The Redheads of Mmm...Doctor!

Title: Revised Plans

Author: Amber

Dedication: Thanks to Taboo, Jackie and everyone else that encouraged me to write, for Jackie as a beta, and for all the "innocent" ones for making me feel comfortable enough to post this story.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of them, much to my intense sadness

Setting/Spoilers: This fic takes place in an alternate universe where Kerry is not with Sandy. No real spoilers. Set essentially in Season 8. From Kerry's POV. Kerry/Abby

Archive: Ask me first please.

Rating: PG, I suppose.

Revised Plans - Abby's POV

I trudge into the lounge to grab a quick cup of coffee on my break.  I didn't expect anyone to be in the lounge at all, so Weaver's exclamation caught me doubly by surprise.  While Weaver wasn't always on my good list, especially when she was in a bad mood, and while I try to stay out of other's business (and usually do a bad job of it), I still hated to see her in distress. I gather my courage and ask, "Is there something wrong, Dr. Weaver?"

She surprises me by actually telling me what's wrong, rather than brushing the question aside like I'd expected.  Seems the airline has messed up her plane tickets.  And now I have to figure out what to do because I could solve her problem of how to get to the conference fairly easy.  Question was whether or not it was worth being around her so closely for so many days.  She could be difficult to be around sometimes (to say the least), but I understood at least part of it came with her job.  'Ah, what the hell' I think. 'After all she's always intrigued me; it could be interesting to see what she's like outside of the ER.'

Weaver seems lost in thought.  I wave at her to get her attention. She seems slightly startled and blushes lightly. 'Odd'.

"Umm?Dr. Weaver, I'm driving to the conference because I have friends I want to stop in and see along the way, and I already have a hotel and everything, and what I'm trying to say is that you're welcome to come with me." I trail off, wondering if this really is such a good idea.

She takes me up on my offer, saying it would be a big help.  "No imposition, I offered.  I'll pick you up at noon on Sat., ok?" I reply with a grin.    She says okay and gives me a big smile and it's suddenly worth it just to have put that smile on her face.


I'm sitting in front of her house ten minutes early.  I?m never early, I usually manage to arrive exactly on time.  I guess I'm more worried about this than I realized.  Subconsciously, I must have been worried about disappointing her.  I suppose it's good I got here early, this way I'm mentally prepared.  Not that I really have anything to prepare for *I give myself a shake* Might as well go get her; it's not like she bites.


I'm driving and Weaver is sitting in the passenger seat humming along to music.  It's endearing in a way.  It's so strange to see her out of the ER.  I mean, I know she has a life and all, and isn't always stressed and out of sorts, but it's one thing to know it, and another to be traveling with a fairly relaxed, pleasant Dr. Weaver.  It's like seeing a whole other side of her.  One where she is considerate, where she doesn't have to be in control, and where she laughs uncontrollably (I think the coffee cup on the roof had something to do with that. Oops).  If the others could see this side of her I think they would be a lot more understanding.

For now I am just going to appreciate the drive and the company.  In all honesty, this is already better than traveling by myself.


I sigh in relief as we make it to the hotel before the rain starts. Driving can get so miserable when it's raining, and this way we don't get soaked getting our luggage into the hotel (well, more a motel).  I get out and stretch, starting to relax.  I look over and Weaver has this expression of true relief and joy that makes me laugh and return a similar smile.  'God, she is cute.'  Wait, when did I start thinking of Weaver as cute.!  I shake my head, confused.  Fortunately she has walked ahead and doesn't see to question me why I looked distressed.  I'm not sure what I would have said.

We head to our room.  Evidently the motel is booked up for some local fruit festival or something equally exciting.  To each their own, right?

I dump my luggage at the end of my bed and try to find a good TV station.  I need something mind numbing right now.  Too much driving.  After rejecting the Home Shopping Network and repeats of MASH, I get the TV to pick up a channel that has a movie on that looks slightly interesting.  Which, not that I am superstitious, seems to be the direct cause of the large flash of lightning and bang of thunder which knocks the power out.  I jump, and as I am trying to calm my racing heart, calmly say, "And I had just found a movie that looked good".

"I've seen it. It isn't," she replies. I'm still trying to remember if I have a flashlight anywhere in the car, and if it's really worth going out in the storm on the half chance there is one tucked under one of the seats, when the motel manager comes by with flash lights and lanterns.  I realize I've forgotten any reading material, and I really don't want to borrow a medical journal from Weaver.  A slightly mischievous thought crosses my mind.  I think for a second, and then think 'what the Hell'.  I gather my courage and say, "Do you want to play cards?"

She looks slightly disoriented for a second and then agrees.  I find the cards and start to shuffle, trying to do the arch that I'd been attempting to master for a while.  I just don't play enough cards to get it right.

"What game?" she asks.

"Strip poker." I say dead serious.  Ah, the look on her face was priceless.  A sort of cross between shock and incredulity, with a hint of intrigue.  I think that water she was drinking almost came out her nose.  Definitely worth it.

She counters, "I always thought that game was played when people just wanted an excuse to get naked."  I finally break down and start laughing.  "Oops, my mistake.?" It certainly would have been an interesting game, but it's probably for the best.  Probably?  Of course it is. I can't believe I actually really considered playing for a second.  I wonder if she knows I could tell that she did too.


 Last night's storm is softer now, alternating between drizzle and rain.  I hum along to the music, munching on the M&Ms I won in last night's poker game.  Weaver is a surprisingly bad poker player; she gives away a lot more with body language than I think she's aware of.  I hate to tell her that though, it would probably just make her uneasy and unsure of herself if she realized I could read her that well. I think it comes from spending years in the ER having to anticipate what she would be yelling for next.

I munch on more M&Ms, glancing over with a slightly smug smile.  She pretends to ignore me.  I finally give in and offer her some.  She accepts and I reach over to drop some in her hand.  My fingers brush against hers slightly, and it's like a jolt of electricity passed between us.  What is happening here?  It has to be nothing.  The grapevine says she is gay, and points to Legaspi as proof.  While that sort of rumor is always floating around, if the way she has looked at me lately is any indication, I think it might not be far from the truth.  Which doesn't change anything anyways.  I'm straight, right?  We're just becoming friends, nothing out of the ordinary.  I repeat it to myself, as if I don't really believe it for some reason.  I think I need to try to stay away from her the next few days.


I haven't seen much of Weaver in the last few days.  It's not like I've been actively avoiding her (that never works anyways).  It's just that I haven't gone out of my way to see her.

The closing speaker finally stopped talking, and Paula, a nurse I've gotten acquainted with the last few days, stops by where I am sitting.  She says she and a few other nurses are going out to a bar and that I'm welcome to come along and bring anyone from the hospital if I wish.

I look over and there's Weaver, looking lost in thought, while everyone around her has filed out.  I realize that I have missed spending time with her, and decide to invite her along.  After all, I'm not going to be drinking, so might as well have someone along to talk to.  I walk up and put my hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

"Dr. Weaver, a few of us are going out for drinks and I wanted to invite you along."

She looks slightly reluctant but agrees to come along.  It ends up being 10 of us at a bar that redefines "bad taste."  It's doubtful you could get drunk enough to make this bar look good.

I get my prescribed Coke and settle in.  There are about 10 of us, a few at tables, a few at the bar.  Paula is being a hostess of sorts, making sure none of us are left drinkless for any length of time.  I'm a bit surprised at how many Weaver has had, not that I am counting or anything; it's just something I tend to notice.

Weaver's pretty far gone by the time that the bartender yells out, "It's time for karaoke." I groan, attempting to sink lower in my chair. And I thought the bar couldn't get any tackier.  I refuse the pleas of the other nurses to sing, I would have to be drinking a lot more than Cokes to get up there.  I get up and go to the bathroom, hoping they'll have forgotten about it by  the time I get back.  I walk back in and am completely shocked to see Weaver and a couple of nurses up on stage.  Wow, she really must have had a lot to drink.

The music starts "I'm too sexy?" Oh.  My.  God.  This is priceless. She is never going to hear the end of this.  I cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing out loud.  Wouldn't the nurses in the ER love to hear about this!  I can't tell them though, cause Weaver would kill me (in all possibility literally), but one can daydream.

A little while later we all head out of the bar and back to the hotel.  Weaver is definitely not steady enough to walk on her own, especially with the crutch, so I put my arm around her shoulder to steady her.  We chat about random things on the way back, Weaver being cute in failing attempts to be clever.

We arrive at her room and I reluctantly remove my arm from her shoulder where it seemed so right.

"Here we are Dr. Weaver." I say.  She replies, "Call me Kerry.  We're friends, at least I hope we are."  I wonder if I can actually get myself to call her Kerry.  She's probably only saying it because she's drunk.  She's an adorable drunk, if there's such a thing.

I smile softly and say, "Yes, we are friends.  And I'll call you Kerry if you want, but you can change your mind in the morning."

She is staring intently at me, and says that I have very beautiful eyes.  I don't think she meant to say that.  I blush lightly red. It's an unexpected compliment, all the more flattering because I know it's real.  I've never really noticed til now, but her eyes are amazing as well.  Fortunately *I* don't accidentally say what I'm thinking out loud.  I figure the safest reply to her comment is a simple "Thank you."  She says, "You're welcome" and wraps her arms around me in a big hug.  Wow, that was unexpected.  Not at all unwelcome, but unexpected.  But she has surprised me a lot tonight.  I hug her back and we eventually pull apart.

"Thank you for helping me back."

"You sure you are going to be ok?"  I ask.

"Yeah, I just need a few glasses of water and a long sleep."  Kerry says.  In my opinion it's going to take more than that.

She gets the door open and into the bathroom. I close the door behind her and head to my own room.  Tomorrow morning should be interesting.


I wake up, get ready, and pack up my things.  I'm in no rush because I know Weaver can use all the sleep she can get, and because I doubt she is going to be in a pleasant mood to be around.  Truthfully though, I think I am putting off seeing her because she makes me off balance, makes me question things about myself that I had always assumed.  I like guys, I really do.  And I always assumed that meant I was straight.  I've never really considered liking women that way, or that I could be bi, and damn her, she is making me reconsider that.  And that's not an easy thing.  It's probably nothing, I'm just seeing her in different situations than normal.  We're going to get back, and she's going to be the same old Weaver that bosses us around the ER.

I sigh and get to my feet.  No use putting this off any longer.  I grab my luggage and walk down the hall to her room.  Along the way I pass a maid coming from Weaver's room that does not look pleased.  Ooo?this could be a very long day.


I knock and a short while later Weaver, wait, Kerry, opens the door.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

"It's better not to ask," she replies.  Alright, I can take a warning

She grabs her luggage and we head to the car.  We get settled in and have driven for a while when she emits a low chuckle.

"What?" I ask.

"Oh nothing, just thinking about what you must think of me after last night."  She seems to be in fairly good humor.

"Ah, don't be hard on yourself. You were a bit out of character at times, but you didn't do anything embarrassing."

I can't resist, I have to add a reference to the karaoke.

 "Ok, well, that attempt at karaoke might be considered slightly embarrassing, but I'm sure no one will remember."

I grin at her while she sinks down further in her seat.  "Argh, I forgot about that.  Did you have to remind me about that?"

"Well, it wouldn't have been so memorable if you had picked a song other than 'I'm Too Sexy'."  I finally break down and start laughing.  It's only the potential wrath of Kerry that has kept me from cracking up before now.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but 'I'm Too Sexy.' Why?"

"I'll have you know they chose the song," she replied indignantly.

"But you sang it!"  Oh my god that was funny last night.  I continue to laugh so hard I can barely see the road.  I'd give anything to get a recording of her performance.

"Come on, you could at least try to pretend it wasn't that funny." She says while attempting to glare at me.  I know her glares well, and this one is only half serious.  Still, I really do try to stop laughing.  "Okay, okay, I'll try."  I succeed for about 5 seconds before cracking up again.  I finally manage to not crack up when looking at her.

"I'm sorry Dr. Weaver," I begin, to have her interrupt me saying "I remember saying you could call me Kerry, and I meant it."  Ok, I can do this.  "All right, Kerry." I grin at her.

She finally smiles back and admits it could be considered amusing.  And that I can't tell anyone..    I laugh, "What'll you give me?"

"Your life?and a hot fudge sundae. And I won't buy a tape of polka at the next gas station."

Well, I knew I couldn't tell anyone anyways, so I consider the hot fudge sundae a bonus.  I pretend to actually be considering her offer, though I know she's not buying it, and finally say "Ok deal".  We shake hands on it and there's that connection again, that one that keeps throwing me off.  I try to focus back on the road, and not on Kerry.  But looking over she is sort of curled up in the car seat, looking a little worse for the wear, but reasonably happy.  And I realize that the improbable has happened.  Kerry and I are actually becoming friends and getting close.  Calling her Kerry has begun to seem right.


We finally get into the hotel after getting a flat tire around the time all the mechanics were leaving work. We finally got a hold of one who hadn't left yet and convinced him to bring us a  new tire.  So we rolled into the hotel a bit later than we had planned.  I really need to work on my hotel choosing skills.  This place looks worse than the places we stayed in before (if possible).  All the rooms are already rented, likely because it is the only motel in the area, so we are sharing a room again tonight.  Kerry walked into our room ahead of me. I grabbed my bags and went in to see why she was being so strangely quiet.  The sight of the bed explained it all.  The room had one bed -  one queen bed.  And that was it.  Oh no, this isn't good.  I'm not sure if I can trust myself around her, she is confusing me too much.  And while I can deal with sharing a room with her, sharing a bed is probably not a good thing.

I sigh slightly and say "Looks like we'll have to share the bed."

"At least I don't steal covers," she says sounding about as thrilled as I do.

We are not having good luck with hotels.


This is nothing, I tell myself.  Nothing is going to happen anyways.  I'm just being paranoid, which is a logical reaction to my *slight* attraction to her.  There, I've admitted it.  I'll figure out what it means later.  So I'm attracted to her, that doesn't have to mean anything.  We're adults.  We don't have to act on it.   This is nothing.  I roll over and fall asleep


I wake up slowly the next morning, arm wrapped around Kerry's waist, head resting on her chest.  The feeling of warmth, of her body, and just plain rightness is incredible.  This is most definitely not 'nothing'.  I don't think she is really awake, or knows I'm awake yet.  I lie there a little longer trying to figure out what to do.  A thought pops in my head. 'I could kiss her'.  I mean, after all I don't think this situation could get any more awkward.  I do think she's feeling what I'm feeling.  Either I need to find a way to move away tactfully, hopefully without her knowing I'm awake, or I could just kiss her.  The notion is strangely thrilling.

Before I can truly make up my mind, she wakes the rest of the way up and says "Abby, Hon, you need to wake up."  'Hon?' I know it's just a generic term of endearment, but it still warms my heart.  That helps me make my decision, both her calling me Hon, and my loosing my option of getting away without embarrassment.

"I am up," I reply lowly, making no move to get back to my side of the bed.  I lean upward and kiss her slowly and passionately.  Wow.  That was incredible.  I get out of bed and head to the bathroom to get ready.  I think going any further than that isn't wise right now.  We both need a chance to think.  But later, things can definitely go further - later.  If that kiss felt to her anything like it felt to me, she won't be able to just put it behind her when she gets back to Chicago.

And when I drop her off at her house and I've just about given up on her saying anything regarding the matter, she turns back to me and says "Can we see each other sometime?"

I've had a long time to think driving back, and despite my kissing her being impulsive, I really do think it's what I want.  I smile and lean over and kiss her softly, a kiss full of promise of things to come, an answer I know she understands.