Wow, you all surprised me with your reviews! Thank you so much, they're really appreciated :)
I'll try to update every two or three days... so expect at least twice a week.
Here is the second part to this seven part story... enjoy!
Mondays are days that people hate, simply because of the fact that to the average person, Mondays meant the first day back at work, the first day of a long week at a nine to five job, and the first day of getting up early again after a weekend of rest and relaxation. As for me, Mondays are just another day in the endless week that really held no significance.
This particular Monday was a little bit different. I woke up to the clock radio, listening to the song that was on for a minute with my eyes shut, not wanting to get out of bed.
Beyond the common grind;
The 9 to 5 the dead end jobs we try,
We try to hide.
We struggle through the means;
To meet the ends.
Please tell me that this life isn't permanent.
I reached over to shut off the alarm, and touched something that definitely wasn't my clock. I opened my eyes, and promptly remembered where I was.
In Mark's apartment.
Naked.
Oh God.
He opened his eyes and they met mine. I could get used to this, waking up to him.
No, no I can't, because this isn't supposed to happen. I'm perfectly fine without him, I don't need him.
Oh, who am I kidding? I leaned over in a move that I knew would be totally unexpected of me, and kissed him softly on the lips, his morning stubble prickly on my chin.
"What, you're not going to bolt and tell me what a mistake this was?" he said, snaking an arm around my waist. A chill went up my spine when his warm hand made contact with the small of my back.
"No," I half held my breath, "because then I wouldn't get any more of that for awhile."
Cause we don't care enough.
So don't hold it off.
You're what gets me off;
Gets me through long and sober days.
It wasn't why I was still here – part of it, to be sure – but I wasn't about to let him in on the real reason I was still lying in bed with him. "I need to take a shower," I said suddenly, remembering that work was waiting for her.
"Maybe I'll join you," Mark said, rolling me on top of him.
Ok, so maybe I liked Mondays.
---
I got to work and quickly changed into my navy blue scrubs. I looked longingly at the salmon scrubs that lay at the bottom of the drawer in my office. Those were great scrubs. Unfortunately, when I'd signed my contract, Richard had told me that I should wear the navy ones if I wanted to be 'one of the gang'.
Maybe I didn't want to be 'one of the gang'. They sleep with interns and whine a lot about who's got a better chance at becoming chief. The rumour is that Richard's stepping down… although I do think I'd be among the first to know.
You don't deserve to be unnoticed.
You don't deserve to be treated like that.
(We've gone to far to be unnoticed)
I sighed, slipping my dress off – the same one I wore yesterday – and my scrubs on. I really, really hope no one pays enough attention to what I wear (although they are fantastic clothes, and usually I wish the opposite) to realize that I left with Mark Sloan last night in this very same outfit.
Swiping my coffee off my desk, I went to check on my miniature patients in the NICU. Most were doing fine. The Koopmans boy wasn't doing very well though, and neither was the tiny Kiren baby.
"Dr. Stevens," I turned to acknowledge Izzie, who had been on call last night in the NICU with the Kiren girl, "anything to report?"
"She coded once around midnight, but I pushed epi, and she stabilized. She's been a little low, but stable ever since." I knew how hard this was on her. I taught her a painful lesson once before. But she wanted to be in neo-natal: unfortunately she was going to have to learn how to deal with the fact that patients will die under her care. I learned not to let it effect more than a moment out of my day. It was too much if I let it engulf me every time.
Days and weeks go by,
And seasons change.
The scenery gets old;
It stays the same.
Theres nothing in this town;
But you and I.
So baby pack your bags cause we leave tonight.
"I'll be back to check on her later," I said. I was almost all the way out the door when I heard Izzie speak again.
"Dr. Montgomery?" she asked. I turned, tilting my head slightly, intrigued. "Why doesn't she have a name?"
I was hoping this wouldn't come up. "She was left on a church doorstep with the name Kiren embroidered on a ratty old blanket. We assumed it was a family heirloom. That's why that's her last name."
"May I name her?" Izzie asked. I watched her expression. I really didn't want to let her get attached to patients. It was bad for a doctor. "No one should be nameless. They've got to be someone. Someone that will be remembered when they die."
Hearing her say that almost made me cry. I couldn't argue with it. "Go ahead, Stevens," I said, "but I can't promise anything official."
You don't deserve to be unnoticed.
You don't deserve to be treated like that.
We've gone too far to be unnoticed.
So lets get gone.
As I finally managed to leave the NICU, I knew I'd made a mistake. "It's just you and me, Jessie," Isobel Stevens hummed softly to the infant. I knew right then that I had to find that baby a heart.
---
"Mrs. Davis, we have to discuss what's going to happen in the OR during your C-Section, whenever we decide that has to be," I opened, standing at the foot of Anna's bed. "We'll have four teams in the OR with us to help make sure that babies A, B, and D are healthy and stay that way. I have a neo-natal specialist on notice, just an hour away. He will fly in as soon as I call, and will be in the operating room with baby C to see if he can do anything for her. I warn you though, that I cannot offer you any hope. She most likely will not survive. You won't be able to see your babies right away either. You'll have to wait a few hours before we can let you into the NeoNatal Intensive Care Unit to visit them," I paused, to allow them a moment to take this all in. "Do you have any questions?"
"We've been thinking," said Mr. Davis. I watched him rub his thumb over his wife's hand, "we want to hold our daughter, the one that won't – won't live," he said softly. "We'd like to name her too. No one should die without a name. You don't need to bring in the specialist… if she's going to die; we want to let her die in peace."
I knew I had to mention this now. It felt like my window of opportunity for getting them to donate their daughter's heart was closing. Jessie Kiren's chance was slipping away. "There is an option that I'd like to discuss with you. Your daughter has a perfectly healthy heart. There is a baby girl up in the NICU who will die if she doesn't get a heart by the end of the week. If that baby girl is still alive when we deliver your children, I need to know if you would be willing to donate her heart to save the other baby's life."
This was so hard to say. I'm supposed to be the doctor, saving their baby's life, but all I can offer them is that they give their baby's heart away to help someone else's child live. It doesn't seem fair. I watched tears stream down Mrs. Davis' face. This was supposed to be a happy time, not one of mourning.
"Let me know, whatever you decide," I said, backing out of the room slowly. These moments always felt like failure.
So we've spent our nights awake;
Passed every small town along the way.
Here's to bad times;
They were the best times.
Give up the good times,
And we'll survive.
"Mark, why are you sitting with me?"
"Can't I eat lunch with a beautiful co-worker?" I rolled my eyes. "I see you're wearing your scrubs. Can't bear to be seen in the same clothes as yesterday? Can't stand the thought of the rest of the hospital knowing you're getting some action?"
He was so typical. "Mark, keep your voice down."
'I can't let the hospital know I'm sleeping with you.' I mentally added, praying that he didn't have any smart comments.
He's Mark. Of course he has smart comments. "So… you wouldn't want me to yell out that I'm sleeping with you?" he said softly with just a hint of teasing in his voice.
I nearly choked on my pudding. I searched around for a distraction, anything. Turns out the choking was distraction enough.
"Don't make me do the Heimlich on you," he said; the worry in his voice and softness in his eyes betraying what was really going on in his mind. I hate that he is so caring, and yet so selfish at the same time.
"Its just pudding," I scowled. I wiped my mouth and stood up, fixing my scrubs.
"Saved by the pager," he said as my pager went off. 911 in the NICU.
"Yup, saved by the pager," I grinned, hurrying off to see if Jessie was still alive.
---
Surprisingly enough, it wasn't Jessie that they'd paged me for. Jessie was stable, barely holding on, but stable under Izzie's vigilant watch. It was Aaron Koopmans, who had a bowel obstruction. I mentally kicked myself for not noticing earlier, but I figured I could still save him. "Let's get him into surgery," I removed my stethoscope from my neck and hurried off to scrub in.
"Would you like to scrub in, Stevens?" I asked, hoping she'd like to. It was a good idea for her to get away from Jessie for awhile… I didn't want her so attached, but I think I'd already screwed that up royally.
"Um, no, I think it's best if I stay here," she said. She was totally wrong, but Aaron didn't have time for me to argue with her so I shook my head, "Your loss," and left.
You don't deserve to be unnoticed.
You don't deserve to be treated like that.
We've gone too far to be unnoticed.
So lets get gone.
I began to stitch up the tiny baby and glanced up to the gallery. I'd felt his eyes on me the entire surgery, and seeing him reclined in a plastic chair looking incredibly sexy in his leather jacket only confirmed my suspicions. He was waiting for me, and not being subtle about it either.
"Do you want to close?" I asked the third year resident that accompanied me in a lot of my surgeries. She wanted to go into neo-natal, but unfortunately didn't show a lot of talent in the area.
"Thank you, Dr. Montgomery," she tried to hide a smile as she stepped up to take control.
"Well done, everyone, thank you," I said, ducking out as quickly as I could. Mark was waiting for me outside the scrub room.
"Ready to go?" he asked.
"Who said I'm coming home with you?" I said, fighting more with myself than with him. Of course I was going to go home with him.
He cocked an eyebrow, and his eyes were laughing at me. He didn't need to say anything, I knew what he was thinking.
"I have to go home," I said, thinking of the fact that I was wearing yesterday's socks.
"Well, we can go there too. I don't mind. Change of pace."
"You are impossible!"
---
He was impossible. He ended up in my apartment. And then, he used my phone to order Chinese food. My phone!
By the time I'd changed and put on my favourite pair of Lululemon™ pants and an oversized t-shirt, Mark was sitting on the floor in front of the television watching the Monday night old movie and slurping Chinese noodles off his chopsticks.
"What's on?" I asked, sitting down beside him and grabbing a carton.
"Casablanca."
"Classic," I said, pushing aside a piece of broccoli for a piece of chicken. I found myself leaning into him as he stretched his arm across the couch, his hand brushing my shoulder. This felt so right, so comfortable, and I allowed myself to stop feeling like I was doing something wrong for just a moment, sinking into a blissful utopia.
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