A/N: As I won't have a chance to update the main story for awhile, I promised (was guilt-tripped into promising) I'd post something in the meantime. These will be various scenes that were either cut from chapters, changed significantly, or scenes that never made it into chapters at all. Most of them are kind of romantic, bordering on maudlin. I'll try to post in order of where they'd fall in the story. Some will overlap or conflict with other scenes (things that were said, done, or established) so I don't know that they'd really be canon to One for the Ages. But it's something. Kind of?

"Special Skills"

Deleted Scene from Chapter 3, "Parachute"

I'm scheduled to start work on Monday, and so we try to make the most of the weekend, because who knows when we'll have time off at the same time once I'm working and Luka starts working. Whenever that is. I can tell he's antsy to find a job, if only because I know he doesn't like the idea of being unemployed while I'm working and we have a mortgage, and there's at least a little chivalry and ego mixed in there, the whole need to provide deal that men have. Although, my new salary is pretty nice, and I remind him that he doesn't have to go back to work right away. He shrugs, and says he loves spending time with Joe, but he's been working almost constantly since he was fourteen and he doesn't like the feeling of not working.

I ask him what he thinks he wants to do, and if he'll go back to hospice work.

"No." He shakes his head. "I think…I needed to do that, at least for a little while, but it's finished. How do you say it – out of my system."

I get it, what it was for him, a redemption of sorts for not being with his father when he died. And I'm glad he feels like he's gotten past that need, because there's something kind of gloomy and terrifying about it, to me. I see death plenty in the emergency room, but I feel like choosing to be around that, choosing to watch people die, is a little bit masochistic, and god knows I don't want Luka torturing himself. It seemed very much like penance, for him, and I'd rather he not have to witness death with his hands tied, not able to intervene. I know him, and I know part of why he chose emergency medicine is because he can do something, and I'm glad he wants to be back there, doing that.

"I think I still…I don't know…need a little change. I have a friend at the Tufts teaching hospital that said there was a faculty position, working in the hospital but also lecturing. I think…I'd like to do that. To teach."

"I think you're an excellent teacher." We're in bed, and I'm leaning up against him, kind of snuggled in, and I don't mean it to sound flirtatious but it does.

He chuckles. "I think you're biased."

"I could write you a recommendation." This time, I'm flirting on purpose.

"I'm not sure that would help. Considering the conflict of interest, I mean."

"So I shouldn't attach a list of your 'special skills'?"

"Well…only if we review those skills beforehand." He eyes me.

"Honestly." I sit up and try to force myself to stop looking at him like he's chocolate cake. "I think you'd make a great teacher. I mean – you are a great teacher."

He looks at me for a few moments, like he's processing it, and then nods. "I'll set up an interview."

"Okay." I curl up against him again, and pretty soon we're fooling around like teenagers, and then he kind of stops, and looks at me, with this concerned expression.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

His eyebrows furrow a little. "Is this…okay? I mean…I know we've been…together a lot lately, and I love that, but…I just want to be sure."

My mouth opens a little, but I really have no idea what to say, so I just sort of blink at him stupidly, until finally I manage to speak. "Yes. I – of course it is."

He picks up my hand and strokes it, very gently. "I just…I know when I came back from Croatia…you didn't want to. I don't want to push you."

"Luka." I reach up and stroke his cheek, and he leans into my hand, and then covers it with his own. "I wasn't myself, then. I was drinking, and I felt…I just couldn't get past how bad I felt. I didn't feel like I could."

"You do now?"

"Yes."

He nods. "Okay. I just wanted to ask."

"Thank you for asking. Really."

"I'd never want to hurt you, Abby." He turns his head a little and kisses my palm.

"I know." I lean in, and he gets the picture and cranes his head down to kiss me. "I love you."

He wraps an arm around me, and pulls me close. "I love you, too."