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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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Turn the lights down, rock her, talk quietly...He offers his own method for getting the baby to sleep.

Make Way for Ducklings...He repeats the title mostly to remind himself then shrugs. Okay. Is there anything else I need to know?

No...She shakes her head, then stops herself, swallowing. Could you just...remind her that I love her...that I'm coming back?

He takes one hand off the wheel and places it on her thigh. Of course I will. I did the same thing while you were in Texas.

She rests her hand over his, squeezing lightly. I love you, too.

I know you do. He turns his head towards her briefly, giving her a small smile.

Good. She nods, returning his small smile.

We'll be just fine, Abigail. He tries to sound reassuring. You don't need to worry about us.

I know. She rubs her thumb over his hand absently. I know I don't have to, but that doesn't mean I won't.

He squeezes her thigh again, hating this more the closer they get to their destination. We'll be fine, you just...you just concentrate on you, okay?

I know. She swallows, the knot in her stomach growing tighter as they grow nearer. I will.

Good. This was becoming awkward for him and he was at a loss as to what to say to her. That's good.

She feels his awkwardness and sighs, looking out the window.

He pulls his hand back, placing it on the steering wheel again, tapping his thumb against the leather nervously. So ah...phone calls, visitation...am I going to be allowed to?

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