((A/n - this fic was written in response to the following challenge:
"Write a Luby fanfic in a different age. Could be Luka and Abby in the 60's, Luka and Abby in the ice age, Luka and Abby in the future, Luka and Abby as little kids. Surprise us."
For the purposes of this fic, Luka is five, Abby is four, and Eric is two, as I have no idea what their real ages are in relation to each other. Also, I'm horrible at languages, so anything in Croatian is simply surrounded by *asterisks*. Enjoy!))
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lana Kovac and her husband had planned this trip down to the last detail. They'd wanted to take their son to see America, and they'd left nothing to chance. Every instant of their visit was scheduled.
This, of course, was why her husband's car had broken down when he was on his way to the airport to pick up their misplaced luggage.
And this, in turn, was why she was standing in line at 'Sally's Friendly Day-Care' with her son.
The man standing behind the counter was definitely not Sally, but he grunted at her in what was presumably a welcoming fashion. "You a regular?"
She shook her head.
Another grunt. "How long'll you be gone?"
"I...I am not sure," she replied nervously.
He let out a heavy, put-upon sigh. "Fine. We'll take good care of him, Mrs..."
"Kovac," she filled in as he took up a clipboard.
"Ko - " he furrowed his brow. "You spell that C-O-V-A-K?"
Lana rubbed her temple slightly. "K-O-V-A-C."
"Ah. What's Junior's name?"
She frowned a bit. Junior? At her expression, he pointed at her son.
"His name's Luka."
~
Luka Kovac bit his lip as his mom knelt down beside him.
"*Honey, I have to go get daddy right now, but I'll be back really soon. You have fun with the other kids, okay?*"
Solemnly, he nodded. His mom put on a smile, tousling his dark hair. "*Want ice cream when we get back?*"
That got a little smile out of him. He liked that stuff; he'd had it for the first time yesterday, at the airport.
"*Be good, Luka.*" With that, Lana Kovac rose, pausing at the door to look back. Stoically, he waved; she waved back, and was gone.
The big man at the table was glaring at him. "G'wan, shoo."
Luka frowned, uncomprehending, and the man muttered something about 'foreigners' under his breath, then exaggeratedly waved an arm at him. Slightly bewildered, Luka turned, looking out into the big part of the room. His mom had said to play with the other kids. There were a lot of them. One group was building something, with bright-colored blocks that his eyes were instantly drawn to.
Making his way over, nearly tripping over a discarded rag doll, he reached for the nearest piece that was blue, his favorite color. "*Can I play*?" he asked softly, looking around the group.
The one nearest him, a pudgy boy with red hair and freckles, looked up at him, frowning. "Speak English, willya?" he snapped, lisping a bit on a missing front tooth.
A bit uncertain, he dropped the block. His mom had said that Americans 'spoke English', but she hadn't told him much about how to do it. Searching his brain, he finally blurted "Dog." - which he seemed to remember was an English word.
The red-haired boy looked back at him, rolling his eyes. "They're blocks, dummy." And he turned his back in clear dismissal.
Taken aback, Luka turned as well, scanning the room with wide eyes. More big bunches of kids, everywhere, and he was leery of going up to another one. In one corner, however, there was a girl in a battered rocking chair, a younger boy perched on the floor beside her. Somewhat encouraged, he headed over.
~
Abigail Wyczenski, who was already ignoring anyone who refused to call her Abby, was leaning back in her chair, concentrating intently on the big wooden beads she was stringing, when she heard footsteps. She looked up...then she looked up farther. Finally, she met the dark eyes of the boy standing in front of her. He didn't look much older than she was, but he was big and gangly.
"You're tall," she informed him, by way of greeting. He frowned at her, however.
"*Does everyone talk like this*?" he asked, in some language she didn't know. Spanish, maybe, or German...or something. Her mom said she was too young for languages.
"Well, I'm Abby," she informed him, pointing to herself, then to her brother. "And he's Eric. We have to stay here while our mom's in the hos- pal."
The last bit seemed lost on him, but he looked at each in turn, saying "Abby? Eric?" with a hint of a smile. "Luka." and he pointed to himself in turn.
"Hi, Luka," she said, smiling in return. "Wanna play doctor?"
He followed her pointing finger to the rumpled black plastic bag on the floor beside her, picking it up. "Doctor?" he clarified, holding it out to her.
"Yep," she said, opening the top and pulling out a long, hard gray thing. She frowned hard, trying to recall her last check-up. "And that's a seth- scope. You do it like this," and she shrugged her neck into it, pushing the plastic circle into his chest as he looked down at it. She bit her lip, not remembering what was supposed to come next, and reached back into the bag. There was another gray thing, this one made of cloth, with a black tube attached. "Give me your arm," she requested, turning it over.
He frowned at her, and she plucked at his sleeve. "That's your arm."
He held it out, looking at it as if seeing it for the first time, as she wrapped the cloth thing - the 'cuff', she remembered - around it, pressing on the sticky stuff to hold it on. Fumbling for the black ball at the end of the tube, she squeezed it a few times, then took it off. "You're okay," she informed him professionally.
He grinned at her. "Okay."
~
"*Luka, sweetie, time to go,*" Lana called, wading into the room full of children as she searched for her son. He was off in the corner, next to a little girl and a toddler. There was a blood-pressure cuff around one arm, and fluffy bandages all down the other. She crossed the room to him, and all three looked up, startled.
"*My mama*," he informed the little girl, pointing at Lana as she choked back a laugh. "*And that's a doctor, and that's a seth-scope, and that's Eric, and that's Abby.*"
"*I think you have to leave that stuff here*," she told him gently, pulling off the cuff and bandages. "*And you can't bring your new friends along, either, so say bye*."
Solemnly, Luka turned to the others. "Bye, Eric - bye, Abby."
The toddler gurgled happily at him, and Abby - to Lana's surprise and clearly to her son's - hugged him tightly. "Bye, Luka."
Lana waited for the heated exclamation - her son was one of those boys who avoided girls like the plague - but he only blushed as the dark-haired girl let go.
Struggling to contain a grin, Lana took her son's hand, gently tugging him away from, she thought nostalgically, his first 'girlfriend'.
She had no way of knowing that, over twenty years later, she would be his last.
"Write a Luby fanfic in a different age. Could be Luka and Abby in the 60's, Luka and Abby in the ice age, Luka and Abby in the future, Luka and Abby as little kids. Surprise us."
For the purposes of this fic, Luka is five, Abby is four, and Eric is two, as I have no idea what their real ages are in relation to each other. Also, I'm horrible at languages, so anything in Croatian is simply surrounded by *asterisks*. Enjoy!))
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lana Kovac and her husband had planned this trip down to the last detail. They'd wanted to take their son to see America, and they'd left nothing to chance. Every instant of their visit was scheduled.
This, of course, was why her husband's car had broken down when he was on his way to the airport to pick up their misplaced luggage.
And this, in turn, was why she was standing in line at 'Sally's Friendly Day-Care' with her son.
The man standing behind the counter was definitely not Sally, but he grunted at her in what was presumably a welcoming fashion. "You a regular?"
She shook her head.
Another grunt. "How long'll you be gone?"
"I...I am not sure," she replied nervously.
He let out a heavy, put-upon sigh. "Fine. We'll take good care of him, Mrs..."
"Kovac," she filled in as he took up a clipboard.
"Ko - " he furrowed his brow. "You spell that C-O-V-A-K?"
Lana rubbed her temple slightly. "K-O-V-A-C."
"Ah. What's Junior's name?"
She frowned a bit. Junior? At her expression, he pointed at her son.
"His name's Luka."
~
Luka Kovac bit his lip as his mom knelt down beside him.
"*Honey, I have to go get daddy right now, but I'll be back really soon. You have fun with the other kids, okay?*"
Solemnly, he nodded. His mom put on a smile, tousling his dark hair. "*Want ice cream when we get back?*"
That got a little smile out of him. He liked that stuff; he'd had it for the first time yesterday, at the airport.
"*Be good, Luka.*" With that, Lana Kovac rose, pausing at the door to look back. Stoically, he waved; she waved back, and was gone.
The big man at the table was glaring at him. "G'wan, shoo."
Luka frowned, uncomprehending, and the man muttered something about 'foreigners' under his breath, then exaggeratedly waved an arm at him. Slightly bewildered, Luka turned, looking out into the big part of the room. His mom had said to play with the other kids. There were a lot of them. One group was building something, with bright-colored blocks that his eyes were instantly drawn to.
Making his way over, nearly tripping over a discarded rag doll, he reached for the nearest piece that was blue, his favorite color. "*Can I play*?" he asked softly, looking around the group.
The one nearest him, a pudgy boy with red hair and freckles, looked up at him, frowning. "Speak English, willya?" he snapped, lisping a bit on a missing front tooth.
A bit uncertain, he dropped the block. His mom had said that Americans 'spoke English', but she hadn't told him much about how to do it. Searching his brain, he finally blurted "Dog." - which he seemed to remember was an English word.
The red-haired boy looked back at him, rolling his eyes. "They're blocks, dummy." And he turned his back in clear dismissal.
Taken aback, Luka turned as well, scanning the room with wide eyes. More big bunches of kids, everywhere, and he was leery of going up to another one. In one corner, however, there was a girl in a battered rocking chair, a younger boy perched on the floor beside her. Somewhat encouraged, he headed over.
~
Abigail Wyczenski, who was already ignoring anyone who refused to call her Abby, was leaning back in her chair, concentrating intently on the big wooden beads she was stringing, when she heard footsteps. She looked up...then she looked up farther. Finally, she met the dark eyes of the boy standing in front of her. He didn't look much older than she was, but he was big and gangly.
"You're tall," she informed him, by way of greeting. He frowned at her, however.
"*Does everyone talk like this*?" he asked, in some language she didn't know. Spanish, maybe, or German...or something. Her mom said she was too young for languages.
"Well, I'm Abby," she informed him, pointing to herself, then to her brother. "And he's Eric. We have to stay here while our mom's in the hos- pal."
The last bit seemed lost on him, but he looked at each in turn, saying "Abby? Eric?" with a hint of a smile. "Luka." and he pointed to himself in turn.
"Hi, Luka," she said, smiling in return. "Wanna play doctor?"
He followed her pointing finger to the rumpled black plastic bag on the floor beside her, picking it up. "Doctor?" he clarified, holding it out to her.
"Yep," she said, opening the top and pulling out a long, hard gray thing. She frowned hard, trying to recall her last check-up. "And that's a seth- scope. You do it like this," and she shrugged her neck into it, pushing the plastic circle into his chest as he looked down at it. She bit her lip, not remembering what was supposed to come next, and reached back into the bag. There was another gray thing, this one made of cloth, with a black tube attached. "Give me your arm," she requested, turning it over.
He frowned at her, and she plucked at his sleeve. "That's your arm."
He held it out, looking at it as if seeing it for the first time, as she wrapped the cloth thing - the 'cuff', she remembered - around it, pressing on the sticky stuff to hold it on. Fumbling for the black ball at the end of the tube, she squeezed it a few times, then took it off. "You're okay," she informed him professionally.
He grinned at her. "Okay."
~
"*Luka, sweetie, time to go,*" Lana called, wading into the room full of children as she searched for her son. He was off in the corner, next to a little girl and a toddler. There was a blood-pressure cuff around one arm, and fluffy bandages all down the other. She crossed the room to him, and all three looked up, startled.
"*My mama*," he informed the little girl, pointing at Lana as she choked back a laugh. "*And that's a doctor, and that's a seth-scope, and that's Eric, and that's Abby.*"
"*I think you have to leave that stuff here*," she told him gently, pulling off the cuff and bandages. "*And you can't bring your new friends along, either, so say bye*."
Solemnly, Luka turned to the others. "Bye, Eric - bye, Abby."
The toddler gurgled happily at him, and Abby - to Lana's surprise and clearly to her son's - hugged him tightly. "Bye, Luka."
Lana waited for the heated exclamation - her son was one of those boys who avoided girls like the plague - but he only blushed as the dark-haired girl let go.
Struggling to contain a grin, Lana took her son's hand, gently tugging him away from, she thought nostalgically, his first 'girlfriend'.
She had no way of knowing that, over twenty years later, she would be his last.
