A/N:: This is actually so odd its not even funny. Well I hope it is funny actually... -confused- This was written for Alice originally, because she was going away and I was gonna miss her soooo much that we thought of the idea on one very odd walk home and I wanted to post it for her... Yeah, so here you go Alice!!
Love also goes to Heather, Kenzie, Elissa, Josefin and Andy...
Heather is also going to post her sequel to this, which is amazing!! Look out for it everyone... Her penname is ERgirl and her part is SO good!!
Every day I watch him stride through the doors, that amazing smile tickling at the edges of his mouth and I can't help but wish that some terrible fate would befall the petite woman at his side, the one with a smile on her lips mirroring his, and her hand entwined with his.
Abigail Lockhart.
She wouldn't have to die necessarily, I'm not fussy. I mean I'd settle for a life-threatening illness… a snake bite perhaps. Of course it would have to be a bite from the most dangerous, most poisonous snake that ever graced the planet, one so rare that no antidote has ever been discovered. No. There should be an antidote of some sort, if not, there's no drama, no suspense and I'm a sucker for drama. Right so there is an antidote but it exists in the form of a vibrant orange coloured flower that grows in only a handful of forests in New Guinea and must be utilised within 24 hours of collection or else renders itself useless. Yes, that's good. The image of her lying on a bed, fever ravaging her body, pale and virtually defeated, has never ceased to amuse me somewhat. Though knowing him, he'd lie vigil by her bedside; holding her hand, wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead, whispering sweet vows of love to her, and singing lullabies in that husky voice when she was afraid. That's just the kind of man he is.
I'm talking about Luka Kovac.
That's right; I am in love with Luka Kovac, Chief of ER, and soon-to-be husband of Abigail Lockhart.
Every time I see him, his arms wrapped around her and hers around him, my heart breaks. Well it would, if I had one. I know it's crazy, I do! It could never work out between us; relationships with pieces of furniture are seldom heard of around here, and besides, my love for him is unrequited. He doesn't love me; I know that; he loves Abby. It's easy to see; you only have to observe the looks he gives her when she's not looking to know it, those and the fact that he's always smiling when he's around her. He loves her and she loves him, what could be more perfect? If I wasn't so jealous, and if I wasn't in love with him too, I would probably be happy for them, but I can't shift the feeling deep down amongst my springs and stuffing, that if only he could see the type of gurney I really am, his opinion of me would change. Seeing as that will never happen, I have resorted to dirty tactics. I now take every opportunity I can to make Abigail Lockhart's life at the hospital a living hell; she can't have a great job and Luka, it's just not fair. I'm not having much luck though, as it happens. So far all I've managed to do is stick out my wheel slightly so that she tripped, almost falling flat on her face. I must say, that little antic did bring me some enjoyment, and I daresay I would have continued to enjoy it if Luka hadn't rushed to her rescue and caught her in his big, strong arms, planting a kiss on her nose before placing her back on her feet. Damn it why is he so perfect?
I know its love I feel and not just lust, I just know. I've experienced lust before, and my short fling with an oaken coffee table last year strengthens this claim. I know I didn't love him; I was just attracted to his gleaming top and smooth, shiny varnish. We had fun while it lasted, I won't deny it, but I know my feelings for Luka run far deeper than surface level. Every time he stands close to me I quiver slightly, and when his hand brushes against me as he pounds upon the chest of some unknown patient, I can barely resist the urge to encase him in the folds of my being and never let him go. When he strips me bare of my sheets, I only wish he would caress my leather with his strong hands, but he never does.
Now I watch his retreating form make its way, slowly and leisurely towards the doors, and I feel the familiar sinking feeling, like someone is tugging at my stuffing through a small hole in my cover. Suddenly he turns around. He's coming back to me! But then I see her; Abby. His face lights up when he sees her, and I can't ignore the glint in his eyes. She rushes over to him and they leave together, his arm draped around her shoulders, hers about his waist, both talking and laughing. As they do, I collapse to the ground in pieces, I can't take it anymore. When will people realise that gurneys have feelings too?