TITLE: Ribbon of Glass

AUTHOR: Pebbles

FEEDBACK PLEASE! pebbles@ukgateway.net

RATING: Over 13? A little bad language

DISCLAIMER: See Part 1

ARCHIVE: Please check with me first.

THANK YOU - a huge one - to my tireless beta-reader Chris.

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"Everything I possess
Given with tenderness
Wrapped in a ribbon of glass" - Annie Lennox (Cold)

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Part 12

29^{th December}

1.45pm

John Carter wasn’t at all thrilled to have been called in at short notice by Romano, following Luka’s sudden departure. He wasted no time in finding Abby to fill him in. She was in a supply closet, replenishing the shelves. Pausing only to slip his arms around her waist and kiss the back of her neck, he urged her to tell him the latest.

"So what’s going on? Frank tells me Kovac’s resigned!"

"Yeah," Abby confirmed, reaching up and placing the last box of latex gloves on the top shelf.

"Well, tell me what happened, woman!" He gently spun her round to face him.

"He and Tweedale had a punch up."

"What!" She might as well have said that aliens had abducted them - it was such an unlikely explanation.

"Yeah, and Tweedale came off worst." The grin on her face showed him clearly who she’d been rooting for.

"I don’t get it - what was it about?"

"You mean apart from the fact that the weasel got what was coming to him?" When John looked even more confused, she stated bluntly: "Sophie."

"Sophie? I’m missing something here. What’s it got to do with Sophie?"

"Kovac’s in love with her." Abby turned away towards the door leaving John still scratching his head.

"What? Where on earth d’you get that idea from?"

"Oh Carter," she sighed "you can be so dense sometimes!"

John shook his head, still not really buying into her explanation. "Well I’ve got some news for you, too." He followed her out of the closet. "D’you remember Judge Adams - who spoke to me at the Ball?"

"Yeah?"

"Well he called me this morning with some very interesting information about Tweedale."

This caught Abby’s attention and she immediately forgot all about getting on with her work. She pushed Carter back into the closet. "Spill it then," she ordered.

John grinned at her eagerness. "Well, Tweedale appeared before the judge last year on a charge of credit card fraud. He got off on a technicality, but Adams told me that he’s still under investigation. Apparently he’s a gambler. He’s got a real problem with it - like an addiction - and has got himself into serious debt. He was running some stolen card scam to try and get his head above water." John folded his arms across his chest, satisfied that he had got the story straight.

"Shit!" Abby exhaled loudly.

"Exactly." John sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "What are we going to tell Sophie?"

"Nothing." When John balked at this, Abby explained. "It’s no good telling her - she won’t hear anything against him. I tried talking to her about Simon’s behaviour the night she got drunk, but she wouldn’t listen to anything I’d got to say. And the last thing I want to do is alienate her."

"Well, I could try to warn Tweedale off myself - tell him I know all about the fraud charges and the gambling."

"Yeah, I reckon that might work. And you could make sure he knows that everything Sophie inherited from her father is going to a charity."

"I didn’t know that!" He was beginning to think that he must have been inhabiting a different dimension for the past few weeks to have missed so much.

"No? Well, I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell you, but in the circumstances I think it’s OK. Let Tweedale know that too, and it should prove one way or the other what his intentions are."

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6.30pm

Luka slung his bag down on the bed. He’d finally found himself back in his hotel room after almost eight hours spent wandering the streets. A fine layer of powder snow still clung to his coat, although the warmth of the room was beginning to melt it. Luka himself was chilled to the bone and, after a moment’s indecision, he moved to the bathroom and started to draw a bath. He shed his overcoat and then just stood waiting for the water to fill the tub, shivering uncontrollably.

If he had been asked where he had been since he left the hospital he could not have answered truthfully. Once or twice he had taken shelter in a café or bar to drink some coffee and try to warm up but in between he had just roamed about aimlessly, trying to put his head in order. He still could not really believe what he’d done.

How had he let that man wind him up so easily? Of course he knew the answer but he hardly dared admit it. He was jealous. It was an ugly emotion - not one he had ever experienced before. The momentary gratification of punching Tweedale had been immediately undone by the shame he had brought on himself. Even though he was sure that he was in the right regarding the patient, there could be no excuse for physical violence. It was something that he normally abhorred.

As soon as the bath was filled, Luka began to undress, his cold fingers struggling to loosen the buttons of his shirt. At last he was naked - his clothes an untidy heap on the floor - and he lowered himself into the hot water. Lying back, so that as much of him as possible was under the water - his height and the shortness of the tub made total immersion impossible - he sighed for probably the hundredth time that day.

He could not forget the revulsion he’d seen in Sophie’s eyes. He’d been a fool to entertain any hope of ever having more than a professional relationship with her and now he had certainly destroyed any respect she might have had for him. Worse still, he had probably driven her even farther into Tweedale’s clutches. He kneaded his scalp as if he could somehow force his brain erase the memory of this awful day. The scalding water barely warmed his skin. There was little chance that it was going to touch the chill in his heart.

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January 2nd

10.30am

Sophie sat listlessly looking out of the living room window towards the frozen lake. The sky was grey and a fresh snowstorm threatened. She couldn’t remember a time when there hadn’t been snow on the ground. The persistent cold echoed the way that she felt. For four days now, ever since that incident with the GSW, Simon had been avoiding her. She was at a loss to understand it.

The whole affair had been deeply disturbing. With hindsight she could see that Dr Kovac had been right. It would have been futile to try and work on the patient any longer. But his anger with Tweedale seemed to come out of nowhere and, even now, just recalling the way he had picked Simon up and thrown him across the room caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. She shivered, although the room was warm, and got up to throw another log on the fire.

Watching the flames licking around the edges of the wood she wondered more about Simon’s behaviour. She couldn’t understand what she had done wrong to warrant his change in attitude. Up until that fateful morning he had been so attentive - finding every opportunity to steal a few minutes with her and railing against his busy schedule that so often kept them apart. But now he was not even answering her calls and whenever she managed to track him down on the surgical floor he made excuses to hurry away.

Nothing made any sense. She turned her attention to the room, which was a mess with open textbooks and paperwork sprawled over every available surface. She was in no mood to study so perhaps she should take the opportunity to have a big tidy up and clean the place from top to bottom. First she selected her favourite ‘cleaning music’ - Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet Suites and then she turned the volume up really loud.

She made short work of tidying the living room, piling up all the loose papers and books and slinging them into the study. The surfaces took a little longer, as the dust was really thick. An open fire was comforting in this weather but it certainly made for extra work. Finally, she worked her way around the room with the vacuum cleaner, keeping time with the "Dance of the Montagues and Capulets".

As she ran the machine along by the couch, there was a choking kind of sound and she quickly turned the cleaner off. Bending down, she found that the nozzle had been clogged up by a piece of material. When she pulled it out, she saw that it was a pair of cream lacy panties - the ones she had been wearing on Christmas Eve. There was no doubt about that; they were the ones that matched the garter belt. She stood holding them in her hand whilst the music blared ominously all around her. A horrible tight feeling constricted her throat.

Suddenly she dropped the vacuum cleaner and rushed towards the hall, taking the stairs two at a time. Reaching her bedroom she began to rummage through the pile of clothes on the armchair until she found the dress that she had been wearing that night. It was right at the bottom of the pile, just where she had slung it in her haste to get ready for her morning shift. She spread it out on the bed and examined it closely. There was a pale stain low on the back. She held it up against her, to figure out where the stain would be when she was wearing it. Then sat down heavily on the bed.

"Oh my God!" She spoke out loud, her voice choking. She held her fingers over her mouth, breathing heavily, and then, as the bile rose in her throat she made a dash for the bathroom and collapsed in front of the toilet. How long she crouched there hugging the bowl, as she heaved up every last vestige of her breakfast, she didn’t know nor care. This was a nightmare, she thought. Even worse there was no hope of ever waking up.

She still couldn’t remember exactly what had happened that night but the scales were beginning to fall from her eyes. Simon obviously knew, though, and it was time she confronted him about it. She pulled herself back to her feet and washed her face. Looking in the mirror she was ashamed to see such a stupid girl looking back at her. She threw more cold water at her face - it was time to wake up.

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12.10pm

Sophie left her car in the hospital parking garage then went around to the public entrance, not wishing to bump into anyone in the ER. Soon she was walking down the main surgical floor wondering exactly what she was going to say when she finally found Simon. Of course, there was a strong possibility he would be in the middle of surgery and she would have to wait to have it out with him.

The sound of raised voices halted her progress and she found herself hovering outside the open door of Romano’s office. It was the Chief of Staff’s voice that was raised but there was no doubt as to who was on the receiving end of his tongue-lashing.

"You give me one fucking reason why I should put my name to this?" There was a scraping of chairs and Sophie backed away. When no one appeared in the doorway, she moved closer again.

"It’s just a transfer. It’s been done before!" Simon’s voice came through loud and clear.

"But you had a future here! You know you were on a fast track to plastics? Now you’ve gone and thrown that all away." There was more than a tinge of regret in the senior doctor’s voice. Simon had been his protégé.

"I know, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. This is my only chance to get out of this mess."

"Well I don’t like it. And if I find out that there’s more to this than you’ve been telling me, this recommendation won’t be worth jack-shit!" Sophie couldn’t catch what Simon said to this and she was forced to duck into the next door office when Romano suddenly walked out into the hallway. As soon as he had passed by, she took her courage in both hands and entered the office.

Tweedale was standing with his back to her, looking out of the window.

"So you’re leaving County?" Sophie clenched her hands, hoping that her voice didn’t betray her emotions.

Simon spun round, completely taken off guard. "Sophie!" His usual quick answers deserted him as she had obviously over heard his conversation. He mumbled something about transferring his residency to Boston, effective immediately.

"And when were you going to tell me about this?" Sophie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had only last week applied for a paediatrics residency at County with Simon’s full knowledge and support. He had made it clear then that he saw a future for them together. Now he was running out on her without any explanation.

Simon could not meet her eyes. "I’m sorry, I would have told you sooner but things have been really hectic here…"

"Really?" Sophie interrupted. She pulled something out of her pocket and flung it at him. Instinctively he caught it. Looking at the ball of material he held in his hands, his eyes widened in shock. It was her lacy panties.

"So, when were you going to tell me about what really happened on Christmas Eve?" Her voice was breaking now and she bit down hard on her lower lip to try and stop it from trembling.

"Sophie." He looked at her with pain in his eyes. He shook his head, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I’m sorry…"

"Tell me," Sophie was losing control fast, "didn’t you even have the decency to use a condom?" Looking into his eyes, she got all the answer she wanted. She turned and fled, her sight blinded by the tears that started to fill her eyes. Bouncing off a startled nurse who was just exiting the elevator, she ran on down the stairs, not thinking about where she was going. Just wanting to get out of there as fast as possible.

Her feet automatically propelled her into the ER, where she ran straight into a startled John Carter.

"Sophie?" He immediately took in her tear stained face and shaking shoulders and guided her deftly into the lounge. One glare at Dave Malucci and they were alone together. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight, murmuring soothing words into her hair. When he thought that she had begun to calm down, he gently released her and bent to look into her face.

"Oh John! I’ve been such a fool!" And the tears started all over again. This time John helped her to sit down on an easy chair and settled down beside her, holding onto her hands. Every time she thought she had got herself under control, a glance into John’s soft brown eyes would start her off all over again. Finally she managed to get out a few more words whilst studying her hands, which still lay in his two larger ones.

"He’s leaving for Boston - transferring his residency. I only found out by accident."

"Tweedale?" He was not surprised. Ever since he had dropped his own bombshell in Tweedale’s lap, he had been waiting to see what the surgeon would do.

She sniffed loudly. "I’ve been a fool," she repeated. "John, um, could you draw some blood. I - I want a pregnancy test." And she burst into loud racking sobs again.

John pulled her in tight, wrapping his arms around her. "Of course I will." He assured her. Oh, God, what a mess, he thought.

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End of part 12

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