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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He sighs. I know it's not how you want to be, Abigail...don't be mad at me...

I'm not mad. It's the truth, though she shifts away from him, intending to get up.

He doesn't believe that, doubly so with her moving away. I'm sorry.

She sits on the edge of the bed, head in hands. It's okay.

He sits up beside her, rubs a hand over her back, kisses her shoulder. No one's perfect all the time. I'm not always the best husband or father, you know that. He's trying to soften his words from a moment ago.

She merely nods, then eases herself off the bed, picking up his shirt from the floor and slipping it over her head as she walks towards the bathroom. She looks back at him. Are you taking a shower too?

He smiles at the way she looks in his shirt, nods. Yeah...if you don't mind sharing.

She shakes her head and holds her hand out for him. I don't mind.

He stands, takes her hand as he reaches her, giving her fingers a light squeeze. Sharing's always been my problem, not yours.

She manages a small smile at that, walking with him into the bathroom where she turns on the water, letting it warm up.

He watches her get the shower ready, reaches over to tug at the hem of the shirt she's wearing. Come here, Mrs. Dubenko...

She turns and walks to him, letting him pull her to him by the hem of the shirt.

His lips curl into a small smile as she comes closer. You look good in my shirt. He offers, not really having much to say but wanting an excuse to wrap his arms around her again.

She returns his small smile. I like your shirt.

He nods. Should take it with you then.

She looks surprised at that, but nods. Maybe I will.

He kisses her forehead then tugs on the shirt again. Should also take it off so we can have that shower...

She pulls the shirt over her head; instead of tossing it to the floor as usual, she folds it and sets it on the counter.

He intentionally gives her a thorough once-over, smirking slightly. You look better without the shirt now that I think about it.

She rolls her eyes and takes his hand. Come take a shower with me.

Yes, Ma'am. He lets her lead him to the shower, admiring the view of her backside.

She steps into the shower and turns to watch him, openly admiring his body.

He arches an eyebrow then, feeling a bit silly, flexes and strikes a pose for her. Come on, stop staring at me.

She shakes her head. I like what I see; why can't I look?

Fine. Look. Ogle. Admire. Covet. Praise...He tries not to smile as he leans back against the tiled wall.

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