Copyright: This story is copyrighted to the author © November 1999 by Revan. Do not use any part of this story without my written permission. Contact: Revan3@hotmail.com

Disclaimers: See Part 1 for standard disclaimers.

Bryn was wide awake the moment her alarm went off at six a.m. No problem getting up today. It was Patriot’s Day--the third Monday in April, a state holiday in Massachusetts. It was Marathon Day.

I feel like a kid getting ready for the first day of school. She was happy and excited, and let herself savor the feelings. Pulling back the curtains, she glanced out the window. The sky was cloudless, a brilliant blue.

Great. The weather man on TV had predicted a chilly start to the day, but it would warm quickly, to a high of almost 70 degrees. The real runners will be unhappy...that’s far too hot. But it’ll be great for me. She knew she would slow down a lot by the end, and when it was cold, or rainy, she always suffered. The year it hailed...what a bitch.

She stretched for a bit, then showered, using the warm water to continue loosening her muscles. The real warm-up would come much later; the race didn’t start until noon. First she had to get downtown, to catch the bus from the Hynes Convention Center. Wow, I can’t believe I’ve got a number this year...I actually get to take the bus. All the other years she had begged rides from friends to get to the start, in the rural town of Hopkinton, twenty-six miles west of Boston. That was always a pain in the ass.

Shorts...singlet...number. Bryn pinned it on carefully. Some day, I’ll actually qualify for one of these. She laughed at the thought. When hell freezes over. I’m in the best shape of my life, and I’m still not fast enough. She shook her head. Well, it was for a good cause; there had been a party the previous week, and the hospital runners had met some of the pediatric cancer patients who would be out on the course, cheering for them. That was nice.

She put on her sweats and checked her gear. Vaseline...sunscreen. Where are the bandaids? OK... Snacks...water...newspaper...gloves. All set. She double-tied her laces, tied back her hair, and with a final deep breath, set out.

By eight o’clock, Bryn was getting on one of the buses downtown. This is just ridiculously exciting. The atmosphere was charged, with thousands of runners milling about, some silent, others overly talkative, comparing tips, personal records--real and imagined--and strategies for the upcoming race.

Bryn found herself sitting next to a balding man in his late forties who had a body that could have belonged to a greyhound. She blinked. Would he be visible if he turned sideways? She wasn’t sure. Digging through her bag, she unearthed her ritual pre-race bagel and began to eat it.

The man next to her was staring. Pissed, Bryn stared back. "What?"

Greyhound pursed his lips and shook his head. "I never eat anything before the race. It weighs me down...makes me cramp. I’m much faster on an empty stomach."

Bryn raised her eyebrow and regarded her bagel with interest. Should I ignore him or be really bitchy? She decided that negative emotions might be too draining, and took an intermediate tack. "Is that so?"

He nodded, motivated by what he perceived as her interest. "Yes, I’ve read all the latest scientific papers...my diet the last three weeks has been extremely carefully controlled." He scanned her body. "What’s your body fat ratio?"

"Huh?" Bryn laughed so hard, she blew bagel crumbs all over the seat. "Actually, I don’t give a damn." I’m not interested in looking like an anorexic greyhound. She grinned to herself. This could be fun.

The man looked disapproving. "You’ll never set a PR with that kind of attitude. What’s your time?"

Bryn shrugged. Nonchalance...that will piss him off. "It’s hard to say...I’ve never run a marathon as an official entrant."

Greyhound looked shocked. "But...how did you qualify for this race?" He looked at her, suddenly suspicious.

What, you think I sneaked onto the bus? Pompous ass. "I got a number by raising money for the pediatric oncology service at our hospital here in town."

The look that she got was priceless. Wow, I’ve never been treated like a leper before. He shifted as far away as possible and opened his newspaper. She was clearly no longer worth his attention. Good move, Greyhound. If you sit too close you might inhale some of these bagel crumbs, and god knows what the calories might do to you.

They were passing the Newton exit on the Massachusetts Turnpike, and Bryn thought ahead to that part of the race. The Newton hills...that’ll be fun. I can’t wait to see Holly and her boys. Patriot’s Day was a school holiday in Massachusetts, and Holly always took the twins on a picnic to watch the race near Heartbreak Hill. Bryn had been given strict instructions to look for them near the statue of John E. Kelly, the famous Boston runner, which was near Newton City Hall.

I hope they brought a camera. I’d love a photo. She smiled. Since when had she been so vain? Since I got all these great leg muscles...Now, all I need is someone to rub them for me after the race. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine Dana... No. You haven’t heard a thing from her since that conference. When are you going to grow up?

Not too soon, I hope. This is too much fun. Bryn looked around the bus, enjoying the sight of so many athletes, each looking forward to a big day. She filled the rest of the time by reading the special Marathon section in the Boston Globe, studying the map and remembering the course from previous years.

The time in Hopkinton passed quickly, with the carnival-like atmosphere, the bands, the speeches, and a quick glimpse of the elite athletes more than filling up Bryn’s wait. They’re amazing...the elite runners are all so tiny. Maybe Greyhound had it right. She looked at her biceps, defined from her martial arts training. Forget it.

Finally, there was only a half-an-hour left, and Bryn finished her preparations. She applied her sunscreen, and pulled out the vaseline. She looked around. Everyone else was also half-naked, rubbing vaseline on every conceivable body part. It’s almost a porn movie out here. She grinned, rubbing it on her toes, between her thighs, and on her nipples. Remembering her first year, she grimaced; she hadn’t known this trick. My toenails fell off in the shower the next morning. And my nipples...boy, was that a mistake. Ugh.

It took her five minutes to cross the starting line after the cannon sounded. Bryn started her watch at the line, but was in such a crowd that she didn’t even start to run for another few minutes. And I’m official this year...I won’t even be able to lie about my time. As usual, half the men were taking advantage of the slow start by visiting the forest at the side of the road to pee. She grinned. So that’s what a dick is good for. She looked up at the sky, counting the circling helicopters. Three...four. It was a gorgeous day, and she used the early downhills to stretch her legs and warm up.

The first hour passed unnoticed, as the thrill of the start and the crowds carried her along. She laughed at the sight of a guy in an ape suit who sprinted past. He’ll be sorry...he’ll be melting out here soon. It’s really getting warm. She was glad she had remembered the sunscreen. Ape-man gathered a lot of crowd noise, however, so she kept up with him for a bit, feeding off the sound to run a little faster.

At two hours she was half-way, at Wellesley College. My favorite. The Wellesley women were out in force, forming a virtual human tunnel for the runners, screaming nonstop at a decibel level that was enough to destroy even the heartiest auditory nerves. As usual, Bryn felt herself speeding up, flying through that mile. God, that’s a blast.

A big downhill again, into Newton Lower Falls, then up over the highway, and up some more, past the Newton-Wellesley Hospital, and finally down to the sharp turn at the fire station on the corner of Commonwealth Avenue. That marked the start of the three long Newton hills, of which the most famous--Heartbreak--was the last. Bryn gritted her teeth. She was getting tired, but at least she had seeing Holly and her family to look forward to.

This stretch was a popular spot to watch from, and with the good weather the crowds were out in force. That’s the main thing that makes this torture bearable...the crowd support is fantastic. Up ahead, she saw Newton’s City Hall, and she began scanning the faces for her friend.

Oh great, there...right next to the statue. Bryn pulled to the side, and was quickly surrounded by two awe-struck five-year-olds.

"Whoa!" laughed Holly. "Down boys...give Auntie Bryn some space." She muscled in to give Bryn a hug. "Man, you stink. Nothing like three-hour-old sweat."

"Thanks," Bryn grunted. "I don’t feel so great, either."

"Really?" Holly held her at arms’ length and looked her over. "I’d say you look great; let us take your picture, OK?"

"Oh, yeah, sure...I was hoping you’d have a camera." Bryn knew her ego was being massaged, but was selfishly pleased.

"We got some of you running up...hope they turn out." The brunette jostled her sons into position around Bryn, and snapped some shots, then took a few of her alone. "Perfect." The boys brought up some orange slices and a cup of water, which Bryn took, grateful.

"Thanks, guys...I’d better keep moving, I don’t want to cramp up. Next year, you’ll all run with me, right?" The boys nodded, enthusiastic.

"If you’re up for it, how about a party at my house--dinner, tonight?" asked Holly.

"God, Holly, I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk." Bryn shook her head.

"Well, look; see how you feel. Give us a call when you get home; I’ll come and pick you up. I don’t want you on that bike of yours if you’re going to faint, OK?"

Bryn smiled. Holly was a great cook. "You’re on...I’ll call. Bye, guys." Waving, she was on her way.

From City Hall there was a steep rise, and Bryn found herself panting, her legs regretting the brief stop. I’ll be happy about the photos later, though. She didn’t know what to think about the idea of going out for dinner; she had been counting on collapsing into bed, and having a pizza delivered. Sausage, green peppers...maybe even double cheese. Yeah.

A mile later, the road flattened out, and she was feeling stronger. Suddenly, she felt rather than saw a body heading towards her, and with her martial arts instinct flung up her arm in a block.

"Watch it!" she rasped, grabbing at the young man who had almost slammed into her. She found herself holding him as his legs seemed to collapse. Whoa...what’s going on?

"Sorry..." the runner slurred, straightening up and weaving back over the road. Bryn jogged over and held him. "Hang on, buddy, what’s the problem here?"

When he didn’t answer, it was Dr. Mallory who took over. She took a glance at his pale face, his rapid breaths, and felt for his pulse. Thready...he’s really dehydrated. She looked around. They were only about a quarter of a mile from the Centre Street intersection; there was a water stop there, and there would be an aid station. She remembered the spot from previous years.

"Hey...what’s your name?" He didn’t answer, his eyes glazing. "Tell me where you are...what day is it?" It would be fastest just to walk him there...getting an ambulance to find them would take too much time. She held his arm over her shoulders and kept him moving. "Keep going, Bud...it’s not much farther. You just need some of that intravenous hydration, right?"

There...the aid station. Bryn saw the long line of water tables, with the tent behind them. She maneuvered her patient through the crowds and over to the entrance. "Coming through...please let us through."

She saw the bright yellow racing bicycle chained to a sign pole even before she heard the volunteer call out. "Dr. Sanders...there’s another one coming in." Bryn looked at her sick runner. Now which of us is going to pass out first? She tried to catch her breath. This was not part of the plan.

Dana had been out by the curb, watching the runners pass by. She had been volunteering at the race for the past few years, and this year had been given charge of this site. It was always one of the more active stations, coming late in the race, in the heart of the Newton hills. She glanced at the sky. And on a hot day like this one, there were sure to be a lot of folks who went out too fast, and didn’t drink enough. She had already rehydrated a few, shipping them off to local hospitals to recuperate. At least nobody’s had an MI yet.

Walking into the tent, she took in the runner being lifted onto a cot by his muscular companion. She moved to his side, rapidly assessing his condition and starting a large bore IV as Alex, one of the other medical volunteers, took his pulse and blood pressure. The runner’s buff blond friend stepped back, moving out of her way.

"Hello, sir, I’m Dr. Sanders. How are you feeling?" She didn’t get an answer. "Sir, what’s your name?" He muttered, unintelligible.

"Ninety over forty, one-hundred and thirty, one-o-four degrees," reported the other doctor. Dana nodded, running in the solution. It was probably all from dehydration, but she needed more information. His girlfriend might know. She turned to the blond.

"Does he have any medical problems? Take any medications?" she asked.

Bryn looked up. "Sorry, I don’t know him. I just brought him in when I found him weaving all over the road."

Dana froze. "Ah...ah." She swallowed, and didn’t try to hide her surprise. "I...didn’t recognize you." She unsuccessfully tried to keep her eyes on Bryn’s face. "I didn’t know you were running..." Her voice faded out. That was a stupid thing to say. You’ve only had one real conversation with her; how should you know she was in this race?

Bryn had been checked out enough times in her life to recognize a once-over when she was the subject of one. Well, well. This is turning out better than I thought. "How should you know? We’ve only had one real conversation." She was looking at the man, and missed the wild response in Dana’s eyes. "Well, looks like you’ve got things under control here, Doc...I’m going to get moving before I cramp up."

Dana nodded, remembering that she had a patient to care for. "Good luck," she managed, as Bryn went out the door.

The blond looked back. "Thanks."

Alex looked over at Dana as she began examining the dehydrated runner. "You know her?"

"What? Who?" Dana’s mind was out on the course.

"That cute blond...I thought you were friends. She available?" He grinned, moving over to check the blood pressure again.

"We’re...colleagues. I don’t know anything about her personal life," Dana replied, scowling.

Alex reached for his stethoscope. "She’s a doctor? Well, with a body like that, she won’t be available. I’m not that lucky."

Dana looked over at him, suddenly frightened by her next thought. But maybe I am.

******

Bryn lay her finisher’s medal on her dining room table. I sure earned that. She carefully folded the two space blankets that she had collected at the finish to wrap around herself until she had the chance to reclaim her bag and put on her sweats. One for each of Holly’s boys...they’ll like them.

She picked up the phone and dialed. "Hi?" answered a little voice, still oblivious to telephone protocol.

She grinned. "Hi Brian/Cody, whichever you are. This is Bryn. Is your Mom there?"

She heard the excited voice on the other end. "Mom! Mom! It’s Auntie Bryn!" Footsteps thudded, and the phone was passed over. "Bryn? How are you?" Holly’s voice conveyed both excitement and concern.

Bryn let out a breath. "Great...I’m great. I feel fine...I’d like to take you up on that offer of a party. I’d really like that."

She could tell Holly was pleased. "Wonderful...you’re a real hero here, let me tell you. When should I come pick you up?"

Bryn looked at her watch, considering. "I just got in...say, forty-five minutes? I just have to shower and change."

"Great, I’ll see you then."

Bryn hobbled to the shower, enjoying the force of the hot water on her sore muscles. Stopping is always such a mistake. I’m not going to be able to move tomorrow. She checked herself out. Still have the toenails, though. And the nipples. She grinned. It wasn’t her fault that she ran the last five miles far too fast...though she knew she’d be paying for her indiscretion. Dana shouldn’t have distracted me. I had no clue how fast I was going after running into her.

She was still revved up when the doorbell rang to announce Holly’s arrival. Bryn limped to the door and undid the bolt. The two friends smiled at each other, enjoying the moment.

"Congratulations!" Holly got out the first words. "Wait until you see the party the boys put together. They’ve been talking about nothing else all day."

"Can’t wait," smiled Bryn. "I’m ready for some partying, I’ll tell you." She picked up the space blankets. "Some momentos for the boys."

Holly eyed them. "Oooh, they’ll be in heaven. As if you weren’t already their favorite grown-up." She looked down at Bryn’s feet, clad in socks and sandals. "Wow, I like the earth-mother look."

Bryn grimaced. "Please. Not exactly my style, right? But my feet are killing me."

Holly laughed, and opened the car door, letting Bryn get in. "When I catch you wearing peasant dresses, I’ll start worrying." She went around to the driver’s side and put the car in gear, heading toward her home in Belmont. "You look a lot better than I expected. I’m not sure I would guess you just ran twenty-six miles."

"I feel great." Bryn hesitated. "I ran into Dana...not long after I saw you guys in Newton."

Now she had Holly’s full attention. "So that’s it. Details...I want details. What the hell happened?"

Bryn thought for a moment. "I helped a dehydrated guy into one of the aid tents...Dana was working there. She didn’t recognize me at first...she was taking care of the sick guy. You should have seen her face when she realized it was me."

"Yeah? What did you see there?"

Bryn closed her eyes, remembering. "Surprise...and she gave me a once-over like you wouldn’t believe."

Holly glanced at her. "Sounds like she’s interested."

"Maybe." Bryn shrugged. "God knows, I’d like to think so. I’m not sure I can trust myself anymore, you know? Maybe I’m just imagining her interest."

"Isn’t there any way you can find out more about her?" Holly frowned, thinking through various strategies. "Like...someone at the hospital who would know?"

Bryn searched her memory. "Well, we have one mutual friend...he’s a surgical resident. But I don’t know what I’d say to him." Let’s see...Hey, Bob, I have the hots for your Chief...think she’d be interested? Oh, yeah...right. Exactly how I always pictured coming out to him.

"Well, you could call her up to find out how the man did...at least that would get you talking to her, for God’s sake." Holly grinned. "I’ve never seen you so shy."

"Scared. I’m just scared, that’s all." Bryn rubbed her legs. "I don’t even know her...but I feel like I could really fall for her. And...it seems really dangerous."

Holly laughed. "Hate to tell you this, but you’ve already fallen for her."

Bryn glared, but she couldn’t muster any anger. After all, Holly was right.

******

Dana’s leg muscles were aching, and she rolled onto her back, her hands reaching down to begin kneading out the pain. That was more of a ride than I’ve done in a while...a good workout. I’ll need to up my mileage; I’m getting soft.

Man, I love that new bike. She visualized the bright yellow machine, her body instinctively recalling how nicely it had responded to her movements. I felt like I was flying up the hills. She opened one eye a crack. Still early...the sun will be up soon.

She heard a soft sound behind her, and couldn’t keep from grinning as she rolled back. The warm form was tightly wrapped, mummified in the quilt. She always takes all the blankets. She shivered, remembering the exertions of the night before. God, I love her muscles...

Her hand reached out to touch the blond hair that barely made it out of the pile. Unable to resist, she gathered the warm, familiar body in her arms. She froze...

...and found herself wide awake, shaking.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat there, regarding her trembling hands. I’m going crazy.

She put on her robe and walked slowly to the bathroom, trying to clear her head, but the dream remained vivid. As she stood under the shower, her arousal and surprise vanished, replaced by growing anger. Suddenly furious, she leaned against the wall.

******

Bryn dried herself off, and began dressing. She winced as she pulled her T-shirt over her head. Her fingers found the sore spot on her ribs. Ouch. That’s going to bruise. She looked across the locker room at her friend. Holly had really slammed her this time. Man, she’s gotten really good. She was way too fast for me tonight.

Bryn cleared her throat. "You’ve really been practicing...you were amazing out there tonight."

Holly was uncharacteristically modest. "Don’t be ridiculous."

Bryn glanced over, puzzled. "No, really...you must have been practicing a lot. I can’t keep up with you."

Holly didn’t meet her eyes. "Well, you were training for the Marathon...and then you had those weeks recuperating afterwards." She looked away. "What does next month look like for you?"

"I’m on the clinical service the whole month...all of June." Bryn sighed. "I’ll never get to class if it’s anything like last time, back in November." She studied her friend. "Come on, what is it? Something’s bothering you."

The brunette hesitated. "Ah, I’m just being silly...but the truth is, I was thinking of testing the next time around, in July." She was clearly unsure of what to say next. "It’s just that...we’ve always done this together. I...can’t imagine getting my next belt without you doing it, too."

Bryn was surprised, and fought back a split second of wild jealousy. Wow, doesn’t she know me well. "You knew I’d be jealous, right?" She gave her friend a big grin. "You know I’ll hate having to bow to you, right? But really, Holly...you’ve got to do it, it’s obvious you’re ready. And I’ll be there to cheer for you, too." She stepped closer and gave the brunette a hug.

Holly relaxed a tiny bit. "You’re sure you don’t mind?"

Bryn nodded. "It will motivate me to get ready for the next test--when, in October? I’ll definitely do it then."

Holly let out a breath. "Well, I’ve been aiming for July...I really wanted the boys to see it this time, I’ve not invited them before. I want them to know that their Mom can really kick their little asses if she needs to."

Bryn laughed. She remembered the post-Marathon celebration. "I hope you’re planning on having another party. That Marathon dinner at your house was really wonderful...I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed it. Your boys are really amazing, it’s something else seeing them grow up. And the renovations are spectacular--man, that kitchen." She shook her head. "You have a great life, you know?"

The older woman laughed. "You surprise me...I never thought you were interested in any of that. I mean...my life is really very conventional...two kids, big house in the suburbs, Volvo station wagon. I drew the line at the golden retriever, though."

Bryn smiled. "I love your house...I’ve always wanted an old Victorian. I might skip the station wagon, but, yeah...I’d love to have kids. Well...maybe raise kids...I’m not so sure about the having part yet. And I’d prefer one at a time." She gave Holly a grin. "And...I’d like to do it with a...partner." Bryn fell silent.

Holly picked up her gym bag. "Anything new on that front?"

"Like I should be so lucky." Bryn managed a wry grin. "Why am I being so damn stupid? I see her for two minutes every six weeks, and that’s enough to keep me from even thinking about anyone else. It’s just...nuts."

They started down the steep stairs. Holly gave a small chuckle, and Bryn nudged her. "What?"

The brunette turned. "Guess you just have to make sure it’s a really good two minutes."

Bryn laughed. "I’m working on it."

******

Dana walked quickly to the hospital in the pleasant June dawn. The sun was just rising, hinting of the warm day to come. Like many of the surgical residents, she lived practically across the street, and didn’t have far to go for the early morning rounds.

This was...what, the fourth time? She had hypothesized that her unnerving dreams only occurred after a run-in with Bryn, and had chosen to test that idea by staying away from the internist. Guess I was wrong.

God, if she’s a...tenth...as good in reality as she was in that dream last night... Dana clamped down on her thoughts. No way. No way she’ll make me be unfaithful. She’s already stolen my dreams.

She felt the anger returning. I’m going to kill her when I see her again.

She hesitated. That’s not true. But there was no doubt of one thing. She’d be seeing Dr. Mallory again.

She wanted to see her again.

******

Bryn collected her lasagna from the too-cheerful Food Service man at the evening meal. She glared. Doesn’t he know how depressed I am to be here?

Moving down the line, she hesitated over the desserts. The chocolate cake looked great. Oh, right...she was definitely reading too many on-line novels. It’s just the association...you don’t even like chocolate all that much. And face it, you can’t get away with eating that.

She took a piece, anyway. I’ll think about it.

She was working through her dinner, letting her mind wander, when her fantasy materialized, taking the seat across from her.

"So, what was your time?" Dana dumped an enormous quantity of sugar into a cup of coffee and stirred.

Bryn tried to keep from coughing the lasagna across the table. "Huh?"

Dana looked at her, puzzled. Wasn’t it obvious? "Did you get a PR?"

Bryn’s heart was pounding, and she didn’t have a clue what the far-too-overwhelming presence across from her was saying.

Dana’s eyebrows contracted. She spoke slowly. "Your marathon time...that was you at the Marathon, wasn’t it?"

"Ah...yeah...yeah." Pull yourself together, Mallory. You sound like a moron. "How’d that guy do, anyway?"

Dana shrugged. "Fine." She started eating.

Bryn was suddenly exasperated. What, you drop out of my life for two months and then expect to just leap back in again? She mentally slapped herself. Right...you’re acting like you have a relationship with her. Don’t be ridiculous. All you ever really are is bitchy to each other.

She decided to oblige her mood. "That was two months ago...I’d forgotten about it already." She gave the words an edge.

Dana hid her surprise, not looking up from her meal. She chewed her garlic bread thoughtfully. She sounds pissed. And here I was thinking... I don’t even know what I’m thinking. And I sure as hell don’t know what I’m doing here. Well, at least she seems back to normal.

The surgeon glanced up, meeting Bryn’s eyes. "Nobody’s yelled at me in a while."

Bryn found herself grinning. "Yeah, I missed you too, Doc."

Dana smiled and shoveled in more food.

Where does it all go? Bryn was fascinated. She doesn’t pay any attention to the food. Remind me not to cook for her. She decided to start over.

"The race was OK...I finished just under four hours, about where I wanted, so..." She shrugged. "It only took a week until I could walk down a flight of stairs again."

Dana laughed. She cocked her head, regarding the blond. "Why are you at the evening meal? I’ve not seen you here before."

Were you looking for me? Bryn let herself wonder for a moment, then sighed. "I’m attending on our clinical service again--the whole month of June. Usually it’s quiet; you know, the end of the year...the residents think they know everything, so nobody thinks they need a consult, but this time around we’ve been slammed."

Dana frowned. I’ll be running into her then. Is that good...or bad? Her words came out without thinking. "You’re attending again? And here I thought I’d finish the year without any more stress."

Bryn raised an eyebrow. What’s that supposed to mean? She didn’t want to ask. "Uh huh...you have any orders you want me to write?"

The surgeon stared, astonished, then practically choked as she burst out laughing. Finally, she held her head as she wiped her eyes. "Man, you’re impossible. July 1st can’t get here fast enough."

Bryn didn’t like that thought. She hesitated, but was compelled to ask the question that had been gnawing at her for weeks. She’s given you an opening...ask. "So, your Chief year is almost over...what are you doing next?"

"Trauma fellowship," Dana replied briefly. "I’ll spend much of my time in the EW...some ward attending. So, one more year here...then I’ll be looking for a job."

Bryn suddenly felt lighthearted. She decided to eat the chocolate cake after all. She took a large bite. Oooh...nice. "So, who’s taking over as Chief?"

Dana launched into a biting and extremely funny analysis of the personality of the next Chief Resident on her service. Bryn sat back, enjoying her chocolate and listening to Dana’s words. She smiled to herself.

******

Bryn was yelling at herself. You’re acting like a love-struck teenager. No, you’re acting like a bitchy thirty-four year-old who has a crush on an arrogant surgeon.

She sighed. Even the yelling didn’t help. She still wasn’t getting any work done.

Why the fuck am I still here? She had said good-bye to Francine Choi, the clinical ID fellow working with her this month, hours ago. Francine’s good...more efficient than Cam. But her handwriting stinks. She forcibly returned her thoughts to the matter at hand. I could have left then, too. Well, it didn’t hurt to see more follow-ups...and bill for them. That was a good enough reason, right?

She looked at her watch, again. A momentous occasion...I’m actually looking forward to the evening meal. She contemplated the ritual suicide that she would be forced to undergo if Dana didn’t show up in the cafeteria. I knew I should have taken up one of those martial arts where you learn how to use a sword. Would have been perfect for just this occasion.

The surgeon wasn’t there when she entered the cafeteria. Fuck. Bryn surveyed the choices, settling on meat loaf and mashed potatoes, with an enormous pool of gravy. Why am I eating this? It can’t be good for me.

She found a table off to the side and ate, suddenly hungry. Hit by a wave of fatigue, she closed her eyes. You hardly slept at all last night...that dinner with her was really unnerving. And it didn’t help that it fed into my fantasies...that kept me up, too. Her mind wandered, and she dozed.

She was awakened by a soft cough. Dana was standing by the table, holding a tray, looking uncomfortable. "Sorry...didn’t mean to wake you."

Bryn sat up, not entirely alert. "That’s OK...uh...please join me." She moved her things out of the way.

Dana sat down. "Rough night?"

Bryn snorted. "No...I was up too late last night. I’ve hardly been home this past week, and my place is a mess...I had to do about ten loads of laundry, just so I would be able to push open the front door." Well, that’s true, but that’s not the only thing that kept me up.

Dana studied her. "You’re blushing."

Bryn glared. "Thank you, Doc, I am aware of that fact." Her mouth formed a thin line, and Dana wisely decided to drop the subject.

So, why the blush? It wasn’t just because she was sleeping...or the dirty laundry. Well, it doesn’t matter... Come on, Sanders...you don’t want her to be mad at you. "See anything interesting today?" She looked across at the blond, who was viciously attacking her mashed potatoes.

Bryn hesitated. She’s definitely trying...don’t let your deranged fantasies wreck this. She took a deep breath. "Actually, yes...there was a malaria case. We see about one a month...pretty funny, when you think that it’s one of the most common diseases in the world. But everytime we get a case here, the house officers come trooping to the Parasitology lab, and we end up discussing it at Resident’s Report." She smoothed over her potatoes with her fork. "What about you?"

Dana grimaced. "This fucking Chief’s job...I like running the team, and I usually don’t mind the administrative side, but dealing with the warped surgical personalities is sometimes just too much, you know?" She grinned at Bryn’s laughter. "It’s just that if I have to deal one more time with two ballistic residents who are at each other’s throats about the damn call schedule...it won’t be pretty."

Bryn nodded, relaxed by Dana’s joke. Whew...that’s better. I’ve got to stop being so tense around her. The surgeon’s next words interrupted her thoughts.

"Well, I stayed up too late last night, too."

Bryn tilted her head. "Laundry?"

Dana laughed. "No..." She plucked at her clothes. "That’s the advantage of wearing scrubs at work. Actually, I started reading a good book, which is always a mistake. I couldn’t put it down, even though I knew I’d pay for it today."

Bryn was intrigued. "What’s it about?"

"H’m..." Dana was thoughtful, trying to gather the right words. "I’m not going to do it justice...it’s so well-written. But, it’s a novel...a comedy of manners, really...set in the nineteenth century. You see, there are these two sisters, and..."

As the surgeon continued, weaving the tale, Bryn slowly stopped eating, more and more mesmerized. She’s incredible. I can’t remember the last time anyone here ever talked to me about a novel, for Christ’s sake. God knows I’m attracted to her...but who would have predicted that I’d actually like being with her? It hasn’t always worked that way.

Their conversation went on, with Bryn contributing, asking questions and adding comments, and Dana comparing the book to others she had recently read. They were deep in debate when they were startled by a man with a mop.

"Excuse me, doctors, but we’re closing now." He was apologetic.

Dana was startled. "Holy shit..." She glanced at her watch. "Whoops." She looked over at Bryn, who was packing up her tray. The words appeared, unbidden. "I knew you’d be bad for me."

Bryn gave her a small smile. "Count on it."

******

The following evening, Bryn actually was working late, with several consults having been called in after five o’clock. She arrived at the cafeteria near the end of the meal. She scanned the room, her eyes immediately finding their target.

Picking up her food, she was about to put her tray down across from Dana, when, opening her mouth to say hello, she halted. What’s wrong?

Dana looked like a statue. She was leaning against the back of the booth, her eyes closed, totally still.

Bryn set down her tray, and sat, but didn’t speak. I don’t know what to say. Dana heard the sound, and barely moved. "I can’t talk now, Bryn."

The internist’s stomach clenched. What do I do now? "Do you want me to leave?"

Dana’s head shook slightly. "No...stay. I just can’t talk." She opened her eyes, not looking at the blond. Sitting up, she started to eat.

Bryn willed herself to move, and stared down at her meal. How can I be hungry? Somehow, she was, and she began eating as well. Slowly, the tension lessened, and transformed into a companionable silence.

Finally, Dana turned to her. "A young guy...college kid...in an MVA. He just died on my table. It hit me...hard."

Bryn didn’t know what words would be of comfort, so she said nothing, and simply nodded.

Dana got up to leave. Pausing, she turned. "Thanks."

******

Bryn wasn’t surprised when Dana didn’t come to the evening meal the next night. The following evening was the annual Infectious Disease banquet, where the departing fellows were feted, and Bryn knew that it was necessary for her to attend. Politics. On the third night, she arrived at the cafeteria to find that Dana was already there.

"So, where were you?" Dana’s words were benign, and Bryn couldn’t read any particular emotion into them. She was perversely annoyed.

"Here and there...I had a date."

Dana’s eyes widened, but otherwise her face didn’t change. She sipped her drink. "Yeah? Did you do anything fun?"

Bryn shook her head. Stop playing games, Mallory. "Well, if you consider the end-of-the-year Infectious Disease dinner fun...I’ve been there, too many years, you know? I’ve heard all the good jokes the old white guys have to tell."

Dana felt a surge of relief, and became angry with herself. So why are you so relieved? You’re barely even friends, remember? God, why is this so difficult? She glared at her plate.

Bryn was looking at her. "Dana...what is it?"

The surgeon took a moment to respond. "It’s just that...it’s nice having someone to talk to."

Bryn was floored. I wasn’t expecting that amount of honesty. She tried to lighten the moment. "Should I take that as a compliment?"

She didn’t get an answer. Dana was silent for a long minute. When she spoke again, it clearly wasn’t easy.

"You know, Bryn...it’s no secret that I intimidate the hell out of the surgical residents...I’m their boss, they don’t want to sit around and bullshit with me. I...really appreciate your putting up with me." God, I hate this shit. Past her limit, she had to escape, and stood up. "I’ve got to get back."

Dumbstruck, Bryn watched her leave. This is torture. She thought about the surgeon’s final words.

******

Rubbing her eyes, Bryn glared at the computer monitor. What was she going to do about Mr. Muir? His white count was down, and he had no documented fevers, but he still suffered from drenching night sweats. She tapped her pen on the open chart, her mind running through the differential diagnosis...again.

Her beeper went off, and she hit the button, annoyed. 3-6520, the ID office. Now what? She looked around for a free phone and dialed.

"Infectious Disease Division." It was the familiar voice of the Division’s receptionist...the latest one. The woman who had held that job forever had retired two years before, and now no one seemed to stay in that job for more than six months.

"Hey, Donna, it’s Bryn. You paged me?"

"Oh...yes...sorry, Dr. Mallory, but there’s an urgent consult." Bryn sighed. She still couldn’t get the woman to call her by her first name. OK, so she’s twenty-three...I must seem ancient to her.

"Uh huh?" Go on...you can do it.

Donna got the hint. "Francine is in clinic; I’d give it to the other team, but the doctor asked especially for you."

"Huh." Asked for me? What the fuck for? "No problem." Bryn knew the drill; when the fellows were in their morning outpatient clinics, the attendings had to help out. "What’s up?"

She heard papers being shuffled. Donna was not the most organized of receptionists. "Umm...name’s Carr...Ellison 8. The diagnosis is ‘testis pemforating.’ Gee, is that bad?"

Bryn hid a grin. Donna never got it right. Some of her ‘diseases’ were now Division classics. "Um...I’m not sure." Never heard of that one, sweetheart.

The receptionist was still talking. "The surgeon asked you to call...9-6723."

"OK," replied Bryn. "Thanks."

She punched in the number. "Ellison 8," grunted the harried voice on the other end.

"Hi, this is Dr. Mallory, ID. Someone there wants to talk to me about a patient...Carr."

Bryn waited, hearing her name being announced from the overhead speaker. When the phone was picked up, it was Dana’s voice on the other end. "Bryn, is that you?"

More than surprised, Bryn’s heart started beating faster. Since when did a Chief call in consults? That was an intern’s scut job. "Yeah...what’s up?"

Dana was all business, her words concise. "I have a young woman scheduled for the OR this afternoon; severe abdominal pain, fever, question of bowel perforation. She’s bacteremic...several bowel organisms growing from her blood. But something’s funny...can’t put my finger on it, and I have some trauma in the OR to take care of right now. Can you see her and let me know what you think?"

"Sure." Bryn’s mind was racing. "Carr, right?"

"Yeah...Ellison 8."

"Great. Bye." Bryn hung up the phone, regarding the receiver with amazement. Fuck. Man, I’d better be able to figure this one out. She swiveled around and called up the patient’s record on the computer. Carr...twenty-eight year-old woman... She flipped to the Bacteriology Lab results. Ah...this is it. Two positive blood cultures...with several negative ones in between them.

Whoa...that’s a lot of bugs. Each was growing three or four different enteric organisms. Weird...looks like...stool. She hunted around the desk, re-claiming her stethoscope. Let’s see what’s up.

On Ellison 8, she had a hard time finding the chart, until she realized that the unit coordinator was already getting it packed up for the OR. Stealing it from the secretary’s desk, Bryn settled down at the nursing station to read through the notes. Twenty-eight...juvenile diabetic, on insulin...now with severe abdominal pain, rebound, looks like peritonitis. Blood cultures with all those organisms. H’m.

She flipped to the vital signs. Fever...huh, to 104 on admission in the EW...but her heart rate wasn’t up. Strange. 101 earlier today. She turned to one of the computers and called up the labs. What’s her white count? Normal? How about her blood sugars...Jesus, those are completely normal, too.

Puzzled, Bryn got up and went to med books. She scanned the list. Well, well. She’s taking her own insulin...refuses to have the nurses give it. She went back to the chart. Yep, she’s doing her own blood sugars, too.

She studied the hallway and found Carr’s room. Feeling ridiculous--what, now you’re playing undercover agent?--she approached the room from an angle, on silent feet. She peered in. There was a young, slightly heavy-set woman, sitting up, watching the soaps...completely comfortable. Oh, yeah.

Bryn took a breath, and knocked on the door. The woman’s head swung around, and she transformed before Bryn’s eyes. Suddenly, she was limp, her head rolling, groaning in pain. Bryn moved to her side. "Hello, Ms. Carr? I’m Dr. Mallory from the Infectious Disease Division...Dr. Sanders asked me to come see you, to think about the antibiotics that you’re on."

The patient nodded, her voice weak. "Thank you, doctor...but please, don’t examine me...the pain..." She writhed some more.

Bryn regarded her. She’s good. "Well, I’d like to start with some questions...would you tell me when you first starting feeling the belly pain?" She watched the woman’s eyes as the patient rasped out the story. She keeps looking at the TV. Bryn’s eyes followed. Two characters were clearly getting it on in the soap opera. Nice tits.

Bryn kept her eyes on the TV. "If I knew the actors looked like this, I’d have watched this show more often." She wasn’t surprised when the patient laughed. "Can you tell me what’s going on in this episode?"

The woman was clearly delighted to talk about her favorite obsession. As she was describing the convoluted details of the plot, Bryn began examining her. She felt the woman’s abdomen. Soft...no pain, no rebound. Oh, man.

"Isn’t he gorgeous?" The patient was asking her about the lover on the screen. Bryn looked up. I wasn’t looking at him. "Sure," she answered, noncommittal. She looked around the room. There. On the table were two sets of blood culture bottles, placed in the room for the phlebotomists to inoculate at the next blood draw. They hadn’t been labeled yet. Bingo.

"I saw from your chart that you’re a nurse...where do you work?"

The woman launched into a description of her myriad medical problems, which had placed her on disability. Bryn nodded. "You have diabetes...is that under control?"

"Oh, yes." The patient was extremely self-assured. "My doctor has me on a very tight regimen...I do all my own glucose checks, and give all my own injections. I wouldn’t trust the staff here."

Bryn leaned forward. "Who’s your doctor?"

The woman’s face twitched. "Dr. Hall...he works in New Hampshire."

"What hospital?"

"Uh...Mercy Memorial."

I’ve been here ten years...I’ve never heard of that hospital. You are so busted.

"Well, thanks Ms. Carr...nice to meet you." Bryn got up.

"Do you know when I’ll be going to the OR today, doctor?" The woman looked anxious.

"I don’t know...I’m going to talk to Dr. Sanders first. I hope we can get you feeling better." On her way out, she snatched the blood culture bottles, carrying them with her.

At the nurse’s station, she shook the bottles, holding them up to the light. Damn...they’re already cloudy. What did she put in there? I can guess.

Her first move was to the telephone, where she called the Psychiatry Department and requested an urgent consult. Dana’ll be pissed that I’ve called for a consult on her patient. Well, she can just...kiss my ass. She grinned to herself. She’d always wanted to say that to someone. I’d never have the nerve.

She pulled out the chart and began writing. She had just finished and was ready to take the supposedly uninoculated blood culture bottles down to the lab when Dana’s hand was on her arm.

Bryn sat back down. She took a deep breath. It’s really much easier at dinner, with the table in between us. This sitting next to her...god. She looked down at the chart. "Um....hi."

Dana pursed her lips. "So?"

"You can skip the OR." Bryn nodded towards the room. "What you’ve got there is a Munchausen’s...someone who fakes illness to get operated on. She’s been injecting stool into her blood culture bottles."

Dana’s jaw dropped. "You’re kidding."

Bryn shook her head. "Nah...this isn’t the first time I’ve seen something like this. She’s a nurse...she knows all the right buttons to push. And she’s a great actress. I took the liberty of getting Psych involved--there’s someone talking to her right now. I’m even starting to wonder if she really needs--or actually takes--insulin." She slid the chart over.

"Ah, what a fucking piece of shit." Dana looked at the chart. Bryn raised an eyebrow.

Dana saw her face, and grinned, rueful. "It’s not that my compassion is completely lost, Bryn...just that sometimes it gets...sorely tried." She rubbed her forehead. "And...I’m pissed that I missed what was going on."

Bryn returned the smile. "Well, you knew that something was up...that’s why you asked me to see her, right? And we saved her from the OR...this time. The problem with these people is that once they get this label, nobody takes them seriously, and then when they come in with a real medical problem...you know." She shrugged. "You could get a few more blood cultures...closely monitored. And have someone watch her when her temp is being taken; I don’t believe those fevers were real, either."

She got up from the desk. "I’m way behind...my fellow is in clinic this morning. It’ll be a late night for sure. Will I see you tonight?"

Dana stiffened. She makes it sound...almost like a date. She forced herself to relax. Don’t be ridiculous. We’re talking about the damn evening meal. She looked up, meeting the green eyes. "I hope so."

Bryn hadn’t missed the hesitation. Why is she so tense? It’s not like I’m asking her out or anything. She produced a smile. "I’m counting on it."

******

Dana hadn’t come to the dinner that night, or for several nights afterwards, and Bryn was beginning to see the pattern. What’s she avoiding? Every time something gets in the least bit personal...she keeps running away.

The blond looked around the cafeteria. She’d better come here tonight.

She didn’t have long to wait. Dana’s presence was palpable even before she was visible at the food counter, picking up her meal. Bryn felt the by now familiar clench of anticipation.

Dana sat down, and smiled at her, but didn’t speak. Bryn was puzzled. She seems relaxed...why so quiet? Finally, the blond broke the silence.

"May I ask you a question?"

Dana hesitated. Those words were a little too close for comfort, echoing other, similar lines. "Ah...that depends."

Bryn noticed the pause. God, she couldn’t be thinking... "Hey, it’s not personal...it’s medical. I’m seeing a guy with an aortic graft infection, and quite honestly I don’t understand the surgical decision-making." At Dana’s wince, she quickly continued. "I’m not being snide here...I don’t have any problems with what anyone is doing. What I meant is, I don’t understand enough about the surgery to know what anybody is talking about."

Dana’s jaw tightened. "I find that hard to believe."

Bryn looked up, surprised. "What, you really think I have a clue what you guys do? Let me disabuse you of that idea, fast."

"Well, OK...what’s the question?"

"They’re going to have to take the old graft out...and they keep talking about various bypass options." Bryn shrugged. "Honestly, I don’t understand the vascular anatomy well enough to make sense of the procedures."

Dana pulled out a piece of paper, and began to draw. "Look, here’s the typical bypass, right?" She sketched quickly, explaining as she drew. Bryn was astounded. I didn’t know she was such an artist. She keeps surprising me. The explanation was crystal clear, exactly what she had needed.

"Yes...I get it now." Bryn was delighted by her new understanding.

The loudspeaker blared. "Stat page...Dr. Dana Sanders, to the EW, trauma room 1. Stat page...Dr. Dana Sanders, to the EW, trauma room 1."

Dana stood up, unhurried. Damn, Bryn thought with admiration, I don’t think her heartrate even budged. I’ve never seen anyone so calm.

Dana caught Bryn’s eyes, holding them momentarily. "See you."

"Yeah." Bryn looked down, as Dana walked away.

Neither had been willing to mention the obvious.

It was the last day of June.

******

Bryn was buzzed, reality blurring at the edges. This is a great party. She stepped into the kitchen, enjoying the breeze coming through the French doors as the hot July day was turning into dusk.

Holly did so well at the testing...I’m glad she agreed to have this party. All of their Tae Kwon Do friends were there, as well as Holly’s neighbors and colleagues. The rooms were already hopping, full of conversing adults and raucous children. Jack even brought a new girl...that won’t last. She looks far too intelligent for him.

She sat down on a stool, running her hand over the countertop. This kitchen is fantastic. I love the granite. Holly’s husband had parlayed his graduate studies at MIT into a job with an internet start-up, and had hit the jackpot. It shows. She took another big swallow of the wine in her glass. This is good...Michael has good taste. But I knew that already...he married Holly, right?

She saw her friend coming towards her, carrying a bottle. Bryn held out her glass for a refill. She lifted it in a silent salute, and drank again.

Holly moved closer, and put her lips near Bryn’s ear. "You’re getting drunk."

Bryn didn’t care. "Is it that obvious?"

Her friend grinned, shaking her head. "Nah...just to me." She pulled the blond over to a quiet corner, away from the commotion surrounding the boisterous children. "So?"

Bryn cocked her head. "So...you were truly awesome tonight. Congratulations." That’s not what Holly meant.

Holly snorted. "Thanks...but you know that’s not what I meant."

"What...now I’m supposed to be able to read your mind?" Bryn feigned outrage.

The older woman laughed. "You always have...now I see your psychic powers are selective. Come on, I’m dying to hear."

"I’m in withdrawal." Bryn sighed. "I saw her almost every night there for a few weeks...now it’s been three weeks, and I swear, I’m about to do something...drastic."

"Like...ask her out?"

"Oh god...no." Bryn blurted out the words, then laughed, rueful. "Yeah, I know...you’ve never seen me like this..." She took a deep breath. "You know, I’d really like her as a friend...but I just have no reason to run into her anymore."

Holly took Bryn’s arm again, steering her to the food. "Eat. You need to soak up some of that alcohol." She glanced at the younger woman. "And if I’m permitted to say so...you want her for more than a friend."

Bryn grunted. "Well, as a friend, too...unlike some of my relationships, right? She’s just about the most interesting person I’ve ever met. But talk about complicated...I can’t get a handle on her. There’s something bothering her, that’s for sure." She fell silent, pensive.

Holly was thoughtful. "I’d say you like complicated types. God knows, you’re complicated enough."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Bryn didn’t get it. Maybe I am drunk.

The brunette smiled. "It’s just that sometimes...I’m never sure which side of you is going to show up. One night, you’re in leather, on your bike...then, like tonight, you’re the conservative physician..."

"I don’t believe in sterotypes." Bryn grinned. "At least...I like having several different ones."

That got a chuckle out of Holly. "Keep eating...or I’ll have Jack drive you home. I don’t think he’s going to be leaving with his new friend." Their eyes went across the room, where Jack’s date was practically leaning on another man.

Bryn’s eyes widened in terror. "God forbid...just the threat of that will sober me up, fast."

******

Bryn had been busy, her days filled with grant writing, her nights with marital arts training. She stretched, her back sore from sitting in front of her computer. She looked at her watch. Jesus, it’s already eight. So much for going to the gym. She had been training hard, going almost every night throughout July. Holly motivated me...I’ll test for sure in October.

She let herself think the unvoiced wish. OK...I can work for another hour, then go to the evening meal. She grimaced, trying to dampen the wave of desire. Whoa...can’t go down there like this. Get a grip. She turned back to the screen, forcing herself to concentrate.

When she finally made it to the cafeteria, she didn’t have to wait. Dana was sitting alone at a table, her piercing eyes already turning Bryn’s stomach. Oh god...how does she do this to me? She managed to walk over without tripping or dropping her tray. Good job, Mallory...that’s two points.

"Well, hello there. You’re not on the clinical service, are you?" Dana was taking in Bryn’s trousers and shirt. She’s not in a suit...she looks younger.

Bryn smiled, as the surgeon gestured for her to sit down. "No, thank god...I have a grant due in two weeks...September first. It’s crunch time. How’s the fellowship?"

Dana was clearly in one of her taciturn moods. "OK. There’s a minusculely greater amount of free time." The surgeon was quiet for a minute, giving her attention to her food. Finally, she looked up. "What have you been up to?" Her voice was calm, but her body seemed tense.

"Um...working on my grant...and going to the gym. I had to lose all the weight I put on in June...this damn food." Bryn gestured to her plate.

Dana shook her head. "You don’t have any to lose. You’re not going to get all anorexic on me, are you? I hate the skinny look."

Bryn barely kept from choking on her salad. This is different. Well, I can play along. "And what look do you like?"

The answer came back without hesitation. "Muscles. I like...muscles." The surgeon winked.

Bryn was flustered. To hide it, she scanned the cafeteria. "What...like that guy over there?"

Dana looked where she was pointing and made a rude noise. "That moron? He’s a dumb jock...how he ever got into the Ortho residency is beyond me. Nah...just as one part of...the whole package." She grinned, but turned the conversation to a discussion of a movie she had seen the previous weekend.

What was that all about? Bryn took a breath. Come on...she was just being funny. You’re over the top, reading subtext into every damn word and look. Get real.

She looked at her biceps. Well...OK.

******

Bryn went to the gym the next night, but the following night found her back in the cafeteria. This is really fun. She looked across the table at Dana. I love talking with her.

The surgeon stretched her legs and stood up. "I’m going to get some more Coke...you want anything?"

"No thanks." Bryn watched her go. She leaned back. The grant’s due in another week...what am I going to do then? Her thought was interrupted when a thin, balding doctor sat down at the table.

"Ah...hi, Paul." It was Paul Cohen, an old friend. "What are you doing here so late?"

"Some late admissions...I’m starving." He vacuumed up some food. "Who’s that surgeon?"

Bryn gave a small start. "Dana Sanders...she was Chief Resident last year."

"Is she available?" At Bryn’s strange look, he laughed. "Sorry...that didn’t come out right. I meant, I need a general surgeon...for a patient. I usually refer to Bill Stamford, but he’s out of town...and one of these new admits will have to go to the OR semi-urgently. Is she any good?"

"Yeah...the best." Bryn didn’t hesitate. Paul pursed his lips. "Coming from you, that’s a real compliment. Would she do it?"

Bryn shrugged. "I don’t know...why don’t you ask her?" She looked up. Dana was walking back to the table, her face suddenly blank when she saw that there was company.

Who’s the little shit? She caught herself. "Hi." She tried not to glare.

Bryn did the introductions. "Paul, this is Dana Sanders...Dana, this is Paul Cohen...we were med students and residents together. He’s in the Gastroenterology Division now."

They shook hands. Paul got right to the point. "I have a patient with Crohn’s...small bowel obstruction, hasn’t improved with conservative management. Bill Stamford’s out of town...you interested in looking at him?

Dana was surprised. "Why me? How about Charlie Morgan...or Alex Thompson? They usually cover for Bill."

Paul wolfed down more of his meal. "Bryn likes you...that’s good enough for me. I trust her judgement, completely."

Well. Dana managed to keep her mouth closed. Now that’s...something. "OK." She pulled out a pen and started jotting down the details as Paul rattled them off. When he finished, she got up. "I’ll go and see him now and let you know what I think." She looked over at Bryn. "Thanks for the referral, Dr. Mallory."

Bryn caught her eyes. "Just remember...now you owe me one, Doc."

Dana smiled as she left, and Bryn turned back to her meal. Paul was looking at her with curiosity. "Are you seeing each other?"

Bryn flinched. "No...no. I just know her from...the wards."

Paul paused. "Whatever happened to Cathy, anyway? You two were roommates all through med school, right?"

"Wow." Bryn shook her head. "You have a good memory...that’s ancient history. She went off to New York for a neurology residency. We...lost touch."

Their conversation turned to other topics, but she kept thinking about Paul’s question all through the rest of their meal.

******

Bryn watched, bemused, as Dana ate through her food with methodical precision. It’s been the same every night this week. I don’t think she has any clue what she’s eating. It’s just fuel.

Dana felt Bryn’s eyes on her and looked up. She stopped eating, suddenly embarrassed. "So...I’m inhaling this again, aren’t I?" She looked down at her plate.

Bryn smiled slightly. "You in a rush?"

"No...actually, I might even be able to go to sleep for a bit after this." Dana suddenly grinned. "But I hate sleeping on an empty stomach." She continued eating. "You know, I enjoyed meeting your friends. Do you know everyone here at the evening meal?"

Bryn winced. Their conversations over the past week had been frequently interrupted by visits from colleagues that she hadn’t seen in a while. "Uh...not exactly."

"Well, they’re a nice crowd. I never knew that there were actually interesting people who worked here."

Bryn allowed herself to smirk. "You just need to spend more time with internists rather than surgeons, that’s all."

Dana didn’t take the bait. "I haven’t thanked you for those referrals...I’m starting to see that everyone here is in love with you. It’s sure keeping me busy. So, see you here tomorrow?"

Bryn suddenly felt awkward. "Actually...no." She looked up to see quickly hidden surprise. "I’m mailing the grant off tomorrow...believe it or not, I’m done." So why was she feeling sad?

"Well...that’s great." Dana sounded less than thrilled.

"Yeah, I was going to celebrate tomorrow night...I thought I’d go see the Everest movie at the Science Museum. Hey...bet you’d like it, want to come?"

Bryn froze, too late to recall her words. What had she just done?

She collected herself enough to notice that Dana was equally still. Suddenly, she really wanted Dana to see the film with her.

"My tech just saw it; she said it was the best IMAX movie ever, really spectacular...it’s about a small expedition that makes it to the summit...they hauled one of those gigantic IMAX cameras all the way up with them." Her voice trailed off.

The surgeon swallowed. "IMAX...is that one of those large screen things?"

"Uh-huh."

"I’ve never seen one of those." Dana pushed what was left of her pork chop around her plate.

"They’re great. So...meet me at 7:30 at my lab? The show’s at 8 o’clock." Bryn found herself holding her breath.

"Sounds good." Dana’s voice was impassive. "But I’ll have to bail out if I’m in a long case."

"If you don’t show by 7:40, I’ll leave without you." Bryn shrugged, getting up and picking up her tray. "It’s Jackson 695." She walked out and put her plates on the belt, acutely aware of the eyes on her back.

Dana watched her leave, then slumped down into her seat. Fuck...fuck. What are you doing, Sanders? You know you’re...not free to get involved with her. And Dr. Mallory is not just another fling.

That’s the problem, isn’t it? None of the others meant a thing. Dana rose, heading back to the EW. You like her too damn much.

******

Bryn spent the day not letting herself hope too much that Dana would actually show up, knowing that otherwise she would drown in an ocean of anticipation. She was therefore surprised when she heard the door open and the sound of steps coming through the lab at precisely 7:30.

Dana stuck her head in the office door. "I found you."

Bryn looked up. Did you ever. She caught her breath. The surgeon wasn’t in scrubs, but was wearing jeans, and a soft blue silk shirt. Gorgeous.

"This all yours?" Dana was looking around the lab.

"Yeah...small and old, but it’s my home." Bryn got up, moving closer. "Hey, I like that shirt. Is it from China?"

Dana was startled. Is she flirting? She fought off a surge of panic. Fuck, I’m not ready for this. Her mind raced. She’s not Carla...I can’t handle this that way. She’s different...this feels different. She knew what it did feel like, but wouldn’t let herself even begin to form the thought. Like Sara...no. I can’t afford to let this go too far. I can’t.

She managed to answer. "Well, I know it’s from Filene’s Basement, but...where it lived before that...." She shrugged.

Bryn reached out a hand and touched the shirt. She pulled back quickly, hiding her surprise as Dana flinched. "Yeah, I bet it is. I had a lot of silk shirts made when I lived in Chengdu...that was when the exchange rate was really great."

Dana gaped. "Huh? Where?"

Bryn was gathering her bag and turning off the office lights. "Chengdu...the capital of Sichuan province. I taught English there for a year after college."

Dana was impressed, and leaped at the change in subject. "Wow...that sounds amazing...do you speak Chinese?"

The blond laughed. "I used to...but my Mandarin was never very good. I can still order in restaurants, though."

Dana bit back her instinctive reaction to take Bryn up on the implied offer. Ah, Christ. The realization hit hard, and she started to sweat. This way lies madness. You’re falling for her. Fortunately, Bryn didn’t seem to notice her sudden hesitation as the blond closed up the lab and led the way down the hall to the elevators.

Outside, it was still sweltering, a typical late August night in Boston, and Dana let herself hope that her flush wouldn’t be too obvious. By the time they made it over the footbridge and into the airconditioned breeze of the Museum’s lobby, she had settled down.

She looked around. "I’ve been in Boston for six years, and I’ve never been here before," she admitted.

Bryn nodded. "Most people think it’s just for kids, but I’m hooked on the movies...and the night-time laser shows are really great." She produced two passes as the line for the theater began to move.

Dana started to protest, but Bryn waved her off. "These were a gift from a friend...didn’t cost me anything." Holly had given her some extras from her family membership; she had taken her boys to the show already.

The surgeon fell silent. She scanned the room, intrigued by the large, curved screen that seemed three stories tall, and looked up at the steep rows of seats. "This is neat."

Bryn smiled. "Just you wait. It’s amazing." There weren’t too many people, so they had their choice of seats. She led Dana two-thirds of the way up, and moved toward the center of the row. "The view will be great from here."

The film opened with an avalanche thundering towards the audience, and Dan found herself gripping the armrests of her chair. "Holy shit," she breathed, and heard a faint chuckle in reply. She fought the urge to take Bryn’s hand. Stop this.

From the opening credits, Bryn was entranced. The film followed the progress of a three members of a small expedition on their journey to the top of Everest: a Nepalese man, the son of the sherpa who had first reached the top with Sir Edmund Hillary; a Spanish woman; and an American man. She stared with frank admiration...and lust...at the Spanish woman as she hung from her fingernails on a rock face over the ocean during a training climb. Wow.

She gathered her courage and moved her leg so that it was barely touching Dana’s thigh, and was acutely aware that the surgeon didn’t move. Well, that’s...interesting. She let herself enjoy the sensation.

The film was tragic, too, as the expedition was following another one which lost several members to a storm as they approached the summit. The team was able to talk to one of the other expedition’s leaders by cell phone as he died, unreachable, on the mountain. They were able to patch his signal through to his wife in the United States.

Bryn heard a soft sound and glanced over. Startled, she saw that Dana was leaning over, covering her eyes with one hand. The other hand was curled in a fist. My god, what’s this? Suddenly, it was obvious. Dana was crying, and couldn’t seem to stop.

Bryn reached out to take Dana’s hand, but found her own slapped away as the surgeon shifted in her seat, distancing herself. Bryn felt powerless. What’s going on? She sat, trying to collect herself, until the film was over, and Dana stood up, silent. Bryn, confused, followed her out of the theater.

"You OK?" The blond’s voice was soft. She raised her hand as if to touch Dana’s tears, but stopped the motion halfway.

"Not really." Dana was remote. She shook her head. "Just...brought back some bad memories, that’s all."

Bryn was still. "That wasn’t the intention." Careful...careful. "Want to talk about it?"

Dana’s jaw tightened on her kneejerk reaction, which was an angry retort. Don’t do that to her. She let her legs carry her out of the museum and back toward the hospital before she was ready to reply.

"No. I can’t talk right now." She looked over at the blond. OK, at least I didn’t sound like a complete asshole.

They climbed the steps to the walkway that would take them over the highway. Dana paused in the middle, taking in the view--the river, lights, MIT on the far side. "I’d like to go there sometime."

"To Everest?" When the surgeon nodded, Bryn continued, "I’ve been there."

"What?"

Bryn seemed to be looking deep inside herself, remembering. "Well, not to the top, obviously...I trekked to the lowest base camp during a trip to Nepal. It’s another world." She looked over at her companion. "You’d like it."

Dana sighed. "There you go again...you really intimidate me, you know that?"

Bryn was startled. "You are so full of shit."

"No, really...you’re too damn smart, and any place in the world that I mention, you’ve been there."

To Dana’s surprise, Bryn looked upset. "I saw you open a guy’s chest in the EW, stick your finger into the hole in his ventricle, and sew it up. Now that’s intimidating."

Dana was at a loss. "It’s...my job."

"Yeah...and you chose to learn how to do it." The blond shrugged, as if that proved her point. She started off down the ramp, then stopped to let Dana catch up. "What would you be if you weren’t a surgeon?"

"I’d have a bike shop...spend my time fixing bikes. I like working with my hands." Dana flexed her fingers, tense. "What about you?"

Bryn didn’t hesitate. "An astronaut."

Dana glanced over. "Yeah, I can see that."

Bryn relaxed slightly, glad that the change of subject seemed to have worked. "You should see the IMAX movie that was filmed on the space shuttle--they show it in the Air and Space Museum in D.C. It’s incredible."

"So why didn’t you do it?"

"Try to become an astronaut? Besides the fact that I get really bad motion sickness?" Bryn paused. "I sort of lost my nerve after the Challenger blew up, you know?"

Dana’s control shattered. She sank down on a nearby bench in Charles River Park and literally unraveled.

Bryn was aghast. What happened? She sat down next to Dana who was sobbing, gasping for breath.

But those patients weren’t her friends.

They weren’t Dana.

She wrapped her arms around the taller woman and held her, until Dana quieted and her breathing became more regular.

"I’m sorry." The surgeon sounded angry. "You didn’t need to see this."

Bryn chose her words carefully. "It can help to cry." The next thought came in a sudden burst of clarity. "Seems to me you’ve been needing to cry for a long, long time." She removed her arms, realizing that the moment was over.

The angry reply that Dana had held back earlier came out now. "Who the fuck are you to talk to me like that?"

"Your friend."

Not ‘your friend I hope,’ or ‘your friend, I thought.’

No qualifications.

Dana shivered. "I live here." Her head jerked towards one of the Charles River highrises.

"How convenient." Invite me up, Dana. You don’t want to be alone right now.

The surgeon stood up. "It was one hell of a movie." She turned and, not looking back, walked into the nearby building.

Bryn fought the almost overwhelming urge to follow. Whatever the demons were that were hounding Dana, they didn’t involve her--although she sure seemed to have brought them out. If she barged in now, she might get wasted in the crossfire.

Even so, she was halfway to the door before she turned and, confused and unhappy, began the long walk back to the Charles T station and home.

******

Continued in Part 5

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