Hiccups
Part Six
By Scott J. Welles
scottjwelles@yahoo.com

ARCHIVE: Yes, but please write and tell me where.
CATEGORY: f/f Slash
SPOILERS: Takes place just after "Rock, Scissors, Paper"
RATING: NC-17 (where's the fun in G Slash???)
SUMMARY: What might have happened next.
DISCLAIMER: All "ER" characters and institutions are the property of Warner Bros., ConstantC Productions and Amblin Television. This is written strictly for entertainment value, no infringement of copyright or ownership is intended, and nobody is making a profit on this piece. As always, any errors in continuity, characterization, or common sense are entirely my own fault.
SEND ALL COMMENTS (positive or negative) to scottjwelles@yahoo.com



Kim dumped her handbag on the desk and sat down behind the chair. She was barely able to ease into it before her knees gave out. She wanted to slip off her heels and rub her feet, but that would take too much energy. "God, I feel like shit," she whispered to herself, eyes closed.

Closing them was a mistake; instead of the familiar, blank panorama that was the inside of her eyelids, she saw that poor boy's face again.  Right there at the edge of the roof, utter confusion surrendering to total despair, convinced that the world didn't understand him and never would. All the same things that every sixteen-year-old who's ever walked the face of the earth has felt at one time or another, even the ones who deal with it better. And then there was her, trying to reach out with stupid, clumsy words and convince him not to jump...

A knock at the door of her tiny office snapped her eyes open. Carl DeRaad stood there, tie at half-mast, shirtsleeves rolled up, and looking every bit as tired as she was. "What's up, Carl?" Kim asked, forcing herself to sit up straighter.

"Nothing new," he answered casually. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, y'know, the usual," she replied. "The adrenaline dump's always a bitch, afterwards."

"You're talking to the choir," he said with a smile. Then he waited, letting her get to it herself, without any unnecessary prompting.

"I was the wrong person to try to talk him down," she said angrily, as it came out in a rush. She waved a hand at the boy's file on her desk.  "He's never had a positive female figure in his life, he only looks at women as objects of either lust, contempt, or utter mystery. I had no idea what to say to him!" She blew out her breath in frustration and failure. "We might as well have asked a bug-eyed monster to talk sense to him."

DeRaad let her get it out without interrupting, then just said, "Yeah, but there weren't any BEMs available, just you."

Kim ran her fingers through her hair, trying to ease the tightness in her scalp. "God, I was so fucking scared for him..."

"Sure," he said. "That's all completely true. But you know what else is true?"

She looked up at him.

"He didn't jump," DeRaad reminded her. "You got him down."

The simple, fatherly tone made her smile. Why couldn't her own father ever talk to her this way? "Yeah, I got him down," she agreed. "Even if it was by sheer dumb luck."

"Hey, never underestimate the power of sheer dumb luck," he chided. "Empires have fallen over less." They shared a minute's easy silence, then he said, "In the movies, this would be the part where I tell you to take the rest of the day off, go home, have a drink or something, but..."

"Yeah, I know. Gotta get back on the horse."

"To hell with the horse. We still need you for all the other patients who could show up today. They don't stop coming just because you've had one dramatic case this morning." He checked his watch. "I'll try and throw 'em to everyone else for a bit, okay? Get yourself together, wind down a bit, and jump in when you're ready."

"I'm okay, Carl, really," Kim assured him.

"I know you are, I just want to make sure you know it, too." He held out his hand and she shook it gratefully. "Good work, Kim."

"Thanks." She watched DeRaad leave, then poured herself a cup of ice water. Caffeine didn't sound like the best thing right now.

"Hi."

Another voice, equally familiar, made her jump in mid-sip, and she spilled a little water on herself. "Ahh! That's twice my drink's been spilled on me because of you!"

"Sorry," Kerry said, entering.

"S'okay, have a seat." Kim dabbed at her blouse with a paper towel. "You heard, huh?"

"Yeah. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Kerry. I just had this conversation with Carl DeRaad. But I'm still happy to see you."

Kerry smiled, dropping the subject.

Kim sat across the small desk and regarded her visitor. "How about you? How are you feeling?"

"You mean about last night?"

"About anything."

Kerry thought about it. "You know what I feel like right now?"

"What?"

"Like myself. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't feel any different now than I did yesterday." She glanced at the unimpressive view through the slitted blinds. "I thought maybe the world would look different to me, now that..."

Kim was silent, not volunteering to fill in the terms for her this time.

"Now that I'm in love with a woman," Kerry finished. "I don't feel like a different person, just the same one as always."

"That's good," Kim said. "I liked that person."

"Okay, there's the difference," Kerry said. "Now, I do too."

Kim smiled at her. "What were you expecting it to be like?"

"I don't know. When I woke up this morning...thanks for letting me sleep in, by the way."

"You're welcome." Kim had had to leave for work, but she'd paused in the bedroom doorway to admire the sight of Kerry Weaver curled up in her bed, sleeping contentedly.

"When I woke up, I looked at myself in the mirror and tried saying, 'I am a lesbian. I am gay.' Just to see how it felt, you know?"

"I know."

Kerry shook her head. "It didn't feel like anything at all. They were just words." There was a trace of disappointment on her face.

"Why does that bother you?" Kim asked, picking up on it.

"I'm not sure. I think...I think I feel like I'm letting you down, by not becoming... whatever it is I need to be, that..." She ran out of words. "I'm not making sense, am I?"

"Yes you are." Kim leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "Kerry," she said, "I would never ask you to change who you are, or to be something you're not. You don't have to declare yourself a lesbian, or to swear some kind of allegiance to anything."

Kerry listened without comment.

"All I ask, all I've ever asked of you," Kim went on, "is that you let yourself follow your heart, wherever it leads. I hope it will lead you to me, but that's up to you."

They looked at each other with contented longing for a while, and then Kerry's pager went off. "I have to go," she said, checking it as she stood.

"Can we have dinner tonight?" Kim asked, suddenly anxious.

Kerry shook her head. "I've got the late shift," she replied.

Kim's heart tensed.

"But...will you wait up for me?"

She nodded with relief. "Absolutely."

She watched as Kerry opened the door and almost left, but then she closed it again, turning back to Kim. "Why me?" she asked, suddenly.

"What?"

"Kim...you're so beautiful, you could have anyone you wanted..." Kerry began, obviously meaning every word in her heart.

"Kerry," Kim interrupted softly, "I already have the one I want."

Kerry let the compliment fill her, then turned with a final smile and went to work.

Kim sat again, feeling the glow of inner sunlight she always seemed to feel around Kerry. She realized she'd been holding her breath, almost waiting for something, and she took a few minutes to try to identify it.

She'd been waiting for Kerry to refuse her, that's what it was. The same thing she'd felt last night, ever since they arrived in her apartment. At each step, Kim was expecting Kerry to stop, to balk, to say no more, to draw the line and state, it's not going to happen. And today, the day after, she'd been waiting for the same thing to occur. It was the real reason she'd fled without waking Kerry, for fear that Kerry would sit up, blink, and ask, oh god, what have I done? Or to say, last night was a mistake. I can't do this. I don't want you.

But none of that had happened. And Kerry wasn't shying away from her. She wanted more. She wanted them to continue.

The moment Kim had dreaded, almost like...well, like the next hiccup...wasn't coming. At least, not today.

Kim sat back and smiled to herself.

Maybe Kerry had cured her hiccups, too.

END.

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