---------------------------------
Chapter Nineteen: Subject Change
---------------------------------
My stupid mouth
Has got me in trouble
I said too much again
To a date over dinner yesterday
-------------------------------
They were moving into each other's personal space. It started with
Dave pretending to yawn, stretching and resting his arm on the part of
the couch conveniently located behind John's back. John had rolled his
eyes, although the smile he wore on his face showed his amusement, and
pretty soon he was resting in the crook of Dave's arm. Dave nuzzled
his cheek against John's, who reciprocated by trailing his hand across
Dave's thigh, his fingers tracing near-invisible lines over the denim.
Eyes met. Lips met. And soon they were engaged in a pretty heavy
make-out session.
"Would you two cut it out?" Abby asked from her spot on the armchair
near the couch. She sighed as the two men didn't appear to have heard
her - or perhaps just flat-out ignored her. Briefly, she glanced at
them, turning away from George Clooney and Matt Damon blowing up a
safe containing a ninety-five pound Chinese man and a hundred and
sixty million dollars. Dave must've been really horny, she thought
with a sardonic grin, for him to turn down George Clooney. Suddenly
one of the men moaned, though she couldn't tell whom. "Okay, guys. Get
a room."
They were still ignoring her, and someone had leaned against the
remote because suddenly the screen was displaying Matthew McConaughey
desperately trying to devise a plan to save his submarine. And, as
much as she was enjoying watching their little romp on the couch, she
had to put a stop to this before it was too late and she saw more than
even *she* wanted to see.
"I'm moving out."
It worked just like she'd thought it would. Immediately, the two men
pulled away from each other, turning to her with surprised
expressions. Except for a flash of a moment, she could've sworn she
saw something else in John's eyes. Exasperation? Relief? Both? Dave
had told her in secrecy once that John was jealous of their
friendship...but did John really dislike her that much?
Finally, Dave broke the silence with a rather articulate: "Huh?"
She smiled in spite of herself. "I said I'm moving out. Back to my
apartment."
"We didn't mean to ignore you," John stated. "I mean...we did, but..."
"That's not why I'm moving out," she said, chuckling slightly. "It's
just time. I can't keep living here forever."
"Why not?" Dave asked, grinning before turning serious. "Look, Abby,
you can stay as long as you want. You don't have to go just because
you think it's time. It's only been a month since...the...since
that...that asshole attacked you. You should stay here, where it's
safe. Where we can protect you, right, John?"
John nodded. "Sure...yeah. You don't have to go back."
"I called my landlord," Abby said. "Brian moved out, so I can move
back in now. I just need to change the locks, and I'll be okay. It's
just time for me to reclaim my life...things are a mess..."
She trailed off, but Dave didn't allow his attention to do the same.
There was something in her voice that scared him, something he
couldn't put his finger on, but it was the same thing he'd noticed in
her behavior lately. And he suddenly felt terrible...God, how that
bastard had hurt her. Quietly, he asked: "You okay, Abs?"
She nodded, the reassuring smile plastered on her face covering her
inner turmoil. But how was she supposed to tell a barely-stable Dave
that she had been drinking more and more lately? That she had at least
four bottles hiding in her bedroom right now? It was simple: she
couldn't. "I'm fine, Dave, don't worry."
"Are you sure?" Dave asked, the worry apparent in his expression. "You
can still stay here a while."
"We all need to move on, and I can't stay here if I want to do that,"
she said, shaking her head. When she'd started this conversation,
she'd really only intended to grab the men's attention away from each
other so she could watch the movie without distractions, but now she
realized what had to be done. "I'm going to start packing."
"Okay," Dave said, nodding. "Do you want help?"
"No!" she exclaimed, more excitedly than she should have. She could
see both men were clearly startled and somewhat puzzled. "I mean...no.
I can do it." She grinned. "And you two can do it too."
She stood, waving to them with a smile, and Dave and John exchanged
looks and watched her she went into her room, closing the door behind
her. His brow knotted in thought, as he asked: "What do you think she
meant by 'we all' need to move on?"
"I don't know," John admitted, shrugging. "Well...she *is* kind of
holding us back from moving on by continuing to live here, I guess."
"John..."
"Dave...we have things we need to work through, and we can't do it
with Abby here."
"I think she was just making an excuse."
"And why would she do that?" John asked. "You're her best
friend...she'd tell you if something was wrong."
Dave seemed to consider this, before saying, "Can't think. Half of my
blood is still in my penis."
John grinned as his lover began to kiss him senseless again, but then
had a thought and moved away slightly. "You're not...upset that she's
leaving?"
"I guess I'll miss her here," Dave replied. "But she'll visit, and we
can visit her. It's not like she's moving to another state or
anything." He leaned forward and started kissing John again, before
he, himself, had a thought, glancing at his lover with exasperation.
"That's not supposed to mean something, is it?"
"No, no," John responded, shaking his head. "I was just curious."
"Good."
Things got heated again pretty quickly, and soon Dave was laying back
on the couch with John straddling him, rocking their hips against one
another as a promise of things to come. And, before it was *really*
too late, John placed his hands on Dave's chest and gently pushed him
back. "Wait," he said, breathless. "Let's move this to the bedroom
before we scandalize Abby."
"She'd like it," Dave said, grinning, as he grasped John's shirt
collar and pulled him back down to kiss him deeply. John allowed
himself to be kissed, moving his hands from Dave's chest and to his
abdomen, running his fingers up and under his shirt...feeling and
memorizing...teasing and promising...touching and - tickling!! "Okay,
okay!" Dave cried, laughing wildly. "Uncle! I give in! We'll go to the
bedroom!"
Moments later, John's back hit the bed, Dave following suit by
straddling his thighs, neither men's lips leaving one another as they
did so. They were already naked, their clothes hastily strewn about
the room, and John was getting ready to be thoroughly fucked by his
boyfriend, his heart racing at just the thought. It had been a while
since they had made love...since the day Dave had bared his soul and
told him his deepest secrets. John had waited for Dave to make the
first move before they became intimate again, not wanting to push the
young man into doing anything he didn't want to, or anything he felt
he had to. However, for the past few weeks their shifts had been long
and at all different times, deterring them from seeing each other, let
alone getting personal like this. And, now, on this Thursday, a day
that both of them had off, they could fully enjoy exploring each other
once again.
Dave paused in their fervent kissing to reach for the nightstand,
pulling open the draw and rummaging around inside before he found the
lubricant. He twisted off the cap, and was about to squeeze some onto
his fingers when he paused. Glancing up, he met John's eyes, opening
his mouth as if to say something, but then he shut it again, and just
handed the tube to his lover. The last time they had done this, he'd
told John to prepare himself, and he'd done it without hesitance,
knowing it was what Dave had wanted. But he figured it had been a
one-time thing, and now that Dave was asking him to do it again, he
was beginning to get concerned.
Holding the lube, he blurted out before he could stop himself, "You
don't want to touch me anymore?"
"What?" Dave asked, surprised. Immediately, he began to shake his
head. "No, no, it's not that...it's just...I mean...I want you to
touch me."
"Where??"
Dave indicated his hard-on with an exaggerated glance. "Where do you
think?"
"Are you sure?" John asked, his shock still apparent. Dave had
blatantly told him several times before not to touch him anywhere
below his waist, and now asking John to do it was surprising. And John
wanted to make sure it wasn't because Dave felt he had to. "I don't
have to, Dave. I won't leave you, and I certainly won't love you any
less."
"I want you to," Dave stated, though the hesitancy in his voice was
clear. But the desperation in his eyes was clear as well. He wanted to
do this. "Please?"
"Okay," John replied softly, nodding. He squeezed some of the
lubricant onto the palm of his hand, his actions deliberately slow in
case Dave changed his mind. Apprehensively, he reached out, watching
his lover carefully before wrapping his hand around Dave's penis. The
gasp he heard was audible, and he quickly pulled his hand away.
"No, don't stop," he said, pulling John's hand back to where it had
been. "It's just cold, that's all."
"Sorry," John apologized. "It'll warm up soon."
Slowly, he began pumping Dave's erection, coating it with lubricant
like he'd seen Dave do countless times before. He pretended not to
notice how tense the other man was as he did it, but when Dave began
to visibly flinch he stopped. "Do you want me to keep going?" he
asked, unsure.
"Yeah, yeah," Dave said quickly, nodding, but then seemed to
reconsider. He breathed hard for a few moments, before, finally:
"Wait, stop...I...I can't...I'm sorry, I thought I could, but I..."
"It's okay, Dave, it's okay," he said, leaning forward so that he
could pull the other man into his arms and hug him reassuringly. He
was slightly startled when Dave almost instinctively pulled away and
held up his hands in half-surrender and half-defense.
"It's just..." He paused as he tried to compose himself, realized what
he'd just done, and a moment later he leaned forward and wrapped his
arms around John, burying his face in John's shoulder. He didn't like
sharing his feelings, he'd always gotten in trouble for it when he was
a kid, and it was still awkward for him, years later. But they were
always honest with each other now. There was no holding back anymore,
they knew everything about one another, and it was scary and
completely amazing at the same time. And he loved the fact that John
wanted to hear anything he had to say. "It's just that...when you do
that...I think about...*him*...and it - and I don't want to be
thinking about him when I'm with you."
"We're trying, and that's what matters," John said, pushing Dave
gently back so he could look him in the eye. "It's just going to take
a while, that's all. We just have to be patient."
"We?"
Gently, John smiled, the compassion - the *love* - in John's eyes
breathtaking. "We're in this together, aren't we?"
They were in this together. We. We. Dave liked the sound of that, and
he grinned broadly at the thought. "I love you," he said.
John smiled back, leaning forward and kissing him sweetly on the lips.
"I love you too."
--------------------------------
I could see
She was offended
She said, "Well, anyway..."
Just dying for a subject change
--------------------------------
If Dr. Greene not being man enough for Dr. Corday to stick around was
the best the Rumor Mill had to offer at the moment, Dave figured he
might as well just call today an outright *boring* day. He'd been on
shift for about seven hours now, and so far no special traumas had
come in, no exciting cases, and, to make matters worse, Dr. Weaver had
decided to join him on this incoming ambulance he was waiting outside
for.
It wasn't as if she were being mean to him, or in one of her moods. It
was quite the opposite, actually. Ever since he'd come in a few weeks
ago to get his hand stitched up, she'd been all over him, asking him
if he needed help and even being *considerate*. He felt like a med
student again, and it was really starting to grate on his nerves.
Especially since now, instead of thinking he was just incompetent, she
thought he was crazy as well. Maybe incompetent *and* crazy. And the
more he thought about it, the more it irked him.
At least now he could run major cases again; those splints had finally
come off today, and the Chief herself had cleared him for traumas,
although he could see the clear hesitancy in her eyes as she'd said
it. And he had a sneaking suspicion she'd been holding back on taking
the damn things off in the first place. But she had nothing to worry
about. Okay, so crying in front of her might not have been the
smartest move, but he'd been his chipper self since then, so why was
she still following him around?
He knew why. She was, in plain English, worried about him. The Chief,
Festus, the cold-hearted bitch, the Nazi - whatever you wanted to call
her - was worried about *Dr. Dave*. He'd known it the minute she'd
told him she'd fire him if he didn't let her give him a checkup. A
checkup! A whole checkup for a few goddamned hand lacs. She had sprung
this piece of information on him in at Admin, when he'd been searching
for a new case from the rack.
"Dr. Malucci."
"Chief," he'd replied, watching her carefully out of the corner of his
eye.
"What are you doing?"
"Grabbing a case," he replied, leafing through the charts. "The
splints came off today, so no more scut work for me."
"Who took them off?"
"Gallant," he replied hesitantly, not wanting to get the med student
in trouble but knowing Dr. Weaver would slowly pick off the staff one
by one until she knew. "I walked him through the exam. He did pretty
good."
"Really," she almost stated, and he could tell she was pissed. She
grabbed the chart he'd removed from the rack. "I specifically remember
telling you that until *I* cleared you for running cases and traumas,
that you weren't to touch a chart unless I gave it to you."
"My hand is fine, Chief!" he cried, exasperated. "What else do you
want from me?"
"A checkup," she stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the
world.
"What?" he asked, incredulous. "Why? Come on, Chief..."
"You want to practice medicine here, Dr. Malucci," she snapped,
garnering the attention of a few staff members around them, "then
those are the terms. You don't like them, I'm sure I can find you
another suture case."
He glanced off, embarrassed. She always had to do that, didn't she?
Quietly, he asked, "What's open, Frank?"
"Exam three."
"Dave," she called softly, as he began moving towards the exam room.
He ignored her, but she kept talking anyway. "I just want to make sure
that you're okay. Humor me. Please?"
"Do I have a choice?" he asked, rather calmly. "Your way or the
highway, remember?"
She sighed as he sat down silently, and he considered bitterly that
she could've at least been subtler about it, *and* about the way she
interrogated him during the exam as if he'd committed murder. Without
any pretense she hit him with the first question:
"How are your sessions going?" she'd asked. He flinched away as she
shone her penlight into his eyes. "Would you stop? You're like a
little kid."
"Well, I just don't think this whole thing is necessary," he stated,
rather exasperatedly.
"Which is why I don't let you run the place," she retorted, and he
rolled his eyes. "Now, how are your sessions going?"
"Fine, I guess," he replied rather hesitantly. She cocked a brow,
letting him know that wasn't the answer she was looking for. "They're
going good. I was late once though, and they gave me detention."
She smirked, although she tried to compress it, and he could still see
the amusement in her eyes even as she tried to lecture him. "This
isn't punishment, Dave. It's meant to help you, but it can't unless
you let it. Lift up your shirt."
"What?" he asked, alarmed. He glanced at her. "Chief, this is stupid.
You don't need to check my heart or lungs, I'm alive and I'm
breathing, so obviously both are okay."
"I just changed my mind," she said, and he glanced at her puzzlingly.
"*That* is why I don't let you run the place."
"Come on, Chief," he pleaded. If she saw those scars, he didn't know
what she'd do or say. Or how she'd treat him afterwards. "Please? I'm
fine. Humor *me*."
"Fine," she said, and then grabbed his wrist, at least adamant about
taking his pulse. She glanced at her watch as she did it, keeping
track of the seconds and beats. He watched her carefully, saw her eyes
studying the faint scars on his wrist, and was thankful when she
refrained from commenting again. She must've learned her lesson since
the last time. Almost off-handedly, she asked: "Do you have a
sponsor?"
"Dr. Lewis offered to be my sponsor, and give me really good
evaluations at work too," Dave stated. "But in return I have to give
her sex when she wants it. It's not too bad, considering..."
It was her turn now: "Dave..."
"Yes, I have a sponsor," he sighed. Jeeze, couldn't she take a joke?
"His name's Josh, and I met him at the meetings."
"Do you like him?"
"Yeah," Dave replied hesitantly. "He's okay, I guess."
"Are you working the steps?"
"Not yet, but soon."
"Good," she stated, as she began to carefully look over his hand. "How
long has he been clean?"
"Ten years."
"And how many meetings are you going to a week?"
"I try to go to one every day," he lied, rather easily. "Sometimes
with work it's tough, but usually it's one a day. I go with a friend
of mine...I was thinking about asking her to be my sponsor."
"You know how they feel about men and women having the opposite sex as
their sponsor," she reminded him, and he fought the urge to roll his
eyes. "Why change and start all that controversy when you have Josh?"
"He's moving to L.A.," he stated. "Besides, my friend and I are
strictly friends. I'm already involved with someone."
"Right," she replied, and he could tell her mind had drifted right to
Abby. "Still, I think you of all people should stick with a male
sponsor...just think about it." The statement stung, but he let it go,
just like he did every other time. She let go of his hand to stand
before him and looked him in the eye. "How have you been feeling?"
"Fine," he replied, looking away. "I told you I didn't need that
'checkup.'"
"That's not what I'm asking and you know it."
"Why do you suddenly care?" he asked defensively. "You couldn't have
given a shit about me before, and now suddenly you're my mother.
Why??"
She hesitated, and he scoffed. Quickly, she said: "It's my job."
"Wrong answer," he stated. And, even as he was getting off of the exam
table: "Are we finished?"
"Dr. Malucci!"
He paused, but didn't turn. He didn't want to see the concern in her
eyes, and he certainly didn't want her to see the hurt in his. Ever
since he'd arrived at County he'd longed for her approval and
acceptance, but now that he had it he couldn't help to think it was
for one reason. "I think the answer you're looking for, Dr. Weaver, is
'guilt,'" he stated, not wanting and definitely not needing her pity.
He waited for her to say something more, but she didn't, so he simply
left the room without another word.
---
Oh, it's another social casualty
Score one for me
How could I forget?
Mama said, "Think before speaking..."
No filter in my head
Oh, what's a boy to do?
I guess he'd better find one soon
---
Later that afternoon, as he stood outside of the ER bay doors waiting
for an oncoming ambulance to arrive, he stole a glance at her,
wondering why exactly she was there. They hadn't exchanged words or
even glances as she'd joined him, but he knew she had to be up to
something.
"You're the one who spent the night at an old boyfriend's house!" He
looked up to see John approaching with Susan Lewis, both just heading
in to start their night shifts. Briefly, he wondered if his boyfriend
was referring to Dr. Greene; he'd heard, in fact, that the two of them
had had a thing a long time ago. And now with Dr. Corday out of the
way...
"He's not my old boyfriend!" Susan then replied incredulously, pausing
in her walk to stare John right in the eyes. "He's like an older
brother. And I don't want to sleep with him."
"Well, I don't want to sleep with Abby," John stated blatantly,
causing Dave to toss him a surprised glance, a hint of a smile on his
lips. Surely Susan had brought something like that up.
"Dave!" she suddenly exclaimed, startling him. "Sorry, I didn't know
you were there...we were just..."
"That's okay," he said, unable to hold back his grin. Months later,
and everyone still thought he was seeing Abby. He supposed it was only
natural - they got along great and were nearly constantly together.
John was always with them, of course, but no one even considered they
could be together. He glanced again at his lover. Secret lover.
He really hated thinking about that, because it got him in a sour mood
pretty quickly. They'd been dating for months, had been serious for
months, and John still got paranoid about someone finding out. What
did that mean? That John was ashamed of him? If he wasn't, if he just
wasn't ready, then how much longer would it take until he was? Maybe
John didn't think they were going to last. Maybe *that* was why. If
they weren't going to last, then why bother?
Okay. He *really* had to stop thinking about this. Thankfully,
familiar sirens broke him out of his reverie, drawing his attention to
the upcoming case. Hopefully it'd be an exciting one.
"Susan, John," Dr. Weaver called, as they tried to enter the ER. She
indicated the approaching ambulance. "Can you assist Dr. Malucci with
this case?"
"I can handle it, Chief," Dave cut in, holding out his hands as if to
ask what the hell she was doing. "I've done a thousand cases by myself
before."
"It's your first day back on traumas," she reminded him, and he rolled
his eyes. "You might be a little rusty. Dr. Carter and Lewis will just
assist, you can run it."
"Thanks for your permission," he muttered, but she was already moving
hastily back inside the ER. He sighed as he approached the ambulance
that had been his until merely seconds ago. "I swear, one of these
days..."
"I'm not even on for another ten minutes," Susan whined, before
turning to the paramedic. "Tell me this is an easy one."
Luckily for Susan - and unfortunately for Dave - the trauma *was* an
easy one: a dominatrix and her client, both hardly injured but both
very creepy. Within minutes the patients had been wheeled out,
stabilized and ready for Radiology. Then General Medicine would get
them, and it wouldn't go farther than that. What a waste, Dave thought
bitterly. One of them could've at least had some tricky, rare disease
like Eosinophilic Fasciitis, or Angioimmunoblastic with
Dysproteinemia, or...
"Hey..." he suddenly said, spotting something in the corner of the
trauma room he hadn't noticed before. Quickly, he maneuvered through
the team - Susan, Abby, John, Luka and Michael Gallant - to get to it.
"What's this?"
"I think it's hers," John stated, glancing at the huge black bag Dave
hefted into the air.
"Who?" Susan asked, and then put on a thick, horrible accent: "The
Mistress of Pain?"
"What's she got in this thing?" Dave asked rhetorically, dropping it
onto a nearby tray table. "It weighs, like, five hundred pounds."
"I don't want to know," Luka stated, stripping off his gloves.
Dave looked up at him with a naughty smile Luka remembered all too
well. "I do."
"I'm surprised you even noticed that bag there," Susan quipped. "The
only thing you could practically look at while she was in the room
were her breasts!"
"Not true," Dave responded, although his broad grin suggested that it
was, indeed, very true. Hey, he was taken, not dead. Suddenly, John
tried to take the bag from him. "Wait, what are you doing?"
"Come on, give it up," he replied, grabbing the bag, and Dave wondered
if it was payback for his earlier ogling. "I'll take it to her."
"We just want to take a quick peek," Abby countered, glancing at Luka
for support, but the Attending only held up his hands in surrender. He
was going to have no part of this. "You guys are so boring! Dave's the
only one who knows how to live a little."
"Hey, you need me anymore, Dr. Carter?" Michael piped up, not
particularly liking the direction this scene was heading in.
But before anyone could answer, Dave unzipped the bag with a flourish,
his curiosity too great to just let John return the bag to its owner
without taking a little peek inside. Immediately, his lover stepped
back, looking surprised and somewhat annoyed. But Dave ignored the
withering glance, stepping forward and leaning over to look inside the
bag.
"Wow," he murmured, gaping. He'd had his fair share of toys during sex
with previous partners, but even *he* didn't recognize some of the
things in this bag.
"My God," Susan giggled from his left.
"No one could actually use that," Abby stated, indicating one of the
items in the bag. She looked up at Dave. "Could they?"
"What is *that*?" Susan asked, diverting their attention to another
toy. "Is that a...?"
"Yeah, I think so," Abby replied, raising her eyebrows.
"What?" Luka asked, finally giving in to temptation as he leaned over
the bag and looked inside. His eyes widened as a smile crept across
his face. "Whoa..."
"Come on, guys," John jutted in, reaching for the bag. But even he
couldn't resist taking a glimpse. "Oh, God."
"No kidding," Susan deadpanned.
"What's this?" Abby asked, daring to reach inside the bag. "What's
this for?"
"No, don't touch that!" Dave exclaimed, but it was too late. The girls
shrieked and everyone backed up in surprise as a blowup doll, well,
blew up, inflating right before their eyes to lay spread-eagle on the
bag.
"That's disgusting," Abby commented as Dave began to snicker. She
threw him an accusatory glance. "Ew! You're disgusting!"
"Oh, come on!" Dave said, indicating the doll. "Just because I think
it's funny doesn't mean I've used one!"
"Yeah, right," she teased with a chuckle. She picked up the doll,
chucking it at an unsuspecting Michael. Poor kid had really had no
idea what he'd gotten himself into when applying at this hospital.
"Oh, look at this..." she continued, rummaging through the bag.
Dave followed suit, extracting a purple dildo and holding it up,
turning the vibrator on. His smile broadened at the thought of using
one of these on John, who was currently being chased around the room
by Susan in a strapped mask. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes. She was
*still* obviously pursuing him romantically, and it was a little
annoying. Not that it was really her fault...no one knew that John was
taken.
Before he could slip back down into that trail of thought, he turned
back to the dildo, about to put it down before he caught Luka's eye.
For a minute, he could swear something flashed across them, but it was
too quick for Dave to interpret. But he knew he didn't want to dwell
on it, so he quickly smiled and tossed the toy to the other man, who
caught it hastily with an equally as mischievous grin.
"So what do you think, guys?" Abby asked, and Dave turned to see her
wearing a chained necklace and holding a crop. "Should I quit my day
job?"
"Oh, definitely," Dave replied, before turning and bending over
slightly. "Hit me, please," he faux-whined.
"Someone's been a bad boy," she said with a pout, gently hitting him
with the crop.
"What the hell is going on in here?!"
"Dr. Weaver!" Dave almost shouted in surprise as he sprang up,
blushing profusely. Almost immediately, silence fell over the room as
the coworkers desperately tried not to look guilty. Abby put the crop
to her side, trying to hide it behind her leg; Luka quickly thrust the
dildo behind his back and out of sight; Susan and John stopped in
their tracks; and, finally, Michael let go of the blowup doll, whose
face landed right before his crotch. He kicked it aside fast, as Dave
broke the deafening silence with a cough and a lame: "We were just..."
"Getting yourselves into deep trouble?" she suggested, her ears red
with anger.
"Uh...yeah," he replied, nodding as he began rubbing the nape of his
neck. "That just about sums it up."
--------------------------------
We bit our lips
She looked out the window
Rolling tiny balls of napkin paper
I played a quick game of chess
With a salt and pepper shaker
--------------------------------
SEXUAL HARASSMENT: "Awareness, Prevention, & Intervention"
After completing this program, you will understand:
1. The definition of sexual harassment
2. The hospital's policy on sexual harassment
3. The components of the hospital's sexual harassment prevention
program
4. How to respect the needs and rights of all people in the workplace
5. How to avoid behaving in ways that might be interpreted as -
"This is so fucking bogus," Dave seethed from his place at the kitchen
table in Abby's apartment, crumpling up the brochure and tossing it
into the garbage. He picked up his coffee and took a sip, wrapping the
thin red blanket he was using as a makeshift robe tighter around
himself. It was early Saturday morning, and he would've been sleeping
in had it not been for this stupid sexual harassment seminar. It was
like high school detention all over again.
"It's your fault," Abby announced from across the table, where she was
eating the scrambled eggs he had made that morning for breakfast.
"You looked in it too!"
"You unzipped it!" she retorted, raising her eyebrows. They broke into
grins, and Dave was about to make a flippant comment when the doorbell
rang. His best friend glanced at him with apprehension. "Could you get
that? I'm going to change."
"Sure, it's probably John," he stated. Ever since moving back in to
her place last night, a week or so after announcing it at his
apartment, she'd been on edge, the slightest sound prompting her to
have him check it out. Once, as a joke, he'd pretended something had
happened and screamed, effectively startling her - *and* effectively
causing her to almost pummel him into the wall, letting him know with
a few colorful words that he wasn't funny.
"I swear to God, I'm going to kill you, Dave," she'd muttered, sitting
back down on the couch and grabbing another slice of pizza. "You're
not funny at all."
"So you've said," he replied, gently rubbing the bruise she'd left on
his arm. "Ow..."
She glanced at him guiltily. "I'm sorry."
"Are you sure you're ready to be back here?" he asked, ignoring her
apology.
"I *need* to be here, Dave," she stated. "I need to get on with my
life."
"Why do you need to get on with it here?" he asked, indicating the
apartment. "This place is a dump anyway."
"Thanks, Dave."
"No, I'm serious," he said, sitting up. "You could look for a new
apartment, I'll help. And you can stay with me and John until you find
one, we don't mind."
"*You* might not mind, but John sure does," she replied, putting her
legs up on the couch and stuffing her cold toes under Dave's thigh.
And, to his exasperated expression: "Dave, he practically did
*cartwheels* when I said I was leaving. And, truthfully, I don't blame
him. You two have a lot to work through, you don't need me getting in
the way. I understand completely."
"I don't," he said, annoyed. "Did he say something? Because if he did
- "
"No!" she exclaimed, holding up a hand and waving off his concern.
"John's been great, Dave, he really has. Now let me watch TV, you know
how much I love Rob Lowe." After about a half hour into the show, she
nudged him with her feet, and he glanced up at her. "They just made a
crack about Grenada, and you didn't even blink."
"Sorry, you know I don't really get into this show."
"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting up with concern. She could sense
his hesitation. "You know you can tell me anything."
"Will you be my sponsor?" he blurted out.
"What?" she asked, obviously surprised. "You have a sponsor."
"I know, but Josh is moving to L.A., and I need a new one," he stated,
almost desperately. "And I want it to be you."
"You know NA frowns on opposite sex sponsors," she replied, frowning
herself. "Besides...it didn't work out so well when I was John's
sponsor. I think you should find someone else."
"Come on, Abby," he pleaded. "Please? You don't know how hard it was
for me to ask some stranger to be my sponsor. I'm never going to be
able to do it again. Please, Abby? You're the perfect sponsor, you're
sober and strict and easy to talk to, you already know everything
about me, and you're really cute."
She grinned in spite of herself. "Okay, okay...just don't expect too
much from me, Dave. I'm far from perfect."
"Thanks, Abby," he said, grinning as well. He leaned over her legs to
give her a hug, before playfully mussing her hair as he pulled away.
"This'll be great, you'll see." She glanced off instead of replying.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she said, too quickly for his liking. "I'm just tired. I'm
going to go to bed. Let me get you some blankets and pillows."
He watched her move around the apartment, grabbing him the promised
blankets and pillows, checking the locks, using the bathroom, checking
the locks again. He said some flippant comment at one point or
another, but she brushed it off with a withering glance, causing him
to promptly shut up. Soon, he was asleep, his cat purring contently
next to his head (because he refused to leave the furface all alone at
his apartment), but the next thing he knew he was being jolted awake
by a sharp sound, sitting up and ready to spring into action.
"It's me," he heard, and squinted his eyes in the darkness to see Abby
sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. "I couldn't sleep.
I was just making some tea, want some?"
"Uh...sure," he replied, the adrenaline quickly fading so that he came
crashing back down into exhaustion. It'd taken him several tries to
get to sleep on this couch, especially since his senses were in
overdrive - Abby's own worry had been *extremely* contagious. "What
time is it?"
"Two am," she replied as he sat up, wrapping the blanket around
himself in an attempt to stay warm. "I'm sorry I woke you. I was
trying to check on you and I tripped."
"That's okay," he said, sitting down at the kitchen table. In silence,
they'd had their teas, Dave barely touching his since he wasn't much
of a tea person. He'd never really liked the stuff, he thought, as he
dumped his down the drain. "You ready to go back to bed?"
"I guess," she replied, hesitantly. Briefly he wondered if she'd had a
nightmare, but he didn't ask. "Listen, um...never mind."
"What is it?" he asked. "You know you can tell me anything."
A smile formed on her lips at the familiar words. "I just don't feel
like...being alone. I mean...would it be...weird if we...slept
together."
"Nope," he replied with a wink. She rolled her eyes. "I'm just
kidding, Abby, I'm kidding. It won't be weird. Not even if we get
naked, and..."
"Dave."
"Kidding!" They'd stayed on their separate sides of the bed, and Dave
had managed to doze until a small shriek woke him, startling him
effectively. "Abby, what's wrong? What is it??"
"Nothing, it's nothing," she'd replied, but he could see in the
moonlight creeping in that she was sitting up, holding herself. "It
was nothing."
"Abby, you're talking to *me* here," he'd said then, knowing the
several nights she'd *had* to have heard him wake up from a nightmare
back at his apartment. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," she stated quickly, almost harshly. "I don't. I just want to go
back to sleep. Okay??"
"Okay," he said, and watched her lay back down, silent for a few
moments until he could hear her crying softly. Gently, he reached out
and touched her back, and almost immediately she turned and moved into
his arms. He hadn't been expecting it, wasn't really used to
comforting people like this (it was, after all, one of the reasons why
he became an ER doctor), but he held her and stroked the back of her
head, doing as well as he knew how to make his friend feel better.
"It's okay, Abby. You don't have to worry, you're safe now. I'll never
let anything happen to you, I promise, I swear to God."
In the darkness, he felt her go still, go silent, and briefly he
wondered if she'd fallen asleep until
he felt her lips brushing against his. He pulled back, startled. "I'm
sorry," she said, moving away from him. "I'm sorry, Dave, I didn't
meant to - I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry."
"No, no, it's okay, Abby," he said, remembering the several times he'd
woken from a nightmare and had ended up having sex with John. It was
comforting to do something so wonderful and so...*normal* after being
scared to death. Suddenly, he realized how he must've made John feel
since they started sleeping together, but he pushed his guilt aside
and made room for the task at hand. "Abby, it's okay."
"God, I'm so sorry. Please don't be mad at me," she sobbed. "I'm such
a mess."
"Hey, you can't be *that* much of a mess if you think I'm sexy." It
seemed to have been the wrong thing to say, since she began to cry
harder. "I'm sorry. Abby, please don't cry. I don't know what to do."
"Just..." Quietly, she moved back into his arms, and he held her
tightly as he had before, until she was so exhausted she cried herself
to sleep. "Shit," he muttered, to no one. "I'm so sorry, Abby. I'm so
sorry..."
--------------------------------
And I could see clearly
An indelible line was drawn
Between what was good
What just slipped out
And what went wrong
--------------------------------
The doorbell ringing now several times in a row brought him out of his
thoughts and back into the present. "Are you going to get it?" Abby
asked from the hall.
"Yeah, just give me a minute," he said, with mock exasperation as he
made his way to the door. He swung it open quickly to see his lover
standing there, bundled up in a scarf and hat to ward off the cold
winter weather. Grinning broadly, he said: "Hey there, stranger. How
was work?"
"Hey, yourself," John replied with an equally as broad grin. "And it
was pretty slow." He stepped into the apartment, noting Dave's apparel
- or lack thereof, for that matter. "Did you...spend the night here?"
"Yeah," Dave replied, closing the door and locking it firmly. "By the
time we were finished moving everything back in it was pretty late,
and I could tell she didn't really want to spend her first night here
alone, so..."
"You slept on the couch?" John almost stated, but when he glanced at
it, it seemed as if it hadn't even been *sat* on, let alone slept on.
And when he turned back to his lover, Dave's eyes were cast to the
floor, one hand at the nape of his neck, scratching nervously. John
leaned in close, whispering so that Abby wouldn't hear. "You slept in
her bed?? Fuck! Dave..."
"And then we had rampant sex for the rest of the night," he retorted,
exasperated. "Come on, John. Let up. You know I'd never cheat on you,
and I'm insulted you even consider it."
"I thought my jealousy was sexy?" John asked, angry. "Who wouldn't be
jealous of their own boyfriend sleeping with someone else?"
"I didn't sleep with her!" Dave exclaimed, perhaps a little louder
than he should have. Quickly, he quieted. "I didn't sleep with her. We
slept in the same bed but nothing happened. We're friends, John, you
know that! And your 'jealousy' might be sexy, but it's really annoying
too, especially when I'm not doing anything even remotely suspicious
to make you think - "
"You don't think that sleeping half naked with someone else is
suspicious?"
"It's Abby!"
"Fine!" John snapped. "Tonight I'm going to spend the night at
Susan's!"
"That's different!"
"How?"
"Because Susan is interested in you romantically, and this is Abby
we're talking about!"
"I don't care if we're talking about Dr. Weaver!" John snapped. "You
spent the night at a woman's house."
"You knew I was bisexual when we started," Dave retorted. "So I can't
spend the night at *anyone's* house without you accusing me of
cheating on you? Thanks for the good faith. Abby and I are just
friends, and unless you have some *real* reason to be suspicious, then
I suggest you - "
Before Dave could finish his sentence Abby emerged from the other
room. "Dave??" she called from the bedroom before stepping out into
the hall, wearing nothing but a small towel that didn't nearly cover
enough skin. "Did you see what I did with that black bra after I took
it off last night? Oh, hi, John."
"Hey, Abby." John smiled thinly, before turning to Dave, whose face
was the same red color as the sheet wrapped around him. "What were you
saying?"
--------------------------------
Oh, the way she feels about me has changed
Thanks for playing, try again
How could I forget?
Mama said, "Think before speaking..."
No filter in my head
Oh, what's a boy to do?
I guess he'd better find one soon
--------------------------------
"This is going to be a very long day."
Now, Dave Malucci didn't agree on much with a certain Dr. Susan Lewis,
but at that moment he could swear that no truer words had ever escaped
her lips. John was not only upset with him (for a very stupid reason,
by the way), but had decided to take it out on everyone else and sulk,
making this classroom almost unbearable as they waited for their late
teacher. So far, Dave had taken everything in stride, but he swore if
one more crass remark left John's mouth he was going to really give
him a piece of his mind.
The most annoying thing to Dave, however, was the reason *why* John
was upset with him. So he'd spent the night at Abby's apartment, big
deal. For the past *month* she'd been living with them, and she and
Dave had been alone several nights when John worked the night shift.
What was the difference now? Did John really trust Dave that little?
Sure, they'd slept together in her bed, but it'd been more reminiscent
of a slumber part with Miranda as compared to one with Steven. And
while it might just have been John's possessive side showing, it was a
little overbearing and no longer "sexy" at this point.
"He's a test pilot for Barcalounger," broke him away from his
thoughts, catching his interest. He glanced up at Susan curiously.
"Basically, he sits on his ass all day in front of the TV trying to
get his cholesterol level above four hundred."
The room burst into laughter, although Dave remained slightly confused
before he heard Gallant ask Luka: "What does your father do, Dr.
Kovac?"
"My father's a painter," he replied. "Not houses. Art. Abstracts
mostly. He's good."
"Really?" John asked, just as intrigued as everyone in the room.
"Not that he's ever made a living at it," Luka admitted then. "He's a
train conductor in Zagreb, so that pays the bills."
"I didn't know that," Dave said, turning to look at Luka since the
older man was seated in a desk behind him and to his right. Luka just
shrugged, shooting him a rather impish grin, and Dave smiled too. He
barely registered Gallant piping up. "Huh?"
"I asked you what your father does for a living."
"Uh..." Dave stammered for a moment, surprised by the statement.
Finally, he managed to get out: "He's dead."
There was an awkward silence, until Michael broke it with a quiet:
"Sorry to hear that,"
"Don't be," Dave blurted out before he could stop himself. Hastily, he
added: "I mean, you know...I'm over it. What did you say your father
did?"
"He's an Army man, like me," he replied, rather proudly. "What about
you, Abby?"
"I have absolutely no idea what my father's doing," she stated,
somewhat smiling, as if it were almost incredulous she'd know
otherwise.
"And you, Dr. Carter?"
The man in question shifted in his seat. Once, Dave and he had had a
conversation about just how rich he was, but the older man had told
him he honestly didn't know. "Guess," Dave had urged, but even then he
played innocent. He had to at least give John props for being modest,
even if he wasn't modestly wealthy. Which they soon discovered - it
seemed as if his boyfriend was richer than God.
"How'd you manage to last this long without some girl marrying you?"
Abby teased, smiling.
John laughed, almost humorlessly. He was obviously, at least to Dave,
pretty uncomfortable with the topic. "My Gamma installed a gold-digger
alarm in all of us at birth."
"No one's set it off yet?" Dave asked jokingly, knowing John could
read the subtext -- *he* hadn't set it off yet? "You'd better have
that thing checked."
"You know, growing up in a mansion doesn't equal a perfect life," John
retorted, obviously missing Dave's teasing manor.
"Why?" Susan asked. "Gamma too cheap to heat the pool?"
"Money isn't everything, Susan," he retorted.
"That's easy for you to say," she stated. "You *had* it."
"Why do you assume that just because he grew up rich he was happy?"
Dave jutted in, slightly annoyed. "Not to say that he *wasn't*, but
that's a huge typecast. As a doctor, you should know better."
"Thanks, Mom," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "I'm just saying, money
makes things *easier*."
"Not when..." Dave began, but the door to the classroom opened,
revealing a professionally dressed woman looking rather frazzled. He
considered that she must've been having a hard day, when she said: "Is
this the sexual harassment group?"
He was the first to pipe up, grinning as he glanced at everyone before
turning back to the woman. "Yep...just us sexual harassers. Can we do
something for you?"
She seemed almost startled by his response, as if they might sexually
harass *her*. "Uh...no...I thought I'd let you know that Dr. Taylor
has run into some car trouble, but he should be here soon." And then,
she left, almost as abruptly as she'd arrived.
"Great," John said under his breath, leaning back in his seat. He was
sick and tired of sitting in this classroom with his coworkers and
medical student, wanting to be anywhere but here. He just wished he
could curl up in bed with Dave, but even if they left that was
unlikely. He was still a little more than annoyed with the younger man
for pulling that stunt with Abby. Really, what was he thinking? That
he could just share a bed with anyone? John wasn't going around
sleeping next to Susan, or Dr. Weaver, or even Abby. And he was sure
if he did, Dave wouldn't take it that well either. Which was why he
didn't understand Dave's own annoyance...couldn't he put himself in
John's shoes?
Restless, he stood, stepping down to the main floor and coming across
a door. He was too curious not to open it (besides the fact that he
was more bored than he ever remembered being his entire life), but
when he tried the knob he discovered it was locked. Swiftly, he fished
inside his wallet and pulled out a credit card.
"What're you doing?" he heard Dave ask from behind him.
"This worked in college when I locked myself out of my dorm," he
replied, slipping it between the door and the jamb, preparing to jimmy
it open.
"How?" Dave asked. "To pay a locksmith?"
"You're very funny, Dave," John muttered.
"Seriously, John," he cautioned. "I don't think that you should open
that."
"Gee, where have I heard that before?" he wondered, his words from
earlier in the week coming back to him, when he'd specifically told
the other man not to open the bag of toys.
"Stop being such an asshole," Dave snapped. "You could've left the
room. No one forced you to stay. So stop trying to blame everybody
else for your own problem."
"Oh, *I'm* an asshole?" John asked, turning to look at him, and Dave
smirked haughtily at knowing John ignored the topic. "Stop smirking,
you arrogant jerk."
"What??" Dave retorted, ready to stand.
"Guys!" Abby piped up, causing them both to stop. "Enough. This place
is already unbearable without you two arguing."
John rolled his eyes, ignoring Abby as he continued to try to get the
door open. He concentrated hard, trying to get that damn lock open if
only to prove that he could. Besides, a conversation about "Waiting
for Godot" wasn't exactly his cup of tea. But his ears picked up on
what Luka was now saying, as if he wrote the play, John thought
sarcastically. "It's about the futility of life. We're all waiting for
- what? Fulfillment, love, validation, approval. It's a waste of time.
Life is an empty, hollow exercise filled with pain, loss and grief,
and the only thing we can expect to achieve in our lives is our own
inevitable death."
"You forgot taxes." That, from Dave, and John could hear the grin in
his voice.
"Wow," Susan said then. "That is the most depressing thing I've ever
heard."
"Aren't you glad you didn't grow up in the Balkans?" John couldn't
help but ask, his voice edged with sarcasm and exasperation.
"Croatia is beautiful," Luka stated rather calmly, heightening John's
annoyance. "Zagreb, Dubrovnik - you should go."
"Yeah, kind of a high chance of getting blown up, though," John
snapped, before he could stop himself. "Always discourages me from
adding a country to my travel itinerary."
"It's very safe now," Luka stated, and John was satisfied to hear an
edge in his voice.
"Then why are you here??"
Silence, and John, with his back still to the others, smirked. But it
disappeared as soon as he heard Dave's voice, also edged. "What makes
you think he left because of the war? Why don't you stop pissing on
everyone today, okay, John??"
He turned, glancing sharply at Dave, wanting to yell but knowing he
couldn't. The other man just rolled his eyes, as if John was the one
acting incredulous. Was he the one who spent the night at a woman's
house? Was he the one acting a little too friendly with Luka?? Was he
the one -
"Barbecue," Luka suddenly said, smiling. "I left because of barbecue.
You just can't find good ribs in Zagreb, you know?"
John agreed, just then, that Susan had been *very* right. Today *was*
going to be an *extremely* long day...
--------------------------------
I'm never speaking up again
It only hurts me
I'd rather be a mystery
Than she desert me
Oh, I'm never speaking again
Starting now
--------------------------------
Sword fighting in the middle of a goddamned classroom. Who'd heard of
a thing so ridiculous? Obviously John and Luka had, who were standing
at the front of the room trying to kill each other with their epees,
striking each other as if it didn't matter they had on no protection
whatsoever. John had found the equipment in the closet he'd managed to
break into with a penknife supplied by Michael, and almost immediately
the two men couldn't help challenge each other to a swordfight.
Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
"You think they're trying to impress us?" Susan asked, watching the
men.
Abby smirked, leaning close to Dave as she whispered into his ear: "If
you ask me, I think they're trying to impress *you*."
"If they are, it's not working," Dave whispered back to her. And he
knew he should be flattered, but he was too busy worrying that someone
was going to get seriously injured. With a nervous hand covering his
mouth, he stated, "This can't end well. And at the very least it's
going to leave a mark."
As if on cue, John nearly speared Luka in the chest, and the Croatian
doctor stepped back with a hiss.
"Ouch!" Susan exclaimed, grimacing herself. "Doesn't that hurt?" But
her words went ignored as John took off his sweatshirt and Luka rolled
up his sleeves. She shrugged. "I guess not..."
"They really are a couple of freaks," Abby lamented with a smirk.
"And to think you slept with both of them!" Susan said, chuckling.
Dave, who was seated between the two women, raised his eyebrows,
glancing at Abby. "Uh oh," Susan went on. "Sorry, Dave...you didn't
know?"
"Susan," Dave said, his voice almost laced with exasperation. "Abby
and I...we aren't seeing each other."
"You broke up??"
"No," Abby clarified. "We were *never* seeing each other. Somebody
started the rumor, and it was just easier to go with it...you know
once they start there's no stopping them."
"Oh...wow," Susan stated, leaning back in her chair. "I mean...it
*looked* like you two were together. You guys are just friends?"
"Friends with 'benefits,'" Dave piped up, an impish grin on his face.
Abby smacked him on his arm, and he chuckled as he ducked away from
her. "I'm just kidding! I'm kidding, we've never slept with each
other."
"I never slept with Carter either," Abby said quickly. "Did he tell
you that?"
"I thought you two had dated," Susan said, her words curling into a
question. "At least that's what I *heard*, but I'm not too sure what
to believe anymore."
"No," Abby said, smiling almost incredulously at the implication as
she shook her head. "That was a rumor Carter started."
"Oh, God, he is low!" Susan exclaimed quietly, chuckling softly. She
suddenly glanced at them, asking, "Is he seeing anyone??"
Dave cocked a brow, glancing at her curiously. "Why? You interested?"
He figured he might as well be blunt...it wasn't as if she would infer
anything from it except mere curiosity.
"I don't know..." Susan said, but the blush in her cheeks told them
otherwise. "I mean...he used to have a crush on me when he was in
medical school, and...I think I used to have crush on him too."
"Used to?" Dave asked, glancing at her and meeting her eye.
She opened her mouth to reply when a sudden yelp was heard, and they
all quickly turned to see John grasping his arm and gritting his
teeth. Next, Luka could be heard, saying with the smallest hint of a
smile: "Are you okay? If you're hurt, we should stop."
"I'm fine," John stated haughtily, and there were mutual eye rolls
amongst the audience at the two men's ridiculous behavior. Once more,
they began to parry, but this time with a new intensity that
definitely *wasn't* going to end well. And then everything was a
flurry of motion: John striking Luka in the back, Luka bringing up his
epee to lash out at John's, Luka striking John in the face and drawing
blood, a shriek from the women and a gasp from the men as Luka turned
and John charged at him, fists swinging before he even reached the
other man. Next thing they new, both men were on the floor, wrestling
and fighting each other with all they had.
"Hey!!" Dave yelled, as he ran to the two flailing doctors, hooking
his arms under John's and pulling him off of Luka. "Stop it! Both of
you stop!!"
"You maniac!" Luka yelled, before muttering in Croatian. "Mali seronja
je popizdijia!"
"You went for my face!!" John spat, resisting Dave's attempts to get
him away from Luka.
"After you hacked at me!" Luka retorted, getting off of the floor with
Abby's assistance. She brought him to one side of the room as Dave
dragged his boyfriend to another, roughly sitting him down in a chair.
"Crazy bastard," John seethed, glaring at him while Dave pulled a desk
close to his so he could examine the cut on his face. "He could've
killed me!" Dave rolled his eyes, choosing not to comment as he
carefully wiped away blood with a tissue Susan handed him before she
moved over to Luka and Abby. "Will I need stitches?"
"You barely need a Band-Aid," Dave replied, his voice laced with
exasperation. He followed John's line of sight, saying, "I can have
Dr. Lewis come and check you out, if you prefer."
"What?" John asked, annoyed. "What's that supposed to mean? You know
that man is a menace. I could've lost my eye."
Dave sat back in his chair, sighing as he glanced at Luka. The other
man met his eye, glared, and then turned away, speaking to the women.
Dave furrowed his brow immediately...they'd just been getting along so
well, what happened? Was it because he'd chosen to help John and not
Luka? John was, after all, Dave's boyfriend, a fact that Luka knew.
And, lately, Dave had thought that Luka was finally dealing with that,
and that they were finally becoming friends. He sat on that question
for a while, until the group's conversation began to pique his
interest once more.
"Luka, how old were you when you became a man?" Dave glanced up from
the magazine he was reading, surprised by the question that had flown
out of the blue from Abby's mouth. He glanced at Luka, who was equally
as baffled.
"When you lost your virginity," Susan piped up, turning in her seat to
look at him. "How old were you?"
"We're playing a game to see who lost their virginity first," Abby
stated, grinning. "Susan picked you."
"I did not!" Susan exclaiming, laughing. "So when did you lose your
virginity??"
"I'm not playing," Luka quickly said, flushing as he leaned back in
his seat.
"Okay, I'll go first," Abby declared. "I was sixteen, and his name was
Howie Thomas. I was terrified, so was he - it was the longest twenty
seconds of my life!"
"Twenty seconds, huh?" Dave asked, grinning broadly.
"If you count foreplay. What about you?"
"I was thirteen," he stated, stealing a glance at John, who was
watching curiously. "She was seventeen...her name was Melissa, but I
can't remember her last name." He glanced off. "Or was it Stephanie?
We did it in the back of her car. Maybe it was Melissa..."
Abby rolled her eyes good-naturedly, before Susan began speaking: "I
was fifteen. His name was Lloyd Walker, and we did it in the shed
behind my father's radiator-repair shop. What about you, Michael?"
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, although he was smiling. "Give
it up!" Dave said, grinning broadly. Teasingly, he exclaimed, "Oh, my
God, he's still a virgin!"
"I was fourteen," he stated then. "It was...on the balcony of my
church, after choir practice."
"Wow..." Abby said, just as Dave let out a low whistle. "That's
impressive! What about you, Carter?"
"No, I'm not falling for this one," he stated, holding up his hands in
mock-defense.
"Come on, Carter," Dave urged, his eyebrows raised. "Let's hear it."
The other man hesitated only briefly before rolling his eyes, glancing
off as he replied: "I was eleven."
"Eleven??" Abby gaped, just as equally surprised as everyone else in
the room. "Who with??"
"One of the maids," he said reluctantly. "She was twenty-five."
"Twenty-*five*??" Dave blurted out, before he could stop himself. "And
you were *eleven*??"
"Hope you gave her a hell of a Christmas bonus," Susan stated,
snickering. Dave glanced at her, almost incredulous that she could
joke about something like that, but when he looked back to John, the
other man was actually smiling. He wasn't sure what to make of
it...all he knew was that a twenty-five-year-old having sex with an
eleven-year-old was *wrong*...except John didn't look
too...traumatized. Why hadn't he told Dave about that? Dave had told
him absolutely everything, and he meant *everything*. And John
couldn't tell him about that? And, by the looks of things, John was
looking pretty guilty, as if he knew exactly what Dave was thinking.
"Eleven," Susan stated, breaking Dave away from his thoughts. "It's
going to be very tough to beat."
"You don't have to say what age you were," Abby said. "Just that you
were older than Carter so we award him with the prize."
"I get a prize?" John asked, grinning.
"Yeah," Susan said.
"What's is it?"
"We can't tell you." That, from Abby.
"Why?"
"Because we haven't thought about it yet," Susan replied, laughing.
"My wedding night." Softly, from Luka, whom everyone immediately
looked to. And, just as softly, he continued, "I lost my virginity on
my wedding night." The room was filled with an awkward silence, until
Luka went on. "It's okay - it's a good memory. I hadn't thought about
that in years...we were very young, and she was religious, so we
waited. We loved each other very much." He grinned, when there was
still silence. "It's okay, it's okay."
Everyone looked at each other, both ashamed of their behavior and awed
at the couple's devotion to each other. And, after several moments of
silence and nodding of heads: "Maybe her name *was* Stephanie," Dave
blurted out quickly, to break the unease. His statement almost seemed
to startle those in the room out of their reverie. He flashed a grin.
"There are entirely too many...you can't expect me to remember *all*
their names, do you?"
And there was only more silence for a fraction of a second until the
entire room broke into laughter.
--------------------------------
One more thing
Why's it my fault?
So maybe I tried too hard
But it's all because of this desire
I just want to be liked
I just want to be funny
Looks like the joke's on me
So call me Captain Backfire
--------------------------------
John Carter made his way down the front steps of the building, Susan
Lewis at his side. They stepped out onto the snow, pausing at the
front of the building before they were to say goodbye to each other.
Plus, as much as he didn't want to, John had to wait for Dave. After
all, he'd driven him here, it wouldn't be right to just make him walk
home, especially in the dark. It couldn't be safe.
"You know, I didn't think I'd like them, but I do," Susan suddenly
admitted, and continued at the confusion in John's expression. "Abby
and Dave. Did you know they aren't even dating??"
John smiled in spite of himself. "Who told you that?"
"Dave," she stated, almost exasperated. "Did you know? You knew!! Way
to leave me in the dark..."
"Sorry," he apologized, surprised at the thrill that ran through him
after hearing that Dave objected to the rumors of he and Abby that
still abounded at the hospital. "You, uh...what do you think about
him?"
"He's surprisingly nice, once you get past all the bullshit," she
replied, grinning. "I can see why you two are best friends. But I
think you might owe him an apology for acting like a jerk to him
today."
"I was acting like a jerk?" John asked, but he knew it was true. She
tossed him a look that told him the same thing. "All right...so maybe
I was - a *little*. But he was a jerk first, you just weren't there
when we were back at Abby's apartment."
She rolled her eyes, chuckling. "You're hopeless."
"What can I say?" he asked with a shrug, grinning. "I'm a guy."
--------------------------------
I'm never speaking up again
It only hurts me
I'd rather be a mystery
Than she desert me
--------------------------------
Dave stretched out his limbs as he got out of his desk, feeling an
awful lot like he'd just had Saturday detention. He could remember the
times he'd gotten into trouble at school (mostly his senior year), and
had to go, sitting in that damn classroom for four hours straight
doing absolutely nothing except work. It at least gave him a chance to
get his homework for the weekend done, while this seminar had had
absolutely no point. Did the Chief honestly think they didn't know how
to act properly in the work place? Okay, so maybe playing with all
those toys hadn't been the brightest idea they'd ever had, but
still...
"Anybody need a ride home?" Luka asked, as he began to move towards
the door. Susan and John had already left together - surprise,
surprise, Dave thought to himself - and now all that remained were
Luka, Abby, Michael and himself.
"I might need one, considering," Dave joked, but the only reply he
received from the other man was as cold shoulder. Abby glanced at him,
but he only shrugged helplessly. Even she, apparently, didn't know
what had just changed.
"I'm on in twenty, I'm just going to walk," Abby stated.
"Me too," Michael chimed in. "I'll walk you there."
"Great," she said, and began to walk out the door. "We'll see you both
later."
Once everyone had said their goodbyes, Luka began to follow the two
out until Dave placed a tentative hand on his arm, saying, "Could we
talk for a minute, Luka?"
"There's nothing to talk about," was the harsh reply he received. "I'm
going home."
"Luka, wait, okay?" Dave pleaded, and was relieved when the other man
complied, no matter how hard his expression was. At least he was going
to listen. "What happened? Why are you mad at me? I finally thought we
were getting along, and now suddenly you hate my guts."
"I do not," he said, brushing him off. "It is nothing like that."
"Then what is it??" Dave asked, his voice slightly raised. "What did I
do to make you hate me so much?? Did I do something at work? Is it
John? Is it because of John??"
"No, I told you, it isn't like that," Luka said, and Dave let out a
sigh of desperation. "Dave, it's complicated."
"Then explain it to me."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't explain it."
"*Try*."
"I..." Luka trailed off, turning slightly to leave, but then he turned
back, staring at Dave for a long minute before grabbing his shoulders
and doing the last thing Dave would have ever expected him to do.
He kissed him.
Brusquely, Dave pushed him away, taking a few steps back and out of
the other man's personal space. "What the hell??"
"*That's* why," he replied, his voice edged with anger. He quickly
closed the space between himself and Dave, placing his hand on the
back of the younger man's neck to hold him there. Startled, Dave
allowed him to do it, allowed himself to be forced to remain there,
meeting Luka's gaze. "It is because you don't remember."
"I don't understand," he stammered.
"When you overdosed, and you went missing," Luka began, "where did you
go? Where do you think you went?"
"I don't remember," he stated, but he wasn't sure if he wanted Luka to
refresh his memory.
"You came to *me*...you came to my apartment," he stated, his face
only inches from Dave's. "It must mean something, Dave. You came to me
because you needed me. You didn't go to Abby, or the hospital, not
even Carter. You came to *me*. You needed me. You *love* me."
"What??" he asked, startled at both the revelation and the fact that
he could love Luka. "Luka, I don't...I love John."
"Then why did you come to my apartment?" he asked, almost desperately.
"Why did you kiss me? Yes, Dave. *You* kissed *me*. And then do you
know what you did?? Do you know what you did after that??"
"I told you I don't remember!"
"You pleasured me, Dave."
"What does that mean, Luka??" he asked, feeling the panic creep up on
him in the back of his mind. "What does that mean!"
"You went down on me, Dave," he clarified, his hand moving to gently
touch the side of Dave's face. "You went down on me. That proves it.
You trust me, and you love me."
"You're a fucking liar," Dave spat, his voice shaking as he brushed
away Luka's hand. "I would never do that. I would *never* do that."
"I would just make something like that up out of thin air?" he
retorted, suddenly angry. He reached out and grabbed the wrist of the
hand Dave had used to brush his away. "You're the liar, Dave. You do
things, and you tell me things, and you lied to me."
"I was overdosing!!" he exclaimed, hearing the desperation in his own
voice. "How was I to know anything that was going on!? I love John,
Luka, not you! That was a mistake, whatever happened was a mistake.
You were a mistake the first time, and you were a mistake the last
time. So shut the fuck up, and keep your mouth fucking closed. Now let
me go, Luka, you're hurting me."
"You're wrong," he stated, pushing Dave away so hard the younger man
nearly lost his balance. "You're the one who does the hurting." The
utter sadness in his voice made Dave glance up, just in time to see
the hurt in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, anything,
but the words wouldn't come.
"Is something wrong?" Both men turned to see John standing in the
doorway, looking somewhat confused and slightly anxious. How much had
he heard, Dave wondered in panic, but if he'd heard anything, surely
he'd be more angry and less perplexed. And, when he didn't get a
reply: "Is everything okay??"
"Everything is fine," Luka stated as evenly as he could, though there
was an edge to his tone. "I was just getting ready to leave."
"Dave?" John asked, hesitantly. The younger man glanced at his
boyfriend, nodding, although he wasn't sure why. "Everything's all
right?"
"Yeah...everything's fine," he stated, nodding again, all the while
wondering just what the fuck he was supposed to do now.
--------------------------------
Oh, I'm never speaking up again
I'm never speaking up again
I'm never speaking up again
Starting now
--------------------------------
To be continued...
Copyright Footer', 'This site is not affiliated in any way with "ER", its writers or production company, or NBC, and makes no profit from the show. The ERROS skin is by Brihana. The script is eFiction version 3.4.2© Tammy Keefer, http://efiction.org\r\n