Disclaimer: All recognisable material in this story is the property of all those who are to do with ER, not myself, and no profit is made from their use here.

Author's Note: Thought it was a while since I had written something a little smutty, and I know how much you love it, so… This is on the angsty side, but I hope you enjoy it (you have to wait for the second chapter for the smut, and the time that takes me to finish writing and post is, naturally, directly proportionate the number of reviews I receive!) Randomly, the idea for this came from a National Geographic article. Don't ask, the muses are weird creatures. This is set as if Michael didn't die, but Neela didn't move out from the apartment with Ray either.

Spoilers: None, another AU

Rating: Oh, definitely M in the second chapter.

The Wedding Gift

Ray was sitting in the table in the lounge, making the most of the quiet spell by having a cup of coffee and catching up on some of his charts that he had fallen behind on. There was a Cubs game on the TV in the corner, which he was half paying attention to, but he had lost track of the score and had lost interest. He heard the door open, but didn't bother to turn around to see who it was.

Then he felt a pair of hands close over his eyes.

He reached up to grab at his captor, and felt his fingers close around slender wrists and soft skin. He struggled a little, for fun, but smiled as he did so.

'Guess who?' a voice whispered in his ear, hot breath tickling his skin.

'Umm… well, I'm guessing you're a female…' he began.

'You're a bright one, you.'

'Oh, and you're sarcastic, so you must be British…'

'You've lived with me for how long, and you've only just realised that?'

Eventually, she let go of him and made her way around the table to perch on the chair next to him. She leaned over his arm to read the chart he was writing on. 'A Viagra overdose? You have to be kidding me.'

Ray chuckled. 'Nope, straight up.'

'I'm sure he was,' Neela joked.

Ray laughed at her. 'You're in a very happy mood,' he said in a mock accusatory tone. She was practically bouncing, which amused him greatly. It was so unlike her mood of the last few months, while Michael had been away in Iraq, and it was nice to see her looking so happy again. She was simply glowing; he didn't think he'd ever seen her this happy or excited, come to think of it.

'Of course I am. I can't believe Michael's going to be home tonight. The last four months have gone so slowly.'

Ray smiled at her sympathetically. He knew how hard she'd found it to be parted from her husband so early in their marriage, but Ray had done everything he could to make it easier for her. Since the band had thrown him out and moved to California, he'd gone out less, and brought the party back home even more rarely, trying to be the friend he knew she needed.

He'd bought her takeaways and beer, and sat up with her late into the night, watching movies and doing his very best to take her mind off her abandonment. Now though, Gallant was home tonight, and he was feeling distinctly superfluous. He hadn't realised until now just how much he enjoyed spending the time with her, and was sort of sorry that it was coming to an end.

If Michael was back for good this time, the chances were he would want to finish his residency somewhere, and there were no guarantees that his posting would be in Chicago. Ray wasn't quite sure how he felt at the prospect of Neela leaving; it wasn't something he really wanted to contemplate. If she went, he was going to miss her. They had spent a lot of time together recently, and he had come to think of her as his best friend, particularly since Brett and the guys had taken off. There were times, when her hair was all wild and wavy, and her eyes were shining in outrage at something he had said, that he thought he might feel something more than that for her, but that was something else he'd pushed to the back of his mind.

'I know,' he said. 'But it's over now. You'll have him back in a few hours.'

'Don't I know it.' Her eyes were gleaming with life, and he wondered what it would be like to feel that amazingly strongly about someone, that your entire life could just be worthwhile again simply by their presence.

She stood up then, and stepped over to her locker. He watched her peel her lab coat off and hang it up, then stowed her stethoscope away. She felt his eyes on her, and turned briefly to throw him a smile over her shoulder as she put on her coat and pulled her bag out, putting it over her shoulder.

'Are you going? I didn't think you were off until four.'

'I'm not, but I talked Abby into coming in early and taking the last part of my shift. I want to start getting ready for tonight.'

Ray looked at her, momentarily confused. 'I didn't think Michael was getting back until seven.'

'He isn't,' Neela replied, as if that somehow answered the question.

'Then why on earth do you need,' he paused to consult his watch, 'six hours to get ready?' He was staring at her incredulously. He would never understand why it took women so damn long to get ready, even ones like Neela who weren't exactly given over to preening and vanity. Not that she needed to of course, she was beautiful eight days a week.

She grinned at him, a twinkle in her eye. 'Ah, that's something for Michael to know, and you never to find out.'

On that note, she hurried out of the door, leaving Ray staring after her. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy that whatever it was that she was planning, it was her husband, and not himself, that was going to get to enjoy it.

Neela didn't stop when she left the hospital, but rushed straight up the steps to the station, and caught the El to an obscure street on the other side of the city. She had an appointment and she was already running late. It had taken her ages to find this place, hours of thumbing through phone books and searching the internet. In the end, her mother had told her about it, they had had a customer in the restaurant that had a cousin who lived in Chicago who had got married last year, and she had used them.

Neela tried not to be put off when she peered in the window, and saw a fairly dark room inside, through the thick layer of dust that was slicked on the inside of the glass. Taking a breath, she turned the handle, and stepped inside. A little bell tinkled over the door as she opened it.

'Hello?' she called out tentatively. 'Is anyone here?'

After a short silence, she heard stirrings coming from behind a curtain at the back of the room and, at length, an elderly Indian woman came into view.

'Mrs Ranjani?' Neela asked.

'Yes, you must be Neela Rasgotra. Very pleased to meet you.' Neela smiled in response. She had been to India several times when she was growing up to visit family, and she had met some real relics while she was there, but she swore the woman standing, or hunching, before her now was the oldest person she had ever seen. Reputedly, however, she was the best henna tattoo artist in the entire city.

A rebellious, well hidden part of Neela, the same part that had wanted to play rock music as a teenager rather than the viola, had always had a hidden desire to get a tattoo – Ray's utterly fascinated her – but she had never been brave enough to do something so lasting, so permanent, to her body. As a consolation though, she had always promised herself that, should she ever get married, she would get a traditional Indian henna tattoo done for her wedding day. Of course, her wedding day hadn't turned out quite how she expected it to, and she had barely had the time to find a sari, let alone to sit on a couch for several hours while she had her body painted.

Now though, Michael was coming home, this time hopefully for good, and she was determined to give him the wedding gift she had planned to, if a little belatedly.

'Come through to the back room Neela, and I will make you a cup of tea.' Neela didn't have the courage to ask for coffee. If this woman was anything like her elderly relatives, she was about to get served a steaming cup of strong Darjeeling, no milk or sugar.

A couple of minutes later, and she was sitting in the room behind the curtain, sipping at the burning hot liquid. 'Now Neela, I know we spoke on the telephone, but remind me again – an old lady's mind tends to wander my dear – what was it that you wanted me to do?'

'I, umm… my husband has been away for a long time, and he's coming home tonight. I wanted to surprise him, so I thought I would get a henna tattoo. I was hoping for a whole body one I think, not just hands and feet.'

Neela looked up nervously, and Mrs Rajani smiled at her. 'All right my dear. Now, are there any particular designs you want incorporated?'

'Oh no, whatever you think is best. My husband isn't Indian, so anything very traditional might be lost on him, well, it might be a bit lost on me too, but I trust you. Anything as long as it's beautiful, and I'm sure it will be.'

'You are a very beautiful girl Neela. I can promise you that what I do will be beautiful also. Now, when you have drunk your tea –' Neela started to gulp at it, and Mrs Rajani tutted disapprovingly. 'No, no, there is no hurry. Darjeeling is there to be enjoyed, not gulped down like a glass of coca cola. Now, when you have drunk it, if you would take your clothes off, and put this robe on, and I will begin my work.'

'Right, okay. Yes,' Neela muttered. She couldn't believe how nervous she was. It wasn't as if it was going to hurt or anything like that. The room was cold, so the worst that could happen was that she would get a little chilly. She'd just never done anything so… adventurous before. Michael was going to get the surprise of his life. She hoped he would enjoy it.

Some hours later, and the woman had finally finished. She helped Neela up off the couch she had been lying on, and turned her towards a full length mirror. 'There, do you like what you see?' Mrs Rajani asked her.

Neela blushed a little. She was still wearing her panties, but nothing else, and she was fascinated by the way the dark lines swirled and danced over her skin. She couldn't wait to see Michael's face. 'Yes Mrs Rajani, thank you, I…'

'It is my pleasure Neela. I may be old now, but I still enjoy my artwork. And I am sure your husband will be very, very happy. Now, you get yourself dressed.'

She did as she was told, then reached into her purse, handing over the money that they had agreed on. 'Thank you again, Mrs Rajani.'

The woman waved away her words. 'Off you go, girl. Away to your husband.'

Neela smiled at her one last time, and left the shop, wrapped up against the cold winter wind, whistling in from the north off the lake. She put her wallet back in her bag, and reached in to turn her phone back on, just in case someone had been trying to get hold of her. She felt excitement coursing through her veins at the thought of what was to come. Not only did she get to see Michael again, after so long, but also she got to share this with him. She felt alive, she felt… She didn't know how to describe it. It was just incredible.

She almost ran down the street in her eagerness. She would be pushed for time to get back to the apartment and ready for Michael's arrival, but she should still have time. The El ride seemed to take forever, although several glances at her watch told her that she was still okay for time. When it was her stop, she jumped out, and hurried back to the apartment. She had about half an hour to get herself ready.

She quickly shed all the clothes she had been wearing, replacing them with her bathrobe for the meantime. After having gone into the bathroom to wash her hair quickly over the sink to get rid of the omnipresent hospital smell, she took a seat in front of her mirror, and was about to start putting some makeup on when she heard her cellphone start beeping in her bag, and, pausing, she rummaged inside it to draw it out.

A voicemail message was flashing on the screen. What with being in the hospital since six o'clock this morning, then having turned it off while she was with Mrs Rajani, she had been out of reception for most of the day, so she supposed it could have been left at any time, and just come through now. Intrigued as to who it could be, she pressed the button and listened.

And as she heard the voice on the other end of the line, she felt the happiness leak from her body and her face crumpled in heartbroken disappointment.