Disclaimer: I don't own any of the ER characters, I just like to have fun
with them
Flipping a blonde curl over her shoulder, Megan checked the reflection in her compact one last time before making a beeline to the man at the bar.
He was darkly handsome: attractive, well-built, and with that whisper of grey at the temples she found so irresistible.
"Hey there," her voice was husky, but she managed to give it a coy hint.
He glanced at her briefly, muttered something unintelligible, and went back to focusing on his beer bottle.
But she was not to be put off so easily, especially after hearing that marvelous accent.
"My name is Megan," she offered him a hand.
"Luka," he replied, declining the offer of her hand.
A cell phone rang then, cutting through the awkwardness in the air.
"Ummm, I think that's you," she smiled, leaning in as though sharing a secret. Realization suddenly dawning on him, he fumbled urgently for the phone.
"Hello?" His tone was hopeful, somehow.
Megan's eyebrows rose curiously as she listened to his end of the conversation, and caught faint tones of the female voice on the other end.
"Oh, hey."
"No, I'm not disappointed..
"I'm sorry, I completely forgot..
"Well, if that's what you think..
"I haven't offered because I don't know when I will be free.
"Look, this just isn't the time.
"Yeah, that would probably be best."
He looked at Megan almost sheepishly as he hung up. She responded by rolling her eyes and walking away.
Luka returned his attention to his bottle, barely noticing Megan's retreating form.
He hated to drink fast. The carbonation would combine with the bitter flavor of any beer and burn as it made its way down his esophagus; he could still feel it in his stomach hours later. But that did not stop him from slamming down the rest of his beverage.
Why couldn't the phone call have been from Abby?
"I don't even want an explanation, just tell me where you are and I'll come get you. Just tell me where," he uttered to no one in particular; the statement earned him a fleeting glance from the bartender, but no more. "I just want you safe at home."
Abruptly, he straightened on the barstool. He had not checked her apartment yet! Not that he really expected her to be there, but it was something more that he could do, something better than just sitting around and letting his mind fill with worry. Her landlord had called just the other day, perhaps there was a chance she had gone back there.
Slapping some bills down on the counter, he made for the door, and into the brisk night.
****
Once he was there, Luka did not quite understand why he had come. He lurked in the hallway, pacing between Abby's door and Bryan's, staring at the key in his hand.
To give the key back would have made the end of their relationship too tangible, so he just never did.
This is foolish, he chastised himself. What are you going to accomplish by going in there? Nothing!
An elderly woman pushed past his Warder's gait, looking at him strangely. She opened her mouth as thought to speak, and then seemed to think the better of it, moving on to her own green door.
I will feel better, he rationalized - and it will let me be close to her again.
Ultimately giving in to the temptation, Luka slowly turned the key in the lock, feeling every tumbler slide into place.
Upon pushing open the door, the stale air hit him like a wall: it could have knocked him over with the force of its scent, full of Abby and slowly passing days.
Everything was as she had left it, down to the open bottle of wine on the end table next to her couch. A drop of blood on her throw rug caught his eye, and Luka felt his heart miss a beat.
Emotions rushed back to him anew, and all he knew was a blind desire to track Abby down, to fill the void in his heart. The desperate need overrode all logic, and before he knew it, Luka found himself glancing around for her address book.
Maggie would know what the big emergency was, and where he could find Abby. Then again, Maggie might turn out to be the emergency, but either way he would find answers. And that was exactly what his tormented mind demanded.
He ran his fingers along the bindings of the books on her shelf, until he at last found what appeared to be an address book. Pulling the medium-sized binder away from its neighbors, he stepped toward the phone.
Upon opening the pale green volume, though, he froze. Just inside the front cover was an envelope with his name on it.
Self-consciously, he glanced around. He could read it if it was meant for him. couldn't he? Despite being alone in the apartment, he felt a growing nervousness, as though he were about to get caught doing something wrong. He tore open the envelope anyway.
It was a birthday card.
His heart sank through the floor. His birthday had passed just a scant few days after they separated in September. She must have purchased the card further in advance. Swallowing hard, he opened it.
Luka,
I know I haven't always been the best at communicating with you, so I want you to understand just how much you mean to me. Your kindness and patience through the last year have been immeasurable. Happy birthday, and thank you.
Love Always,
Abby.
He doubted anyone could have planned a more perfect trigger for the tremendous sense of guilt he already felt about their relationship. As he closed his eyes, he could almost sense her presence in the apartment: the soft scent of her shampoo, faint traces of her favorite coffee and laundry detergent.
Quiet noises from the hallway and the next apartment grew louder in the darkness of his mind, until he had to open his eyes again.
The thoughtful message in the card seemed almost out of character for her, the expression of feeling that lay within. But perhaps that was why she had chosen to express it in a written medium, rather than actually saying anything to him. Of course, after their break up they had communicated neither verbally nor in writing.
He sat down on the couch, lost in thought, barely noticing the lightening sky.
Footsteps in the hallway barely penetrated his reverie until the noticed them stop in front of her door. A key once again made its way into the lock, and the door open to reveal a disheveled Abby.
"Luka?" Her eyes were confused. "What are you doing here?"
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Today was just a day fading into another,
And that can't be what a life is for.
The Counting Crows, "Another Horsedreamer's Blues"
Flipping a blonde curl over her shoulder, Megan checked the reflection in her compact one last time before making a beeline to the man at the bar.
He was darkly handsome: attractive, well-built, and with that whisper of grey at the temples she found so irresistible.
"Hey there," her voice was husky, but she managed to give it a coy hint.
He glanced at her briefly, muttered something unintelligible, and went back to focusing on his beer bottle.
But she was not to be put off so easily, especially after hearing that marvelous accent.
"My name is Megan," she offered him a hand.
"Luka," he replied, declining the offer of her hand.
A cell phone rang then, cutting through the awkwardness in the air.
"Ummm, I think that's you," she smiled, leaning in as though sharing a secret. Realization suddenly dawning on him, he fumbled urgently for the phone.
"Hello?" His tone was hopeful, somehow.
Megan's eyebrows rose curiously as she listened to his end of the conversation, and caught faint tones of the female voice on the other end.
"Oh, hey."
"No, I'm not disappointed..
"I'm sorry, I completely forgot..
"Well, if that's what you think..
"I haven't offered because I don't know when I will be free.
"Look, this just isn't the time.
"Yeah, that would probably be best."
He looked at Megan almost sheepishly as he hung up. She responded by rolling her eyes and walking away.
Luka returned his attention to his bottle, barely noticing Megan's retreating form.
He hated to drink fast. The carbonation would combine with the bitter flavor of any beer and burn as it made its way down his esophagus; he could still feel it in his stomach hours later. But that did not stop him from slamming down the rest of his beverage.
Why couldn't the phone call have been from Abby?
"I don't even want an explanation, just tell me where you are and I'll come get you. Just tell me where," he uttered to no one in particular; the statement earned him a fleeting glance from the bartender, but no more. "I just want you safe at home."
Abruptly, he straightened on the barstool. He had not checked her apartment yet! Not that he really expected her to be there, but it was something more that he could do, something better than just sitting around and letting his mind fill with worry. Her landlord had called just the other day, perhaps there was a chance she had gone back there.
Slapping some bills down on the counter, he made for the door, and into the brisk night.
****
Once he was there, Luka did not quite understand why he had come. He lurked in the hallway, pacing between Abby's door and Bryan's, staring at the key in his hand.
To give the key back would have made the end of their relationship too tangible, so he just never did.
This is foolish, he chastised himself. What are you going to accomplish by going in there? Nothing!
An elderly woman pushed past his Warder's gait, looking at him strangely. She opened her mouth as thought to speak, and then seemed to think the better of it, moving on to her own green door.
I will feel better, he rationalized - and it will let me be close to her again.
Ultimately giving in to the temptation, Luka slowly turned the key in the lock, feeling every tumbler slide into place.
Upon pushing open the door, the stale air hit him like a wall: it could have knocked him over with the force of its scent, full of Abby and slowly passing days.
Everything was as she had left it, down to the open bottle of wine on the end table next to her couch. A drop of blood on her throw rug caught his eye, and Luka felt his heart miss a beat.
Emotions rushed back to him anew, and all he knew was a blind desire to track Abby down, to fill the void in his heart. The desperate need overrode all logic, and before he knew it, Luka found himself glancing around for her address book.
Maggie would know what the big emergency was, and where he could find Abby. Then again, Maggie might turn out to be the emergency, but either way he would find answers. And that was exactly what his tormented mind demanded.
He ran his fingers along the bindings of the books on her shelf, until he at last found what appeared to be an address book. Pulling the medium-sized binder away from its neighbors, he stepped toward the phone.
Upon opening the pale green volume, though, he froze. Just inside the front cover was an envelope with his name on it.
Self-consciously, he glanced around. He could read it if it was meant for him. couldn't he? Despite being alone in the apartment, he felt a growing nervousness, as though he were about to get caught doing something wrong. He tore open the envelope anyway.
It was a birthday card.
His heart sank through the floor. His birthday had passed just a scant few days after they separated in September. She must have purchased the card further in advance. Swallowing hard, he opened it.
Luka,
I know I haven't always been the best at communicating with you, so I want you to understand just how much you mean to me. Your kindness and patience through the last year have been immeasurable. Happy birthday, and thank you.
Love Always,
Abby.
He doubted anyone could have planned a more perfect trigger for the tremendous sense of guilt he already felt about their relationship. As he closed his eyes, he could almost sense her presence in the apartment: the soft scent of her shampoo, faint traces of her favorite coffee and laundry detergent.
Quiet noises from the hallway and the next apartment grew louder in the darkness of his mind, until he had to open his eyes again.
The thoughtful message in the card seemed almost out of character for her, the expression of feeling that lay within. But perhaps that was why she had chosen to express it in a written medium, rather than actually saying anything to him. Of course, after their break up they had communicated neither verbally nor in writing.
He sat down on the couch, lost in thought, barely noticing the lightening sky.
Footsteps in the hallway barely penetrated his reverie until the noticed them stop in front of her door. A key once again made its way into the lock, and the door open to reveal a disheveled Abby.
"Luka?" Her eyes were confused. "What are you doing here?"
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Today was just a day fading into another,
And that can't be what a life is for.
The Counting Crows, "Another Horsedreamer's Blues"
