 | ShatterStorm Productions
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| ShatterStorm Productions
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Primary Character(s): Kerry Weaver
Disclaimers: See Index page for full disclaimer info
++ Kerry ++
It was a big damned chance we took. From college on, I've lived in Chicago. Twenty plus years of my life; hell, it's over half my life now. And I just gave it all up because she asked me to. I've turned into something of a lovesick sap, the kind of person I used to mock…and secretly wished to be. It's all Zo's fault, and I do my best to remind her of that every single day, right along with professing my deepest adoration and love for her.
We've been in Las Vegas for a month now and the biggest change is that it's so damned quiet. It's eerie just how silent everything is. I'm used to the heartbeat of the city: the blare of traffic, the wail of the sirens, the rumble of the El, the muted sounds of the marine traffic out on the lake, the ear-splitting whine of the planes flying into and out of O'Hare and Midway, the hustle and bustle of the sheer numbers of people populating my former home. Not to mention the sounds of the ER if I would catch a catnap at the hospital. I learned to expect it, and I always felt out of place when I would travel.
And then Zo and I moved to Las Vegas. I can't say that it was necessarily a bad decision. In a lot of ways, it's the best decision I've ever made. Well, okay, one of the best. Another of my best decisions is lying asleep next to me, her heartbeat the grounding sound that anchors me. The decision we made was in fact a mutual one, made to enhance our lives. As far as Robert Romano knows, I'm on an eight week vacation, finally using up a very scary amount of accumulated personal time. In fact, I'm going to give him a call tomorrow and offer him my resignation. I'll go back in a couple of weeks to finalize any paperwork I need to, and to visit everyone again. But we've uprooted the entirety of our lives to come to this place.
This is a flat, seemingly endless desert that blinds you when the sun hits it just right. And yet, there's a lovely garden near the large central building that has something green and blooming year round, or so Dace assures me. Dace has also made sure to get a large studio built for Zo. I believe she'd said something about encouraging Zo's muse. Of course, Zo made some crack about keeping me happy and satisfied, which in turn keeps her happy and satisfied and I, of course, blushed like nobody's business. But yes, as soon as Dana medically releases her, Zo will be joining in on the studio business.
I know Zo's antsy to get back to her painting. The past six weeks of her recovery have been hell on both of us. Basically, being cooped up in bed has left my sweet lover cranky and more than a little depressed, especially because she wants to be out exploring and soaking up the sunshine. It doesn't help matters that she's been unusually quiet and broody, not to mention the issues she's been having with food, especially anything involving peppers. Just the smell of a bell pepper makes her nauseous; she's practically reduced to tears at the mention of salsa, since the smell triggers her gag reflex. And I, for one, know exactly how much she's loved salsa. It really makes cooking for her an exercise in potentially futile difficulties. But I persevere.
That spill of hers really did a number on her, and I honestly couldn't keep her away from being so close to sunshine and her family. The memories of how she'd perked up more than a bit when Art came to see her pretty much solidified my decision when it was brought up to me. It wasn't exactly easy to give up a lifetime in Chicago. But for Zo, for this mercurial, bouncy woman I've grown to adore, I would do pretty much anything. Even put up with some mighty stressful mood swings these past several weeks. There have been days I've wanted to drug her into unconsciousness, just for some relief from the constant upheaval. But I've restrained myself…mostly. And I've let her sit outside for long hours, hoping the sunshine would boost her spirits. It's most certainly helped, but I think she'll do even better once she can be fully mobile again.
A soft sigh against my chest brings me back to the present, and I can't help nuzzling closer to press a light kiss against her collarbone. "Go back to sleep, Zo," I murmur, hands lightly stroking her body in an attempt to lull her back into slumber. She slept restlessly last night, and I want to make sure she's well rested. She mutters something under her breath and shifts against me. Without hesitation, I move with her, rolling onto my back so she can stretch out against my side. I feel the smile spreading across my face as Zo settles back into sleep, nose nestled into the crook of my neck, one of her hands reaching up to drape heavily across one of my breasts.
I can't help the shiver of desire slithering down my spine at her touch on my skin. There's a part of me that wants to wake her up and make love to her until she's a worn out pile of goo. That'll certainly ensure she'll sleep well. But at the same time, I know better than to distract her from her sleep. Besides, it's not even dawn yet. Making love this early would be oh so decadent and so decidedly not normal for me.
Well, not normal for me before I met Zo. She crashed into my life like a whirling dervish, destroying everything I'd grown to consider normal. Any resistance I erected in defense, she tore it down with a well placed smile, a kiss, a happy laugh, a roving hand. Looking back, I finally realize I had no standing chance to fend her off. Oh, if I'd really not wanted her attentions, I'm sure she'd have stopped. But that's the thing, you see I wanted Zo's attention. I wanted all of her. I wanted to be flattered by this lithe, gorgeous, young thing that made pretty much everyone drool, male or female. It made me feel like I wasn't just the evil bitch that ran the ER with an iron fist. Zo made me remember just how very much I was alive. And that's a very wonderful feeling, something I don't want to take for granted any longer.
I shift slightly and turn my head to gaze out the window. My god, but it gets dark at night out here. There's so little light pollution where we are, even the close to Vegas. I can see the whole of the sky filled with stars; it literally takes my breath away every single night. And it's so damned quiet; even after a month, I'm still not used to the intense silence that falls over us like a blanket, mostly at night. I've already promised Zo that we'll go do some kind of camping once she's completely healed. I want to have that alone time to commune with nature and my lover. I want to get to know this new home of mine. There are things that are completely different from what I'm used to, the scorpions and rattlesnakes highest among them. Oh, and I can't forget the fact that it can get so damned frigid at night in the desert, despite it being, well, a desert.
I sigh softly, just barely making out the first pale tendrils of dawn creeping up from the horizon. The fact that our bedroom has an east facing window has thrilled me to no end. Zo's hated it with a passion, but then my sweet love has never really been a morning person, even before the accident. I've always adored sunrise. When I lived in Africa, I was always one of the first people up in our village. My parents weren't happy with my indulging the local elders and religious leaders by helping them in their worship to the sun each morning, but it was such a painstakingly beautiful way to greet the day.
Perhaps I'll have to consider restarting that tradition again. I always did feel much more relaxed, more centered, more myself when I was indulging in the daily sun greeting rituals. And if I really think about it, I could probably remember the moon rituals, too. Zo wouldn't mind those, I'm guessing. They'd fall right into her normal hours of optimum operation. Plus, I'm sure she'd like a lot of the more "personal" rituals I witnessed and participated in as I grew up in Africa. A slow, steady rush of desire creeps up my spine at the memories, spreading out through my body like the rays of sunlight heralding the new dawn.
I'll only have another hour or two before I need to get up and start making breakfast for this new extended family of mine. I've find it a particularly enticing challenge to find and create meals that will tempt everyone's palates, even the shy and far too skinny vegetarian Sara. Dace, I've learned, has been craving a far more meat laden diet. Given her animal tendencies, this doesn't surprise me. It's been a wonder and a pain in the ass to create meals that she and Sara will both enjoy, as well as everyone who falls between them on the meat spectrum. And those two are the ones I most focus on because they're just too damned skinny. I've been telling Dace that forever, it seems. Now, I've finally got a chance to do something about it. It's quite a challenge to incorporate a strange taste in such miniscule, minute amounts that Dace's enhanced senses won't notice them. I've not been successful yet, but with time I know I'll best her.
A soft whine of need from the foot of the bed reminds me of the dog that has been Zo's constant companion in this whole situation. Carefully, I extricate myself from Zo's loose hold on me; I don't want to wake her just to let Stinky out to do his business. Dace told me she could get a dog door put in, but I'm still more than a bit too apprehensive of the scorpions and rattlesnakes to really feel comfortable with that option. Slipping into my warm robe, I huff at Stinky for getting overly excited when he gets off the bed, and I lean across the mattress to soothe Zo back to sleep. His enthusiasm wanes some, tail tucked between his legs as we head out of the bungalow and over to the corner of the garden where he's allowed to do his business. Oddly enough, he's been quite quick in learning exactly where he can go and when. It's been a wonderfully grounding experience for him.
"You're up early." Dace's soft voice startles the hell out of me. She's stretched out on a large blanket on the ground. Once done with his morning routine, Stinky saunters over to stretch out next to the lanky blonde, who starts to scratch behind his ears.
"So are you," I reply, moving to join them. "Catherine and Sara aren’t due to be home for another couple of hours. Something on your mind?"
She shrugs, her silhouette becoming more pronounced as the sun begins its slow ascent to light the day. "Just couldn't sleep. Sometimes it happens when she's at work."
I nod, remembering the nights Zo would be at the clubs or painting. It's not a happy sensation. "She'll be home soon enough, right? And then you'll have time to pamper her as only you can."
She smiles and leans up on an elbow to study my face. "You're antsy to have Zo cleared, aren't you?" I can hear the amusement and commiseration in her tone.
"I just want her to get out of this depressive funk she's been in," I admit honestly. "I know it's been hard on her, but I'm worried it could go permanent. And that's not Zo." I shiver at a light wind moving across the garden.
"What's the matter, Weaver? Naked under that little robe?" she teases.
I roll my eyes and bat at her arm. "Shut up, Dace," I grumble good naturedly, swatting at her head, and pray she can't see the light blush rising up my face. "Listen, how about this? Give me a minute to take Stinky back so Zo doesn't wake up to both of us gone. I'll change into something a littler warmer and come back. We can talk until Catherine and Sara come home. Will that help?"
Her gratitude is clear in her voice. "Thanks, Kerry, but it's not necessary. You should be with Zo."
"It's not a problem," I reply, shifting to stand up. "Besides, it's not like I'm going to go back to sleep. I'll probably sit up and watch the sun come up anyway. I always did that when I grew up in Africa. It's a wonderful way to start the day. But it's your decision to join me or not."
She's quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I think that sounds good. Thanks, Kerry."
"Any time, Dace," I reply, leaning over to ruffle my fingers through her close-cropped hair. "Be right back."
Stinky and I head back, and I stroke Zo's face and hair as the dog settles in next to her. Before donning clothes, I let Mangas out of her cage and suppress a chuckle as the ferret slithers up onto the bed to curl up between Zo and Stinky. They really do have a strange little relationship, those three. Once I slip into sweats, I grab some water and make my way back out to the garden, where Dace looks as though she's fallen into a light sleep. I don't want to disturb her, but I've a feeling she already knows I'm there.
She pats the blanket next to her, and I settle myself in the lotus position. Well, as close as I can get to the lotus position without really overtaxing my hip. "Does it really hurt that much?"
"Sometimes," I reply honestly. "Zo was right, you know. This weather has certainly helped with cutting down on the flare ups. Then again, not being on my feet so much in the ER has helped a great deal, as well."
"Have you considered surgery?" she asks, rolling over onto her side to study me. Her hand reaches out toward me, but she stops before she actually makes contact.
"It's okay, you can touch. And no, surgery won't work for me. This is the result of nerve damage from when I contracted polio as a child in Africa. No amount of surgery can fix that." I can't help the slight bitterness from creeping into my voice.
The light, tentative touch of her fingertips doesn't even startle me, and I revel in the slight warmth leeching in through the material of my sweatpants. "Seriously? There's nothing to help it?" As she talks, her touch becomes bolder, exploring the whole of my hip.
"Unfortunately, no. I haven't found anything long term at least. Massage has been a good panacea. Zo's quite good at massaging the pain away, but I can only ask so much of her."
Dace snorts softly. "Zo would do anything you asked her to do, Kerry, and you know it."
"I don't want to take advantage of her, Dace. That's not fair to either of us."
"She does it willingly," comes her soft reply. "She'd let you know if you were taking advantage of her. She loves you so unconditionally, Kerry. You're a damned lucky woman to have her."
"Just as you're lucky to have Catherine."
"No, that's different," she counters quickly. "The bond Catherine and I have is unique, but it's not exactly what you and Zo have. You're a lot like Art and Janet in that respect. Those Goldston women would do anything for you and your cousin."
I smile softly at the praise, knowing in my heart of hearts that she's speaking the truth. And I can't help but shiver slightly at the realization once again that Zo is everything I've wanted and needed to feel whole again. I would die without her.
"In that, you and I are alike," Dace says softly, and I'm surprised to find I'd said it aloud. Or is she just reading my mind? "I'm not sure I'd actually die if Catherine was gone, but I'd certainly be less than myself."
We grow silent as the light grows around us. I close my eyes, lifting my head to the coming warmth, and let my breathing even out to the long, even cadence that was once such an unconscious part of my mornings. The words and sounds of the ritual to greet the sun run through my mind and I feel my hands automatically beginning to work through the motions. I feel a lightness in my heart I hadn't expected at these sensations. And I feel something click into place deep inside, something that makes me feel completely "right" again.
"What were you doing?" Dace asks in a curious tone as I open my eyes and let out a happy sigh.
I meet her gaze with a newfound stillness and peace I had honestly thought would never truly be in my life again. "A modified version of something I used to do every morning when I grew up in Africa. Mlungisi and I did this every single morning with the tribal elders and spiritual leaders. My parents were pretty strict missionaries and didn't care much for it, but it didn't stop me. As long as I still professed my devotion to the Christian God, they let me do pretty much anything I wanted. I knew more about the ways of Mlungisi's tribe than any other white person there. I'm technically still an honorary member of his tribe."
She cocks her head to the side and studies me for a long moment. "Well, hello there," she finally says, one hand reaching up to stroke my face. "This is the person I could sense underneath the steely doctor. And this is the person that Zo adores so unconditionally and would do anything for. Don't let go of this person, Kerry. You are incredibly beautiful like this, inside and out."
I flush hotly at her praise, and only look away to turn my face into the warm rays of the sun again. "I think I lost track of this part of me," I eventually admit softly. "But coming here, being in this desert, it's reminded me of what I was as a child, want I'd wanted to be."
"And now you can do whatever it was. Kerry, you've been away from that hospital for a month now. Do you honestly miss it? Well, I suppose I should ask if you crave it in your life."
After a moment of thought, I shake my head. "No, I actually don't. I hadn't really thought about it. But if I'm going to be any assistance to you out here, I'm going to need to practice medicine somewhere."
"Kerry, any hospital out here would kill to have you on its staff. And if that doesn't work out, I'm quite sure Anastasia can find work for you do to keep practicing medicine. But what do you want to do?" And then she cocks her head to the side again. "Save that answer. Zo's awake. Go to her, Kerry. We can finish this conversation later, after breakfast maybe."
I lean over, placing a hand on each side of her head, and press a gentle, thankful kiss to her lips. "Thank you, Dace."
"For what?" she asks, squirming in my grip, but she doesn't pull away.
"For reintroducing me to myself, to what I'm supposed to be."
