[A really short chapter. But the next one was getting really long, and this was the only practical place to split it. So tomorrow you get a longish chapter to make up for this one.]

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

Susan looked at her watch. 3:45. He would be there now. The appointment would be almost over. She couldn't help picturing him in the psychiatrist's office. Would he be talking quietly, without much emotion, as he tended to do with her? Or crying, perhaps? What would Dr. McGrath be saying? Doing? It had to make a difference, it had to. Luka couldn't go on much longer the way he was, so unhappy. He'd been nervous this morning about the appointment, scared. But he had said that he was eager to go, anxious to get this started.

The past three nights in bed had been replays of the first. Luka would touch her, caress her, kiss her, bring her to orgasm. It was ... nice. But it was also, Susan had to admit, more than a little bit weird. It was hard for her to lie there and not touch him, not caress him back -- not hold him. And, despite Luka's protests, his claims that it was 'ok' and 'fun,' it was obvious that he was doing it only for her. While it didn't seem to bother him particularly to touch her, he went at it like it was some sort of duty -- the male equivilent, perhaps, of lying back and thinking of England? He seemed to need to do it; trying, maybe to prove something to himself, so she let him, but it wasn't really what she wanted. Hopefully the counseling would make a difference. Soon.

Susan sighed. She had work to do. A waiting room full of patients to see. She headed back into trauma 2, where Abby was tending her MVA from earlier in the afternoon, still waiting for a bed in the ICU.

"How's Luka doing?" Abby asked quietly.

"He's good. You could pick up the phone and call him, you know."

"I know. It's just ... awkward."

"Awkward why? Because of me, or because he's sick?"

"Neither one, Susan. It's just been so long. He didn't want to see me, and then just when he said he wanted to be friends again, he was diagnosed. He's hardly been at work ... there's nothing to talk about." She made a helpless gesture with her hands. "Ok. I'll call him. I promise."

"Don't knock yourself out on my account," Susan said, more than a little bit bitterly. "Nobody else has either, really." The truth. Carter stopped by from time to time, called occassionally. But besides him, they had little company. "I just thought you liked him."

"I do." Abby busied herself with their patient for a moment, then asked, "Any idea when he'll be back to work?"

"No. Soon we hope." Susan looked at the chart. "Call the ICU again. Find out when they can take her. We can't tie up trauma rooms boarding their patients indefinitely!"