November 7, 2007

[amber_v]

The paperwork took a while. Between the four of them-- Kutner didn't do much-- they got through it faster, but there was so much to do that it still took hours. The conflicting treatments of interferon and steroids was tricky enough to justify-- though justify it Amber did, since she hadn't been wrong-- but there was Brennan's interference which couldn't be explained. Casey could sue the hospital, easy. Probably would, too; they'd risked her life when she'd only been dehydrated.

When going over the more mind-numbing parts of the papers, Amber worked through the past few days in her mind. She was crazy about Eric. That much she couldn't doubt. Seeing him again and again, even when it went against her better judgment; liking waking up next to him; bothering to stick around after their fights...

He'd stuck by her. Goodness knew why, but he kept coming back. The first night of this case, he'd come by with coffee. He'd then turned her down for sex, but he did say he had to work. A workaholic, that's who she was dating. She'd choose work over him any day, too. And this morning, chasing her after she'd run out of the department-- what an idiot. Amber smiled at the list of blood tests she was writing up.

By the time the to-do pile was reduced to nothing, lunch hour had long since passed. Amber collected the papers. "I'll pass these on to Eric," she said. Why not? Pretending to call him Foreman would only make them tease her harder. She didn't have anything to hide, by now.

"Have fun," Kutner half-jeered, half-saluted. Thirteen snorted, Cole raised an eyebrow, and... that was it. At least, in reactions to her. As she organized the papers into folders, Cole mentioned having to pick up his son, and Kutner offered to go with him. Thirteen, sneaky as ever, didn't volunteer any information, just saying by and leaving.

Amber walked the few steps over to the office. She raised the folders. "Look at what I've got for you," she said teasingly. "Bet you've been dying for these."

Comments

[amber_v]

Amber didn't appreciate being told that she was wrong to keep sending the message that he was wrong in all these ways she didn't really think she was, but telling him his impressions were wrong would only prove his point, so she bit back the defensiveness. Pushed it out and away. They were talking, that was all. It wasn't a fight and therefore no one had to win. She'd been letting him know what she wanted; now it was his turn. Putting it that way, it wasn't so hard to prevent herself from tensing up-- though another sip of wine helped with that too.

And so Amber listened, bending her arm to support her head against the palm of her hand. Her hair, loose, felt a bit brighter, caught in the reflection of the television's glow. For all that Eric was talking about how frustrated he was, he seemed so... good-natured about it. Like this was some amusing anecdote, funny and in the past tense. That made it easier to nod along. She didn't really agree with the part about who thought up what first, since it a question of feelings and not of originality, but they were just exchanging ideas. And he was right about her also wanting to relax with him.

Trust. It always came back to that. "Eric." Beneath that good humor of his was tiredness too. They'd meant to take a break, hadn't they? One hand holding her head, the other her wine glass, she couldn't touch him. She wanted to; having her thigh press against his wasn't enough. "When we left the hospital today, you said you were having a hard time trusting me. I want you to, and I want to trust you too." The wine glass was starting to get annoying and it was mostly empty anyway; Amber leaned over a moment to slide it onto the table. Looked back deep into his eyes. "I do trust you, I think." She took in a deep breath. "But I don't want to be pushed blind over a cliff either; let me feel this out, okay?" Amber did trust Eric to respect her wishes as far as sex went; he'd been reliable on that much. The problem was how close she was willing to let him get at any given moment, which changed depending on more factors than Amber could helpfully illustrate through flowcharts.

"I want to hold you too," she said and, lifting a suggestive eyebrow, "Speaking of which, we could be doing that now." If he wanted her to tell him explicitly what she wanted, there it was.

[eric_foreman]

Amber's expression flickered. For a second, Foreman was certain he saw the tightness around her lips, the crease of her forehead, that meant she was going to snap at him again, but it passed. Raising his eyebrows, Foreman waited for her to think through what he'd said. He couldn't deny that he still felt comfortable with her in a way he hadn't with a lot of women. Something about the fact that, as she'd said last week, she was new to this. Lots of Foreman's girlfriends had accused him of being distant, and he could usually acknowledge to himself when he was, even if he protested to them. With Amber, he didn't get the feeling that she was protesting for form's sake, but because she genuinely hadn't considered his points before. It made him more patient than he would've been otherwise, and more willing to lay himself on the line. There was a limit to what he could offer, but they hadn't reached it yet.

He inhaled deeply when Amber mentioned how he'd already told her tonight he couldn't trust her. She was right; he was asking for more than he'd been willing to give, then. It felt different. He couldn't trust her not to hurt him, and here, he knew that he'd never do that to her. Foreman's lips tightened. That was his defensiveness speaking. Maybe she really didn't know that he wouldn't go too far. That thought cut through him and squeezed his heart; not for him, but for her. She did trust him--just not that far. She trusted him, but not enough to let him take the initiative, and maybe they'd never get that far.

Wasn't this good enough? Foreman snorted softly. If it wasn't, he'd sure as hell staked a lot on how happy he could be even if it wasn't. He didn't doubt Amber's sincerity, but it made him uncomfortable and tense to know that he was getting closer to her than she was allowing herself to get to him. He wanted to pull back, step back, and get them on even footing. Stop risking anything. Hell, Amber was worried about the cliff, when he was already freefalling into the chasm.

She was waiting for an answer. Foreman held out his hand to her, and leaned back slightly, telegraphing his plan to her. If she took him up on his offer, he'd go back to where he had been. The couch was wide enough for them both to lie on their sides, facing the television, with Foreman's arm hooked over Amber's waist and her hair tickling his nose. No closer than how they'd slept together. Less, even, since they were both fully dressed. It'd be warm, comfortable, close. If only Amber would let them be. "It's not a cliff," he said. "It's just a hug."

[amber_v]

Of course Eric's expression trembled at her calling out the fact that they both had issues trusting each other. From the wince of his eyes to the way his buccinator muscle clenched, Amber couldn't tell if didn't believe that she did trust him or if his pride was hurt to have the accusation reflected back at him. Not that it was meant to be an accusation, just a statement of facts. Why pretend something if it’d bring them no greater good? "We just need time, to get to know each other better." They were doing better already, weren't they? Just this morning they'd have torn each other's throats out, and now they were quibbling over how much bodily contact was too much or not enough. "I'm not saying I won't ever trust you." They could learn.

Starting now, it seemed. Amber half-snorted, half laughed when Eric fell towards the couch once she offered to go back to hugging, looking not unlike a puppy with a ball, a wagging tail, and a hopeful expression. He was determined, she had to give him that much. This time she was more than fine with following his lead, unfolding her legs and settling down next to him. "See?" she said. "Slow doesn't mean 'never.'" It was pretty cozy, Amber had to admit. Her back to him, it was like they were about to fall asleep, feeling and hearing every breath he took. Though being the same height implied certain logistical difficulties. "Can you see the TV?" And there’d be no more wine like this.

[eric_foreman]

Foreman nodded slightly. It would take time. They'd only really known each other for a few weeks. He didn't expect that to mean that they couldn't trust each other as far as lying together on the couch went, but apparently that's what it meant to Amber. So, he was learning about her, and what she wanted. And at least now he was able to bring it up with her when he found her being high-handed with him.

Better than explanations that she might trust him better, someday, was the fact that she let him guide him to lie in front of him. Foreman tucked his knees in behind hers, their bodies lined up nearly perfectly, and his arm, as he'd suspecting, fitting just over the curve of her waist. "It's fine," he said. He didn't really care if he could see the television. The hockey game was gradually coming to a finish, and Foreman was more interested in feeling Amber relax against him. Her hair tickled his nose a bit, but he could tip his head up and avoid the wisps easily. He could smell her conditioner, or her perfume--it was familiar, and elusive enough that he had to breathe in deeply to catch the fullness of it.

Letting his eyes close, Foreman curled up as close behind Amber as he could, with the back of the couch supporting him. Breathing slowly and steadily, he let the tension seep out of his muscles. Amber better not mind if he fell asleep, because that was all he could think about now, his mind fuzzing out. The wine had only reminded him of just how tired he was. Before long, Foreman was dozing.

[amber_v]

Amber wriggled a moment, finding the perfect fit against Eric; slid her hand down so that her arm was over his. She liked the way he held her at her waist, sweet like he wanted to draw her nearer. On the screen you could tell that the Flyers had given up, woefully behind in points and with no time to make it up. Losers.

Speaking of no time, it took none at all for Eric to start snoring lightly behind her. Amber could barely believe it; all this fuss so that he could fall asleep within minutes! Apparently more than her he'd wanted a flat surface. He had to be kidding! Amber almost laughed, but held it back, since it might wake him up. It was nice like this. Intimate. Kind of what she'd been hoping for, this evening. When he woke up, she'd offer to switch over to the bed, since they were both too old to spend the night on the couch. For now, Amber watched the end of the game, her boyfriend tucked into her. She felt warm and sated in a way she’d never known before.