"Is everything all right?"
"Yeah," Melissa replied in a tone that suggested otherwise, poking at the toast on her plate. "I guess so."
"Mel," Jude countered, "I can tell that's bullshit. Spit it out."
"Well, it's just that-what happened with Aaron. It kind of shook me up."
"Of course," Jude said softly. "It was horrible. And terrifying."
"I mean," Melissa continued as if she hadn't heard Jude's reply, her gaze slightly unfocused, as if she were reliving the moment. "We've been in tight spots once or twice. Remember that time we thought the tanks were going to start shelling right where we had our cameras set up?"
"I remember."
"But it didn't feel personal then, you know? It almost didn't feel real. It was-like-uh oh, we're in the wrong place. Better run like hell now. It was exciting in a crazy kind of way."
"Maybe after the fact it was," Jude acknowledged with a grimace. "For a few seconds there I thought I was going to scream or throw up."
Melissa smiled wanly. "Yeah, me, too. But ten minutes later, when they just lumbered past and left us with nothing to film, we laughed."
"Nerves."
"Well," Melissa said softly, "I haven't laughed yet. Seeing someone I know almost die like that freaked me out."
"Do you need some time off? I can handle the camera…"
"No, it's just that-I might have screwed up."
Mel looked so miserable Jude couldn't imagine what she was talking about. "Mel," she said gently, "what happened?"
"After you went to the on call room to wait for word about Aaron…" If Melissa had been standing she would have been shuffling her feet, but as it was, she just rearranged her silverware repetitively.
"Yes?" Jude prompted, really starting to worry. "Mel, hey, come on. It's me."
In a rush, Melissa blurted, "I was on my way out of the hospital and I realized I was starving so I detoured by here to get a late lunch and I ran into Deb and we started talking and then we went out for a drink and then we went to her place and then we…ended up in bed."
Jude stared at her, her mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out.
"Oh man--I knew you'd be upset. I've never fooled around before when we were working," Melissa protested hurriedly. "Well, almost never. That one time with the soccer player--but that was after we'd already finished the shoot. Well, I mean we were almost done."
"I'm not upset."
"And that one time in Brussels, with the airline attendant, that didn't…" Melissa stared at her. "You're not?"
"No."
"But I know how uptig-how strongly you feel about separating work and personal-stuff."
"Am I?" Jude asked quietly, thinking about that for a minute as if it were a new concept. Actually it was more the case that for her there wasn't any difference. Work was personal-more than that, it was her passion--and she didn't want any extraneous diversions like relationships to interfere with it. She guessed she hadn't wanted anyone else's lives to either. "Well, sometimes things just-happen, don't they?"
"They do?" Melissa asked, a note of incredulity in her voice. "Right! They do, absolutely, they do."
Jude slowly and carefully spread cream cheese on her bagel, wondering if it had all been some kind of group psychosis-an emotional time warp, a bizarre twist in the fabric of reality-like a David Lynch movie. That would explain it. But then if that were the case, it should be over. And every time she thought about waking up beside Saxon Sinclair, her skin grew hot and her stomach did flips. It didn't seem to be over.
"Jude?" Melissa queried in a puzzled tone. "Is that it?"
"I'm really not hungry," Jude announced, pushing her bagel away. She glanced at her friend, who was regarding her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Sighing, she asked, "Are you okay with what happened?"
For the first time Melissa looked like herself. Shrugging, a rakish grin on her face, she said, "Well, yeah."
"Is Deb?"
"Seems to be."
"Are the two of you going to have any trouble working together?"
"Don't see why we should," Melissa replied seriously.
"Then I don't see a problem," Jude responded wearily as she stood to leave. "Just try to save the personal stuff for your own time, okay?"
"Right," Melissa said hurriedly, gathering the remains of her breakfast and standing, too. "It was just-you know-one night. Just one of those crazy things. It's not serious or anything."
"Yes, I know. Just one night. Nothing serious."
"So," Melissa said, following her to the tray disposal area. "Are you okay? With what happened?"
Jude looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"
"With Aaron," Melissa replied. Why do I feel like we're speaking two different languages?
"I'm fine. Come on, let's book a conference room. I want to schedule an on-tape interview with Deb as a follow up to the shooting." She really just needed to get back to work, back on track. Everything would make sense then, and if it didn't-it wouldn't matter. Because she wouldn't have to think about it.
"Good idea," Melissa agreed, delighted to be leaving the topic of her indiscretion behind. She'd leave her questions about what the hell was wrong with Jude for another time.
*****
Sax stopped when someone called her name, smiling when she turned to see Pam approaching. "Hi."
"Hi," Pam said warmly. "I just ran into the plastics resident and he says they're available this afternoon to harvest rib grafts for me. I'd like to take that boy in bed two to the OR if we can get him on the schedule. I've got office hours until noon, but after that I want to debride that clot from the frontal sinuses so that plastics can plug the holes with bone."
"He's running a fever, Pam," Sax said, propping one shoulder against the wall outside the double doors of the TICU. "And Kline says his blood pressure's been all over the place since last night. He's not in great shape for surgery."
Pam shrugged and replied with a hint of irritation in her voice. "No guts--no glory, Saxon. He's not going to get a lot better with us just standing around waving our hands in the air. If that intradural hematoma turns into an abscess, we won't have to worry about his blood pressure because he'll never wake up at all."
"Go ahead, put him on the schedule," Sax relented, rubbing her eyes briefly. She was tired and that was odd, because she was almost never aware of fatigue no matter how long she went without sleep. Of course, she'd never gotten to bed at all after dropping Jude off at her apartment. She hadn't been able to stop replaying the events of the night before, and remembering the way it felt to be with Jude, her whole system had kicked into hyperdrive. She'd been ready to climb the walls. Forcing herself to focus on Pam, she added, "I'll clear him if he's stable for the next few hours. If his pressure bottoms out, though, you'll have to wait."
"Thanks," Pam said, satisfied. Her attention shifted abruptly as she noticed the people coming down the hall toward them. "Your fan club has arrived."
"What?" Sax asked, recognizing that predatory glint in Pam's eye. Looking back over her shoulder, her eyes met Jude's, who was just a few feet away with Mel beside her. Sax smiled, suddenly feeling energized. "Good morning."
"Hi," Jude said softly, slowing as she drew near. She was pleased that she managed not to blush, because Sax's gaze was unexpectedly intense. "Is Deb…"
"Inside," Sax said, gesturing toward the unit with a nod.
"Thanks."
"Sure."
Sax followed the two women with her eyes as they walked past and disappeared inside.
"So, how's it going with her?"
"What?" Sax asked sharply.
"Whoa! Just asking," Pam exclaimed, studying Sax through narrowed eyes. "They're filming downstairs, right? Must be a royal pain in the balls having them under foot all the time. Although," she added with a suggestive laugh, "the scenery is nice."
Sax tried to hide her annoyance, although she wasn't sure what bothered her more--Pam's curiosity or the way the neur
osurgeon had surveyed Jude as she walked by. Pam had a way of looking at women like they were an exotic food group. "It's not that big a problem. Jude's been accommodating about working with a small crew and she doesn't interfere with Deb's training."
"Jude. That's that very attractive redhead, right?" Pam asked.
"Yes."
"Nice. Is she gay?"
"Jesus, Pam," Sax said angrily. "Don't you ever quit?"
"Why, Saxon, your temper is showing," Pam chided with a laugh. "And every one says how cool and unflappable you are, too. I'll take that as a yes."
"Why don't you ask her ?" Sax retorted.
"I might," Pam responded thoughtfully, "since I can't seem to tempt you."
"I've got to get back to work," Sax said, ignoring the comment.
"If I don't hear from you, I'll assume that case is on," Pam said, all business again.
"Fine."
Pam Arnold watched Sax push through the double doors with an impatient shove, and wondered exactly what she'd said to make her so angry. Whatever was going on, it had something to do with that enchanting redhead. Perhaps the lovely filmmaker would be interested in dinner. She glanced at her watch and sighed. Well, that intriguing possibility would have to wait until later in the day, but it certainly was a most pleasant thought.
Chapter twenty-three
"Let's do this somewhere less formal," Mel suggested, surveying the conference room with distaste. "This place looks too much like a boardroom."
"You're right. Too impersonal," Jude agreed, glancing at Deb. "Got any ideas?"
"How about the roof?"
"Yes," Jude said with a nod. The roof - Sax's favorite sanctuary . It was difficult preventing images of Sax-sweat drenched and exuberant with a basketball in her hands, pensive and still in the moonlight-from distracting her from her schedule, but she managed to chase the memories away with an impatient mental shrug. "We can get the skyline and the heliport in the background. Good idea, guys."
Mel hefted her camera and the three of them trooped out.
Interview - Dr. Deborah Stein
August 6 - 2p.m.
"What were you thinking when those boys came into the trauma admitting area with their guns out?" Jude asked. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mel give her the thumbs up sign. Good. Sound and visuals are okay.
"I didn't think anything at first," Deb admitted. "You learn not to pay attention to peripheral activity when you're operating or in the midst of a crisis. People walk in and out of the operating room, the radio might be playing, the anesthesiologist is talking to a student a few inches away-it doesn't matter-while the pressure's on you don't hear them or even see them."
With her back to the cement wall at the roof's edge and her blond hair blowing around in the wind, Deb, Jude thought, still looked like the young athlete the country fell in love with during the Olympics. But there were lines at the corners of her eyes now and something harder in her gaze that had been missing before. She's getting battle scars. "How do you filter those things out?"
Deb shrugged. "You forget everything except the moment. No mortgage worries, no car problems, no relationship issues. Just you and the case." She grinned, and this time her eyes smiled, too. "That's where I was last night-in the zone. I was concentrating on the patient and nothing else registered."
"So you didn't realize for a second what was happening?" Jude asked, remembering vividly the commotion at the door and the shouting and Aaron…
"Not until I heard the shot. That got my attention. I used to shoot pistols in competition when I was a teenager. I know what a gun sounds like."
"Even when it was so completely-out of context?"
Deb grimaced. "A hospital isn't a church-there's nothing sacred here-only life and death. I've taken care of plenty of felons apprehended during a crime. I've treated patients handcuffed to the bedrails with armed cops standing guard. As soon as I heard the shot, I knew we were in trouble."
"And your reaction? What made you put yourself between the gunman and the boy you were treating? What made you risk your life?" What made Sax risk hers?
"Totally automatic," Deb said quickly. "I didn't even think about it."
"Bu there must be something behind that response, that desire to shield your patient?"
"I wish I could say there was," Deb said, looking uncomfortable for the first time, "but I wasn't being heroic. It was just that-he was mine, you know? I was the first one to see him, he was my patient, it was my responsibility to see that he didn't die." Deb shook her head ruefully, her gaze traveling away from Jude for the first time to fix on some point in the distance. "Believe me, if I'd had time to think, I don't know what I would have done."
"It was still a very courageous thing to do, Deb," Jude said gently, appreciating that talking about surgery was a lot easier for Deb, apparently, than exploring those highly emotional few moments.
"Maybe. But I can't take too much credit for it. I told you-I wasn't even thinking."
"But it's what we do when we don't have time to rationalize, or even to reason, that really tells the truth about us, don't you think?" Jude asked.
"Yeah, I do think that," Deb replied softly. "Now what Sinclair did- that was brave. She knew that guy had just shot Aaron; she knew he wanted to shoot my patient; and she knew he was probably going to shoot somebody else, but that didn't stop her from stepping in front of you."
"No" Jude said softly, "it didn't."
"I can tell you this," Deb said emphatically, "Sinclair knew exactly what she was doing. She always does. That's brave."
And you've got a bit of a case of hero worship , Jude thought fondly, but she couldn't help wondering if Sax really had acted intentionally, and not out of some basic instinct. And if she did? What would that mean?
"You both deserve a lot of credit," was all Jude said as she raised a hand to Melissa to signal her that the interview was a wrap.
"Cripes," Deb said, shaking her shoulders as if to loosen them. "That's nerve wracking. It's a good thing it was you behind the camera, Cooper."
"Oh yeah?" Melissa asked playfully. "And why's that?"
"I trusted you to make me look good on the tape."
"Well, it was a challenge, but I managed," Melissa jibed, thinking that the one thing Deb Stein did not need was to look any better. She turned the heads of too many women to count as it was, and when the documentary started airing, she'd be inundated with calls for dates. Melissa considered that revelation for a second and decided it was a good thing she didn't have any long-term plans with this one. Yep, good thing all right.
*****
Personal Project Log - Castle
August 7 - 12:20 a.m.
Apparently, this is one of those aberrations that occur often enough that neither Deb nor Sax seems surprised by it. Specifically, nothing much has happened all night. Well, nothing compared to the way things have been all the other nights on call. Around eight last evening two people were transported by chopper following a fender bender, but both of them were evaluated, screened with x-rays, and admitted overnight for observation only. No surgery. Then again, at a little after eleven a young man was brought in with a broken jaw from a bar brawl. No other injuries. Plastic surgery was contacted and they scheduled him to have his jaws wired together in the morning. And that was it. Deb went off a few minutes ago to get some sleep, and I'm going to follow her example. Still, I have this uncomfortable feeling that I'm going to miss something. Deb said that she would much rather be working if she needed to be on call. It was better, she said, to be up all night in the operating room rather than trying to sleep while expecting that at any moment she might have to get up again. Work rather than sleep. It's astonishing how your entire life gets turned around in this place.
Jude clicked off her recorder and thought about what she had just said. Oh yes--life certainly does get turned around in this place . Sighing, she let herself into her on call room.
*****
August 7 - 3:13a.m.
&n
bsp; It was the middle of the night and she couldn't sleep. Melissa was breathing softly in the darkness across the room, clearly sleeping the sleep of the innocent at heart. Or certainly, the untroubled of mind. Jude had been trying to occupy herself with plans for the project-writing script in her head and editing sections of tape she had reviewed the day before-anything that might tire her mind and help her to relax. Her usual tricks didn't help. After forty fruitless minutes, she thought she would start cursing aloud. That was when she decided to go in search of company. One thing she had learned is that in the hospital, there was always someone up and about. The nurses on night shift were bright and energetic, because for them this was their normal workday. There were usually one or two surgery residents camped out in the OR lounge, either waiting for cases to start or unwinding after one had finished. If it'd been a week before, Aaron would have been in the trauma admitting area, reviewing billing forms or checking an order status or simply waiting for the inevitable moment when the phone would ring or the radio would chirp to announce incoming patients. But of course, Aaron wasn't there now.
Even though she knew he wasn't there, she automatically glanced into the trauma bay as she walked down the hall toward the elevators. The bright overhead lights were off, but a row of fluorescents under the cabinets on the wall above the long counter where the doctors and nurses did their paperwork was illumination enough for her to see the figure bent over the chessboard.
From the door, Jude asked quietly, "Planning the next campaign?"
Sax turned at the sound of Jude's voice, raising one eyebrow as she answered, "You can never have too much in the way of strategy, don't you agree?"
"Honestly?" Jude said with a tired shrug. "I don't know. I never seemed to have any-where chess was concerned." Or anything else, now that I think of it-except work.
"No, I imagine that you didn't need one."
Perhaps it was the hour, or the unnatural sense of limbo a night without trauma alerts produced, but Sax couldn't seem to call upon her normal sense of distance as she took in the dark shadows beneath Jude's eyes and the weary slump of her shoulders. Gently, she observed, "You look exhausted. Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"
Radclyffe - Passion's Bright Fury Page 16