Fusion
Fusion
By Diana Kane
Fusion
Copyright © 2017 Diana Kane
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to any persons, real or imagined, are purely coincidental. Cities and locations mentioned are for added aesthetics only.
All rights are reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner without written consent from the author except for brief quotations embodied within articles or reviews. Please note that piracy of copyright materials is illegal and directly harms the author.
Dedication
To my dear friend Liz who kept me sane at times while writing this, constantly provided feedback and encouraged me to keep going. Without your support Fusion likely wouldn’t be available to the public.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Alexis
The neurosurgery conference is set to feature a new intra-operative imaging technology that the hospital is planning to introduce. Attending the conference is a unique opportunity for me. Typically a surgical technologist would not attend a conference like this, but hospital management and the neurosurgeons agreed that sending representation from the neurosurgical nurses and techs would be a great idea. Our team is small, consisting of eight surgical techs. Being the only one without children to consider for the four day trip I became the logical choice to attend. I don’t mind taking the trip. Not only does the prospective new technology sound intriguing, but things at home have been tumultuous recently and a break from the tension and stress will be welcome.
We board the plane the morning before the conference is set to start. Sasha is in her own words ‘young, single and available’. Six months out of her divorce she has resumed her wild ways and is in search of her fairy tale: a nice doctor to sweep her off her feet and out of the midwest. She is beautiful, bubbly and intelligent. I have no doubt that if she puts her mind to it, she will get what she desires sooner then later. While Sasha takes her work seriously, she has made it clear that the educational aspects of the conference are not going to be her primary focus. I know that once we get off the plane I won’t be seeing much of her. The same for the doctors traveling with us. For them the conference is about more than the technology, it is about networking, which means equal parts conference and golfing. I am on my own for this trip, a fact I am perfectly ok with.
Stepping off the plane in southern California is like a breath of fresh air. The warm breeze feels amazing compared to the cool air at home. I am delighted to learn that our hotel is right off the ocean. I have always loved the ocean and have vowed to spend as much time at the beach as I can.
*****
Being at the conference is overwhelming. There are so many people in attendance that the slight unease I always experience in large crowds begins to set in. I need space and fresh air to calm down. I am only obligated to attend the portion of the conference pertaining to the new technology. The presentation has been going on for over an hour and I’ve seen what I need to. I start to make my way towards the back off the hall, where the crowd is thinner, the tightening in my chest squeezing my lungs, cool sweat beading on my skin.
“Not sold then?”
I stop, the sense I am being addressed giving me pause. Or perhaps it is the voice itself. I turn to properly address the speaker but am temporarily rendered speechless. She is stunning. She has neatly kept blonde hair, mesmerizing blue eyes and a smirk that I am certain many have fallen prey to before.
“Oh I find it remarkable and can see how it would be of benefit to the patient, surgeon and staff. It’s just…” I trail off having lost my focus. The overcrowded space I had sought to escape now reduced to just the two of us. As I snap back to reality her smirk transforms into a full grin paired with a small chuckle.
“Dr. Catherine Waters,” she says extending her hand.
“Alexis Woods,” I whisper meeting her offered hand. The butterflies in my stomach take flight as our hands connect and I inwardly cringe because I’m certain my palms are sweaty.
“Sorry?” she asks releasing my hand. She raises one eyebrow, assessing me. It is one of the sexiest things I have ever seen.
“Alexis Woods,” I utter, trying regain my senses. Catherine’s beauty is disarming, distracting me from adhering to the social etiquette I’ve always strived to observe.
“So Alexis, what do you do?”
That voice…I could listen to her speak for forever and be lost in the lullaby of her words. “I’m a surgical technologist,” I answer, regaining some composure. My voice starting to sound like my own again.
“Ah, very nice,” she answers with a smile. Do I sense a small amount of disappointment? Mine is an occupation you do because you love it. Recognition and praise are not common in my field, and I have never required them. The reward has always been in the job itself, in helping to save or improve lives. Yet the thought that she might see it as disappointing bothers me.
“I’m sorry, were you leaving?”
“No, it’s just that—,” I start to reply before being interrupted by someone calling for Dr. Waters.
“Sorry. It was nice meeting you, I must go prepare for my presentation.”
“Nice to meet you as well. Good luck.” With that I am free. Free from the din in the hall and the trance I found myself befuddled by in her presence. I look for her before I step out of the hall but she is long gone, lost in the crowd.
*****
It is a perfect afternoon to spend on the beach. The crowds are sparse, the weather is warm, and the slight breeze and sounds of the waves crashing wrap around me like a blanket. I haul my book and bottle of wine down to the water, prepared to read and relax until daylight fades. Lost in the story, I read until it is too dark to continue. Still not ready to call it a night, I decide to walk the along the beach for a while. Absorbed in my own thoughts I am aware, yet oblivious, to the few people that wander the shore with me. How will Elena and I fix the rift that has grown between us? Can it be fixed? After five years together should we just walk away? The problems from home have followed me to this safe haven, refusing to be ignored.
“So this is where you were in a hurry to get to.”
My thoughts are interrupted by the silky voice from this afternoon. I look up to confirm who is addressing me. My eyes meet the deep blues of Dr. Catherine Waters, her smirk firmly in place. “Yes…well no, not really. It is a bit more complicated than just wanting to spend time on the beach.”
“Complicated? In what manner?” The smirk is still in place on her f
ull, kissable lips. Lips that I’d love to nibble and suck on. Hold on Alexis, what are you thinking? This has to be a side effect of the issues at home. Catherine’s smirk transforms into a full grin and I know she has caught me staring at her lips.
I snap out of my trance, my brain finally processing Catherine’s questions. “It’s just that I get very uncomfortable in large crowds. I was starting to feel overwhelmed and needed to move closer to the exit in case I needed to leave.”
“I see. I thought you looked a little frazzled.”
That was it. Just her observation. No follow up question. The silence between us quickly becoming uncomfortable, my social awkwardness making it difficult for me to find anything to fill the space. “So, Dr. Waters—.”
“Catherine, please. I’m not operating out here and you do not work for me.”
“Alright, Catherine. What brings you out here?”
“I accidentally fell asleep earlier. It is later at home then it is here, so I fell victim to my normal pattern. A commotion in the hall woke me and now I’m up. I decided a walk might be nice, so here I am. And you, what has you out here at this hour? Not enjoying the night life with your colleagues?”
“I’ve been out here for a few hours. Started out reading, now enjoying a walk as I’m not ready to sleep. I’m not big on night life activities.” I shrug and run my hands through my short, messy hair. “You mentioned home, where is home?”
“Chicago, for now. You?”
“Lansing. Moved there to go to school and never left. Why for now?”
“A few reasons. Mainly it is just too large and does not feel like home. Would you like to continue walking while we talk?” I am honestly so intrigued by Catherine that I’ve forgotten that I had been walking.
“That sounds nice.” We amble along the water’s edge, the silence between us again becoming palpable. A faint hint of vanilla tickles my senses and stirs my desire. I have always loved the smell of vanilla on a woman.
“You never did tell me what has you out here so late.”
“Oh, sorry. I don’t sleep much. I’ve never slept much or very well. Not a true insomniac, just sleep issues.” Why am I nervous? Why are my sentences so clipped all of a sudden?
“Sorry to hear that.” We continue to walk along the shore, the sound of the waves crashing and distant traffic filling the silence between us. “What were you reading?”
“Fingersmith by Sarah Waters. It has been a favorite of mine for many years.”
“What is it about?”
“Love, deception of both yourself and the person you love. I don’t like to spoil a plot though so I hesitate to say more.”
“I see. Neither the book or author are familiar to me.”
“I’m not surprised, she mainly writes stories centered around lesbian characters and relationships.”
“Lesbian centric? Well that would explain why I am clueless here.” Catherine hesitates. I know the question she will ask before she asks it. “At the risk of being rude, does that mean that you are…,” she trails off, unable to finish the question.
“You aren’t being rude. Am I a lesbian? Yes, I’m a lesbian.” Surely after catching the way I was examining her lips minutes ago she must have guessed this on her own.
“Ah. Right then.” I try searching her face for any reaction but she either doesn’t have one or her poker face is strong.
We continue walking in silence while I try to figure out what Catherine is thinking. Had my proclamation made her uncomfortable? I know the lengthening silence and my growing certainty that I have indeed made Catherine uncomfortable, are quickly turning my stomach into a tight coil.
“Well I think I’ll return to my room and retire for the remainder of the night. Thank you for walking with me.”
“Goodnight.” I watch as Catherine moves away from me, chastising myself for my conversational ineptitude. I continue my walk and deliberate about the issues that I face at home. This time the thoughts are interrupted by thoughts about the doctor, her blue eyes, devilish grin and those lips I would love to lock onto.
Catherine
The conference is like so many others, exhausting. I have nothing against networking, I am simply not in the mood for it. I feel drained. The climate at work has been stressful and the presentation preparation took much more time than anticipated. I am looking forward to wrapping up the presentation and finding some time to relax. I want to catch the imaging presentation but will have to leave early to prepare for my own, so I loiter at the back of the hall taking in what I can.
As I prepare to exit the presentation I notice a young woman moving rather quickly in my direction. She has a panicked look about her and is weaving through the crowd as quickly as she can. I’ve seen plenty of panic attacks in my time and I recognize it immediately. In an effort to help calm her down I blurt out the first thing to come to mind.
She freezes, turning to see who has spoken to her. She stares at me as if she deciding whether to succumb to the panic or stay and speak to me. I let her, waiting for her decision, the war in her mind plainly written on her face. Finally she finds her voice and speaks. The transformation in her features is a dramatic shift. I’m unsure why but part of me finds it slightly amusing.
I introduce myself and offer my hand. She shakes it but inaudibly tells me her name. Already becoming distracted myself by needing to leave I ask for it again. She tells me her name is Alexis Woods. I ask what aspect of neurosurgery she is involved in. Not another female neurosurgeon as I had hoped, but still a valuable member of any surgery staff. I tell her that it’s nice and her features transform once again, into a state of distraction or panic, I’m unsure. The silence lasts a brief moment before I offer her the exit she was so clearly determined to make moments ago. She comes to again and starts to respond before being interrupted by my colleague who is co-presenting with me. I’ve put off leaving too long and have to dismiss Alexis before I know she will be ok. I catch a glimpse of the back of her as she exits the hall, the tension melts out of her shoulders as she takes a deep breath and releases it. I smile to myself and refocus on the task at hand.
*****
A commotion in the corridor wakes me. I curse to myself. I’ve accidentally fallen asleep and now it is late. Sleep won’t return anytime soon, so I elect to take a walk along the shoreline. I throw on some shorts and a t-shirt and run a brush through my hair, unconcerned with my appearance at this late hour. Most of my colleagues will be out enjoying the city’s night life or in bed, not that impressing them is on my list of priorities.
The beach is everything I hoped for. Relatively abandoned except for a few couples here and there. The balmy weather and the salt water scented air are invigorating. I make my way down the shoreline, observing the people I pass and contemplating what I am going to do regarding the issues at work. I’m pulled from my own thoughts by a familiar face coming towards me. It is the woman from the conference whose name I cannot recall. Her demeanor calmer, more at ease than earlier in the day. I feel bad about the rushed dismissal at the conference. I decide to say hello, only it comes out as a playful quip. I wince inside and remind myself that this woman doesn’t know me, or my sense of humor, often playful and sarcastic. She stares at me momentarily, before finding the words to explain what I already know. She begins to ask me a question, addressing me as Dr. Waters. I must interrupt her, I am not fond of formality outside of the operating room. She accepts calling me Catherine and continues with her question. I tell her a half truth. A stranger does not want to hear about the drama at work, how my messy divorce is making continuing to operate there unbearable. I turn the conversation back to her, wanting to be lost in someone else’s life instead of my own. The conversation moves a bit more smoothly between us, maybe it is the wine she is drinking.
Our conversation moves on and I learn that she is a lesbian. I think I’ve overstepped but she assures me that I haven’t. The revelation surprises me, I am unsure why. I have a few lesbian friends and a sister who a
ll fall on different points of the femme to butch spectrum. I don’t buy into stereotypes, people are who they are, each one unique. As I wonder to myself why I’m surprised, I also make a mental note of which of my friends would likely adore the short dark hair, green eyes, warm smile and athletic build that she possesses. I realize too late that I’ve been too short, she looks uncomfortable again. I take my leave, I need to be up early for the conference and hope to get some additional sleep before then.
I search for her the next day at the conference. I want to apologize if I made her uncomfortable and explain that I continually struggle with being too concise, my answers often misrepresenting my intent. I am unable to find her and realize that I will have to live with the unspoken apology, another stranger put off by my inability to fully articulate my thoughts.
Alexis
“The rift has turned into a chasm,” I lament to my best friend Abby.
“What’s happening?”
“It always comes back to the same issue. Even when we might be taking a few steps forward, we take one giant leap back. Elena has this sudden desire for children that I’ve never had.”