TITLE: HOTEL, part V
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 Five...

(Wednesday morning...)

Penance for the previous evening's alcoholic indulgences came in the form of
another two hours in the hotel gymnasium, sweating out the toxins.  Randi
had no idea how Kerry recovered; she had seemed fine when she left for the
first of the morning's panels.

Just before noon, Randi went out looking for Kerry, hoping to spot her
coming out of one panel or another.  The last one to let out, after what
sounded like a sincere round of applause, had a sign by the door reading,
"CLINICAL HUMANISM," which sounded suspiciously oxymoronic to Randi.  The
sign indicated that the panel was conducted by a 'Dr. St. James,' a name
that rang a slight bell with Randi.  She couldn't pin it down, but then,
between phone dialogues with other hospitals, an unending supply of writs,
reports, and prescriptions, and the ever-changing roster of staff and
students at County General's various departments, Randi saw and heard more
doctors' names than the alumni registrar at Johns Hopkins.

As the panel attendees began exiting, Randi and Kerry spotted each other
quickly.  "Randi, what brings you by?" the Chief asked her pleasantly.

She shrugged.  "Wondered if you wanted to get some lunch.  I'm sick of room
service."

"Sure."  Kerry grinned.  "You've been good.  I guess I owe you a real meal."

"Good.  I was hoping we could talk about--"  Randi broke off as another
familiar face came out of the small conference room.  "Well, hey there,
Tarzan."

"Esther Williams."  Sam Bardwell greeted her with a smile.  "I have to say,
you look just as good with your clothes on."

"You, too," Randi replied, admiring the way his tailored suit hugged his
form.  "Course, I'm judging from memory.  I might have to see you the other
way again, just to be sure."

"That could be arranged," he admitted.  "Long as I get to make a similar
comparison..."

"Would you two like to be alone?" Kerry put in, archly.

Sam laughed.  "Sorry, Kerry.  How'd you enjoy the talk?"

"I was quite impressed," she said, earnestly.  "I was fascinated by her
suggestions of an ideal balance between the male and female dynamics of
medicine."

"Yeah, I'll admit she had some great insights," Sam agreed.  "I thought it
was just gonna be a lot of fringy, New Age, self-help crap.  Glad to see I
was wrong."

"Would you like to join Randi and me for lunch?"

"Thanks, I'd love to, but I told Dr. Booker I'd discuss some of those
interstate committee ideas of his."  The slight scowl on his handsome
features told Randi it wasn't his first choice of conversation topics.  "I'm
looking forward to your presentation tomorrow, though."

"So am I," Kerry said, a wry smile on her face.  "I think."

"And Randi..."  He turned to her.  "I hope to see more of you before you
have to go."

She leaned closer.  "Play your cards right," she confided, "and you may get
to see all of me."

Sam didn't blush as he smiled and walked away, but it was darn close.  Randi
watched him go, enjoying the cut of his suit jacket across those broad
shoulders.  To say nothing of the way his butt moved as he walked...

Then, noticing Kerry watching her watch Sam, she said, "What?"

"You'd better be careful," Kerry told her.  "I think I'm about to trip on
your tongue in a minute."

"Can you blame me, fer gosh'sakes?"  Then, looking at Kerry, she asked,
"That okay with you?  I mean, were you two ever..."

"No, Sam and I were just classmates," Kerry assured her.  "If you're
interested, by all means, go for it."

Randi's heart gave a happy little flutter, but then she felt bad for Kerry.
"Thanks, but I wouldn't want to leave you out on your own.  We can still go
out to pick up girls tonight, if you still want--"

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that," Kerry said, as they walked across the
lobby, "and I think I'll pass."

"Why?  Because of what happened last night?"

"No, of course not.  I just don't think it's best to go out looking for a
night of passion just before I have to make a big presentation in the
morning, do you?"

"Well...we could get an earlier start, this time, and maybe..."

"Oh hell, that'd just make it worse, if we had a timetable," Kerry said
quietly, rubbing her forehead.  "I can't see that working: 'Excuse me,
ma'am, I'd like to wine you, dine you, and maybe sixty-nine you, but I'm
kind of pressed for time...'  I don't think that would go over well, do
you?"

Randi couldn't even picture Kerry speaking so bluntly to a potential date.
"No, I guess not," she admitted.

"I do appreciate the advice you've given me," Kerry said.  "Perhaps I'll
give it a try sometime, back home."

"Okay, but you realize you're missing out on a perfect opportunity," Randi
said.  "I can't be the same kind of lucky charm for you the way I can here."

"I'll risk it," Kerry said with a resigned smile.  "I've never believed in
luck.  And, to be honest, I wasn't really very comfortable being promised
sex with an as-yet-undetermined partner.  It just doesn't seem right."

Randi just shrugged.  To each their own, she supposed, but she was
definitely disappointed.

"I mean, if I had met someone really special, that would be one thing,"
Kerry went on, "but--"

They paused at the sound of someone calling Kerry's name.  Randi turned to
see a strikingly handsome black woman of about fifty approaching, her
cornrowed hair gathered into a bouquet of thin braids down her back.  She
wore a rich blue skirt and jacket, with matching shoes and a silk blouse,
and she looked impressive and professional, yet warm and inviting at the
same time.  As she neared the two women, her face was bright and welcoming.
"Kerry, do you have a moment?"

Kerry turned back to her with distinctly obvious pleasure.  "Odona, of
course," she said.  "Randi, this is--"

"Odona St. James!" Randi burst out, recognizing her immediately.  Her book,
discussing the philosophies of modern medical care, had been on the
bestseller list for a few weeks, late last year.  She'd been on Oprah and
Conan O'Brian and 'Good Morning, America'.  Randi suddenly felt like she was
meeting a movie star.  "Wow, I didn't know you'd be at the convention!"

"And this is my assistant, Randi Fronczak," Kerry added.

St. James' smile, and her handshake, were among the warmest Randi had ever
felt.  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Randi," she said.  "Are you a doctor,
too?  Or a nurse?"

"No," she answered, feeling flattered.  "I'm just a clerk..."

"I don't think a clerk is 'just' anything," St. James told her.   "Anyone
who's put in time in an emergency room knows a good clerk is as crucial as
anybody with a medical degree."

"Well, Randi's a very good one," Kerry said, looking as proud as Randi felt.

"I believe that, or you wouldn't have her as your assistant."  The casual
praise was almost enough to make both women blush in unison.  Turning to
take Kerry's free hand in both of hers, St. James said, "Kerry, I wanted to
say that you raised some excellent points during the discussion.  I was glad
you took part in it."

"Oh, please," said Kerry, looking almost shy.  "It was a wonderful
opportunity..."

Randi looked at her carefully.  The normally sedate Kerry Weaver was
practically beaming.  Randi hadn't seen her react anything like this since
the beginnings of her friendship with...

Hmmmm...

"I was hoping I'd have a chance to discuss some of your thoughts with you at
greater length, one on one.  Perhaps if you have some time later...?"   There
was a hopeful look on St. James' face.

"Yes, of course," Kerry was quick to reply.  "I'd love that."

"Wonderful."  St. James' eyes seemed to grow even softer.  "I'll wait to
hear from you.  Randi, it was good to meet you," she added.  "I'm glad Kerry
has a friend with her."  With a final smile that encompassed both women, she
excused herself and strolled away.

Kerry gazed fondly after her, a fact that was hardly lost on Randi.

"She seems pretty cool," the clerk remarked offhandedly, pressing the
elevator button.

"Oh, she's a wonderful speaker," Kerry enthused.  "I loved her book, but I
was a little concerned that her panel would just be a rehash of the same
material.  I needn't have worried, though; she found new ways to discuss the
same subjects without repeating herself much."

"Oh yeah...?"

"She writes and talks about how the feminine, or nurturing qualities of
medicine have been supplanted by an excessive emphasis on the aggressive,
masculine approach, assaulting the patient with surgical, technological, or
pharmaceutical quick-fixes, in order to dismiss the problem rather than
committing to an understanding of it," Kerry rambled happily.  "As much as I
agreed with her in principle, I was prepared to argue that that same
aggressive, direct approach, while not always ideal, is entirely essential
at the level of emergency medicine.  There's rarely time for nurturing when
some poor bastard is crashing."

"Sure."  Randi had to smile as they boarded the elevator.  She'd rarely seen
Kerry this happy before.

"But I must have misconstrued her position, because she agreed with me
completely!  Can you believe it?  Odona wasn't trying to advocate replacing
the masculine model with the feminine, outright, but to find ways to
symbiose the two in some integrated, almost yin/yang kind of..."  She
trailed off.  "What are you smiling about?"

Randi leaned against the handrail as the elevator ascended smoothly.  "You
like her, don't you?"

The question seemed to take Kerry by surprise.  "Well, sure.  She's an
amazing woman.  She earned both an MD and a PhD, while raising two children
on her own.  She's intelligent, insightful, charismatic...beautiful...what's
not to like?"

"No," Randi said.  "I mean you LIKE her.  Don't you?"

Kerry just looked at her, lips parted, but no words coming out.

"Don't look now, Doc," Randi purred, "but you just met someone really
special."

Kerry stared at her, then looked away.  "Randi, you're imagining things."

"Oh yeah?  A lot of people came out of the same room.  I didn't see her
chasing after any of them, hoping to talk to them 'one on one'."  She took
Kerry's hand in both of hers, exactly as St. James had done.  "Or looking at
them the way she looked at you."

"Randi, come on..."  Kerry pulled her hand free.

"You said she has kids, but I didn't see a wedding ring.  Is she seeing
anyone?"

"I don't know!"  Kerry shrugged.  "We didn't exactly discuss her personal
life!"

"Then how do you know she's not interested?"

Kerry laughed shortly, as if the whole thing was silly.  "Randi..."

The clerk looked pointedly into her eyes.  "If she was...would you be
interested?"

Kerry looked back at her and didn't speak.  But her face told the real
story.

Randi grinned happily and patted Kerry on the back.  "You see, Dr. Weaver?
I met Sam, you met Dr. St. James...I told you, you put me near the Pacific
Ocean, and the magic just happens."

The redhead dropped her gaze and groaned skeptically.  But Randi could see
she was smiling.

"Stick with me, Doc," she confided, her voice a low, sexy growl, "and your
little clit will have adventures worth writing home about."

"Oh, GOD, Randi...!"  Kerry's tone was gruff, but the involuntary smile
nearly split her cheeks open.  The elevator door opened.

Randi let the matter drop as they walked to their hotel room and Kerry
unlocked the door.  Maid service had remade the beds, straightened the room
and restocked the mini-bar, though Randi had begun to think maybe they
should both take it easy on the booze.  What caught both their eyes,
however, was the light blinking on the telephone, indicating a waiting
message.

"Five bucks it's either him for me, or her for you," Randi said.   "Which do
you bet?"

Kerry ignored her and dialed the Play Message code.  Then her face
registered something completely unexpected.  "Neither of the above," she
said, holding the receiver out to Randi.

She took it, waited while Kerry tapped the replay code, and listened.  It
was an invitation to dinner, all right, but not from either Odona St. James
or Sam Bardwell.  Someone very different.

"Oh, man!" Randi squealed as she hung up the phone.  "Are we going?   Call
her back, we gotta go!  You wanna go?!"

"Randi..."  Kerry's face wasn't as happy as Randi would have expected at the
sound of a former colleague's voice.  "I don't know... Of course I'd like to
see her again, but the last time we talked...her last day at County, we had
some stupid argument over a patient..."

"Jesus, are you still carrying that around in your head?!  Dr. Weaver, she
doesn't care about that!  Did you hear her voice?  C'mon, she wants to see
us!"  Randi nearly screeched in frustration; as much as some part of her
secretly loved the feisty, driven ER Chief, there were other, not-so-secret
parts that often wanted to take that crutch away and beat her to death with
it.  "We can't just not go see her, Dr. Weaver, we've gotta go.   Please...?"

Kerry bit her lip.


*  *  *


(Wednesday evening...)

The door opened almost as soon as Randi knocked, and she was engulfed in
Carol's hug a moment later.  "Oh God, it's so good to see you!" she almost
sang, kissing the nurse's cheek.

"You, too, Randi," Carol said, her lovely face one big smile.  Letting go of
Randi, she turned the same attention upon the Chief, who was hanging back a
step.  "And Kerry...!"

From the look on her face, Kerry honestly half-expected Carol to punch her
instead of hug her, up to the moment she was in the nurse's embrace.  Then
she softened, patting her back and looking like she wished she could allow
herself a more heartfelt show of affection.  "Hi, Carol," she said.

"Doug told me about seeing you both, and I was hoping you'd have time to
come by," Carol said, inviting them both inside.  "It seems like forever
since I saw you two!"

The Ross family's lakeside condo didn't look quite as spacious as Carol's
old house in Chicago, but much newer and more structurally sound.  Randi
remembered dancing at a Christmas party thrown at Carol's house, only a
plastic tarp keeping the snow coming in through the hole in the roof.  That
didn't seem to be a problem here.  Doug and Carol didn't appear to be
getting rich, but they were clearly doing okay.

"Kate, Tess," Carol said, kneeling by the two girls playing in the corner of
the living room, "do you want to come meet Mommy's friends?"

There was a difference of opinion on that.  One really didn't, but the
other's curiosity won out.  Carol assured the reluctant one that the new
grownups were really nice people, but when that didn't work, she said it was
okay, she understood, and that she didn't have to say hello if she didn't
want to.  Picking up the bolder child, Carol brought her over to meet the
guests.

"Katie, these are friends that Mommy and Daddy used to work with.  This is
Kerry...and this is Randi.  Can you say hi?"

"Hi, Kate," Kerry said in her non-intrusive 'talking-to-little-kids' voice,
adding a very small wave.  Kate said 'hi' back, almost matching her volume.

"Hey, Katie," Randi said with a smile, patting the girl's cheek.   "Wow, you
really got big, you know that?"

"And that's Tess, in the corner," Carol added, setting Kate down.   "She's
the shy one."

"That's okay," Kerry said, just loud enough so that Tess could hear them,
Randi knew, without appearing to address her directly.  "I like being by
myself sometimes, too."

"Doug couldn't join us tonight," Carol told them.  "He got stuck with a
replacement shift, on top of the conference."

"Oh, that's too bad," Kerry said, but Randi wondered if she was really all
that disappointed not to have to spend the evening making nice with Doug
Ross.  Personally, Randi suspected that Doug had arranged things
specifically so that he could avoid Kerry.  The thought annoyed Randi.

Something dinged in the kitchen, and Carol went to check on dinner.  Kerry
followed her, asking if she could help with anything, and Randi sat down on
the floor next to Kate.  The girl was holding up a couple of stuffed animals
for Randi's approval; Randi asked what their names were, and Kate told her,
already completely comfortable with her new friend.  Randi glanced at Tess,
but she was still in the other corner, a fat crayon in her hands, paying as
little attention to the other people as possible.

Whatever reservations Kate might have had around visitors were gone by the
time Carol and Kerry reappeared, and she seemed determined to monopolize
Randi's attention, showing off her repertoire of pattycake games and songs,
which Randi endured first with enjoyment, then with good grace and patience.
Finally, when she appeared to be approaching the transition from hyperactive
to cranky, Carol intervened and talked Kate into having a snack and calming
down a little.  Randi appreciated her timing; she liked kids, but didn't
have the stamina for them.

Eschewing the formality of the dinner table (Carol still had to keep an eye
on both girls), they ate in the living room, plates of casserole balanced on
laps or the coffee table.  No one minded; meals consumed at odd hours, in
odd places, during precious moments of ER inactivity, were a common
experience to all three women.  Carol talked about her life since joining
Doug in Seattle, and the ups and downs of being a wife and mother in a new
city.  The latter were more numerous, but the former, she said, outweighed
them any day.

"You still working?" Randi asked her.

"Part time," Carol said.  "I only pull a few shifts a week, but I also
handle a lot of nurse management paperwork and stuff.  Most of it, I can do
from home, and they were eager to hire someone with my experience.  I'm
trying to open another clinic, although I'll definitely get someone else to
run it.  These two need my time more than the hospital does."

"If anyone can do it, Carol, you can," Kerry told her.

"Thank you, Kerry."  Carol smiled.  Like Doug, she looked like life in
Seattle had been good for her.  The lustrous black hair had just the
slightest hint of gray in it, and there were maybe a few smile lines around
the eyes that Randi didn't recall, but she looked good.  She looked like
she'd settled into her life, good parts and bad, and decided to stay.  Even
the slightly tired air around her had a pleasantness to it.  Carol looked
happy.  "So how about you two?  What's life at County been like since I
left?"

Randi let Kerry give her answers first, and Kerry talked about the overall
shape of things, mostly in terms of economics and operations.  She told of
clashes with Romano, some of the troubles Mark and Elizabeth had gone
through, and a few of the comings and goings in the staff.  Randi thought it
was a pretty sanitized account, typical of Kerry Weaver, but not really what
Carol wanted to hear.  The nurse, however, listened politely and patiently.

Most notably, Randi noticed that Kerry made no mention of Kim Legaspi, or of
her own personal discoveries from the last year.  Randi found that rather
sad; if there was anyone who could listen and understand, Carol Hathaway -
actually, make that Carol Ross, she reminded herself - would be the one.
But it was Kerry's choice, and Randi had to respect that.

When it looked like Kerry was almost out of things to talk about, however,
Randi stepped in, unloading all the real dish.  She told Carol about the
people that Chuny, Malik, and Yosh were currently seeing, and what the
prospects for those relationships were; she mentioned that Chen and Malucci
were gone (though she didn't discuss details), and that Susan Lewis had
returned unexpectedly.  She told what she knew about the death of Reese
Benton's mother, and about Peter's fight for custody, and she mentioned Luka
Kovac's relationship with Abby Lockhart; the latter subject brought a
bittersweet look to Carol's face.

Kerry didn't interrupt, except briefly, when Randi started to mention
Carter's difficulties; she was hesitant to divulge anyone's personal
problems.  Carol's interest was piqued, her concern evident; "Dr. Weaver,
she's got a right to know," Randi argued.  "She's like family."   Kerry
agreed, despite her misgivings, and Randi proceeded to tell Carol about
Carter's addiction.

"Oh God," Carol moaned.  "Poor Carter.  I knew he was having trouble after
the attack, but..."

"I know," Randi said.  "It was tough for all of us to discover how bad
things were for him."  She talked about his stay at the facility in Atlanta,
and how well he had done since his return.  Kerry chimed in a few details
about the administration's position, and emphasized that Carter was doing
well.

Randi and Carol compared notes, the nurse asking about some other people
she'd known, and Randi supplying news as best she could.  Kerry stayed
quiet, and after a while, Randi noticed why.  Tess, the silent twin, had
ventured out of her corner during the conversation, eyeing the redheaded
woman with the strange metal arm that acted like a third leg.  Sitting in
front of the sofa, by Kerry's feet, she fingered the crutch with some
curiosity, and Kerry held very still, not wanting to scare her off.  Tess
looked at it, and then up at Kerry, who was watching her sort of sidelong,
feigning an equal shyness that succeeded in setting the child at ease.
Then, apparently deciding that Kerry was okay, she settled herself at the
Chief's feet and resumed dragging her orange crayon over the pages of a
coloring book without regard to the lines.

Randi and Carol kept up the conversation, as a kind of verbal duck blind,
but both were really watching Kerry and Tess discreetly.  Enjoying the
wordless encounter, but not wanting to disrupt it.

Kerry finally ventured to reach down and stroke the child's hair softly.  "I
remember you, sweetie," she whispered.  "I was the first one to ever hold
you..."  Tess paid little or no attention, seeming to accept Kerry's
presence as a given.

The moment was broken as Kerry realized that Carol and Randi were watching
her, their own talk forgotten.

"She wouldn't remember, of course," Kerry said, sitting up straighter and
looking self-conscious, like she'd been caught playing with toys when she
was supposed to be doing paperwork.

"Well, I remember," Carol said with a smile.  "You're good with kids, Kerry.
Even Doug thought so."

"Yes, he, uh...he told me so, once."  Kerry looked uncomfortable with the
spotlight on her.

"Have you ever thought about having children of your own, Kerry?" Carol
asked her.  "I always thought you'd make a really good mother someday."

Kerry looked away.  "Oh...I don't know about that..."

"You should think about it," Carol urged her.  "I don't know what your plans
are, or if you're seeing anybody, but it's something worth considering.
Kids can be a handful, but you'll be amazed how much love they--"

Kerry looked at her watch, and stood suddenly.  "You know, I think we should
go," she said.

"Huh?"  Randi looked at her in surprise.  Tess looked up, too.

"You remember, we have that...we said we'd meet those people?"  It was the
most painfully obvious lie Randi had ever heard.

Carol's face clouded.  "Kerry, did I say something to upset you?" she asked.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

"No, no, of course not," Kerry said briskly, reaching for her coat.   "We're
just going to be late.  Randi, we need to get moving."

Randi looked at Carol, her confusion mirroring the nurses.  "Right, okay,"
she said out loud.  She didn't know what was upsetting Kerry any more than
Carol did, but she felt the obligation to back up her boss until she could
figure things out.  "Thanks for dinner, it was great," she said, truthfully.

"Sure, I was glad to see you both," Carol replied, still taken aback by
Kerry's abrupt manner.

Kerry said a curt goodbye and hustled outside.  Randi felt embarrassed to be
in the company of such rudeness, but she stopped herself from reacting to
it.  Yet.

Giving Carol another warm hug, and promising to call her, Randi followed her
Chief out to the car and got in, and Kerry drove away.  Randi's last view,
looking back, was of Carol waving goodbye from the doorway with Tess in her
arms.  Both looked confused, and a little hurt.

Kerry didn't look back once.