WARNING! RATED NC-17 for scenes of non-consenting sex. Please don’t read if this might offend you.

TITLE: Ribbon of Glass

AUTHOR: Pebbles

FEEDBACK PLEASE! pebbles@ukgateway.net

RATING: PG-13

DISCLAIMER: See Part 1

ARCHIVE: Please check with me first.

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"Everything I possess
Given with tenderness
Wrapped in a ribbon of glass" - Annie Lennox (Cold)

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Part 10

Christmas Eve 7a.m.

John Carter massaged the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb as he read back over his last chart. It had been an exhausting twelve hours with more than the usual amount of drink-related MVAs and he was definitely ready to hit the sack. He was so absorbed in the paperwork and his own burgeoning headache that he didn’t notice Abby creep up on him. Her warm breath on the back of his neck was his first signal that she’d arrived for her shift. A broad grin broke out across his face as she began to work the tension out of his shoulders with experienced hands.

"That’s good - mmm - don’t stop." He leant back in the chair and enjoyed the sweet smell of her hair as she massaged away the accumulated stress of the night.

"Time you were off home to catch up on your beauty sleep." Abby dropped a quick kiss on the top of his head.

"Not much chance of that at the Carter house today - the caterers will have already arrived by now, clashing and banging around the place. And then they’ll be testing out the sound system all afternoon…" John sighed, thinking how much he wanted to be on top form for the ball this evening.

Abby stopped massaging his shoulders and rummaged down in her purse. Finding her set of keys, she tossed them onto the desk. "There! You can sleep at my place."

"You sure?" John pulled her into his lap, sinking his face into her hair and kissing the side of her neck beneath her ear.

"Course I am!" Abby responded with a few caresses of her own. "You can come back and pick us up at seven-thirty. Sophie and I are going to change here so we’ll be all ready for you."

"Great." John reluctantly let Abby slide off his lap and stood up. "Tweedale’s around here somewhere - I’ll tell him the plans. What?" He noticed that the smile had dropped right off Abby’s face at the mention of the surgical resident’s name. "You’ve still got it in for him, haven’t you?"

Abby hesitated but decided to get it off her chest anyway. "Yeah, well, I was asking around the other day up in OB. One of the nurses up there used to date him - Angie Goodman? Well, she reckoned he was a pathological liar and she wouldn’t trust him as far as she could spit!"

"Guess he dumped her, huh?" John gave her one of those irritating - one eyebrow raised quizzical looks.

"No, she dumped him, actually. She said that they’d only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks when he started asking her for money." Abby lowered her voice as a couple of their colleagues passed by. "Well, she did of course - $300 - but then he never paid it back and he kept on asking for more. And, she said, some really nasty people kept coming round her place asking for him and they weren’t asking after his health!"

John frowned. "Really?" He then shrugged. "Well I guess we can keep an eye on things but I’m sure Sophie can look out for herself. She’s a big girl now."

"I’m not so sure." Abby bit her lower lip. "She’s lonely, you know? And very naïve. I don’t think she sees beyond his pretty face and smooth chat up lines." John could see there was no point in arguing with Abby; when she got her teeth into something she could be as stubborn as a mule.

"Well, could you just drop it for now? I don’t want anything to spoil this evening. I’ll look into it myself later - I promise. OK?" They walked together back down the hall towards the doctor’s lounge. Just as they approached the door, it swung open and Sophie and Tweedale emerged, laughing together.

"Hi, John. Abby!" Sophie was beaming. "Oh, you guys have got to come see what Simon has brought me!" She turned around and led them back into the lounge. Standing on the table in the middle of the room was a two-foot high real Christmas tree in a little red pail. Fully decorated, it even had twinkling lights and a fairy on the top. Her eyes were shining with pleasure. "I’m going to keep it here for tomorrow. Isn’t it lovely!"

Abby forced a smile. "It’s great." Tweedale noticed her lack of enthusiasm. Deciding to ignore, it he pulled Sophie into one last embrace, kissing her thoroughly until she broke off gasping.

"Gotta go, sweetheart. See you tonight!" Then the two men left, leaving Abby and Sophie alone together. Abby thoughtfully stowed her garment carrier away in her locker whilst Sophie happily made one or two adjustments to the little tree. The quietness was suddenly broken by an irate voice.

"Is there no one working in the ER today?" Then the door slammed shut again.

"Oh great!" Abby muttered sarcastically. "Now Kovac’s pissed off!"

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It was an interminable shift as there was really not much to do. All the drunks were no doubt resting up in preparation for the excesses of the night to come. The department was garishly decorated to celebrate the festive season and someone had brought in a boom box, which was blasting out Christmas cheer. Lydia had baked a pile of Christmas cookies and at every opportunity groups gathered in the lounge to eat and drink coffee and generally avoid getting on top of their paperwork.

Finally it was 7pm - the end of the shift - and Sophie followed Abby into the lounge to collect their evening clothes.

"Hey! Look at this!" Abby was standing next to the table looking at the tree. Sophie followed her gaze to a little parcel tucked underneath it. It was a small rectangular package wrapped in midnight blue tissue paper, tied with a broad piece of gold ribbon. Sophie walked slowly towards it and took it in her hand. There was a piece of card slipped inside the ribbon. She pulled it out and turned it over. Just the initial ‘S’ was written in an unknown hand.

"Well, go on! Open it!" Abby pressed her friend. Sophie carefully pulled the paper apart, revealing a small leather-bound book. Opening it, she read the title page aloud. "Sixteenth Century Love Poetry". She felt a shiver down her back. Who was it from? As she leafed through the pages for some clue, the book fell open on a page marked by a slip of paper. Both girls read together the first few lines of the familiar poem:

O, no, it is an ever-fixed mark,…"

"Wow!" Abby mouthed. "That’s what I call romantic!"

Sophie was speechless. She had never received such a beautiful gift. She examined the book for any clues on the identity of the unknown giver. The slip of paper, which had marked the page, was even more mysterious. It appeared to have been torn out of a magazine. There was part of an advertisement for garden machinery on one side and on the other a picture of what looked like a small earthenware vessel. It was primitively shaped - a bit like a pot-bellied headless bird. Sophie slipped the paper back in where she had found it.

"We’d better hurry - John will be here soon." Abby went to open her locker whilst Sophie still stood dreamily fingering the book. At last she slipped it inside her purse and followed Abby to the ladies’ bathroom.

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7.30pm

Luka entered the doctors’ lounge, which was empty now except for the little Christmas tree with its randomly flashing lights. The day shift had mostly left, making their way home to celebrate Christmas with their nearest and dearest. The night shift was already hard at work seeing patients. He had deliberately hung back - finishing up his charts in the privacy of the suture room. Now he took his coat from the locker and wearily slipped his arms into the sleeves. Groping in his pockets for his car keys, his fingers first closed around a short piece of stiff gold ribbon. Glancing over at the tree, he saw that the little parcel had gone.

He sighed. Christmas was not a good time for him. The memories of the few precious celebrations he had shared with his little family - before the war had torn it apart - were painfully vivid now. Work had always been his refuge and he would sign up for every available shift. But now even here in the hospital he was not safe from heartache. Slinging his old canvas hold all over his shoulder, he pushed open the door of the lounge. The hallway was unusually quiet and he began to stride purposefully towards the exit. Just opposite the admit desk, he saw John Carter talking with Simon Tweedale. Both men were immaculately turned out in tuxedos and Luka bent his head to avoid the inevitable greetings.

Just as he thought he was going to successfully make his escape, his attention was caught by an odd whistling sound as Carter and Tweedale both sharply drew in their breath. Instinctively Luka looked up and followed their gaze to see Abby and Sophie parading down the hallway like two models on a Parisian catwalk. Abby, who was almost wearing a clinging velvety dress, which showed off every contour of her feminine charms, was grinning broadly. But Luka’s eyes were transfixed by the sight of Sophie, gliding down the hallway in an ethereal sky blue chiffon dress. Her pale skin and elfin features were perfectly complimented by the flimsy garment, which barely concealed her slender body.

"Dragi boze!" He muttered under his breath and strode out into the cold night air.

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10.30pm

From her viewpoint on the landing, the crowd below looked like a dazzling array of multi-coloured jewels sprinkled across the huge marble-floored reception room. Although she didn’t normally suffer from vertigo, Sophie gripped the handrail tightly with her right hand as she made her way carefully down the magnificent staircase. Who would have thought that just two small glasses of champagne would have made her so giddy? Catching sight of Abby and John waiting for her by the Christmas tree she smiled to herself. It was hard to believe that after just three weeks at County she had already made such good friends. As she reached the bottom, Simon returned from the bar with another glass of fruit punch for her.

"Here you are, sweetheart." He handed her the brimming glass and she took it gratefully. Although it was a little sweet and syrupy for her taste, it was awfully hot in the crowded reception room and she was tremendously thirsty. As she drained the glass, Simon took it from her and parked it on a nearby table.

"C’mon, let’s dance." She willingly allowed him to lead her back onto the dance floor. Perhaps it was all the dancing that had put her head in a spin. She felt as if she were dreaming - why else would such a handsome and ambitious young man be interested in her? Simon certainly made no secret of his interest. Indeed, as they danced, their bodies pressed tight together, his desire was quite apparent.

Sophie was also keenly aware of her own growing excitement. Although she longed for the inevitable climax to their evening, part of her also dreaded it. What if she was a disappointment to him? Her sexual experience was limited to a couple of unconsummated high school romances - nothing more than teenage groping sessions. Somehow there had never been anyone to catch her interest at college. Or, more likely, she’d been too focussed on her studies to notice. Whatever, as she rested her face against the broad shoulder of the man in her arms, she knew that tonight was going to be the beginning of something.

After watching Sophie and Simon dancing for a couple of minutes, Abby handed her empty glass to John.

"Fill me up, please!" Abby reached up and playfully pulled on John’s bow tie. "That’s one thing I can’t criticise Tweedale for - he’s been running backward and forwards to the bar for Sophie all evening!"

"Touché." John grinned. "I am your slave - consider it done!" After bowing he made his way through the crowded room to the bar.

Whilst he was waiting for some service a distinguished grey haired gentleman caught his attention.

"John Carter?"

Turning, John recognised him at once. "Judge Adams! Well - how are you, sir?" He held out his hand, which was gripped firmly by the elder man.

"Fine. Fine. I can see that you are doing well, hmm?" Adams had a way of twinkling his eyes that was very endearing.

"Thank you."

"And is that your young lady I saw you talking with?"

"Yes, sir. Abby Lockhart." John found himself almost blushing under Adam’s beady-eyed scrutiny.

"Lovely looking young woman. You’re a very lucky chap."

"Thank you. She’s very bright too."

"All the better." Judge Adams paused to take a sip from his whiskey. "Now, was that Sophie O’Neill I saw, dancing with that tall blond fellow?"

"Yes. I didn’t know you knew…" Then John realised. "Oh, of course you must have known her father?"

"Tommy O’Neill? Yes - fine fellow. Very sad." Both men shared a moment’s reflection before Judge Adams went on. "Yes, Tommy and I went back a long way - longer than I’ve known your family even. And Sophie - well, I’ve known her since she was a baby. God knows what Tommy would have thought of that dress, if it is a dress. Lord, I don’t think I’ve seen a garment like that outside of a bedroom!"

John wasn’t sure that that there was any appropriate response to that comment and took the opportunity to place his order with the barman. Turning back to the judge he saw that he was still watching Sophie and Simon intently.

"So who’s the lad? Hmm?" He now fixed John again with a gaze that would not be ignored. John imagined that he could put the fear of God into the defendants that appeared before him.

"Simon Tweedale. He’s a surgical resident at County. Expected to go far from all accounts."

Judge Adams was frowning. "I’ve seen him somewhere before. I never forget a face. Names - well I have a bit of trouble with them nowadays but a face I never forget."

"Perhaps you’ve seen him at the hospital?" John suggested.

"Hospital?" He sounded outraged. "I’ve never had a day’s ill health in my life! Certainly never set foot in a hospital!"

John grinned. "Well I’m glad to hear it, sir."

The judge was smiling too. "Hmm, well you’d better be getting that drink back to your young lady, else she’ll be looking elsewhere for service." John almost did a double take - not sure if the judge intended that double entendre.

"It was nice talking with you, sir." John shook hands with him again.

"Simon Tweedale, you say his name is? Hmm, I’ll let you know if I remember where I’ve seen him." He waved John off.

"You do that, sir, I’d be interested to know." Then John finally squeezed back through the throng to Abby.

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By the time midnight arrived, Simon was beginning to get anxious about Sophie, who was distinctly slurring her words. At last their cab arrived. But, to Simon’s dismay, as they walked towards the door, Sophie’s legs gave way on the polished wooden floor and she sank to the floor in a less than graceful impersonation of Bambi. He quickly pulled her to her feet; relieved that John and Abby had already made their way upstairs. Damn, when he had slipped the vodka into her punch it had only been his intention to loosen her up a bit - not get her drunk.

"Slorry Slimon." Sophie giggled as he bundled her into the back of the cab. He quickly gave the driver the address and then slid in beside her. One look at her flushed cheeks and parted lips was all that it took and his mouth was upon hers, his tongue hungrily demanding access. Sophie yielded willingly, closing her eyes and losing herself in the heat of his passionate assault.

Soon Simon’s hands were roaming over her body. Finding her small firm breasts unencumbered by a bra he kneaded them expertly. Breaking off from the kiss, he bent his head and teased and suckled at her nipple through the flimsy material until it was hard, all the while teasing the other with his fingertips. Sophie’s head was really swimming now as he turned his attention to her other nipple. Her own desire was mounting, the blood pounding in her ears and she longed for him to touch her even more intimately.

The cab was just pulling into the driveway when Sophie’s head lolled gently to the side and her arms slipped from Simon’s back.

"Jesus Christ!" He couldn’t believe it. She’d only gone and passed out! He paid the driver and rummaged in her purse for the house keys. Then he carefully pulled her out from the back seat and slung her over his shoulder - fireman fashion. As he put the key in the lock, he prayed that there was no fancy alarm system to completely ruin his evening. Luckily, Sophie had fallen out of the habit of switching it on. Once inside, there was enough light from the moonlight streaming in through the massive windows for Simon to find his way to the lounge and lower Sophie carefully onto the couch.

"Sophie!" He gently patted her cheek but was not rewarded with so much as a sigh. "Oh shit!" He sat down heavily on the floor. She must have some kind of guardian angel watching over her chastity, he thought gloomily, for all the luck he was having. She did look rather like an angel herself lying there in the moonlight. A slightly less angelic one, though, than at the start of their journey home. Her lipstick was smudged from their lovemaking in the cab, rendering her full lips even more inviting and her legs were sprawled apart in a very unladylike fashion.

Simon stroked the silky material of the stockings on her lower leg idly. Sliding his hands gradually higher his fingers discovered the lacy tops of her stockings and then the even softer texture of her skin at the top of her thighs.

"Sophie, darling." He murmured softly in her ear as he bent over her, simultaneously pushing her dress even higher revealing her garter belt and lacy panties. Delving between her silken thighs his fingers met the dampness of her arousal and instinctively he explored further finding her warm and welcoming. Without thinking, his own desire raging in his groin, he tore the flimsy panties away and spread her knees wider apart.

"Oh God!" His hands were working on his own clothes now. Leaning over her prone body - the sight of her small mound of dark hair on ivory skin excited him even more. Even at the risk of waking her up, he had to take her. Moving forward, he eased into her. God, she was tight - like a virgin, and so hot! He thrust deeper, slowly at first but then, he lost what little control he had plunging deeper and harder - again and again. She felt so good. Oh, God, it was incredible. He couldn’t hold it and he was spilling his seed within her. Jesus Christ! He sank down - careful at least not to crush her.

His passion spent, he felt immediately ashamed. He withdrew quickly. Pushing her knees back together, he hurriedly straightened her dress. The moonlight on her face emphasised the fragile whiteness of her skin. What had he done? This was not what he’d planned. He sat watching her inert body. The enormity of what he had done gradually dawning on him. After a while he stirred into action again. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her upstairs. Lying her carefully on the bed he arranged her in the recovery position before planting a last tender kiss on her forehead.

"Forgive me, Sophie." He muttered before stealing away down the stairs.

End of part 10

Pebbles@ukgateway.net

NOTES:

The poem is Shakespeare’s Sonnet no 116 of course.

‘Dragi boze!’ Translates as ‘Dear God!’ (Thanks to Slaven for help with this)

And a big thank you to Chris for taking the time to beta read this for me.