Kathleen awoke with a start. She could smell coffee and bacon, and sunlight
was streaming in through the windows. She glanced over at Michael's unmade,
empty bed and remembered . . . remembered the night before. She remembered
the passionate kiss they had shared. They had stopped with the kiss. They
were both unhappy about that, but they had decided it just wasn't the right
time. She had gone to bed feeling warm, yet disappointed, but definitely
loved.
She stretched and sat up. Hopping out of bed, she changed into her medic
jumpsuit and pulled back her hair. She just couldn't stop thinking about
Michael's gentle touch, his soft lips . . .
"Kathleen, you have got to snap yourself out of this," she told herself
quietly. She walked into the breakfast room with a slight smile on her face.
Michael had saved a seat for her next to him, and she got her coffee and
happily sat down next to him. Gazing around the table, she noticed that
herself and Michael were the only ones who even looked remotely happy. In
fact, the whole table was silent, and everyone's face was blank as stone.
"Is everything okay? With Wick? Did I miss anything?" she asked, gazing at
her firehouse family.
"No, no change," Carla said softly. She cocked her head slightly.
"Kathleen, can I ,uh, speak with you a moment?" she asked, standing up.
"Sure," Kathleen said rising. She followed Carla into the restroom where
Carla shut the door behind them.
"What is it? Carla?" Carla gave her a weird look and propped herself up
against the sink.
"What is up with you and Bell?" she asked bluntly. Kathleen was taken
aback.
"What?" she asked in bewilderment. "Carla, what do you mean?"
"It's just that yesterday you hated yourself an the world, and then you and
Bell go into that room and come out the next morning happy and chipper. What
is up with that?" she said, crossing her arms across her chest.
Kathleen could feel heat creeping up her face. "It's nothing . . . we just
. . . provided an . . . escape from everything . . . nothing happened . . .
we just kissed . . ." she blushed and looked away. She really had hoped it
wasn't that obvious.
"Oh my goodness, I knew it!" Carla cried, a wide grin spreading across her
face. "I knew you two were in love!" she declared rather loudly.
"Carla! Keep your voice down please!" Kathleen hissed. "We are not in love
. . ."
"Oh, bull! I knew it since the day I got here. Tell me though, didn't you
feel even the slightest bit guilty? I mean with Wick in the hospital and
everything?" Kathleen knew she meant it innocently and wasn't being
sarcastic or cruel, but the remark really hurt.
"Excuse me, Carla. I have to go," she pushed her way past the woman and
walked back into the breakfast room. "Any food left?" she asked. Bridges
shoved some cold, black bacon under her nose. "Ugh. I'll pass, thanks," she
told him. He shrugged and chomped on the bacon.
Carla came back into the room and gave Ryan a hard stare. Kathleen could
see apology in her eyes, but she was still too upset. "Kath—uh, Ryan?" Bell
said, stumbling over his words.
"Hmm?" she grunted from the counter.
"After shift change in ten minutes," he said looking at his watch, "you
wanna go check on Wick with me?" he suggested. Kathleen nodded and Michael
gave her a small smile. He was still kicking himself for slowing things down
the night before . . .
Durfee came in the room. "Okay, boys and girls, get ready for shift
change," everyone hurried from the room to change and pack up their few
small items. Kathleen picked up the small picture from her bedside. In the
picture was her, Michael and Wick, smiling up at the camera outside the
station. She sighed and set the picture back down.
Michael came up from behind her and buried his face in her neck. "Mmm,"
Ryan murmured as he kissed her neck gently. She turned around and kissed him
softly. "I have to change," she told him. She could see he was already
dressed.
"Go ahead," he said, not budging.
"Why don't you go get my duffel bag from Carla?" she suggested. When he
still didn't move, she kissed him harder. "Please?" he nodded and hurried
off. She slipped her jumper off and put on a pair of black jeans and a white
T-shirt. She shook her hair loose, and was brushing it when Bell came back
into the room.
"Damn," was all he could manage. She laughed and grabbed the bag. Throwing
in her jumpsuit, brush and clothes, she zipped the bag and grabbed Michael's
arm.
"Come on. Let's go see Wick," she said. They went out to the front of the
station and each got in their respective vehicles.
A few minutes later they pulled up at the hospital and hopped out of their
cars. They linked arms again and walked in through the visitors door. A
nurse told them to go on in and visit, and then she'd give them the full
update. Kathleen opened the door and pulled up a stool. Michael sat on the
stool, and Kathleen sat on the side of Wick's bed.
They talked to him for what seemed like hours. And they even told him about
the kiss they had shared. Suddenly, the moniter beside Wick's bed began
beeping frantically. A nurse came running in and shouted for them to clear
the room. They stood outside while the doctors worked on Wick . . .
Minutes later a nurse came out and assured them that he was fine, and that
there was only a slight problem. She also told them that he had woken up.
They rushed inside. Wick turned his head. "Ryan! Bell!" he said, his voice
thin and weary. "What are you guys doing here?" he asked.
"Well, we came to see you," Kathleen said. Michael smiled, nodded and
slipped his arm around Kathleen's waist. She laid her head on his shoulder
and smiled down at Wick.
"Ah, the happy couple. I heard everything, you know. Every word. I'm happy
for you guys," he said. He coughed violently, and then looked up at them.
"Uh. . . guys, I'm tired . . . so, I'm gonna take a nap, okay?"
"Absolutely. We'll be right outside when you wake up," Michael said. Wick
didn't hear that, because he had already drifted off to sleep.
Kathleen excused herself and went to the restroom where she rested on the
cool porcelain sink. Something had happened back there when Wick had called
them a happy couple. Something inside her had woken up. She realized that
she wanted more than just a fling from Michael. Wanted more from him than to
simply take her mind off her problems . . . she wanted someone to be there
for her . . . for life . . . she only hoped he felt the same way . . .
****
Kathleen sat in the hard chair in the waiting room, patiently waiting for
Michael to return from the restroom. She'd had realized so much, and the
stakes were so high. There was so much riding on it. She was still debating
on whether or not to tell him that she felt ready for a commitment. They had
only shared a few kisses . . . but she loved him deeply. "I'll give it more
time," she murmured aloud.
"Give what more time?" Michael asked as he approached.
"Oh, nothing," she said smiling. The last thing she needed right now was
for Michael to know how she felt. Wick was still sick, and they had just
gotten together. And they weren't even official yet.
He shrugged. "You want to go check on Wick? His rooms pretty close," he
suggested. Kathleen nodded and they walked towards his room. As they were
about to open the door, a nurse stepped in front of them.
"I'm sorry," she said in a heavy Spanish accent, "you cannot go in there,"
she hurried away, shooting them warning glances as she went. By now Ryan was
really worried. She found Griffith.
‘What the hell's going on with Wick?" she demanded. "Why can't we see him?"
"Ryan, I'm sorry, but Wick's internal bleeding has started up again, and
we're prepping him for emergency surgery. I have to go," he rushed past them
and into Wick's room.
"Oh my God!" Ryan exclaimed. She felt faint. Her knees were weak, so she
stumbled into a chair. Michael slumped down in the one next to hers. They
were both in a state of shock. " i know I should stay," she said. "But . . .
my Grandmother's at home . . ." she stammered.
Michael stood and helped her to her feet. "Okay. It's okay. You want me to
help you to the parking lot?" he asked.
"No . . . I'll be okay. Call me the minute he gets out of surgery," she
demanded. She was extremely worried about Wick, but she had to take care of
her Grandmother. Michael nodded. He leaned over and gave her a small kiss.
"I will, I promise," Ryan thanked him and grabbed her things. He watched
her hurry down the hallway.
"Um . . . Bell?" asked a voice from behind. He turned around to see Megan.
"Megan? You're still on duty?" he asked surprised.
"I get off in ten minutes. I was just . . . wondering if we could talk,"
she said. "You know, after I get off," he nodded.
"Yeah, okay," he said. "I'll be here," she gave him one of her innocent
smiles that he always used to love. Now he found that he preferred
Kathleen's little alluring smiles. Ten minutes passed like ten hours, and
sure enough, Megan cam around to him.
"You want to go to the cafeteria?" she asked. he nodded and stood. They
walked in silence down the hallway. When they reached the cafeteria, they
sat in the closest booth. "Bell, I wanted to talk about . . . us," she said.
"Us? There is no ‘us' anymore, Megan," he told her. "Remember? Dr. Don?"
she bit her bottom lip and hung her head.
"I've been thinking, Bell," she started, "and my life hasn't been the same
since you left it," she stared into his eyes, trying to read his reaction.
"Megan, I don't know what to say, I mean I . . ." he really had no clue. He
did know that she was not someone he wanted back in his life. All Megan had
ever managed to bring to his life was pain and lies and destruction.
"Say you'll take me back, Bell. Say you'll give me—us—another chance," she
begged. Michael almost laughed out loud.
"Megan, I don't know if you're aware of this, but I'm involved with
Kathleen now," he told her. Her face showed no surprise. Just frustration.
"And I'm sorry, Megan, but I love her very much," it was the first time he
had ever said that out loud and it scared him. Megan jumped up from the
table.
"Well, then you're a bigger fool than I thought, Michael Bell," she stormed
out of the cafeteria. Michael shhok his head. He would never understand
women.
§*§*§*§
Ryan was laying on the couch in her living room when the knock on the door
came. She opened the door to find Carla standing on the stoop. "Can I come
in?" she asked. Kathleen opened the door wider and she walked in. "Wow. I
love your place," Carla enthused.
"Uh, thanks. You want to tell me why you're here?" she asked. she knew she
sounded a little rude, but she couldn't help it.
"Oh, sorry. I just wanted to apologize. I really didn't mean what I said
the way you took it," she said. "I'm really sorry I just butted into your
personal life. It's just that I don't have one of my own," she laughed and
smiled up at Ryan sheepishly. Kathleen could feel her anger evaporating.
"It's okay. I'm cool now. Hey, uh, you wanna sit down? You want a drink? I
have juice, milk, water and tea," she called from the kitchen.
"No, I'm fine," Carla said, settling down into a wooden recliner. Kathleen
came back in with a glass of tea and sat down on the couch.
"Did you hear about Wick?" Kathleen asked Carla. She shook her head. "His
internal bleeding started again, and he had to be rushed in for emergency
surgery," she hated saying those words. She didn't want to have to repeat
them to anyone else.
"Carla gasped. "No way!" she put a hand over her mouth. "Have you heard
anything else?"
"Not yet," Kathleen answered. "Michael said he'd call me from the
hospital," just then, the phone rang. "Uh, hold on," she got up and picked
up the portable. "Hello? Michael, I—what? Oh no! Oh, God! I'll be right
there," she hung up the phone. "Carla," she said, "can you please keep an
eye on my Grandmother? She's in the back room. I have to go . . . oh, God .
. . I have to go," she said.
"Yeah! Go! Call me from the hospital and keep me posted!" Carla yelled as
Kathleen headed out the door. The door slammed and she heard Ryan's jeep
tear out of the driveway.
