this means for us," He saw uncertainty flit across her face, but too soon, she replaced it with resolve, "but I know we should step back and let things cool down, uh, cool down a bit... before..."
"Uh, yeah," he interrupted, " yeah, we should give each other some space for a while..." God, he felt drained. Absolutely exhausted. "Abby," she stopped, turned around, "come here," she looked dubious, "...no, just come here..." He closed the distance between them and drew her into his arms. "I thought of you, Abby; in Africa, when that gun was pressed into my head and I didn't know if I'd live or die. I thought of you." With that, Carter broke the embrace, turning swiftly, and walked back into the building.
Abby stared after him, her mouth cemented closed from shock. "What gun, Carter-" she choked out, but, too late. He had already disappeared.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Ramblings:
I am afraid. I am very afraid. I put an "R" rating on this thing due to the first and third chapters (excluding the author's note, of course. Anyone know how I can remove that without losing my story?) My review numbers are limping along... I am concerned the scarlet "R" is putting people off? Should I lose the rating, go back to "PG-13" and put a strong warning in the summary? I don't think there will be any more racy material for a while... Don't know what to do, any suggestions?
And to those who reviewed, Thank you! It is very helpful and much appreciated.
~Solard
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Pinned to the bed in stunned silence, Carter shook his head to clear his confusion. With quickening realization forming tension between his eyes, he surmised that this was no dream. Although the non-sequitor nature of Abby's words and actions fit the profile of some crazy, food-borne illness-induced nightmare. His blood thrummed in his ears as he jumped from the bed, feet barely registering the icy floor, then gathered up and simultaneously pulled on his clothes.
"Oh, no you don't, Lockhart," muttering through tight lips, Carter bounded out of the bedroom and through the door like a shot. 'Take it easy, John,' he thought, 'you don't want to bust your ass,' as he stutter-stepped down the steep staircase. He rounded the last turn and pushed out of the door in a fugue. Stopping long enough to get his bearings, he sighted her and took off again.
"What in hell, is going on?" he spat out, grabbing her arm and forcing her around to face him. "Abby, correct me if I'm wrong -but we connected back there, for the first time in months and you just..." lowering his voice, "You just walk out! You just-" imitating her, "give me my key back, Carter. Take your time, Carter," he was really building steam now, "...get the HELL OUT OF MY LIFE, Carter..." His face, red from exertion and anger, twitched with effort to remain in control. Watching her for any sign of contrition, he let his hand drop from her arm and ran it, instead, through his uncombed hair. Seeing her unable to meet his gaze, deflated his agitation. His breath, dammed-up from frustration, came out in a quiet rush and then quietly, "Abby, what is going on? What happened?" he pleaded.
Her tone flat, Abby turned her defiant chin up, intoning dully, "Nothing happened, Carter. Nothing EVER just happens. You should know that. You're the one who told me..." Turning her head, she fixed her gaze away from him.
"What does that mean? What? do you want me to read your moods, now, Abby?" Cheap shot, but he took it, "You want me to put the index card of clues-"
"Carter, stop it. I have to get to-"
" -you've given me to my forehead and GUESS what's going on-"
"-work, I am going to be late-"
"-is that what you want?"
"-Weaver's pissed at the construction and she'll-"
"-Well, I can't, Abby-"
"-take it out on me if I get there-"
"-I can't do it -I never-"
"-LATE!!"
"-COULD!"
He felt ridiculous. Having some lover's quarrel out in the street; this wasn't his style. "Abby," making effort to control his new-awakened temper, "come back up to the apartment. Call Weaver-"
"Romano's ER chief, now," she interjected.
"-Romano, hell, WHOever! Tell them you will be late-"
"I don't want to be late, Carter." She fixed him with her most intractable stare.
"Tell them you will be late and let's talk this out!" he finished, exasperated.
Momentarily, she looked away. She looked back at him, her lips twisted in an attempted smile, "Carter, I know you are lonely and hurt. I was fully prepared to welcome you home, if you'd have me. But," at this she let out a sardonic chuckle, "...even I have a line in the sand, Carter. I know I don't deserve you. I am a drunk, I smoke -hell, I'm a walking laundry list of 'Things Potential Mates Should Avoid' but I know you came back to my place looking for comfort of the physical kind... I know, you made it crystal-clear, that you don't want to be with me-"
"I never made that remotely clear, Abby, because I don't FEEL it..."
She barked out a laugh now, "Oh, no, Carter, you didn't feel it." Checking his face for signs of recognition, "The restaurant you bought out, Carter? The long speech about 'people change' -God, I wish I'd seen that one coming!- The ring?" Seeing his face change, a blush spread over his cheeks, she rushed on, "Oh, yes. I found the ring. I grabbed your coat, that night, to hang it up...? Yeah. The ring just fell out of your pocket, Carter, 'blop' right there on my kitchen table."
"The timing wasn't right... You said you thought people never..." Embarrassed, he changed directions, "God, Abby -I didn't know you knew about the ring..." It was his turn to look away, unable to make eye-contact.
"I suspected at the restaurant, you know? A swanky place like that -no customers but us? I'm not a complete idiot, Carter... I put two and two together. I just hoped, against hope, you wouldn't do anything so... so foolish..." Her words fading, Abby grew pensive, "And yet, Carter, I was let down when I saw that ring..." He felt a twinge of guilt. He was able understand the fool she must have felt that night. But that wasn't his intention. Not once.
"I never intended you to know, I was afraid that we were going in opposite directions, Abby."
"No. You think I'm screwed up. And I agree. See? Same direction." She threw this at him.
Why did she always do this? AAAuughg! "It is impossible to talk to you." It hadn't always been... "You fit everything I say -everything I do, into that script running in the back of your mind. That 'nothing will ever be good, my life sucks' script, Abby. I don't want to play that part -I wasn't there to help you author that shit and yet, you forced me into it! Didn't you?" His nerves shot, his lust for battle almost spent, Carter turned around and leaned against the brick wall of her building for support. He was really beginning to feel his exhaustion.
"I never forced you into anything. I warned you -you ignored me." Her cheeks flushed with anger, "You came back and you came to me but it could have been anyone." Eyes flashing, she continued, "It doesn't matter, now, anyway. We tried, but we failed to make ourselves lovers -we were friends. We should have stayed that way."
"I didn't come to you, straight off an overnight flight, because I was horny, Abby. It didn't happen with just anyone, either, it happened with us. But you go ahead and make of it what you want, because that is what you will do anyway, isn't it?" He cocked his head at her, looking for some remnant of the woman in the bed upstairs. But no, she was long gone. Elvis had checked out of the place...
Abby shifted uncomfortably, glanced at the cracks in the sidewalk and quickly back up at Carter, "I have to go to work. Now. I don't know what this means for us," He saw uncertainty flit across her face, but too soon, she replaced it with resolve, "but I know we should step back and let things cool down, uh, cool down a bit... before..."
"Uh, yeah," he interrupted, " yeah, we should give each other some space for a while..." God, he felt drained. Absolutely exhausted. "Abby," she stopped, turned around, "come here," she looked dubious, "...no, just come here..." He closed the distance between them and drew her into his arms. "I thought of you, Abby; in Africa, when that gun was pressed into my head and I didn't know if I'd live or die. I thought of you." With that, Carter broke the embrace, turning swiftly, and walked back into the building.
Abby stared after him, her mouth cemented closed from shock. "What gun, Carter-" she choked out, but, too late. He had already disappeared.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Ramblings:
I am afraid. I am very afraid. I put an "R" rating on this thing due to the first and third chapters (excluding the author's note, of course. Anyone know how I can remove that without losing my story?) My review numbers are limping along... I am concerned the scarlet "R" is putting people off? Should I lose the rating, go back to "PG-13" and put a strong warning in the summary? I don't think there will be any more racy material for a while... Don't know what to do, any suggestions?
And to those who reviewed, Thank you! It is very helpful and much appreciated.
~Solard