Fic: ER, "Next to the Last Romantic"

[anxietygrrl]

Written for jesshelga, who does not have a crush on Morris.

Title: "Next to the Last Romantic" or, "Dollar Store Cowboy"
Fandom: ER
Characters/Pairing: Sam, Morris; Sam/Morris?; (Also Ray/Neela; also, the sky is blue.)
Rating: PG/K+
Word Count: 765
Summary, according to J: "Sam and Morris plan Ray and Neela's engagement party, and Sam is charmed by Morris' Morrisseyness (not Morrissey the singer)"


Sam wondered if she could blame Ray and Neela for the fact that she was spending her dinner break in Everything's A Dollar with Archie Morris, overzealous party planner and dedicated cheapskate. Yeah, they didn't actually know about his little surprise setup on the hospital roof, but it had to be somebody's fault she got roped into this, and since they were the ones who had to go and get engaged she was willing to lay it on them.

She checked her watch. At this rate she'd be lucky if she got a chance to scarf down a Lean Cuisine before she went back on shift. She looked into her basket full of plastic cups and mismatched crepe paper streamers, and decided there was room for a box of those foreign-looking snack crackers she'd seen in the last aisle. She'd already torn into them when she heard, "Hey, Sam!"

Morris was digging through a giant wire bin of cardboard holiday decorations, leaning over almost double to reach for the dusty, deep clearance Valentine's Day leftovers all the way at the bottom. He came up with a pink foil Cupid with a two-foot wingspan.

"What do you think?"

"I think that's really tacky. Can we go now?"

"Did you get the balloons?"

"Yeah, I got balloons. Where are we even going to put all this crap?"

"Are you kidding? It's gonna be great, I've got it all laid out. We've got the twinkly lights, we'll tie the balloons to strategically placed IV stands..."

"Festive."

He tossed the Cupid into his cart and folded his arms. "What's with you, Nurse Buzzkill? Why'd you volunteer for this if you're going to be such a--"

"Don't you dare, Morris."

"A pill."

"I didn't volunteer, I was drafted. None of the other nurses wanted to hang out with you." And she hadn't wanted to spend another dinner break with Tony, arguing about their last fight.

"Lucky you, then."

"Yeah," she said, pushing past him toward the checkout. "Lucky me."

"Don't tell me you're not at least a little bit excited about this. Come on! True love triumphs in the end over unbelievable obstacles! Happily ever after, for Christ's sake!"

"You believe in true love."

"You don't?" She shrugged. He looked at her almost pityingly. "How long have we worked together?" he asked.

"Six years."

"Is that all?"

"Six long years."

"I don't remember you being this cynical six years ago."

"Yeah, well.... People change." She didn't really believe it, of course. It was just something to say. "Anyway, I didn't say I wasn't happy for them. I think it's great. Really. But the way you're so into this...it's kind of weird."

"Oh, well, okay, I guess if wanting to do something nice for some friends is weird, then I'm weird."

"You're pretty weird," she agreed, and found herself smiling.

"Maybe I just figured that after all the crappy things that have happened to—" He did a little mental math and came up with, "—basically everyone we know...finally here's something worth celebrating."

And the thing was, he was sincere about it. Really, really sincere.

"You know, six years ago I don't remember you being this..."

"What?" He was at the end of the counter bagging the loot, and he looked up at her from under his eyelashes, all inquisitive like a little kid, and yet...not.

"I don't know. Never mind." The bored checkout girl had stopped scanning, and was staring at her pointedly. Sam handed her the open box of crackers. Before she could finish digging her wallet out of her purse, Morris sidled up and swiped his card.

As they walked to his car, she realized she was actually looking forward to this crazy surprise party now. Maybe she'd go home and get her camera; she could probably get some great candids.

She was jarred from her thoughts by Morris suddenly sticking his hand into the bag she was carrying around her elbow and grabbing the crackers. He crammed a handful into his mouth and crunched away. The expression on his face turned first to curiosity, and then to exaggerated disgust. "What are these, maple...shrimp?" He squinted at the box for a second, and then tossed it into the next trash can they passed. "Man, I'm starving. You want to drive through the Taco Hell?"

"Sure," she said. "Why not?"