Hell, Cox had thought, up until maybe two nights ago, that he was one of Those Guys. It didn't stop him from trying like hell, but the fact of it was that for all his trying he hadn't actually expected to get much of anywhere since Carla had started dating Turk the scalpel jockey. The fact that he actually had a chance with her... well, it was the best thing he'd heard in months, but it was also making him nervous as all hell. Even more than he'd been on their last first date.
He had promised a nice jacket, so he was wearing a nice jacket, although he was already uncomfortable in it. He thought maybe he should have gotten flowers, but the degree to which he would hate himself after buying them was unbearable to think about. He was doing the best he could, all right? He'd been married to Jordan for five years -- after that much emotional unavailability, even thinking about flowers was progress
( ... )
Okay. Here it went. Letting out a slow breath, checking her reflection one more time in the mirror, Carla opened the door.
Hey, he cleaned up nice. Not that she didn't know that - after so many years of working together, of course she did. But it was always kind of a shock to see him in something other than a lab coat and those horrible pants. A nervous smile crossed her face before easing into something more natural.
No matter how freaked out by all this she was (and she was, make no mistake), it was still Cox. Hell, how many lunches had they had together, gossiping about the people in the hospital? How many times had they sat at the nurses' station and mocked the interns? He was her friend, one of her best, and hell if she was going to let something stupid like a date ruin a night out with him.
"You look nice," she told him, grin lifting one corner of her mouth. Grabbing her coat, she eased it on and raised an eyebrow. "Shall we?"
Holy mother of random-ass diety, she was really gorgeous. Hell, he thought she looked pretty coming off an eighteen hour shift covered in blood and God only knew what else, but the killer dress and everything? Yeah, wow. He stared at her for a second, then huffed out a nervous laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Oh yeah? You're not so bad yourself, lady."
Okay. He could totally handle this. Third time's the charm, right? It seemed to work for any number of sports teams, so there was no reason it couldn't work for him. "Come on." He jerked his head towards the end of the hallway. "Let's get outta here."
She looked really good, had he mentioned that yet? "You look pretty," he added as they started walking. "Just... so you know." Of course he'd seen her dressed up before -- he'd known her for ages and ages and, unlike him, she seemed to actually enjoy the dressing-up thing every so often -- but there was something all new and thrilling about having her dress up for him. Even if she'd done that before, too
( ... )
See, now that was more like it. A small grin lurking around the corners of her mouth, Carla glanced over at him. "Good to know." She knew that somewhere underneath all that self-destructive cynical need to constantly one-up the world around him while simultaneously pushing away anyone who might possibly care was a charming, nice guy. Somewhere deep, deep under.
At least this time around, she knew how she felt. And there wasn't the threat of Jordan lurking over their heads. No, this was definitely going to work. They were going to make it work.
One hand went up to rest lightly on his arm, tentatively, if Carla could ever be said to do anything tentatively. As if she wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do. The whole situation was awkward. They'd been friends so long, that the 'getting to know you' part was...pretty much over. But then there was the fact that there were feelings, there, that neither one of them had ever really explored. So the first-date (or third-first-date) jitters almost felt silly, if not for the
( ... )
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He had promised a nice jacket, so he was wearing a nice jacket, although he was already uncomfortable in it. He thought maybe he should have gotten flowers, but the degree to which he would hate himself after buying them was unbearable to think about. He was doing the best he could, all right? He'd been married to Jordan for five years -- after that much emotional unavailability, even thinking about flowers was progress ( ... )
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Hey, he cleaned up nice. Not that she didn't know that - after so many years of working together, of course she did. But it was always kind of a shock to see him in something other than a lab coat and those horrible pants. A nervous smile crossed her face before easing into something more natural.
No matter how freaked out by all this she was (and she was, make no mistake), it was still Cox. Hell, how many lunches had they had together, gossiping about the people in the hospital? How many times had they sat at the nurses' station and mocked the interns? He was her friend, one of her best, and hell if she was going to let something stupid like a date ruin a night out with him.
"You look nice," she told him, grin lifting one corner of her mouth. Grabbing her coat, she eased it on and raised an eyebrow. "Shall we?"
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Okay. He could totally handle this. Third time's the charm, right? It seemed to work for any number of sports teams, so there was no reason it couldn't work for him. "Come on." He jerked his head towards the end of the hallway. "Let's get outta here."
She looked really good, had he mentioned that yet? "You look pretty," he added as they started walking. "Just... so you know." Of course he'd seen her dressed up before -- he'd known her for ages and ages and, unlike him, she seemed to actually enjoy the dressing-up thing every so often -- but there was something all new and thrilling about having her dress up for him. Even if she'd done that before, too ( ... )
Reply
At least this time around, she knew how she felt. And there wasn't the threat of Jordan lurking over their heads. No, this was definitely going to work. They were going to make it work.
One hand went up to rest lightly on his arm, tentatively, if Carla could ever be said to do anything tentatively. As if she wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do. The whole situation was awkward. They'd been friends so long, that the 'getting to know you' part was...pretty much over. But then there was the fact that there were feelings, there, that neither one of them had ever really explored. So the first-date (or third-first-date) jitters almost felt silly, if not for the ( ... )
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