A/N- Chapter three guys! This one is dedicated to all affected by "Touch and Go". I don't wanna mention any events in case any saintly Spoilerfrees are reading this. Thanks go out to: Gooders and Noodles, as always guys, you quite simply rock. Matchbox Twenty for "Kody" lyrics. My trusty pathology books- I always knew I'd find a use for them one day! And also I can't go on any longer without thanking Roget's Thesaurus which has gotten me out of a few sticky moments.



"So please hand me a bottle
I think I'm lonely now
And please give me direction
I think the hurt set in
and I don't feel nothing, yet"

It's 8:23 and I'm running up to Luka's apartment. I hope he's accepted my inability to run on time by now. He's clearly been looking out for me as he opens the door before I reach it.

"Sorry," I say hurriedly, stepping over the threshold, "the supermarket was heaving and then traffic was bad and naturally it started raining…"

He cuts me off with a light laugh. "No matter, the lasagne's only slightly burnt."

I half-smile and hope he's joking, I'm never quite sure with this man.

It turns out that he was teasing and the pasta is delicious. As we're doing the dishes my cell phone rings. I scramble around in my purse, finally locating the source of the noise and hitting the call button.

"Abby?"

It's John.

"Hey, I reply."

"I thought you'd want to know that neuro have been back to see your mom. They've given her a cat scan but obviously they won't tell me anything 'cause I'm not next of kin or her doctor."

"Okay," I say, "did you go up to see her?"

"Yeah."

"How is she?" I ask.

"No change yet, I'm sorry."

I nod my head slowly.

"Okay, thanks, see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

I put down the phone and walk back to the sink.

"Who was it?" Luka asks, plate in hand.

I pick up the cloth and resume washing the dishes. The water's turned cold.
"Carter," I reply shortly.

His face tightens and he places the plate on the pile with excessive force.

"I'm surprised he still has things to tell you."

I look up at him quizzically, "what's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs, "Just you see him a lot, no? Amazing he still finds things he hasn't talked to you about already."

"Luka, he was calling about Maggie," I spit. Just because we never manage to have a coherent conversation about anything of significance, doesn't mean I'm vocally inept.

"Oh, okay," he says relenting a little before adding, "I guess he'd know."

What is he getting at? I glare at him sternly.

"I mean he was with you at the time it happened," he explains.

Oh for God's sake. "You're still mad about that?" I ask, exasperated.

"It's just, I want to help you too Abby," he says sorrowfully.

He can start by getting off my case; but I think he means well. "I know."

Breaking eye contact, I turn back to the suds in front of me.

A half hour later we're sat on the couch, watching some horrifically violent movie that Luka picked out. Doesn't he see enough GSWs in the ER? I think back to Carter's phone call and make a mental note to track down the specialist tomorrow. Rubbing my eyes sleepily I yawn and attempt to follow the scatty plot of the film. Luka curls up closer to me and lightly turns my face towards his before leaning down to kiss me. I respond, but it's half-hearted; I'm too preoccupied with thoughts of my mother. He begins to trail butterfly kisses down my neck and unfastens the first few buttons of my shirt. But I'm really not in the mood.

Extricating myself from him, I stand and announce that I'm going to bed.

He raises an eyebrow at this which instantly falls again as he sees my expression. This wasn't a seductive suggestion. He tells me he's going to watch the end of the movie and I nod, bid him goodnight and walk away.

***********************************************************

The next morning sees me back at work. It's busy and I'm glad of the distraction but the rest of the staff are walking on eggshells around me. I know their intentions are good but it's beginning to get irritating.

As I'm walking down the hallway Carter spots me and asks me to assist.

"How come you got stuck working the eight o'clock after twelve till twelve the day before?" I ask him.

He shrugs, "born lucky I guess," he says sarcastically.

I follow him into an exam room and see a young girl of around sixteen laid on the bed.

"This is Abby," John tells the girl, "She's a nurse who's gonna help me out, okay?"

The girl nods tentatively.

"Abby," he begins, turning to face me, "this is Julia, she's complaining of lower abdominal pain and fever," turning back to the girl he asks, "is it okay if I examine you?"

She nods again in consent and Carter begins to press gently on her belly. He reaches a critical spot and the girl winces.

"Pain in the right iliac fossa," he tells me.

I approach the girl and tell her I'm going to take her temperature. Gently, I place the thermometer into her ear and wait for the beep. "She's pyrexic," I inform Carter, "101.5 0F."

"Does it hurt when you pee, Julia?" he asks.

"Yeah," she replies, "and I need to go all the time."
He looks up at me.

"UTI?" I ask.

He nods, "Yup. Julia, I think you have what's called cystitis, a urinary tract infection usually caused by bacteria. I'm going to give you some antibiotics but you need to keep drinking too, it helps flush the bugs out."

"Cranberry juice," I add.

He smiles, "Yeah, cranberry juice is good. Are you allergic to any medication Julia?"

She shakes her head.

"Okay, let's give her some trimethoprim," he states, addressing me again.

"And is there any chance you could be pregnant?" he asks the young girl.

"I'd be a major religious figure if I was."

Carter and I share a grin.

"How's that work, anyway? The cranberry juice thing," I ask him as we walk into the hall and leave Julia to get dressed.

"Well it used to be thought that it acidified the urine and so made conditions less favourable for the bacteria. However, that theory's been scrapped more recently and now it's believed that tannins in the juice inhibit the pathogenic E.coli pili from binding to the bladder epithelium."

"Good to know," I say.

We approach the drug lock up and I enter to retrieve the antibiotic. He follows me in.

"How are you holding up with being back at work?"

"I'm okay," I tell him, "I just wish everyone would stop treating me like I'm made of glass."

"They're just concerned about you Abby."

I exhale loudly, "I know."
He asks after Maggie and I tell him that I'm meeting the neurologist at midday.

"Do you wanna catch some lunch when I get back?" I inquire.

"Sure, just come find me."

***********************************************************

"So what did she say exactly?" he asks, taking a bite of his sandwich.

It's a little after one o'clock, Carter and I are seated in a familiar booth in Doc Magoos and I'm relating back the conversation I've just had with the neurologist.

"Nothing that I didn't already know. Maggie's chances of waking up are fairly remote." My voice catches on the last word and I shovel a forkful of salad into my mouth in an attempt to hide it.

He notices. "People disprove doctors' prognoses all of the time."

I smile tightly, "one can only hope, right?"

We continue eating in silence for a few minutes.

I take a long sip of my coffee before telling him, "Eric called me."

He looks up from his food, "when?"

"This morning, just after I saw you. He's getting a flight here tomorrow morning."

"When did you last see him?" Carter asks.

"Probably last Christmas."

"So it'll be nice to see him," he comments, now eating blueberry pie.

Thoughts of my baby brother make me smile and I follow Carter's lead and take a spoonful of the pie we're sharing.

"I just wish it was under more favourable circumstances," I add with a sigh.

A few moments later we're finished eating and I'm staring out of the window at the drizzling rain.

"Do you want to go see a movie tonight?" Carter asks, bringing me back to reality.

I mull the suggestion over in my head. I know he's being sweet and trying to keep me occupied. I'm tired but know that even if I try to get an early night I won't sleep, so why not?

"Sure, what's playing?"

"I've no idea," he admits, "have a look at the listings for the Music Box and pick something out, my shout."

I smile up at him warmly. Thirty minutes with this man and I already feel a little better about things. "Okay," I agree, before we get the cheque and head back to the ER.

Two hours later I'm dealing with a rather unsociable demerol junkie and step into the lounge hoping for two minutes' respite. No such luck.

"Abby," shouts Haleh, sticking her head through the doorway, "GSW five minutes out."

"What about my irritable IVDU?" I ask.

"Let him rant and rave as much as he likes, they need you in trauma one."

Shaking the cobwebs from my brain, I head off to meet the rest of the team.

Luka's the attending on the case and he smiles at me as I walk into the room.

"How did it go with the neurologist?" he asks.

"Fine," I reply, not really feeling inclined to explain the details, especially with other people around.

He grabs a yellow gown and starts putting it on. I follow his lead and take one for myself.

"That play you wanted to see is on at the Goodman tonight," he tells me.

"I can't tonight Luka, sorry."

"But I already booked the tickets," he exclaims.

"Then you should have asked me first," I reply, meeting his eyes.

"So where are you going?" he asks as the patient bursts through the double doors on a gurney accompanied by two EMTs.

I look away before answering, "I told Carter I'd do something with him tonight."

"Again?"

Our conversation is interrupted by a briefing from Dolores. The gunshot wound is to the chest and the guy needs intubating.

"Well I didn't know you wanted to do something tonight," I tell Luka as I draw up the etomidate and suxamethonium he requires.

"Would it have mattered if you did?" he asks spitefully, as he picks out the size of ET tube he wants.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I see Chuny glance sideways at us, watching the argument unfold.

"Just that you appear to prefer Carter's company at the moment."

"At least he doesn't pick a fight with me every time I can't do what he wants," I reply.

Luka opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by Romano's entrance.

He clearly heard my last statement as he remarks, "Ms. Lockhart, there will be no fighting here please, unless it involves some skimpy bathing suits and large amount of mud. Now, what do we have here?"

But before anyone can begin to give him an answer, the patient crashes.

***********************************************************

The next time I look at the clock it's five thirty. I've been officially off-duty for a half hour. Relieved, I collect my belongings from the lounge and clock out. The GSW victim didn't make it, my junkie left AMA and I'm about ready to drop.

Once I'm at home I look up the listings for the Music Box and discover they have an eight o'clock showing of "When Harry Met Sally". I love that movie so I call up Carter and he tells me he'll pick me up at seven thirty.

I make some dinner, change my clothes and before I know it, he's knocking on my door.

"You're making me watch a romantic comedy?" he asks, teasing.

I grab my coat, purse and keys and reply, "we can go see something else if you'd prefer."

"No, I told you to choose, I should have expected as much." I can see a slight twinkle in his eye, he loves playing with me.

I roll my eyes, step out into the hallway and lock the door.
"And you know, I wouldn't admit this to anyone else, but I kinda dig that movie."

"I always knew there was a sensitive soul in there just waiting to jump out," I tell him, as we walk down the stairs.

"Well just don't make it common knowledge," he adds, winking.

The theatre is warm and cosy despite being fairly empty. John rustles his popcorn as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb. Harry and Sally have just gone on a double date, only to be left alone by their respective partners leaving together in a cab. Despite my deep love for the film, I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. I didn't get much sleep the night before and work really took things out of me. I try to keep my gaze fixed on the screen but exhaustion wins out and my eyelids close.

The next thing I know, Carter is leaning over me, softly calling my name. I sleepily open my eyes to discover that the film has ended, the house lights are up and John has an amused expression on his face.

"Now, I know you adore the movie, so I can only conclude that my company is soporific."

"Sorry," I mumble, "I'm just so tired."

He shakes his head grinning, "it's not a problem Abby." He offers his hand and helps me to my feet. "Come on, let's get you home."

The journey home is uneventful and we reach my apartment building quickly. Carter parks up and walks me to my apartment. I fumble for my keys, eventually finding them and turning the bolt.

"Thanks Carter," I say, "do you want to come in for a coffee?"

He responds with, "I think you need to go to bed."

I nod, accepting. Yet I hesitate before going in. I don't want to be here alone. My cold, dark apartment, full of my dying mother's things. But I can't bring myself to ask John to stay. I don't have the courage and I can't expect him to be away from home for another night just for me. So instead I bid him goodbye, open the door and walk inside, to where temptation waits…