TITLE: HOTEL, part III
AUTHOR: Scott J. Welles
ARCHIVE: Yes, but please write and tell me where.
CATEGORY: f/f Slash
SPOILERS: For early season 8, up through "Never Say Never".
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Borrowing a page from one of Aeris' stories (luvya, babe!) and
seeing what happens...
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.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: As usual, DON'T READ if you're offended by f/f slash, but I
hope you'll enjoy this anyway!
SEND ALL COMMENTS (positive or negative) to scottjwelles@yahoo.com



Hotel, by Scott J. Welles


Part Three...

 (Tuesday afternoon...)

Randi let the hot water stream over her bare body, each droplet feeling like
a lover's touch.

After a quick rinse in the pool's locker room to clean off the chlorine,
she'd changed into her workout clothes - cropped sweats and spandex - to hit
the gymnasium.  An hour on the nautilus, then another with the free weights.
Pumping iron, feeling the burn and relishing every moment.  Then back to the
room she shared with Kerry Weaver for a long, luxurious shower.  About the
only thing she enjoyed more than a slow shower after a hard workout was
being able to spend that shower in the firm and comfortable knowledge that
she had a good, solid fucking in her near future.

She smiled to herself, unable to keep the grin off her lips as she finished
scrubbing and let the water sluice the last of the soap off her muscles.
Gliding liquidly over her skin and down her body.  A half-remembered rock
tune played in her head, and she hummed along, mostly relying on the old
reliable "da da da" for lyrics.

Sam Bardwell.  She reflected on the name, focusing her growing interest on
it as her hands roamed over her breasts.  Handsome, funny, and a doctor.
Sexy, too.  Very damn sexy.  Kerry knew him; she'd have to weasel a few
details out of her boss as soon as she could.  That might take some doing -
Kerry Weaver wasn't exactly conducive to gossip at the best of times - but
Randi was confident she was up to the task.  How well did they know each
other?  Were they lovers?  Would Kerry mind if Randi wanted to sleep with
him?  Ooh, that might be a complication; what if Kerry was still attracted
to him, and wanted to sleep with him herself?

Well, if that was the case, Randi supposed she'd have to do the decent thing
and let Kerry have him; Randi was certain she could find some other guy
easily enough, and Kerry really needed to get laid worse than she did.
Given how stressful things had been at County lately, with Malucci blowing
up at her, Chen practically spitting in her face as she quit, and Kerry's
old nemesis Susan Lewis showing up again, Kerry could definitely benefit
from a night with someone like Sam, who could make her scream it all out,
the fun way.

Rolling the stiff nipples between her fingers, Randi leaned her back against
the tile walls, one foot propped up on the safety bench, and let her right
hand drift down over her stomach, down between her legs...

The more she thought about it, actually, the more Randi liked the idea of
being able to arrange a sexual liaison for her boss.  Randi didn't usually
try to play matchmaker, especially not for a tough sell like Weaver, but
this was an emergency.  Weaver was not merely driving everyone in the
Emergency Department batty, but at the rate things were going, she was
headed straight for a full-bore nervous breakdown if she didn't manage to
find some kind of release.  Randi, who harbored a fierce loyalty both to her
friends in the ER and her boss, was prepares to take it upon herself to
solve this problem and avert the upcoming crisis by any means necessary.
The ER staff would thank her for it in the end, if only they knew, but Randi
decided that this particular bit of heroism on her part must remain unsung
for the sake of Weaver's dignity.  Kerry herself would certainly never
mention it.

Either way, Randi had no doubt that one of the two women would end up in Sam
Bardwell's bed before the conference was over, gasping and screaming as he
filled her to the brim.  It was just a question of which one it would be.

Her fingers slid between her engorged lips, penetrating herself with
practiced ease.

So, she thought, through the exotic haze that was forming, two
possibilities.  One, I sleep with Sam.  Ooh, baby, mission accomplished.
Game over.

The tips of her fingers found her favorite spot and began to stroke it
slowly.

Two, Kerry sleeps with him, and I get laid somewhere else.  I just find some
other good-looking guy to screw me until my toes curl ('cause it's a given
that I'll find someone when I need them), while my boss benefits from a
much-needed, long-overdue round of the world's oldest and most reliable
stress-management technique.  She wins, Sam wins, I win, some other guy
wins... Basically, everybody wins.  Maybe that's the way to go.

Her thumb found her clit and brushed over it, the texture of her thumbprint
feeling as huge as corduroy ridges.

Then again, maybe Kerry won't want to sleep with him again.  (God, why
NOT?!)  Or maybe they weren't lovers at all.  In that case, we're back to
possibility One, and he's all mine.  'Cause God knows it would be a crime to
let him go to waste...

Pulses of hot, wet pleasure were knifing through Randi's body, lighting up
the nerve pathways and making her legs tremble as her climax approached.
Jesus, how long had it been since anyone turned her on this much?  She
moaned aloud, her fingers moving faster.

Possibility Three, she thought suddenly.  Suppose Kerry would be willing to
share Sam with her...?

"Oh, Jesus...!"  Randi's orgasm flashed through her, nearly making her knees
give out, making her senses fade for several heartbeats before they returned
again.  Okay, she had to admit that last possibility was a bit of a stretch,
but it was strangely exciting to think about...

Randi let her breathing slow, regaining her equilibrium before standing
upright and shutting off the water.  She let it drip away, trickling down
the drain, watching the steam rise off her skin in the cooling air.  Man,
she felt good.

Sliding the shower door open, she stepped out, reaching for a bath towel.
She toweled herself dry with slow, almost hedonistic languor.  Savoring the
feeling...

Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she paused.  The fog had receded
from the glass, and she could see the essence of herself, the sleek
sensuality, the pantherlike grace, the sheer erotic power of an Angelina
Jolie poster come to life.  Check me out, she purred inwardly, running the
tip of her tongue over her lips.  I am woman, I am sex.  Wow.

What would be the perfect thing to say if Sam could see her like this, right
now?  She thought about it as she finished drying her shins and shook her
damp hair into an artfully tousled array.  'Here I am, sweetie.'  No.   'Come
and get me, babe.'  Worse.  Then, as she reached for the doorknob, it came
to her.

She smiled as she threw the door open seductively, giving it a try.  "All
yours, lover..."

"AAAHHH...!!"  Kerry must have jumped a foot in the air.

"Whoa, shit...!"  Randi reacted to her scream, her seductive pose dissolving
into gangling knees and elbows, all banging against the bathroom doorjamb.
She gasped, slack-jawed and bug-eyed, at Kerry Weaver, who leaned against
the opposite wall, one hand grasping her heart, her face a mirror of
Randi's.  "Dr. Weaver..."

"Jesus Christ, Randi!  Have you turned into some kind of nymphomaniac or
something?!"

"No!  I mean, I wasn't expecting..."  It was hard to talk with her heart
racing like that.  "I didn't hear you come in, and..."

Both women realized that Kerry was staring at Randi's nude body at the same
time, and both reacted with reflexive embarrassment.  Kerry quickly averted
her eyes, turning away, while Randi hastily covered her breasts with both
arms and retreated back through the bathroom door, closing it.  She sat on
the toilet seat lid and dropped her face into her hands, thoroughly
mortified.

Oh man, talk about bad timing.  First she crawls into bed with Weaver, then
she creeps her out with that sex talk down in the registration line, and now
she practically throws herself at her boss in the nude.  Kerry probably
thought Randi was nuts by now.  I'll be lucky if she doesn't slap me with a
sexual harassment suit before we go home, she thought.

Standing up and looking herself in the mirror, Randi forced herself to calm
down.  "All right," she told herself quietly.  "You're naked in a hotel
bathroom, you've just made a complete fool of yourself, and your boss thinks
you're a psychotic nympho.  You can deal with this; you've been through
worse."  Like that period in the late 80's when she dressed like Cyndi
Lauper for a year.  Ugghhh...

Grabbing the biggest towel from the rack, she wrapped it around herself,
securing it under her arms.  It covered her from chest to upper thighs; she
wished for something bigger, but it was the best she could do right now.
"Just go out there and explain the situation to her," she told herself.
"Kerry Weaver's a reasonable woman.  She'll understand."

Yeah, right.

Taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, Randi opened the bathroom
door, half expecting the room to be empty; it wouldn't surprise her if Kerry
had fled.

Instead, she quickly spotted Kerry over by the small honor bar, pouring
herself a drink with shaking hands; there was much clinking and clattering
of bottles and glasses.  Randi had never seen her so nervous.

"Umm..."  Randi cleared her throat, venturing cautiously out of the
bathroom.

Kerry turned with a jerk, looking small and almost frightened.  Randi
realized she was between Kerry and the door, the only means of escape unless
Kerry wanted to jump off the balcony.  And if things got any tenser, she
just might.

"Listen," Randi began, "I'm sor--"

"Randi, I want to apologize," Kerry cut in, talking very quickly.  "I
completely overreacted just now, and I'm very sorry."

Caught by surprise, Randi's own apology died on her lips.  Kerry Weaver was
apologizing to her??  Lord knew that was a first!  "Um, it's okay," she
mumbled.

"No, I-I should have knocked before letting myself in," Kerry stammered.   "I
thought you'd be out, or I never would have..."

"Wait, Dr. Weaver, you don't have to knock.  This is your room too, and you
paid for it..."

"I know, but you should have the right to your privacy, and I didn't..."
Kerry sucked in a short breath.  "I didn't mean to barge in on you..."   She
broke off and gulped her drink, her hand still shaking.

Randi gave a snorting laugh.  "Jesus, Doc, get over it!  So you saw me
naked, big deal!  Doesn't exactly put you in rare company."

Kerry nodded, leaning against the counter and letting out a shaky breath.

"What are you so rattled for, anyway?" Randi asked her with a smirk.   "I
mean, come on, it's not like you, of all people, never saw a naked woman up
close before, right?"

It was one of the few times in Randi's life when she wished she could turn
the clock back about five seconds and stop herself from saying one of the
snappy remarks that came to her naturally.

Kerry's head came up sharply.  "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded
in a dead flat voice, her nervousness evaporating.

Randi found herself suddenly nervous, realizing she'd said the wrong thing.
"Uh, well, y'know, I mean...'cause you're a doctor, right?  You see a lot of
naked people in your work, don't you?"  Most of the time, she could lie and
improvise with the best of them, but this time she was caught point blank by
the toughest person she'd ever had to fool.  And it was hardly her best
comeback, anyway.

Kerry's gaze narrowed like a laser beam.  "Yes, I do," she stated.   "But
that's not what you were talking about.  Is it?"  It wasn't a question.

Randi scrambled mentally for a response that would get her off the hook, but
for once she came up dry.  It didn't help that she wore nothing but a towel.
Under the circumstances, she suddenly felt truly naked.  "Dr. Weaver..." she
said helplessly.

Kerry stared a hole through her for a short eternity, until Randi dropped
her gaze to the floor.  Busted.

"You know about us," Kerry said quietly, looking away, out through the glass
door of the balcony.  "Don't you?

A hundred different possible fake answers suddenly sprang to her mind,
followed instantly by the certainty that not one of them would fool Kerry.
"About you and Dr. Legaspi, you mean?" she finally said softly.   "Yeah, I
do."

Both women were quiet in the still room.  The revelation of Kerry's secret
seemed to hover in the air like a pronouncement of doom.

"Hey, listen..." Randi began.

"All right," Kerry said, as though accepting her fate.  "Who told you?"

"Oh, come on, give me some credit," Randi said, a shadow of her usual cocky
grin returning.  "You think I didn't see the way you two reacted every time
you were together?  Nobody had to tell me."  She smiled, trying to ease
Kerry's spirits.

Kerry nodded, her expression not giving an inch.  "And how many people have
you told?"

Randi's smile vanished.  "Nobody," she replied, feeling stung.

"Come on, Randi!  You expect me to believe that you haven't jumped at the
chance to spread that little choice tidbit around the rumor mill?" Kerry
sneered.

"Yeah, I do," Randi insisted, defensively.

Kerry snorted and shook her head, looking disgusted.  "Don't insult me," she
grated.  "You, of all people..."

"I haven't told anyone!" Randi shot back angrily.  "I'm telling you the
truth!"

The older woman just stared at her with unmasked skepticism.

"Look, Dr. Weaver, I enjoy a good gossip as much as anyone," Randi informed
her, "but I don't go spreading it if I think it would hurt people's
feelings.  Especially not people I have respect for."  The towel was
beginning to slip, but neither of them noticed, more concerned with their
argument.

Kerry kept a harsh eye on Randi's face, but her look softened the slightest
amount.  "Well, I appreciate that," she finally admitted.  The tension level
in the room slowly eased, but there was still an uncomfortable feeling
hovering between them.

Randi gave her towel a hitch, narrowly avoiding another embarrassing moment,
and Kerry finished her drink.  She turned away to fix another one.  "Would
you like one?" she asked, her politeness all the more stiff and
self-conscious for its insincerity.

"Sure," Randi said.  Naked with the boss, dark secret revealed...why not add
alcohol to the mix?  Couldn't hurt, at this point.  She grabbed her tee
shirt and jeans and pulled them on while Kerry fixed the drinks, all the
while trying to think of a way to resolve this scene gracefully.  Weaver
could be one hell of a grump in passing, but a concentrated dose of her in a
bad mood could leave permanent scars...

When she turned around to hand Randi her drink, though, the clerk thought
that she was close to tears.  Her face had that carefully frozen look that
Randi had seen when she'd had to stand there and take abuse from Romano and
couldn't do a thing about it.  That
'I-feel-like-crying-but-no-way-in-hell-am-I-gonna-do-so-in-front-of-anyone'
look.  Randi had seen that look on Kerry Weaver before, and it always made
her feel terrible.  More so in this case, because Randi knew what it felt
like.  She'd felt the same thing that day when Kerry had asked what she did
time for, that sick feeling that your secret was out of the bag, and that
they'd all look at you differently from now on.  Kerry was obviously
experiencing the same thing tenfold.  Her entire body radiated fear of
exposure.

"I'm sorry, Randi," Kerry said, her voice low but steady.  "I do appreciate
your discretion about my relationship with Dr. Legaspi."

"Sure, it's no problem," Randi said, sipping her drink.  "Was, um, was that
why you've been so jumpy around me since we got here?  'Cause you...thought
I was coming onto you?"

Kerry nodded her head, chagrined.  "I've been a little oversensitive, to say
the least," she admitted.  "This thing with Kim is my problem, and I
shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Randi shifted her weight to the opposite hip, regarding her Chief.  "Why's
it gotta be a problem?" she asked, puzzled.  "You think you're the only
woman in the world who ever got it on with a girlfriend?"

Kerry glanced at her.

"Got news for you, Dr. Weaver.  You're not even the only one in this room."

The glance turned into a slow scrutiny.  Can I trust you? it seemed to ask.
Will you hurt me?  Out loud, Kerry said, "You've slept with a woman?"

Randi shrugged, going for false modesty.  "More than one."

Kerry sipped at her drink.

"Does that surprise you?" Randi asked her.

"I guess not," Kerry said, shaking her head.  "I sometimes forget you've
been in prison."

"Hey, whoa, uh-uh," Randi countered.  "Prison shit doesn't count; that's
such a cliché.  First off, that's not about liking girls, it's just getting
by without guys.  And second, have you seen some of the ugly bitches that
get locked up?  I wouldn't touch those sleazy skanks if it meant time off
for good behavior!  No, I was celibate the whole time I was inside."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume..."

"Nah, it's okay.  But I've still had sex with women."  She rattled the ice
in her glass.  "If you want to fix me another of these, I'll tell you about
'em, if you'd like."

Kerry regarded her, debating, propriety clashing with curiosity.  Then she
took the glass.  "Sure," she said.

They sat down with fresh drinks, and Randi propped her feet on the nearest
bed.  "Well, I've had chicks hit on me before, you know," she began.
"Sometimes in a bar, sometimes in a locker room, like that.  But I never
really planned on doing anything about it.  I never thought of myself as bi
or anything..."

"Mm-hmm?"  Kerry nodded, looking interested.

"Then, about four years ago, I was moonlighting as a trainer at this local
health club.  Didn't pay much, but I got to use the equipment whenever it
was available, so it was worth it.  So anyway, I got this rich woman, about
forty-four or so, who put on some weight during an ugly divorce, and I
helped get her down to trim.  Then, when things worked out, and she got the
house, she invited me to have dinner with her to celebrate.

"So she cooks me dinner, and somehow we end up drinking champagne in the hot
tub.  Naked, just us girls, y'know?  I've kind of got half an idea that
she's coming onto me - from some of the things she said, I wonder if that
isn't the reason for the divorce - but I've got about half a bottle in me,
and I'm feeling no pain, so I just let it happen.  I mean, how often do I
get the chance to live it up like this, right?"

Kerry nodded.

"Anyway, my glass is empty, and so's the bottle, and she just takes it out
of my hand and sets it on the deck right behind me.  And then, while she's
in the vicinity, she leans over and kisses me."  Randi brought her feet down
and sat forward.  "I mean, she k-i-s-s-e-s me.  Not one of these clumsy 'I
just want to hurry up and get in your pants' mouth-munches, I'm talking
about the slow, sweet kind of kiss that lights you up like the scoreboard at
a ballpark.  Maybe it's just the water or the champagne, but this woman just
about melted me with her lips and her tongue, and just the faintest touch of
her fingers on my face, right here..."  She caressed her cheek, just under
the hinge of her jaw, indicating.  "You ever been kissed like that?"

"Yes..." Kerry replied faintly.  Her lips were softly parted, and her cheeks
flushed.

Randi sat back.  "Well, after that," she continued, "I wasn't about to say
no to anything she wanted to do to me, for me, or with me."  She took a slow
sip, staring at Kerry over the rim.  "And I didn't.  And she did.  For two
hours solid, swear to God."

"Oh my..."  Kerry shifted, crossing her legs the other way.

"Things didn't work out with her after that," Randi said.  "She wanted me to
quit my job at the hospital, move in with her, and be her full-time, live-in
trainer-slash-lover.  Maybe her maid, too, for all I know."

"And you didn't want that?" Kerry said, her voice a little huskier.   "Some
people wouldn't mind being a kept woman."

"Would you want to be one?" Randi replied.

Kerry shook her head.

"Me neither.  I mean, maybe I would, for someone I liked.  But she didn't
ask me, she told me, the bitch.  Like I belonged to her now."  She took a
harsh gulp of her drink.  "I told her to get a cat or something, and I
dumped her.  Never saw her again."

A slight smile turned up the corners of Kerry's lips.  "I'm glad you made
that choice," she said.  "I'd have hated to lose your services."

No chance, Randi thought.  I like my job.  But it wouldn't do to admit that
to Weaver.  "Since then, there have been a couple of times when I let some
woman take me home.  Not many, but a couple."

"Just one-night stands?"

"Uh-huh.  Nothing to write home about, but they got the job done."   She
finished her drink.  "How about you?  Have you had other women before Dr.
Legaspi?"

Kerry looked down into her own empty glass and shook her head.  "No."

"First one, huh?"

"Mm-hmm."  Kerry got up and refilled the drinks.  Randi didn't usually drink
in the middle of the day, but this unexpected chat with Kerry Weaver was
becoming enjoyable, and she didn't want to break the mood.  Sitting down
again, Kerry asked, "Have you ever had a real relationship with a woman?
Something that lasted longer than a single night?"

Randi listened for any hint of judgment in Kerry's voice, and found none.
She was just curious.  "Yeah, actually," she said.  "At least I guess you
could call it that.  I used to share an apartment with my friend
Goldfish...her name was actually Golda Fischer, but with a name like that,
she didn't stand a chance.

"Anyway, we were dating these guys, and they were supposed to take us out
for her birthday.  Only we were all dolled up for a night out on the town,
followed by a night of passion, and we're waiting for them to show up...and
they didn't.  I later found out a buddy of theirs scored some extra Bulls
tickets."

Kerry groaned.  "Oh God, they stood you up for a basketball game?  That's
just wrong."

"You're tellin' me!  Goldie would've killed to see the Bulls!"

Kerry just shook her head, lamenting the male obsession with sports.

"Yeah, she was crushed when the guys didn't show.  Goldie was looking
forward to a good long fuck on her birthday, same as me.  We put a brave
face on it, blowing out some candles and opening some presents, but I knew
she was hurt.  We went to bed in our rooms, alone.  Those thoughtless
dickheads never even called with an excuse."

"Appalling."

Randi paused, suddenly uncertain about continuing this particular story; it
had some distinct similarities to what had happened with Kerry the night
before.  But, having begun sharing, she decided she owed it to Kerry to
finish.  Maybe it would offer some of the comfort she hadn't felt able to
give her directly.  "Well, anyway, I kind of made a decision," she said.   "I
could hear Goldfish crying softly in the next room, and I felt really bad
for her."

"Understandably," Kerry put in softly.

"Uh-huh.  Well..."  Randi paused again, then decided to just be honest.
"Long story short, I got up, walked into her room, got into bed with her,
and we made love."  She watched Kerry for any reaction, any discomfort at
the similarity to their encounter from last night.

Kerry just had a slightly wistful expression.  "That's beautiful," she said.

Randi nodded, fingering the rim of her glass.  "Never said a word," she
said.  "Except when I whispered, 'Happy Birthday, Goldie'."

They sat quietly, listening to the faint patter of rain on the balcony rail.

"Did you love her?" Kerry finally asked softly.

Randi was a little surprised by the question.  "Well, sure, I mean she was
my friend.  I liked her and cared about her, and she was good in bed..."
The answer felt kind of inadequate, even in Randi's ears.

"How long were you together?"

"That kinda depends on your definition, I guess," Randi said.  "We weren't
really exclusive with each other.  I mean, we kept dating guys - not the
same two guys, obviously! - but we still slept with each other from time to
time, if neither of us was seeing anyone else."  She finished her drink.
"She moved out last year when she got married."

The smile seemed to fade just a bit.  "I see."

"No big deal, it's not like we were in love or anything," Randi added.   "I
mean, we both still liked men.  We liked each other, and we liked having sex
with each other sometimes, but we weren't, like, soulmates."

"No, of course not," Kerry replied, with the slightest sardonic tone.

Something in the turn the conversation had taken was irritating Randi.  "You
know, Dr. Weaver, just because I enjoy sex without a big emotional
commitment doesn't mean I'm a slut," she said, feeling and sounding a little
more defensive than she cared for.

"I never said you were."

"Then what's the problem?"

Kerry sighed.  "Forget it, Randi, there's no problem."

Randi slumped in her chair, feeling sulky.  "If you say so."

Kerry got up to refill her drink again, then decided against it.  "Let me
ask you this," she said.  "Have you ever been in love?"

She looked up at her boss.  "With a woman?"

"With anyone."

Randi shrugged helplessly, uncertain how to respond.  "I dunno, I..."

"Then you haven't," Kerry said.

Huffing out an annoyed breath, Randi set her glass aside.  "So what if I
haven't?  What's your point?"  Something about Kerry's line of thought was
making her feel quarrelsome, but she didn't know where it was going.

"Well, you started this conversation to show me you knew what I was going
through," Kerry replied.  "So far, you've told me about your sexual
encounters with women, but you've downplayed any real personal connection.
Interspersed with pointed references to how you sleep mostly with men, of
course, though they don't seem to have had any more relevance to you.  Even
with your roommate, you make sex sound like a consolation prize.  If that's
how it is for you, that's your affair, Randi, but if you were trying to
relate it to my situation, I think you've missed the mark."

Randi rubbed her forehead, nursing the small ache behind her right eyebrow.
Maybe there was a good reason she didn't drink in the afternoon.  "What are
you trying to say, Dr. Weaver?  You're so afraid 'cause people might
discover you slept with Legaspi, and I'm just trying to show you that sex
with another woman's no big fucking deal.  It's just sex, for God's sake!"

"That's what I mean," Kerry responded.  "It's not an issue for you because
that's all it is to you.  A sexual sideline."

That ache was building fast.  "Jesus, what are we arguing about?  What's the
difference?"

"Are you a lesbian?" Kerry asked suddenly.

"No!  Of course not!"  The answer popped out with a scowl.  She didn't think
about it, just answered instinctively.

"There," Kerry said, leaning forward and raising a finger.  "That's the
difference."

Baffled, Randi shook her head.  "What?"

"Your reaction.  You can sleep with whoever you want to, as long as it
doesn't mean anything.  But it would bother you to be thought of as a
lesbian."

"That's because I'm not!"

"Well, I am."

Randi's voice stalled, and she just stared at Kerry.

"I am a lesbian, Randi."  Kerry's voice was completely matter-of-fact.

A couple of words tried to come out of Randi's throat, but didn't even make
it as far as her vocal cords.  Finally, she heard herself say, "No you're
not."  Like it was a silly idea.

Kerry's face grew more aloof, but she didn't raise her voice.  "I think I'm
in a better position to make that determination, don't you?"

Randi gave a little disbelieving laugh.  "You mean, like, a full-out
lesbian?  A no-men-ever-again, women-only lesbian?"

Kerry nodded tiredly.  "I think so, yes."

"But you've been with men, haven't you?" Randi protested.  "I mean, you were
with Dr. West a few years ago.  And that friend of yours, tall guy from
Africa...?"

"Mlungisi, yes."

"You jumped into his arms and kissed him pretty steamily.  You telling me
you were just friends?"

"No, we were lovers," Kerry said.  "And you're right, Ellis and I were
lovers, later."

"Then what...oh, did you have to fake it with them?"

Kerry suddenly had that familiar look of irritation, but she kept herself
under control.  "No, Randi," she answered patiently, "I did not have to
'fake it'.  If you must know, my physical relationships with men have all
been satisfying.  But, in your own words, they were 'just sex'."

Randi was finding this increasingly hard to grasp.  "But not with Legaspi?"

"No," Kerry told her.  "With Kim, it was more."

Randi thought about it, trying to understand how one relationship with a
woman could cause a mature woman like Kerry to swear off sex with men,
something Randi couldn't imagine doing.  Those years in the joint were tough
enough; why would anyone do it voluntarily?  There had to be a reason.   "So,
it was...really, really good sex?"

Kerry snorted in exasperation, spinning to pace the short length of the
hotel room.  "For God's sake Randi, it was not just about sex!"

"Wait, wait..." Randi got up, holding her palms forward placatingly.
"Please don't get mad, Dr. Weaver, I don't mean to argue with you.  Of
course, you're right, you'd know what you are better than I would."

"Thank you," Kerry grunted sarcastically, still sounding extremely miffed.

"I'm just trying to understand, that's all.  I mean, how can you be sure
that you're a lesbian?  How do you know something like that?"

"You just know," Kerry snapped, looking away.

The whole issue was obviously upsetting to her, and Randi hated being the
cause of it, but somehow, she couldn't just let it go.  It seemed important
to get to the root of the matter, though she wasn't sure why.  "I'm sorry if
I don't get it," she assured Kerry.  "I'm really trying hard."

Kerry sighed, as if reluctantly disclosing something she'd guarded
carefully.  "Do you remember a fire at a local sweatshop?  The patients we
received?"

A chill ran through Randi's heart.  She was used to blood and guts, but burn
victims were a special source of horror she'd never entirely become
accustomed to.  "Yeah, I remember."

"That was partly my fault," Kerry told her quietly, without looking at her.
"At least indirectly.  Maybe it would have happened anyway, sooner or later.
I'll never know."

Randi wasn't sure she wanted to hear more on this subject, but having gotten
Kerry Weaver to open up, she felt obligated to listen to anything the Chief
had to tell her.

"Kim and I made love for the first time the night before the fire," Kerry
went on, "and as wonderful as it was, some part of me was convinced it
wouldn't last long.  As I went to work, I had already begun talking myself
into downplaying things with Kim, gradually closing myself off from her
before it was too late.  I didn't know it was already too late.

"Then the fire happened, and it..."  She paused, as if finding it difficult
to talk about.  "It was the worst day of my professional life, Randi."

Randi wanted to pat her back and let her know it was okay, but she feared
that touching Kerry might burst the delicate moment they were sharing.

"Any other time in my life, I would have gone home and hidden myself from
the world and tried to bury my feelings forever.  Alone."

"But not this time?" Randi ventured.

"No."  Kerry raised her eyes.  "This time, I wanted...I needed to be with
Kim.  I went to her house and knocked on her door."  She wiped away the
smallest beginnings of a tear.  "What you have to understand, Randi, is that
every time I've been with a man, I've felt this constant pressure to be the
brightest, wittiest, most charming version of myself possible, or I wouldn't
be good enough to hold their interest."  She sniffled.  "Sometimes breaking
up was almost a relief; the pressure was off."

Randi just listened, intently.

"But with Kim...when she let me in, I wasn't being pretty, or funny, or
sexy.  I was a complete wreck, and she didn't care.  She took me in without
any questions, and she held me.  All night, while I talked and cried and
slept...she just held me, no matter what."

Randi felt the lump form in her throat again, and found herself wishing that
she could have been there.  If she'd known at the time, maybe she could have
followed Kerry home from work, or...

"I've never been able to allow myself that kind of total vulnerability with
a man, Randi.  Not even with my husband.  I couldn't even imagine it.   Still
can't."  She looked at Randi.  "It's not that I dislike men, it's just
that..."

"That what?"  Part of her mind flagged the word 'husband', making a note to
come back to that subject at a later point.

Kerry looked at the room around them.  "Do you like our room, Randi?"

Caught off guard by the question, Randi looked around as well.  "Yeah,
sure...it's very nice."

"You were more enthusiastic about it yesterday."

"Sure, 'cause it was a novelty.  Kinda wears off after a while."

Kerry nodded.  "Would you like to stay here forever?"

Randi snorted.  "Hell, no."

"Why not?  It's got everything you need."

"Yeah, but it's not...I mean, you can't redecorate it yourself, to suit your
tastes, 'cause it's not yours.  Besides, you couldn't afford to stay here
forever."  She shrugged.  "Sooner or later, you gotta go home."

Kerry nodded.  "Every relationship I've ever had with a man has been like
staying in hotels.  Most have been comfortable, some were luxurious, some
merely functional.  But no matter how much I enjoyed my stay, I knew it
couldn't last.  Most didn't feel right in the long run, and with those that
did...I just couldn't afford to stay.  It cost too much."  She sighed.
"That's the thing about hotels.  You have to know when to leave, or you
outstay your welcome, and there are consequences."

Randi nodded, not entirely understanding, but maybe a little.

"With Kim," Kerry continued, "I felt like I was home."  She looked out the
balcony door, at the pouring rain that never seemed to let up.  "And that
was why losing her was so much worse."

There was a long silence.

Then Kerry looked at her watch.  "Shit," she said, "I'm going to be late for
the cardiotherapy discussion.  I didn't mean to spend as much time in here."

Randi felt the shift in the air, signifying the end of the conversation.
"I'm glad you did," she said.  "I liked talking to you."

"Yeah, me too," Kerry said, a little curtly, while gathering her notebooks.
"And, Randi, this is still all something I'd appreciate your keeping to
yourself, all right?"

"Of course I will, Dr. Weaver."  She was a trifle irked that Kerry would
find it necessary to ask.  But, Weaver being Weaver, it didn't surprise her.

"Thanks.  Okay, then, um...I'll see you here at six?"  Kerry looked like she
thought there was something else that needed to be said, but she didn't know
what it was.

"Six, sure.  I'll be here," Randi told her.

"All right then."  Kerry nodded a little self-consciously and retreated out
the door.

Randi, suddenly feeling alone in the empty hotel room, gathered her glass
and Kerry's and rinsed them out in the sink.  Her talk with Kerry had left
her feeling strangely unsettled, as one might feel after talking to a
visitor from another world, with very different attitudes and philosophies.
It was a rare and precious experience, but it had raised more questions than
it resolved, and Randi found herself having to reexamine some of her own
viewpoints.

It bothered her that she had reacted so negatively to the thought of Kerry
being a lesbian.  She'd initially thought that Kerry was like her,
essentially straight, but able to enjoy women as an adjunct, or corollary of
her sex life.  That would have helped Randi relate to the enigmatic,
powerful woman she worked with, and Kerry's declaration of lesbianism had
struck her, perhaps irrationally, as a rejection of Randi's worldview.  She
knew it was unfair to look at it that way; Kerry had every right to be
whatever she damn well decided she was, same as anyone, and Randi had to
admit that she'd made a good argument to prove that she was really a
lesbian, but, dammit...

Randi knew why it upset her.  On some level, before their talk, she'd
already decided she wanted to take Kerry out looking for men with her
tonight.  She'd wanted to share her gift for Great West Coast Sex with
Kerry, as a way of getting closer to her and thanking her for being a
steady, dependable presence in the ever-changing ER, and in Randi's life.
If Kerry no longer had interest in men, that option was out, and it felt
like the Chief was refusing a very personal gift that Randi had wanted to
give her.

Hell, it's not her fault, she couldn't be expected to read my mind, Randi
thought.  And anyway, she can't help it if we're different.  Any more than I
could help being so different from my mother...  Randi shut down that little
train of thought.

Wandering over to the glass door, she slid it aside and stepped onto the
balcony, protected from the rain by the balcony above hers.  Looking out at
the city through the light gray haze.

The other thing that bothered her, she realized, was something Kerry had
made her see about herself.  Sure, her occasional dalliances with women were
just casual flings, nothing serious.  No reason a straight woman couldn't
sleep with women now and then, just for fun.  But that led her to another
thought: her relationships with men hadn't been any deeper.  She told
herself that she wanted a long-term, meaningful relationship, and she
assumed it would happen one day, and that it would be with a man.  Maybe
Kerry had assumed the same things before she met Kim...

Randi let out a sigh.  Kerry was right; it was all about sex to her.  She'd
never been in love.

Maybe she never would be...