Fated Love (33 page)

Quinn hesitated. "She'll worry."

Linda's eyebrow lifted. "And that would be bad...why?"

"I want to make her happy. I want to put the light back in her eyes." Quinn's expression darkened. "Worrying about my cardiac condition is not going to do that."

As Quinn spoke, Linda lifted a stethoscope from around her neck and placed the auscultation diaphragm on Quinn's chest. "Quiet for a second." After listening for half a minute, she swung her stethoscope back into its usual position and fixed Quinn with an appraising glance. "If she finds out that you have a problem and that you kept it from her, she'll be hurt. That would make me very angry." She held up a hand when Quinn started to protest. "Worse, she'll feel betrayed because she cares for you, and you didn't trust her. That's something
you'll
regret for the rest of your life. Don't be an asshole."

Quinn opened her mouth, then clamped it shut. "I'm a little out of my mind over her. Sometimes, I don't think too clearly, especially when I'm afraid I could blow it. Thanks." She took a long breath, let it out. "I'll tell her."

"Good." Briskly, Linda set about applying the extremity and chest leads with practiced efficiency. Then she turned on the power and watched the trace as the paper scrolled out of the electrocardiogram machine. "Honor looks happy these days. I'd like to see her keep looking that way."

"So would I," Quinn said as Linda pushed the off button.

Linda met Quinn's eyes, and the expression in hers was tender. "Honor is a very brave and very stubborn woman. She won't let you go just because you have a problem. Is that what you're afraid of?"

"She's already lost the woman she loved." Quinn held Linda's gaze. "I wouldn't blame her for not wanting to risk something like that happening again."

"Honor lost
one
woman she loved. This isn't about Terry. It's about you." Linda gave Quinn an affectionate shake of her head. "Honor's with
you
now, Quinn."

"She hasn't said that," Quinn murmured.

"Does she really have to?"

Quinn thought of the myriad ways that Honor touched her every day, physically and emotionally, tenderly and exuberantly and demandingly. With a sigh not of frustration but of peace this time, she said softly, "No. She doesn't."

"Amazing," Linda commented as she removed the leads and handed Quinn her shirt. "A surgeon who is actually capable of listening to reason. We
have
to keep you."

* * * * *

Honor leaned in the doorway of her office while Quinn used the phone to call her cardiologist. She held Quinn's EKG tracing, the one they'd just transmitted to New York, in her hand. It looked normal this time, just as it had the previous ten times she'd studied it.

The minute Quinn hung up, Honor asked, "What did he say?" She kept her voice steady, but her stomach was clenched into a painful knot.

"He doesn't see any problem."

"What about the defibrillator discharges?" She'd been upset when Quinn had told her about the most recent episodes, partly because Quinn had not told her right away, but primarily because it frightened her to realize that Quinn's cardiac condition was still not well stabilized.

"The same thing as he always does." Quinn shrugged. "Could be the threshold setting on the defibrillator is still too low. Could be that I'm having short runs of tachycardia that I'm not aware of."

"You need to go up there to be examined, or you need to get a cardiologist down here." Honor's tone was harsher than she'd intended, but she couldn't seem to maintain her usual professional equanimity.

"I have an appointment with him in three weeks."

Honor's jaw tensed. "Three weeks is a long—"

"He said he thought that would be fine."

"Oh, what the hell does he know? He can't even get your goddamned medication straightened out!"

Quinn heard the sharp edge of fear beneath the anger. Quickly, she crossed the room, took Honor's hand and drew her inside the office, and then closed the door. She gently clasped Honor's waist beneath the white lab coat she wore in the ER. "I'm not having any symptoms. I feel great. And in case you haven't noticed, my heart's been
stressed
quite a bit lately, and it's held up just fine."

Honor rested her palm over Quinn's heart. Her voice was thick when she answered. "I've noticed. I love the way your heart pounds when I make love to you." She raised her eyes to Quinn's. "I don't want to be afraid when I feel that. I don't want..." She looked away, swallowed hard. "I don't want to lose you."

"You
won't."
Quinn pressed her lips to Honor's forehead. "People live normal lives with this condition. I will, too."

"I know." Honor took a deep breath, consciously stilling the dread that threatened to rise from the shadows of her darkest nightmares and choke her. She drew her fingers down Quinn's face, then kissed her lightly on the mouth. "I know."

"I'm sorry, I'd better get back to work," Quinn said with regret. "I'm waiting on labs for a patient."

"You go ahead. I'll be right out."

"You okay?" Quinn's blue eyes were dark with concern.

Honor forced a smile and nodded. "Fine. I just have to return a couple of calls."

"I'll see you later, then."

"Yes."

When Honor was alone, she leaned back against her office door and closed her eyes. She knew without doubt that she couldn't survive the loss of another lover. Given the choice, she might choose not to care for Quinn. The problem was, she wasn't certain any longer that she still had a choice.

Oh, Quinn. Baby. Do you know what you mean to me?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

L ate Friday afternoon, Quinn drew Honor aside in the hallway outside exam room seven, where Honor had just finished ordering a battery of tests and x-rays on a forty-year-old construction worker who had arrived at his job site and discovered that he couldn't remember his name.

"I think we might have a problem," Quinn said in a voice low enough that it wouldn't carry to the surrounding cubicles.

"What is it?"

"I have a twenty-five-year-old graduate student who presented with a two-day history of abdominal pain, nausea, and low-grade fever."

Honor gave Quinn a questioning look, because the symptoms were fairly common and could be almost anything. They probably saw ten cases of nonspecific belly pain every day. "Something unusual about it?"

Quinn nodded. "Her liver is huge and exquisitely tender on exam, so I ran a liver profile. Her enzymes and bilirubin are all elevated. She's got hepatitis."

"Damn."

"That's not all," Quinn said with concern. "If you remember, I saw a guy three days ago with acute hepatitis A. I asked the student where she'd been out to dinner in the last month or so, and then I called the first patient to see if they had some place in common."

"And they do?"

"Yep. The Mexican place over in East Falls." Quinn sighed. "It could be a coincidence; it's a popular restaurant. But I think we need to report this to the public health department and probably the CDC."

"I agree," Honor replied, thinking about the administrative nightmare to come and concluding that she might as well handle it all from the beginning. "I'll do it now. It
might
be absolutely nothing, but if we've got an epidemic in the making, we need to get the appropriate authorities on board as soon as possible."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too."

Honor glanced at her watch. "Oh,
hell
This is going to tie me up for God knows how long, and Phyllis has a date tonight. She was going to make dinner for Arly and then leave as soon as I got home." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, thinking fast. "I'll call Robin and Linda. They can watch Arly—"

"I'll be off shift soon. I'll do it."

Honor smiled. "Quinn, you don't need to baby-sit. I appreciate it—"

"I want to." Quinn's tone was even and firm, but her smile soft. "Please."

"If you're sure," Honor said, still uncertain. Even though Arly loved to spend time with Quinn, it seemed like such an imposition. She and Quinn were dating, that was true. But this—this simple act of shared responsibility spoke of something far more intimate.
Dating. This is nice, what we have now. It doesn 't have to he more. But it already is, isn 't it?

Quinn watched the internal struggle that Honor thought she couldn't see. It seemed that each time something drew them closer, causing their lives to become more inextricably entwined, Honor resisted. Even though Quinn understood Honor's hesitation, each time she witnessed it, each time she felt Honor put distance between them, her frustration grew. "Honor, for God's sake, when are you going to let me in?"

"Don't you think I
have"
Honor's words were out before she had time to censor them. She glanced over her shoulder, checking to see that they were still alone. In a low voice, she continued, "Do you know what it took for me to be with you? To touch you? To care about you?"

"Yes,
I know." Quinn wanted to take her hand, but she couldn't, not only because of where they were, but because it wasn't comfort Honor needed. And it wasn't what Quinn needed to give. They both needed the truth. "I love you. Don't
you
know that by now?"

Honor's mouth opened, and she blinked wordlessly. Then she slowly smiled. "You certainly can pick your moments, Dr. Maguire."

"That wasn't how I intended to say it the first time." Quinn grinned and shrugged. "You have a way of upsetting my timing."

"Really?" Honor's voice grew throaty. "I never noticed that. I've always found your timing...exquisite."

As it never failed to do, the suggestion in Honor's tone brought a rush of heat into the pit of Quinn's stomach. She drew a shaky breath and laughed quietly. "You're trying to change the subject."

"Not exactly." Honor drifted her fingers fleetingly over the top of Quinn's hand. "What you said...I felt it inside."
In my heart, in my body.
She met Quinn's eyes. "I don't know what to say. I don't think I can say anything right now."

Quinn nodded, just happy for the moment that Honor had not tried to object to Quinn's feelings. "That's okay. That's not why I said it."

"Why did you?"

"Because it's true," Quinn said softly. "And because it feels so good to say."

"I wish we were alone right now, anywhere but here." Honor's eyes shimmered with tenderness and desire.

"Me, too." Quinn's voice was rough edged with the effort it took not to touch her.

"It would be wonderful if you could take care of Arly tonight. Thank you." Honor sighed regretfully and stepped back a pace. "I need to get started with these reports. I'll call you at the house later when I know where I am."

"I'm going to get the student admitted, and then I'll head over to your place."

"Thank you." When Quinn started to turn away, Honor caught her arm. She smiled into Quinn's eyes. "It matters. What you said."

"Yeah. It does," Quinn murmured. "See you at the house."

* * * * *

"This is really very kind of you, Quinn," Phyllis said as she hastily gathered her things to leave.

"I don't mind," Quinn replied, leaning against the table in Honor's kitchen. "It'll be fun."

"I could stay and make dinner for the two of you—"

"No, you go ahead," Quinn insisted gently. "We'll be fine."

Arly rushed into the room, her face shining. She held out her hands. "I'm clean. Where are we going for dinner, Quinn?"

"Where would you like to go?"

"McDonald's."

Quinn gave Phyllis a questioning look. At Phyllis's nod of assent, Quinn replied, "Sure. There's one over on Chelten Avenue. We'll take a walk, okay?"

"And then you're going to stay here with me until my mom gets home, right?"

"Right. We'll stop and get a video and watch a movie."

"Are you going to stay overnight, like Grandmom does sometimes?"

"Uh..." Quinn wondered when she was going to remember that Arly was a contingency planner. She also revised her opinion of Arty's future career path. It was beginning to look more like she'd end up as the chair of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

"Maybe if Mom is late getting home," Phyllis suggested mildly, "Quinn will stay for a sleepover."

Arty's eyes lit up. "Cool. And we can all have breakfast together." She looked at her grandmother. "Right?"

"Right." Phyllis laughed and tousled Arly's hair. "Now I have to go. You and Quinn have fun tonight."

Quinn gave Phyllis a grateful look, not just for handling the issue of her spending the night so painlessly, but for welcoming her into the family "Thank you."

"No need for thanks," Phyllis said on her way out the door. "It's time."

I
hope so.
Quinn reached down for Arly's hand. "Come on, Arls, let's go find us some dinner."

* * * * *

Tired beyond words, Honor quietly let herself into her house through the back door. The kitchen was dark and the hallway beyond blue-gray with reflected light from the living room television. She deposited her briefcase on the table, made her way to the refrigerator, and quietly foraged for a beer. She found a lone can of Heineken on the bottom shelf, popped the tab, and took a grateful swallow. Then she headed toward the sound of an oddly familiar voice that, as she drew closer, began to resemble Ellen DeGeneres talking underwater.

When she reached the door to the living room, she realized that it
was
Ellen DeGeneres. Or, rather, the animated fish version of her in
Finding Nemo.
Quinn was slumped in the corner of the couch, her head resting against the back, eyes closed. Arly, in her dinosaur pajama bottoms and a mismatched top covered with soccer balls, was curled against Quinn's side, fast asleep. Honor couldn't decide which of them was the more beautiful.

She braced her back against the door frame, sipped her beer, and idly watched the movie. As the tension drained from her body, she felt nothing but a pleasant sense of well-being. She glanced back at Quinn and smiled when she found the deep blue eyes on her. She walked to the couch, leaned over the back, and kissed Quinn softly on the mouth. "Hi."