DISCLAIMER: Mercy and its characters are the property of NBC. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A new show on the verge of cancellation. Of course I love it and must write copious amounts of femslash for it. I'm stupid that way
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To Geekgrrl.lurking[at]gmail.com
Scotch, On The Rocks
She thought she could handle it. That's just what you did, right? You react and hope like hell you don't get hit with the fallout. And if you do, you suck it up and deal with it. Iraq taught her that, if nothing else.
Veronica Agnes Flanagan Callahan did not have a problem. At least, nothing a little time, a good screw and a couple stiff drinks couldn't solve anyway, right? Besides she was a nurse, she was the one who helped people, saved people. She didn't need saving.
Veronica ran a hand through her hair and sighed. If she could just get a decent night sleep, that would do wonders. Images from her nightmares flashed before her eyes, desert atrocities she could never forget, morphing into Mercy Hospital, the gun going off in her hands as yet another target falls in a heap at her feet, dead. Her father's sad voice coming back to her in a wave over top. 'I don't know how to help you sweetheart '
Veronica spun the scotch in her half empty glass, the ice clinking inside. She closed her eyes and took another drink, the liquid burning down her throat and hitting her stomach with familiar heat. Taking the memories away with it. Almost.
A smiling blonde slid onto the barstool beside her, her hair pulled back, crisp white shirt and caring eyes. She nodded and turned to the hovering bartender, ordering her drink and then turning back to stare at her again.
Veronica smirked into her glass before turning to look at the attractive woman watching her closely. It had been a while since a good looking woman had so thoroughly checked her out.
Staff Sergeant Amber-Lee Weber. From Bravo Company, on weekend leave in Afghanistan. Veronica had almost forgotten Amber-Lee beating her at pool in that grungy bar the off duty troops like to hang out in, her very sexy smile taking the sting out of the defeat. Seductive whispers tickling her ear, sure hands roaming her body, her name moaned from whiskey flavoured lips as she came for the third time. Dead three weeks later from a suicide bomber.
Veronica took another drink of her scotch and sighed. The blonde had the same colour eyes as Amber-Lee. She wondered what her lips tasted like and shivered.
This had been a mistake. She should just leave now before the damn therapist arrived.
A business card slid across the bar top.
"It's very nice to meet you, Veronica." Dr. Denise Cabe smiled warmly at her. "What are you drinking?"
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