TITLE: HOTEL, part VII
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 Seven...

(Thursday morning...)

Kerry's presentation went great.

She opened with the story of the Fabulous Glue Brothers, who had crashed
their carpet business van, sticking themselves together and making it almost
impossible to locate the younger brother's impalement injury.  The story got
a laugh when Kerry first described the situation, and challenged the
audience when Kerry asked them what they would do in a situation like that.
"Pop quiz, ladies and gentlemen.  What do you do?" she asked in a fair Keanu
Reeves impression.

The other doctors asked a couple of questions, and ventured some ideas, and
batted it around for a bit, before Kerry told them how the problem had been
solved, adding with some satisfaction that there were no casualties of the
trauma.  "Except Carter's beard," Randi muttered.

Kerry's speech went over just fine after that, and the discussions raised
for the rest of the period were lively and informative for everyone.  Ideas
were exchanged, questions asked, notes taken, and the time seemed to fly by.
When the hour was up, it almost felt too soon.  The doctors gave Kerry a
round of appreciative applause, and most of them lingered to shake her hand
or exchange a few friendly words before they left.

Finally, Kerry and Randi were alone.  "Good show, Dr. Weaver," Randi said,
facing her boss solemnly.

She received a Vulcan nod.  "Most grateful for your assistance, Ms.
Fronczak," Kerry replied, stonefaced.

Then she raised her palm, and Randi high-fived it happily, as they both
broke into huge grins.

"So...?" Randi asked her, eyebrow raised.

Kerry looked puzzled.  "So...what?"

"So, we had a deal, right?  It went great."  She put on her evil grin again.
"So, I'm in charge of getting you dolled up for tonight.  Right?"

A truly put-upon look settled over Kerry's face.  "I am a woman of my word,"
she sighed.  "I'm all yours."  She turned away to gather her notes.   "Just
remember, no spandex, no lycra, and no leather.  I don't want to look like
I'm going to a rave."

"Trust me, Doc.  My fashion sense, and your budget...you're gonna look
fabulous!"

Kerry's back was turned, but Randi could see her make the sign of the cross
on herself.


*  *  *


(Thursday afternoon...)

The bulk of their day was spent out on the town, visiting Seattle's upscale
shops and boutiques, consulting various salespeople and suggesting assorted
outfits for Kerry's approval.  It quickly became apparent to Randi that,
while Kerry dressed pretty well in general (that green turtleneck not
withstanding), she hated shopping for clothes.  Especially fancy clothes.

Randi, for her part, rarely had the money to shop anywhere as classy or
expensive as these shops, but with Kerry paying, she could give her keen eye
for style free reign.  Choosing the right look for Kerry was an interesting
challenge: she needed something that would present her as a beautiful,
desirable woman, but still retain the kind of dignity that she valued.

Above all, as Kerry nixed one formal gown after another, Randi began to
realize she didn't want anything that showed off her legs.  Kerry didn't say
anything about it, but Randi quickly picked up on that particular area of
sensitivity.  All right, she'd just modify her basic concept a little.  No
microskirts, no bicycle shorts...

By two-thirty in the afternoon, they'd found it.  A look that would meet
both Kerry's approval and Randi's, presenting her as an intelligent, mature
woman, while showing off how good she looked.  After a long consideration,
and with some measure of internal debate, Kerry finally smiled and gave a
nod of approval.  "Wrap it up," Randi told the lead saleswoman.   "We'll take
it!"

They stopped for a late lunch at a Thai place, dining by the window and
watching the rain fluctuate.

"It always feels weird," Kerry said at one point.  "Going this long without
seeing a single patient."

"How d'you suppose they're doing without us, back home?"

"Luka's probably going crazy handling things as Temp Chief," Kerry said.   "I
don't even want to think of what Frank's doing to your files."

"Forget them for a while.  You're on vacation."  She smiled.   "I know, it's
not a real vacation, but we've still had a good time together, haven't we?"

Kerry glanced at her, a faint smile her only reply.

"And the best is yet to come," Randi added in a suggestive murmur.   "So to
speak."

Kerry dropped her gaze to her plate, the smile growing.  Randi knew it was
Kerry's nature to be reserved, but she could tell that the Chief was looking
forward to a magical night spent with Odona St. James as much as Randi was
to sleeping with Sam Bardwell.  It still thrilled her to think that the two
of them could enjoy that kind of experience at the same time.

"It's also odd seeing you like this," Kerry added.  "Usually, you're rather
sullen and cynical."

"That's 'cause you only ever see me at work, Dr. Weaver.  Eight hours of
sick people and paperwork doesn't bring out most people's sunny side."

"That's true," Kerry admitted.

They passed the rest of the meal in silence, enjoying the quiet.  The steady
hush of the rain mixed with the vaguely Asian music played over the
restaurant speakers.

After Kerry had waved for the check, she asked, "So, Randi...what are you
going to wear?"

Randi looked hopefully at her.  "Well, I brought some stuff in my bag, but
there's nothing really great..."

"Well," Kerry sighed, "I can't have my assistant looking shabby next to me,
I guess.  All right, it's your turn; we'll have to get something for you,
too."

Barely holding in a delighted squeal, Randi grinned widely, about to jump up
and hug her again...

"Don't hug me," Kerry cut in, reading her mind.

"Yes, ma'am."


*  *  *


(Thursday evening...)

Randi's outfit was chosen quickly enough; Kerry gave her carte blanche to
choose her own look, and Randi chose something she liked, but which didn't
cost much.  She didn't want to take too much advantage of Kerry's
generosity.

With a few hours still left to pass before the conference's closing remarks,
Randi and Kerry treated themselves to manicures, pedicures, and facials,
plus a trip to a hair stylist; decadent luxuries for both of them, one for
budgetary reasons, the other...well, it just wasn't Kerry's style.

By the time the last of the medical panels was over, Kerry and Randi were
back in their hotel room, donning their new outfits and making ready for the
big party.  At one point, Randi could have sworn she heard Kerry humming
"Toniiight, tonight..." from 'West Side Story'.  Nah, probably her
imagination.

Randi gave the hem of her dress a final tug, bringing it down to mid-thigh,
and ran her hands down her sides, smoothing it out.  Then, giving herself a
final, approving wink in the bathroom mirror, she opened the door and
stepped out.  "Good to go, Chief," she stated.

Kerry glanced at her, then gave herself a last once-over in the dresser
mirror and turned to face Randi.  They looked at each other.

For Kerry, Randi had picked out a sky-blue, floor-length gown that wrapped
around her body, gathering as it wound upwards, looped over one shoulder and
secured with a matching sash.  Her left arm remained bare, while the right
one was enshrouded in a sort of draped, semitransparent half-cloak, fastened
at her wrist and opposite shoulder.  The tips of her shoes were just barely
visible beneath the gown's hem, and an optional wrap for cold weather
completed the ensemble.  Kerry had set her crutch aside for the evening,
leaning instead on a cane that the boutique had thrown in.  The overall look
was elegant and dignified, yet lovely, almost like a Greek Goddess on Mount
Olympus; the eye was drawn upwards, away from her legs or her cane arm, and
she looked regal and festive at the same time.  This is a beautiful woman,
the look said, but one to be taken seriously.

"You look great," Randi told her, meaning it completely.

"Thank you," Kerry said, smoothing her hair back above her forehead.  The
stylist had swept it back on the sides, emphasizing her cheekbones and eyes,
and the color was restored to its full redness, the burnished copper sheen
going well with the blue gown.  "You look pretty good, too."

"Aw, you're only saying that 'cause it's true," Randi said with a cheeky
grin.  For her own outfit, she'd gone simpler, but certainly not more
modest.  She wore a long-sleeved sheath of a dress that covered her from
scoop neck to mid-thigh.  It was deep purple on the sides and sleeves,
vertical stripes fading in various shades of red to the fiery orange blaze
down the center of her body.  The thing was tight enough - and thin enough -
to fit her like skin; the striped pattern prevented an onlooker from seeing
her nipples outlined, unless she stood in profile.

Randi planned to stand in profile a lot.

"You ready?" she asked, as she slipped into the open-toed stiletto heels.

"I think so," Kerry said.  "Except this gown doesn't have any pockets.   I
don't know how I'm going to carry my room key."

"You try tucking it in the sash?"

"Yes, but it won't stay; it keeps slipping out."

Randi hadn't considered this.  Her outfit didn't allow for personal items,
either.  "Here, I've got it," she said, taking both their key cards and
slipping them into her sleeves.  The sleeves were tight enough to hold the
cards snugly against her forearms.  "I'm betting you won't need your key
tonight, but if you do, just ask me."

"Okay..."

They stood in front of the dresser mirror, side by side, getting a final
look at themselves.  Randi put an arm around Kerry's shoulders.  "This is
gonna be a night to remember, you know that?"

"I'm sure it will," Kerry said.  Then, glancing at Randi's hip, she added,
"Randi, if you don't mind my asking, how can you wear something that tight
and not show any panty line?"

The clerk just smiled, counting the seconds until Kerry figured it out.
Two, three, four...

"Never mind, I take back the question," Kerry added hastily.   "Obvious, now
that I think about it."

Randi patted her back, gave her a quick peck on the cheek for luck, and
opened the door.

"I feel like a kid going trick-or-treating," Kerry muttered as they walked
to the elevator, but Randi caught the smile in her voice.

"You're not far off, when you think about it," she said, pressing the
button.  The doors opened immediately, and they got on.  The elevator
descended smoothly.  "Nervous?"

Kerry nodded.  "Mmm-hmm.  But it's a good nervous."

"That's my Chief."  Despite being a decade younger than Kerry, Randi found
herself feeling the kind of pride that a teacher feels in a student.
Putting her arm about Kerry's shoulders again, she leaned her face close to
Kerry's and whispered in her ear.  "I want you to promise me something."

"What?"

"Just promise me," Randi said, "that if you sense anything happening
tonight...with Odona, with someone else, whoever.  If you feel it happening,
and it's something you want, promise me you won't censor yourself.  Don't
fight it.  Just let it happen, and enjoy it.  All right?"

Kerry gave a tiny nod.  "I'll try."

Randi glanced at the floor indicator.  "Good," she said.   "Because it's time
for our grand entrance."

The elevator came to a stop with a 'ding'.


*  *  *


Closing remarks lasted about forty-five minutes, and Randi suspected that
the applause Dr. Royce received was mostly of the 'Thank God he's finished'
variety.  Hordes of well-dressed physicians and their assistants adjourned
to the ballroom.

Odona St. James found them quickly enough, wearing a richly textured
dashiki, and kissed both women in greeting.  "Aren't you two a sight," she
sighed.  "Been out shopping, I see?"

Randi pushed out her lower lip like a pugnacious little kid.  "I didn't
wanna, but she made me," she pouted.

"Don't listen to her," Kerry told Odona.  "She's the one responsible for my
ensemble."

"Then well-done, young woman!"  Odona smiled.  "Kerry's very fortunate to
have someone take such good care of her."

"Ahh, you should see how she takes care of us, back in Chicago," Randi
countered.

"Hello, I'm right here," Kerry said, clearly uncomfortable with such overt
appreciation.

"And so you are," Odona replied easily.  "Shall we explore the buffet?"

"You two go ahead," Randi said, eager to give her Chief some time alone with
Odona.  "I'm gonna mingle."

"Okay, Randi."  Kerry accepted Odona's arm through hers, and they walked
toward the buffet tables.

Odona glanced back at Randi and stage-whispered, "He's over there," with a
knowing smile.

Sure enough, Sam Bardwell was by the bar, engaging Doug Ross in conversation
about something or other.  Both men wore good suits and ties, but Doug
looked a trifle ill at ease in his, whereas Sam wore his like he was born in
it.  Randi paused, framing the two men in her mind and writing a little
impromptu slash scene featuring both guys, just for the hell of it.  Then,
filing that scenario away in her mind for later consideration, she slipped
into her sexiest stride toward them, making the most of the stiletto heels
and their effect on her gait.

She wanted to slip up behind Sam and goose him in the butt to get his
attention, but Doug's eyes fell on her first, and Sam noticed, turning to
see her approaching.  Aww, another opportunity lost.  Oh well...   "This a
boys-only corner, or can I join in?" she said.

"What fun is a boys' corner without a pretty girl or two?" Sam replied, his
smile washing through her like a deep-tissue massage.

"Hey, Randi," Doug greeted her.  "You two know each other?"

"Yeah, we've met," Sam said.

"And we'll know each other a lot better before long," Randi said, hoping to
shock Doug into blushing.  No dice.  "So what are we talking about?"

"Oh, the usual stuff," Doug said.  "Cars, sports, girls..."

"I've been trying to get Doug interested in a partnership," Sam put in.   "I
keep telling him, come over to Boston, get away from all this rain."

"Yeah, and I keep saying Carol and I like it here."  Doug's tone, carefully
casual, would go unnoticed by most people, but Randi knew him too well.  His
patience with Sam was running out.

"Well, Doug, I hope you don't mind if I steal Sam for a while?"

"He's all yours," Doug said.  Randi noticed that he didn't have a drink in
his hand, unlike Sam.

"C'mon, handsome," Randi said, tugging on Sam's arm.  "Let's cut a rug."

"Hey, Randi, before you do," Doug added, "Carol mentioned that Kerry looked
upset last night.  Anything wrong?"

Maybe if you'd had the guts to come home for dinner with her, you'd know,
Randi thought uncharitably, recalling Doug's convenient absence.  "Yeah,
everything's fine," she said.  "I'm sorry about that.  I'll call Carol and
talk to her, if you want."

"Okay," Doug said.  "Anyway, don't let me keep you.  Seeya, Sam."

"Doug."  Sam knuckled Doug's arm in brotherly fashion, which Doug didn't
seem to appreciate.

Randi drew her partner out to the small dance floor, drawing his arms around
her as they moved to the slow jazz standards.  She enjoyed the feeling of
being in his embrace, his body against hers.

As they slowly turned to the music, she swept her eyes around the room,
scanning idly over the motley assemblage of doctors, all ages, shapes, sizes
and colors, mixing and interfacing with each other.  Some were talking
business, others trading jokes, others just making idle chatter...and a few
obviously pairing off for the night.  She could tell which were which, by
their body language.

"Looking for anyone specific?" Sam said to her.  "Or just looking?"

"Just curious," she replied, absently.  Then her eyes fell on Kerry and
Odona, small plates in their hands almost forgotten.  Odona had half-turned
to acknowledge a greeting from a tall man, but she dismissed him as quickly
as was politic, and turned her full attention back to Kerry.  They looked
like they were enjoying each other's company a great deal.

"Looks like they're hitting it off," Sam remarked.

Randi looked at him.  "Yeah, they are," she replied neutrally, wondering if
Sam realized the nature of the two women's attraction to each other.  She
didn't care what he thought, but if he started spreading word that Kerry was
gay, and someone at County got word, Kerry might be 'outed' before she was
ready.  "They've got a lot in common," she said, dismissively.

"I bet," he said.  "You seem to be pretty interested in them.   Got your eye
on one or the other?"

She slipped her arms around his neck.  "The only one I've got my eye on
tonight," she said, "is you."

"Just checking."  He grinned.

Hoping to divert his attention from Kerry, Randi ran an appreciative
fingertip down his chin.  "Smooth," she said.  "I like a close shave."

"Me, too," he murmured.  "I noticed you shaved your legs pretty recently."

She looked straight into his eyes.  "Among other things."

His eyes widened.

"Yup," she confirmed his thinking.  "I'm...feeling an extra draft, shall we
say."

"I like that in a woman," Sam whispered.

She just smiled.  A lot of men did, she'd found.  Some women, too.  Still,
if it hadn't been a special occasion...

"So, should we maybe give some thought to how our evening will turn out?"

"Sure," she said with a smile.  "Tell you what: how about we both think up
our best-case scenarios, and see if they overlap?"

"Okay."  He closed his eyes and made a show of concentrating.   "Got mine.
You?"

"Uh-huh.  You go first."

Opening his eyes, Sam gazed deeply into hers.  "I'm thinking...we dance a
little more, maybe as long as the slow numbers last, maybe less than that.
Then we go up to my room, have a drink or two...and then I slide this off of
you, very slowly...and make slow, sweet love to you all night long, over and
over again."

Randi felt the heat creep all the way up her chest and neck to her hairline,
imagining steam blowing out of her ears like in the cartoons.
"That's...pretty good," she gasped.  "Better than what I came up with."

"What was yours?"

"Well...I started with the phrase 'fuck my brains out,' but I kind of
stalled there."

"Hey, if you've gotta get stuck, that's the place to do it," Sam smirked.

She smiled back at him, moving silently against him.  As the old tune
reached its end, she felt the impulse deep within herself.  Now, it said.
No more waiting.  Now.

"I think we've danced enough," she whispered.  "Let's go."

He slowly released her, one arm still about her waist.  "Right this way,
darlin'."

They were almost out the door before Randi heard Kerry calling her name.
"Randi, wait..."

She turned to find Kerry hobbling up beside her.  "Dr. Weaver...?"

"I need my key," Kerry said tersely.  "The room key."

"Yeah, sure."  Randi slipped one of the cards out of her sleeves and handed
it to Kerry, who snatched it away impatiently and turned to leave.  Randi
looked back at Odona, still on the opposite side of the room, watching them
in confusion.  "Dr. Weaver, is everything okay?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Randi," Kerry shot back, her voice tight.
She didn't break stride, but headed across the lobby as fast as possible.

"But...what happened?  Did Odona say something?"  Randi followed her closely
to the elevators.  "I thought you and she..."

"I don't want to hear what you thought, Randi, it's none of your business!"
The words were bitten out as harshly as the commands she barked in Trauma
Rooms.  "Just go back and fuck Sam Bardwell, or whatever you want to do."

The elevator doors closed between them.  Randi stood by herself, shocked and
hurt.

Sam approached her.  "Hey, what's...?"

She ignored him, striding purposefully back to the ballroom, pushing through
the small knots of doctors until she reached Odona's side.  "Hey," she
snapped.  "What the hell did you say to her?  What did you do?"

Odona looked at her.  "I don't exactly know."

"I want to know what you said to her, goddammit!"  Randi stepped closer.

Odona's gaze met hers squarely.  "That's between Kerry and myself, young
lady," she said coolly.

Randi's fist started to come up, and she felt a strong hand grab her arm.
"Whoa, whoa there, spitfire," Sam soothed her, holding her arm back.   "Let's
not go making a scene here, okay?"

The older woman held Randi's look, not showing an ounce of fear.  "Randi, I
know you're concerned about Kerry, but I don't have answers for you.  I
don't know what made her run away like that."

She shook her arm free of Sam's grip and let it drop, showing she'd got her
temper under control.  "And you just let her go, for chrissakes?"

"It was her choice," Odona said.  "I don't have the right to make her stay
if she doesn't want to."

"Are you kidding me?  Do you know how much she wanted to be with you?!"
Randi turned back toward the doorway.  "I'm gonna go talk to her."

This time it was Odona who seized her arm.  "Wait," she said.   "Randi, for
whatever reason, she's clearly made up her mind, and you should respect
that.  If you really want to help Kerry, you should let her go."

"She's right, Randi," Sam said.  "Look, Kerry Weaver's a big girl.   She can
take care of herself, okay?"

Randi looked at Odona, confused and upset, but felt herself yielding to the
insightful woman's words.  She slumped her shoulders, and Odona released
her.

"Maybe she just wasn't ready," Odona said, her voice shaded with regret.

"Yeah," Randi sighed reluctantly.  "Maybe I've wasted my time after all."

"Come on," Sam gently urged her.  "Let's just go."

She nodded.  Okay, she thought.  If Kerry doesn't want to take this
opportunity I've set up for her, then fine.  Fuck it, and fuck her.  You
hear me, Kerry?  Fuck you, if you can't find the guts to take a good thing
when it's given to you.  I'm through, you're on your own, and I don't
fucking give a shit; I'm gonna go get laid.

Grabbing Sam's hand, she marched out of the ballroom, returning again to the
elevators.  "Yeah," she repeated.  "Let's go."