The Good Ones Go

It’s four in the afternoon in Baltimore, and Chelsea and Charles are finally settling into their hotel room. Charles sits on the pale blue comforter of his double bed watching Chelsea unpack her small black duffle bag on her own mattress. The hidden gown inside a thick white garment bag seems to take up most of the space, and she takes a few quick steps over to the small closet by the door to hang it up.

“I didn't realize you'd be wearing a ball gown,” Charles teases with a smirk on his face.

Chelsea looks over at him with a frown. His stubble has grown back in, and his usually slicked back hair falls toward the side of his face in a sexy 'I just woke up' kind of way. Admittedly, he was too tired this morning to bother with it. Besides, he knew he'd have to spend time getting ready for the event tonight and figured getting pretty for the flight isn't worth it. He'd been kind enough to offer Chelsea his bed last night, but she insisted on the couch, and she has to admit it's more comfortable than any of those on-call suites at Cedars-Sinai. When he woke her up with a cup of coffee this morning she was grateful, and she thought for a moment about whether she made the right decision in telling him this could go nowhere because she found herself thinking that wouldn’t mind waking up to him everyday.

“Do you think it’s too much?” She's a little anxious about going, and she doesn't want to stand out. His ball gown comment has her feeling nervous because all she wants is to blend into the crowd without drawing any attention.

“Chelsea, come on, I was kidding. I haven't even seen the dress. Besides we’re wining and dining millionaires, what could possibly be too much? I don't even think you can afford to go over the top now that I've seen where you really live,” he can't help himself but to tease her. The annoyed look she gives him makes him laugh out loud, and he stands to walk over and place his hands on her shoulders, squeezing in attempt to get her to lighten up.

"I'm nervous enough about this. You don't have to give me a hard time. You're supposed to be here to support me," she rolls her eyes at him before walking back to her bag, annoyed.

Charles lets out a sigh. "I only met you three months ago, and I've already gone across the country for you. I think that’s pretty supportive," even though she can't see it, the smirk on his face is evident in his voice as he watches her move through out the room.

"You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?" She asks with a hesitant smile, crossing her arms in front of her modest chest as she turns her neck just enough to make eye contact.

"Nope," Charles pops his 'p' as he speaks, adding, "you owe me one now." The smile lingers on his face as he stands to get ready.

"I'm sure you'll be eager to cash it in," she teases as she follows him into the bathroom.

The pair stand quietly in front of the double vanity, and as Charles shaves, Chelsea does her makeup. Her eyes veer toward his side of the mirror, and when she catches a glimpse of him flashbacks of Adam flood her mind at the familiar routine. They spent so long playing house that it doesn't seem like she'll ever be able to keep thoughts of him out of her mind when she's moved on to playing house with someone new. A subconscious frown grows on her face, and she tells herself that she'll deal with Adam later. She watches as Charlie finishes up, taking a moment to slick back his hair. Chelsea pulls herself out of her daydream to apply some moisturizer to her natural waves before he steals her attention again.

"You can take the bathroom. I'll change out there," Charles tells her as he walks out without giving her a chance to respond. Moments later he returns with her garment bag in hand, which he hangs behind the door before shutting it. Chelsea can't help but smile at his kindness, and she finds herself rethinking her decision again. She reaches over to unzip the bag, taking a moment to glance over the dress before taking her airplane clothes off. Once she's in the gown, she gives herself a once over in the mirror, reaching to pull a strand of loose her back into place. Satisfied, she opens the door and walks back into the room. Her shy eyes land on Charlie, who's standing next to the navy blue arm chair in the corner of the room in a simple black tux. A black bow tie is nestled underneath his neck, and she can feel the butterflies flooding her belly as she looks into his striking blue eyes.

"Good God," he gasps as his gaze traverses her figure. "You should have told me to say a prayer before you put that on because I'm gonna need all the Lord's willpower tonight," his southern drawl is heavy as he sighs his words. His eyes are glued to her physique, and he can only hope that he's not drooling because he sure feels like a fool.

Chelsea lets out a chuckle at his reaction. "You're a little dramatic," she bats her eyes subconsciously before averting her gaze nervously. When he says nothing, she looks back up to find him still staring, and she can feel her cheeks getting warm. She feels like a little girl again. She can remember the way Colson's jaw hung open when he picked her up for prom, and that same giddiness she felt then, she feels now.

Charles gulps as he takes in Chelsea's appearance. The dress itself is awing: sheer and bedazzled - expensive - but seeing her in it is making him think the unholiest of things, and he can't help but to lick his lips at his own thoughts triggered by the sight of her.

"Charles?" Her voice calls out. She's concerned that he's offended because he hasn't said anything. Is it too much skin? An unflattering color? She didn't bring a back up outfit, and if he thinks she looks cheap, she's in trouble. She's feeling self-conscious under his gaze, and she shifts uncomfortably in attempt to cover herself up with her arms.

"Sorry," he clears his throat, forcing himself to pry his eyes off of her body and bring them up to her face. "I just didn't expect you to look so," he doesn't even know what to say because he's struggling to breath a little. She has unknowingly left him dumbstruck, and he smooths his sleeves out timidly, allowing his eyes to dart to his feet.

"So what?" She raises a brow as she reminds herself to breath. He looks so handsome, and if he thinks she looks ridiculous she'll be so embarrassed.

Charles looks back up with a gulp. "Beautiful," he sighs, staring into her eyes and feeling himself melt. He doesn't quite understand what it is, but there's something about this woman that just makes him want more.

"Well, I didn't think I'd leave you speechless," she jokes, trying to make sure the interaction doesn't get awkward. She's flattered, and the way he's acting brings her mind back to good times. He reminds her so much of Richard…

"Trust me, when I call in my 'you owe me one,' I'll be sure to return the favor," he winks at her with a grin plastered on his clean shaven face. He's sure his expression is devilish, but he can't help except to think of her in the most sinful ways possible.

Chelsea lets out another chuckle before reaching to slip on her shoes. "Are you ready?" She asks, looking up at him through her eyelashes as she digs through her duffle for her purse. When he nods she turns to follow him out of the door, glad that he's here to keep her from chickening out.

Chelsea sits in the passengers seat for the next ten minutes fiddling with her thumbs. She's in deep thought so the ride is silent because Charlie dare not interrupt her with that frown across her face. It's been half a year since she's stepped foot in John Hopkins. More importantly, it's been a year since she's seen Adam, and she has no idea how he'll handle himself when he sees her tonight.

"You okay?" the bass in Charles' voice makes her body vibrate as it pulls her out of her thoughts.

Chelsea looks over to notice that they've arrived, and he's put the car in park already. She takes a deep breath, hesitantly pulling her seatbelt off.

"Chelsea, look, if you wanna bail I won't blame you," he states, placing a large warm hand on her thigh.

Chelsea can feel his touch burning her bare thigh where her dress is slit, and she has to lick her lips because they're so dry. God, she's nervous. "Hey, I dragged you all the way out here. At the very least you can get a couple free drinks out of it," she tries to lighten the mood, reaching up to play with her hair nervously.

"Always trying to find the bright side of things, huh?" Charles teases as he pulls the keys out of the ignition. "Let's go. I'm curious to see if this guy was even worth your time," he says, turning around to open his door.

Chelsea stares after him for a moment, a smile lingering on her face. When she sees his eyes peer through the window she gets out of the car herself, leading the way to the reception. When they walk in no one seems to notice, and Chelsea is grateful for it. She grabs a couple glasses of champagne from the waiter and wastes absolutely no time downing hers as she hands the other to her date.

Charles raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip. "Slow down there, cow girl. We barely walked in. You have to be able to speak in complete sentences if you wanna make any money tonight," he teases with a smirk.

Chelsea gives him a nudge with her arm as she grabs herself another glass. It takes a few minutes for anyone to recognize her, but it's not long before she hears, "Dr. Descarte!" She turns around to see Frederico walking her way, and she can't help but smile at him.

Rico reaches over to give her a warm hug. With all the trouble Chelsea gave him, he has to admit that he's missed her. His dark eyes flutter over to the tall man next to her, who he's surprised to see has his arm around her waist. He knew Chelsea was getting a divorce, but he didn’t realize she had moved on so quickly.

"See, I'm not the only one who calls you that," Charles teases as he gives the man a once over.

"Shut up," she whispers before turning her attention to her old coworker. "Rico, this is Charles. He's here to be my buffer," she laughs as she introduces him.

"Nice to meet you," Rico extends a hand before returning his gaze back to Chelsea. "You look fucking stunning, and that's not the liquor talking," he's very blunt as he gives her a wink. He watches Chelsea roll her eyes and adds, "if you wanna make Adam jealous, that dress will definitely do the trick."

"I'm not here to make him jealous. I'm here to get my damn divorce papers," she mutters under her breath before taking a sip.

"Have you seen Goltsiker yet?" Rico asks as he grabs a glass of his own, really not wanting to get into anything deep right now.

"No, and thank god because he'll probably tell me he expects me at work tomorrow," she laughs, feeling the liquor hit her head already. They should have stopped to get some dinner since they arrived late. She feels Charles shift next to her, and she looks up to make sure he's not uncomfortable.

"Thanks for coming by the way. Use those powers of seduction tonight. We need every penny," Rico says before planting a kiss on her cheek and walking away.

She rolls her eyes again before turning to look at Charlie. "You okay? You're not uncomfortable are you?" His arm is still nestled around her waist, pulling her closer so he can hear as she shouts toward him over the commotion.

"Yea, I'm fine. I think I spotted our target," he leans down to say into her ear, his eyes fluttering over the body of a rather angry looking man. When he pulls back to look at her, Chelsea's face is blank, and he wishes that he could take her back to the hotel, but she insists that she wants to be here.

Chelsea turns back around in Charlie's grasp, and her eyes settle on Adam standing only a couple tables away. He looks handsome in his tux, and Chelsea can feel the butterflies in her belly begin to flutter. They're not the same butterflies she used to have when she looked at him, they’re the kind that dread being spoken to. She can hear herself gulp, but she summons the courage to take a few steps over, praying that Rico will stay put over there long enough to keep things from being too awkward.

"Adam," it leaves Chelsea's mouth breathlessly as she stares over at him.

Adam is speechless. He didn't think Chelsea would be here - she didn’t have any business being there - and he definitely didn't think she'd show up with another man on her arm. He's tall, built, handsome. He seems like Chelsea's type, but Adam can't stand the fact that he's got his arm wrapped around her like he owns her. Then again, he probably would too if she showed up with him in that dress. God, she looks amazing.

Rico clears his throat from the doctor's side before saying, "that's her date, Charles." He draws out the name as he speaks, giving Adam a small nudge.

"You look good, Chels," he manages to say before throwing the rest of the whiskey in his glass back.

When Chelsea doesn't say anything, Charles takes it upon himself to extend a hand saying, "nice to meet you, Adam."

Adam looks down at his hand bitterly. He reaches over to shake it with a firm grip, "Charles, right?" The few syllables he utters reek of jealously.

"That's what the man said," he retorts, a little irritated by Adam's sour attitude. Charlie would call him out, but this is Chelsea's night, and he's her sidekick.

"Let me guess, neurosurgeon?" Adam asks with a raised brow. Chelsea brought him here to intimidate him, he's sure. She had to have gone with someone on top of the food chain.

Chelsea clears her throat awkwardly, but Charles squeezes her waist gently to let her know he has it under control. "No. I'm actually a nurse," he says proudly. He's not ashamed of that, and he's going to let Adam know.

"A nurse, huh?" Adam smirks suddenly feeling more confident.

Since when did he become a smug asshole? Chelsea wonders. She shifts uncomfortably, but there goes Charles again consoling her by reaching up to rub her back. She can almost feel him telling her it's okay with the simple touch, and she can't help but smile and lean into him.

"Yea, is that an issue? Or do you usually just judge your self worth by the jobs those in your company keep?" Charles replies with a smile on his lips.

Adam can't help but let out a laugh. He turns around as a waiter passes by to grab himself another glass of something. It doesn't matter what as long as it's liquor.

"So where are you at now?" Rico asks trying to redirect the awkward conversation.

"Cedars-Sinai," Chelsea responds, taking another sip of her champagne. She's glad for the diversion, and she lets him know it with the smallest smile.

"Where's that?" Rico furrows his brows as he glances over at Adam to see if he knows.

"LA," she says flatly, earning herself a look of shock from her ex-coworker.

"So what? You followed your sleaze bag of an ex to one of the few places there's naked chicks all year round, and he cheated again? Then this guy was there to nurse your broken heart?" Adam's tone is as bitter as tonic, and Chelsea feels disgusted by his words.

Charles furrows his brows, looking down at her. He sees her gaze fall, and he can't help but feel sad for her. She doesn't deserve to be put down like that.

"Oh, did you not tell your new boy toy about that?" Adam asks with a grin plastered on his face. He feels proud knowing he's hurt her, even if it's a fraction of the way she's hurt him.

"Listen man, we all came here for a good time, so if you got nothing nice to say to Chelsea, then I suggest you waltz on over somewhere else. I'm not looking for any trouble, but if you start it, you can be sure I'll finish it," his deep southern accent is slathered over every word as he speaks, the way it always is when he's incredibly serious.

"Classy," Adam retorts for lack of a better comeback.

"Look, Adam. I'm not here to fight with you. I didn't come to make small talk. I want my divorce papers signed," Chelsea says as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. She's done beating around the bush. If Adam won't play nice, then why should she?

Adam gulps, and he knows she can see it. She's got him right where she wants him, because he can't bring himself to even look at those papers.

“So are you gonna man up and give the lady her damn papers?” Charlie's thick voice is laced with an irritation Chelsea has yet to hear from him, and she finds herself having to hold a gasp back as she bites down on her lip.

“Awkward,” Rico draws out before taking his champagne glass and walking away. Chelsea watches him go and let's out a frustrated sigh.

“I'm sorry, Adam. I know this is inappropriate. We can talk later,” Chelsea says before grabbing her purse and walking away. She can hear Charlie's heavy footsteps behind her, but her feet still move briskly to carry her outside. The cool Baltimore evening air hits her, and she hasn't realized how much she's missed it until she takes a deep breath. An anxious hand brings a 100 to her lips, and she lights it eagerly as she listens to Charles speak.

“What in God's name are you apologizing to him for? If I ever met a rude and selfish man in my life it's him,” the frustration in his tone is evident, he's sure, and suddenly that cigarette between her pouty lips looks good even to him.

“Fuck, Charles. He’s a good man. He doesn't deserve this,” she sighs, breathing in the comforting poison.

“You've gotta be kidding me,” he says in disbelief. His hands are on his hips before the right reaches up to undo the jacket of his tux, suddenly feeling hot.

“I'm not, so lay off,” she spits back irritably, and when the words leave her mouth she looks up in shock at her own response. His dazzling blue eyes are boring into her like a fucking drill, and she feels horrible for giving him any attitude.

“Alright, Chelsea Lisle,” he sighs as he glances to his feet, unable to hold the gaze that's cutting him like razors.

Chelsea feels wrong. He's using her name like she's in trouble, and she's ashamed for dragging him out here to defend her but giving him a hard time when he does just that. “Charlie…” the name leaves her smoky lips in a plead.

“If we're done here,” he pauses to look back up at her, “I’d like to get some rest.”

Chelsea swallows hard when the ocean of his eyes envelopes her. She feels like she's drowning as she looks at him, and she can't help but feel her skin tingle because there is a sensation that, though he's upset, his eyes are wrapping her up in a hug. She can see he's uncomfortable because he looks away again, and she takes another puff before tossing the rest on the ground and leading the way to their rented Camry.

The ten minute drive feels like an eternity, but when they're parked in front of the hotel Chelsea feels like she can finally breath. The hospital felt suffocating, and just being this far away is liberating her.

"Look, Chelsea, I'm sorry if I was out of line, but I couldn’t sit there and let him say those things to you," the twang is lighter now, but she can catch that he's genuine because the breathes he takes are heavy, and she can hear him stagger out every exhale.

Something about his tone hypnotizes her, and she allows herself to reach a slender hand over and place it on his. "No, Charles, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have raised my voice. I'm sorry for getting you involved in this in the first place. You've only just met me, and I've already caused so much drama." She regrets asking him to come. She hates the fact that she can't do this alone, that she can't seem to do anything alone.

"What he said about your ex, that guy you're living with," it sounds like a question when he says it, and he wants to continue, to ask her if it's true, to ask her why she's subjecting herself to that kind of treatment, but he's scared.

Chelsea's sigh weighs a ton as it seeps from her lungs, and she looks down at her hands when she says, "look, it's complicated. I'm complicated." What would he think of her if he knew the truth?

"Well, the way I see it we've got nothing but time," he says, giving the hand still lingering on his a squeeze. He waits a few moments, but when she says nothing he reaches up to pull the keys out of the ignition. A muttered, "come on," leaves his lips before he opens the car door to head upstairs. The elevator ride is silent, like death, and Charles can feel himself getting warm at the sight of Chelsea's bare leg peering from under that slit. He's relieved at the opening doors and makes a bee line for their room as soon as there's enough space for him to squeeze through.

Charles hangs his blazer up and undoes his tie along with the first few buttons of his shirt. He lets his body fall onto his double bed with a small sigh. When the weight on the mattress shifts, he looks over to find Chelsea next to him.

"Richard was my life," he hears her admit as if she's testifying. There is a certain pain in her voice that he can't put his finger on, but at the sight of her lips moving he just wants to kiss it all away. She pulls him back out of his thoughts. "I've been with him since I can remember, you know. Two poor kids with nothing but each other," she says to him, and the look of nostalgia on her fades reads like an open book. He watches her gaze drift across the room as she continues, "he just couldn't stop getting in to trouble or messing around, and I stuck with him. Then he slept with Jess, who I thought was my best friend. I left him." She seems solemn now, a little regretful. "On our wedding day he showed up begging me not to marry Adam, and on our honeymoon Adam's best man, my best friend, showed up to tell me Adam was cheating too." Charles watches intently, hanging on to every word as if he'd find some way to save her from her own story.

"I guess our marriage started off on the wrong foot. I wasn't over Richard. Adam wasn't cheating. He'd bought us my dream house, but I was just so fucked up I believed it the second it hit my ears," Chelsea remembers every second as if it's a movie flashing before her eyes. "Things never got back to normal because soon after Richard showed up asking me to treat his daughter who, turns out, had Ewing's Sarcoma," she pauses to finally look up at Charlie's face, avoiding his eyes. "I couldn't say no, and I don’t think Adam ever forgave me for that, even when I passed the case on," this is her first time saying it out loud, and now it makes sense why their relationship burst into flames like a igniting chemical fire.

"Even when all that seemed to clear up, there were other things. His best man kissed me one night, told me he loved me." Charles gulps at the words as if they scare him because he's never heard so much remorse in one sentence. "Then he up and left without a word, and when he came back it was with another woman," he can almost see her struggling to breath, but the cadence of her speech is so smooth. "Adam told me to choose. He'd been patient with me for so long, and I knew if I was thinking about leaving him, that the best thing was to just do it because he deserved better. So I brought him the divorce papers, and I few months later I came here with Richard," Charles is upset with himself when he hears those words. He should’ve known she was off limits.

Chelsea can see him get uncomfortable from her peripheral, and she turns to add, "we didn't come to start a new life together if that's what you're thinking. I needed to run, and he wanted to help in ways he never did before. He's my support system." When she hears herself say it out loud she almost laughs. It's a lie. She wanted to run with Richard because she wanted Richard, and even now when she looks into Charlie's bright blue eyes she can see Cole's staring back at her as sharp as a sapphire. Yet here, she doesn't feel small, she feels on top of the world because these eyes are soothing, empathetic.

"I'm sorry for what you've been through, Chels," his words are full of regret for her. He can't imagine the emotional turmoil she's dealt with, or what kind of toll it takes on her body, but goddamn he wishes he can wrap her up and keep it all away. The way her hazel eyes seem to sink as they look at him, it's as if she wants him to reach out and pull her back ashore, to keep her from drowning. "I know I haven't known you long, but goddamn if you aren't the most selfless, patient, and kindest person I know," the words seem to have a mind of their own as they leave him, and he can see her peering up as if she'd ready to grab the life jacket. "There's never been a moment that you've been malicious, egotistical, or ignorant. You're self awareness is the first step to healing, and even when you can't, you do what you can to help everyone around you. Chelsea, I may not know you as long any one in that tragic story of yours, but I've seen so many sides of you, and they make me want to see more not less," he can feel his heart begin to race as he opens up to her.

Chelsea seems to have forgotten how to breath. Those fucking blue eyes. Within seconds her lips are on his, and she's igniting with the way they move against each other - needy yet kind. She hears him let out a soft moan, and she doesn't waste a second straddling him.

Charles is still sitting, and with Chelsea settled firmly on his lap, he can't help but reach with his hands to grab a hold of her waist. Her hand is running through his hair, the other one tickling the skin of his neck, and Charles can't seem to hold it together because suddenly he's standing, and his hands are under her thighs to keep her up in the air.

Chelsea breaks the kiss at the abrupt movement, and Charlie's sad eyes fault her for it. She listens to his rapid breaths, his chest is moving visibly, and all she can think about is how she wants him out of his clothes. She places her palms against his chest to push away, and Charlie takes the hint and puts her down, but to his surprise she doesn't leave.

He watches her as she wraps her arms around him again, and the way her eyes trace over his body is making him hot. "Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?" He whispers into the warm air building around them. He watches the blush grow on her face, evident even in the dim lighting, and he can't help but smile as his lips creep lower, leaving a trail of soft, wet kisses down her neck. He can feel her shiver under his touch, and it's so inviting that he can't help but reach around to seamlessly pull the zipper of her dress down.

Chelsea gasps at the feel of her gown slipping off her body as swiftly as Charles picks her up. His hands are gripping her thighs like a vice, and she moans involuntarily at the feeling that makes her drip in anticipation. His lips are connected to hers, and she's working at the buttons of his shirt until she frees his body, and her fingers are tugging at the undershirt, desperately trying to feel his skin against her hands.

Charles pulls back. His weight rests on his knees, and his eyes never leave her face as he undresses himself, but as quick as he can is still too slow because he's fucking dying to touch her again. She's licking her lips under him, and his eyes traverse the lace of her bra as he imagines her bare breasts pressed up against him.

Chelsea forgets how to breath under his cool blue gaze. She feels like she's in high school again as she stares up at him. His eyes remind her so much of Colson that it scares her, and she wants him to devour her, but that conscience knocking at the door in the back of her mind reveals an image of Travis that makes her gulp. Madie's smug voice rings through her ears, and she closes her eyes for a moment trying to push it all out of her head, but when she feels Charlie's weight shift on top of her, she opens them to find herself melting into that blue oasis that seems to be the only thing soothing the fire in her soul.

Charles' large hands trail along Chelsea's hips, landing at the lace of her white underwear for only a moment before his fingers tug at the fabric. He lets out an audible groan at the sight of her, and when he reaches to feel her eagerly, he's rewarded by a yearning river. She shivers under him again, reaching up to wrap a few cold fingers along the bicep of the hand that's inside her, and it's enough to make him growl. The smirk playing on her lips has him intoxicated, and in an instant his pants are off, and he's inside her.

Chelsea's moans fill the space between them. Her nails are digging into the muscles of his back, and her hips are thrusting up against his, begging him to come back every time he leaves. Everything seems to disappear, and she's never felt more alive than in this moment under his gaze. It takes her back to who she was when those blue eyes were her daily companions, and every thrust is a second of bliss that she wants to swim in for eternity.