Broken Glass
Kel had hoped that by taking his own car, he could wedge some distance between himself and Dixie's smothering. But instead of getting himself a little breathing space, as he'd hoped, driving himself to work only seemed to make Dix crazier. She'd spent the previous evening grilling him about his whereabouts when he'd gotten to her apartment, and refused to be satisfied that he'd been stuck at work until she called the admission desk, the base station, and the fire department to corroborate his story. To add insult to injury, Stanford had actually stepped into the discussion to remind Kel of the great and glorious favor Dix was doing by opening her home to them. As much as it rankled Kelly, he gave in and let Dix drive him to work again.
Not that she gave him any peace after giving in. She was just worried about him, she was only trying to help, she was worried he was slipping down some awful path he'd not be able to find his way back from, etc., etc. In the fifteen or so minutes from her apartment to the hospital, she'd talked so much she actually had to head off to the pharmacy to find cough drops for her throat. Kel could only thank God for small miracles.
The small miracles kept coming - performing emergency surgery wasn't the sort of thing to wish for, or to take delight in, but while Dix was on the hunt for throat lozenges, Kel had come in and done both first thing. The relieved look on Morton's face when he'd walked in a few minutes early, and the terrified faces of a young family in the waiting room were all he'd needed to see to know where he'd be spending his first hour. It was a good hour, well spent. The young mother of three would keep her leg, Morton was able to concentrate on learning technique, and Kel was finally, finally able to lose himself in the work that made him who he was. He could almost forget the horror of his personal life, as he concentrated on someone else's horror.
Kel stepped out to the waiting room, still in bloody, sweaty scrubs, to talk to the man and his eerily silent children huddled together in a corner. The kids looked at Kel's shirt, and gaped, wide eyed. He smiled at them, and at the father. "She's going to recovery now. You can see her in a couple of hours. A nurse will come fetch you."
The father sagged with palpable relief. "You mean she's going to be okay?"
"Eventually. She'll need physical therapy, and likely cognitive therapy as well - and there's the possibility that her leg won't be the same again. But she'll live, and with a lot of hard work, she should be able to live a full, normal life."
The children did start to cry, then. But the eldest came and wrapped his arms around Kel's middle, heedless of the smeared muck on his shirt. Kel stumbled with the force of the boy's embrace, and patted at the child's shoulder awkwardly. He looked at the father helplessly, alarmed by this outward display of gratitude from a strange child. When the dad showed no signs of rescuing Kel, he looked round the room for a candy striper or a student nurse to pass the family onto - and froze as his eyes lit upon a tall dark haired man hovering by the admissions desk. The one from the hotel. The one who'd been helping Johnny Gage disrupt his emergency room just a few days ago. The new fire captain.
Kel peeled himself away from the weeping family, mumbling something he hoped sounded sincere, and, with one last hard look at the dark haired man, went over to the admit clerk on duty. "I won't be available for anything but emergencies this morning." The clerk gave him a no-shit look. "I mean emergencies only I can deal with. The building needs to be on fire or something." He frowned, and glanced over at the man, who was watching him with open alarm. Kel shook his head, and growled to the clerk, "You know what I mean."
"Yes, Dr. Brackett."
He watched the clerk make a note in one of eleven billion notebooks always on hand at the desk, and then turned his attention to the dark haired man. "Wait for me in there, " he said, gesturing to his office. The man followed the line of Kel's gesture to the office door, and blinked, apparently surprised. Kel watched him reach for the knob uncertainly, and waited for him to disappear inside. He then stalked off to the locker room to shower and get back into his street clothes.
When he returned to his office, the tall dark man was standing behind his desk, reading the diplomas mounted on the wall. Kel shut the door quietly, and went to grab his lab coat. He had to squeeze past the trouble maker to get to the coat rack next to his desk, who jumped and yelped at Kel's light touch. Kel paused. "I need to get my coat," he said.
The other man blushed and fell back into Kel's seat. He seemed to realize where he was sitting, and scrambled back to his feet, scurrying around the other side of the desk, until he was in the far corner of the office.
Kel stared at the man's terrified scrambling. "Are you alright?"
"Fine, fine!" The man wrung his hands and looked around the room as if he'd been trapped in a cell.
Kel continued to stare. "I assumed you wanted to speak to me - am I wrong about that?"
"Uh... no."
Kel nodded and shrugged into his jacket. "Cat got your tongue?"
"No. Yes. Sorry."
Kel smiled tightly. "Pretend we're in a bar, and you're trying to pick up a hustler, if that'll help get the words flowing. But get them flowing, or get out of my office. I have work to do."
The man's face went red. "I - listen, this isn't urgent, I just got off shift, and I thought I would -" He stopped himself. "One of my men -" He stopped again. "I wanted - shit."
Kel went back to his door and locked it. He gestured at the various seats all over the office. "Relax... uh... Captain?" It was his turn to blush. "I apologize, I've forgotten your name."
"Stanley. Hank Stanley." Hank Stanley chose the bench near the door, and sat down, looking weary and lost.
"Captain Stanley." Kel cleared his throat. "You're perfectly free to speak in here."
Captain Stanley cleared his throat, and nodded. He pulled a square of folded papers from his coat pocket, and fiddled with it, until he had two long stapled sheets in his hands. "I came to bring you this."
"What is it?"
"A rental list."
Kel scowled. "A rental list? For what? Why?"
Stanley looked worried. "Well, one of my paramedics, John Gage, mentioned yesterday that you might be in the market for a new place."
Heat rose in the back of Kel's neck as he recalled his last run in with the young man - and the strange way he and Dix had closed him out of their conversation. "John Gage," he said stiffly. Stanley nodded, oblivious to Kel's darkened mood. "So... you ran out and found me a list?"
Stanley shrunk down in the seat. "No, I already had one. You know, for the job. I had to move." He held the list out further. "It's probably out of date by now, but you can at least get the company name, to get a new list. They had a lot of nice places available. Real high class stuff."
Kel took the paper without looking at it. "Why didn't you just pass this on to Johnny?"
Hank shrugged. "He was out on a run when the shift ended, and I didn't find the list until I got in my truck to go home." He smiled a little. "Plus... I wanted to... apologize, I guess."
"For what?"
Hank shrugged. "For whatever it was I did that made you take off like you did." The bloom of heat that had settled into Kel's collar returned full force, and flared up into his cheeks. He looked away, unsettled by his swirling emotions. The silence stretched out between them, but Kel could think of nothing to say to make things right. Finally, Hank got to his feet, and began to edge towards the door. "Anyway, Doc, good luck with the house hunting-"
"Wait a minute."
Captain Stanley waited. He looked back at Kel with a soft, open expression. His clear eyes, sometimes gray, sometimes gold in the yellowish light of the office, seemed to soften and shine. Hope. There was hope on the Captain's face, and for the life of him, Kelly didn't know why.
Kel moved in closer, and held his hand up to shake. He was going to shake hands, and that was all. Captain Stanley's face fell a little, but the look of disappointment soon shuttered off his long, expressive face, and he took Kel's outstretched hand in his.
They were going to shake hands. And that would be the end of it.
Stanley's hand was warm and soft, and just the tiniest bit damp, like he'd been sweating. Worrying. Kel slipped his hand against the Captain's, to dry it a little. Can't shake hands with a damp hand.
Confusion registered on the taller man's face, but he didn't object to the way Kel's hand wrapped around his, and scrubbed, gently, fingertips to palm. He didn't object when Kel closed the space between them, so that not even a sheet of paper could slip between their bodies. He simply waited, just as he'd been commanded.
And then they came together in a kiss. This was not Kel's plan. His plan was - well, not this. But it was happening and there was nothing for it but to follow through.
Long fingers ghosted over Kel's arms to settle in his hair. The Captain smelled like coffee and soap and just the tiniest whiff of char. His body was long and strong, like a horsewhip. The man was a greyhound, graceful and lean and desperate to please. He followed Kel's lead like a moth following a flame.
Soon Kel was on his back, on his desk, half conscious of the expensive telephone on one corner, and the giant glass ashtray in another. He was conscious of them, but he couldn't make himself set the things carefully aside, or move to the bench or a chair or the floor or any other place without a bunch of expensive shit that could fall to the floor and bring the whole hospital running to his locked office. All he could do was hold on and try to be quiet while Captain Stanley squeezed into the heated space between his parted thighs to tease their belts open with one hand.
Kel gasped as the chilled hospital air hit his suddenly exposed skin, raising goosebumps in the trail of hair from his navel to the dark warmth of his balls. But the chill was soon warmed and forgotten as that long, powerful body pressed close to his own. A hand, long and thin and still a little sweat damp, slid between their bodies, into the secret opening between them, and set them both alight.
Kelly gritted his teeth, and buried his face in the taller man's long, hot neck. He tried to stop the whine building in the back of his throat, but it was coming - long, slow, quiet, but sure. His thighs shook and he scraped his heels against the shiny dark wood on the side of his desk, and he felt his fingernails sink deep into the hard, wiry triceps of his unexpected lover. Kel knew the grip had to hurt, but there was no complaint about rough treatment, not like at their first encounter.
His breath became ragged, and he was at the edge of sanity, of reality, and he could feel his body following his soul up that peak, and he knew in a moment, he would topple over, and the whole world would know, and they'd be stripped of whatever accolades they'd carried this far, he and this foolish fire captain, and he didn't care, he wanted to tip over that edge and fall forever, just one more time, even if it cost him-
"Dr. Brackett to Treatment Room 5, stat. Dr. Brackett to Treatment Room 5, stat."
They froze. Kel pulled back and looked at the man above him, one knee bent on the desk, the other hand bracing his weight next to Kel's head. He stared back with wide, wild eyes, and then scrambled backwards. He spun around, as likely hiding his shamed face as his half flagging erection. Kel sat up and slid off the edge of his desk, and zipped and tucked and buckled quickly. He looked at the back of the tall man who stood ramrod straight and refused to face him. He sighed angrily. He wanted to say something, but what was there to say? Sorry we couldn't get our rocks off? Thanks for the rental list and the aborted handjob? If I can get away from my best friend and my ex-ish boyfriend, maybe we can finish what we started?
"See you, Foxy," Captain Stanley said quietly, his eyes fixed on the blank space one side of his desk.
No, there was nothing to say. Kel left him standing there, and rushed to his emergency.
She found him in his office at lunch. "You're avoiding me, Dr. Brackett. I wanna know why."
"I'm not avoiding you, Dix." Even he could hear the insincerity in his voice. "I've been busy." Still sounded fake.
"Well, I'm glad you found time to take a break." She gestured to the withered apple and dry old sandwich in front of him. "Listen, if I pay for it, will you come with me to get something more appealing than yesterday's rejects?"
No, no, no, dammit woman, let me be, let me be! "What'd you have in mind?"
"Nothing fancy. Just something that doesn't look fossilized." She grabbed his stale lunch, and paused at the sheaf of papers underneath. "Vacant apartments, huh? Moving out?"
Kel's face began to burn as the memory of hot, strong hands on his hips flashed in his head. "Someone dropped it off," he mumbled.
Dix gave him an incredulous look. "Kel, you don't have to make excuses - it's not like you haven't made yourself perfectly clear the last couple of days. If you're ready to get a new place, that's your business."
"I'm not making excuses! Someone came to my office this morning and brought me that list! Not just anyone, either Dix. Someone from the fire department - someone from Station 51. He came here with that list and told me one of my paramedics told them all I need a place to live. It's not hard to figure out where said paramedic got that idea from, either - since I saw you two take off for parts unknown as soon as you both laid eyes on me!"
"Hey, now, hold on - I never told Johnny you needed a place! I want you to stay!"
"I never said otherwise - I said I know where he got the idea from." She tried to argue again, but he shouted her down. "He probably got there all by himself after you told him my business. And anyway, I don't even know if I want to move into an apartment yet, so don't go getting all hot at me! You don't want me making excuses about this list? I'm not! Just keep in mind, I've only got this list because everyone wants to help me, but no one - not you, not Gage, not Captain Whatshisname - can actually stop to ask me what I need!"
"Okay," Dix said, holding her hands up in defeat. "I'm sorry." She looked at the sandwich in her hands, and grimaced. "Look, I came in here to tell you I'm gonna get some Chinese. You're welcome to tag along."
Kel fumed for a few seconds, before snatching up the rental list, and swapped his lab coat for his jacket. "Sure, Dix." He shoved the list at her, and forced a smile he wasn't quite feeling. "Here, we can look at the list and see if there's anything good on it. I can't lock you out of your own bedroom forever, and besides, no matter what happens, I can't go back..." He shuddered and shut his eyes against the memory of his neighbors, the broken windows, the disheveled living room. He shook off the memory and forced himself to look at her, to ignore the worried look on her face. "Plus, you might find a better condo in here."
Dix smiled back, and walked on out ahead of him. He could almost believe the smile reached her eyes.