Come Undone


AUTHOR: The She Devil~>
EMAIL: SheDevl54@lycos.com
CATEGORY: Romance. Fluff. All that good stuff.
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: When I take over "ER," but until then, none.
DISCLAIMER: Disclaimer. Dis.. claimer. *Dis*claimer. Good.
SUMMARY: When a little crush turns into something more. Quite simply, what happens when two people like each other and decide to act upon it.



---------------- Chapter One: Infatuation Proclamation ----------------


I'm not exactly sure what it is about him that drives me crazy. I've tried to figure it out several times before, but each time I attempt to dissect him mind, body and soul, I come up with nothing. Perhaps it is no single thing but all of his parts that makes the whole. I don't know anything about him except what I can see: a nice smile, good looks, charm and cheesy pick-up lines. And it somehow seems pathetic to me that those things alone can draw me in. I mean, I can find those qualities in a guy who's looking for a good lay inside the bar down the street from County General.

So why do I have such a crush on him? Yes, after so many nights spent in my bathtub smoking a cigarette over this, I'm finally admitting it: I have a crush on Dr. Dave. But why? Maybe it's because I like the attention he gives me, openly hitting on me in front of everyone at Admin, even the nosy nurses. I'm mature enough not to take him seriously, but there's always that thought in the back of my mind: what if, what if?

But that doesn't explain my infatuation with the man. What is it about him that I love so much? You know, it might actually help if I knew something about him. Sure, I could tell you that Dr. Weaver tried to fire him with everything she had, but he still managed to keep his job here at County, a big "fuck you and the system," if you ask me. Sure, I could tell you that he has a daughter, but what's her name? How old is she? And sure, I could tell you that he's a resident and went to medical school in Grenada, but how did he end up at County? See, I couldn't answer any of those questions, and for some reason, that upsets me.

So is that why? Because he's the typical tall-dark-and-handsome mysterious type? And what happens if I do get to know him and he's no longer mysterious? Will my crush dissipate, or will it only grow, turning into some full-blown, passionate affair that I can only find in the novels that I read in those long evenings in the tub? With his reputation around here, I can assure anyone that it would certainly be a passionate affair, though I'm not sure about the full-blown part. I'd probably be just another one-night stand, another notch on his bedpost. But is that really so bad?

There he is right now, standing at the patient board, signing his name and the patient and what room he'll be in. He's wearing those jeans that are tight around the seat and allow an eyeful for the female staff, including myself. As he pushes the board back into the ceiling, his scrub top strains against his biceps, and that lovely tattoo makes a short appearance before he moves down the hallway, gliding with each step as if he owns the place.

My mind briefly takes note of what room he walks in before I'm caught. "If your mouth was open any further, I'd swear you have a medical problem that needs to be checked out. And I know the perfect doctor for the job."

I quickly close my jaw and shoot a playful glare at Abby, who's smiling broadly as she places charts down next to me. "I was not checking him out."

"Sure, you were," she replies. She looks in his direction and leans over to me, and whispers, "Well, why wouldn't you be checking him out, if you know what I mean?" She then indicates the charts. "I need you to sign these. Hey, you know the County General banquet is coming up. Who are you taking?"

Don't think I didn't note that glint of mischief in her eyes as she asked. But I play innocent, looking down at the charts as I sign them one by one, glancing over them briefly before putting my name to them. "I'm not even sure if I'm going."

"I specifically remember you telling me you're not working," Abby reminds me, picking up the charts in her arms as soon as I'm finished. She would naturally know something like that, being that since the sexual harassment seminar, we've become very good friends. I also know that she isn't working this Friday, and that she's going to the banquet with Dr. Carter, my recent ex. Abby starts to walk away from me, but she turns back momentarily, grinning. "You'll never know if you don't ask him."

I roll my eyes and turn back to my chart, which I was conveniently completing near Dave, but now that the view is gone, I have no reason to be here. I gather my charts and head towards the Lounge, ready to finish them there, alone, with no distractions. But at the last moment I think better of it and find myself heading towards Sutures, where one specific young doctor had just entered to sew up an unconscious drunk. Romantic, I know, but what's a girl to do?

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Before entering Sutures, I take a moment to just watch him from the doorway. He's sitting on a stool near the patient's head, sewing a large laceration on their forehead, one probably gained when passing out. His brow is creased in concentration, as he carefully watches what he is doing, his hands moving swiftly, deftly, indicating that he has had much practice in this specific area, but I briefly wonder if maybe he's just very good at it.

I knock softly on the doorframe, and he turns to look at me, a smile immediately growing on his lips. "Dr. Lewis. What can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering if I could bother you with something," I say, as I enter the room, and he turns back towards his patient to continue suturing. I hug the charts to my chest as I lean against the side of the patient's bed, studying his features: his full lips, his tousled hair that he finally cut, his well-toned build. He glances up expectantly, waiting for me to continue. "Uh…that annual banquet that the hospital's holding in O'Dea Hall this Friday, I was thinking of going stag, but it might be more fun if I had a date…so, do you want to go with me?"

"Uh…thanks, Dr. Lewis, but…"

"No! You don't have to go with me if you don't want to," I interject, feeling so stupid right about now. I knew this was a bad idea, I just knew it! And now the face of rejection rears its ugly head. "I mean, you probably already have one…"

"No," he says, and a smirk appears on his face, as he appears to be smug. I pause momentarily, wondering what he would find so funny. It wasn't my apparent embarrassment, was it? God, if it was I'd, quite simply, die. "See, I didn't think I'd have one, so I signed up to work…I'm sorry, Dr. Lewis. If it's any consolation, if I wasn't working I would've gone with you."

"Sorry," I apologize, feeling even more stupid than I previously did. Great, so now he thinks I'm a desperate jerk that hasn't gotten laid in months - which, pathetically, is so true. "Um…I guess I'll see you later, then."

Turning to leave, he stops me, taking my arm in his hand. I look down at him, his brown eyes staring into my own. "What are you doing at 2am?"

"Friday?" I ask, a puzzled smile on my face.

"Yeah," he replies, and I realize that even though I am not going anywhere, he still hasn't taken his hand off of my arm. "I'm off at 2am. We could rent a movie and watch it at my place, or something. I mean, only if you want to." My hesitation is only brief, but he still catches it. "Come on. I might just surprise you."

My puzzled smile turns into a pleasant one. "That sounds great."

"Why don't you call me tonight, and we can work out the details?" he asks, and only then removes his hand from my arm once he has to write down his number on a prescription pad. He tears the sheet away from the pad, handing it to me, and I allow my fingers to brush over his. "I'm off at 7, so just call me any time after that."

"Sure," I reply casually, folding up the paper after glancing at it briefly, before walking away as if I owned the place, which is how I certainly feel right now.

I can see him smiling broadly in the reflection on the glass of the Suture Room door, but the only thing I can think to myself is: Susan, what on Earth are you doing??

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