"Is she sick?" Linda felt a little sick herself. She liked Quinn. She liked her a lot. And she knew that Honor liked her, too.
"I don't know yet." Finally, Honor managed to drag her eyes away from the x-ray that mocked her, reminding her that despite all her training—all her skill—she couldn't make a difference when it truly mattered. Not with Terry. Not with Quinn. She turned, edging her hip onto the counter that ran below the view boxes, and pushed a hand through her hair. For the first time, she realized she was exhausted. "I haven't had a chance to complete my evaluation. Other than her shoulder, she seems to be all right."
"So this isn't so bad, right?" Linda indicated the x-ray with a tip of her chin.
"I suppose that's a matter of definition." Honor gave a short, mirthless laugh. "She has a potentially lethal condition which is poorly controlled at the moment, and she's twenty-eight fucking years old. God." She closed her eyes, and all she could see was Quinn. Those brilliant eyes, that mesmerizing grin, those incredible hands. In a whisper, she asked of no one, expecting no answer, "Why is life so unfair?"
Linda heard the anguish in Honor's voice, appreciating that it wasn't just about Quinn. Honor had lost her lover, and whether she knew it or not, wanted it or not, she already cared about Quinn. And right now, Honor was struggling with past pain and present fear all at once, a fight that was too much for anyone. Linda slid her arm around Honor's waist, giving her a little shake even as she hugged her comfortingly. "Honey, you know better than to ask that. Thinking that way around here will make you crazy."
Honor leaned her cheek against Linda's shoulder and laughed shakily, "Yeah, I know, I'm just tired, I guess."
"Understandable. It's been a hell of an afternoon." She kissed Honor's forehead fleetingly. "So, where's Quinn right now?"
"In three. I wanted to admit her, but she's refusing. God, she's stubborn."
Linda grinned, happy to hear the irritation creep into Honor's voice. Better. "Gee whiz, a surgeon who's stubborn? How about that. I even know some ER chiefs who are just a little bit obstinate."
Honor glared at Linda, but just having her there was helping. She wasn't entirely certain what it was about Quinn's underlying condition that had thrown her so badly. She didn't seem to be able to sort things out clearly; all she felt was a sense of panic that was clouding her judgment. And that was totally unlike her. "Do you have something constructive to add to this situation, or do you just intend to heckle me for the rest of the day?"
Much better. "Why do you want to admit her?"
"Because she hasn't had proper monitoring for weeks, and she told me that the defibrillator has discharged as recently as two days ago!" Honor's voice rose as the fear threatened to re-emerge. "Do you want her to drop dead?"
"Of course not," Linda said softly, not taking offense at Honor's tone. She knew her friend well enough to know that this wasn't Honor. At least not Honor when she wasn't terrified. "You're getting a rhythm trace, right?"
"Yes, it should be done by now."
"Okay. Do you want her to have a sling for the shoulder?"
Honor rubbed her forehead, considering priorities. Her brain still felt sluggish, but the tightness in her chest was easing now that she had something to focus on besides the shock of seeing that scar on Quinn's chest and what lay underneath. "For a day or two. She shouldn't be immobilized any longer than that, because adhesions will develop around the shoulder joint. Motion is actually good for it."
"Right. I'll get her fixed up with the shoulder immobilizer while you review the EKG. If that looks okay, what do you say about her spending the night with Robin and me?"
"At your place?"
"Why not?" Linda shrugged. "If her heart's okay, she really doesn't need to be admitted, right?"
"Not for the shoulder injury, no."
"But she lives by herself, and neither of us would feel very comfortable letting her go home alone. We've got room."
"All right." Honor smiled fondly. "I'm sorry I jumped on you. I don't know what's wrong with me."
Linda squeezed her hand. I know you don t So let's get Quinn squared away. That way, when you figure out what's scaring you, you just might be able to handle it.
* * * * *
Quinn had managed to get her shirt back on and was sitting on the side of the exam table when the curtain parted and Linda and Honor stepped into the small room. She smiled at Linda, but her eyes were on Honor, who was holding her chart and looking at some point over Quinn's head.
"Hi, Quinn," Linda said affectionately. "How's the shoulder?"
"What shoulder?"
Linda laughed. "Uh-huh. Aren't we just all tough."
"Yeah, that's me." Honor, why are you angry? Why won't you look at me?
Linda tilted her head, studying Quinn's face. She looks more worried than sick. She surely doesn 't look in danger of dying. If I hadn't seen that x-ray with my own eyes...no wonder Honor is having a hard time. lean't believe it either. "I'm going to get you a shoulder immobilizer, tough guy. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Alone with Honor, Quinn tried desperately to gauge what the other woman was feeling. She didn't care about her rhythm trace or her chest x-ray or her shoulder; she cared about the distance in Honor's eyes. She sensed disappointment and anger, and beneath that, something she wasn't quite sure she understood. It seemed like fear. "Honor? Everything okay?"
Honor gave a small shake of her head. "I'm not sure where to start with that one." She blew out a breath and stepped over next to Quinn, resting her left hand on the dark red vinyl a few inches from Quinn's hip. She might have touched her, except knowing what she needed to do, she couldn't. "Your chest x-ray is normal. You have an occasional extra beat on your rhythm strip, but nothing that looks problematic to me. Of course, your cardiologist needs to compare it to your previous traces."
"I'll make sure he gets that first thing on Monday," Quinn said quickly. Please don't look so upset. "I promise."
"Good." Honor hesitated, then straightened her shoulders. "I want you to take a few days off, Quinn."
Quinn's stomach plummeted. "I can work, Honor. This has happened before, and my shoulder will be stiff for a few days, but—"
"It's not about your shoulder," Honor interrupted quietly. "It's about your medical condition."
"What about it?" Quinn's throat was dry.
"Right now, I'm not certain you should be working in the emergency room." Honor drew a shaky breath. This was harder than she had imagined, because she knew she was going to hurt Quinn. But she had a responsibility as the ER chief to see that the patients as well as the department were protected. "No one informed me of your medical status. If they had, I'm not sure I would've hired you."
The panic hit Quinn hard and fast. She was going to lose everything—again. Only this time it was so much worse. It wasn't just about her job. This time it was about everything that mattered in her life.
"Honor, please. I want to work." Her hands were shaking, and she clenched them tightly against her thighs. The only thing that had gotten her through the last few months was Saxon Sinclair's promise that she'd be able to work—the promise to help Quinn find the kind of position that would let her be a little bit of who she was. "I need to work."
"And I need the patients and you to be safe. This isn't an ordinary ER, for God's sake. A few days ago, you were doing an open thoracotomy in the procedure room. What if you'd...arrested then?" Just saying the words made Honor nauseous.
"You were there," Quinn pointed out. "You could've done what I was doing."
"Maybe." Honor saw again the empty heart with the ragged tear, the quick sure movements of Quinn's hands, the skill that went beyond training to some inherent gift that only a few surgeons had. She wasn't certain she could've done what Quinn had done; she wasn't certain anyone could have. "Maybe."
"I've been medically cleared to work, Honor." Quinn struggled to keep her voice steady. "The hospital has approved my hiring."
"Without me being involved!" Hon
or's frustration broke through. "The hospital administrators don't know what we do down here, and you know it."
"Do you think I'd work if I thought I would compromise patient care?" Quinn's eyes searched Honor's. Do you really think so little of me? Do you distrust me that much?
"No." Honor's expression grew tender, and despite her resolve, she moved her hand to Quinn's shoulder and stroked her softly. "I don't think you would. But it's not about what I think, Quinn."
"What then?" Quinn's voice was a whisper of longing and hurt. She was so tired of fighting this battle and of losing, over and over. Unthinkingly, she leaned into the comfort of Honor's touch.
"I need to talk to my chief and the hospital attorneys, Quinn." It was all Honor could do not to thread her fingers into Quinn's thick dark hair and draw Quinn's head to her breast. Quinn's torment was palpable, and Honor's heart ached for what Quinn had suffered and for what she herself now added to that pain. "Medico-legally, if..something...happens to you down here that could even remotely be construed as adversely affecting patient care, it would be a nightmare."
"Do you think I don't know that?" Briefly, Quinn closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, despair swam close to the surface. "Why do you think I'm here and not at St. Michael's?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I can't get malpractice insurance to practice surgery." Quinn rubbed her face with her good hand and took a deep breath. "As a trauma surgeon, I'd be alone in the OR. At night, and sometimes even during the day, there wouldn't be another surgeon available to take over if I...became incapacitated."
"Surgeons aren't interchangeable," Honor said softly, beginning to understand. If Quinn collapsed during a critical part of a procedure, the nurses and anesthesiologists in attendance would not be able to stand in for her. And other readily available surgeons were unlikely to have the training to take her place.
"Right. If I've got the aorta cross-clamped and my heart decides to quit, by the time they find someone else who could do what needed to be done, the patient could be dead." Quinn sighed. "That's why the law requires two heart surgeons for every case, and two general surgeons for a lot of straightforward abdominal cases that are a lot less complicated than trauma surgery. No insurance company will touch me."
"But we always have at least three attendings present in the emergency room," Honor stated. "And that's why you could get coverage for this position."
Quinn nodded. "In the ER, I'd always have immediate backup."
"I'm still surprised the hospital hired you."
"So am I, to tell you the truth. I'm qualified-—"
Honor gave a short laugh, removing her hand from Quinn's shoulder because she wanted to put her'arm around her. "That is an understatement."
"Thanks." Smiling weakly, Quinn blew out her breath. "They must have figured it was financially advantageous, and some administrator was probably afraid I'd invoke the Americans with Disabilities Act if my medical condition was used as a reason not to hire me."
"You could, you know," Honor said quietly. "If I contest your hiring."
"God, Honor." Quinn frowned. "You can't believe I'd do that."
"No. No, I don't think you would." Honor sighed. "Quinn, I'm sorry. I still need to look into this whole situation."
"I won't fight you, Honor," Quinn said just as quietly. "This is your ER. I appreciate your concerns." Carefully, Quinn slid down off the table, gritting her teeth as the movement rekindled the pain in her shoulder. "I'll accept whatever you decide."
"Where are you going?" Honor asked sharply as Quinn started slowly toward the curtain and the hallway beyond.
"Home." Her voice was dull with fatigue and resignation.
"Just how do you plan to get there?"
"I'll call a cab." Quinn reached for the curtain. "Thanks for taking care of me."
"Damn it." Quickly, Honor moved to Quinn's side and grasped her right hand. "Wait just a minute, Maguire. Linda needs to get you into the shoulder immobilizer. Then I'll take you home."
"That's not necessary."
Gently, Honor turned Quinn to face her. Then, because she had to, had wanted to for hours, she lifted her hand and rested her palm tenderly against Quinn's cheek. "I want to. Please."
"Honor," Quinn whispered in a voice filled with longing and desire.
Silence closed around them as they leaned into one another, their eyes locked. Quinn's lids were heavy, her throat tight, as she watched Honor's lips slowly part. A breath away, then not even that. Oh God, yes.
The curtain slid back, and Linda gave a small cry of surprise to find them just on the other side, and just about to kiss. "Uh...hey, hi! I've got that immobilizer."
In a daze, Honor stepped back, her hand dropping to her side. Her heart pounded wildly. Oh my God. I was going to kiss her. This is crazy.
"Do you want me to get this on her?" Linda held up the soft padded sling and looked uncertainly from her friend to Quinn.
Honor appeared confused, almost bewildered, and the expression on Quinn's face was enough to make any woman melt.
Huskily, Honor said, "Yes. Go ahead." Carefully, she stepped around Quinn and into the hall. "I'll finish the paperwork, and we can get going."
Quinn stood cooperatively while Linda adjusted the straps on the immobilizer, not even noticing the discomfort as her shoulder was manipulated. Her gaze was fixed on Honor, who leaned against the counter at the nurses' station down the hall, writing in Quinn's chart. At that moment, Quinn wasn't thinking about her medical career, or her heart condition, or anything else in her life except the look in Honor's eyes when their lips had almost touched. There had been tenderness, and compassion, and beneath the caring, desire. She shuddered, remembering.
"You okay, sweetie?" Linda asked as she stepped back, satisfied that Quinn's shoulder was taken care of.
"No, I don't think so."
Linda followed Quinn's gaze, and she laughed softly. "Everything is going to be fine."
Quinn looked at her, uncertainty and disbelief on her face. "I don't see how." ,
"Just give it a little time." She slid her arm around Quinn's waist and gave her a quick hug. "Now I'm taking you home with me."
"I'm okay," Quinn assured her.
"Oh, I know that. But I'll feel much better if you spend the night with us."
"That's very kind of you, but—"
"If you don't stay with us. Honor is going to insist you be admitted for monitoring. Do you really want to go a round with her on that again?"
Quinn sighed wearily. "I'm not exactly at my fighting best right now. So thank you, I accept."
"All set?" Honor asked as she rejoined them. She studied Quinn intently. Pale, but she looks steady. I wish she were coming home with me, instead of going with Linda. That thought startled her so much that her next words came out more sharply than she intended. "We should go."
"Right," Quinn said as Honor turned and walked away.
Everything is going to be fine. Right.
Chapter Twelve
W here are you parked?" Linda asked, stopping by the side of her Volvo, which she had parked in the fire lane in the ER turnaround.
Honor stopped walking a few feet away with Quinn by her side. "Just up ahead in my usual spot."
Leaning against her open car door, Linda suggested, "Why don't you come in and have a drink when you drop Quinn off? I think the party is pretty much over, so we can just sit around and unwind."
"Thanks, but I think I'll just pick Arly up and call it a day," Honor said quietly. She was still reeling from the afternoon's events, to say nothing of the near-kiss moments before. I don't know what I'm doing anymore.
"Phyllis took Arly home when I was leaving to come over here."
"Then I'll go on home and give Phyllis a break."
"I can ride back with Linda, if you want," Quinn said in a voice too low for Linda to hear. "I've already taken up enough of your time, and I appreciate everything you've already done."
Even thou
gh the ER experience had been traumatic for Quinn, emotionally and physically, she knew that Honor's intervention had truly made it as painless as possible. She couldn't blame Honor for wanting to look into the legal ramifications of her medical situation, now that Honor was aware of it. And no matter what the eventual result of Honor's inquiries, she was far from angry at her.
"No, I want to drive you," Honor insisted. The afternoon had been an emotional roller coaster for her, first with the stress of handling Quinn's shoulder injury in the field, then the shock of discovering Quinn's much more serious underlying medical condition. Honor feared that if she just turned her back and walked away now, she'd drown in the feelings of helplessness, anxiety, and anger. She desperately wanted just a few moments alone in the car with Quinn when they wouldn't be struggling with professional differences or emergencies. She was stunned to realize that that was the only thing she could think about. "I'm only a few houses away from Linda's, so it's really no trouble. If that's okay?"
"It's more than okay." Quinn smiled, wanting nothing more in the world than to be with Honor—anywhere, for any reason. "I'd like very much to go with you. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Honor smiled softly at Quinn's impeccable manners even in moments of tension. "Your mama sure did a good job of raising you."
"She'd be pleased to hear that," Quinn said seriously. Then she grinned. "There were quite a few times when I was growing up that I'm pretty sure she had her doubts."
"Now why do I find that completely believable?" Laughing, suddenly feeling her spirits lift, Honor waved goodbye to Linda, led the way to her Subaru, and held the passenger-side door open for Quinn. Automatically, she slid her arm around Quinn's waist to steady her while she climbed in, and it was then that she felt a faint tingling in her arm. At the same time, Quinn shivered and gave a small gasp.
The sensation was so fleeting that Honor might have ignored it if she hadn't already been so sensitized to the situation. She recognized immediately that the slight buzz she'd experienced was Quinn's cardiac defibrillator firing. The focal electrical discharge from the internal defibrillator was not painful, but the current was large enough for someone in direct contact with Quinn to feel it.
Radclyffe - Fated Love Page 11