T h i r s t

t h r e e

Come Saturday morning and I found myself in the same spot, barely moving ahead.

After my . . . let's call it a confrontation, I think he's started to let up. Slightly. I think.

And why do I think that?

No more hemorrhoids. Or maggots. Or 30 hour shifts. Or rotations in the ER.

I actually missed the ER rotations.

Because I miss Dr. Perez. Not because of that random guy I saw three days ago.

I never saw Mitchell after that either.

That was curious. I usually saw him at least once everyday . . .

"Come on." I clenched my teeth at the computer as it updated the sign out sheet, wanting to get out of there. Before someone realised I had nothing to do except an EMR.

"Ok great." I tapped the screen in appreciation and practically ran out of there.

I put my head down and avoided any sort of eye contact, ducking into the locker room like some sort of criminal. Why did I want to run home so bad?

Maybe that was it. I wanted to run.

I grinned at my new sneakers as I put them on, aptly matching my clothes for running, a sport bra and tracks.

I don't know if it made sense. I was on my feet all day and I ran home? I don't know. I liked the adrenaline, the high. I liked how it was the only peaceful time I had for myself. TV didn't count. Chores didn't. I ran because I wanted to. Not because I had to.

I pulled on a sweatshirt and grabbed my bag, heading for the back exit. Only, a truck blocked my way. There were about a dozen people all similarly dressed and loading in large cardboard boxes. Probably supplies for the new wing.

I tried to see if I could squeeze through but gave up and headed for the ER instead. I subconsciously hoped to run into Dr. Perez, for the sole reason that she was literally the only person I liked here, but of course that didn't happen. I did run into someone else instead.

I stopped abruptly and was just about to go back the other way and figure out how to climb a 7 foot truck, when she spotted me. And smirked.

"Hey, Dr. Myers." She drawled, smiling like she knew all my secrets. Oh, she probably did.

"Nurse Adams!" I shot finger guns at her for some reason. "How are uh . . . things. With you. In your life."

She simply stared at me with her arms crossed.

"So your mans came in here again asking for you."

"My man? I don't have a man." I chuckled, knowing exactly where this was going. Oh God, please don't let anyone be listening in.

"Yeah, the detective you were flirting with three days ago."

Goddamnit! Why was she so crass?

"I wasn't flirting--he's my patient. I'd never do that." I shook my head a tad too violently, giving myself as headache. Why was I so weird around her?

"Well, you better tell him that. Save him a trip everyday."

"He comes in everyday?" Why did it just feel like a flower bloomed inside me? Ugh, that can't be right. I should get that checked out.

"Mm hm. And I don't think he'll stop until you say yes."

"Say yes to what?" What was I missing? Had he already asked me something?

"To a date." I think she rolled her eyes. "I thought you doctors were supposed to be smart."

"But he never asked me out."