Color

Before he left for the night, Ben stood in front of the OR board. He searched the large chart for his name.Surgeon: Ben Warren. He'd won the first solo surgery of his intern class. Technically, it wasn't solo solo, but he was the one they'd chosen. He was a star. Everyone knew it. He called Miranda as soon as he got to his apartment door. "Miranda!" He exclaimed before she could even say "hello".

"Yes! What, baby? Hi!" Her excitement matched his and she had no idea why.

"Guess what your husband is doing this weekend?" He reached into his fridge and got a beer.

"Hmm," she started. "I don't know what my husband is doing, but I know that I want him to come home and tear off these red panties that I'm wearing."

Ben froze for a second. "Is that right? Red, huh?" He imagined her biting her bottom lip and nodding. "Are you at home?" He took a sip of the foamy beer and chased it with another one.

"Of course, Benjamin! Does that sound like the sort of thing I'd say at my place of work?" He opened his mouth and then closed it. "So what is my husband doing this weekend?"

"Wait a damn second, back to these panties," he told her bringing up a memory. He knew exactly the pair she was talking about and it was making him hard. He headed to his bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt. Ben lay on his back. "Red, you say?"

"And lacy."

"I remember."

Miranda lowered her voice. "So you remember the matching bra?"

He lowered his as well. "Yes, ma'am. I'm hoping that there's nothing else on your body."

"Ben!"

"Baby, what?"

"Your news?"

"Your panties eclipse my news," he laughed.

"Shut up." They continued to laugh. They had such good chemistry. He knew it was a blessing to find someone who he could play with and tease; someone who motivated and encouraged him like she did. "What's your news, sweetheart?"

"Your man is the first in his intern class to get awarded a solo surgery."

"You're kidding!"

Ben shook his head as if Miranda could see him. "Nope. It's this weekend."

"Ahhh, man. So you're really not coming?"

"I wish I could, but I cannot miss this."

"Of course not."

"I hope you didn't have any plans."

"No, no, no."

"Miranda Bailey-Warren," Ben said. "Spill."

"I switched weekends with Tucker so that we could have Saturday and Sunday to ourselves to catch up. That 'catch up' was in quotation marks, by the way," she commented.

"Damn, Miranda. Sorry."

"No, I guess it's okay." She sighed deeply. "How can I be mad when you're off doing your thang?"

He chuckled. "See, I'm glad you get it. I'm glad you're my wife."

"I'm so proud of you, babe," she said earnestly. "What kind of procedure?"

"I think appendectomy."

"Oh well, you are talking to the queen. Lay it on me. I wish I could be there."

"Shit, maybe you should come out here this weekend and then you can see me in action."

"That's actually not a bad idea."

"Really?" Ben asked, he'd suggested the idea of her coming to L.A. several times and she'd turned him down nearly every time.

"Yep. And then maybe we can finish what we started earlier."

"I would definitely be down for that."

"Good. I will see you in a few days."

"I can't wait, Miranda," he said genuinely. "You're finally going to see our apartment."

"'Our'?"

"Yeah, we're married, it's ours," he said.

"You know what? I'm done with you, boy. Go to sleep."

"Wait, wait, wait—wait a daggone minute."

"What, Benjamin?"

He groaned lowly. "The panties, baby. The panties."