Title: Hotter Than July
Rating: PG-13, but R later on...
Disclaimer: The ER characters do not belong to me, neither do any products, song lyrics or literary quotations mentioned.
Summary: Warm weather, flirtation and a few lessons to be learned. Luby. Sort of AU, sort of not.
Reviews: Thanks for all the reviews so far, please continue to let me know what you think :)
Light, colours, images, pictures trickled across her irises in a vivid stream. She leant harder on the desk, pushing her palm firmly into her cheek, grinding her elbow against the redundant, cold plastic. It was frustrating to be so close to something yet seemingly so far away. Although Luka was immovably in her line of sight, she was too far in the distance to make sense of the conversation he was having with a mysterious woman who was almost tall enough to look him right in the eyes. As her mind constantly endeavoured to ascertain what was going on, not a single thought passed through her troubled consciousness, only her fierce concentration on her subjects prevailed. It was like looking at a painting or photo in a gallery: one image yet a thousand different ways to interpret it. Frankly, somebody would've had to throw quicklime in her eyes to stop her from observing with intent. Finally, Abby was interrupted by a gentle but firm nudge in the ribs.
"Stop staring or your eyes will stay like that," Susan said, wondering why such a simple scene had garnered such attention.
"I wasn't...oh, never mind...it's not even worth it." Abby swiftly abandoned her defence, knowing full well that in this place, you were accused, tried and convicted however much you pleaded your innocence.
"Who's the woman?"
"No idea." She replied nonchalantly, but her body language was far from careless as she tapped her fingers rhythmically against the desk. Reading this,
Susan moved a little closer, and, ensuring nobody was in earshot, whispered "So, what's been going on lately, then?"
"With what?" Although her tone suggested that she was none the wiser, Abby knew, with a frighteningly psychic rush, where this conversation was going. At least she had tried to pretend that this was not the case, it was always worth feigning and fighting against heading down the path that you did not want to take.
"With you and Luka. It's been like me and my shadow over the last few weeks."
Abby smiled at the image, then said objectively, "Nothing. Just coincidence."
Susan laughed dryly. "No such thing. C'mon, tell me. There's been zip all going on all day. I need a little excitement." Her manner was easy, light and convincing. Abby had barely shared these feelings with herself, let alone attempting to vocalise and rationalise them, but the offer to unburden was tempting.
"It'll take more than a few minutes. More like a lifetime." Her words were infused with a trickle of sadness.
"Well, seeing as I'm running the show instead of Wonderwoman, I think we can spare half an hour for some lunch. I'm sure that your shadow can fill in for a while. And don't worry, I'll find out who she is."
Still riddled with a hindering reluctance, but once again finding herself submitting to other people's schemes, Abby replied softly, "Alright, you win. I'll just get my things." Things sounded nicer than cigarettes. She headed for her locker, racing past Luka and his companion like a flash of light, the softness of their goodbyes just catching on her earlobes. Once she had reached the safety of the lounge, she peered over her shoulder to see that he was now conversing with Susan.
"Who's your friend?" She asked immediately, remembering the pledge that she had made moments ago.
Momentarily, Luka was tempted to ask her why she was so interested but then changed his mind. Not everybody asked questions just for the chance for a cheap dig through your personal life. "My friend's girlfriend. Just passing on a message. Did you want something?"
"Can I ask a favour?" Susan asked cautiously.
"Sure, but I'm off in half an hour, so it'd better be a quick one." Although he was happy to help, he was beginning to feel fatigue creeping up on him.
"Can I leave you with the keys to the city for half an hour? Just going for some lunch."
"No problem. Anything I should know about?" All corners needed to be covered just in case Weaver should appear from the ether.
In turn, Susan considered the question carefully. "You'd better keep an eye on Pratt, the weather's making him a little hyperactive. We don't want any lawsuits." Luka folded his arms protectively and smiled.
"Oh, and the Elvis impersonator in five. If he gets any louder, it's probably best to sedate him."
He grinned a little harder. "What's wrong with him? Does he have a wooden heart or a suspicious mind?"
She laughed, beginning to see that he was not just pleasing on the eye.
"No, someone set fire to his wig." She corrected, yet only unknowingly paving the way for another joke.
"That will teach him to give concerts in the ghetto." He could not resist the temptation to inject a little more humour.
She laughed again, more than a little surprised. "As much as I'd love to play this game all day, I'm getting kinda hungry. Page me if it gets heavy."
Unable to think of any other Elvis related jokes, Luka decided it was time to give in. "OK, that's fine. Go, have lunch." Susan gave in too, his voice so gentle and persuasive, she collected Abby and left, without feeling even the slightest ounce of guilt.
Soon enough, a loud and out of tune wailing was grating against Luka's eardrums. The strains of Don't Be Cruel filtered through the busy air. Cruel?? More like torture, he thought. Deciding that Susan's advice was definitely not to be ignored, he took action immediately. Shaking his head in amusement and disbelief, he emptied a little Thorazine into a syringe and headed off in the direction of "Elvis's" bed.
"It's now or never," he said, under his breath, smiling at the madness of the world.
Rating: PG-13, but R later on...
Disclaimer: The ER characters do not belong to me, neither do any products, song lyrics or literary quotations mentioned.
Summary: Warm weather, flirtation and a few lessons to be learned. Luby. Sort of AU, sort of not.
Reviews: Thanks for all the reviews so far, please continue to let me know what you think :)
Light, colours, images, pictures trickled across her irises in a vivid stream. She leant harder on the desk, pushing her palm firmly into her cheek, grinding her elbow against the redundant, cold plastic. It was frustrating to be so close to something yet seemingly so far away. Although Luka was immovably in her line of sight, she was too far in the distance to make sense of the conversation he was having with a mysterious woman who was almost tall enough to look him right in the eyes. As her mind constantly endeavoured to ascertain what was going on, not a single thought passed through her troubled consciousness, only her fierce concentration on her subjects prevailed. It was like looking at a painting or photo in a gallery: one image yet a thousand different ways to interpret it. Frankly, somebody would've had to throw quicklime in her eyes to stop her from observing with intent. Finally, Abby was interrupted by a gentle but firm nudge in the ribs.
"Stop staring or your eyes will stay like that," Susan said, wondering why such a simple scene had garnered such attention.
"I wasn't...oh, never mind...it's not even worth it." Abby swiftly abandoned her defence, knowing full well that in this place, you were accused, tried and convicted however much you pleaded your innocence.
"Who's the woman?"
"No idea." She replied nonchalantly, but her body language was far from careless as she tapped her fingers rhythmically against the desk. Reading this,
Susan moved a little closer, and, ensuring nobody was in earshot, whispered "So, what's been going on lately, then?"
"With what?" Although her tone suggested that she was none the wiser, Abby knew, with a frighteningly psychic rush, where this conversation was going. At least she had tried to pretend that this was not the case, it was always worth feigning and fighting against heading down the path that you did not want to take.
"With you and Luka. It's been like me and my shadow over the last few weeks."
Abby smiled at the image, then said objectively, "Nothing. Just coincidence."
Susan laughed dryly. "No such thing. C'mon, tell me. There's been zip all going on all day. I need a little excitement." Her manner was easy, light and convincing. Abby had barely shared these feelings with herself, let alone attempting to vocalise and rationalise them, but the offer to unburden was tempting.
"It'll take more than a few minutes. More like a lifetime." Her words were infused with a trickle of sadness.
"Well, seeing as I'm running the show instead of Wonderwoman, I think we can spare half an hour for some lunch. I'm sure that your shadow can fill in for a while. And don't worry, I'll find out who she is."
Still riddled with a hindering reluctance, but once again finding herself submitting to other people's schemes, Abby replied softly, "Alright, you win. I'll just get my things." Things sounded nicer than cigarettes. She headed for her locker, racing past Luka and his companion like a flash of light, the softness of their goodbyes just catching on her earlobes. Once she had reached the safety of the lounge, she peered over her shoulder to see that he was now conversing with Susan.
"Who's your friend?" She asked immediately, remembering the pledge that she had made moments ago.
Momentarily, Luka was tempted to ask her why she was so interested but then changed his mind. Not everybody asked questions just for the chance for a cheap dig through your personal life. "My friend's girlfriend. Just passing on a message. Did you want something?"
"Can I ask a favour?" Susan asked cautiously.
"Sure, but I'm off in half an hour, so it'd better be a quick one." Although he was happy to help, he was beginning to feel fatigue creeping up on him.
"Can I leave you with the keys to the city for half an hour? Just going for some lunch."
"No problem. Anything I should know about?" All corners needed to be covered just in case Weaver should appear from the ether.
In turn, Susan considered the question carefully. "You'd better keep an eye on Pratt, the weather's making him a little hyperactive. We don't want any lawsuits." Luka folded his arms protectively and smiled.
"Oh, and the Elvis impersonator in five. If he gets any louder, it's probably best to sedate him."
He grinned a little harder. "What's wrong with him? Does he have a wooden heart or a suspicious mind?"
She laughed, beginning to see that he was not just pleasing on the eye.
"No, someone set fire to his wig." She corrected, yet only unknowingly paving the way for another joke.
"That will teach him to give concerts in the ghetto." He could not resist the temptation to inject a little more humour.
She laughed again, more than a little surprised. "As much as I'd love to play this game all day, I'm getting kinda hungry. Page me if it gets heavy."
Unable to think of any other Elvis related jokes, Luka decided it was time to give in. "OK, that's fine. Go, have lunch." Susan gave in too, his voice so gentle and persuasive, she collected Abby and left, without feeling even the slightest ounce of guilt.
Soon enough, a loud and out of tune wailing was grating against Luka's eardrums. The strains of Don't Be Cruel filtered through the busy air. Cruel?? More like torture, he thought. Deciding that Susan's advice was definitely not to be ignored, he took action immediately. Shaking his head in amusement and disbelief, he emptied a little Thorazine into a syringe and headed off in the direction of "Elvis's" bed.
"It's now or never," he said, under his breath, smiling at the madness of the world.