From: VICEYY@AOL.COM
Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2002 09:27:07 EDT
Subject: xfc: New: One Night Stand 1/3 Sk/O NC-17
Source: xfc


One Night Stand 1/3
By: Leelee
Rating: NC-17
Category: Sk/O
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
Summary: Beware of well-meant birthday gifts.
Notes: Thank you Sylvie for helping me with this!
Feedback: Please to Viceyy@aol.com


Jacksonville Central Regional Medical Center 6:42 PM

The ER nurses' station was covered with a combined jumble of old candy
wrappers, discarded medicine vials and printouts of dirty jokes copied
from the Internet. A wire basket sat amid the rubble, filled to the
brim with discarded patient charts. Meanwhile, the ward clerk who was
supposed to be dealing with them lumbered around mumbling something
about her coffee mug being stolen. Dr. Ayad was shouting in heavily
accented English to Dr.  Gonzalez whose English was much worse. He
turned to give clipped, incomprehensible orders to a nurse who had
never been north of the Mason-Dixon Line.

Delilah Post rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and did her usual
pre-shift survey.  Doctors screaming?  Check. Patients complaining
about the wait? Check. Disgusting stains on the floor that
housekeeping neglected to clean up?  Check.

She had to be at work.

After nine years of being on the night shift, you'd think she would be
used to the usual disorientation she always felt. The 'day off'
Delilah worshiped the sun. Couldn't get enough of it. But the 'at
work' Delilah would look up in the sky and ask, "What's that strange
glowing orb?"

The day shift nurses were giving her 'thank God you're here' looks and
Delilah did a quick walk through to see what she was facing. There was
a sixteen-year-old with a boyfriend-inflicted head wound in ER bay 4.
Her mother, who smelled strongly of alcohol, was yelling phrases like,
"That dirty fucker," out into the hallway. In bay 7 was a toddler who
had eaten some of her mother's anti-depressants. Luckily for every one
present, this one's mother was sitting calmly with a glassy look on
her face. Bay 1 was empty and bay 2 had a quiet, stable gunshot victim
in it. She walked by bay 3 and was hit with the faint odor of a GI
bleed. It hung like a cloud over the chaos.

"I love the smell of napalm in the morning," Delilah said to no one in
particular.
 
An Aide rushed out of bay 3 carrying a bedpan almost overflowing.
Delilah took a deep breath and quickly walked away. Deciding to put
her bid in for bays 1 and 2. She walked over to the nurse's station to
get more info on the gunshot victim and found 250LBs of angry ward
clerk glaring straight at her.

"Have you seen my coffee cup? The one my kids gave me with 'Big Momma'
written on it?" an angry voice demanded.

"Uh, no. Sorry," she answered. She was about to offer to go search for
it.  Having Althea owe her one was very appealing. But the ward clerk
suddenly remembered her reason for being there and answered the phone.
The lab was calling with the devastating news that the toddler's blood
had clotted. This prompted a loud argument among the nurses over whom
was going to stick the squalling cherub yet again. Delilah wisely
ducked into the nurse's lounge to avoid being seen. She'd just arrived
and had yet to have her first cup of coffee. Redrawing the kid's blood
was definitely day shift's responsibility.

"I really don't want to be here," she said to herself. Working on her
birthday was never a good thing. The party her Mother had thrown for
her the night before had just made things worse. Turning, 'the number
that should never be said aloud' was depressing enough without having
your friend's act like it was a reason to celebrate. She now had two
bags full of stupid gifts.  Everything from a free day at a health spa
from her sister to a vibrator from her friend Hilary. Just their way
of reminding her that she was getting old and hadn't been laid in
forever. It seems that all of the gifts she had received made those
two facts glaringly apparent.

Except for the shoes.

Delilah wiggled her toes around in her new Day-Glo orange, rubber
clogs and sighed at how comfortable they were. They were the only
decent gift she had received. She would have to write a long letter
thanking her out of town friend for sending them. "All the nurses are
wearing them now," her friend had written. She could see why. Her feet
felt ten years younger.

She started a pot of coffee and leaned back against the wall to wait
for it to perk. Someone from infection control had put a sign on the
bulletin board that read, "If it's wet, sticky and not yours, don't
touch it."

"Stupid is as stupid does," she told the bulletin board.

Ted bumped into her from behind, invading her hiding place. She
offered him a good morning, but Ted just grunted a reply and stumbled
further into the break room. With a new baby at home and a wife that
worked days, Ted's standard night shift red eyes almost glowed.

"Get any sleep?" she ventured to ask.

"Surely you can't be serious!" Ted answered while making a beeline to
the coffeepot.

Without missing a beat she replied, "I am serious - and don't call me
Shirley!"

Even in their sleep-deprived haze, they both managed to chuckle
tiredly over their long-standing joke.

"Don't get her started with the stupid movie quotes," Carla announced,
walking in and catching their exchange. She tossed her long, dark hair
over her shoulder and gave Delilah a huge smile.

"Hey sweetie pie," she said to Delilah. "How was the party?"

"Fine," Delilah muttered.

"I'm so sorry I missed it. Did you guys have fun at the bar after?"

"Umm yeah," She did not want Carla to know that she had sneaked out
early to go home and watch a Clark Gable twofer on AMC. She just
wouldn't understand.  Carla had a lovable, teddy bear husband to go
home to. Delilah had been making do with long-dead movie idols for
years.

"Mary said she was inviting her brother for you to meet. What did you
think?"  Carla started, but Delilah cut her off.

"I want one and two for my section tonight." Ted and Carla both
nodded. "Sure honey, birthday girl gets to choose," Carla said
brightly. Delilah rushed out to avoid further questions. She knew her
friend would corner her later.  Getting the info on Delilah's
non-existent sex life was Carla's mission in life.

She found the day shift nurse taking care of bays 1 and 2 and asked
for a report.

The gunshot victim was actually an FBI agent who had gotten shot under
strange circumstances. The how and why didn't really concern her. The
fact that he was stable and waiting for a bed to open up was all she
cared about.  He had been shot mid left thigh. Amazingly right near
another previous gunshot wound. In fact, the guy had taken a bullet in
the shoulder before and was in the day shift nurse's opinion - a mass
of old scars.

"What is your major malfunction, numbnuts? Didn't Mommy and Daddy show
you enough attention when you were a child?" Delilah said and enjoyed
the off-going nurse's look of confusion.

"Well, um right," she said and began to back away. "He's stable
anyway. And he's got his boss in there with him. Have a good night,"
she finished quickly and hurried away.

Delilah was checking the stock in bay 1 when Carla managed to get her
alone.  Like any good coworker who was married and obsessed with her
single friends' love lives, Carla sneaked up behind her and brought up
the subject with as much subtlety as a bull in a china shop.

"So did you like Mary's brother or not?"

Delilah just groaned and shoved the oxygen tubing down into their
assigned bin with more force than was necessary.

"Sure, he was nice," she managed to say.

"And cute," Carla offered. "And financially stable. And most
importantly, heterosexual."

And a massive geek, who thinks that 'The Karate Kid' is good movie
making, Delilah added silently to herself. Wax on.....wax off, get
lost.

"So are you going to go out with him?"

"No, Carla. I'm not interested. But you be sure to tell Mary I said
thanks anyway."

"Oh Del," Carla sighed and leaned against the stretcher with her arms
crossed. "It's been four years since the divorce and your beginning to
act like your life is over. You need to go out and meet someone.
ANYONE at this point. My God, sugar, you've just turned.."

"Carla!" Delilah almost shouted, cutting her friend off. "Please don't
say it. This is hard enough without you throwing it in my face."

"I'm not trying to pry baby," Carla said slowly and Delilah thought,
yeah right!

"I just want to see you having some fun for a change. Go out. Meet
someone.  Get some nookie," she added in a quiet voice.

"Nookie?" Delilah asked, trying not to laugh.

Carla put a stern expression on her lovely face. "Yes honey bun,
nookie! God knows you need it."
 
"Well thank you very much sugar pie, honey bunch, but you shouldn't
knock masturbation. It's sex with someone I love," Delilah retorted
sarcastically.

There was a discreet cough from behind the curtain separating bay 2
from bay 1 and Delilah could feel her face grow hot. Carla just
giggled and whispered.  "Sorry, I really only came in here to tell you
that you have a suicide attempt coming in from EMS. A twenty-year-old
who ingested half a bottle of Benadryl."

"Thanks," Delilah offered faintly and watched Carla walk out. She
stared at the curtain and shook her head in self-disgust. Beautiful,
now the FBI knows she's old, sexless and reduced to quoting Woody
Allen.

In the activity of getting the patient from EMS, she forgot her
embarrassment. But moments later while she was trying to start an IV
on the sullen, silent attempted suicide, she heard two men talking
from behind the curtain and realized they had heard every word she had
said. "Don't move Amy," she said to the girl and inserted the needle.
Her eyes watching the girl's responses while her ear was tuned in to
the voices behind the curtain.  Change "watching" to "watched"

"Did Scully call?" A weak voice that could only be her patient asked.

The voice that answered was strong and sort of gruff. "Yes, while you
were sleeping. She's catching the next flight out."

Mr. Mulder mumbled something and his boss answered clearly, "Don't
give me that, Mulder. Scully deserves a vacation. You never should
have run off half cocked anyway." He sounded angry but his response
seemed toned down enough that Delilah wasn't worried. She wiggled her
toes around in the loose clogs and kept listening.

"I just didn't have time to call for back-up," Mr. Mulder said
clearly.

"Yeah right, Mulder," the boss snorted. "Cell phone missing again?"

Sensitive guy, Delilah though. Although a really nice voice.

Ted rushed in asking her if she needed help. She sent him out with
Amy's blood to send to the lab and to get her some charcoal. Hooking
Amy up to the various monitors, she explained to the girl about the
importance of drinking the charcoal to neutralize the Benadryl still
in her stomach. All the while she kept catching bits of the story from
the other side of the curtain. By the time she had Amy sitting up and
ready to drink the charcoal, she was incredibly confused over who or
what exactly had shot Mr. Mulder. She was even more curious about his
boss' firm and gravelly voice.

Taking a quick second to appease her curiosity, she slipped over by
the curtain and peeked behind it. Mr. Mulder lay quietly on the bed.
His eyes were mildly glassy from morphine and the pressure dressing
showing up a stark white against his long tan leg. Not bad, Delilah
thought, but she actually caught her breath when she saw the boss. The
man, who Mr. Mulder was calling just 'Skinner', sat beside the
stretcher. He was leaning back in his chair with one arm propped on
the side rail. His white dress shirt stretched taut across a chest the
likes that Delilah had only seen in the movies.
 
"Hello, gorgeous," Delilah whispered. Now why couldn't Mary's nerdy
brother look like that?

She let her eyes travel slowly up his chest and over the features of
his strong face. She was getting more breathless all the while before
realizing that he was looking right back at her.

She jerked and quickly moved back behind the curtain. Whoa, she
thought.  Instant contact with his dark brown eyes and her legs were
shaking. Amazing.
 

Ted walked in and dragged her back to reality. He handed her a bottle
of charcoal and she started the messy process of getting Amy to drink
it.  Sweetly, she coaxed her patient to swallow some of the charcoal
until she was pushed away when the girl became belligerent over the
taste.

"That's just too gross. I won't drink it!"

"You have to, Amy. You have no choice. Any choices you had, you lost
when you tried to take your own life," Delilah said tiredly. It was a
speech she had given far too many times.

"I'll puke," the girl whined. "It's just too gross."

Perfectly aware that her words were being overheard next-door, Delilah
sighed and looked the girl straight in the eye before saying, "This
isn't personal, Amy, it's business. Either you drink it or me and Ted
will hold you down, put a tube down your throat and pump it into your
stomach. THAT'S your only choice."

Reluctantly Amy began to drink the thick, pitch-black fluid.

Delilah held the glass and tipped it at regular intervals up to Amy's
mouth, the face of the man next door still very fresh in her mind.
What are the odds that he was married? And what were the odds that her
ideal of what a sexy guy should look like would suddenly show up in
bay 2? Wonder if he'd go for a drink tomorrow night? So caught up in
her pondering, Delilah almost missed the first signs of trouble from
Amy.

The girl's face had screwed up in a grimace and she gave a slight
cough. Just a tiny cough, but Delilah, who had seen everything before,
knew that trouble was looming.

"Houston - we have a problem," Delilah had time to say before the girl
suddenly vomited. Copious amounts of the tarry-colored liquid shot
straight up into the air. It looked like an obscene fountain spraying
out of the young girl's mouth... before landing with a loud splat
right on top of Delilah's new clogs.

"She slimed me!" Delilah muttered under her breath with a grimace. Amy
looked up at her and offered her a sheepish, black smile. The charcoal
covered her mouth and made her look like Al Jolson, only in reverse.

On reflex, Delilah grabbed for the suction tubing, cursing herself
when her hand came up empty. She had been so focused on the hottie
next-door that she had forgotten the golden rule of administering
charcoal. Never, ever give it to someone without suction handy. The
risk for aspiration was very high.  Checking Amy over quickly to see
that the girl was alert, she rushed out and ran down the hall to the
supply closet. Her now stained clogs made a loud, wet, slapping noise
as she ran. Ignoring Althea's shrieks over the mess that she was
making, Delilah grabbed fresh suction tubing and rushed back to bay 1.

With amazingly poor timing, the curtain to bay 2 parted and the object
of her fascination stepped out. Standing there in all his
white-shirted glory, the hottie looked like he was about to ask her
something when she stopped suddenly and the impossible happened.

Her right clog flew off her running foot.

It wasn't a direct hit. Delilah thanked God for that, but still she
watched in horror as her brand new and now grossly covered clog, flew
through the air and hit the man.

Right in the crotch of his expensive looking gray slacks.

The man just stood stock still as her clog landed with a wet thump on
the floor. Huge smears of black regurgitated charcoal covered his
front. And the only thing that Delilah could think to say was, "Of all
the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you walk into mine."


One Night Stand 2/3 By Leelee NC-17

Carla had come to her aid. Lovely, wonderful Carla, who she would
never be mean to again, had pulled Mr. Skinner back into bay 2. While
she retrieved her filthy clog and dashed back in to Amy.

"Hey, did you just kick that dude in the nuts?" Amy asked in a voice
that was way too loud for someone who should be somnolent from
Benadryl.

"It was an accident," Delilah hissed and shoved the suction into Amy's
mouth before she could say anything more.

She could hear Carla offering Mr. Skinner paper towels and apologizing
profusely for her. Bless Carla, Delilah thought. If I ever get laid
again, I will write her a book. Delilah tended to Amy and fought the
urge to run screaming from the hospital. Any thought of asking the man
out for a drink had flown out the window with the same force as her
shoe flying off her foot.  The hottie probably thought she was
hopeless.

It took another hour and one emotional scene between Amy and her
long-suffering mother before Delilah was able to get the girl
transferred to the floor. Delilah was beginning to suspect that the
kid hadn't taken as many pills as she said she had. She was awfully
alert and seemed far too pleased at the effect her suicide attempt was
having on those around her. So it was with a sense of relief that
Delilah wheeled the kid up to the CCU. High drama just wasn't what she
wanted to face on her birthday.

Carla had continued to help her by checking on Mr. Mulder and seeing
to his needs. But Delilah knew that she would eventually have to go in
and tend to her own patient. She dreaded the thought of seeing Mr.
Skinner, though, and took more time than was necessary cleaning bay 1.
Ignoring the odd looks from the housekeeper, she bent down and helped
her clean the stained floor, finally shooing the woman out of the
room.
  
"You were kind of rough on that kid," a deep voice said behind her.
She turned to look up at Mr. Skinner standing just inside the curtain
to bay 1.  Delilah waited for her hackles to rise over his statement.
But she just couldn't get up the energy to get angry. Plus, giving him
a good put down wouldn't be fair considering the poor man was standing
there with his crotch stained black.

"I know it may seem that way, but when you've spent so many years
seeing so many people fighting for life, it's hard to see someone so
young throwing theirs away," she answered softly. Mr. Skinner nodded,
his face solemn. And she was glad to see that he seemed to understand.

She stood up slowly, her eyes traveling up his body. Except for the
ruined pants, the guy was about as perfect as they come. She had the
strange sensation that he was scrutinizing her just as closely. And
the look in his eyes was telling her that despite the old green scrubs
and horrendous shoes, he was enjoying the sight. Delilah felt her
earlier breathlessness coming back.

"We haven't been introduced," he said suddenly. "My name is Walter
Skinner."  He held out his hand and she quickly pulled off the glove
she was wearing and took it. His hand seemed to swallow hers
completely. It felt large and warm surrounding her smaller moist one.

"Post, Delilah Post," she answered. Mildly wondering why she always
fell back on Ian Fleming in times of anxiety. Walter smiled slightly
and she let her hand fall away reluctantly.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Walter said and looked down at the puddle
of charcoal that she had been working on with a look of distaste. "But
Mulder is acting funny and I think you should take a look at him."

"Of course," she said and followed him back behind the curtain. Her
gaze watched the way his slacks stretched and pulled across his
backside. Stained pants or not, the man's ass was exquisite.

Mr. Mulder was sleeping heavily. No doubt a sleep induced by the
Morphine that Carla had just given him. The pressure dressing on his
leg was dry. And a quick glance at the cardiac monitor told Delilah
that although his blood pressure was low, it was still at a healthy
level. His skin was pink and his oxygen saturation was fine. What had
disturbed Walter was all the movement Mr. Mulder was doing while he
slept.

He seemed to be having a dream and they stood over him side by side
and watched. Mr. Mulder would occasionally flail his arm out and
mumble words like "Scully" and bizarre phrases like "It's a moth man."

"What's wrong with him?" Walter asked when Mr. Mulder started moaning
"The mold spores are coming...The mold spores are coming."
 
Mold spores? Delilah wondered. She turned to Walter and said with a
smile, "My first guess would be... a lot."

Walter looked at her seriously with a gaze she felt down to her toes.
"Con air, right? I just watched that the other day."

Delilah was floored. It was like a huge sunburst erupted inside her.
The hottie knew his movies.

There was a God.

"He must be having dreams brought on by the Morphine," she said
quickly.  "Don't worry, if they get too bad, I have something to give
him to reverse the effects of the narcotic."

"Good," he replied. They watched the poor man dream for awhile.
Finally, he seemed to calm and fell into a deeper sleep, complete with
very loud snores coming from his rather impressive nose. Delilah's
stomach was fluttering and her palms were so sweaty that she had to
look down to assure herself that she wasn't still wearing gloves. She
just didn't know how to say what she knew she had to say.

"Um listen, Walter," she began uncertainly. "I'm sorry I hit you with
my shoe." Delilah groaned inwardly even as she said it. It sounded
lame but better than what she really wanted to say, which was 'Hey
Walter, why don't you take off those messy pants and let me wash you
with my tongue.' Somehow that just didn't sound appropriate for a
professional nurse.

"They're just kind of loose," she added.

"And deadly," Walter said, smiling.

"Yes, deadly. In fact this is the first time I've worn them and I
doubt I ever will again."

"They aren't very attractive," he said and she felt a shiver run down
her spine at the grave sound of his voice. "You look more like the
kind of lady who wears heels."

Whoa Nelly! Delilah thought. That was definitely a come-on. Walter was
looking at her and she could tell he was really LOOKING at her. From
head to foot. Just as though he was picturing her not only wearing
heels, but a tiny little black dress to go with it. Maybe even less.
'Dogs and cats living together! Mass hysteria!' a little voice inside
her screamed.

"A friend sent them to me for my birthday. She's not in nursing and
doesn't understand the dangers of running in loose shoes," and just
like that, the words came bubbling forth. An unending stream of
dribble that flowed from her mouth until she forcefully made herself
stop. "The party was last night, so here I am working on my birthday."

"I'm sorry you have to work on your birthday, Delilah." God, how she
loved the way he said her name. He turned, faced her, and she made a
decided effort not to let her eyes wander down to his blackened
crotch. With him, it would be hard not to, even if his pants were in
pristine shape.

"So, umm how did Mr. Mulder get shot anyway?" she asked. Searching for
something, anything that would postpone her having to leave the room.

The story was sort of strange. She got the feeling that Walter was
waxing over the details a bit. He was calling the guy who shot Mr.
Mulder the 'unknown assailant'. She was a bit upset to hear that
Walter actually lived in Washington DC and not near Jacksonville. But
she was thrilled to hear him say that after his 'divorce' he had
bought a vacation house in Fernandina beach, which was why he had
gotten there so quickly.

"Lucky," she said casually, but inside she was screaming, 'I'll make
him an offer he can't refuse!'

"Have you ever been to Fernandina?"

"Only once," she replied leaning in closer and hanging on his every
word.  "But I didn't get a chance to look around much. I've heard it's
very beautiful." Her voice sounded breathy as she said it. For the
life of her, she couldn't remember the last time she had sounded this
way. It was as though Garbo had taken control of her body. 'Gimme a
whiskey, ginger ale on the side...and don't be stingy, baby.'

"Maybe you'd let me show you around some time?" Walter asked and she
wanted to sigh out loud. She fidgeted with the hem of her old green
scrub top and tried to look bored.

"Sure, that sounds nice."

Walter smiled and she could see a slightly calculating look in his
eyes. OK, she thought. Maybe he doesn't think I'm a hopeless, old,
undersexed jerk. She had to get her mind back on her job and off
Walter. This man was way too dangerous for her. She'd slimed him with
regurgitated charcoal. He'd listened to her talk about masturbating
AND she was starting to get the Sean Connery fantasy again. A fantasy
that this man with his dark eyes and unending pecs would fit perfectly
into.

"I have to get back to work," she said quickly and walked out as
casually as her shaking legs could carry her, turning to offer a,
"Call me if you need me," over her shoulder. It was her standard thing
to say, but from the look in Walter's eyes, she could tell he caught
the double meaning.

Naturally Carla was waiting to snatch her into the nurses' lounge. "Oh
my God, baby, he's gorgeous!" she enthused as Delilah poured a cup of
coffee and sat down to drink it. "He asked you out, didn't he."

Delilah just smiled. In all the years of being friends with Carla she
had never been able to give her good news like this. Watching Carla
dancing around excited for her was a feeling almost as exciting as
hearing Walter say her name.

"What would a guy like him be like in the sack?" Carla speculated
aloud and sat down across from her at the rickety table.

"Well, I'm not about to find out any time soon, Carla. Jesus, I only
just met him!"

Carla's face took on a serious mask and she leaned in closely and
whispered, "This is what birthday sugar? You've been celibate for how
long?"

Delilah just sat back and stared at her friend. Carla was right of
course.  What better way to celebrate her birthday than by reaching
out and grabbing life, and some of the hottie's flesh, with both
hands? He was attractive and obviously attracted to her. He knew his
movies and what's more, she really liked him. She'd been leading her
life through the movies she was addicted to for so long that she had
forgotten their most important lesson... Life was about living and not
sitting around watching. "Damn the torpedoes! Full steam ahead!"  she
whispered to Carla. A shout from the ER could be heard and they shared
a quick grin before jumping up and running back out into the madness.

By 1:00 AM, things were quieting down. Althea had left for the night
and Ted had commandeered her chair at the nurses' station to go
online. He tried to get Delilah interested in a game of Pogo.com, but
she wanted to hang around bay 2 and talk to Walter. In just a few
hours they'd managed to share their life histories, wacky college
experiences and favorite movies. She even found herself telling him
the gory details of her divorce. She was completely surprised and
pleased when he opened up and told her the basic reasons why his
marriage had failed.

Carla dragged her out when the supervisor called to say that Mr.
Mulder wouldn't be getting to the floor until morning. Her friend gave
her the news while trying to keep a straight face. She walked back
into bay 2 to tell Walter and found him scrubbing at his pants again
with a damp paper towel.

"It's probably a waste of time," she told him.

Walter looked up at her and smiled. He'd been smiling a lot more as
the hour grew later. "It's only on the surface," he said. "There's a
dry cleaners down the street from my vacation home. I thought I'd take
them there in the morning."

Delilah fidgeted nervously, the guilt of what she had done to the poor
man making her cringe. "I doubt it would do any good. Charcoal doesn't
come out of anything."

"Would it be alright if I left Mulder for a while?" Walter asked. "I
have a change of clothes in the car and I'd like to get out of these
pants."

'Out of these pants' what a sentence, Delilah thought. She wanted to
ask him if he knew she'd been waiting YEARS to hear a guy who looks
like him say that. "Um, yeah," she answered, fighting the urge to
laugh hysterically. "Go get them and I'll show you where you can get
changed."

Carla had been eavesdropping on their conversation. As Walter left to
go to his car, she yanked on Delilah's arm and hissed, "Go baby, go.
I'll watch your section. Go help him with his pants!" Almost jumping
up and down with glee, Carla whispered, "Take him down to the Doctor's
shower room. No one will be down there this time of night."

Delilah could feel her excitement growing. The Doctor's shower room!
That place was infamous in the history of the hospital. More than a
few couples had sneaked down there after hours to engage in some one
on one. Including, it was rumored, the Director of nursing and the
CEO. And although Delilah hadn't heard what the outcome of the liaison
was, the story had been speculated on for weeks.

The Doctor's shower room! Delilah was having a hard time drawing
breath. She turned from Carla, saw Walter walking back in carrying a
gym bag and could feel her face turning red. "Fasten your seat belts,
it's going to be a bumpy night," she said under her breath.

One Night Stand 3/3 By Leelee NC-17

Drawing on years of watching screen sirens at work, Delilah casually
told Walter to follow her. They rode the elevator down to the basement
level while he asked about the local restaurants and nightlife. She
could tell he was making plans for them, but she was only thinking in
terms of the next hour.  That was as much time as Carla could cover
for her without drawing too much attention.

"The nurses have a dressing room but it's usually a disgusting mess,"
she told him nervously when they exited the elevator. "The Doctor's
shower room,"  she forced out the words, "is much nicer."

She held the door open and followed him in. She'd never been inside
the Doctor's shower room and spent a moment along with Walter looking
around. It was the counterpart of the nurses' room. Plush towels and
small soaps were stacked up on well-lit vanities. Never used shower
stalls lined the opposite wall and a long padded bench bisected the
room. Delilah felt like she had walked into an upscale country club.

Pity she knew that the Doctors never used it.

"Nice," Walter said.

"Yes," she commented wryly. "It was built with last years' raises."

Walter chuckled and sat down on the bench. "I hope you're not going to
get in trouble for bringing me here."

She sat down close beside him and replied, "It's two o'clock in the
morning.  Do you really think any Doctors are even here?"

Walter nodded and reached down to unlace his shoes. She felt a
ridiculous excitement over the prospect of seeing his bare feet. His
back seemed huge and powerful under his shirt and her hands itched to
reach out and stroke it.

"So birthday girl, how old are you today?" he casually said, unaware
of the fact that butterflies were dancing a jig in her stomach.

"I forgot," she answered. "And I'll probably never remember."

Walter laughed and sat up. He'd stopped at the socks, but she was
determined to see everything. And if he would just ask, she'd show him
something in return.

'Wanna see something really scary?' she silently asked him.

"I've had a few birthdays like that myself. But really, you can't be
past thirty five,"

"Bless you," she answered.

"No really, Delilah, you're very beautiful," he told her in a soft,
rumbling voice. Delilah shivered as the sound of it coursed through
her entire body.  Her legs felt weak and she was glad she was sitting
down. Just the sound of his voice was turning her on. Walter leaned in
closer and she tried not to pant. Is he 'leaning'? She wondered. It
certainly felt that way. She could feel the heat rolling off him in
waves. His face drew closer and she held her breath until his warm
lips touched hers.

They moved over her softly, gently getting the feel of her mouth. But
restraint, it seems, was beyond him. His hot, slick tongue reached out
to touch her. She acted like a lady for a fraction of a second before
opening her mouth and letting him slip it in to taste her. He pressed
in deeper and she returned the kiss with enough passion to impress a
Hollywood director.

Except this was real and she never wanted it to end.

Walter devoured her mouth, his tongue twining with hers and letting
her taste him back. She attacked his bottom lip, loving the sound of
his groan as she suckled it into her mouth. Her hands were clasping
his broad shoulders and she felt a path of fire down her back where he
was stroking her. A gush of wetness spread between her legs when he
touched her breasts. She felt her nipples harden as his warm palms
cupped them and squeezed gently. Her gasp against his mouth made him
pull back and look at her.

"Yes, very beautiful," he said in a husky voice.

Delilah whimpered when he stood up and started to unbutton his shirt.
It was like he was opening her birthday gift. Hard muscles were slowly
exposed to her - a huge expanse of firm flesh all covered with a
sprinkling of fur. She licked her slightly swollen lips to keep from
drooling and squirmed on the bench, feeling hotter than she had ever
felt in her life.

'Happy birthday to me... happy birthday to me...'

Walter reached out and took her hand. Pulling her to her feet, he
backed up and eluded her arms that were eagerly grabbing for him. "It
looks like you could use a change of clothes, too," he said softly.
She followed his gaze down to the front of her old green scrub pants.
Flecks of black marred the worn fabric. The sight of it didn't bother
her. Stains were business as usual in an ER. She was about to tell him
so when she looked up into his eyes. He wasn't looking at her pants
any more. Oh no, Walter's eyes were glued to her chest. And when he
reached his hand out and brushed his thumb over her hard nipple, she
almost melted into the floor.

"Let's just take these off you, shall we?" Walter rasped. He sat down
on the bench and pulled her over until she was standing between his
legs. His hands slipped up and under her scrub top and he hooked the
waistband of her pants with his fingers.

"I normally wear nicer clothes," she felt compelled to tell him.

"Umm hmm," Walter said agreeing and tugged the pants down her legs
revealing her black lace panties. "Are these another birthday gift?"
he asked and touched her softly between the legs.

She gasped and jumped at the contact. "No, but they can be for your
birthday," she panted. Walter had pressed his face close to her and
when he chuckled over her comment, she felt the vibration moving over
her pussy. Her panties were tugged down her legs and he reached down
to help her step out of her clothes.

"You missed my birthday, but I'll let you make it up to me," he said
just before his face pressed between her thighs. His lips covered her
and she moaned when the tip of his tongue reached out and ran up the
lips of her sex.  Never had she experienced anything like this.
Standing up with a large, hot man now kneeling between her legs and
driving her mad with his mouth. His hands held her thighs firmly but
still she had to hold on to his head to keep herself from falling. The
whole sensation of having a man she had just met licking her pussy in
the Doctor's shower room was so erotic that she just knew she would
embarrass herself by breaking a world record on the quickest orgasm
ever.

Walter ran his tongue back and forth over her clit then stopped to
press it deep into her, using it like she wanted him to use his cock.
She gasped and groaned and held on until he went back to worrying her
clit between his lips again. Her climax exploded over her just as he
started to moan into her flesh.

Walter was quick and managed to catch her before she fell to the
floor. He lifted them both up onto the bench and pulled her onto his
lap. She could feel his cock against her ass, huge and hard. He kissed
her deeply with his wet, hot mouth until she felt herself calm enough
to speak.

"I never dreamed that any mere physical experience could be so
stimulating."

Walter chuckled and lifted her to her feet. "You seem to have a movie
quote for everything," he said and pulled her scrub top over her head
with one sleek movement. He made quick work of her bra and stood back
to admire her breasts. The air felt cool against them. Her nipples
were drawn into hard points and when he reached out again to cup them
in his warm hands, she leaned into him and moaned.

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once and
awhile you could miss it," he said softly and let her go so he could
undo his belt.

"Oh no, Walter," she said trying to make her voice firm. "You do not
quote Ferris Bueller to me and get away with it." She knelt down on
the tile floor and reached up to take over the removal of his pants.
"Besides, I made this mess and I'm going to clean it up." She unzipped
his fly and pulled the stained pants down his legs. She felt herself
get breathless at the sight of his large erection straining against
his white underwear. Her sex felt swollen and the cool air of the
shower room blowing over it made her very aware of the fact that she
was wet and ready for him.

"It was either Ferris or Dirty Harry," Walter said stopping to moan
when she cupped him through his underwear. "Somehow, 'Make my day'
sounded too cheesy."

She paid him back by pressing a kiss to the white fabric. She could
feel his cock pulsing against her lips. Easing his underwear off, it
sprang free and she began to pant. Walter was huge, larger than any
man she had been with before. Just looking at him made her mouth
water.

She tore her eyes away from his penis and looked up at his face. He
was looking down at her and she could see he was as turned on as she
was. His face was flushed and his pupils dilated with excitement. One
eyebrow lifted, giving her a questioning look and she laughed. "It
looks like I'm gonna need a bigger boat," she gasped out.

She took him firmly in her fist and touched the tip of his cock with
her tongue. The heat of him against her lips made her groan with
pleasure. She wanted to rub her breasts against his hairy legs and
reach down to ease the throbbing of her pussy. Spurred on by Walter's
sighs, she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock to moisten
it. He was so large that she could only get a small portion of him
into her mouth, but Walter didn't seem to mind. He stroked her hair
gently and let her love him. She ended each dip into her mouth with a
firm suck. Stroking and pulling him out of her mouth, she licked and
nibbled down the underside. She ran her tongue around the head again
and drilled it into the tip. He began to gasp.

She took her mouth off him and raised up until his cock was resting
between her breasts. Walter reached down and grabbed her breasts
squeezing them almost painfully around him. His hips thrust forward
against her skin. The sensation of his hard cock rubbing her sensitive
flesh pulled gasping moans out of her throat. "Jesus," he murmured and
thrust back and forth, his eyes gazing down at her breasts. She licked
the tip of his cock every stroke that came close to her mouth.
Kneeling back down she took him back into her mouth and tried to take
him in deeper, but Walter wouldn't give her a chance. He took her arm
and pulled her up for a fiery kiss before propelling her toward the
bench.

"That's about all I can take of that," he told her while pulling her
down beside him for a deep kiss. She could tell he was fighting for
control and the feeling of power over what she had done to him was
thrilling.

Kissing her hard, he moved her so that she was straddling his thighs.
His hand reached down and his fingers found her swollen and throbbing
clit. He rubbed her until she was pressing herself lewdly against him.
She thrust her breasts into his eager mouth and moaned nonstop. His
cock was brushing against her pussy and she tried more than once to
impale herself. Always, Walter would hold her hips and stop her.

"You're killing me, Walter," she moaned.

"Just making sure you're ready, Delilah."

She wanted to hit him she was so worked up. Walter had taken one of
her breasts in his mouth and was beginning to suck when she attacked.
Wiggling out of his grip to sit down suddenly on his cock. It split
her open and filled her so full she wanted to cry.

"God, oh god," she cried.

"No, my name is Walter," he said with a groan and thrust firmly up
into her.

She couldn't even think of a comeback. Not only had all thoughts
melted inside her brain from the sensation of being impaled on
Walter's huge cock, but he was kissing her deeply again. She braced
her knees on either side of him and lifted up slowly. They moaned into
each other's mouths. She waited until his cock was on the verge of
slipping out before letting herself fall down heavily again.

Walter's hands felt hot and slick on her hips. They slid around until
he was cupping her ass and squeezed. Holding her this way, he
encouraged her to do it again. And again and again until they had
worked out a rhythm that was threatening to push them both over the
edge.

He pressed against her chest until she was bent back enough for him to
find her clit with his stroking fingers. He worked her until she was
crying out, unbelievably close to climaxing again.

"Harder, harder," she gasped and he thrust his hips up faster -
pounding into her until she felt herself igniting over him - her pussy
squeezing him tightly. Walter didn't slow, he thrust into her
throughout the waves that wracked her body, making her orgasm go on
and on until she screamed. Never had she came so hard.
 
She felt herself being lifted and cried out when his hardness left her
body.  He ignored her cries and laid her down on the bench only to
quickly cover her with his body. His skin was flushed and glistening
with sweat. She grasped at his back and pulled him closer.

Taking her thighs in his hands, he pulled them up and apart until she
was completely exposed to him. He moaned her name before thrusting
forward and plunging deeply inside her. Holding himself above her with
one arm, he hooked the other under her thigh and lifted it up.

His next thrust hit her so deep in her soaking depths she cried out
with pleasure. He was thrusting so hard into her that her body was
pushed down the bench. Clutching him with arms and legs, she held on
tight and let him take her, and carry her, up higher and higher. She
could feel him losing all control. His cock pounded into her and his
muscles strained. The sensation of him exploding deep inside her
pushed her off the edge. She fell hard with him, her mind exploding
with bright lights.

When the lights faded, they lay still, both gasping for air. She
clutched him tight, not willing to let him go. "Oh my God," she
breathed. "That was the most amazing...most incredible..." Delilah
couldn't finish. She knew she was gushing like an idiot. Like an idiot
who had just had three mind-blowing orgasms, true. But still an idiot.

Walter kissed her deeply. This kiss was softer than all the rest. Her
mouth felt tender and bruised. Pulling back, he looked down at her
with eyes that held tenderness and laughter.

"See, it's not so bad working on your birthday."

"Same time next year?" she asked. Walter just chuckled and reached
down to nuzzle her neck. This is just a one night stand, she firmly
told herself before pulling him close and letting his large body cover
her. She enjoyed the feel of him for a moment until her eyes were
drawn to her watch. Only fifteen minutes until she had to get back.
Any longer and the rumors would start.

She was about to open her mouth and tell him when he raised up to kiss
her again. His hips pressed against her legs and she could feel his
cock hardening.

Let them talk, she decided and kissed him back.

Epilogue:

"I hope you're sending those awful things back to the factory," a deep
voice said from behind her. Delilah settled the dirty orange clogs in
a box and placed the lid on top before turning to Walter and
answering.

"No, I'm sending them to a friend for her birthday."

Walter's eyes grew large and his voice sounded amused. "Do you
typically send dirty shoes for gifts?"

Delilah laughed and left her packing to slip into his arms. The
kitchen of Walter's vacation home was bright and cheery. She'd been
surprised at how nice it was when he'd first asked her over all those
weeks ago. Resting her head against his chest, she breathed deeply and
let the delicious, spicy smell of him fill every part of her mind and
soul.

Her one night stand had called her just two days after their wild
tryst in the Doctor's shower room. He'd then followed the call with
two visits to Fernandina Beach over the past month.

She was starting to think that he liked her.

She lifted her chin and rested it squarely on his sternum so she could
look up into his eyes. "I'm sending the shoes back to the friend who
sent them to me. Because of you, I missed her birthday last week and I
thought it was only fair."

Walter seemed to be thinking over what she had said. His mouth opened
twice to reply, but he finally just shook his head. "This had better
be a very good friend," he said finally and pressed a kiss to her
forehead.

"She's the best," Delilah replied.

"Finish up then," Walter said. He gave her a squeeze and grabbed a
bottle of wine before walking out of the kitchen. "'The Thin Man' is
in the VCR and ready to go."

"I'll be right there," she said to his retreating form, taking a few
moments to admire his ass covered only by denim cutoffs. "Shapeley's
the name - and that's the way I like 'em!" she murmured. Sitting down
at the kitchen table, she tucked a notebook into the box and wrote
this note:

Dearest friend, Included in this box along with the orange clogs is a
detailed account of what happened the first time I wore them. The
story is yours to read and enjoy. It's not nearly as nice as the gift
you sent me, but it's my only talent and it comes from the heart.
Along with the story, I'm sending you some wisdom... `It's not the men
in your life that counts, it's the life in your men.' Happy birthday
Seeker, my friend, and many more! Leelee