A/N: And... I'm back with chapter three! That's a lot faster than last time huh? Wrote this one in less than two hours, then discussed it with Maarten, and this is the final result. Reviews were a little less than chapter 1, but I hope this chapter is getting better again...! (If you're confused by Abby's thoughts about Carter, read ch4 and 5 of 'My Golden Rule')
Disclaimer: Well, I don't own the characters. Just like everyone else.
Summary: A season 12 story from Abby and Luka's point of view. About being together, preparing for parenthood, and trusting each other.
Beta:
Again thanks to Maarten, and to the wonderful thing called English Language Spellcheck on our Imac. (My own PC doesn't support that for some reason) So, everything should be flawless now ;).
Warning: English isn't my native language, but I do the best I can
Note: 'Have A Little Faith In Me' will be deleted very, very soon!

Reposted for grammar mistakes, and change of some sentences.

Our Golden Year

Chapter 3 – The Stoned Rabbit & The Late Night Call

Sunday 26 March 2006 – 19:00

Still thinking about Kerry I open the door of Luka's apartment. I never realized how much her handicap meant to her, and how personal something like that. And now I think about it, I get that it makes sense. Tomorrow she's going to do it, and I'm very flattered that she wanted me to be Henry's guardian, in case something will go wrong. But nothing will go wrong.

But what if it does though? I rather not think about it, but that would mean that Henry...

Poor kid. I glance down at my belly and realize that there's another 'poor kid.' I grin and get up from the couch to make some tea.

Just when the water starts to boil Luka comes back from, I guess, the grocery store, taking the fact that he's carrying two brown bags and a plastic one.

"Hi," I smile as he makes his way to the kitchen table.

He puts the bags down and looks up to me with a, somehow, guilty look on his face.

"What is it?" I ask as I walk over to the table to see what's in the bags.

"Argh, nothing. I just bumped in to some... baby stuff."

"Baby stuff" I ask with raised eyebrows and peek in the bags.

He grins a little embarrassed as I take a plastic box out which includes... a tiny light blue plate with a yellow duck in the middle and a matching spoon.

"Isn't it a little early for this?"

"Don't you think it's sweet?"

"Well, yeah. Yeah, it's sweet," I smile as I take out a very, well, I don't know how to put it otherwise, stoned looking rabbit.

"Yeah. I saw that one and I couldn't resist."

I nod laughing and observe the rabbit a little better. "This one is really good." One eye is actually bigger, and closer to the nose than the other, his color is a soft green and the ears are way too big and one is hanging down it's unstable body.

He smiles as he opens the refrigerator to put away the vegetables. "Thought so."

"Heard about Kerry?" I ask as I put the tea bags in the mugs.

"I went to check on her just before I left the hospital. She told me you'd been there."

"She asked me to be Henry's guardian," I tell as we sit down on the couch.

"I know. We talked a little about him, I offered that we could take care of him for the next two days."

"Of Henry?"

"Yeah, why not?"

I raise my brow at that. I can think of enough reasons not to do that. He looks at me, really not understanding why I'm making a point out of this.

"Well, what about Sandy's parents?" I ask.

"They aren't home Monday and the day after, and Kerry was a little worried. You're not okay with that?

"No, that's... I'm fine with it, sure, if Kerry wants me to... But... do you even have a crib?"

"No, but Sandy's parents come over here around eleven, and they bring his stuff."

"But I... We are working tomorrow."

"Not anymore. I arranged that with Ray and Clemente, they were willing to cover."

"Jesus."

"What?"

"Well... you, me... Henry... that's like..."

"Exactly," he grins. "Practice makes perfect."

"So they say..." I mumble, still dazzled and sip from my tea. "God... a whole day with a child..."

"Two days."

"Two days," I repeat, suddenly realizing that this comes very close to the real thing. "Two... long... days."

"Wonderful."

"What?"

"Wonderful, instead of 'long.' 'Long' is a little negative."

"I didn't know that," I chuckle sarcastically and throw a magazine on my lap.

"Come on, we can take care of him."

"I hope so," I smile and resit so I'm leaning against his chest, the position that works out perfectly for reading a magazine together.

He sighs and wraps his arms around my middle, his hands coming to rest on my belly. "Hey, can't close your jeans?"

I look down and see that the button is loose. "Oh, I didn't even notice..." I smirk as I try to close it again. No luck.

"Oh! Maternity wear..." he whispers in my ear.

I let out a long sigh and lean with my head against his chest. "Yeah, I guess so..."

------------------------------

She snuggles closer against me and opens the magazine somewhere in the middle. It's what we almost do every evening, on the couch, reading magazines, about baby's. Prenatal care, birth, cribs, the 'fashion' of nursery, – it's all about vintage at this moment – we know everything. Still, we haven't really bought anything yet, besides the plate and the rabbit I brought home today. I just couldn't resist.

"Geez, these baby monitors are pretty expensive..."

I glance down at where's she's aiming at. "Calming vibrations monitors?" I laugh. I'm sorry, but I can't be serious about that.

"It's the new... technology."

That doesn't explain a vibrating monitor. "Okay. Who is it supposed to calm down then?"

"The baby," she laughs and reads the description. "Calming vibrations monitor soothes baby with remote activated crib mounted calming vibrations or with sounds of the seashore."

"Sounds of the seashore?"

"I'm not saying that we should get those things, I'm just saying that they're expensive."

"Of course," I grin and kiss her neck. "I know."

"Good. Shouldn't you be making dinner...?"

I groan and lift her up from my chest. "I'm all in for take-out," I say as I get up.

"Me too," she smiles and falls back on the couch.

I order us two pizzas and then go to the bathroom. When I come back, Abby is still laying on the couch, legs curled up and her face on one of the pillows. Out of it.

She works too much. If she'd just cut back on her hours a little bit... but this is Abby, who doesn't want any special treatment at work, and conquers the couch the minute she gets home.

Twenty minutes later the doorbell rings and Abby wakes up again. "Food," she smirks and sits up straight. I look at her in amusement as she grabs a slice and takes a bite. "Very good pizza."

"I know."

"What is this place again?" She asks with the tomato sauce all around her lips. Cute, but a little...

"Ab, you're eating a little disgusting."

She frowns at that and takes another bite. Geez, is she gonna eat that thing in three bites?

"I'm just hungry."

Oh oh. That sounded near to snappy. Different subject.

"So, what could we do with Henry?"

"Keep him alive," she answers simply as she licks the tomato sauce from her lips. "And feed him."

"That's all?"

"What? You want to take him to the Zoo?" Well, that's not a bad idea, but she sounds a little bit cynical.

I shrug. "I don't know. Take him to the park. There's not much here for a two year old."

"You have a point there." She leans in and grabs another slice.

"So, park?"

"The park it is. If the weather is working with us."

"Otherwise we could go...to the Zoo after all."

"What's it with you and Zoo's?"

"Nothing. I just haven't been there for a long time. I like those monkeys and the elephants."

"Anpangs," she mumbles with her mouth full.

"And what?"

"Penguins. They have that funny walk." She waggles with her hips. "It's hilarious. We should have gone to that new penguin movie."

I decide not to answer that one.

In no time both of the pizzas are gone and Abby disappears to the bedroom to change in her sweatpants.

She's fun, different, since she's pregnant, and definitely since last week. Despite the weird, and honestly unexpected mood swings, she's sweet. I pick up the soft green rabbit and put it in the windowsill. Good buy. And Abby loves it. She doesn't admit easily, that she likes all the baby stuff we're now 'able' to buy, but it's pretty obvious since she devours the magazines.

Letting out a deep sigh I fall back on the couch and switch on the TV. Some animation movie. I rub my eyes and resettle the pillow under my head. What the hell is this about? A mammoth and some lisping... something.

------------------------------

"Luka!" I shout from the bedroom as I'm standing in front of his closet, searching for sweatpants. I forgot that mine are still in my locker.

He's not answering. "Luka!"

"Yeah?" I finally hear from the living room.

"Do you have sweatpants or jogging pants here?" I ask and go stand in the doorway.

"You don't have your own?"

"They're in my locker."

He gets up and walks over to me. "There's a fun movie on TV."

I raise my eyebrows at that statement and follow him to the closet.

"Don't think so...," he mumbles as he goes through some clothes.

"You don't have any?"

"I'm not a jogger."

I smirk and sit down on the bed. "Pyama pants then?"

"You ever saw me in pyamas?"

"Yes. Long time ago."

He frowns at that. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

He shrugs and bends down to the lowest shelf. "Oh, look at this. It's black."

"And too big," I add as I see the black... thing.

"Yeah, they won't fit you..." He observes me for a minute and I begin to feel pretty uncomfortable.

I give him a look and as he catches my stare he's back in reality. "Robe. Wear my robe."

That's not a bad idea at all. "Good idea." I put on his – way too big – robe and step out of my jeans. Much better.

Back on the couch I lay my legs over his lap. "What is about, the movie?" I ask as I see some ugly tigers and a lot of snow.

"No idea. But they had this fun 'tuh duh duh' song."

Tuh duh duh? Whatever. I sigh and try to concentrate on the screen. The tigers are talking. One of them, named... Ah, Soto, speaks with a huge amount of evilness in his voice. Weird accent. "What kind of accent is that?" I ask frowning.

"Croatian."

"Really?"

"Sounds like it."

"I didn't know we have Croatian American actors."

Uh-oh. Assaulted him with that one. He looks at me with raised eyebrows.

"Never say that again."

------------------------------

After the baby is returned to his father and we're watching the credits I look at Abby, who, to my surprise, has little tears in her eyes.

"Are you crying?" I ask and lean in to check if I'm right. And I am.

She nods, her head still leaning on the arm of the couch. "Just a little bit. Saw the eyes of that mammoth?"

"Yes," I grin and pull her against me.

"Guess I'm getting all hormonal," she smirks and lays her head against my shoulder.

"Oh, I think you already are," I answer laughing. She's more emotional about everything. Not only about animated characters, and mammoth's eyes, but also when it comes down to the loss of patients. It's getting to her more, and, more important, she shows it off more. Involuntary or not, I'm glad about that.

She sighs when the credits are replaced by commercials and lets out a long, long yawn.

"I want the second trimester benefits to kick in." She stands up and pulls me up as well.

"You just had a rough day," I say as I switch off the TV and pick up the rabbit on my way to the bedroom.

"Why the hell are you bringing that... stoned rabbit thing in your bed?" She asks clearly surprised as she comes back from the bathroom.

"For the right smell."

"Eugh." She just answers and crawls under the sheets.

"Don't 'eugh' that. Don't you think it's good for the baby to have a rabbit that smells just like us?"

"Well," she answers and turns on her side towards me. "Maybe."

I smile satisfied and place the rabbit between our pillows. She cocks her brow but I do see the amusement shining through her cynical look, like it always does.

"You know what," she mumbles. "You're sweet."

Not knowing what to do with that comment I turn on my back and chuckle.

"What?" She asks laughing.

"Am I supposed to say the same thing to you now?" I grin as I turn back on my side.

"Well... no. Since that wouldn't be believable."

"You cried during Ice Age."

She shakes her head. "Whatever." It's silent for a moment and I put on the alarm before I switch the light off.

But then Abby feels the urge to interrupt. "Oh, this sucks."

"What?"

"I still have a garlic flavor in my mouth."

"Thought you had brushed your teeth..."

"I did. But there's still a little garlic thingy in my jaw..." The last words are pretty much incomprehensible as I hear her sticking her finger in her mouth.

"That sounds disgusting."

"It's not. It's just annoying."

"Okay."

"Eugh, I should get this out."'

No you're not. I already feel the covers move but then swing her arm around her middle, making her giggle, but more important; stop moving.

"Don't. Don't go out of bed."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Just close your eyes."

"Still, mint and garlic isn't much of a combo."

"Hmhm."

"Really."

"I understand."

"A bad, bad combination."

"Sjjjh...," I say and replace my hand to her hip, trailing my fingers over the little bump. Her hands fall on mine. "Go sleep," I whisper.

"I'm trying."

"Stop talking."

"You know, my foot sleeps though."

I groan and lift my arm off her.

"Really, it's tingling."

"Shut up," I smirk and pull the covers over my head.

Monday 27 March 2006 – 01:30

I wake up as I roll over to the other side of the bed and find no Luka. Geez, what time is it... ...1:30. Did he get paged? No... no he's not on call. Still half asleep I sit up and look around the room. Then I hear a faint voice coming from the living room. His voice.

I get up and wrap a plaid around my cold body as I shuffle to the doorway. I see him sitting on his couch, calling with someone.

My breath catches in my throat. Oh God. Oh no. A person calling round this time of night is always bad news. Did someone die in Croatia? Please not Maggie or Eric, please no.
I walk around the couch and go standing in front of him.

He looks up to me, a little overwhelmed by my appearance.

"Hey...?" I whisper sleepy and sank down besides him. "Whom are you talking to?"

"John."

"Carter?"

He just nods and holds his hand up to prevent me from asking more questions so I just curl my legs up and look at him. Carter... I almost forgot about him in the past few weeks, but Luka didn't. I glance at the coffee table, where I now see the postcard with the sunset that Carter had send to the ER.

"But what are the main problems?" I hear Luka ask. I frown, problems can never be good, and try to follow the conversation with Luka's words.

"And you're there now with...? ...Eight? ...Yeah... yes, I understand. ...Yes I would, of course I would..." He turns his head to me and offers me a small smile. "Go back to bed..." he whispers.

"No, I'm fine..."

"John? No, I woke Abby up. ...But what for patients do you guys have over there? ...That many? No, of course... Yes..."

I yawn and get up to get myself a glass of water.

"I'll do what I can. I'd be willing to, yes. Of course. I think in two weeks, but I'll try to reach you again."

I walk back to the couch. What in two weeks?

"I'll call you about it, but it's 1:30 here so... yeah. Yeah, haha, you can say that... I do, I will. Okay, bye John."

He hangs up and lets out a deep sigh.

"What was that all about?" I ask as I sip from my water.

"Well, first, he wants to congratulate you with your pregnancy."

"You told him?"

"Well, yes?" Yes. Yes, of course. And in a way he already knew of course. Or, well, almost. It must be weird for him to first see me crying about the fact that I might be or might be not pregnant, and then hear Luka's voice on the phone that tells him that I'm thirteen weeks along.

"How did he react?"

"Okay. Truly happy for you, really."

"But that's not why he called right?"

"No." His expression changes. He looks down, that grimace on his face that always means worries or bad news.

"Are you okay?" I ask carefully and shift closer to him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"So what's going on?"

He swallows and begins to play with his hands. "Carter asked me to do him a favor."

"What kind of favor?" I shift back to the corner of the couch and I'm not even sure why. It's just the way he's approaching this that scares me.

"To come to Darfur."

That goes too fast to understand. Jesus. Did he really just say that? No, please.

"They're short staffed," he adds, giving me a 'please understand' look.

But I don't understand. It's one of those things I'll never understand.

"I don't care that they're short staffed," I blurt out and stand up from the couch.

"Well, I do. And John does. And there are too many people out there who need help."

"That's not the point." I walk over to the kitchen and put my glass in the sink. "You know Luka, that's not the point." The anger must be clear in my voice now.

"Hey, I understand that you don't want me to go, but if I can help there..."

"Just stop it," I say, lifting my hands up in the air from frustration. My eyes are burning, tears that are about to fall down behind them.

He purses his lips and puts the phone back on it's standard. "It's only for a month." He states, his back towards me.

I lean against the kitchen counters, trying to focus on my breath so I won't start to cry. And it's not because of my stupid hormones, it's because this is so delicate for me. It's that whole fucked up Africa thing that hurts me every time he or John mentions it with so much feeling, so much excitement. And they both don't seem to understand that for me it's none of that. I align Africa, no matter if it's the Congo or Sudan, with insecurity, lost of trust, pain, sorrow, whatever else I've been feeling all these weeks. And I can't go through all that again. I don't want to. I don't want him to go.

Luka sat down on the couch again, his arm leaning on the couch, his hand supporting his head. I blow out a long breath. The tiny plate is still lying on the kitchen counter. When everything was all cosy and good. Now it's ruined.

"I understand that you want to help him," I say, doing my very best to stay calm, as I sit down on a chair. "But I can't miss you here."

He nods slowly, sighs. "For four weeks. Then I'll be back."

I shake my head. "No. You didn't come back last time."

He looks up, confused, irritated. "What are you talking about?"

I raise my eyebrows. What I'm talking about? "Whatever." I get up and walk back to the bedroom. I thought he'd understood. I really thought he would.

"Hey, Ab. Wait. Let's talk about this."

"Talk?" My eyes burn again, ready to cry. "You. Want to talk?"

He nods and turns his head to me. "Yes."

I shake my head. "I can't talk to you about this. It hurts too much."

"Why?"

"You don't get it do you?"

"No."

I squeeze my eyes shut, my mind flying back to that moment. "I..." My voice trembles. "I was about to walk back into County, after I had a fight with Carter about Africa, and then Chuny walked up to me. You know what she told me? You were dead. We got a call, and you died. In Africa." I'm yelling every word, at him, to him. Hoping they'll hurt him as much as they hurt me.

"God dammit Luka, you were dead. Dead. Killed, or whatever. We didn't know how. I didn't know how. It scared the crap out of me. And I don't want to go through that again, I don't want you to go again." I'm crying through my words now.

I look straight in his eyes, daring him to say something. I want him to say something, to tell me he's sorry, that he won't go.

"I want to go to Sudan." He speaks softly, but it sounds like everything I just managed to tell him didn't impress him at all.

"Well. I can't stop you, can I?" I spit at him.

Can I? Please say yes. Please. I want him to hug me, to reassure me that he really isn't leaving, but he's just still sitting there, mouth half open with that damned look on his face.

He licks his lips and shrugs. "I'd do it for Carter."

"You'd do it for Carter," I repeat annoyed and walk back to the doorway of the bedroom.

For Carter. Like that is the best reason in the world to just get back there.

"Then do the best you can." And with that I slam the bedroom door behind me.

------------------------------

I'm still sitting on the couch, staring at John's postcard. I hurt her. I knew she wasn't going to like the idea, but I didn't expect... this. She's scared for Africa. But John needs help, and I can't just ignore that. I wish I could, but we have a friendship, especially about these subjects, that prevents me from ignoring it. We understand each other about this subject, and I know that freaks Abby out.

I sigh and walk to the bedroom. Abby is lying on her side, face averted from my side of the bed. I look at her for a moment, but she presses her face half into her pillow. Silently I walk to my side of the bed and carefully slid under the covers.

I lay down on my back and stare up to the ceiling, trying to think about a way to make her understand, although I know that she doesn't want to. Besides, I don't even know how to explain. It's too hard, too intimate.
But I can't stand her crying either. Normally, when she's like this, I'd tell her that things would be fine, even when I wouldn't believe it myself, but that's not how it's going to be this time. I'm involved now.

"Ab..." I try and sit up. "Promise me we can talk about this tomorrow?"

"Promise me you're not going."

I bite my lip and lay down on my back again. "I'm sorry. I can't. Not right now."

"Could you then just turn off the light?" She asks bitter.

I switch my night lamp off and try to get comfortable and fall asleep, but the continues sniffing of Abby prevents me from that. But I can't promise that I'm not going, I wish I could, but I can't, not if it would trouble Carter as much as he said it would.

Once the clock turns 3:00 it sounds like Abby fell asleep, and I'm still awake. Awake, the ears of the rabbit in my hand, waving it, make it swirl, make it do a somersault in the air. Backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards...

It's now that I realize how much they both mean to me. John and Abby. I need to help him out there, I want to be here for Abby, and for myself, be with her. Maybe I should send someone else, but who? No one at County ever shared interest about it. The effect it would have on my relationship with Abby makes me shiver. That's not what I want to happen. But she's not willing to talk about it. I don't know. I don't know what the next thing is to do.

But I do know, that hurting Abby more than I already did tonight isn't worth anything.

Backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards...



Thank you for reading!

(Preview for chapter 4: He hit her sore spot, and now there's trouble in Luby Land... Still there is a little boy to take care off, even though every conversation seems to end up in an awkward moment, but will that change?)

Please, leave a review ... !