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 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.

As she responds to him, he stops trying to rationalize their actions, puts aside thoughts of what they should be doing and simply focuses on the emotions at play. He loves her, he knows he's going to miss her and right now he only wants to be reminded of how good they feel when they are with each other. He kisses her again, lips more demanding this time as his hands tighten on her, his hips press against hers.

She moans softly into their kiss, responding to him, pressing her hips against his in return. This is what she wants, the reminder of how good they can be, something good to remember in the coming weeks.

His runs his hands roughly over her, untucking her shirt to press his hands against bare skin as they slip underneath the loosened material. Demanding kisses turn into more tender ones as he tries to slow down and savor this, he'd enjoy it hard and fast but then it would be over too quickly and that is the last thing he wants.

She arches her back when he touches her skin, and at first she resists his slowing their pace. It's been too long and she's hungry for him. She presses her palms against his back, under his shirt, feeling his muscles as they move together. Finally she accepts his slower pace, running her foot up and down his calf slowly, in time with their kisses.

He moans in response to her caresses, her touch. She knows how to turn him on, always has, and it makes his resolve to to take his time with her falter a bit. He wants to see her, feel her. Now. Working his hands between them, he grabs the edges of her shirt and pulls the material apart, looking down at her chest as the sound of ripping fabric and popping buttons fill the room. Sorry...He isn't, not at all and he proves it as he lowers his head to press kisses against the newly bared skin.

She barely stifles a whimper as she feels his mouth on her, her abdomen tensing involuntarily. She brings one hand to his hair, the other grasping his shoulder tightly.

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