|
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
|||||||
Title: Close Call
Author: Pug
E-mail: chocowrite@worldnet.att.net
Rated: PG
Spoilers: none
Summary: When Steve pulls Mikki Henderson from her demolished car
he
becomes her hero of the day. Before long she's going to need more
than
a hero the way "accidents" keep happening to her. Is
she jinxed,
mentally unbalanced, or is someone out to kill her? Not only is
Mikki's
life in danger, but so is her heart. Who will she choose: Jesse
or
Steve? What will Mark say about Steve seeing a woman less than
half his
age?
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, CBS and Viacom do. This
is
not for profit, and expressly for private use, and not to be
spread
around the internet or anywhere else for that matter.
Feedback: welcome
It was his blues eyes I remember. The first thing I saw when I
came to were these clear blue eyes, full of compassion and fear.
You can't forget something like that.
I guess I should back up a bit. I remember the day as clearly as
if I was living it this moment. Well, parts of it anyhow. Spring
in LA, no smog (for a change), not a cloud in the sky--which was
that indefinable shade of blue that looks layers deep. The kind
of day you wished you owned a convertible so you could cruise the
PCH with the top down, smelling the sand and salt air.
Me, well, I had all the windows in the Tercel down, my shades on,
arm hanging out the window. In addition to the great weather, I'd
just finished my last final and knew I'd aced it. Saturday I'd be
one in the mass of thousands graduating with a Pre-law degree
from USC. Go Trojans!
The really lousy thing about it all was I didn't do a damn thing
wrong. I stopped at the red light. I even waited after it turned
green and looked for light runners. There weren't any.
To this day, I have no idea where in creation that guy came from.
I accelerated, singing away to a tune on the radio. I vaguely
remember a moevement in the corner of my eye, but that's it.
The next thing I remember is those eyes. And the pain. The
unbearable, excruciating-- there really aren't words to describe
the pain I was in at that moment. I could feel tears streaming
down my cheeks, that's how bad it was. I tried to speak, but all
that came out was a gasp.
He spoke. "Don't try to talk. Don't move. Just be as still
as possible the ambulance is on the way."
What a voice. So gentle and caring, throaty but not husky. It's
sexy. Of course, I didn't think about that then. I was just
trying to figure out what had happened.
Without moving, I've always been good at obeying orders, I tried
to look around. He was blocking most of my view and he hovered
over me, but behind him I could see my car, or what little was
left of it. Trying to sit up was a innate reaction to seeing my
vehicle in shreds. I don't remember thinking about having to sit
up, it just happened.
He held me in place. "You have to lie still."
All this happened in a matter of seconds, much less time that it
does to tell it. I could hear shouting and crying somewhere
behind me. A baby crying. I smelled exhaust and hot
pavement.
"It hurts!" I tried to scream, but all that came out
was a wimpy little, gaspy whine.
"I know, I know. That's why you have to stay still, you
don't want to make things worse."
"What happened?"
He shook his head, those blue eyes became hard and angry. I
remember thinking, I was glad he hadn't looked at me like that.
"Some idiot in one of those souped up picked trucks ran the
red light. A couple feet the other way and I think he would've
plowed right over you and kept going."
He jerked his head, listening, and after a moment, I heard it
too. The ambulance was near. It seemed to fade away though, along
with the person in front of me. Everything went white and then
black.
The next time I came to I was looking into blue eyes again, but
not the same ones. Very similar though, it confused me. These
eyes were older, but full of compassion. Same wrinkles at the
corners of the eyes, the face was more oval when the other had
been almost square. The other had been a blond, I think. This man
had white hair, beautiful white hair and a white caterpillar
mustache. Maybe I'd imagined the other face.
Everything still hurt, but not nearly as much. I felt woozy, like
I'd had too much to drink. I frowned trying to remember. Had I
gone to a graduation party?
"I'm Doctor Sloan, you're at Community General
Hospital."
He must have noticed my frown.
"You were in a bad car accident, but you're going to be
okay."
"You saved me?"
"Saved you?"
I tried to sit up, but it my chest felt like an anvil was sitting
on it. The doctor put out a hand.
"Lie still. You've fractured your sternum, among other
things."
"There was someone there. With blue eyes like yours. He
pulled me out of the car, I think. He saved me."
The doctor nodded with a strange smile on his face.
"That would be my son, Steve. He was sitting at the traffic
light when you were hit."
"I want to thank him."
"Ah, ah, no visitors. You shouldn't even be talking."
The voice came from the doorway. A much younger man in a white
doctor coat breezed into the room. He was blond, blue eyes again.
What was it with all these blue eyes. Extremely adorable man,
especially when he smiled as he did at that moment.
The older doctor, what had he said his name was? He smiled and
nodded toward the new visitor.
"This is Dr. Travis. He's the one that treated you in the
ER."
Dr. Travis looked at the chart he held in his hands and back up
at me.
"You seem to have made good progress since I was here last
night." He stepped around the other doctor and checked all
the beeping machines next to my bed.
"Are you really a doctor?"
He didn't take his eyes off the machinery, but smiled like he'd
heard that question a thousand times before.
"One of the best ER surgeons in the city," the older
doctor answered for him. What did he say his name was?
"When can I go home?"
Dr. Travis grimaced and turned to me. He took my pulse before
answering.
"You have a fractured sternum, a broken left wrist, broken
right ankle and sprained left ankle, we relocated your left
shoulder. Then we had to reinflate your left lung because you
have several broken ribs, one of which punctured your lung. And
let's not forget the severe concussion. How many fingers am I
holding up?"
"Three," I muttered. It didn't sound like I was going
anywhere anytime soon.
"And do you know your full name?"
"Mikki Henderson."
"Good."
All the same he leaned over and flashed a pen light into my eyes,
then handed it over to Doctor--Slogan? Slocum? Anyway, he had to
look in my eyes too.
"Tell you what, I want to keep you in ICU for twenty-four
more hours because of that lung. Then we'll move you to a regular
room and you can have visitors."
"I'm supposed to graduate on Saturday. I wanted to
walk!"
Dr. Travis chuckled. "One, there's no way you're getting out
of here for at least a week, maybe two. Two, if we did let you
out, you wouldn't be able to walk, you'd have to roll - in a
wheelchair. And three, I'm sorry to tell you," he glanced
down at his watch. "What time is the ceremony?"
I didn't like the way he asked that question.
"Ten, why?"
He grimaced. "Missed it." He showed me his watch.
"It's almost noon."
"I said Saturday!"
He nodded and held out his wrist again. "Notice the
date."
I looked at the watch, up to his face, and over to the other
doctor. The older man nodded confirmation.
"You've been in and out of consciousness for several
days."
At that moment his beeper went off. He looked at Dr. Travis.
"Jess?"
The younger man waved him out the door. "We'll be
fine."
As soon as he was out of earshot I looked to Dr. Travis.
"What did he say his name was?"
"That was Dr. Mark Sloan, Chief of Internal Medicine."
"He said his son is the one that pulled me out my car. I
want to thank him."
Dr. Travis scratched his head.
"He's in the middle of a big case right now. I'll pass the
message along though, and I'm sure he'll drop by when he gets a
chance."
The word case perked me up.
"He's a lawyer?" Could my luck be changing? Was I going
to make a contact through this mess that would land me a law
clerkship?
But Dr. Travis was chuckling.
"No. A cop. A homicide detective."
"Oh."
He looked at me funny, hearing the disappointment in my voice.
"You got a thing for lawyers?"
"I'm going to Pepperdine in the Fall to study law."
He looked askance at me. "Aren't you too young to be a
lawyer?"
It must have been the drugs I was on, but I caught the joke and
laughed. Or tried to. That anvil was still there, and it felt
like someone stabbed me in the ribs.
"Sorry about that," he grimaced. He reached for my
wrist again. He didn't like what he felt evidently, because he
shook his head and pressed the call button.
When the nurse appeared they held a whispered conversation and
she left. A few moments later she was back and handed Dr. Travis
one of those tiny paper cups that hold pills.
"I know it's no fun being doped up all the time, but it's
very important you be perfectly still and let some of these
injuries heal." He held my head up while I took the capsules
and swallowed some water. "We don't want that lung to
collapse again. Good," he said as I handed the water cup
back to him and he eased my head back onto the pillow. "That
ought to take effect pretty quickly. Just let it do it's job. A
couple more days and we'll see about letting you get up a
little."
He really was adorable. And I was dopey without the medication
he'd just given me.
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
He chuckled. "Not at the present time."
"You should you know. You're cute."
"Well, thank you. But between being a doctor and a part-time
owner of a bar-be-que restaurant, I don't have much time for a
social life."
"A ressraunt? What kind?"
The next time I woke up I was alone. No eyes, blue or otherwise.
It was three or four more days before I finally saw those blue,
blue eyes again.
I was in a regular room by then, allowed to sit propped up a bit.
Dr. Travis once asked if I had family in the area and I said no.
A couple of friends from school came by now and then. They
informed me I hadn't missed much at graduation. It'd been a real
cattle call, and terrifically hot sitting in the sun for hours,
three quarters of the class was drunk and actnig like idiots.
But finally, my savior came.
Dr. Sloan came in first. He gave me that bright smile he has that
always managed to make me feel good inside.
"Feel up to a visitor?"
"Sure, come on in."
"Oh, not me. You mentioned wanting to meet my son."
"The guy that saved me. Is he here? Really?" Would he
live up to the image I remembered? My stomach got a sudden case
of the butterflies.
Dr. Sloan nodded to someone out in the hall and in he came. He
was tall! Over six foot, he was a couple inches taller than his
father. And old. I should have figured that out considering the
doc was his dad. But I was surprised to realize he had to be 40
if he was a day.
My imagination hadn't played tricks with me, though. He was
handsome. Sexy even, for a guy his age. Well built, not one of
those weight lifters who overdoes it. Just muscular and trim. And
those blue eyes were looking at me again. This time they were
bright, the wrinkles at the corners turned up with his smile. A
smile which brought out long dimples in his cheeks. He had a
dimple in his chin too. In that moment I would have given
anything to have been fifteen or twenty years older.
"Well, you sure a heck of a lot better than the last time I
saw you," he said and walked over the edge of the bed.
"I think I feel better, though with all the medicine I'm on,
it's hard to tell."
There was an awkward silence.
"I just wanted to thank you for what you did."
He shook his head. "Anyone would have done the same
thing."
I shook my head emphatically. "No, not anyone."
I gaped like a fish out of water for a minute, trying to find the
words I wanted to say to him.
"It's just, when I came to and you were right there. I can't
explain really. But you made me feel safe, like everything was
going to be okay. I really think if you hadn't been there, I
might have died."
I looked past him to his father. "Don't you think a person's
mental attitude sometimes contributes to their physical
health?"
Doctor Sloan looked surprised, but nodded.
"Absolutely."
"I know it sounds stupid now, but your being there gave me a
reason to live. That's what I want to thank you for."
Steve seemed at a loss for words. "Well, you're welcome. I'm
glad you're going to be okay."
I nodded. Another awkward silence, two people who don't know each
other and really have nothing to talk about. Then Steve's cell
phone rang.
"Duty calls," he gave me a half-hearted grimace.
I nodded again. "I'm glad you stopped by."
He hurried out of the room.
I didn't realize it then, but I was already falling in love with
Steve Sloan.
TBC