Abby sipped her coffee. They weren't talking again. Luka had finally let her wrap his arm, and put it in a sling. It didn't seem to do much for the pain, but it did keep him from moving it too much.

They hadn't eaten much lunch, but Luka was working on his third beer. It also didn't seem to be doing much. Earlier, the alcohol had relaxed them, but now, Luka seemed to be growing more broody, snippier, with every bottle. Which just made Abby feel worse too, made that case of beer look more and more attractive. It was, after all, all her fault.

The bright day made it possible to read, at least close to the windows, but Abby wasn't in the mood, and neither, apparently was Luka. Luka just sat and nursed his beer. And Abby just sat, trying to think of something she could do make him feel better. Something to take his mind off his pain.

She finally got up and went again to the aquarium. The fish were still there, of course. Neither Abby nor Luka had yet gotten around to doing anything about them.

"We could give them a proper funeral," she said.

Luka just looked at her for a minute. "What?"

She shrugged. "It's something to do. I mean, something more interesting than staring at the wall all afternoon. Now, if you have a better idea ...."

"No, I don't," Luka said. He sighed, then smiled a little, for the first time in quite a few hours. "Sure ... what the hell." He joined her by the fish tank. "This should be interesting."

"I'm not promising that," Abby replied. "Just that it will beat what we've been doing." Going to the kitchen for a bowl, she went on, "Do they have names?"

"Nine year olds name fish, Abby."

"Well, if we're going to do this right, they need names."

"So, name them."

"They're not my fish!"

A wicked grin. "Ok ... umm ... that one's Carter ...."

"Luka!" But Abby couldn't help laughing. This was going to be fun.

"Ok, ok. Let's see ... Jedan ... Dva ... Tri ... and ... Cetiri."

"Which means what? Or shouldn't I ask?"

"One, two, three, and four." He shrugged. "It's not like they care, Abby."

"True. So, which is which?"

Luka reached into the tank and took out a fish. "Jedan." He grinned at her again. "Remember that." Dropping the fish into the bowl she held, he reached for another. "And this one is Dva ... damn this water's cold."

"Which probably explains why they are dead."

"And this one is Tri. And Cetiri." He looked at her. "Now what?"

"Into the bathroom, of course."

Abby sat down on the bathroom floor, and Luka plopped down beside her. And she couldn't think of what to do next. The initial idea had just popped out, and she realized that she was making this up as she went along. Luka looked at her, a smile playing around the edges of his mouth.

"And?" he said after a minute.

"Just give me a minute," Abby said. "I'm trying to compose a suitable eulogy."

Luka got up and hurried out, returning a moment later with the case of beer. "Maybe this will help?"

Abby looked at the case. She really had not wanted to do this. But Luka was clearly going to be pretty drunk before the afternoon was out. No harm in joining him. Just this once. She took a bottle and opened it, took a long swallow. He was right, it did help.

She took the first fish out of the bowl and held it by the tail, suspended over the toilet.

"Ok ... ummm ... " she made her voice sound serious and solemn -- tough to do with Luka looking like he was about to burst out laughing any second now. "We are here to mourn the passing of ... ummm ... Ledem ..." And Luka did burst out laughing. "What?" Abby protested.

"Jedan," Luka corrected, wiping his eyes. "And I think that one is actually Tri."

"Whatever. Do I want to know what I said?"

"Leden. It means ... ummm ... icy."

"Appropriate, I think."

Luka just leaned back comfortably against the wall. "So, go on."

Abby took another long swallow from the bottle and went on. "The passing of Jedan, who ... ummm ... was a good fish, even though he never fetched the newspaper and, thankfully, never tried to sleep in anyone's bed. He never peed on the carpet, or scratched the furniture. And he never complained about his life in a fishbowl.

"We now commit the body of Jedan to the Chicago Sewers ... but we know that his fishy spirit is happily swimming in some heavenly coral reef."

She let the fish drop into the toilet, and flushed. "Your turn."

"Oh no! I'm having much too much fun listening to you."

"Come on, Luka, they're your fish. This is straining my creative abilities."

"Ok." Luka gave an exaggerated sigh, and picked up the second fish. He began to talk. In Croatian.

"No fair," protested Abby. "How do I know what you're saying."

"You don't. You'll just have to trust me. I assure you that it is a truly moving and heartbreaking eulogy, and that the congregation is wailing and sobbing." He returned to speaking in Croatian, in a profoundly 'moving' tone of voice. One that, Abby thought, made Carter's rendition of 'Hamlet' sound almost understated. He spoke for another minute or so, then dropped and flushed. And grinned at her. "Trust me, Abby," he said again. "It was a touching eulogy."

By the they got to the last fish, they were both laughing too hard to continue. Luka could hardly get out his second Croatian eulogy through fits of laughter. Abby was on her fourth beer. She'd lost count of how many Luka had had.

It really was too bad about the fish, she thought, but she hadn't had this much fun in ages. Certainly not since she and Luka had broken up. She looked at him for a minute. It was good to see him having a good time too. Good to see him smiling, hear him laughing.

And Lordy ... he did look good, she thought. Most men looked straggly and unkept with a 3 day growth of beard. But Luka looked terrific. He always did.

Abby suddenly trembled a little, but not from the cold. The relationship had had it's problems from the start. They really didn't belong together, were not a good couple. But one part of the relationship had always been good .... 'Stop it, Abby,' she told herself again. 'What is wrong with you? It's the beer talking, not you.' They could be friends now, she knew. Not a damn thing wrong with being friends. She didn't want him anymore!

"Something wrong?" Luka asked, interrupting her thoughts. And she realized that she'd stopped laughing, stopped smiling.

"No, I'm fine. I guess we're done here?"

"Yup. Cetiri has been sent to his eternal rest."

The room was getting dark. It was getting late. "I guess we should see about supper, then?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

With his injured arm, Luka couldn't even strike a match, so Abby lit the candles and started the fire for supper. Canned soup again, and coffee, and toast, made in a pan this time. And, for Abby, another beer.

Luka frowned a little, looking at the bottle. "Haven't you had enough?"

"I've had less than you," she reminded him. "A lot less. Besides. We'll be going to bed soon. We'll stay warm." Let the beer talk. Would she listen? "How's your arm?"

"It still hurts some." He hesitated. "I think you were right. I think I did break something. But it'll keep."

He wasn't smiling anymore. Abby kicked herself for bringing up the subject. "Come on, Luka, what did you say about the fish. What were you saying in Croatian?"

And he smiled again, leaned back in his chair. "I praised his beauty ... his kindness ... his beautiful brown eyes ... how pretty he looked when he smiled ...." And Abby felt herself blushing. Then Luka laughed. "Actually, the first one was the Croatian national anthem. The second was another passage from Hamlet."

"You cheated!" Abby said, laughing. "Not fair, not fair!"

"But it was beautiful. You can't deny that it was beautiful."

Abby could only laugh, and look at Luka's face, smiling in the warm candlelight.