Caught Between a Rocket and a Hard Place

Chapter One

AN: I own nothing

This was not happening. It couldn't be happening. Lunch was supposed to be about work, my fellowship, the study, anything but Romano asking me on a date. Romano, my sponsor. No.

Pull yourself together Corday; you cannot make a wrong step with this man. Just tell him you don't think it would be wise. Surely he hasn't thought about the position it would put you in with him sponsoring your stay.

Oh, dear god. He's still talking. No. No. No. I don't mean I've got an overall policy about not dating colleagues, but if that gets you to stop then sure. I don't date in the workplace. Or better yet, I don't date surgeons who have worked for my father.

We somehow managed to get through the remaining lunch, an afternoon surgery prevented any sort of lingering over tea, not that what the Americans served could be called tea. Out of Doc Magoo's and halfway across the street when he stopped me with a 'Lizzie wait'.

"What is-"

His hand had shot up and snaked around my head, finding purchase in my curls as the other arm went 'round my waist, pulling me close. The feeling of his lips on mine caught me off guard, and it was so unexpectedly delightful that I found myself responding. Moaning into a kiss with your boss is never a good idea, particularly when you're standing outside of work.

A low whistle interrupted us.

"Must have been some lunch."

Peter was standing by the roach coach with a cup of coffee in hand. The look in his eyes telling me that this was not going to go over well. I tried to take a step back, but Romano's arm was still firmly wrapped around my waist, and my brain had not recovered enough oxygen to think beyond grabbing him and kissing him.

"Uh, I um." Use your word's Corday. "Gentlemen if you'll excuse me, I've got a patient that should be done with their pre-op work." Oh yeah. That was real smooth Elizabeth. Just get up to the surgical floor and hide, don't look at Peter and definitely don't look at Romano. Just get scrubbed and get in the OR, keep your hands busy and mind focused. And not on his hands.

Tension in the OR was unsurprisingly high, with both Peter and Romano scrubbing in. Thank god for masks, or everyone would see how horrifying this was. Don't open your mouth and contribute to the snide remarks the men are throwing. Just get the patient into recovery Corday, ignore Romano watching you like a hawk. Ignore Peter glaring at you as if you've betrayed him to the devil himself.

The surgeons' lounge was a seemingly good place to hide after the surgery, with both men lingering in recovery, apparently trying to outdo the other. The Americans idea of tea was rubbish, but at that moment I was happy to have a cup of it to hide in as the doors to the lounge opened.

"So. You and Romano."

"There's no me and Romano, Peter."

"Oh yeah? That's not what I saw."

This could not be happening. Peter of all people couldn't possibly think this, not after last night.

"The man grabbed me and kissed me. I was ... shocked."

"I saw that. But you didn't stop him. Instead, you enjoyed it enough to kiss Romano off all people back. So. Where does that leave us?"

Where does that leave us? Take two steps closer, and we'll be intimate enough for you to find my right hook.

"What do you mean?"

"Elizabeth, come on. You've got your sponsor chasing after you when you're trying to get your visa renewed. That doesn't leave me much room."

"Oh. I see." Bastard. I'm good enough to shag, but that's it. Stupid. Men.

"Look, I didn't know what to tell my family today when they asked where my girlfriend was. I think this just wasn't meant to be. I certainly don't need Romano breathing down my neck over you."

The cup of tea was empty, and I was highly tempted to throw it at Peter's retreating back. Perhaps getting involved with a colleague was a horrible idea. Daddy would be so thrilled at that decision.

Avoidance was how I spent the next hour, counting down the minutes until the two male surgeons left for the evening. I had done a well enough job at it to think the admit desk was safe enough to review a chart when I felt a hand slide caressingly across the small of my back.

"You're avoiding me."

Of course, it was Robert. There was always some little touch with him.

"I'm avoiding everyone." And you. Definitely you, least we end up alone together, and I just grab you and- Corday. You really need to pull yourself together. You got laid last night, you're not wandering in a barren desert. You might have left the oasis, but you've been satiate relatively recently.

"Look about earlier, Peter's not going to say anything. He's been in the hot seat too recently to stir things up with another attending." Romano was looking slightly pleased with himself at that, but his tone of voice had not crossed over to gloating.

"No, he won't, but that doesn't mean he's going to speak to me with any kind of respect again." I sighed and finally faced Romano. "We were friends. Ish. But colleagues tend to look at you funny when you're a woman who's been caught with her boss. Or in this case, visa sponsor."

Well, that barb landed if the uncomfortable look on his face was anything to go by. Men never think of these things, why should they when it doesn't affect them?

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you in that situation, I just didn't see Peter standing there. I shouldn't have kissed you, it was a poorly thought out idea. I thought maybe if...well, never mind."

Poorly thought out did not equal a poor kisser though. Maybe if there was chemistry. That's what he meant. And dear god the chemistry. I will not blush in front of Robert Romano. I will not blush in front of Robert Romano.

"Look, don't apologize for a good kiss, but yes it was a poorly thought out idea." Oh god, I've just said that aloud haven't I? Now he looks smug, all the confirmation needed on if that actually came out of my mouth. And now I really am blushing. I need a drink.

There's an idea.

"Look, you've lost me a friendly colleague, the least you could do is buy me a drink. It's definitely been a day for it." In for a penny in for a pound after all.

"I can do that." He was so obviously pleased with himself, standing a little taller, puffing out his chest a little. His voice dropped, and the combined effect was attractive. "What ah, what do you drink?"

"Single malt." Not a date drink. An after work with surgeons drink, god only knows the number of times I've had it out with my father. Just keep the man at arm's length and everything will be fine.

Drinks were a brilliant idea. If the idea was to find myself pressed up against a back alley wall at the end of the night, necking with Romano. And I do mean necking. The man was so talented with his lips that when they were pressed against my neck, I was panting like a bitch in heat. Frankly, if he continued for much longer, I'd be creaming my knickers. Oh, dear god. I might already be there.

"Robert." That cannot be my voice, all breathy and low. His hands just tightened around my waist. The hormone-driven part of my brain loved it. The strong, stroking motions as one hand slid further up my back whilst the other moved down to cup my arse. I was definitely moaning aloud at this point.

His tongue was doing something delightful around my ear when I finally managed to regain a semblance of self-control and push him away. There was a hungry look in his eyes, and my mouth betrayed me at that look, suggesting we go somewhere else for the evening.

The poor cabbie almost got more than what he had bargained for. It was private enough that I had no problem begging Romano for more, soft moans escaping me every few moments. It didn't register that he was the one to give his address and I had not a clue where we were when we arrived.

That didn't stop me from snogging him senselessly when we made it through the front door. This was not the evening I had planned, ripping off my sponsor's clothes piece by piece. Yet there I was, half-naked as well, with my back pressed against his front door, grinding against him. It was his turn to moan.

Not really. That was just the fantasy my randy brain dreamt up for me that night. In reality, the cab ride ended at my flat, and he did not come in. Not for lack of trying on my end though. Oh no, Romano had been far more gallant than I had given him credit for, saying that as much as he was enjoying my enthusiasm he'd much rather take me out properly than come up to my flat when tomorrow was day eight in a row at work for me.

The state I was in when I crawled into bed did not reflect a woman who had had sex recently. I was much closer to a horny teenager yearning after her first lay than a grown woman with self-control.

And the next morning at work certainly wasn't any better. I was grouchy as hell, and it was being picked up on by the nursing staff, and worse Peter.

"Wake up on the wrong side of someone's bed?"

He was irritating. And I was still mad at him for backing off so quickly.

"No, Peter, I'm a workaholic with no life. I did, however, have a rather early morning call from my mother."

"That should be nice Dr Corday."

Oh, Shirley if only you knew.

"Not really. It was at two in the bloody morning."

"Oh fuck that." Even Shirley had a line apparently. Peter also looked suitably chastised.

"My thoughts exactly."

"Is everything alright?"

You don't get it both ways, Peter. Either you crack jokes about whose bed I've been in, or you're a sympathetic friend. Not both. Unless it's your bed. Not very likely anymore.

"She called to tell me the wonderful news." At that point, I adopted a somewhat mocking tone of my mother's voice. "She's 'being published for her paper on particular wave duality.' Or whatever. I wasn't really awake enough to listen. Doesn't matter because it could have waited till a normal bloody hour."

Shirley and Peter, we're sniggering at me. Bastards. Just what I didn't need. Tired and under-caffeinated, I would happily tear a new one into any American who crossed paths with me.

"Dear God, what happened to your hair? Did you not get enough beauty rest last night Corday?"

Oh, look. A volunteer. Even better with it being Romano, leaving me. . . Hanging? Frustrated? Bereft? Creaming my knickers? Creaming my knickers. Yeah, that's the one.

"Dr Romano, how delightful of you to join us." I made sure that my displeasure at his comment was known. Bloody wanker.

"Oh, so that's a yes. Well, I could tell by the level of frizz you've got going on."

Shirley, as a woman, instinctively knew that this sort of comment was out of bounds and Peter as a curly-haired man with an elder sister, knew it was below the belt. They were sharing a look, trying to determine just how I'd rip Romano a new one. I'd rather just rip his clothes off, but clearly, it wasn't going to be that sort of day.

The penny had finally dropped for Romano as the mood became clear, this was the wrong morning to pick on me.

"Dr Romano, I didn't realize you had enough hair to know what frizz is. Tell me, did you-"

I was cut off by a cheese danish being shoved into my mouth.

"You know Lizzie if I were your parents I'd ask that finishing school for a refund. I think the short-changed you on the manners."

Yes Romano, you're rather short change. And I'll let you know that. After I eat this danish. Damn the man I really was hungry. Being petulant meant that I needed coffee to go with my newly found breakfast, and I took Romano's right out of his hand.

Taking a large sip in between bites, I glared at him, daring him to say anything.

"Well, it's a good thing I was sent to public school instead of finishing school. And thanks for the breakfast, I really needed a pick me up."

Point Corday. I strolled off with no destination in mind munching on a stolen pastry washed down with coffee that tasted like victory.

Victory inevitably turned in awkwardness for everyone involved as the day progressed. Peter was still looking at me funny, and I felt bereft at the loss of his friendship. Starting over somewhere new was hard enough, and now I had lost one of my only friends. Or maybe it was the thought of no longer having a warm bed that had me feeling bereft. Who bloody well cared? Not me. Or at least that was what I was telling myself.

Romano was a different story, though. He acted so unaffected by the previous night that I took offence. Did it help that I could barely look him in the eye? That doesn't really matter does it. I had almost escaped for the day, free of commentary from Romano when he found me yet again at the lifts.

"Dr Corday." I hit the call button again. Please work faster. "Lizzie, did you hear me?"

Yes.

"What? Oh. Sorry, I zoned out there. I'm absolutely knackered, and I've been daydreaming about how to murder mummy dearest from afar."

"Ah. I was going to see if you wanted to grab a drink, but if you're dozing off in front of an elevator while plotting murder..."

"Oh." Well, that was unexpected. Here I had been cross with him all day and...

"Lizzie? You're zoning out again."

"Sorry, I just thought..."

"What, that I wasn't going to say anything to you?"

Bastard. Yes, that's exactly what I thought.

"You were rather rude this morning. Not a very good indication of any interest on your part."

"Well, I hadn't finished my morning coffee, you see someone took it and drank it all." He was giving me a teasing smirk, daring me to comment back.

"These things do happen." Coffee always tastes better when it's stolen from someone else. And my needs were more significant than his.

"So. Drinks?"

"Robert, it's my eighth day on, and I've barely slept. I think I'd fall asleep in my pint if I went out."

"Dinner then. Let's say on Saturday. Unless you're mad enough to work two weekends in a row, in which case I need to rethink my desire to spend time with you away from work."

Dinner. Dinner sounded tempting. And my favorite part about dinner was that the desert always followed it. It was a risk, though, and a big one. This could blow up in my face and take my job with it. The man has an elephantine ego after all.

"Alright." The wretched lift finally opened as I made plans that I probably wouldn't agree to in a more rested state." Dinner Saturday night it is." In to the lift and down to relative safety, I went. I was determined to sleep until I woke up questioning my own sanity at what I had agreed to.

It was roughly seven pm when I got in from work and poured a glass of wine and pursued the kitchen for the makings of dinner. I had made one questionable life choice today, why not make another.

So naturally, I rang my mother. It would be around one am for her. Yes, I might be a petulant daughter, be she taught it to me after all. Oh look, I've got gruyere, I could make a Croque Monsieur. It will pair nicely with the wine- oh she's picking up. And slamming the phone down. That's fine, I can call back after dinner, she might be willing to chat then.

Naturally, my mother never picked up, and I went to bed relatively early, hoping for a full night's sleep. A night full of rather salacious dreams and one rather horrible comment from myself of 'is that a scalpel in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?'. In case you're wondering, there was no scalpel, just his cock. Alas, as much as I wanted my dreams to be real, I woke up alone and in need of a cold shower.

The rest of the week went along in a similar fashion. I'd go into work sexually frustrated and Romano would be sharp and witty, whilst practically ignoring me. Until we got into the OR. I'm not sure if it was my imagination, but it felt as if someone had dialed the sexual tension up to twelve the moment we scrubbed in and gowned up. Spending hours working in tandem with just our eyes revealed felt far more intimate than in the past. It was as if electricity was flowing between us, and oh dear god, if I weren't wearing a mask, everyone would realize my face was as red as my hair.

What's worse was that he knew.

Damn the man, he could see it written on my face or hell, probably even smell it on me. I was not used to someone else being in control, and right now, he had all the power.

I had made it to Thursday without jumping him over the operating table, which I thought was a complete shock. It helped that Peter had been watching us like a hawk, and thus far believed that nothing more had happened. I had been exerting a great deal of effort to appear as if nothing had changed between Romano and me. For the sake of my job, I needed to keep that up.

It was sometime around mid-morning when the man himself caught up with me in the hallway.

"So have you given any thought to that impressive offer you got?"

I had no idea what Romano was talking about. Impressive offer? Did I miss him offering up his cock? The appropriate response was naturally to give him a blatant once over, his trousers were nicely tailored after all. He caught my eye.

"Remind me, which impressive offer is this?" A suitably cheeky grin in place and I raised an eyebrow suggestively to top it off.

He didn't disappoint. The look he was giving me made me want to kiss him if it weren't for the fact that we were at work. This could end up being a very dangerous game that I was playing.

"The job offer, Lizzie. From Gloucester."

"Oh. The boring kind."

"Lizzie. Behave."

You say behave, but your face says to keep it up.

"Or else?" He took a deep breath in, and momentarily closed his eyes. He definitely liked that response. What are you going to do if I don't behave? Please say spank me.

"So. Senior Lecturer. The job offer."

Boo. I wanted him to take the bait. Pity we're at work.

"I uh, turned it down. Sent them a letter this morning."

"Ouch Lizzie. That was brave of you, considering you don't know if you have a place here." He was walking away from me, leaving me standing there, stunned. What the bloody hell is he on about? Move your feet Corday and get after him!

"Wait! Dr Romano!" I managed to catch him one flight up the stairs. He looked amused whilst I looked bemused. "What did you mean not knowing if there was a place for me here? I thought-" I lowered my voice a little, least any lingering gossip hear more of this. "I thought you wanted me to stay."

"And I do. You're an excellent surgeon. But you never once asked if you could stay another year or confirm with me, you'd like to. The best you've given me is that you'd thought about it." There was so much sarcasm laced into his voice I thought he would choke on it. What's worse was the dawning realization that he was absolutely correct.

My actions the past week could have easily translated to those of someone making her farewell rounds. Ticking off the boxes on things to do in America, with shagging the boss right at the top. Trouble was, I had no desire to leave.

With a slight shake of my head, I looked down, biting my lip as I did so and uttered words I hate saying with a passion.

" You're right, of course. I've got no desire to go back to England and have neglected to mention it to a, ah, rather import person in that decision-making process. I'm sorry, I've just been putting off making an overall decision, and then the offer from Gloucester came, and I had to decide. Is it in, too late? For me to stay?"

"No. It's not too late. Just don't assume it will all be fine next time. I had already started the paperwork hoping you'd stay."

The relief I felt at his words was enormous, so much that I gave him a genuine smile that he returned with one of his own. New rule. Robert Romano should not be allowed to smile like that at work. I wanted to kiss him. Get it together, Corday.

" You're infuriating. Do you know that?" That wiped the smile off his face. Good. Now my brain could function again.

"I'm infuriating?"

"Yes."

He took a step closer to me, and I crossed my arms. The bewildered look that had replaced the smile was now replaced with a dangerous-looking smirk. I liked the smirk, that's what made it dangerous. It's very close to the look he gave me at the bar the other night. My eyes lingered on his lips for a moment or ten too long, and of course, Romano noticed.

"Lizzie." The low and soft voice was back with all its silkiness. "We're at work."

"That's why you're infuriating."

My Rocket Danger Meter was going off, and I needed to put space between us. Abort Corday. Get out of there.

I took a step back and spun around, intending to head back down to the ER and instead I ran into Edson of all people as he was coming up the stairs. Romano was laughing at me in the background, and Edson recovered enough from the run in to make a sleazy comment about finding me in his arms. I left them both at the top of the stairs with the parting words of "excuse me, gentlemen, I've got to go check myself into the ER and find out what shots I need to get updated. No telling what disease I just picked up with that encounter."

I enjoyed the sound of Romano's laughter at Edson's expense and had almost reached the bottom of the stair when I heard him say "Ouch Edson, maybe we shouldn't let you in the OR if you're that diseased."

The remainder of the day was spent avoiding Romano, my Rocket Danger Meter was still pinging, and I thought it best to give him a wide berth. Our comments to Edson had made the rounds though, much to the surgical staff's amusement as well as the rumors that I was, in fact, staying on another year. It was the news about me staying on that brought Peter to me at the end of the day.

"Hey, I heard you're staying another year."

"Yes, the paperwork got signed today. Had to chase Romano up a flight of stairs to get him to confirm it though."

He laughed at that. "Yeah, I heard. Edson was grumbling in the locker room about what you said to him. Listen, I was thinking since you're staying. ." Peter trailed off to look around and see if anyone was listening in. "Since you're staying, maybe we should go to that pub and celebrate."

Noooo. This is not happening. Oh good, you can see the look of shock on my face.

"Well Peter, you certainly are singing a different tune today. Care to share what changed?" I was giving him my best 'eat shit' look and was pleased to see him adopt a suitably embarrassed look.

"I . . .might have overreacted. My family was being weird about it, and then there was the issue with Romano. But he doesn't seem all that thrilled with you considering you had to chase him down to get the paperwork done to stay. So if he's cooled it and you're staying. . .maybe we can give this another shot?" Peter had that self-confident look of a man who thinks he won't get turned down. A natural consequence of me having pursued him for the past few months. But he's a fool if he thinks I'll have him back after ditching me at the first sign of trouble.

"No."

"No?"

"No. You see, I took myself out to the pub on Sunday, needing a drink and all. And I met someone. We're going out on Saturday." What possessed me to say I met someone escapes me, but it was satisfying to see the look of shock and dismay settle onto Peter's face.

"You met someone? Who?"

Shit. Think Corday and think fast.

"Bunbury, Ernest Bunbury."

"Earnest Bunbury?" He was incredulous. Not surprising at that name.

"I was more concerned with the pleasurable things my lips could be doing than using them to ask about his rather unfortunate name when we met." That was all it took, and Peter became guarded again.

"I see. Well." He pulled his pager out and acted as if he was being paged. Please. I was not born yesterday, and even if I was, it was to a family of surgeons. "I've got to go."

I watched him walk away before setting off in the opposite direction myself. I had just turned the corner when I ran into Romano of all people. Shit. He had been listening, that was clear. The million-dollar question was how much had he heard?

"Are you a Bunburyist Lizzie?" He was grinning, clearly amused. Just play it cool Corday.

"Oh god, you heard that. It just popped into my head." Thank you, Oscar Wilde.

"You're lucky he didn't know the term. What did he want that you decided to do some Bunburying to avoid?" It was clear that Romano already knew the answer, and just wanted to see what I would tell him.

"He wanted to go out tonight. And I said no. He didn't seem to believe I was saying no, so I gave the answer that most men actually respond to, there's someone else."

"And you couldn't come up with a better name for me than Bunbury?" Eyes twinkling, that was a good sign. He wasn't offended and seemed pleased that I had gotten rid of Peter by saying I was seeing someone. I've put my foot in it with that one.

"There wasn't the time."

"I take it you're an Oscar Wilde fan then?"

"Yes, The Importance of Being Earnest is one of my favorite plays."

"There's a run of it at the theatre right now. We could go Saturday and plan dinner around that?"

Romano looked nervous and sincere as he asked about Saturday, and it dawned on me that this was a real date for him. It wasn't just an 'I'd like to rip your clothes off' sort of evening. Bollocks. I don't intentionally try to lead a man on, but I've definitely gotten his intentions all wrong. Romano genuinely wants to go out with me and not just for sex. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.

"Lizzie?"

Well, Corday, you've got to answer the man. It seems you're between a Rocket and a hard place on this one.

"I'd like that." I was rewarded with the smile from earlier. The one that triggered my Rocket Danger Meter. I couldn't help myself. "Do ah, do you want to grab a drink? Toast to my staying another year and plan Saturday?"

The smile got bigger. My god, the man has dimples.

"Let me grab my coat."