Disclaimer: We do not own the characters from Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman. The rights to those characters and to the show belong to the creators of the show, to CBS, The Sullivan Company and to A&E.

Walking After You

By Tweetypie and Kruemi who wrote this for Eliza

Chapter 1

The small, watery grey eyes contracted reproachfully and he gazed witheringly at the figure now hurtling through the bustling crowd, dropping apologies as he fought his way through to the counter.

"You're late," he commented disdainfully as the figure arrived within earshot, "again."

"Sorry," panted the young man, straightening up and brushing his long hair out of his eyes, "I just had to…"

"I don't wanna hear it Sully," interjected the older gentleman, throwing him an apron, "we got customers waiting."

"Yes Sir," mumbled the abashed employee, struggling out of his jacket and hastily tying the black cotton strings behind his back. Taking a deep breath he turned towards the ancient till and thumping it firmly, waited for it to drag itself to life. Finally rewarded by a dejected whirring and a faint red light, he sighed softly and turned to the nearest customer.

"Mornin' ma'am," he began, "how may I…"

"One wholemeal muffin with some butter and a large coffee, black, please."

Michaela didn't even look up while she mumbled her order. Her mobile phone rang somewhere in the depths of her bag but she simply couldn't find it. Rummaging through her things, her movements grew more urgent until she finally produced the tiny, expensive looking item. Glancing at the number, she couldn't suppress a soft sigh. "Yes?!" she fairly demanded, pressing the phone against her ear.

The still youthful face, the flawless features, suddenly grew tired, deep sorrowful lines furrowing her brow as she listened. Her reply when she finally spoke was as short as her question had been; "I'm coming."

Looking up, she searched avidly for the waiter but her gaze was instantly arrested by two deep blue seas that spilled forth from before her, engulfing her faculties until she was wholly drawn in, inexplicably fettered and unable to let go. Perhaps it was a minute, or simply a moment yet she was lost, captivated, until the slightest movement of his hand swiping at the long hair that hung about his face broke the spell. The corners of his mouth rose into an almost imperceptible smile and she felt her temper rise. She saw no cause for amusement; on the contrary, and she was in a desperate hurry. Used to being economical with her words she merely asked, "How much?" and began once again to search her bag, this time for her purse.

"Six dollars fifty."

The words escaped his mouth almost mechanically yet his attention was fixed on the bowed head, the parting that ran down it; he had never seen such hair before. It followed her head's every move like a heavy silk curtain and even in the somewhat dim light of the café, the tinges of red shone out against the burnished hazel tints. The soft curve of her jaw suggested a youthful vulnerability and the gaze that had captured him a moment ago betrayed as much. When she looked up again and offered him a note, he could tell that she wasn't used to giving away any part of herself, even a momentarily glance; she acted now as if she hadn't noticed their connection.

"Please keep the rest."

She turned as she spoke and he watched her leave, fighting her way towards the door yet with an inexplicable elegance, as graceful and swift as a hummingbird fleeing its nest. Yet as certain as he was of the silent expression that had passed between them, he knew he would never see her again; this café was no place for ladies like her. Glancing down at the counter, he suddenly became aware that she had not only left behind the note but the still steaming cup of coffee and muffin as well. It was too late to follow her though, she was gone and his boss's impatient voice brought him back into reality, "Sully, next customer's waitin'!"

……………………………………………………….

Noticing a slight dizziness shortly after noon, Michaela finally acknowledged that she needed a break. As soon as her current patient, who fortunately wasn't suffering from anything more serious than a bad catarrh had left the examination room, she informed her nurse, "Colleen, I need a rest; if anyone needs me, I'll be in my office."

The young girl breathed a sigh of relief; she had noticed the exhaustion on the young doctor's face but of course knew better than to mention it. Although Dr. Quinn had only joined them two weeks ago, every single member of the staff at the paediatric ward had quickly grown fond of her. With one exception; Dr. Cassidy had assumed his dedicated service at the Colorado Community Hospital would undoubtedly earn him the esteemed position of assistant medical director yet in his arrogance had failed to consider that a superior candidate might have been located. Unbeknownst to him, the clinic management had in fact advertised the position and when Dr. Quinn, with her irrefutable skills and several recommendations from venerated physicians at the Boston Paediatrician Hospital had approached the faculty, she had instantly been accepted as the perfect replacement for the infamous Dr. Bernard who after many months of gentle persuasion, had finally agreed to retire.

Carefully balancing the cup filled to the brim with steaming black coffee, the young nurse approached the doctor's office. Yet before her outstretched fingers could reach the knob, a large hand on her forearm stopped her.

"If you don't mind, I'll take it in to her."

With her eyes still directed on the cup in a desperate attempt not to spill the coffee that already lurched precariously against the sides, Colleen paused, immediately recognizing the owner of the deep voice and barely suppressing a giggle at his impeccable timing. Everyone besides Dr. Quinn had noticed the particular interest the gentleman next to her had demonstrated about the new director and so she just nodded and handed him the cup. It clattered threateningly against the saucer, betraying the fine tremor of his hands and with the amusement audible in her tone she advised, "Easy!" Knocking at the door, she barely waited for a response before opening it. Resisting the urge to linger, she took one last glance at the young man's crimson cheeks and bit back a chuckle before setting off down the corridor.

Entering the small room, William looked down sympathetically at the small frame dwarfed behind the desk, her expression indicating that he had obviously just roused her from deep thought. This woman had captured his mind from the moment he had first laid eyes on her. She was everything he had ever dreamed of but had never had the good fortune to meet; although unbelievably smart, she was never arrogant, always equable and her smile alone was simply breathtaking. For a few days he had been trying to screw up the courage to ask her out for the evening and he was determined to do it now.

"May I?"

He placed the coffee on the desk and gestured towards the chair across from her.

Michaela silently sighed and nodded; she had hoped for at least a few moments alone. The morning events had tugged at her nerves a little more than usual. Anthony Berg hadn't only been her first patient in Colorado Springs but her most difficult case as well. The young African boy had been referred from the haematology unit due to his continuing attacks of pain and jaundice. His anaemia was worsening and it was his latest attack that had forced her to abandon her breakfast and hurry back to the wards. The attack had been a bad one and on closer examination, his spleen had been dangerously enlarged; she had had no other option but to remove it. She knew that this was the beginning of the end and the boy was only eleven.

Pushing her dismal thoughts aside, she concentrated on her visitor. Seeing her colleague beaming at her, she was slightly irritated, "Dr. Burke, what can I do for you?"

As she looked questioningly at him and met his pale blue eyes, she was momentarily distracted again. Remembering the deep blue seas that had engulfed her at the café earlier that morning, her heart told her with a light flutter that it had registered the connection she tried so eagerly to deny. Yet the gaze before her lacked the open warmth of the young waiter and her mouth curled involuntarily as she recalled the mischievous grin that had readily brightened his glance beneath her own.

William had been watching her face intently and noticed the light change when their eyes briefly met. In a typical example of his bashful character he misinterpreted this and instantly tried to make their relationship more personal.

"For starters, I would be delighted if you called me William."

His smile broadened expectantly as he added, "May I call you Michaela?"

She looked at him in bewilderment; what made him think she wanted to address him with his first name? Luckily, she didn't have to explore that question, because at this moment, all hell broke loose outside; shouts and hurried footsteps filled the corridor, echoing down to her door. Simultaneously, her telephone started ringing. She picked up the receiver and listened wordlessly. Putting the phone down again, she glanced at the young man before her and informed him neutrally, "A school bus accident, fifteen victims all in all. The first children are already here."

No more words were needed; emergencies were a frequent occurrence in this hospital. While rushing towards the surgery rooms, Michaela gave her directions orders to Colleen who had immediately appeared by her side. The children's ward made a highly efficient team and the young doctor appreciated that they had accepted her presence so easily. She knew that everyone would be at their places so she could afford to focus her attentions entirely on her patients. Three serious casualties were already prepared for surgery and as she donned the sterile gown, the first one was moved carefully on the table. Barely listening to the operating nurse who read out the six-year-old girl's chart, Michaela put on her mask and glancing down at her little patient, she felt her heart still. For a split second she could have sworn that it was her own daughter laying there, the dark lashes standing out against the pale cheeks and a cheeky blond wisp slipping out from under the operation cap. Momentarily closing her eyes and chasing away all her trivial thoughts, she began to work.

………………………………………………………………

With a shuddering breath, she pulled the car to a halt outside the painted gates. Her gaze wandered listlessly over the groups scattered across the playground; blurs of colour with flushed faces upturned, chattering merrily as they clung onto the protective arms that surrounded them. Bitter sadness rose thick in her throat and her glance fell to her pale hands still resting upon the wheel. The crimson shot out beneath her eyes and she could feel the warmth seeping through her gloves as she fought to stem the flow, struggling against the veritable river that ran forth even as the life began to slowly slip away.

A sudden shout startled her from her thoughts and rubbing the moisture from her cheeks, she sighed softly and opened the door.

"Mommy!"

The familiar squeal drew her head up and forcing a smile she waved weakly at the blonde haired figure gesturing frantically from her usual position on the low wall. Swallowing hard, she pushed her hair out of her eyes and walked purposefully across the grounds, barely noticing the young man seated a short distance away, bouncing a giggling dark haired girl on his lap. Yet before she reached the wall, her impish daughter had slipped off and was hurtling towards the metal bars behind the bright yellow slide and in an instant was hanging upside down from the lowest one.

"Mommy, Mommy! look at me!"

"Katie!" she called, her voice cracking in horror, "get down from there this instant!"

The young girl had no intention of adhering to her mother's demands and if anything, she began to swing more determinedly, her fingers barely grazing the ground.

"Katie!" she exclaimed, starting forwards. Perhaps her concern was unwarranted yet her checked emotions were playing on her nerves and as she fought desperately to conceal her misery, the battle for control became even more intense; before she could suppress it, her anger spilled forth, darkening her eyes to icy chasms and filling her cheeks with an implacable heat.

"Hey, she's havin' fun. Don't worry, she ain't gunna fall."

The voice spoke low by her side and she turned furiously to face the speaker, the words fairly bursting from her lips. Her eyes widened momentarily as she recognised the blue eyes, the laughter dancing deep in their depths as he regarded her. Instantly, she shrunk from them, unable to comprehend the mirth when her heart felt leaden within her chest.

"Don't tell me what to do!" she retorted acidly, "I know what's best for my daughter."

"Sorry Ma'am," began the young man apologetically, placing his daughter gently back on the ground, "I didn't mean…"

His response however was drowned out as she marched over to the bars and carefully extricated her daughter's limbs from the bars. No sooner had the small feet hit the ground however, than she ran off again, this time back towards the wall to retrieve the small pink satchel that had been discarded in the wake of her excitement.

"Bye Hannah," she shouted, ignoring her mother's imperious glare, "Bye Mr Sully!," before hurrying off to clasp her mother's hand.

He watched as she strode across the playground, the little girl running to keep pace with her mother. The sunlight played across her long tresses, picking out the colours as easily as they had done earlier that day yet he could not dismiss the expression that had lingered in her eyes; the almost unfathomable anguish that she had tried so hard to disguise yet had flickered against her will amidst the flames of ire. With a sigh he turned away; the emotion was all too familiar to his gaze.

Guilt filled her heart and Michaela slowed her steps, heartily ashamed of her behaviour. She had certainly never reacted in such a manner before and was quite at a loss to explain the surge of anger she had propelled at the young man. Sully….

Turning back, she watched as he lifted his daughter up and swung her high above his head. Her dark curls billowed in the air and as her laughter echoed across the playground, she felt an inexplicable smile pulling at her lips. His laughter joined hers and for a moment they spun together before he set her down and gripping her hand set off towards the gate.

Hastily, she dropped her eyes back to her daughter only to be met with an expectant gaze.

"Mommy, are you mad?"

"No," she replied instantly, dropping down to her knees and wrapping her arms around the tiny form, "no I'm not mad. I just missed you."

"Mommy's nose is cold," giggled the young girl, pushing away from her mother's embrace.

"Maybe it is a little," she laughed, rubbing her nose surreptitiously, "come on, let's go home."