Disclaimer: If ER wasn't mine in the last part, I doubt anything in it's mine now.

Lost In You

She had been too busy thinking about the terrible, terrible world and poor burnt Travis and how he could have been her, or someone she knew. So she never thought- until she was home, fed, showered, and trying to go to sleep- about how that moment, up on the roof, would have been a very good moment to kiss Carter. Not a perfect moment, but a very good moment.

No, that "moment" had been in Exam Six. That was perfect! Poetry! Lucy was surprised that fireworks hadn't gone off. She was surprised that stars didn't collide and worlds didn't end. That everyone didn't stop in their tracks and say to the person next to them, "I don't know why, but there is something indescribably flawless about this day. I just can't help but feel euphoric."

That was the kind of feeling she got around him. This bubbly, champagne, I'm-about-to-go-crazy, This-is-why-Nicholas-Cage-jumped-off-the-roof-in-that-damned-movie feeling. Like she was going to explode if she didn't leave the room NOW.

So she wouldn't go crazy from the exhilarating mix of that feeling and being near him, Lucy had to ignore him a lot. Pretend like this was nothing much. But it was something much. No. It was much more than much- it was everything.

heaven knows- I'm head over heels and it shows

I've played every field, I suppose

but there's something about you

when you're around, baby, I have found

I get lost in you

When he got home- which was Weaver's basement, for Christ's sake- he couldn't decide whether he was going to die or just go insane. She was so close but he could do nothing. To do something would have been taking advantage. Ungentlemanly.

(I could not love you, dear, so much loved I not honor more.)

His parents- when they were around- had told him to always be a gentleman. His teachers at that boarding school reinforced the rule.

(I could not love you, dear, so much loved I not honor more.)

Had it been any other moment- like, say, that day Exam Six- it would certainly not be taking advantage. He wasn't that distraught over getting kicked in the chest. Lucy, though, was crying so much that Noah would have to get out his ark.

Carter smiled to himself. Sylvia, the nanny, used to say that whenever one of them cried.

"Stop this crying nonsense," she would say. Then she would smile. "Noah will have to drag the ark out."

He used to ask Sylvia for advice when he was younger. Where was she now? He needed her advice.

(I could not love you dear so much. . .)

Eventually- though much too late- they both fell asleep in their separate beds in their separate rooms in their separate buildings on their separate streets. And in their separate dreams they thought of each other and they felt close, but so very far apart.

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