TITLE: Yes, Sir, That's My Baby!, part 1/2
AUTHOR: Ellen Hursh
RATING:  PG-13/R
KEYWORDS:  KW/LKo romance; sexual situations; language; miscellaneous
angst; satirical fun; blah blah blah fishcakes
LAST EPISODE SEEN:  "Rampage"
TIMELINE:  Around "The Greatest of Gifts"
CROATIAN:  "U New Jerseyu" = "in New Jersey"; "Ti si lijepa" = "you are
beautiful"; "Ne plache" = "don't cry"
ARCHIVE: If you must.
DISCLAIMER: ER and all its characters belong to Warner Bros.  No
infringement of their copyright is intended.  This story was written for
the enjoyment of "ER" fans everywhere, and may be downloaded for your
own pleasure.
SYNOPSIS/SPOILERS:  Chen gets all Disney-phobic, a weary Carter gets all
Trainspotting, Luka and Kerry get all literary... and a longstanding
question from the readers gets answered at last. Spoilers for "The
Greatest of Gifts" (by now, do I *really* need to add "...sorta"? :-).
PREVIOUS INSTALLMENTS:  Home and Dry; And Miles to Go Before I Sleep;
Through the Hourglass; Jupiter Aligns with Mars; Shopworn; Come As You
Aren't; Out and About; Up in the Air; Serpent's Tooth; Thanks a Lot!;
Shall We Dance?
AUTHOR'S NOTES:  Thanks to Patricia Klein for "Don Cartman" and "Gabby
Lockhead" (in "The Return of the Romance Novel" from April 2000), and
thanks to Miesque and Hollie for suggestions and feedback. Some slang
terms can be found at
http://members.internettrash.com/ktownseuss/slang.txt and
http://members.tripod.com/mara_juarez/slang.htm
PREVIOUSLY, ON MY-ER:  Benton's nephew Jesse was killed, and Jesse's
girlfriend came under attack by Jesse's mother; Jing-Mei Chen, pregnant
from an affair with SuperNurse Frank, made arrangements for her baby's
adoption; Dr Nick Dennison filled in at the ER over the summer... first
during Luka's holiday, then during Mark's.



Yes, sir, that's my baby
No, sir, I don't mean maybe
--Frank Sinatra

Yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today.
--Frank Silver and Irving Cohn



Cleo woke first at the sound of voices downstairs. Damn. She'd regretted
letting Jesse's girlfriend Kynesha stay with her from the start. When
Kynesha had been thrown from a car, after being "jumped" out of her
gang, Cleo had been the one to examine the girl. She and Dave had
conducted the initial neuro exam, then Peter had pushed his way into the
exam room after Debbie had come out and casually mentioned finding blood
in the girl's panties.

The thought of Dave blanching at the sight of Peter, and leaving the
room as quickly as possible, had become funny after the fact, but at the
time it had been alarming to see Peter storming in the way he had. After
the way he'd had the nerve to call Luka judgmental, back in May, it had
been more than a little disturbing to see Peter cajoling and bullying
Kynesha into telling him who'd shot Jesse... the same way Luka had tried
to cajole and bully Gloria into agreeing to a C-section.

It had been his actions that had led up to this... after he'd given the
police the names that Kynesha had given him, she'd denied knowing
anything and then flipped him off as she departed in a cab. Then, as
they went to Jackie's so Peter could pick up some stuff for the next day
before they went to Cleo's house for the night, Kynesha had emerged from
the shadows of Jackie's yard... frantic because she'd seen cops rounding
up members of her old gang, and terrified that she'd be blamed and then
killed.

Peter had quickly bundled Kynesha into the back of his car... Cleo
couldn't help wondering whether he'd been more concerned about the
girl's safety, or about quieting her before anybody in the area became
aware of her presence. (To be sure, Jackie becoming aware of Kynesha's
presence would have been pretty hazardous to her health!) And Kynesha
had been staying at Cleo's house ever since.

She felt like a hypocrite... preaching racial tolerance and equal
opportunities for African-Americans, but feeling uncomfortable actually
having this girl living in her house. Hell, maybe Kynesha just had the
TV turned up too loud, downstairs. Nevertheless... she nudged Peter
awake. "Go downstairs and check," she whispered. "I think there might be
somebody in the house with her."

He groaned - his first thought, upon being awakened, had been that Cleo
wanted to make love - but sighed and got up. Last night had been a
little chilly, so he was wearing sweats; he went downstairs, blinking
and yawning, just as there was a crash and the sound of glass breaking.
Oh, shit. There was a hurried discussion, and then the sound of somebody
sweeping.

"What's going on down here?" Kynesha was sweeping up something in the
corner, as another black girl - of equally robust proportions - stood
nearby, looking at some of the pictures on the wall.

"Tiny broke one of *her*," Kynesha nodded in the direction of the
upstairs, "pictures."

"Sorry," the girl - who Peter assumed was "Tiny", as incongruous as the
nickname was for her - volunteered with a slightly sheepish smile. "She
got some nice stuff here." Tiny wandered over to the piano, and picked
out an aimless little tune on the keys; the only other piano *she'd*
ever seen was the battered old one at school, that was always slightly
out of tune, and the sound on this one was *butta*. "Real nice." Peter
sighed.

"Kynesha, you *know* it's dangerous for you to go out...."

"But I was goin' nuts here by myself. I thought it be okay if Tiny come
by to see me!" He threw up his hands in exasperation.

"All right, all right. Finish cleaning that up while I drive, er, 'Tiny'
home." He'd hoped to get a few more hours of sleep, before going to
work... he wasn't sure why Romano had had that sudden change of heart
about firing him, but he wasn't about to complain! And... he hoped to
help Kynesha, since Jesse had died in his attempt to help her. Maybe if
*he* could get her straightened out, it would mean that Jesse's death
hadn't been *completely* in vain.

* * *

"Oh, and Dr Chen called down a few minutes ago, looking for Dr Carter.
She's in labor. I told her he'd already gone home, so I guess she'll try
him there." Kerry wondered if it was just her imagination, that she
seemed to hear a tremor in Randi's voice.

"Randi..." She tried to get a word in edgewise, but Randi was still
going on about Dr Chen being in labor, and who knew where Dr Carter was,
and so on. "Randi! Are there any messages for me?!?" Randi cut off in
mid-syllable, and looked embarrassed.

"No, Dr Weaver." Then - surprisingly, for the usually indolent Randi -
she began busying herself with clerical work. Kerry frowned, but moved
on: with Mark out sick for the last couple of weeks, they had all been
busy around here taking up the slack. Dr Dennison - *Nick* - had been
filling in as much as possible, but Kerry was limited in how often she
could call on him as a temp. She suspected that Robert was pushing for
her to fire Mark and replace him... with Nick, or whoever. Rotten little
toad... sometimes she was tempted to point at him and scream to Luka,
"Look! A mugger!"

* * *

"I'm sorry, John. I thought I could do it on my own, but--" Jing-Mei cut
off abruptly and whimpered as another contraction hit, and Carter slid
neatly into the chair by her bedside.

"Hey, it's okay. I *told* you to page me any time, day or night, if you
needed me, didn't I?" He fought back a yawn as he said that - he had
*just* nestled under the blankets for a good long sleep when the pager
had yelped at him to come back to the hospital, and if he succumbed to
the urge to yawn in front of her, she'd feel guilty and insist that he
go back home. And he wasn't going to make her go through something like
this on her own. (Besides, he had to admit that he liked being *allowed*
to stay to help a good friend through this - Carol had ordered him
ejected from the room when *she* was in labor, but Deb had actually
*asked* him to come!)

"You can do it, Deb." She ignored John's continued use of That Name, and
concentrated on his gently encouraging words... that, and the hand he'd
offered her. She grinned tightly, through the pain, when she heard him
yelp... she really should have taken the Lamaze classes more seriously,
or at least agreed to an anesthetic, but she'd been half in denial most
of the last nine months. Like none of this was *real*, that she *wasn't*
going to be giving birth soon. And if she could deny that she was going
to be giving birth, then she could deny that her all too brief affair
with Frank, that had ended so badly, had ever happened. She'd been such
a fool! She let out a little sob at that thought, and bore down on
John's hand.

* * *

Carter couldn't really understand how Deb could *not* want to see or
hold her baby, but he respected her decision... the little guy sure was
cute, though! After the nurse had cleaned up the baby, and Dr Coburn had
checked Apgar scores, Carter had taken him out to the Pattersons to
hold. It was a pretty feeble peace offering, since Deb had changed her
mind at the last minute about letting them in to watch the birth.
Personally, he didn't really think they'd missed all that much - it had
been a lot of blood and screaming, and there was plenty of that every
day in the ER - in a way, he was glad that Carol had kicked him out for
her delivery, but he was also glad to have been there for Deb when she
needed somebody. Who knew... maybe he'd feel differently when it was his
own child being born, to the woman he loved.

After he'd handed the baby over to the Pattersons, he went with Deb as
she was wheeled to postpartum. She was muttering, and whimpering
slightly, and stared up at him with a strange little half-smile. "I
guess you probably figured out a few things about who the father is,
from looking at him."

"Yeah, I guess so. Don't worry, I won't tell Dave anything," he assured
her with a sly grin. She chuckled weakly, and turned her head slightly
as a nurse entered the room. She could see, through the open door, a
couple standing in the hallway, a black man and a Chinese woman, holding
a baby. The sight made her feel sad - it was like the universe was
showing her what *could* have been for her and Frank... but it wasn't
ever going to be, was it? The worst part was, she couldn't help
wondering what Frank was doing, whether he was seeing somebody new...
whether he ever thought about her?

"Thanks, John. Are those the adoptive parents out there?" She didn't
wait for an answer, but continued talking. "You really don't have to
stay, you know. Go find somewhere to crash - I know what time it was
when I paged you."

"No, no, I'm fine. I'll stay right here with you, Deb."

The nurse went around to the other side of the bed from where John was,
and bent down to speak to Jing-Mei. "I'm going to massage your uterus
now, to help it return to its normal size." Carter gulped... that
sounded *just* a little ominous... and kinda gross!

"Uh... I guess I'll go try to get some sleep after all. See you later,
Deb." She snickered at the abruptness of his exit, and waved to him.

"Thank you, John. For *everything*."

* * *

His pager sounded again, and he rose instantly into bleary wakefulness.
"Wha. Huh. Uh," he muttered, and peered at the little torture instrument
for a moment before he shook out the cobwebs and stood up.

He got upstairs to Deb's room in the post-partum ward to find her trying
to get dressed and pacing around wildly as a woman Carter didn't
recognize - though he thought she looked like a slightly more feminine
version of Janet Reno - harangued her. Deb spotted him, and turned to
him with a wild-eyed expression on her face.

"Drive me home, John! Please! I've gotta get outa here, now!"

"Miss Chen, you have to hold the baby! You have to see him!" He wanted
to tell the woman - whoever she was - to shut up, and quit bothering
Deb.

"Deb, you really should stay overnight."

"No! Mothers stay here overnight, and I'm not a mother. That woman who
was out there, Mrs Patterson, *she's* a mother. *Not* me!"

He caught her arm as she began another circuit of the room, and pulled
her into a tight, comforting embrace; he noticed that she was tense and
quivering, but not struggling to pull away from him. "Deb," he whispered
in her ear, "maybe you should. See and hold the baby, that is. Just for
a little while. Uh... say hello to him, so you can say goodbye to him."
She whimpered against his shoulder, a little sound of protest, but
finally nodded in acknowledgment.

"Okay, I'll do it," she said hoarsely. The woman who'd been haranguing
let out a little "aha!" and left the room. Carter wearily left, and
headed back downstairs for another try at a nap.

* * *

Carter didn't even bother looking at his pager when it went off again,
just went directly back to OB. This time, he'd been summoned by Mrs
Patterson, who was in hysterics. "She's holding him, sure, but she's
also *nursing* him!" Mr Patterson was trying to calm her down, but with
little success.

"We lost a baby this way before, when the mother changed her mind at the
last minute," he explained to Carter, an apologetic half-smile on his
face. "I don't think that we can take losing another one, you know?
Can't you please talk to her?"

"Uh, sure Mr Patterson," he said, without much conviction. Sure enough,
Deb was breast-feeding the baby and cooing softly into his little face
as she tickled his little tummy. Carter crouched at Deb's feet, and
looked up at her. "Deb? Deb, what are you doing?"

"I'm breast-freeding the baby, John," she replied, as if it were the
most natural and normal thing in the world for her to be suckling the
infant she was supposed to have handed over to the Pattersons for
adoption.

"Well... yeah. I know. But--"

"Colostrum is essential for the baby's health. I'm giving him a good
head start on developing his immune system, by passing on my own
antibodies to him through my mil-- there's a good boy! Yes!" She
interrupted her own recitation to praise the baby's healthy appetite,
and kissed his little head as he fed. Carter sighed, and closed his eyes
for a moment.

"Deb, you know you have to give him back."

"I could raise him by myself, you know," she said, as if he hadn't
spoken. "I have plenty of money, and I could hire someone to watch him
during the day. I don't *have* to put him up for adoption!" He stroked
her arm gently, a quiet back-and-forth soothing motion.

"How long have you been having second thoughts about this?"

"Always! I've always had second thoughts... about giving him up, about
even *having* him, for that matter."

"You know you have to do this, don't you? I'll stay with you here as
long as you need me, okay?" Jing-Mei nodded, and her face crumpled into
tears.

"Yeah. I know. And I know I've said this a lot today, but thank you for
being here for me today."

"You're my friend, Deb. Of course I'm here for you." She snuffled and
hugged the baby a little tighter against her chest.

"You know, it's kind of a shame that *we* never..." Carter smiled
wistfully.

"Yeah. I don't think we would've worked out, y'know?" He let out a
sudden bark of laughter. "We're both so competitive... can't you see it?
'I had more orgasms than you did!' 'No you didn't, *I* did!'" She
giggled, more from nerves than from actually finding it funny, and he
smiled. "Besides, I think we make better friends."

"Yeah. Now if you could just remember to call me 'Jing-Mei', instead of
'Deb'!" He squeezed her knee gently, and she sadly stroked the baby's
face again. "Let's... let's hurry up and do this, okay? Can you ask the
Pattersons to come back in?"

"Okay. I'll go get them."

* * *

Carter stood behind Deb's chair, and massaged her shoulders as the
Pattersons waited anxiously. Finally, Deb got to her feet and took a few
shuffling steps over to Mrs Patterson, then gently transferred the baby
to the other woman's arms and returned to her chair. Mr Patterson
fetched another chair, so that his wife could sit down, and leaned over
her shoulder to coo at the baby. The woman who'd been railing at Deb
earlier was standing by, her arms crossed and looking very cool and
unapproachable. Carter hadn't liked the looks of her before, and she
hadn't done anything to change his opinion of her.

"We've decided to name him Michael Alexander," Mrs Patterson said, her
face lighting up with joy as she cradled little Michael into her arms
and began to sing to the baby. Carter recognized the song as a lullaby
from the movie "Dumbo", and he winced. "Baby Mine"... why not just put a
big pile of elephant dung in the middle of the room, and rub Deb's face
in it?

Linda Patterson finished singing to the baby, and looked up at the young
woman who'd given birth to this marvelous gift... something she and
James had been waiting and praying for, for a long time. She opened her
mouth for a moment, to say 'thank you', but hesitated. Ms Soufer had
cautioned them against saying such things to the birth mother... and
their previous attempts to ease the transition had nearly resulted in
losing little Michael. Besides, the man with her was obviously very
close to her. Her conscience thus salved, she smiled down at her baby...
and then up at her husband. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yep. Let's go home, shall we?" He gave her a hand up, and they headed
out the door. Mrs Patterson turned back for a brief look at the woman
sitting in the other chair, then followed her husband out.

Carter put his hands on Deb's shoulders as she watched the Pattersons go
out the door. "Get some rest, Deb," he told her quietly, and smoothed
her hair gently. As competitive as their interactions usually were, it
had been a little... *weird* to have been the one who had it together
today. "Remember, call me if you ever need to talk, okay?" She nodded,
her shoulders trembling with the effort of keeping from breaking down
again in front of him.

As he left her room, he spotted the woman who'd been going at Deb like a
dog at a rabbit, and hurried to catch up with her. "Hey! Excuse me," he
snapped at her; she turned around, startled by the tone of his voice.

"Oh... you were with Miss Chen earlier," she said dismissively, and
started to turn around again to continue on her way out.

"That's *Dr* Chen. I want to know where the hell you get off, talking to
her the way you did today! Huh?" The woman looked at him as though she'd
just bitten down on an especially tart lemon.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, come on! All that crap about how she *had* to see the baby and hold
the baby? Did you even *want* this adoption to go off successfully?"

"Of course I did! What are you suggesting, that I'd deliberately foul an
adoption deal?"

"You tell me. Deb told me that you'd told her it was very uncommon for
Asian women you see to go through with their adoptions - is that because
you give them the same treatment I saw you give her back there?" The
woman backed up a step, her mouth opening and closing like an
indignantly startled goldfish.

"I- I- I- how *dare* you speak to me that way?!"

"I dare because I'm her friend. And I'd suggest that you think long and
hard about the way you talk to your clients in the future - I wouldn't
talk to a *dog*, let alone to another human being, the way I saw you
talking to Deb back there!" With that, he pushed past her on his way to
the elevator, to go back down to the ER, leaving her standing in the
middle of the hallway, looking completely gobsmacked by his tirade.

* * *

The movement didn't even register in Carter's conscious mind until later
- it was like somebody else had been behind the wheel, when he popped
open the biker's vial of Vicodin and dry-swallowed two of them. It
didn't catch up to him until he had left the trauma room and was on his
way to-- oh god.

He changed direction immediately and went into the bathroom, where he
stood in one of the stalls desperately trying to trigger his gag reflex
with a couple of his fingers. Uhhhuhhh-ugh! And there they were... he
fished them out of the bowl, and ruthlessly silenced the inner voice
that told him to go ahead and send them back on down. "They're just a
little wet, after all," the voice - which sounded an awful lot like
Chase, as he'd once been - wheedled. He closed his hand over the pills,
and hurried back out of the bathroom.

Fortunately, Abby was down in the ER today on a nursing shift - Debbie
was out sick, and Abby'd been called in on her day off - so Carter
tracked her down in Trauma 2. "Abby, when you have a minute?" She looked
up from counting the used supplies from the latest trauma, and smiled at
him.

"Sure. I'm just about finished in here." She was glad that he'd forgiven
her for what he'd seen as gross betrayal, back in May, but she wished
that he'd find a new sponsor soon... or at least start taking meetings
more seriously. She'd caught him doing a crossword puzzle at the meeting
they'd both attended the other morning, and had surprised both of them
by tearing into him over his lack of attention and participation.

He'd responded indignantly, with a litany of complaints that had ended
with a testy promise to "share with the group" the next day. She'd been
skeptical, and with good reason - he'd dicked around until the meeting
was nearly over, and then had given her a little "Uh oh! No more time.
Maybe tomorrow!" shrug once the meeting had dispersed for the day. But
she had trouble staying mad at Carter, these days...

She let him lead her into the drug lockup area, then looked up at him
expectantly. "What's up?" He didn't answer, just opened his hand and
showed her the soggy pills. Her heart sank when she saw them and took
them from him: they didn't seem to be *too* badly deteriorated... still
appeared to be intact, albeit a little slimy. She put the slime-pills in
a pocket of her scrub top, and looked back up at him. "Have you told
Weaver about this?"

"I don't know what happened... I was exhausted, there were some vials
sitting right there from a patient who came in earlier--" He cut off
when he saw the disappointment in her eyes. "I know. But I *can't* tell
her what happened. I'm on thin ice around here - they'd send me right
back to Atlanta for this slipup, if they knew... assuming I wasn't just
*fired*." Abby sighed, and tapped her fingers on her leg.

"Okay. I'm off in about five minutes. Go find Weaver, and tell her that
you have to go home, because you're sick." She smiled at his wide-eyed
look of shock. "You threw up, didn't you? C'mon. I'm gonna take you to a
meeting. You'll *have* to tell her about what happened, though."

"Later," Carter said vaguely. Abby shook her head.

* * *

"Sick?" Kerry sighed. Great. Well, she'd just have to get Dave to stay,
and cover the rest of John's shift. Dave had been a lot better lately
about performing his duties responsibly - it was a remarkable
turnaround. John had mentioned, in passing, that he thought Dave had a
new girlfriend... whoever she was, she appeared to be a good influence
on him! "Go home, and get some rest. I hope you feel better soon."

"Thanks, Kerry. See you later!" She shook her head as he left.

* * *

"*John* Desmond?" Kerry made a little pushing-away motion with her
hands, at the affirmative answer. "Oh, no, *I* don't want him!"

"C'mon, Chief," Dave teased. "I thought we were supposed to take 'em as
they came, with no picking out the interesting cases." She'd scolded him
earlier that morning, for trying to swap a simple case of hemorrhoids
for a GSW, and she grinned at him unapologetically.

"RHIP, Dr Malucci. Luka, why don't you take him?" Luka stared at her
blankly. "Trust me, you're the *perfect* one to take him." He shrugged
and took the chart from her, and went to deal with this John Desmond who
Kerry was so insistent that he treat.

"Dr Kovac? Are you sure about that, Dr Weaver?" Kerry arched an eyebrow
at Cleo's bemused question.

"Mm-hm. Either he will be perfectly civil the entire time, or Desmond
will wind up provoking him into outright homicide. Either way..."

"I see your point. Malucci'd probably clobber him in about two seconds."

"Exactly. The last thing this hospital - *or* Dave - needs is for him to
go off on another patient."

* * *

"So how long *do* you think he'll last?" The women in the area of the
admit desk had watched Luka go to find John Desmond... or rather, they
had watched his butt as he went to find Desmond. Lydia's question was
directed at the group in general - they'd all had run-ins with Desmond,
to some extent, at one time or another.

"Mmmmm... two, three minutes, *tops*." Cleo had only lasted about a
minute herself, last fall, before she'd reacted to his taunts about her
mixed parentage by "forgetting" to anesthetize the gash on his arm she
was to suture.

"Care to make a wager on that?" Malik waggled the pool cup in front of
Cleo's face invitingly.

"Okay. Two and a half minutes," she declared, as she put in her
contribution. Lydia snorted, and added to the pot.

"Less than a minute."

"I say he lasts four minutes, then takes that little worm up to the
rooftop, carves him up with a scalpel, and throws him over the side!"
Chuny had always had a flair for being overly precise in her bets, and
now was no exception.

Kerry watched as, one by one, people made their bets and put their money
into the pool cup. "You are *all* wretched people," she began, then
fished a fiver out of her pocket. "*I* say he won't react at all to that
little jerk." There was an audible gasp from the others, then Malik
finally found his voice.

"Okay, but we're gonna be checkin' him for bruises."

* * *

John Desmond *looked* harmless enough, Luka decided as he entered the
exam room and introduced himself, if a little peculiar. Desmond was
slightly weedy, with scrapes and bruises and cuts and assorted bandages
all over him, and was writing in a little notebook on his lap as Lily
stormed out. Luka noticed that she was muttering angrily under her
breath, but was distracted from the thought when Desmond spoke up.

"Can I ask you two questions, Dr Kovac?"

"Why not." Desmond clicked a button on his watch.

"Where are you from?" Luka hesitated a moment... what the hell, it
wasn't like the guy was asking him what his birthday was.

"I'm from Croatia." Desmond decided that needling Dr Kovac about the war
in Yugoslavia was an option... then remembered his visit to the ER last
November, and the way the Croatian doctor had been interacting with...
what was her name? Right. Dr Weaver. Now *she'd* been almost as easy to
provoke as that nurse nearly six years ago.

"Hm. So, do you think that cute redheaded doctor would go out with me?"

"I wouldn't know," Luka told him stiffly. Aha! There was a good
direction to go, too - *that* had got a reaction. Not much of one, but
enough to know that he'd hit a nerve somewhere.

"Really. She's pretty hot, you know. And no ring... unattached, I
guess." He saw the bemused look on Luka's face, and pressed on. "Hell,
if I had a woman like that, I'd want the world to know she was mine."

"Is that so."

--
Ellen K. Hursh
"You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair.
Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and
all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually
deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility
and unfairness of the universe." --Marcus Cole
* * *
"Fly, fat-ass, fly!" --Jay Phat Buds