I had a couple of requests from faithful reviewers to have a sweet scene between Jane and Lisbon as well as some more baby talk. So … here goes – a fluffy chapter with no real plot. See – if you review and give me suggestons I might write a chapter for you (pure, absolute bribery). Hope you enjoy
Thanks HUGELY for all your great comments. I've been inspired.
After she left Jane's room she stopped at the nurse's station. "Excuse me", she said to the older nurse behind the desk. "I'm wondering if the doctor is going to be in to see my - to see Patrick Jane. He said no one's been by yet."
The nurse grabbed a chart and looked down at it. "Uh – the doctor got held up in surgery. There was a multi-vehicle accident. He should be by shortly." She put the chart down and resumed her other work. It was at that moment that Teresa developed some sympathy for Patrick. Some of the nurses were wonderful, others, like this one weren't. "Uh, also, no one has been in to check on him in quite a while and he doesn't even have any water. I know the doctor said he needs to be well-hydrated because of all the blood he lost."
This time the duty nurse sighed and turned in her chair. Written on a white board behind her were all the patients' names and the nurses assigned to them. "Nurse Edmonds has him this afternoon. I'll page her."
When Edmonds didn't show up the duty nurse sighed again, looking put out. "I'll call a nursing assistant to make sure he gets some water. As I said, the doctor should be here shortly. Was there anything else?"
Teresa was seething but knew there was little she could do. "Yes, I want to speak to your supervisor. Tell him or her I'll be in touch. This is ridiculous." With that she turned and headed back to Patrick's room. She was going to kill someone.
When she arrived at his room she stopped, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Why had she been so mean to the poor man? He was sick and needed her to be patient with him. With a small sigh she peeked her head around the door. When she saw he was already asleep she entered and moved towards his bed.
She sat down quietly and regarded him closely. Why hadn't she noticed him when she first came in? He still looked so ill, his face pale with dark circles under his eyes and lines etched between his brows. On top of that he'd lost weight and looked gaunt and terribly weak. She was suddenly consumed with guilt. How could she have been so terrible to him when he was still so sick? Of course he was irritable.
She sighed and reached out and gently stroked his curls. He moved slightly and then his eyes opened.
"Teresa?" he blinked a couple of times to try and clear the sleep from his eyes. "Hi, what are you doing here? Have I been asleep for a long time?"
"No", she gave him a small smile and then grasped his hand. "Just a few minutes. Patrick, I'm so -"
"No", he stopped her. "Don't say it. It was my fault Teresa, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken my bad mood out on you."
"You're sick and I should have had more patience. And anyone would be in a bad mood in this place." She stretched slightly and let out a slow breath. "I am sorry – my only excuse is that I was tired."
"I know love. I guess we're both at fault. And you need to take better care of yourself. I'll have to talk to Dennis about working you so hard."
That won him another kiss but then she laughed and looked at him mischievously. "You realize I'm not going to let you forget this?"
"Forget what?" his eyes narrowed and he looked at her suspiciously.
"You – admitting it was your fault. It's a rare occurrence Jane."
"Pfff", he snorted. "And yes it is rare. I'm usually not."
She laughed again. "Of course you're not", she shook her head. "How are you feeling now?"
"Tired, sore, bored, but really, really glad you came back." He gave her one of his best smiles and this time she believed him.
"Good. So am I." She settled into the chair. "They're sending someone in with some water. They can't find your nurse."
"Nurse Ratchett?"
"I hope you haven't called her that to her face." She gave him her best 'Jane, stop it glare'.
"No, but I wanted to. She's a repressed, vindictive woman who thrives on making people do what she wants, especially when they're too sick or weak to object."
"That's harsh", she told him with raised eyebrows. "What makes you think that?"
"She wouldn't let me have any tea."
Teresa grinned. "I see. She does sound like a horrible person. What did you do?"
"What do you mean?"
"What did you say or do to her? She's disappeared."
"You think I had something to do with that? Teresa, I'm stuck in this bed. How could I possibly have done anything to the woman?"
"I don't mean you physically did something to her. You must have said something though – something that caused her to flee."
"To flee? Right."
"Jane!"
"What?"
"What did you say to her?"
He sighed and closed his eyes. "I may have told her about the ghost."
"The ghost? What ghost? And anyway, you don't believe in ghosts."
He grinned. "I know, but she does – at least now."
"Jane – what did you do?"
"Well, I may have told her that I was visited by the ghost of a nurse who was fired – unfairly I might add – for accidently giving a patient the wrong medication and killing him."
"You didn't", she said faintly. "And I suppose this is a true story? At least the part about the nurse, not about the ghost."
"Mmm hmm. Happened about fifteen years ago."
"And why would this story make your nurse leave?"
"Well, I think she had something to do with it."
"With what?" Teresa frowned in confusion.
"With giving the man the wrong medicine. I think it may have been Nurse Ratchett who did it and blamed Sadie – the ghost nurse."
"There are no ghosts Jane. And how would you possibly know that your nurse was behind this?"
"Mmm. She seems the type."
"The type to what?"
"Lay the blame for her crime on somebody else. And she blanched when I told her about Sadie."
"Maybe she's just scared of ghosts."
He smiled. "Maybe."
"Jane?"
"What?"
"How did you know about this nurse – the one from fifteen years ago?"
He shrugged. "I must have heard someone talking about it."
"Why would anyone be talking about it now?"
He shrugged and yawned. "Let's not discuss her anymore. You didn't bring any snacks did you?"
"No, I'm sorry. Are you hungry?"
"Mmm hmm. All they give me is jello and broth. I'm sick of it. I want something solid."
"They said your digestive system isn't ready for solid food yet. You had major surgery you know."
"Of course I know. I'm the one with the big hole in my chest!" At her look of distress he cursed himself and reached out with his hand. He then cursed again that he was so weak even that was hard. "I'm sorry Teresa. Ignore me."
"Ignore you? I'd like you to tell me how to do that. I haven't managed it in almost thirteen years!"
"I know", he grinned. "It was all part of my plan to make you love me."
She snorted and shook her head at the man who could drive a saint crazy. "Right! For the past thirteen years?"
"Hey, it worked, didn't it?"
She frowned and then laughed. "I guess it did. It was either love you or shoot you – and believe me, it was a tough choice."
He grinned at her and closed his eyes, pleased that he'd managed to make her laugh and to relax.
"The doctor is supposed to be in soon", she told him after a minute. "We'll ask him about food. In the meantime, where is that damned nurse with the water?"
"Mmm, I am rather thirsty. Uh Teresa?"
"Yes?" she eyed him suspiciously.
"How about some tea?"
She stood up slowly. The least she could do was get him some tea. "Okay. I'll run down to the cafeteria and be right back."
"Really?" he asked hopefully. "I love you Teresa."
"Ha! You just love me because I bring you tea. You're a tea-pot lover Patrick!"
He waggled his eyebrows and watched as she left. Once she was gone he let out a sigh – wishing it still didn't hurt so much to breathe – and closed his eyes. A few moments later a young nursing assistant arrived with a carafe of water and a cup. He motioned to her to leave it and then settled back into a light doze.
"Good evening Patrick." Dr. Bardhan said, walking into his room a few minutes later.
"Uh hi Doctor." Patrick struggled to sit up and to wake up.
"Sorry I didn't get by earlier. It's been a busy day."
"That's okay. I can't say I missed being poked and prodded."
The doctor smiled. "No, I don't blame you. So, let me take a look at your chart." He lifted it off the end of the bed and looked at the notations from the nurses. Something made him frown and he flipped the page back and forth. "Has the nurse been in to see you recently?"
"Uh – not since early this afternoon", he answered. "She came in for a moment but then left."
"Mmm. Well, I'm going to send in the nurse in a moment because it looks like she didn't record anything", he frowned again. He then went on to ask a few more questions, looked at Patrick's wound, and finally nodded. "You're definitely improving and hopefully you can be out of here in a few more days. I'll tell them you can start eating light solids – I'm sure you'll be happy about that."
"Yes – although I'd prefer solid solids."
The doctor smiled. "Well, it's a good sign you're hungry although I'm afraid your system would protest at heavy food. Just try something light tonight and see how you feel. By tomorrow you should be able to start eating regular food. We need to put some weight back on you." Dr. Bardhan replaced the chart. "I have to go and check on some of my other patients, but things are looking good Patrick. It will be frustrating for a while, but take it easy and soon you'll be back on your feet."
"Thank you", Jane gave the man a grateful smile, liking this doctor. If they could only all be like this he wouldn't hate the medical profession so much.
"Here you go", Teresa said, returning a few minutes later with a big cup of tea. "It's chamomile and doesn't have any caffeine so the nurse said you can have it."
"You checked?" he asked, sounding like he'd been betrayed.
"Of course. I can't trust you when it comes to tea Patrick."
He pouted for a moment, but then got a wiff of the hot liquid and gave in. He took a sip and sighed. "Heaven."
"Did the doctor come in to see you? I saw him in the hallway."
"Mmm hmm. He said I can go home in a couple of days. I also get to eat solid food now!"
"That's great. You'll feel much better when you're not so hungry."
"I'll feel better when I'm out of this place!"
By the time he'd eaten dinner – soup and a slice of toast – he was tired and ready for sleep. He really wanted Teresa to stay but knew she was also exhausted.
"Go home", he told her. "You need to sleep for your sake and junior's."
"I'm fine Patrick."
"Teresa. Go. Home. You can come back tomorrow first thing."
She let out a deep breath and finally agreed. "You're going to be okay?"
"Of course. I'm ready to sleep now anyway. I'll see you tomorrow."
She gave him a sweet kiss and then headed towards the door. Just before leaving she turned around. "Don't give the nurses any trouble tonight, okay?"
"Okay", he agreed readily, too tired to argue. "As long", he yawned, "as they don't", he yawned again, "poke me", he yawned for the third time, "again."
"Go to sleep", his love told him affectionately. He was out before the door had even closed.
The next morning was the first time he actually felt halfway alive. When one of the nurses looked in – an expression of trepidation on her face – he actually smiled. "Good morning. Are you here to take more blood?"
"No", she smiled. "Just removing the catheter. The doctor said you're good to go!"
He laughed at her pun. "I shall be soon, at any rate." He watched as she pushed aside the covers and then laid back and stared at the ceiling. He knew she was a nurse and used to this sort of thing, but he hated it. He didn't like to be touched by anyone not of his choosing and especially not down –
"There. All done." She said, removing all the paraphernalia. "I'll leave the urinal by your bed – I'm afraid you're not quite up to going to the bathroom by yourself, although soon you will. I'll be back in a bit to help you get out of bed and sit in the chair."
"Oh joy", he muttered, but at her look he smiled again. "I look forward to it."
Once he was sitting in the chair he realized he was back to being bored. He could only stare at the walls for so long without going crazy. He was going to have to get Teresa to tell him about the latest case his team was looking into. He could at least help out.
In the meantime he was going crazy. He finally succumbed and rang for the nurse. When she finally came he asked for what he wanted and she returned a few minutes later with a pad of paper and a pen.
He thanked her and then got down to work.
By the time Teresa came in he was deep in thought, the pen held between his lips and a frown on his face. So hard was he concentrating that it took him a moment to realize she was there.
"Teresa!" he said with a smile. "You're here."
"Morning." She leant over and gave him a kiss. "It's nice to see you sitting up."
"Mmm – sadistic nurses", he muttered.
"Are you in pain?" She looked at him carefully, and thought he looked a bit better this morning.
"Of course", he muttered, although he almost immediately smiled. "But I'm better now."
At that moment she noticed the pad of paper in his hand. As she sat in the chair beside him she nodded towards it. "What's that?"
"Nothing", he shrugged. He looked rather embarrassed and put his hand over the pad. "Just doodling."
"Patrick!"
"What?" He tried to look innocent but didn't succeed, looking even more uncomfortable.
"What is that? Come on – you're hiding something!"
"No", he shook his head and looked down at the pad. With another shrug he handed it to her.
She took it, wondering what in the world could make Patrick uncomfortable. He was not a man to let much bother him.
She stared down at the paper in front of her. There was a list of names – most of them men's names, although there were some women's names as well. What in the world? This couldn't be a case because she'd made all her co-worked swear, on pain of death, that they wouldn't involve Jane in any cases.
"What -?"
"Just some names", he replied, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
"I can see that. But what are they about? Whose names are they?"
"Just names", he murmured. "Wanted to see which ones I liked."
"Which you – oh!" It suddenly dawned on her. She looked down again at the list and could feel her eyes tear up. "They're baby names."
"Mmm", he murmured, still keeping his eyes closed.
She wanted to hug him and kiss him silly – but two things stopped her. One, he was still sore and she didn't want to hurt him and two, he felt uncomfortable about the whole thing and she knew he didn't want a fuss made.
"So, let's see what you've got." She read the names to herself. A few of them had asterisks – she assumed they were his favorites, and a few were crossed out – clearly he didn't like those. "There are way more boy's names than girl's names here." Her eyes narrowed. "You don't know something I don't know do you Patrick?"
"Who me? How would I know anything?"
"I don't know – but then you've often figured things out and I've had no idea how you did it. I sometimes wonder if you really are psychic."
"Bite your tongue Teresa", he told her, opening his eyes and lifting his head from off the back of the chair. "You know I'm not. I just happen to know more boy names."
"Okay fine, have it your way. Now, let's see. Adam, Adrian, Aiden, Alexander – that's nice, how come you crossed it out?"
"My father's name", he said shortly.
"Oh – I'm sorry. I knew that." She returned to the list, not wanting to make a big deal of it. "Andrew – I kind of like that. It goes with Jane. Austin? I'm not sure about that. It might be confusing."
"Yeah, I agree."
"Benjamin – I assume you crossed it out because of Rigsby's kid?"
"Mmm hmm. Nice name but I want something different."
"Me too. Caelan and Caedan. Those are nice."
"Irish", he smiled. "Have to keep up the tradition."
"Was your mother Irish too Patrick?"
"English", he answered. "At least her parents were. She was born here."
"Explains the tea."
"Yeah", he smiled, suddenly seeming more relaxed. "So, you see anything on there you like?"
"Besides Caelan and Caedan? Well, I do like the Irish names – Connor, Declan, Ian."
"Ian's Scottish", he told her. "Sean is Irish."
"Really? Well, I still like it. Sean Jane? No – too short. Nicholas is nice. Tiberius? Isn't that a bit – pretentious?"
He simply grinned but didn't say anything.
There were a few others that were just plain weird, like Ulysses and "Uriah? Now that's just plane ugly Patrick". She knew darn well he'd put the unusual names there to amuse her, even if he hadn't been a hundred percent sure he wanted to show her the list. At least she hoped so.
"Matthew, Michael, Timothy, Thomas – those are all very nice but not very original."
"No, but it's hard to find something that goes with Jane."
"How about Patrick?"
He grimaced. "I wouldn't want to name a kid after me", he told her. She immediately swatted him, knowing where that had come from and refusing to allow it.
"It's a good name from a good man. I'd be proud to name our son after you."
He looked uncomfortable again, and instead of replying to that asked her a question. "So, what about the girl's names."
"Abigail, Adalyn, Adrienne, Beatrice." She noticed that had an asterisk and she wondered why. It didn't quite seem a name Jane would pick. She glanced up at him.
"My mother's name", he told her, although he looked down when he said it.
"Oh. Okay." She continued on with the list. "Alexandra – uh, it's not crossed out?"
"No. I like it for a girl."
"Yeah, it's a pretty name and it goes well with Jane."
He nodded but didn't say anything more. She continued reading. There were a number of more popular names, although a number of those were crossed out including Emma – "too many", he said. She agreed. "Kaitlin, Makayla, Riley – I like that, Erin, Molly, Kira, Tara and -" She looked up at him, surprised at the final name.
"I thought – maybe a middle name?" He sounded so hesitant, so unsure that she wanted to hug him.
"Of course", she said softly, covering his hand with hers. "Charlotte is a lovely name and it will be a great way to remember her."
He nodded, but didn't speak for a moment. "What about you? What names do you like?"
"Well, I like most of the names on your list, again I especially like the Irish ones. They do go nicely with Jane." She shook her head. "It's going to be hard."
"What about your mother's name? What was it?"
"Katherine", she told him softly. "I've always liked that."
"How about Katherine Charlotte?"
"Katherine Charlotte Jane?" She thought a moment. "Sounds very regal."
"Of course. We'll have two – Katherine and Tiberius, the perfect family!"
She giggled and stood up and gave him another kiss. "Thank you."
"For what?" he looked surprised.
"For doing this. I know it's hard for you and I – I appreciate it."
"Hey, I may still panic now and then, but I am happy about this you know."
"I know."
"And I don't want to have a nameless kid."
"Of course not."
"And it is only six weeks away."
"Oh God", she leaned her head until it was resting on Jane's shoulder. "Six weeks Jane. What am I going to do? I don't know how to look after babies."
"You will", he told her affectionately. "And you're going to be great. I mean, you've looked after me all these years. A baby can't be harder than that!"
She giggled. "You're right." She stopped for a few seconds, thinking about the years ahead. Suddenly her head lifted from his shoulder and she frowned. "But it will be your kid." Her head plopped back down. "Oh no."
He simply smiled and put his hand on her head. He suddenly could hardly wait to see his son or daughter.
So – I would love people's thoughts/suggestions/votes on baby names.
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