Author Note: This is for all you people who asked me to write more Naomi/Little Guy stuff. Well here it is! I'm embarrassed to say that I started this in September but didn't actually get up the motivation to finish it until now, November. Well its here now, and that's what counts.

Disclaimer: The Trauma Team and Trauma Center franchises belong to Atlus, to which I am not affiliated at all. Right, me, a fanfiction writing highschool nerd living in her parents' basement (well, I suppose it is still my house...) has a job as awesome as that. Sure.

Now Little Guy/Naomi fans (and welcome guests) please read, enjoy (and I think you will) and review.

White Lilies
A Trauma Team Fanfiction

CR-S01 stepped into the loud-orange hospital hallways, the door to the room behind him closing with a soft click. He was barely able to lift his eyes in time from the chart he was focusing so intently on to avoid running into a blond man who had appeared in front of him. He jolted to a halt as the man passed him, and then did an about-face and passed him again.

CR took a step back, realizing the man was pacing. He looked very professional in his leisurely, violet suit, though his sandy locks were tousled and in disarray; CR understood why when the man ran his fingers through his hair in a anxious manner. His wide, steely blue eyes were fixed on the floor as he continued to pace, muttering inaudibly to himself. A container of flowers sat in the chair against the wall past him, its base wrapped in shiny purple foil; probably bought at the hospital pharmacy. CR noticed a few of its blossoms were starting to droop and wondered how long it had been sitting there.

It was a very odd sight. The surgeon watched for a few minutes in silence, bemused. Then he realized how rude it must be to just stand and watch someone, so he cleared his throat. "Um, excuse me. Can I help you with something? Sir?"

The man looked over with a start, having not realized him standing there. "Huh? Oh!" His cheeks flared a deep pink. "Uh, I was just…" His eyes traveled to the door beyond CR.

The surgeon took notice. He motioned over his shoulder. "Are you… here to see Naomi?"

"Uh. Yeah. Miss… Miss Kimishima, yeah…" He nodded.

Was it normal for someone to be this flustered, CR wondered. He supposed he wasn't a very good judge of character, having been locked in "a fridge," (or so Gabriel called it,) for so many years…

Still, he was a doctor, and he had to be cordial to all his patients and those who visited them.

I think I remember him… It occurred to CR. "Are you perhaps, her assistant?"

"No. Well, yeah. Well…" He swallowed. "Yes, that's me."

Is he ill? CR pondered. I can't tell if this is normal behavior or not. He noticed beads of sweat collecting on the man's forehead and the brilliant shade his face had turned. No… Maybe he's just nervous. Very, very nervous.

Naomi's assistant cast another glace at the door before imploring, "So… Um…"

CR took his meaning. "She's doing very well," he told him, giving him the smile he'd been working so hard on.

It seemed as if the man in purple expelled all his breath at once when he heard this, slumping over in relief. "That's good…" he murmured.

After a moment, he straightened and cleared his throat, adjusting his disheveled tie as he did so. "Thank you. Doctor. I'll… um, be going now." He stalled for an awkward moment before turning on his heels and heading off.

CR again noticed the flowers still sitting on the chair and thought he may understand the man's behavior a little better.

He must care for her very much.

Before he got too far down the hall, CR called to him, "I think you should go see her."

The assistant came to a halt and looked back without saying anything.

"I think she'd be happy that you came to visit her," CR continued.

The blush in the man's cheeks rekindled. "You think?" Despite his apparent embarrassment, he was retracing his steps now.

CR nodded. "Go see her."

The assistant gave a slow nod. "A-all right." He shuffled towards the door.

"Hey." CR caught his attention again and indicated the flowers with a dart of his eyes.

"Oh! Right!" The man self-consciously made his way back to the chair and took the flowers into the crook of his elbow. "Thanks."

CR nodded.

He then crossed back over and stood before the door. Taking a deep breath and readying himself, he turned the knob and gently pushed the door open.

Inside it was quiet, save for the rhythmic tones of the heart-rate monitor in the corner. The shades were drawn together, letting in only thin bars of warm sunlight.

As Little Guy's gaze traveled to the hospital bed, he let out an apprehensive breath.

Naomi's eyes were closed and her ghostly pallor made her resemble the corpses she attended to every day. His eyes darted to the heart-rate monitor for reassurance; the persistent tone relieved his worry.

Satisfied that she was just sleeping, he began to cross the room to the window sill, his shoes making soft taps on the tile.

He couldn't deny that some part of him was relieved that Naomi was sleeping, but another part of him was disappointed. It had taken all of the courage he had to even come here and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to muster up enough of the stuff to come again, let alone to prepare for what he was going to say a second time…

He set the flowers on the window sill, and regarded them as an artist might view a still-life. He played with the position of the container and prodded the blooms, making sure it was perfect.

A voice behind him nearly made him jump. "You know, bringing a rooted plant to someone in the hospital is bad luck."

Little Guy spun around, unconsciously taking the flower container into his arms again. "Oh! Naomi! Er- Miss Kimishima. You're-" He glanced down at the white blossoms protruding from a small amount of soil in his hand. His complexion flared, as if he'd just committed a terrible faux pas. "I-it is? I didn't-"

Naomi sat up in her bed, her face amused. She silenced him with her hand and beckoned him to come closer. Stiff like a statue, Little Guy found himself obeying.

Naomi caressed one of the blossoms with her fingers, their shade and that of the delicate petals almost matching. "White Lilies," she said, bringing her face closer to savor the aroma. "They're lovely."

Her comment left his knees feeling wobbly, and he could only imagine what color his face had turned. This is so stupid, why does this always happen when I'm around her? He was beginning to have second thoughts about what he'd come here to tell her.

Naomi took the lilies and set them on her bedside table. Their hands met, however briefly. That did it. Little Guy sunk into a chair next to the bed, grateful for how conveniently it had been placed; his knees had given out.

He sat there silently, with back rigid and his hands clasping and unclasping.

Naomi took notice of this with a frown. "You don't have to be so anxious. I'm fine, Little Guy," she insisted. "The surgery was a success."

The doctor outside had said as much, but hearing it from her own mouth finally made him come to the realization. She's fine. She needs time to recover but she's fine.

Little Guy noticed the white bandages wrapped around her torso. They were visible over the neck of her hospital gown. He imagined what the scar might be like from the surgery on her heart. Then, realizing where he had been staring, hastily corrected himself.

If she had noticed, she didn't react to it. "So," she began, "to what do I owe this visit? Feel obligated to send your boss a 'get-well-soon' gift?"

He knew she was teasing him, but the way she'd put it upset him. That he felt "obligated," seemed like such a cold and mechanical way of putting it. He wanted to prove her wrong now, to show her the real reason he'd come. In the spur of the moment, he suddenly found the courage to say what he'd wanted to say for so long, not even realizing it.

"Naomi," he had no reservation to using her first name now, "I need to tell you something. Confess something, get off my chest, whatever." He sat up straighter in his chair, Naomi taking intrigue to what he had to say.

"I have- Well I…" The sudden attention she had devoted to him caused him to falter. He tried again, deciding to tell it like it was. "The day I got the call from Chief Wayne, when he told me that you had collapsed and were going in for emergency heart surgery I was… so scared. I got down here as fast as I could but you had already gone in." He chuckled mirthlessly. "I was such a wreck. I was so afraid that I was never going to see you again. It was… unbearable. I… I couldn't…."

He moved on, realizing that he was getting nowhere. "It was the same with the Raging Bomber. It happened so fast. You were in danger. I didn't even think about myself, all I could think of was protecting you. The same thing when you went in for your surgery but… there was nothing I could do. It was out of my hands. That was so hard for me to realize. That I could do nothing to help you. To protect you. I…"

He had kept his eyes on the floor thus far, but to say what he was going to say next he needed to make eye contact. "Naomi I…" He felt a shake in his resolve. No he was so close, he needed to say it. "I have… feelings for you." It sounded so stupid, so childish. "It seems like they've always been there. Even back when we worked for Delphi-" He caught himself, expecting Naomi to lash out at him for bringing up the past. Instead she observed him quietly with her serene blue eyes, waiting for him to continue.

Little Guy, a little surprised at first, went on. "I thought they might go away. After we were split up. That I'd forget about you and move on. But I never did. The feelings never went away. But then through sheer happenstance, we meet up again. And, well…" he smiled, embarrassed. "They're still there."

He took a moment to recover, then met her eyes. "Naomi, you are such an amazing woman," he said in awe. "I can't even talk to you without getting choked up. You have no idea how long it took me to prepare for this, let alone actually be able to do it."

Then, with all the seriousness he could muster he added. "All I want, is to be able to protect you; to be with you, no matter what." He sighed and closed his eyes. "That's all I wanted to say."

The sudden courage that he had found left him in that heartbeat and sent anxious adrenaline surging through his body. He had to get out. He was afraid of her reaction, how she would tease him or mock him for his affections. He panicked and rose unsteadily to his feet. "I'll be going now," he choked out. He felt he couldn't get to the door fast enough; he shot his hand out for the handle when her voice stopped him. A single word.

Had she just said his first name? His mind was so scrambled that he was unsure of exactly what he had heard. The word sounded so foreign to him, after having been referred to as "Little Guy" for so long. He was unaware that Naomi even knew his first name.

Dumbstruck, he found himself turning back to her.

"I knew," she said, her eyes hiding behind her dark lashes. "And your feelings are not as unrequited as you might think."

What did she just say…? Little Guy fell back against the wood of the door, his heart pounding wildly.

"R-really?" he managed to squeak out.

Naomi smiled. "Yes," she admitted, and looked to the shafts of golden light peeking through the shades. They lit up her face with a warm glow. "But for now, we'll see how things turn out. You have your whole life ahead of you, and… I do too." She paused, eyes lighting up as if the notion had just come to her for the first time. A small smile graced her face. "Who knows where the future will lead." She looked at the gift resting on her bedside table and again began to caress the tender blossoms. "Thank you for the lilies." She met his eyes one last time. "I hope you'll visit again soon."

Little Guy paused. He realized that for the first time, he wasn't nervous he wasn't embarrassed, he wasn't blushing, he was comfortable. Being with Naomi now just felt so right. He returned her smile. "I will." With that he turned and stepped out the door.

CR heard a click to his right as he walked down the hospital halls. He looked up from his charts- a bad habit he'd developed, reading charts while walking- and stepped aside to avoid the opening door.

A blond man in a violet suit stepped out. He turned and guided the door shut. There was a soft click.

"Oh, it's you again," CR observed. "How did it go- whoa." The blond man's knees gave way, sending him toppling into the doctor's arms, his charts clattering to the floor.

Naomi's assistant muttered some lethargic gibberish and his eyes were cloudy. He looked exhausted.

"Are you okay?" CR asked in alarm, trying to get a better hold on the man.

"She said maybe!" A wide smile drawn across his face.

CR blinked, wondering how such and indecisive answer could leave someone so deliriously happy. Just then, he felt the full weight of the man drag him down. It seemed his legs were completely useless now.

"Easy." As gently as he could, CR lowered him to the floor. He looked perfectly content, but out of it nonetheless.

"Uh, nurse?" CR called. One appeared from around the corner. "Get a room prepped. I think there might be something wrong with this guy…" He noticed that the delirious smile had yet to fade.

"Right away, doctor."

Before long, two med-techs arrived with a gurney, flanked by the nurse. With their help, CR lifted the assistant onto the bed. He still hadn't snapped out of it.

"I think he just needs some rest," CR said, scratching his head.

The MT's nodded and began wheeling him away.

Dumbstruck, he watched them progress down the hall. Was that… normal? CR was dubious. He didn't trust his judgment any more. To be on the safe side he called after them. "Have Dr. Cunningham examine him when he wakes up. Make sure that he's not ill, or something."

The nurse sped off to do just that as the MT's rounded the bend. CR stood there a long while, pondering what he'd just witnessed.

He stooped over to pick up his charts when the door to his patient's room caught his eye.

What did she do to him in there?

As if afraid that standing there would cause the same thing to happen to him, he hurried off to continue on with his rounds.