RP Log with geniuscowboy | Playing Doctor
[Follows episode 1x08 "An Arm and a Leg"]
By now, it was the early afternoon after their unforgettable night before. Alligators, bossly UST, amputations, warm beer, singing and Gummi Worms. It didn't get much more rollercoaster than that. Chris just knew it must've been a really good night... or early morning rather... because he and Serena both woke up hungover with little memory beyond singing to the Peas in the hospital carpark. All he knew was that he woke up in nothing but one sock and Serena apparently had his boxers on. There was probably no point in even trying to analyse the situation. Sometimes as a trauma surgeon, you just had to let it go and feel the wind in your hair. Sometimes, like any reckless behaviour, there was also consequences and this time, that had been the realisation that there may have been drunken sex without protection. Serena was on the pill, like any responsible woman having casual sex should be, but they always still used condoms just to keep the habit.
Though, with hangovers came puking and Chris had gotten nervous that the pill wouldn't be affective enough. The last thing he needed in his last year of trauma residency was a little blond bundle of joy running around calling him daddy. He had managed to dig one of his script pads out from the back of his desk drawer and wrote Serena up a script for the morning-after pill just to be on the safe side. They both knew they'd slipped up, but they were also responsible adults most of the time, they could deal with this without making it any sort of blown up issue. He had reluctantly dragged on a pair of trackpants, a t-shirt and some flip-flops complete with a cap on his head so he didn't need to worry about drunk/bed/post-fuck hair in public, and then had jumped on his bike to cycle to the pharmacy to pick up the medication for her... but only after leaving her with a two litre bottle of water and appreciating the view of her in his boxers, even if she was badly hungover.
Unfortunately, he now had to add insult to injury. The morning-after pill had side effects, and while some people didn't get bothered by them, if they were, they weren't particularly pleasant. She had taken the pill just over an hour ago now, and Chris was standing at the breakfast bar of his kitchen, elbows resting on it as he read the leaflet from the pharmacist about the side effects. His apartment wasn't huge, he decided to forgo living and room space in favour of having an awesome balcony and being walking distance to the beach with beach views. The kitchen and living room were one room, open-planned, with two bedrooms and a bathroom up the hall... and not much else. He glanced over at where Serena was lying on the sofa as he waited for the kettle to boil for some tea. "Emergency Post-coital Contraception," he read out with a smirk and then took a sip from his bottle of Gatorade. He was still feeling seedy himself, but after throwing up just before going to the pharmacy, he felt a lot better in general, being just left with a raging headache now. "How long do you think it goes before it stops being 'post' coital and starts being 'pre' coital for the next round? Do you think there's some sort of scale? Okay, so side effects. Nausea, most common, and-or vomiting. Check." He pointed to the large mixing bowl sitting on the coffee table beside her he had giving her in case of emergencies. The bucket he had pinched off her during his period with the flu was now sitting out on his balcony and housing his surfboard wax. "Might also be abdo pain, fatigue, headache, dizziness and breast tenderness. Hn. You get all this from one tiny little pill that the rest of us have to live through a night of boozing for. It's a hangover in a pill."
He set the leaflet back down and rounded the counter to head over to the sofa. He sat down on the edge of it, his hip right near her stomach, and started to softly massage her neck. "Could also be some bleeding in a few days, but we'll worry about that when the time comes." He gave her a small smile. "How are you feeling? Let me know if you want a shower or to go to the bathroom so I can hover strategically. I don't want you passing out and hurting yourself."
Serena had her hand over her eyes to try and block out the sunlight from the windows and when she moved it to look at Chris she had to scrunch up her face and squint. "Unh... That's how I'm feeling. I think I can only talk in Wookie. Words aren't good. Words hurt. Too much effort." She let out a contented moan though as his fingers worked against her neck and reached out to rest a hand in his lap in a half-hearted embrace. She was still wearing his boxers, and his her favourite tank top - the same one from the night before. "Fingers good. Fingers very good. I don't think I want a shower yet. You might need to put up with me being the stinky one today. And I think... post-coital stops when you move on to do something else, or are gearing up for round two."
Chris scrunched his nose up. "See, that just makes my head hurt. What do they call it when you're continuously going from one round of sex to another? I say they call it crazy. Did you know there is a condition that can make you have a hundred orgasms a day? You would never want to have sex again. It would be like eating Big Macs and nothing else. Not to mention that you would constantly have come face, which couldn't be attractive," he mused, his hungover brain surprisingly contemplative. "Do you want tea? Anything? If you were going to have any funky side effects, you would be starting to feel them around now. If you need a hand, just let me know, okay? Thank hell we have a day off."
"There's definitely nausea. Lots and lots of nausea. Only that could just be the hangover. Can you turn the sun down? I don't like the sun today..." Serena shifted onto her side and reached up with her other hand to stroke her fingers against his back. "A hundred orgasms? That's no fun. Just like one of the side effects of the little blue pills is a permanent erection. As much as I love going a few rounds, I can't imagine all that blood rushing south permanently is a good thing." She arched her eyebrow at him. "Do you not like my come face? Is it true what they about guys playing guitars? That when they do their solos, that's their come face?" She tugged at the back of t-shirt gently and gave him a small smile. "I'd love some tea. And it's nice just being here with you."
Chris nodded and then winced. "Priapism. Believe it or not, I have a dude come through trauma with that my first year. It was so horrible for him, he tried to cut it off. That is one surgery I will never, ever forget. It made me extremely grateful to have an attached appendage and to take extra care with it from that moment on." He stood up and tugged the curtains over the small part of the window they weren't covering and then went back to the kitchen to make the tea now the kettle had boiled. "Well, to be totally honest, I'm usually too busy with my own come face to analyse yours, and in saying that, I think a girl actually looks really hot when she comes. The noises are a turn on." He got two of his biggest mugs from the cupboard and found his normal teabags. He had a cupboard full of herbal teabag packets that chicks gave him over the time because they were health fanatics and tried telling him he drank too much coffee. "I've only ever played air guitar, but now I want to test that theory. So breaking out the Guitar Hero next time we have a free night."
Serena dragged herself into a sitting position so she could lean against the back of the sofa and fold her legs under her as she waited for the tea that Chris was going to bring her. As a wave of nausea hit though she leaned forward to grab the mixing bowl and hugged it. "I don't actually mind your come face, you know. I think it's pretty hot. I know I really, really like making you come. That's a good thing, right? I like the noises you make me make." She managed a soft giggle before it turned into a groan of protest as her stomach lurched. "Sounds like a plan."
Chris paused when he was putting some sugar into the cups. "You okay?" he asked in concern, ready to head back over to the sofa if she needed him. He was still watching her when he clicked into multitasking mode to finish making the tea. He didn't make hers too strong or too sweet, and he didn't add milk, either. She could argue all she wanted, but it would just make her feel worse. He brought the mugs back over, setting hers down in easy reach and placed his beside it. He didn't sit, though. He disappeared up the hall and came back a moment later with a cool, damp cloth and sat beside her, pressing it across her forehead and holding it there. "You know, I think there might be a problem if you didn't like making me come. Last thing anyone wants is sex that's a chore. Trust me, I've been there and it sucks."
Serena slumped against Chris, using him to prop her up instead of the sofa. The bowl was still hugged to her chest, and Serena huffed out a breath. "I hate that feeling when you're not sure if you're going to throw up or not, and then you're just left in limbo feeling like shit and too scared to move in case it makes you throw up. You know?" She pressed her lips together as her stomach flip-flopped and counted to three before she tried to speak again. "How did you get there?"
Chris laughed and nodded. "You're seriously asking me that question? Yeah, I do know. But I also know it usually feels better to just do it because the limbo sucks. Not that I want to wish it on you. If you can get away with just the nausea, all the better. I'm just not sure what you usually do when you don't feel good. Because feel free to do it, I don't mind." He wasn't going to force her to drink the tea. It might turn out that she didn't even want it after all. He had probably made a good fifteen cups of tea when he had the flu, all of which ended up getting poured down the sink. "Random dating encounters. I know it sounds like a totally jerky thing to say, but some chicks just can't get there. Whatever position, however much foreplay and attention, they just... don't. A dude can only concentrate on a chick's clitoris for so long before he's going to explode in his pants."
She pouted as she looked at him from under the cloth and then held her hand up to indicate he needed to wait as the limbo suddenly wasn't limbo any longer and Serena vomited spectacularly into the mixing bowl. "Usually I just wind up curling up into a miserable ball and watching Mel Brooks movies," she finally replied as she tried to pick up the conversation. "I guess I was just wondering if the bad chore sex was more because of another exclusive you'd had. But I can see how you'd start to hate sex if the chick just was not getting pushed over the edge. I can't imagine not getting that moment of complete--" She broke off as she gave another heave, and her head nearly disappeared into the bowl with a moan.
Chris had her hair tucked back and curled around his hand out of her face quickly and he moved the cloth from ther forehead to the back of her neck. He was actually checking that she had a good hold on the bowl, too. "Sorry, love. Can't help with the Mel Brooks. How about Wayne's World?" he offered and rubbed his hand over hers that was clutching the bowl. His other hand twisted her hair up loosely so it would sit at the back of her neck and free him up to rub her back too. "I'm pretty sure that defies the meaning of exclusive. I might need to Google to double check though, or I could so be cheating myself out on a loop hole. But yeah. She fed me the 'It's me and not you' line, which is a passion killer as it is."
"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Serena said with a snort as she amused herself with linking the two Seinfeld references. She really was hungover. Only then did all the endless Seinfeld quotes start to come out. She really was a sucker for comedies. "Wayne's World? I could definitely go with Wayne's World. That's not exactly a bad substitute. You're really good at this comfort thing, Chris. Thank you."
Chris scrunched his nose up briefly with a smile. "How lucky is that? I want to be a doctor when I grow up and all," he joked. "Hey, you done for the minute? Let me get rid of this. Is your belly hurting? I can probably dig a hot water bottle out of the back of my closet somewhere. My grandma bought it for me. She got worried I was going to get cold when I moved outta home," he said in amusement.
Serena gave him a look. "Not all doctors have good bedside manners, and not all doctors have it transfer into their personal lives smoothly. You really are the total package." She gave a nod as she held the bowl out for him, trying not to look embarrassed at the fact that Chris had to deal with her vomit at all. This was not how she imagined going exclusive. "I'm okay without the hot water bottle. You really don't need to go to any trouble. You're already looking after me. Did she realise you were going to wind up in one of the warmest cities?"
"Come on," Chris said with a laugh, smiling down at her when he got up off the sofa again. "Don't need to go to any trouble? Just a couple of weeks ago, I puked all over you. I puked all over your bathroom, and kept you awake because I couldn't even stop puking when I was lying down. Isn't this the whole give and take thing everyone goes on about?" He disappeared up the hall to his bathroom, still calling out to her once he was in there. "My Nana would send me to the Bahamas with knitted socks and gloves to stop me getting a chill. Makes enough food for a small army when I visit her because she thinks I'm too skinny. Thinks I'm too tanned because she watched a show on the Discovery Channel about skin cancer, and that apparently doctors suck at diagnosising themselves..."
He soon came back, the bowl clean now that he was even wiping over with an antiseptic wipe just to be on the safe side. Once a doctor, always a doctor. "Ironic how dudes have no issues with their moms or nanas being all overprotective and caring for them, but when it comes to chicks, totally different story."
Serena's head had fallen against the sofa in the absence of Chris' shoulder and she had her knees hugged up against her chest, only she soon realised it probably wasn't a great idea to put pressure on her stomach and stretched her legs out in front of her as she watched him with the antiseptic. It was both very cute, and extremely doctorly. He'd fixed her clicker, and now he was cleaning her bowl. "Sure, it's the give and take thing but that doesn't mean we have to be okay with the give and take. I wasn't actually literally planning on giving you puke back in turn. Your nana sounds really sweet. I think I like her already. That's because dudes are secretly all mama's boys that love being protected, but they can't admit that to chicks."
Chris tilted his head. "Hm, I remember a wise person once saying to me those wise words of 'puke happens'. I'm okay with it, okay? I'm part of the reason you're in this condition to start with, but even if I wasn't, I'd still be here." He tossed the wipe into his trash can as he passed the kitchen and brought the bowl back to her, and took his seat again, putting a foot up on the coffee table and sprawling out a little. "I'm her only grandkid. She worries. But in a cool nana type way. She had my Mom young and my Mom had me young, so she's actually not really that old. Old enough to knit socks though, but you so cannot beat nana socks in the winter time. Love being protected, huh? I'm not buying that. I think I'd rather protect myself. In saying that, I like company. I don't like being on my own if I can help it."
"Old movies type company?" Serena couldn't help asking with a slight smirk. "But doesn't that mean you just wind up settling for whatever company comes along instead of waiting for the company that means something? The kind that can deal with puke... So we've both had the puke test, and we're both still here. Score one for Wayne's World. Mm... nana socks. My nana doesn't do so bad, and even when there's usually a hole right where my big toe goes her socks are still win. She doesn't tend to worry about me so much though other than asking if I've met any nice men yet, and why not, and when's the wedding."
Chris laughed, and then rested his tongue between his lips. "My Nana's the opposite. She thinks girls are going to take advantage of me because I'm a doctor and have a fit body. To think, most people find meeting the parents the big test. Not for me, any chick will have to pass the nana test. She also thinks I'm too promiscuous, and should settle down with a girl who wants to take care of me. I'm making her sound horrible, but she's not. She's very subtle about the whole deal, and she probably actually has a point. Most of the chicks I seem to end up with are superficial. But it's easy, you know? No guilt or concern when it never gets beyond a couple of encounters." He shot her a smirk. "As if being an independent woman with an MD under her belt and a residency in a top speciality isn't enough to satisfy the family, huh? Some chicks just don't want to get married these days."
Serena gave him a smile as she shook her head and set the bowl back on the table so she could move to hug Chris instead as she curled up against him. "She doesn't sound horrible. She's genuinely worried about you. And hey! I am not superficial. I am plenty deep. I just happen to really like sex with you. How are you going to settle down with a chick that takes care of you if you don't even like being taken care of, hm? You'll pick some girl that doesn't do that, but she might not pass the nana test so then where will you be?" She cleared her throat almost cautiously before she laughed a little. "None of it means anything without a man, apparently. Some don't, but mostly I think we're just happy to wait until it's really right."
Chris draped his arms loosely around her, careful not to squeeze her too much. He rested his cheek down on her head, thinking quietly for a moment. "Where will I be? Right here, it would seem. A secret relationship with someone I'm technically supposed to be teaching and mentoring. I never said I didn't like being taken care of, I said I don't like being grounded. There's a difference." He snorted softly. "Seriously, they need to realise this world is full of assholes and you're probably better off being independent and kick-ass so you don't rely on dipshits."
Serena didn't move for a moment as she let Chris' words wash over her. "You still are my teacher and mentor. We haven't fucked that up. It's working... pretty well, don't you think? I like you right here." She smirked just a little as she rest her head against his chest. "I am pretty kick-ass. I can tell specialists where to stick it, and get a kid's jaw back in place with some surgical tape, and a tongue depressor."
"I'm not sure," Chris admitted with a small laugh. "I don't think I've done much to mentor you since Proctor tore me a new one. The boundaries seem blurred there now. In saying that, you're a year in. You're actually not needing as much guidance as you used to. Every resident gets to a point where they wake up one day with confidence they didn't have the day before. I think you hit that point. Maybe it was the tongue depressors, maybe it was something else. Who knows? But you've definitely turned a corner."
"Maybe it's just because Dr T's been secretly feeding me his little pearls of wisdom. I still wouldn't be at this point without your help. I know you sticking up for me, and then Proctor ripping into you wasn't a positive, but please don't doubt yourself because of it. You're an amazing teacher, and a really great mentor. I mean it." She shifted her head to look at him. "I watched Proctor cut a freaking alligator open. How many people get to see that?"
Chris waved his hand a little. "Don't go getting worried you've broken me. You haven't. I'm just saying that you're wearing your big girl panties now, you don't need the overbearing Chief Resident breathing down your throat watching every move you make so you don't fuck up. You can roll with your own choices a little more now. That's a good thing, Dr Warren. Don't worry about me, I'll have other residents in the department to give a hard time, keep on their toes. And you can have Proctor and his scaly beasts all to yourself. That's something I could've done without. Not sure I'll ever play golf again in my life."
Serena looked down as she tugged at the waistband of his red boxers that she was wearing. "And I here I was thinking I was wearing the Chief Resident's panties. Huh." She grinned at him before she went back to being snuggled against him and smiled to herself. She really was wearing her big girl panties, and it just helped to hear Chris confirm it. "I can't picture you playing golf. It's not extreme enough."
"Good, because I actually really suck at it," Chris admitted, sniggering. "I'm never one to turn down a challenge, though. I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact I've only ever played when completely drunk?"
Serena laughed. "There's actually something you suck at? Maybe we played Wii Golf then last night? It was just naked and the condom thing wasn't even anything to stress about? I've never played. I think it's more the male doctors that take to golf than the female, and now I'm just really, really glad. It has to be pretty surreal to just suddenly be face to face with an alligator on a golf course."
"Just shows you that any situation, no matter how safe or calm it seems, can turn into trauma in the blink of an eye," Chris pointed out wisely. He was quite settled now, comfortable and relaxed, the hangover starting to ease off. He was just really glad they scored two days off running, because he hoped to be able to catch up with David the following day away from work. "I think that's why I prefer this thread of medicine. It's not about illness. It's about people who were okay one minute, hanging in the balance the next. It's all on the clock."
"And because of the adrenaline rush?" Serena suggested softly. "Trauma really is just like nothing else. It's not the same as being in an ER, there's a different vibe. It's all immediate, but with an ER you just get the everyday stuff like a broken arm, or a toy down a kid's throat. Having said that, even the simple ER cases have become something else. Like the golfer, Brad. The one Eva was looking out for."
Chris pressed his lips together. "The adrenaline rush reminds you that you're alive, and capable of saving lifes. That's all. I've always needed that. It proves to me I don't have to settle for anything. There's always something out there to experience. It's the more human side of things I struggle with. Looking a mother in the face and telling her that her kid just flatlined, or telling a newlywed his wife lost her legs. Just to play Devil's Advocate, Brad wouldn't be dead if he stayed in the ER like he was supposed to."
Serena shifted, moving to rest her head in Chris' lap just like he had rest his in hers a couple of weeks ago. Her legs stretched out on the sofa and she let go of a slow breath. "Do you ever think that when we cross deeper into the human side of things... something goes wrong?"
"No, I don't. Because I know that at the end of the day, we're only human too. We're not robots. Things are going to affect us, maybe some more than others. Some cases are going to make us lock ourselves in a bathroom stall and cry, others will make us want to go out and get piss-blind drunk. But then you have the other sort, where you go home knowing you did a fucking awesome job, and you saved a life that should never have been on your table in the first place. Or you get thanked by a family member for something you went beyond the realm of your job description to do just to make it a bit easier for them. I think things are going to go wrong no matter what, it's got nothing to do with whether we cross into the human side of things, because... well, we always are," Chris pointed out quietly.
Serena bit her lip as she listened, her hand resting on his knee as she looked at the coffee table. The nausea had ebbed for the moment, and Serena focused on just relaxing. "That's what they forget in med school, I think. There's so much focus on getting the knowledge right, on reading the books, on tests, on theory... They forget at the end of the day that we deal with people. Now I know why you kept telling me to focus on my connection to the patients. It's easy when you're cosseted in med school to just revert to the theory, and the safety of books."
"Actually, I just didn't want you to lose the ability to keep it real. Some doctors become desensitized to it, each patient is just a number. You don't want that. It's not why anyone becomes a doctor in the first place. Sure, there is the paypacket... which a lot don't realise isn't anything spectacular when you're a resident. But to do and see the things we do, it can never just remain as a want for more cash. No brain shallow enough to just be money-hungry can linger on blood and vomit and piss and body parts enough. It's gotta be about something else, and that something is different for every person. You just need to find what it is for you, which is part of what being a resident is all about." Chris scratched his hand over his chin, it starting to itch with the need for another shave. "Then you wake up one day and realise that your residency has gone like that." He snapped his fingers for emphasis.
"It was never about money for me. I mean, it's nice, but no... never that. Trauma is just... there's nothing like it. I like the feel of it, I like dealing with the patients and finding out their stories. I like the rush, but I think what keeps me going is just the fact that we can put the plug in. We stop people circling the drain. We save lives." Serena looked up at him. "What's going to happen when your residency is over?"
Chris shrugged. "I have no idea. It depends if MT1 offer me a fellowship or not. They're not obligated to. They're not actually obligated to offer me anything when my residency is over, so I guess time will tell." His stomach flopped a little when he thought again about the notion of not working for MT1. It was an unsettled feeling and he just didn't know what to make of it.
Serena took his hand and held it. "They'd be crazy to let you go anywhere. You're the genius cowboy."
Chris looked down at her, wetting his lips with a typical trademark smirk. "Yeah, and the one person who never really fell for that is the one who has to rec me for fellowship."
Serena smiled. "No, he's just the one person that will recognise you for your talent, and for your work. He doesn't pay attention to any hype."
"I'm not all hype!" Chris immediately protested, holding his hand up. "I happen to think I'm good at what I do. So I should be, I've worked hard enough for it! You don't see many burger flippers working forty hour shifts, do you?"
Serena struggled to sit up again, her face scrunched up in discomfort and protest and she covered her mouth to huff out a breath so he didn't get a face full of vomit breath. "I didn't mean it like that! I just meant that he doesn't listen to what other people think of their teammates so much. He asked me about you guys, but in the end he only cares about what we're capable of."
Chris just shrugged again. "I dunno, seriously. He might think I'd be better to move on. Rayner gave Eva her fellowship in the blink of an eye, which is cool. She deserves it. Proctor is a whole other story. Even if we have sort of turned a page, I guess. I'm starting to get him a bit more, I just can't decide if that's a good thing, or a frankly scary thing. Thing is, both Beta and Charlie teams have residents who would love to step into an Alpha team fellowship. Proctor might want to give them a shot."
"Maybe they'll just swap you and you can still be at MT1?" Serena suggested before she just shrugged a shoulder. It wasn't like she could begin to guess what went through Proctor's mind either. "What started the breakthrough for you and Proctor?"
"I wouldn't stay if that happened," Chris admitted, knowing it was something he decided on a long time ago. "Not that Beta and Charlie aren't highly skilled surgeons too, and great teams. But if I get bumped off Alpha, I'll know that's my sign to move on. I don't really think I believe that things in life happens for reasons. You stop thinking that when you work in trauma, because sometimes, there is no fathoming it happening for a reason. But I do believe that sometimes you get signs in your life that trigger decisions. For me, that would be one of them. And I borrowed his bike."
Serena nodded before she rest her head on his shoulder. "I can't really blame you for taking it as a sign. I was lucky I got accepted to Alpha Team as a resident. I think I'd take it as a bad sign too if I got shunted elsewhere. His bike?"
Chris nodded in confirmation. "His bike," he repeated and scratched his fingers over his chest slowly as he thought. "A mate of mine just up and made a huge decision. It's sort of made me stop and think about a few things."
"Like what?" Serena asked as she rubbed her hand against his stomach.
Chris shook his head. "Nothing important. Mostly just wondering what's next for me. I don't ever really stop and think about things like that. I just figure if other people are doing it, maybe I should be. You know how when you talk to someone sometimes, you just get this niggle in your gut that they're keeping something from you? But at the same time, you know it's not something they want to be pushed about and you figure they would tell you if it was important, so you think you're being stupid anyway? That's probably what set me off. That, and Proctor's bike."
Serena smirked just a little bit. "You're starting to think like Proctor. Maybe you caught his cooties off the bike? Careful, don't start talking in weird British metaphors. Even if you are the team's wicket keeper. So you've honestly never ever thought about what the future would hold for you? There's never been an end plan for you?"
"No," Chris admitted with a surprised tone in his voice to hear himself confirm it out loud. "Always the one to live for the moment, whatever that moment is throwing in my lap. The thing is, on one side, there is Proctor. Mr Mysterious himself, has secrets, has a reason to have secrets. He nearly lost his life. I get why he's the way he is. Then on the other side, there is my mate, who, when I last talked to him, sounded for a moment there oddly like Proctor and now I'm wondering what he is hiding. Then set all that aside, and I wonder, well why the fuck don't I have any secrets like that? Maybe I've never had a moment to wake up and realise that life is something else completely and I've missed the whole light at the end of the tunnel thing. But it's not like I'm miserable or wondering why the hell I'm here. I'm not. I love life, I love every day of it, even if some suck now and again. But it's the here and now, I've never bothered to wonder about any higher meanings. Maybe I'm the odd one."
Serena wet her lips and lifted her head to look at him. She raised her hand to touch the stubble along his jawline, and smiled softly. "You're having an exclusive secret relationship with your resident. I think that's actually pretty high up on the serious secrets list. Maybe you didn't have heart surgery, or whatever your friend has had, but you've got me. And I don't mind being that kind of a secret for you. Just like you're my secret. I don't have anything else. I don't live my life like you do, but that doesn't mean I have skeletons in my closet, or things I don't tell people. I'm not Proctor... I'm not your mate. We're all different. That doesn't mean you're an odd one out. Just means we're all unique snowflakes."
Chris had to put his hand up and scratch the back of his head. "I can't start to analyse what we have going here. If I do, I'll talk myself into more reasons why we shouldn't than why we should. I figure we're just rolling with it, having fun. We're not hurting anyone, so it's fine. I don't really get much of the rest of it, I just know that these past couple of months, there seems to be a lot of stopping and thinking about things. Not just me, but everyone around me too. Maybe we aren't rolling with life as much as we think we are."
Serena took his face between her hands. "Then maybe we need to stop stopping. Just stick with the rolling... Although right now I'm okay without the rolling. The idea of any kind of motion is not making me feel so good."
Chris shrugged and nodded. "Sure, babe. Whatever is good," he agreed, even if he knew it wasn't going to stop his brain ticking over now and again, usually when he got tired and the brains cells thought that because his body was still going, the brain should be too. "I think this is the first time I've ever been deep whilst hungover."
Serena kissed the tip of his nose. Even if it was her own suggestion she had no idea if she would keep the promise, but she could try. "I won't tell anyone. This is actually the first time I've been looked after while hungover."
Chris looked at her with a disbelieving laugh. "What? No way! Seriously? What sort of dudes have you been dating?"
Serena pulled her mouth to the side. "Way. And clearly the wrong sorts. I'm deadly serious that this is the first time. I actually can't remember being with a guy when I've been hungover. They always left. Or slept through it."
"I'm not sure if you're trying to tell me you have dud taste in guys or that... you've never really had a serious relationship?" Chris asked, tilting his head a little as he tried to figure the answer out for himself.
Serena touched her nose. "The latter. I've always wanted to meet a real guy - not a psycho - it's just been... a long journey. You're real."
Chris was laughing now, though not at her. He just always found amusement in the most obscure places. "How do you know I'm not a psycho? Actually, I'm wondering what it says about me if your boyfriend mojo is so in the crapper."
Serena arched an eyebrow before her bottom lip jutted out in a pout. "More like what it says about me. I suck."
Chris scrunched his nose up, hoping she was just exaggerating. "Maybe you've just been looking too hard?" he suggested.
Serena pointed at her eyes then at him. "I'm not even looking right now."
Chris just looked at her quietly for a moment. "Maybe you should keep your options open. One day something not-so-secret might come along and you'll miss it."
"We'll just see what happens," Serena murmured.
By now, it was the early afternoon after their unforgettable night before. Alligators, bossly UST, amputations, warm beer, singing and Gummi Worms. It didn't get much more rollercoaster than that. Chris just knew it must've been a really good night... or early morning rather... because he and Serena both woke up hungover with little memory beyond singing to the Peas in the hospital carpark. All he knew was that he woke up in nothing but one sock and Serena apparently had his boxers on. There was probably no point in even trying to analyse the situation. Sometimes as a trauma surgeon, you just had to let it go and feel the wind in your hair. Sometimes, like any reckless behaviour, there was also consequences and this time, that had been the realisation that there may have been drunken sex without protection. Serena was on the pill, like any responsible woman having casual sex should be, but they always still used condoms just to keep the habit.
Though, with hangovers came puking and Chris had gotten nervous that the pill wouldn't be affective enough. The last thing he needed in his last year of trauma residency was a little blond bundle of joy running around calling him daddy. He had managed to dig one of his script pads out from the back of his desk drawer and wrote Serena up a script for the morning-after pill just to be on the safe side. They both knew they'd slipped up, but they were also responsible adults most of the time, they could deal with this without making it any sort of blown up issue. He had reluctantly dragged on a pair of trackpants, a t-shirt and some flip-flops complete with a cap on his head so he didn't need to worry about drunk/bed/post-fuck hair in public, and then had jumped on his bike to cycle to the pharmacy to pick up the medication for her... but only after leaving her with a two litre bottle of water and appreciating the view of her in his boxers, even if she was badly hungover.
Unfortunately, he now had to add insult to injury. The morning-after pill had side effects, and while some people didn't get bothered by them, if they were, they weren't particularly pleasant. She had taken the pill just over an hour ago now, and Chris was standing at the breakfast bar of his kitchen, elbows resting on it as he read the leaflet from the pharmacist about the side effects. His apartment wasn't huge, he decided to forgo living and room space in favour of having an awesome balcony and being walking distance to the beach with beach views. The kitchen and living room were one room, open-planned, with two bedrooms and a bathroom up the hall... and not much else. He glanced over at where Serena was lying on the sofa as he waited for the kettle to boil for some tea. "Emergency Post-coital Contraception," he read out with a smirk and then took a sip from his bottle of Gatorade. He was still feeling seedy himself, but after throwing up just before going to the pharmacy, he felt a lot better in general, being just left with a raging headache now. "How long do you think it goes before it stops being 'post' coital and starts being 'pre' coital for the next round? Do you think there's some sort of scale? Okay, so side effects. Nausea, most common, and-or vomiting. Check." He pointed to the large mixing bowl sitting on the coffee table beside her he had giving her in case of emergencies. The bucket he had pinched off her during his period with the flu was now sitting out on his balcony and housing his surfboard wax. "Might also be abdo pain, fatigue, headache, dizziness and breast tenderness. Hn. You get all this from one tiny little pill that the rest of us have to live through a night of boozing for. It's a hangover in a pill."
He set the leaflet back down and rounded the counter to head over to the sofa. He sat down on the edge of it, his hip right near her stomach, and started to softly massage her neck. "Could also be some bleeding in a few days, but we'll worry about that when the time comes." He gave her a small smile. "How are you feeling? Let me know if you want a shower or to go to the bathroom so I can hover strategically. I don't want you passing out and hurting yourself."
Serena had her hand over her eyes to try and block out the sunlight from the windows and when she moved it to look at Chris she had to scrunch up her face and squint. "Unh... That's how I'm feeling. I think I can only talk in Wookie. Words aren't good. Words hurt. Too much effort." She let out a contented moan though as his fingers worked against her neck and reached out to rest a hand in his lap in a half-hearted embrace. She was still wearing his boxers, and his her favourite tank top - the same one from the night before. "Fingers good. Fingers very good. I don't think I want a shower yet. You might need to put up with me being the stinky one today. And I think... post-coital stops when you move on to do something else, or are gearing up for round two."
Chris scrunched his nose up. "See, that just makes my head hurt. What do they call it when you're continuously going from one round of sex to another? I say they call it crazy. Did you know there is a condition that can make you have a hundred orgasms a day? You would never want to have sex again. It would be like eating Big Macs and nothing else. Not to mention that you would constantly have come face, which couldn't be attractive," he mused, his hungover brain surprisingly contemplative. "Do you want tea? Anything? If you were going to have any funky side effects, you would be starting to feel them around now. If you need a hand, just let me know, okay? Thank hell we have a day off."
"There's definitely nausea. Lots and lots of nausea. Only that could just be the hangover. Can you turn the sun down? I don't like the sun today..." Serena shifted onto her side and reached up with her other hand to stroke her fingers against his back. "A hundred orgasms? That's no fun. Just like one of the side effects of the little blue pills is a permanent erection. As much as I love going a few rounds, I can't imagine all that blood rushing south permanently is a good thing." She arched her eyebrow at him. "Do you not like my come face? Is it true what they about guys playing guitars? That when they do their solos, that's their come face?" She tugged at the back of t-shirt gently and gave him a small smile. "I'd love some tea. And it's nice just being here with you."
Chris nodded and then winced. "Priapism. Believe it or not, I have a dude come through trauma with that my first year. It was so horrible for him, he tried to cut it off. That is one surgery I will never, ever forget. It made me extremely grateful to have an attached appendage and to take extra care with it from that moment on." He stood up and tugged the curtains over the small part of the window they weren't covering and then went back to the kitchen to make the tea now the kettle had boiled. "Well, to be totally honest, I'm usually too busy with my own come face to analyse yours, and in saying that, I think a girl actually looks really hot when she comes. The noises are a turn on." He got two of his biggest mugs from the cupboard and found his normal teabags. He had a cupboard full of herbal teabag packets that chicks gave him over the time because they were health fanatics and tried telling him he drank too much coffee. "I've only ever played air guitar, but now I want to test that theory. So breaking out the Guitar Hero next time we have a free night."
Serena dragged herself into a sitting position so she could lean against the back of the sofa and fold her legs under her as she waited for the tea that Chris was going to bring her. As a wave of nausea hit though she leaned forward to grab the mixing bowl and hugged it. "I don't actually mind your come face, you know. I think it's pretty hot. I know I really, really like making you come. That's a good thing, right? I like the noises you make me make." She managed a soft giggle before it turned into a groan of protest as her stomach lurched. "Sounds like a plan."
Chris paused when he was putting some sugar into the cups. "You okay?" he asked in concern, ready to head back over to the sofa if she needed him. He was still watching her when he clicked into multitasking mode to finish making the tea. He didn't make hers too strong or too sweet, and he didn't add milk, either. She could argue all she wanted, but it would just make her feel worse. He brought the mugs back over, setting hers down in easy reach and placed his beside it. He didn't sit, though. He disappeared up the hall and came back a moment later with a cool, damp cloth and sat beside her, pressing it across her forehead and holding it there. "You know, I think there might be a problem if you didn't like making me come. Last thing anyone wants is sex that's a chore. Trust me, I've been there and it sucks."
Serena slumped against Chris, using him to prop her up instead of the sofa. The bowl was still hugged to her chest, and Serena huffed out a breath. "I hate that feeling when you're not sure if you're going to throw up or not, and then you're just left in limbo feeling like shit and too scared to move in case it makes you throw up. You know?" She pressed her lips together as her stomach flip-flopped and counted to three before she tried to speak again. "How did you get there?"
Chris laughed and nodded. "You're seriously asking me that question? Yeah, I do know. But I also know it usually feels better to just do it because the limbo sucks. Not that I want to wish it on you. If you can get away with just the nausea, all the better. I'm just not sure what you usually do when you don't feel good. Because feel free to do it, I don't mind." He wasn't going to force her to drink the tea. It might turn out that she didn't even want it after all. He had probably made a good fifteen cups of tea when he had the flu, all of which ended up getting poured down the sink. "Random dating encounters. I know it sounds like a totally jerky thing to say, but some chicks just can't get there. Whatever position, however much foreplay and attention, they just... don't. A dude can only concentrate on a chick's clitoris for so long before he's going to explode in his pants."
She pouted as she looked at him from under the cloth and then held her hand up to indicate he needed to wait as the limbo suddenly wasn't limbo any longer and Serena vomited spectacularly into the mixing bowl. "Usually I just wind up curling up into a miserable ball and watching Mel Brooks movies," she finally replied as she tried to pick up the conversation. "I guess I was just wondering if the bad chore sex was more because of another exclusive you'd had. But I can see how you'd start to hate sex if the chick just was not getting pushed over the edge. I can't imagine not getting that moment of complete--" She broke off as she gave another heave, and her head nearly disappeared into the bowl with a moan.
Chris had her hair tucked back and curled around his hand out of her face quickly and he moved the cloth from ther forehead to the back of her neck. He was actually checking that she had a good hold on the bowl, too. "Sorry, love. Can't help with the Mel Brooks. How about Wayne's World?" he offered and rubbed his hand over hers that was clutching the bowl. His other hand twisted her hair up loosely so it would sit at the back of her neck and free him up to rub her back too. "I'm pretty sure that defies the meaning of exclusive. I might need to Google to double check though, or I could so be cheating myself out on a loop hole. But yeah. She fed me the 'It's me and not you' line, which is a passion killer as it is."
"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Serena said with a snort as she amused herself with linking the two Seinfeld references. She really was hungover. Only then did all the endless Seinfeld quotes start to come out. She really was a sucker for comedies. "Wayne's World? I could definitely go with Wayne's World. That's not exactly a bad substitute. You're really good at this comfort thing, Chris. Thank you."
Chris scrunched his nose up briefly with a smile. "How lucky is that? I want to be a doctor when I grow up and all," he joked. "Hey, you done for the minute? Let me get rid of this. Is your belly hurting? I can probably dig a hot water bottle out of the back of my closet somewhere. My grandma bought it for me. She got worried I was going to get cold when I moved outta home," he said in amusement.
Serena gave him a look. "Not all doctors have good bedside manners, and not all doctors have it transfer into their personal lives smoothly. You really are the total package." She gave a nod as she held the bowl out for him, trying not to look embarrassed at the fact that Chris had to deal with her vomit at all. This was not how she imagined going exclusive. "I'm okay without the hot water bottle. You really don't need to go to any trouble. You're already looking after me. Did she realise you were going to wind up in one of the warmest cities?"
"Come on," Chris said with a laugh, smiling down at her when he got up off the sofa again. "Don't need to go to any trouble? Just a couple of weeks ago, I puked all over you. I puked all over your bathroom, and kept you awake because I couldn't even stop puking when I was lying down. Isn't this the whole give and take thing everyone goes on about?" He disappeared up the hall to his bathroom, still calling out to her once he was in there. "My Nana would send me to the Bahamas with knitted socks and gloves to stop me getting a chill. Makes enough food for a small army when I visit her because she thinks I'm too skinny. Thinks I'm too tanned because she watched a show on the Discovery Channel about skin cancer, and that apparently doctors suck at diagnosising themselves..."
He soon came back, the bowl clean now that he was even wiping over with an antiseptic wipe just to be on the safe side. Once a doctor, always a doctor. "Ironic how dudes have no issues with their moms or nanas being all overprotective and caring for them, but when it comes to chicks, totally different story."
Serena's head had fallen against the sofa in the absence of Chris' shoulder and she had her knees hugged up against her chest, only she soon realised it probably wasn't a great idea to put pressure on her stomach and stretched her legs out in front of her as she watched him with the antiseptic. It was both very cute, and extremely doctorly. He'd fixed her clicker, and now he was cleaning her bowl. "Sure, it's the give and take thing but that doesn't mean we have to be okay with the give and take. I wasn't actually literally planning on giving you puke back in turn. Your nana sounds really sweet. I think I like her already. That's because dudes are secretly all mama's boys that love being protected, but they can't admit that to chicks."
Chris tilted his head. "Hm, I remember a wise person once saying to me those wise words of 'puke happens'. I'm okay with it, okay? I'm part of the reason you're in this condition to start with, but even if I wasn't, I'd still be here." He tossed the wipe into his trash can as he passed the kitchen and brought the bowl back to her, and took his seat again, putting a foot up on the coffee table and sprawling out a little. "I'm her only grandkid. She worries. But in a cool nana type way. She had my Mom young and my Mom had me young, so she's actually not really that old. Old enough to knit socks though, but you so cannot beat nana socks in the winter time. Love being protected, huh? I'm not buying that. I think I'd rather protect myself. In saying that, I like company. I don't like being on my own if I can help it."
"Old movies type company?" Serena couldn't help asking with a slight smirk. "But doesn't that mean you just wind up settling for whatever company comes along instead of waiting for the company that means something? The kind that can deal with puke... So we've both had the puke test, and we're both still here. Score one for Wayne's World. Mm... nana socks. My nana doesn't do so bad, and even when there's usually a hole right where my big toe goes her socks are still win. She doesn't tend to worry about me so much though other than asking if I've met any nice men yet, and why not, and when's the wedding."
Chris laughed, and then rested his tongue between his lips. "My Nana's the opposite. She thinks girls are going to take advantage of me because I'm a doctor and have a fit body. To think, most people find meeting the parents the big test. Not for me, any chick will have to pass the nana test. She also thinks I'm too promiscuous, and should settle down with a girl who wants to take care of me. I'm making her sound horrible, but she's not. She's very subtle about the whole deal, and she probably actually has a point. Most of the chicks I seem to end up with are superficial. But it's easy, you know? No guilt or concern when it never gets beyond a couple of encounters." He shot her a smirk. "As if being an independent woman with an MD under her belt and a residency in a top speciality isn't enough to satisfy the family, huh? Some chicks just don't want to get married these days."
Serena gave him a smile as she shook her head and set the bowl back on the table so she could move to hug Chris instead as she curled up against him. "She doesn't sound horrible. She's genuinely worried about you. And hey! I am not superficial. I am plenty deep. I just happen to really like sex with you. How are you going to settle down with a chick that takes care of you if you don't even like being taken care of, hm? You'll pick some girl that doesn't do that, but she might not pass the nana test so then where will you be?" She cleared her throat almost cautiously before she laughed a little. "None of it means anything without a man, apparently. Some don't, but mostly I think we're just happy to wait until it's really right."
Chris draped his arms loosely around her, careful not to squeeze her too much. He rested his cheek down on her head, thinking quietly for a moment. "Where will I be? Right here, it would seem. A secret relationship with someone I'm technically supposed to be teaching and mentoring. I never said I didn't like being taken care of, I said I don't like being grounded. There's a difference." He snorted softly. "Seriously, they need to realise this world is full of assholes and you're probably better off being independent and kick-ass so you don't rely on dipshits."
Serena didn't move for a moment as she let Chris' words wash over her. "You still are my teacher and mentor. We haven't fucked that up. It's working... pretty well, don't you think? I like you right here." She smirked just a little as she rest her head against his chest. "I am pretty kick-ass. I can tell specialists where to stick it, and get a kid's jaw back in place with some surgical tape, and a tongue depressor."
"I'm not sure," Chris admitted with a small laugh. "I don't think I've done much to mentor you since Proctor tore me a new one. The boundaries seem blurred there now. In saying that, you're a year in. You're actually not needing as much guidance as you used to. Every resident gets to a point where they wake up one day with confidence they didn't have the day before. I think you hit that point. Maybe it was the tongue depressors, maybe it was something else. Who knows? But you've definitely turned a corner."
"Maybe it's just because Dr T's been secretly feeding me his little pearls of wisdom. I still wouldn't be at this point without your help. I know you sticking up for me, and then Proctor ripping into you wasn't a positive, but please don't doubt yourself because of it. You're an amazing teacher, and a really great mentor. I mean it." She shifted her head to look at him. "I watched Proctor cut a freaking alligator open. How many people get to see that?"
Chris waved his hand a little. "Don't go getting worried you've broken me. You haven't. I'm just saying that you're wearing your big girl panties now, you don't need the overbearing Chief Resident breathing down your throat watching every move you make so you don't fuck up. You can roll with your own choices a little more now. That's a good thing, Dr Warren. Don't worry about me, I'll have other residents in the department to give a hard time, keep on their toes. And you can have Proctor and his scaly beasts all to yourself. That's something I could've done without. Not sure I'll ever play golf again in my life."
Serena looked down as she tugged at the waistband of his red boxers that she was wearing. "And I here I was thinking I was wearing the Chief Resident's panties. Huh." She grinned at him before she went back to being snuggled against him and smiled to herself. She really was wearing her big girl panties, and it just helped to hear Chris confirm it. "I can't picture you playing golf. It's not extreme enough."
"Good, because I actually really suck at it," Chris admitted, sniggering. "I'm never one to turn down a challenge, though. I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact I've only ever played when completely drunk?"
Serena laughed. "There's actually something you suck at? Maybe we played Wii Golf then last night? It was just naked and the condom thing wasn't even anything to stress about? I've never played. I think it's more the male doctors that take to golf than the female, and now I'm just really, really glad. It has to be pretty surreal to just suddenly be face to face with an alligator on a golf course."
"Just shows you that any situation, no matter how safe or calm it seems, can turn into trauma in the blink of an eye," Chris pointed out wisely. He was quite settled now, comfortable and relaxed, the hangover starting to ease off. He was just really glad they scored two days off running, because he hoped to be able to catch up with David the following day away from work. "I think that's why I prefer this thread of medicine. It's not about illness. It's about people who were okay one minute, hanging in the balance the next. It's all on the clock."
"And because of the adrenaline rush?" Serena suggested softly. "Trauma really is just like nothing else. It's not the same as being in an ER, there's a different vibe. It's all immediate, but with an ER you just get the everyday stuff like a broken arm, or a toy down a kid's throat. Having said that, even the simple ER cases have become something else. Like the golfer, Brad. The one Eva was looking out for."
Chris pressed his lips together. "The adrenaline rush reminds you that you're alive, and capable of saving lifes. That's all. I've always needed that. It proves to me I don't have to settle for anything. There's always something out there to experience. It's the more human side of things I struggle with. Looking a mother in the face and telling her that her kid just flatlined, or telling a newlywed his wife lost her legs. Just to play Devil's Advocate, Brad wouldn't be dead if he stayed in the ER like he was supposed to."
Serena shifted, moving to rest her head in Chris' lap just like he had rest his in hers a couple of weeks ago. Her legs stretched out on the sofa and she let go of a slow breath. "Do you ever think that when we cross deeper into the human side of things... something goes wrong?"
"No, I don't. Because I know that at the end of the day, we're only human too. We're not robots. Things are going to affect us, maybe some more than others. Some cases are going to make us lock ourselves in a bathroom stall and cry, others will make us want to go out and get piss-blind drunk. But then you have the other sort, where you go home knowing you did a fucking awesome job, and you saved a life that should never have been on your table in the first place. Or you get thanked by a family member for something you went beyond the realm of your job description to do just to make it a bit easier for them. I think things are going to go wrong no matter what, it's got nothing to do with whether we cross into the human side of things, because... well, we always are," Chris pointed out quietly.
Serena bit her lip as she listened, her hand resting on his knee as she looked at the coffee table. The nausea had ebbed for the moment, and Serena focused on just relaxing. "That's what they forget in med school, I think. There's so much focus on getting the knowledge right, on reading the books, on tests, on theory... They forget at the end of the day that we deal with people. Now I know why you kept telling me to focus on my connection to the patients. It's easy when you're cosseted in med school to just revert to the theory, and the safety of books."
"Actually, I just didn't want you to lose the ability to keep it real. Some doctors become desensitized to it, each patient is just a number. You don't want that. It's not why anyone becomes a doctor in the first place. Sure, there is the paypacket... which a lot don't realise isn't anything spectacular when you're a resident. But to do and see the things we do, it can never just remain as a want for more cash. No brain shallow enough to just be money-hungry can linger on blood and vomit and piss and body parts enough. It's gotta be about something else, and that something is different for every person. You just need to find what it is for you, which is part of what being a resident is all about." Chris scratched his hand over his chin, it starting to itch with the need for another shave. "Then you wake up one day and realise that your residency has gone like that." He snapped his fingers for emphasis.
"It was never about money for me. I mean, it's nice, but no... never that. Trauma is just... there's nothing like it. I like the feel of it, I like dealing with the patients and finding out their stories. I like the rush, but I think what keeps me going is just the fact that we can put the plug in. We stop people circling the drain. We save lives." Serena looked up at him. "What's going to happen when your residency is over?"
Chris shrugged. "I have no idea. It depends if MT1 offer me a fellowship or not. They're not obligated to. They're not actually obligated to offer me anything when my residency is over, so I guess time will tell." His stomach flopped a little when he thought again about the notion of not working for MT1. It was an unsettled feeling and he just didn't know what to make of it.
Serena took his hand and held it. "They'd be crazy to let you go anywhere. You're the genius cowboy."
Chris looked down at her, wetting his lips with a typical trademark smirk. "Yeah, and the one person who never really fell for that is the one who has to rec me for fellowship."
Serena smiled. "No, he's just the one person that will recognise you for your talent, and for your work. He doesn't pay attention to any hype."
"I'm not all hype!" Chris immediately protested, holding his hand up. "I happen to think I'm good at what I do. So I should be, I've worked hard enough for it! You don't see many burger flippers working forty hour shifts, do you?"
Serena struggled to sit up again, her face scrunched up in discomfort and protest and she covered her mouth to huff out a breath so he didn't get a face full of vomit breath. "I didn't mean it like that! I just meant that he doesn't listen to what other people think of their teammates so much. He asked me about you guys, but in the end he only cares about what we're capable of."
Chris just shrugged again. "I dunno, seriously. He might think I'd be better to move on. Rayner gave Eva her fellowship in the blink of an eye, which is cool. She deserves it. Proctor is a whole other story. Even if we have sort of turned a page, I guess. I'm starting to get him a bit more, I just can't decide if that's a good thing, or a frankly scary thing. Thing is, both Beta and Charlie teams have residents who would love to step into an Alpha team fellowship. Proctor might want to give them a shot."
"Maybe they'll just swap you and you can still be at MT1?" Serena suggested before she just shrugged a shoulder. It wasn't like she could begin to guess what went through Proctor's mind either. "What started the breakthrough for you and Proctor?"
"I wouldn't stay if that happened," Chris admitted, knowing it was something he decided on a long time ago. "Not that Beta and Charlie aren't highly skilled surgeons too, and great teams. But if I get bumped off Alpha, I'll know that's my sign to move on. I don't really think I believe that things in life happens for reasons. You stop thinking that when you work in trauma, because sometimes, there is no fathoming it happening for a reason. But I do believe that sometimes you get signs in your life that trigger decisions. For me, that would be one of them. And I borrowed his bike."
Serena nodded before she rest her head on his shoulder. "I can't really blame you for taking it as a sign. I was lucky I got accepted to Alpha Team as a resident. I think I'd take it as a bad sign too if I got shunted elsewhere. His bike?"
Chris nodded in confirmation. "His bike," he repeated and scratched his fingers over his chest slowly as he thought. "A mate of mine just up and made a huge decision. It's sort of made me stop and think about a few things."
"Like what?" Serena asked as she rubbed her hand against his stomach.
Chris shook his head. "Nothing important. Mostly just wondering what's next for me. I don't ever really stop and think about things like that. I just figure if other people are doing it, maybe I should be. You know how when you talk to someone sometimes, you just get this niggle in your gut that they're keeping something from you? But at the same time, you know it's not something they want to be pushed about and you figure they would tell you if it was important, so you think you're being stupid anyway? That's probably what set me off. That, and Proctor's bike."
Serena smirked just a little bit. "You're starting to think like Proctor. Maybe you caught his cooties off the bike? Careful, don't start talking in weird British metaphors. Even if you are the team's wicket keeper. So you've honestly never ever thought about what the future would hold for you? There's never been an end plan for you?"
"No," Chris admitted with a surprised tone in his voice to hear himself confirm it out loud. "Always the one to live for the moment, whatever that moment is throwing in my lap. The thing is, on one side, there is Proctor. Mr Mysterious himself, has secrets, has a reason to have secrets. He nearly lost his life. I get why he's the way he is. Then on the other side, there is my mate, who, when I last talked to him, sounded for a moment there oddly like Proctor and now I'm wondering what he is hiding. Then set all that aside, and I wonder, well why the fuck don't I have any secrets like that? Maybe I've never had a moment to wake up and realise that life is something else completely and I've missed the whole light at the end of the tunnel thing. But it's not like I'm miserable or wondering why the hell I'm here. I'm not. I love life, I love every day of it, even if some suck now and again. But it's the here and now, I've never bothered to wonder about any higher meanings. Maybe I'm the odd one."
Serena wet her lips and lifted her head to look at him. She raised her hand to touch the stubble along his jawline, and smiled softly. "You're having an exclusive secret relationship with your resident. I think that's actually pretty high up on the serious secrets list. Maybe you didn't have heart surgery, or whatever your friend has had, but you've got me. And I don't mind being that kind of a secret for you. Just like you're my secret. I don't have anything else. I don't live my life like you do, but that doesn't mean I have skeletons in my closet, or things I don't tell people. I'm not Proctor... I'm not your mate. We're all different. That doesn't mean you're an odd one out. Just means we're all unique snowflakes."
Chris had to put his hand up and scratch the back of his head. "I can't start to analyse what we have going here. If I do, I'll talk myself into more reasons why we shouldn't than why we should. I figure we're just rolling with it, having fun. We're not hurting anyone, so it's fine. I don't really get much of the rest of it, I just know that these past couple of months, there seems to be a lot of stopping and thinking about things. Not just me, but everyone around me too. Maybe we aren't rolling with life as much as we think we are."
Serena took his face between her hands. "Then maybe we need to stop stopping. Just stick with the rolling... Although right now I'm okay without the rolling. The idea of any kind of motion is not making me feel so good."
Chris shrugged and nodded. "Sure, babe. Whatever is good," he agreed, even if he knew it wasn't going to stop his brain ticking over now and again, usually when he got tired and the brains cells thought that because his body was still going, the brain should be too. "I think this is the first time I've ever been deep whilst hungover."
Serena kissed the tip of his nose. Even if it was her own suggestion she had no idea if she would keep the promise, but she could try. "I won't tell anyone. This is actually the first time I've been looked after while hungover."
Chris looked at her with a disbelieving laugh. "What? No way! Seriously? What sort of dudes have you been dating?"
Serena pulled her mouth to the side. "Way. And clearly the wrong sorts. I'm deadly serious that this is the first time. I actually can't remember being with a guy when I've been hungover. They always left. Or slept through it."
"I'm not sure if you're trying to tell me you have dud taste in guys or that... you've never really had a serious relationship?" Chris asked, tilting his head a little as he tried to figure the answer out for himself.
Serena touched her nose. "The latter. I've always wanted to meet a real guy - not a psycho - it's just been... a long journey. You're real."
Chris was laughing now, though not at her. He just always found amusement in the most obscure places. "How do you know I'm not a psycho? Actually, I'm wondering what it says about me if your boyfriend mojo is so in the crapper."
Serena arched an eyebrow before her bottom lip jutted out in a pout. "More like what it says about me. I suck."
Chris scrunched his nose up, hoping she was just exaggerating. "Maybe you've just been looking too hard?" he suggested.
Serena pointed at her eyes then at him. "I'm not even looking right now."
Chris just looked at her quietly for a moment. "Maybe you should keep your options open. One day something not-so-secret might come along and you'll miss it."
"We'll just see what happens," Serena murmured.