I'm technically proficient

...despite certain attitude issues

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I need help [RP for Lee] (spoilers for tonight's ER)
standing in the elevator
lockhart_md
After a strangely jarring conversation with the new hospital chaplain, Abby finds herself taking the elevator upstairs, to the surgical department. Making her way to her husband's office, she waffles outside the door, pacing, stalling.

It's not until she sees one of the surgical nurses casting a curious look in her direction that she knocks softly on the door, then pushes it open. She takes a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair, and lets the door close behind her as she steps into Lee's office.

She begins to speak but has to clear her throat before she tries again.
Hey...how's the leg feeling? She approaches her husband slowly, gesturing to his injured leg.

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She nods, kissing his chest softly. You're mine, too.

I hope so. He hugs her a bit tighter. So...how long is this program going to last? What does it consist of? What are we looking at here?

She draws in a breath, letting it out slowly before she answers. It's...six weeks. She swallows; he won't like that. It's too long, she'll miss too much. But she knows she doesn't have a choice. First is detox. She almost chokes on the word; it's what she's dreading the most, even though she knows that's not even the hardest part. Then, just...a lot of groups, therapy and counseling, that sort of thing.

He bites his lip at the mention of six weeks, quickly doing the math. Christmas, your birthday, our anniversary...He sighs and shakes his head, trying to tell himself that none of those things are important right now. This is what you need, right?

I know. She sounds frustrated when he lists all that she'll miss. I'm sorry, I am...But yeah. I need this. This is it, you know?

It? He's not sure why she's making this sound so final, what she means by 'it' And don't be sorry, if this is what we need to do, then we will.

She lets out a slow breath, nodding. This is what we need to do. She confirms, quietly.

He slouches down a bit, tips his head to the side so he can see her face, Abigail? I'm all right with this, okay? We'll just have to make time to celebrate once you're home. I'm not going to miss out on my cotton anniversary.

She lets herself look at him then, nodding. Okay. She lifts her chin to kiss him softly.

He returns the kiss, keeping his lips pressed to hers for as long as she'll let him. He needs her, this, them. Letting her go even for a little while has never been easy for him but this time he's determined to let her do this without any guilt.

She makes a small sound in her throat when he doesn't pull away, and deepens the kiss slightly, needing him.

His lips part for her, thinking it's been too long since they've done this, just let go and kissed, loved.

She opens her own mouth, tasting him, one hand slipping up and into his hair. She knows it's been too long, and she also knows that maybe this isn't the best time, but she needs this, here, now.

His hand slips down her back to cup her ass, the other cupping the back of her neck as he explores her mouth with his own, not even thinking about the fact that this may not be what she really needs at this moment.

She shifts closer to him, twining their legs together, just wanting to love him, to be loved.

He inhales sharply as he leg brushes against his injured one, but it doesn't keep him from trailing kisses across her face, down the side of her neck.

She murmurs a faint apology and pulls her leg away from his sore one, even as she arches her neck to accept his kisses eagerly.

He mumbles against her neck, between the wet kisses he's pressing against her skin, that he doesn't care about the pain. He only wants her, the way she feels against him, the smell of her skin, the taste. He needs her to know how much he still wants her, still loves her.

She slips her hand from his hair to cup his cheek, guiding his mouth back to hers, wanting to drink him in. She kisses him hard and long, needing him, wanting him, loving him.

He lets her kiss him, groaning in pleasure from the attention, being wanted by her. He rolls them over, so they are laying side by side, face to face as he breaks their kiss, surprised to find himself slightly out of breath. I love you...

She's similarly out of breath, nodding, noses bumping with the movement. Love you too...

He smiles faintly as they bump noses, brushing against hers again on purpose this time. I love that you're my wife.

She kisses him again. I love being your wife.

He pulls her a little closer, so their bodies are flush to one another. I love being your husband.

She tells herself to believe him, and she lets him pull her closer, moving against him, repeating his words in her mind.

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