By Melissa Larkin
Chapter Six
Disclaimer: You know the drill. ER isn't mine, but I own the characters of Sara Lewis and Melanie Malucci. The poem 'The Passionate Shepherd to His Love' was written by Christopher Marlowe. No copyright infringement is intended.
Robert strode down the hallway and entered the physical therapy room at County General Hospital. His eyes glanced around the room as he looked for Sara. Not seeing her, Robert approached Lindsay, Sara's friend and co-worker.
"Where's Sara?" he asked.
"You didn't get her message?" Lindsay replied with a raised eyebrow.
"No, what message?" Robert felt impatient and wanted to know where his girlfriend was.
"She went home sick," Lindsay explained. "You were in surgery, so she left a message with someone upstairs."
"Damn. I didn't check before I came here. I just scrubbed out of surgery and I wanted to see Sara." Robert nodded. "She wasn't feeling herself today, was she?"
"Nope," Lindsay answered. "Sara was still coughing and sneezing, so I sent her home. She's not going to do the patients any good if she's sick."
"All right," Robert said. "Thanks." He quickly walked upstairs to collect his things and then rushed over to Sara's apartment.
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Sara answered the door, dressed in light blue cotton capris and a t-shirt. Her nose was red and Robert leaned in to kiss her.
"Don't kiss me!" Sara said as she stepped back. "I might be contagious. I don't want you to catch my cold."
"I kissed you yesterday," Robert stated as he leaned in and quickly pecked Sara's lips. "So I might've gotten it already." Robert entered the apartment and closed the door.
Sara spied a bag in Robert's hands. "What's that?"
"Chicken soup from the deli on the corner," Robert explained. "And Mrs. Bianchetti said if you're not feeling better in a couple of days, she's bringing more over."
"She's so sweet." Sara grabbed a nearby blanket off the sofa and wrapped it around herself.
Robert busied himself in the kitchen. He took out a tray, a bowl and a spoon and prepared Sara's lunch. "Now get your beautiful self onto the sofa and eat this," he ordered.
Sara laughed. "Yes, boss," she said with a mock salute. She stretched out onto the sofa and covered her legs with the blanket she'd had around her shoulders. Robert gently placed the tray over Sara's legs.
"Eat everything," he said. "It's good for you."
"Thanks, sweetie." Sara began to eat the soup and Robert opened her refrigerator door. Sara looked up and saw him rummaging around. "Robert, what're you doing?"
"Just checking to see if you need anything," he answered. "You're good, though. Orange juice, fruit, all good things to help you feel better." Robert closed the refrigerator door, then walked into Sara's bathroom.
"Now what?" Sara asked with a laugh.
"Making sure you have enough aspirin and cough medicine," Robert replied. "If not, I'll run to the pharmacy."
"Remember when I said you're a keeper? I'm standing by that statement," Sara said. Robert entered the living room and sat on a chair near the sofa.
"Yeah, I like you, too," Robert joked. "How's the soup?"
"Amazing. Mrs. Bianchetti's a wonderful cook." Sara finished the soup quickly and Robert took the dish away to wash it. Sara covered herself up with the blanket and Robert returned and sat on the sofa. He took Sara's feet and placed them in his lap.
"Are you tired?" he asked.
"A little," Sara admitted. "But I'm really glad you came over."
"I wouldn't be anywhere else." Robert rubbed Sara's feet. "How's that?"
"Heavenly." Sara rested her head against a pillow and closed her eyes.
"Don't fall asleep there," Robert warned gently.
Sara opened her eyes. "Why not? The sofa's very comfortable."
"Yes, but that's where I'm sleeping tonight."
Sara raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"I'm not leaving you alone," Robert said. "You're sick and you need someone to take care of you."
"Robert, I'm a big girl. And besides, it's just a cold." Sara began to cough and Robert got up from his seat. He rubbed Sara's back until the cough stopped.
"When was the last time you took the cough medicine?" he asked.
"Um, I'm in need of another dose," Sara replied.
"I'll get it." Robert walked into the bathroom and returned a moment later with the medicine. He retrieved a spoon from the kitchen and strode over to the sofa. "Open wide." Sara took the medicine and lay back again. Robert placed the cough medicine on the coffee table. "Now don't fight with me. I'm staying."
"Okay," Sara said with a sniffle. Robert handed her a tissue. "Thanks."
Robert felt Sara's forehead. "No fever," he said with a smile.
"I never had one," Sara stated. She took Robert's hand. "Thank you for everything - the soup, staying to take care of me."
"I love you," Robert began. "And I'm going to take care of you."
"I love you, too," Sara answered. "And I'd love to be in my bed right now. I'm sleepy."
Robert helped Sara up and they ambled into her bedroom. Sara climbed into bed and Robert covered her. He noticed a book titled "Love Poems" lying on the bed.
"So this is the book of the day," he joked. Sara loved to read, another trait that Robert adored.
"Yeah, some of my favorite poems." Sara positioned the pillows so they were just as she liked them.
Robert sat up on the bed next to Sara. He picked up the book and opened it. "Want me to read to you?"
"I'd love that." Sara rested her head on the pillow and turned towards Robert.
Robert opened up to a poem by Christopher Marlowe titled 'The Passionate Shepherd to His Love.' "Come live with me and be my Love, and we will all the pleasures prove, that hills and valleys, dales and fields, or woods or steepy mountain yields. And we will sit upon the rocks, and see the shepherds feed their flocks by shallow rivers, to whose falls melodious birds sing madrigals.
And I will make thee a bed of roses and a thousand fragrant posies; a cap of flowers, and a kirtle - embroidered all with leaves of myrtle.
A gown made of the finest wool which from our pretty lambs we pull; fair-lined slippers for the cold, with buckles of the purest gold.
A belt of straw and ivy-buds with coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, come live with me and be my Love.
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing for thy delight each May morning: If these delights they mind may move, then live with me and be my Love."
Sara looked up at Robert, her eyes full of love for him. "I'd live anywhere with you," she said softly.
Robert bent down to kiss Sara. As he pulled away, he pushed some hair away from her face. "Do you think about the future?" he asked.
"Of course," Sara replied. "You?"
"Yeah," Robert admitted. "I was wondering where you saw us in a year or so. Would you still be my girlfriend?"
Sara took Robert's hand and laced her fingers with his. "I was hoping in a year or so I'd be your wife."
Robert's face broke out into the largest grin it had ever made before. "Really? You'd marry me?"
"Yes," Sara said, a wide smile on her own face. "I love you, Robert. There's nothing else I'd want." Sara snuggled up to Robert. "Well, maybe one or two other things."
Robert wrapped his arms around Sara. "And what would that be?"
"Kids, of course. Imagine how gorgeous our children will be!"
"As long as they don't take after their old man in the hair department," Robert joked.
"Bald is sexy, mister," Sara responded. "I want our son or daughter to have your blue eyes."
"Not the infamous Lewis green eyes?" Robert joked.
Sara laughed. "Only if it's a girl."
"Deal," Robert replied. He noticed Sara's eyes close. "Hun, I'm going to sleep on the sofa."
"Uh uh," Sara muttered. "Stay." She kept her arms wrapped around Robert. "Please."
"Okay." Robert pulled the blanket over himself and turned out the nearby lamp. "I love you," he said, the words having a new meaning than they had ever before.