The woman shook her head in delight at the playful nature of her daughter.


"Garrett, wait up for him. Garrett, do you hear me?"


"Garrett, wake up." Dr. Kreger spoke again, "Garrett, do you hear me?"


One heavy eyelid slid open to the harsh assault of the light that filled the room. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her. She could have sworn that her mother was calling out her name.


"Garrett!" Rob’s voice became a little harsher as he tried to arouse the woman out of sleep. "We’ve been looking all over for you. We have some family members that want to see you." His hand gently shook her arm. "Garrett!" Deciding that it was time for drastic measures, he yelled and nudged her violently, "Your patient is crashing!"


Dark eyebrows shot sky high on her forehead pulling her eyelids wide open revealing intense blue orbs. With a move as swift as a bolt of lightning, she was standing next to him, her hand grasping the material of his lab coat, "Which one?" The adrenaline pumping at maximum capacity through her body was like that of a caged panther waiting for the gate to open.


He now rethought his decision. By the look of intensity on the tall surgeon’s face, Rob knew immediately that he had chosen the wrong manner to awaken the sleeping woman. This woman was definitely someone that could scare the living daylights out of the most virile of men. He closed his eyes and gulped as he made a mental note to check his shorts for soilage after he calmed her down. That was, if he could calm her down. Wincing, he readied himself for her wrath. "No one. No one is crashing," he uttered.


The surging electric blue of her eyes searched deep into the windows of his soul. "What do you mean, no one is crashing? You just said that my patient…"


"I lied!" He was unable to return her gaze. "I had to get you to wake up. I’m sorry but nothing else seemed to arouse you." He sighed as her hold released. "I’ll know better next time." He assured her. "It’s just that we have been trying to get a hold of you for a while now."


Garrett looked down at her pager. She must have slept through the pages, and by the number of them, she guessed that it had been a long time that she had been dead to the world. "I must have fallen asleep," she remembered vaguely sipping on the cup of coffee. She looked down on the nearly full cup of black coffee waiting for her return on the small table next to the couch where she had placed it. "So what’s up that you’ve been trying to reach me?" She tried to wipe the sleepiness from her tired eyes as she twisted and turned her neck as if to work a kink out of it.


"The social worker was finally able to get in touch with a family member for that young boy from last night." Rob bit at his lip thoughtfully, "I knew that you would want to be the one to talk to them."


The somber look on her face and the slight nod of her head was enough of a reply for Dr. Kreger. "They should be here any minute. I told them that we would meet them in the family room outside of the Neuro-ICU."


She glanced at her watch, "Let me just splash some water on my face and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes." Garrett turned to move toward the locker room area.


"I am sorry that I had to wake you like that." Rob felt compelled to apologize again. "I’ll see you up there in a few."


"It’s okay, Rob, you did what you had to do. Given the situation, I would have done the same thing. Don’t ever apologize if it helps the patient."


He looked at her funny saying, "But how can we help the patient? He’s brain dead."


Her eyes once again pinned him. "We’ll help the patient through the family’s understanding and coming to terms with the loss. Sometimes that is all you can do."


Kreger accepted her words, knowing that she was right. Dealing with the family could very well be considered part of the healing process. It was times like this that he thought about how very little he did know, but he was glad to have been placed in the presence of such a remarkable teacher. His head nodded in agreement. "I’ll see you upstairs," he said as he made his way to the door.


*****************


The hallway outside of the Neuro-ICU was silent reflecting the serious nature of the area. Most patients here were immediately post-operative, remaining only a day or two until they would be transferred to a regular Neurosurgical floor. Then, there were the others. Those who were not well enough to be weaned off of a ventilator or those who would soon die from the total lack of brain function. The color scheme of the area reflected the neutrality. It was an area that could run the gamut of emotions from extreme happiness to that of severe depression all hinging on the words spoken.


The social worker stood waiting in the hall, her brown, unruly hair constantly getting in her way. It was not long enough to put behind her ears and too long not to fall into her vision or face with each movement of her head. The suit that she wore gave her an air of business as she presented herself, standing to her full five foot seven inches of height. She glanced at her watch only to check on the time. It was 3:58 P.M. and once again her hopes were rising with the sound of the elevator’s ding.


With the doors parting slowly, the figure of a man departing the elevator became apparent. The crisp white lab coat had a military look to it with the finely detailed starched lines running down the sleeves. He checked his lapel to assure that his I.D. was in place. In his hand he carried a manila envelope full of forms that would be needed for the family’s signature, if they would decide to donate the usable organs for transplantation. He slowed as he came upon the social worker and introduced himself, "Hi! My name is Mark Crawford, I’m with C.O.R.E." He offered her his hand.


"Alexia," she shook his hand. "I’m the social worker. Nice to meet you, Mr. Crawford." She smiled at him to conceal the eerie feeling she always got when meeting with anyone from the organ recovery team. It always made her think she was dealing with someone out of a Frankenstein novel, the grave robbers to be truthful. Alexia never gave these people her full name, nor would she let them call her by the name that her friends did, it was her mechanism of distancing herself from them.


He smiled courteously at her as his eyes strayed over to the door of the Family Room. "Have the doctors spoken to them yet?" His head motioned toward the door, his eyes eager for her answer.


"No, that’s who I’m waiting on now." Her face tensed a little, "Dr. Trivoli was tied up in a case for a while. She should be here any minute."


He looked at her with a puzzled face. "Trivoli, she must be new. I don’t recognize her name."


Alex was pleased that her friend Danni’s roommate was not one who would make Crawford’s presence necessary that often. For that, she was thankful. "No, actually she’s been here since July. She’s one of our Trauma Fellows."


"She must be pretty good or just lucky to be on when the traumas are not that bad," he joked.


"I think that I would bet on good, Mr. Crawford." The voice was confident as Rob Kreger walked over to them from the Neuro-ICU. "If I were you, I’d enjoy this meeting with her today."


"And why is that?" Crawford demanded.


"I don’t believe you will be seeing a lot of her in the future. That’s why." Rob let his face show a smug appearance. Hearing the elevator announcing it’s arrival to the floor, he gazed over to the opening doors, "Here she is now."


The tall, stalwart figure appeared to have an aura around her as the bright fluorescent lighting of the elevator contrasted to that of the muted mood lighting of the hallway as she stood in the doorway. Her facial features remained undistinguishable until the doors closed behind her, allowing the dim lighting to give her well-defined features a softening appearance. The power and grace of her moves as she walked down the hall towards them brought to mind the stalking qualities of a panther. If she had meant to impress anyone, she was indeed fulfilling that wish.


Rob and Alex both watched as the surgeon cast a spell over Mark Crawford. They saw his look go from one of utter annoyance with her luck, to that of disbelief at her ability to bring him to his knees. Glistening beads of perspiration were gathering across his forehead the closer to him that she came. His lower lip was noticeably quivering, as his mouth became agape. The man’s eyes seemed to be the only things moving on him with any purpose at all as they wandered up and down her long body. Yes, he was definitely hers for the asking.


Alex’s voice broke the solemn exchange of stares as she introduced the two to each other. "Dr. Trivoli, this is Mark Crawford from the Organ Recovery Team," she paused momentarily. "Mr. Crawford, this is Trauma Fellow Garrett Trivoli."


Garrett eyed the lecherous man as she drew her hand out of the pocket of her lab coat. "Mr. Crawford," she greeted him, offering her hand.


His hand nervously smoothed the buttons of his lab jacket. Gulping audibly he took her hand in his, "The pleasure is definitely all mine." Bringing her hand towards his mouth he gingerly placed a kiss on the back of it as he held her fingers in his.


The surgeon’s eyebrow edged upward into her hairline as her eyes narrowed. If looks could indeed kill, the cold steel color of her eyes would have penetrated his heart, and this man in front of her would be the next trauma page going off on her beeper. She tugged at her hand, not wanting him to think that she was actually enjoying his attempt at flirting with her.