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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
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 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.

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