AN: A small update, just to get this story back on track. Took me long enough, I know. I don't promise frequent updates, but I do plan to finish both this story and Hurricane. Next update, their date.

Chapter 10

Brooke

She's very pretty, oval face with large blue eyes, a pert little nose and a broad mouth with slightly protruding lower lip. Long, straight dark blonde hair. Tall, five-nine, maybe five ten with grown-up b-cup breasts, a coltish narrow figure with long legs and a little baby fat here and there. Emily. Fourteen, maybe a very young fifteen. She's shopping for underwear with daddy's credit card, and she's chosen a few items that daddy would not approve. A little red lacy pair with matching demitasse and an angelic white set, even skimpier, that would drive your neighborhood pervert insane. Now she's choosing a babydoll, and on Brooke's advice, she's picking a transparent little number that ends about two-thirds of the way down her buttocks. Behind a helpful poker face, Brooke is surprising herself about how uncomfortable she is with this sale.

"So," Emily asks. "What do you think?"

"Your boyfriend is going to love it." At Emily's age, Brooke would drink herself into a stupor and wake up just about anywhere with anyone. It took another year or so, and two curable STDs, before she learned not drink quite as much, and choose boys who actually knew about condoms. The girl seems a good deal more innocent.

"I think he will." She twirls around, checking herself in the mirror. "For the first time, the red or the white?"

"Your first time, or his?"

"Mine, silly." She gives a proud smile. "He's a senior!" Brooke sighs. She knows life can be very rough with this kind of innocence.

"The white one." Emily nods. "Keep the red for a special occasion."

After the cashier, Brooke accompanies Emily to the door. "Thank you, Brooke."

"No, thank you, Emily. Hope things work out well for you."

"Bye."

Emily turns around and steps outside. Brooke raises her voice a bit. "Emily, wait!"

The girl can't hide a little irritation. "What?"

Brooke writes her name and phone on a piece of paper, handing it to Emily. "Look. If you need anything. A friendly ear, a shoulder to cry on, a ride home, a place to crash or even some discreet medical advice, just call, please. No judgment, ok?"

The girl stares at her for a bit, frowning. Then she looks at the scrap of paper. "Thanks, I guess." Then she turns around and walks away. Brooke stares at the girl's back, betting with herself that the scrap of paper will end up in a garbage bin in the next two blocks. Still, giving it out did make her heart a little lighter.

A voice, low register with a suggestion of laughter comes from behind her. "You must be Brooke."

Brooke jumps half a foot. "Shit! You scared me."

"Sorry. I'm Callie."

Brooke turns around and looks at the woman. Broad shoulders, strong, beautiful face, velvety cafe-au-lait coloring, bright eyes and a truly engaging smile directed at her. "You mean Lucas' boss?"

"That's right, babe. Ally told me you'd be around."

Brooke looks embarrassed. "I'm sorry. Did you hear that?"

"Yes I did."

"I know. It was unprofessional."

Callie laughs and shakes her head. "Allie is right about you. Mouthwatering little package with a golden heart. No wonder Lucas walks around with that silly little grin."

Brooke smiles back, blushing a bit, "Thanks. And he hasn't sampled the goods yet. Just wait and see."

Callie laughs again. "Cheeky too." She puts her arm around Brooke and pulls her inside. "Tell me about the kid."

"She's a high school freshman. Dropped five hundred bucks on naughty underwear to inspire her upperclassman boyfriend and lose her V. Came across as a very innocent airhead. It just didn't sit right with me."

Callie nods. "Not your place to interfere, so you just offer a little support and hope for the best."

Brooke shrugs. "Yeah."

Callie smile widens. "You already know a difficult lesson we struggle to teach interns ten years older than you. Very good job, Brooke."

Brooke feels her face hot with pleasure and embarrassment. "Thanks." She gets a hold of herself and puts on her professional mask. "Welcome to Victoria's Secret. How can we help you today?"

"I'm looking for a birthday gift for my wife."

"Penny. Redhead, shy, very pretty."

"Yeah, that one. So, Lucas talks about us."

"Yup. He says you're a genius. He also says your daughter is a cutie. Sofia, right?"

"Right. That she is. A bit spoiled, though. And I'm not sure about the genius part."

"I'd trust Lucas." They stop next to the good stuff. "Tell me about your wife."

"Redhead, very fair, freckles everywhere. About five foot five, size four with C-cups. Too straightlaced for her own good."

"Hm." Brooke picks up two matching sets. "With that kind of coloring, you should try deep jewel tones." She picks a darkish emerald green set and a skimpier turquoise one, the green in lace-trimmed satin, and the turquoise one in very soft silk. She goes to another rack and picks up a pair of diaphanous babydolls. A light green one and a light blue one. "What do you think?"

"Oh, I love the turquoise one. She's gonna look so scrumptious..." Callie grabs the pair and the blue babydoll and heads for the cashier.

"Wouldn't you like to look at something for yourself?" Brooke whispers as Callie passes by her.

Callie turns back. "Oh, you... what do you suggest?"

Brooke checks her out slowly. "Well... with your coloring and build, something white and... just a minute." Brooke comes back with a white push-up bustier and lace boy shorts. "This is to go with stockings, and a sheer slip..."

Callie feels the fabric of the bustier between her fingers. "You're good, girl." She holds up the lace shorts against the light. "Very good."

Brooke smiles. "I know what sexy looks like. Wanna try it?"

"Sure."

Callie is clearly very pleased when she steps out of the dressing room. Brooke can't hide her surprise. The woman is one very hot milf. "Fuck!"

"That's the idea, girlfriend."

"That's a birthday gift."

"The outfit?"

"No, you. The outfit is just wrapping. How is your grind?" Brooke does a little sexy grinding to show what she means. Callie follows along, putting her arms up and letting go a little, surprising Brooke again. "You'll do." Brooke shakes her head and smiles. "When is the birthday?"

"In a couple of weeks. We're going to have a little dinner party at home. Hope you and Lucas will be there. You can bring your friend too. Rachel, right?"

Brooke nods, a little intimidated by the idea. "Right."

Callie notices Brooke's discomfort. "Hey." She grabs the young woman in a hug. Brooke lets herself be hugged, enjoying the warm feeling. Callie lets he go, holding Brooke by the shoulders. "We're not that bad."

Brooke looks into Callie's eyes. She thinks of herself and Rachel in a party with a bunch of friends of Lucas. "I'm just not ready to be a grown up yet."

Callie giggles. Brooke frowns. "What?"

"I'm not either." She gives a hard slap in Brooke's left buttock.

"Hey!" Brooke laughs. "That hurt!"

"Sorry." A little caress in the slapped buttock. "Pity we're both taken and you're straight."

Brooke flips her hair and gives Callie a little pout. "You're not my type anyways."

Lucas

The boy on the table is twenty, a bike messenger. He's got compound fractures on both femurs, and extensive soft tissue damage, for being crushed between an SUV's rear bumper and a brick wall. Twenty years ago, he would probably lose both legs, but prospects these days are much better. Callie recommended he do both legs in one surgery. While he's been repairing the left leg, where the compound fracture was a bit gnarly, the right leg had a simpler double fracture, and the fourth year resident on the other side of the table is already closing off his incision.

"Numbers?" Lucas asks without lifting his eyes from the surgical field.

"BP one hundred over sixty, heart rate is eighty, oxy is nominal and he's been under for five hours. He's good for another hour."

He finishes placing the screws that will keep the two longitudinal rods in place, anchoring them to the bone. He extends his hand holding the screwdriver. "half hook, four-oh suture." He begins closing the incision.

He addresses the resident, a thin african-american young woman with nimble fingers and a taste for ortho's simple pleasures. "Jackie."

"Yes, sir?"

"Good job."

"Thank you, sir." Lucas hasn't been around long enough for the residents to relax around him. "Anything else, sir?"

"Please find the family and update them. We'll be done in about forty minutes. Everything went fine, and he should make a full recovery."

"I would prefer to stay and watch, sir." Lucas smiles to himself. Sometimes people have a hard time understanding an order that begins with the word "please".

"We're done with the hard stuff. It's all suturing in layers and placing drains now. The family takes precedence. I'll leave post-op instructions in writing with his chart. Be sure to check on him tomorrow by seven, and contact me with anything unexpected."

She gets away from the table and turns around without comment. Lucas sighs. That one won't be relaxing around him anytime soon.

After closing and updating the patient's chart, I drag myself out of the operating room, and go to my office. I grab a bottle of water, drinking it as my mind drifts back to my Brooke. My Brooke... really? A kiss and my bed. I guess the kiss will wait until tomorrow, but I can definitely head to my bed now. I change into my street clothes, still daydreaming about a certain young brunette...

I find the family at the Operating Center waiting room. It's an older hispanic woman, a pretty teenage girl and four young man in grunge clothes. Lucas addresses the old woman. "Hi, I'm Dr. Lucas Scott, and I was the surgeon in charge of Marcos' procedure."

The old woman gets up and shakes my hand weakly. "I'm Rosario Gomez, Marcos abuela. This is his sister Concepcion, and these are Jay, Clyde, Abe and Stone." She pauses a bit. "Is he going to be ok?"

"I believe so, Ms. Gomez. Complications are always possible after surgery. However, everything went very well, he is young and strong. In time, he should make a full recovery. The damage he suffered was extensive. He will be off his feet for several months, and after that, he will have several months of painful physical therapy to recover strength and mobility."

"I understand. Thank you Dr. Scott"

"It's my job, Ms. Gomez. Do you have any questions?"

"Do you know how long he will stay at the hospital?"

"Without complications, about one week. I'll come by tomorrow morning to check on him, and I'll be able to answer additional questions."

The old woman grabs Lucas right hand on both of hers. "Thank you, Doctor."

"You're welcome." I turn to the boys. "Can you explain what happened?"

One of the boys replies. "Sure, doc." Pulling me aside, he speaks in a close whisper. "It was Lucy. She's the niece of the guy who owns the messenger service we all work for. Marco was banging her for a while, but she started getting sticky and he dumped her. That was a couple of weeks ago. Today she was in the car, in the alley behind the office, about to have a driving lesson. Marco was behind the car, and he was distracted, talking on the phone. She pretended it was an accident, putting it on reverse, but everyone knows it was payback for dumping her."

"This is pretty serious. Did you call the police?" I already knew the answer, since nobody came around to discuss the extent of the injury.

"Nah. Her uncle wanted to keep it quiet. He said he would give Marcos ten grand."

"That's nowhere near enough. Just the hospital bills will be more than a hundred grand, and recovery might cost that much again. He needs a lawyer."

"A couple of shitheads have already been around sniffing."

"He needs someone good. Give me a minute." I call John Wells. After a little grumbling for the late call, I get a referral for a personal injury attorney. Then I go back to Ms. Gomez and give her one of my personal cards, with the name and phone number of the lawyer in the back. "Call this guy, Ms. Gomez. He's a tiburon, but you do need one of those in your corner."

"Thank you again, young man. God bless you and yours."

"Same to you, ma'm."

I was really dragging myself by the time I got into the car and drove home. It is a little past midnight when I climb up the stairs, cursing the delay in the permits for the elevator work. I open the front door, leaving my shoes and my briefcase along the way. I'm halfway down the buttons of my shirt when I get the best surprise ever. There she is, sitting in the sofa, quietly reading a book.

"Hey."

She puts the book aside and gets up. She's wearing a comfy looking dark blue satin teddy and a thousand watt smile. "Hey." She dives right in. "I me Callie today at the store. Very sexy, that boss of yours." She waves her hands. "Never mind that. She told me you had a long, difficult surgery this afternoon, so you'd be home late and dead..."

I cross the space between us in two steps, and interrupt her with a kiss. It takes her half a second to get into it, crossing her arms around my neck, while I grab her buttocks and pull her up against me. She crosses her legs around my waist and we lose ourselves in the kiss. While our tongues caress, she makes this tiny little moaning noise deep in her throat, which would become my favorite sound.

We pull apart. "You may not believe this, but I've been dreaming of this kiss all day long."

She laughs. "I believe you. I've been thinking of you all day too, and I thought I'd have to wait until tomorrow to see you, but then I thought, what the heck..." She stops, seeing I can barely stand. "Do you want anything?"

"Half a glass of warm milk and my bed. Maybe another kiss."

"Go to your room, put on your pj's and lie down. I'll be right there with the milk and your kiss."

"Boxers all right? Haven't used pj's since I left home for college."

"No problem. You look just fine in your boxers, boyfriend."

I brush my teeth, the word "boyfriend" keeping me company, and I head for bed. Brooke comes in about twenty seconds later, with the milk and a peck in the lips.

"Thanks." I set the empty glass aside and get myself under the covers. Brooke lies down beside me. "What..."

"What? You're kicking me out of your bed?"

"Of course not. It's just that I'm too tired..."

"I know." She snuggles up, playing with my chest hairs and laying her head on my arm. "It's just for the company."

I'm too exhausted to try to understand, and too pleased to care. I wrap her in my arms, and smell the cinnamon scent of her hair. She wiggles around, turning her back to me and snuggling even closer. I turn the lights off. As I fall asleep, I mumble. "My Christmas morning..."

In the darkness, Brooke feels Lucas falling asleep. His Christmas morning? She wonders what that is all about. She closes her eyes, feeling Lucas all around her, his strong body against hers, his scent, the soft noise of his breathing. A wonderful feeling of peace comes over her. Maybe for the first time since she was a little girl, she is exactly where she wants to be. Brooke is home.