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‘Surprise’ birthday parties were never much of a shock at County General anyways. Nothing was really ever a secret here anyways, especially not when the nurses spent half of their shifts chatting about it in their not so quiet whisper-yell voices, and barely even stopping when Lucy walked by the admit desk.
“At a bar? For Lucy? Didn’t know she was much of a drinker,” the muffled, but very recognizable voice of Doug Ross heard from inside the lounge, along with all the nurses shushing him in unison was enough to make Lucy chuckle quietly at her seat.
Lucy pushed her charts away, too frazzled to focus anyways. A bar? Who would be there? What would she wear? Although it was nice to hear all her coworkers panic about keeping a secret, Lucy knew she should go walk out and tell them she knew. She took a deep breath before standing up and walking out of the doctor’s lounge. The charting wouldn’t ever be getting done anyways.
Before Lucy could make her way to the admit desk, she heard the person she didn't, or did, wanted to see the most. She could never truly decide.
“A party? For who?” Lucy continued to propel the door open and make her way over to where Carter was now standing.
“For me,” she spoke firmly, the faux smirk evident on her face. Collectively, Chuny, Carol, Haleh, and Lydia all turned to Doug, giving him the nastiest death stare Lucy had ever bear to witness. It was enjoyable, actually. There was something so beautiful about watching the nurses giving doctor’s shit. Just like they deserved.
“It’s your birthday soon?” He leaned in close to her, the heat practically radiating off of his body. Much to her dismay, the genuinity, but also slight sadness mixed with panic, present in his voice made her heart flutter, not that she’d ever admit that to anyone. The idea of admitting that John Carter, the man whore of the ER, made her feel ‘things’ actively compelled her to vomit. Lucy preferred to stay somewhat oblivious, even if she knew it was true, even if everyone could tell.
It didn’t matter anyway. Fuck. Lucy knew. Everyone knew. Maybe Carter did.
With most things in life, Lucy had tried to have dignity. She tried to keep her composure. She tried to always keep a nice, pleasant, happy smile on her face. But with John Carter, there was no ounce of dignity left in her. There couldn’t be. He made it impossible to have any virtue left, given with how he seemed keen on psychologically torturing her. And it would always work. With John Carter, she’d always come back for more, despite any internal shame it could, and eventually would, cause.
Everyone else had diverted their attention away from them, specifically because it felt a little too awkward to be intruding on their unnecessarily tension filled conversations. Like he always did, he moved closer, attempting to close the distance in a way that he was just far away enough for it to seem ‘normal.’ Whatever. Lucy definitely didn’t notice. Or even care. Everything’s fine.
“Yeah, uh, sorry,” sorry? Lucy couldn’t help but to internally cringe. Speak, Lucy. Normally. She clears her throat and straightens her back. “I mean, it just never came up. Didn’t see the point in it,” she walked over towards the charts, but Carter followed. She wanted to do something, anything to seem like she wasn’t, unfortunately, extremely nervous around him. They had barely spoken in months — who could blame her?
“You know mine though, don’t you?”
Lucy let out a soft chuckle. “Of course I do,” instead of fidgeting with the charts in front of her, her gaze diverted towards Carter. “June fourth. Nineteen-seventy.”
“I didn’t know you memorized that much about me.”
She bit her lip, trying so, so very hard to not let a stupid grin creep up on her face. If she did that, he’d win. She didn’t want him to win. Not yet at least. Good to know he was still just as irritating.
“Well, you do talk about yourself often.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” a quiet snicker emerged from his lips. Her eyes followed the movement of his hand, analyzing how Carter touched her shoulder, and squeezed it tight just as he turned away to swiftly hurry over to trauma one with Doctor Greene. Lucy just stood there, wide-eyed and still, frozen in time perhaps. Now across the room from Lucy, he exclaimed, “I’ll see you later!”
The statement echoed through Lucy’s head long after Carter was whisked away by Mark. I’ll see you later. It should mean nothing to her, truly, why wouldn’t he be there anyways? Deep down, it made something she’d tried so hard to repress, a feeling of warmth for her mentor, bubble up. It was wrong, in more ways than one, but that didn’t stop her before, did it?
“He’ll see you later, eh?” Chuny stated while standing next to Lucy, evidently ogling her and Carter the whole time.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” Lucy attempted to let the words flow out of her lips naturally, but by the end of the sentence, her face was already heating up. Like usual, whenever Lucy brought up Carter around Chuny, she was snickering like no other. “Oh, shut up,” Lucy raised her hand, slightly slapping her on the shoulder.
It wasn’t the ideal place. It was hot, clammy even, and the bartenders seemed, to put it lightly, over hosting ‘parties.’ Given that it was no longer a ‘surprise’ party, most of the Emergency Department staff didn’t even bother to deny Lucy her entry. The bar had picked up, most of the people she figured would come, Doug, Cleo, Peter, Jing-Mei, Dave, and most of the ER nurses, had showed up, wishing Lucy a happy birthday, then subsequently moving over to the already packed bar. Maybe it was somewhat early for heavy drinking, but most of them could only manage to get out of the claws of the ER by five.
Lucy’s hair was in slightly messy, double braids. She was clad in a tighter fitting black tank top, along with dark-wash jeans she’d usually never wear, but at her feet, like usual, were her black combat boots. Along with Carol walking by, telling her she looks nice, and Chuny blatantly calling her hot, she felt, well, sexy actually.
It became all too unpleasant when Dale showed up. Dale Edson, surgical resident. Her.. boyfriend? Something like that. They’d gone out on a few dates, kissed some, had sex once. It wasn’t all bad, but he was definitely not, to put it lightly, her forte. They didn’t put an end to it, but Lucy definitely stopped calling.
“Happy birthday,” his voice came off too aggravating for her liking. The same arrogant smirk he tended to wield remained on his face. Could he be sincere for five fucking minutes? Unluckily for Lucy, he attempted to lean in for a kiss, but she quickly evaded it, taking a quick step back.
“Thank you, Dale,” she flashed a soft, pretend smile. Instead of him reciprocating, his smirk turned into vacancy. Like her other coworkers, he walked towards the bar.
Despite most of them residing at the bar, it was nice to see an abundance of people show up for her. Even the cake, which had the saying ‘Happy Birthday Lucy!’ in swirly, pink text, made her feel cared for. In Lucy’s eyes, she felt like she finally belonged somewhere, but something felt missing.
Carter.
It had been almost two hours and Lucy would be lying if she said she didn’t find herself imagining what Carter was doing every ten minutes. He said he’d come — he practically promised! But she was beginning to realize she couldn’t rely on John Carter to be punctual.
Whatever. Lucy doesn’t care. It’s fine. She’s not upset. And she’s definitely not walking outside to sulk alone.
Contrary to the hours difference, it had warmed up significantly. A nice mix of orange, yellow, and pink began to set in the sky. Due to the rain during their shifts, It was still slightly humid out. The air was thick, the smell of rain entered her nose.
“Do you really like him?”
“Oh, god!” Carter.
John was leaned up against the wall in the alleyway, a lit cigarette between his pointer and index finger. He looked oddly relaxed as the smoke bellowed out his mouth.
“You smoke?”
“Occasionally,” Carter took another slow, long drag of the cigarette, before dropping it on the ground and snuffing it out under his shoes. “Answer the question.”
Lucy took a moment. She turned, facing the window, observing her ‘boyfriend.’ He had come late, been there for about thirty minutes and had already downed too many beers for her liking. She didn’t want him here. Matter of fact, she was embarrassed by him. Dale worked at County General, sure, but he was around her friends, her coworkers, the people she cared for. Lucy knew she didn’t have to be with him. After all, she was self-sufficient without a ‘boyfriend,’ even Dale could be considered that.
She had made the unforeseen mistake of letting Dale fuck her. Was fucking even the appropriate verb? He was disgusting, not even in a good way, lazy, and most frustrating of all, not caring. Thinking about how she felt when he avoided her for days after was enough to make her want to disappear. Besides that he was arrogant, partly incompetent, and annoyingly competitive.
Part of Lucy did know the history between Dale and Carter. A part of her got with Dale for that exact same reason. Well, initially she didn’t plan to let it go so far, or at least far in Dale’s perspective. In all honesty, it was to make Carter jealous. Lucy just wanted Carter to pull her away from Dale and then kiss her passionately at triage, in front of everyone. Or.. something like that.
She cleared her throat before speaking again. “I don’t think so, no. Wait— No. I don’t like him. Truthfully, I don’t know why he’s here.” Divert the conversation, Lucy, or he’ll read you like a book.
“Can I have one?” The question came off too soft, too submissive, like someone who’d hadn’t smoked in years, which is exactly what Lucy was. Maybe the few margaritas she’d been nursing, and eventually finishing, all evening finally kicked in. Lucy considered herself too old to smoke to impress a boy, but at least she’d be reliving her teen years, right?
Carter’s eyes widened at the inquiry, clear confusion evident on his face. “Uh,” he fishes in the pocket of his slats for his pack of Marlboros. “Here,” he positioned the cigarette between her lips. After flashing a quick smile her way, he pulled a lighter out, and lit it for Lucy.
Her head was reeling and it wasn’t from the measly amount of smoke she inhaled. Did he have to be so close? God. If Lucy didn’t know before, she definitely knew now.
“That’s,” she hacked up, “horrible,” their hands slightly brushed as she handed him back his cigarette. “Add that to the list of reasons as to why I don’t smoke anymore.”
“You used to smoke? Lucy Knight used to smoke?” Their eyes met, his usually dark solemn eyes seemed bright for once. It felt like the antithesis of this whole.. personality he had put on. He tended to be emotionally withdrawn, never letting anyone in, but, slowly, Lucy was working her way in.
“Don’t act so surprised. I was a teenager once, you know?” Lucy couldn’t control the corner of her lips turning up, forming into a big, beaming smile.
They stayed like that for a few minutes. A comfortable silence settled over the both of them. It was nice, nicer than whatever the party had turned out to be. Carter was the first to break eye contact, allowing his eyes to travel down to his shoes. She knew he would. He always did. Eye contact wasn’t his strong suit. Although Carter always was the first to look away, Lucy was always the one to break the silence.
“Why didn’t you go in?” The question was eating at Lucy. God knows how long he’d been standing here, waiting. It lingered on her mind. What was he thinking? Did he want to come? Did he feel obligated? Maybe, somehow, Lucy was imagining everything in her head. Maybe the longing glances were unintentional, maybe their touches lingered accidently, and maybe he didn’t feel like he was going to pass out by how close he was to her lips. And maybe the first time he kissed her back, It didn’t mean anything.
“I was, uh, nervous, I guess,” he just shrugged before letting out a deep sigh. “I saw Dale. Didn’t want to, uh, disturb anything between the two of you.” Lucy knew he was lying. He wanted to do everything in his power to disturb them. He was just too scared to do it, too scared of the possible repercussions. Lucy vividly recalled how he acted upon Dale getting too close to her. He was possessive, jealous even, over something that wasn’t ever his. But she could be.
“We aren’t anything anymore,” the words were blunt, effective, and enough to get the point across. “Not after tonight anyways,” Lucy’s eyes still remained on Carter, following how he consistently would look around, doing anything to try not to look at her. “You’ve got a chance.”
In her head, it sounded more like a joke, perhaps something that would make him lightly chuckle and end up brushing it off, but actually telling that to Carter out loud made it sound more like a promise. Her stomach was already in one big ‘JC’ knot anyways. When Carter met Lucy’s gaze for a second time, his lips were parted and his eyes seemed more.. ablaze, a spark of desire apparent in his dark-brown irises.
“Do I?” Lucy couldn’t help but eagerly nod in response. She felt frozen in time, watching as his eyes flickered up and down her lips. Arousal stirred inside of her as she watched, in real time, how he struggled to hold back on his impulses. Had he always felt like this around her?
Carter didn’t seem mad, upset, or even uncomfortable. He wasn’t deflecting, or diverting the topic. He wasn’t avoiding her gaze. He wanted this as much as she did. John Carter wanted Lucy Knight, in more ways than one. He wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to finally, once and for all, mark Lucy as his.
Instead of being beside one another, Carter made his way over in front of Lucy. He examined her, watching as she began to bat her eyelashes the second he leaned closer. This time, he couldn’t stop himself. Carter cupped her jaw, pulling her close against him, and allowed himself to press his lips against hers.
He tasted like something she’d regret, something that’d break her heart, but that was the least of her concerns now. Every single long-lasting thought she had disappeared as they melted into each other, his free hand slithering around her waist. He was a tender lover, almost like a bruise. It was the second time they kissed, but this felt more promising than the last. No longer did Lucy care about Dale or what he would think or even if he would care, she just wanted to feel his lips on hers for an eternity.
That was one way to celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday.