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: Once again, I cannot tell you how much I appreicate all your thoughts, I'm still working very hard on this story, so please keep em comin'!!
Author's note: Song referenced in this bit is of course a modern classic, LOL, Better The Devil You Know by Kylie Minogue. :) Yeah, I know these last few chapters are kinda short, but I promise the next few are pretty darn important!!
Often, without them even knowing it, the actions of others shape and formulate decisions in your life. While feeling the cool, sensuous bliss of a rush of air from the air conditioning vents and lounging against the comfortable leather of Mo's back seat, Abby experienced such a moment in time. It is time to buy your own car, she thought, sick and tired of her journeys with other people of late. She was not at all fond of Luka's Michael Schumacher mentality, especially having witnessed its serious consequences, but Mo's driving was on another level, an even more intensely frightening encounter.
"Cause it's true, what they saaay, it's better the devil you know." As he sang loudly, he waved his arms about erratically to stress every note, every syllable, his hands never seeming to be on the wheel. Almost in a frenzy, the music took him over, spiralling an immense catatonia into his body. Not that he was a bad singer, in fact, his voice possessed a haunting tone and richness which seemed to communicate every emotion known to humankind in perfectly timed reams. His vocal was barely louder than Kylie's which rippled out of the powerful speakers. As Australia's most famous export next to Foster's had enjoyed something of a resurgence in popularity in the States thanks to the worldwide success of Can't Get You Out Of My Head, the choice of music was not altogether surprising. But it was extremely loud, the mix of the music and the singing creating an interesting aural sensation.
As the urban sprawl faded into the suburbs, the sun streaking a path, creating rich shadows even though evening's beauty lingered, the karaoke continued. While Luka had found himself strangely accustomed to the general noise which permeated around his friend, indifferently watching the city merge away in pools of heat, Abby was in contemplative mood. If I die in a car accident tonight, she thought strangely amused, who'll be at my funeral?
At least, she thought, with a rueful smile, this far out of the metropolis that is the heart of Chicago, my colleagues won't be scraping me off the tarmac. Dismissing these as irrational and pessimistic thoughts, which were not permitted in this atmosphere, she sat back and closed her eyes. Now a little more comfortable, she slouched contentedly as Mo's distinct versions of Never Too Late, Hand On Your Heart and his excruciatingly soulful renditions of Give Me Just A Little More Time and Tears On My Pillow washed in and out of her consciousness.
Arrival at their destination was both a curse and a blessing. Some of the ripe, cutting humidity had pacified into a less intense warmth, a glow of tranquillity. Yet from outside there was an indication of even more noise, an array of voices and a dull thud of basslines vibrating the air. Torturously affected by the journey's loud music, Abby felt a sharp ringing in her ears, an overwhelming sensation of dizziness as she left the comfort of the BMW. Standing up did not seem so easy anymore, so she spun around and leant against the cold silver metal of the car, arching herself coquettishly toward the merciless sun. Eyes wide open, pupils tiny in the harsh light, her body aching with an uncertain amount of tension, she then closed her eyes tightly, shutting away the ignorance of the world. Luka felt in tune with her angst as every line on her face conveyed confusion and tiredness. And it was only half-past eight!
"You should be thankful that he didn't try and show you the actions."
She opened her eyes, his voice the only thing she felt able to comprehend.
"What actions would they be?" "The Hand Jive? Semaphore?" Sarcasm was literally dripping from her tone, despite her confusion, she knew she soon may well be thriving in this surreal state.
"I wouldn't know anything about it," he said, raising his hands to illustrate his dismissal, unaware that his motions could be conceived as those very actions.
What was at first a true, contented smile broke into a laugh that she did not try to stifle. "That's nice, Luka, that's very cute."
"What?" he asked, both unaware and beguiled.
"Never mind," she said, hopelessly, grinning effortlessly.
The three of them made their way inside the fairly large suburban house, which was strangely outsized by its wide, never-ending sprawl of a garden. A blanket of short, lush green grass carpeted out in an endless ream, punctured only by a comparatively small dash of blue swimming pool. People of all sizes, shapes and nationality were scattered about, thrown in with the natural beauty of a summer evening, man, woman and the world at one. The garden was to be the thriving hub of social activity, and more importantly, the scene for many battles and allegiances. The mellow orange sky turned to a fierce, angry red as it awaited the clashes of the stars and the coming together of the masses.
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: Once again, I cannot tell you how much I appreicate all your thoughts, I'm still working very hard on this story, so please keep em comin'!!
Author's note: Song referenced in this bit is of course a modern classic, LOL, Better The Devil You Know by Kylie Minogue. :) Yeah, I know these last few chapters are kinda short, but I promise the next few are pretty darn important!!
Often, without them even knowing it, the actions of others shape and formulate decisions in your life. While feeling the cool, sensuous bliss of a rush of air from the air conditioning vents and lounging against the comfortable leather of Mo's back seat, Abby experienced such a moment in time. It is time to buy your own car, she thought, sick and tired of her journeys with other people of late. She was not at all fond of Luka's Michael Schumacher mentality, especially having witnessed its serious consequences, but Mo's driving was on another level, an even more intensely frightening encounter.
"Cause it's true, what they saaay, it's better the devil you know." As he sang loudly, he waved his arms about erratically to stress every note, every syllable, his hands never seeming to be on the wheel. Almost in a frenzy, the music took him over, spiralling an immense catatonia into his body. Not that he was a bad singer, in fact, his voice possessed a haunting tone and richness which seemed to communicate every emotion known to humankind in perfectly timed reams. His vocal was barely louder than Kylie's which rippled out of the powerful speakers. As Australia's most famous export next to Foster's had enjoyed something of a resurgence in popularity in the States thanks to the worldwide success of Can't Get You Out Of My Head, the choice of music was not altogether surprising. But it was extremely loud, the mix of the music and the singing creating an interesting aural sensation.
As the urban sprawl faded into the suburbs, the sun streaking a path, creating rich shadows even though evening's beauty lingered, the karaoke continued. While Luka had found himself strangely accustomed to the general noise which permeated around his friend, indifferently watching the city merge away in pools of heat, Abby was in contemplative mood. If I die in a car accident tonight, she thought strangely amused, who'll be at my funeral?
At least, she thought, with a rueful smile, this far out of the metropolis that is the heart of Chicago, my colleagues won't be scraping me off the tarmac. Dismissing these as irrational and pessimistic thoughts, which were not permitted in this atmosphere, she sat back and closed her eyes. Now a little more comfortable, she slouched contentedly as Mo's distinct versions of Never Too Late, Hand On Your Heart and his excruciatingly soulful renditions of Give Me Just A Little More Time and Tears On My Pillow washed in and out of her consciousness.
Arrival at their destination was both a curse and a blessing. Some of the ripe, cutting humidity had pacified into a less intense warmth, a glow of tranquillity. Yet from outside there was an indication of even more noise, an array of voices and a dull thud of basslines vibrating the air. Torturously affected by the journey's loud music, Abby felt a sharp ringing in her ears, an overwhelming sensation of dizziness as she left the comfort of the BMW. Standing up did not seem so easy anymore, so she spun around and leant against the cold silver metal of the car, arching herself coquettishly toward the merciless sun. Eyes wide open, pupils tiny in the harsh light, her body aching with an uncertain amount of tension, she then closed her eyes tightly, shutting away the ignorance of the world. Luka felt in tune with her angst as every line on her face conveyed confusion and tiredness. And it was only half-past eight!
"You should be thankful that he didn't try and show you the actions."
She opened her eyes, his voice the only thing she felt able to comprehend.
"What actions would they be?" "The Hand Jive? Semaphore?" Sarcasm was literally dripping from her tone, despite her confusion, she knew she soon may well be thriving in this surreal state.
"I wouldn't know anything about it," he said, raising his hands to illustrate his dismissal, unaware that his motions could be conceived as those very actions.
What was at first a true, contented smile broke into a laugh that she did not try to stifle. "That's nice, Luka, that's very cute."
"What?" he asked, both unaware and beguiled.
"Never mind," she said, hopelessly, grinning effortlessly.
The three of them made their way inside the fairly large suburban house, which was strangely outsized by its wide, never-ending sprawl of a garden. A blanket of short, lush green grass carpeted out in an endless ream, punctured only by a comparatively small dash of blue swimming pool. People of all sizes, shapes and nationality were scattered about, thrown in with the natural beauty of a summer evening, man, woman and the world at one. The garden was to be the thriving hub of social activity, and more importantly, the scene for many battles and allegiances. The mellow orange sky turned to a fierce, angry red as it awaited the clashes of the stars and the coming together of the masses.