A/N You didn't think I'd skip the wedding did you? The wedding stands as is – because it was so very Luka and Abby, and so very lovely. This one picks up where the last chapter left off, then weaves in Family Business and then we find out what happened after the wedding. . . . . . . as if you didn't know ; )

"How Do I Love Thee"

Heads. It was heads. So, action, not patience. He smiled then grimaced. It was a risk, but it had always been a risk being with her. He had made mistakes in the past, so many mistakes, too many. He'd stayed when he should have left, he'd left when he should have stayed. He hadn't said what he meant, and God knows he hadn't meant some of the things he'd said. He'd lied when he should have told her the truth. He'd told the truth when maybe he shouldn't have. He'd screwed it up so badly, he had given up on a second chance to make things right. But, by some miracle she'd come to him one night. She'd come, and she'd cried. In front of him. And in that moment, he knew, really understood how far they'd come, even more importantly he knew too - or thought he knew - how far they could go. For a long time they had been on different paths, but it was as if in one moment they had reached the same intersection at the same time, and there was nothing left to do but collide.

Even so, he had managed to come perilously close to losing her. They'd walked away as "friends" the next day. Worse, he had almost put off telling her how he felt for too long. Inaction was as dangerous as action. It was right. They should be married. He knew it. She knew it. She was just scared. "Have you ever wanted something . . .so much. .. but it scared the hell out of you?" Yes, Abby. Yes, I have. You.

Luka put the nickel down on the dresser, got back into bed and curled his body around hers. She stirred in her sleep to press into him, rest her hand on his arm, toss her leg over his. No fear, he thought, just action, and then he slept.

He had kept his eye out for her all day at work. Too many people. Why was it when you wanted to be alone with someone, there were always hundreds of people around? Finally, he seized his moment, he mumbled an apology as he grabbed her arm and dragged her with him into the suture room.

"Dr. Kovac?"

"Hope .. . . . ."

"Dr. Kovac, I just want to say that I completely respect that you and Abby want to plan your wedding yourselves.. . . .don't worry about me . ."

"Hope.. . . . ."

"I would NEVER interfere where I'm not wanted….so just .. ."

"Hope.. . . . . "

"Rest assured that you won't hear any .. . " Luka's hand clamped down over her mouth , but still her lips didn't cease their protest.

"Hope. Listen .. I need your help. . … I want you to help me. . .surprise Abby."

Finally, the lips were still, and the eyes were wide. Luka slowly removed his hand.

"Will you help me plan our wedding. . . .Abby's and my wedding?"

"Oooooo Dr. Kovac." Her hands fluttered, then her whole body seemed to flutter, and before he knew it he was locked in an enthusiastic embrace. She caught herself and looking embarrassed, pulled back. "Sorry, Dr. Kovac. It's just … . a surprise wedding .. … .. I love surprises and I love weddings and I . . . I would be honored to help you."

This was either the best idea he'd ever had, or he was completely fucked.

He did his best to smile and nod.

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Abby watched him as they walked. "He's lucky." That's what Luka had said. Lucky because his Alzheimer's patient didn't have to remember – every day- that his son had died. She didn't think about it every day. But he did. Of course he did. She looked at Joe, bright eyed in his father's arms. She'd remember. .. .. if . .. . Abby shuddered. She couldn't even imagine. Didn't want to think what it would be like to lose their son. Of course they almost had. That was bad enough, before they ever even knew him. But now. .. . .he was a part of them. She knew every inch of him. Loved him like she hadn't known she could. Luka was speaking to a gurgling Joe in Croatian. He hadn't forgotten, but he'd moved on. She could feel it. All those years ago, it wasn't just him that remembered every day. It was her too. She knew then that he was walking around with missing pieces. But now, there were long stretches of time when she forgot. Forgot he'd ever had another wife, another family. Maybe that was because he wasn't missing pieces of himself anymore. . .or maybe it was because she wasn't missing pieces anymore. . . . .. .

"Luka?"

"Hmmm?"

"Let's go home."

He nodded and reached for her hand.

Luka spoke quietly, "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Before."

She nodded, and squeezed his hand. He brought her hand to his lips, then smiled. It was so easy . .so simple . . . finding refuge in Abby. For years he'd carried his pain on his own, hugged it to himself. Sometime, somehow, he'd found that he didn't have to shove it aside, or hold it in, nor did he really have to talk about it. It was enough to be able to say what he wanted and feel her with him. His pain. . .her pain. He didn't need to talk about it. He just needed to know that she knew. That she understood. That she knew him. It was no small thing to be known, not to him, not by her.

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The happiest day of her life. He was kissing her neck, and she laughed. Not because it tickled, although it did. But because it was absurd that her wedding day was in fact the happiest day of her life. How cliché was that? But not just that, it was absurd how much she loved her husband. Her husband. It was if every sappy love song, every romantic poem. . . . .every love story anyone had ever written . .. . . . it was true. She got it. What they were talking about. She'd always thought it was some fantasy. Something made up by people deluded . . .wanting to believe in something that didn't exist. She didn't know it could be real. That you could love, actually, really love someone enough to carry them in your heart, to feel it was meant to be. . .. that, in fact, another person could really be the sunshine of your life.. . . .It was deliciously ridiculous. She loved him . .. . like that .. .and even more ridiculous that was how he loved her. Absurd, unbelievable .. . . corny. . . . .

The love of her life. . . .her husband .. . . .

Love had always been inconstant. As a little girl, laughter turned to tears in a moment. An adventure became a nightmare. A closet, a place you kept not just your things, but yourself. She'd had another wedding day. But even then she hadn't it imagined it the happiest day she would ever have. Or maybe she did. Maybe that was why she'd done it. Maybe she had believed that was as good as it could get. She had loved Richard, in a way. . . . . . or she believed she did. In the end though, he'd confirmed the inconstancy of love, and she had to admit she'd confirmed it as well. Was it possible that that's what it had been about? She'd chosen someone to fulfill her expectations? Or lack thereof.

By the time she'd met Luka, she didn't expect much, didn't want to hope for much. She had been drawn to him. Wanted him. But she'd done her best to protect herself. Or had she? Clearly neither of them had been ready and especially not ready for everything that happened. . the mugging, her mother, the mess that was their first attempt at something. Maybe that was about fulfilling her expectations too . . .she'd expected him to go. . .and he did. She'd even kept Carter around as what? Insurance? Protection? She wasn't proud of herself. It wasn't that she hadn't had feelings for Carter. She had. Hadn't she? Luka's body was pressing into hers in a way that made it difficult to remember feeling anything for anyone else ever before.

When Carter had kept the ring in his pocket, it wasn't as if a knife went into her heart. It was more like cold water splashed on her face. There was no such thing as a "safe" relationship. There were no guarantees. Life was complicated. Love was inconstant. Things she knew. It wasn't really such a surprise. Or was it? She had thought . . .. .. What had she thought? That he would be the one to stay? That he wasn't as dangerous as Luka. Of course the irony was that Luka was the constant. The friend that didn't turn his back. The lover that didn't seem to mind her shortcomings. The husband that promised to love her forever .. . . . . . . .The man that was kissing her now, full on the lips. Who tasted of champagne and of himself. The love of her life. She smiled through the kiss, and he pulled back to look at her.

"What?"

"I'm just . . . . . . happy."

He said nothing but looked at her for a long moment before his hands reached up to her hair. He gently disentangled the pearls and then removed the hairpins one by one till her hair tumbled around her face, and he laced his fingers through it and ran them through, then stopped and tightened fistfuls of her hair gently pulling her toward him again, murmuring her name.

His wife. She was his wife. He had, more than once that day thought he was going to lose her again. Or if not lose her entirely, screw up what they had. But she hadn't run away, although it was her first instinct. Not that he could really blame her when he thought about it. It had been a crazy thing to do. On the other hand, it had worked. He knew her well enough to know not to give up. That had been his fatal mistake before. She'd run, and he'd given up. Well, maybe they had both changed, or just grown up a little. Or maybe now, they both realized what they had was worth fighting for. Still, she'd given him a scare disappearing during the reception. For a few moments, he'd actually been afraid she'd left, gone home, that she would tell him she regretted the wedding. .. . . ….and then he'd seen her. . . in the kitchen with Hope. She had looked at him and smiled, and that was all he needed. It was all he'd ever need. Damn she tasted good. Well maybe that wasn't all he needed. Where the hell was the zipper on this thing. . . … It was her turn to break the kiss.

"Luka. . ." He knew that tone in her voice, something important.

"What is it?"

She looked into his eyes. "I remember something . … more to the poem.. . . . . I think. .. I think. .. there's a part that goes. . . . … I fear not my fate. . . . for you.. . .. ." She felt her eyes fill again. Damn. She swallowed. Say it. "For … you are my fate."

"Abby." He took her face in his hands, and he claimed her all over again. His bride. His wife.

They undressed each other carefully, gently, bodies now pressed on the bed, no space, no distance, no fear, only each other. Sometimes fate was kind.