Title: Hotter Than July
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.
Author's Note: The final chapter. After a good two years of on-off writing! I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'll be back, I'm planning a sequel to this, but I also have many short fanfics that I am in the process of finishing. Thank you all so much for reading. I might seem to write with many words, but I don't think I can get across how much your responses mean to me. :) By the way, this final chapter contains non-graphic sexual content, so skip the first paragraph if you don't want to read that bit.
Reviews: Your comments on the final chapter and on the story as a whole please. Even if you haven't reviewed before and have been reading, please let me know what you think. Thanks.
Dedications: Where to start LOL. To Claire, for urging me to write this and for reading way back when. Thanks! I needed that first push! Natasha, a constant piece in my creative backbone. I can't believe you started reading this when you had never even seen ER. Forever indebted, I hope you were addicted to this shindig ;) Sass: We'll be hosting that Essex writer's convention soon ;) Thanks for reading and all the help. Rowena: Chapter 23 was my nemesis, you helped me overcome it! Thanks! Here's to more Luby convos in the future. :) No.13 Baby: Without your encouragement to post I think this would still be lingering on my hard-drive. Thanks for the constant and thorough reviews :) formelynoname: I always knew that your review would be there and as a writer who often feels insecure, that means a lot to me, and I also thank you for championing my work at TWoP :) Californiagirl and Mrs Eyre: Your stories are so great I feel privileged that you took the time to review mine. Thanks.
Finally, apologies to anybody I missed out and a huge thank you to EVERYONE and I mean everyone who read and reviewed. Love ya! I'll be back!
Life is made of many colours at many different times, it is often an unstable palette of varying emotion. Just before dawn, everything seemed as if it were painted a timid midnight blue, like ink burst from the fragile nib of a fountain pen. In the midst of a thousand caresses, they were drenched with colour. Her hair vanilla and chestnut in the light, teasing grip of his fingers. Their kisses an exquisite red fever, misty with desire. The cluster of sheets pale with indifference, creased with the memory of movement. Her fingertips as white-hot as the fading stars as she tenderly, erratically gripped his skin. His eyes as certain and enchanting as dawn's grey light as he watched her, felt her, moved deeper within her. Her gaze dark-brown, hazy and heavy with pleasure and emotion as she rocked slowly, fluidly. His name a light, sacred cry on her lips as she came, her name a deep, dark whisper as he felt that final agonising shiver, pulling her closer. The breaking light silver and azure against them as they merged into each others' arms, sanguine and sleepy.
"I missed you while we were apart." Abby's confession breathless as she traced figures-of-eight on his chest with her thumb. Luka found himself caught in one of those moments when he could not find any words. Not in any language. He did not expect that she had ever had any reason to feel aggrieved that he was not a significant part of her life.
"It was better that way," he said slowly, knowing that separation had been a necessary journey for both of them. Knowing there was still a long way to go.
"Maybe." Her reply was slow, thoughtful, caught between certainty and doubt. "Learning to be apart was the easy bit, I guess." A little more assurance this time.
"Holding it all together is the hard part." Experience seemed to knit through his tone as she stopped making patterns and moved to look at him for a moment.
"Does that scare you?" Abby asked, while leaning on her elbow.
Silence, then a casual shrug, as Luka reached for his watch to find out what the time was. "Nobody knows what will happen," he said pensively, examining the dial.
"It's not..." He paused as if to make a more profound statement. "Mission Impossible." She smiled, his reply totally unexpected.
"It will be. When Maggie comes back. Which she will. Like a boomerang."
"Tom Cruise is too short to catch a boomerang, but I think I can manage it."
Abby laughed this time, squeezing his hand. "It's not funny."
"We'll be fine," he replied, pushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.
She was tempted to believe him, even if experience had taught her better. "Don't say that. You'll jinx it."
"OK. We won't be fine."
"Much better."
More of the morning's fresh, new light entered the room as she slid back down, laying there silently, his arm around her shoulders. Jokes aside,
Abby felt a little better about the future. There was little use in speculation when even the best plans could go wrong, or in fact right. Yet she had one near certainty: she would not be running away, whatever happened.
"It's early. What are we going to do for the rest of the day?" Luka spoke with the voice of a man who was going to relish a day without work.
"I'm not moving an inch," Abby affirmed.
"Laziness is bad for you."
"I didn't say anything about sleeping."
He exhaled loudly and laughed. "What would you do without me?"
"I'm not even gonna answer that."
Silent sunlight was followed by noise, the digital alarm pealing annoying sound. An outstretched arm thumped the box and it was swiftly muted. Luka cursed to himself, feeling that he had been over-zealous in ending the irritating bleeping, his palm momentarily stinging with regret. He turned to his left and his discomfort turned to mystification, at the sight of an empty bed. Eight a.m on an non-work morning and Abby was out of bed. Who said miracles didn't exist? He blinked as he realised that she had hastily attached a Post-It note to the pillow. It read: "Laziness is bad for you. Be back soon."
He grinned and expeditiously showered and dressed, awaiting her return while toast leapt from the toaster, coffee lingered in the pot and the radio blared. He slouched on the couch while scanning the TV guide. Soon enough, keys were rattling in the lock, the door opened and closed and a slightly aggrieved Abby arrived. She flung the newspaper and the bag she had been holding at the table, swiftly followed by the metallic crash of her keys.
"Is it me, or is everybody pissed-off in the morning?"
"It's you," Luka replied firmly. "You must have been a night-time baby."
She grinned wryly. " I have no idea," she replied, crossing, then unfolding her arms as she heard the reflectivenesss in her voice.
"Maybe you should find out," he said, prising a cautious eye away from his reading to read her expression.
"Ten out of ten for subtlety." She immediately knew that this was a disguised continuation of their earlier talk about her mother.
"You realise you're not safe from my morning madness until at least one?" There was no intent in her words, lightness in her tone as she picked up an orange from the fruit bowl, considering it as a mischievous missile.
"We'll talk about it later." He almost seemed to be suggesting that they had all the time in the world, even if they both knew how cruel and capricious time could be.
Abby crossed the room slowly, noticing that the Greek Tragedies book that he had been reading for some time was precariously perching on the edge of the couch. The stories that were meant to make everything bearable, the fiction that protected from fact. Who needs books? She took aim and threw it confidently into the nearest bin. Luka looked up, confused.
"What are you doing? I paid fifteen dollars for that book."
"I think that was the real tragedy," she replied, with a secret, slow smile. He decided not to be annoyed at the demise of his book, feeling somehow that he would trade his many a novel for the rare beauty of her smiles. Although, they seemed to be a little less scarce these days. Abby pushed the nearest cushion into his lap and quickly joined him, gazing slowly at the ceiling, before he discarded the TV guide and she took hold of Luka's hand. Their fingers knitted together with a consummate ease. They both knew they would be holding on for some time. Through the rest of the devilish, hot summer; into the indecisive green, ochre, red and brown of autumn; against the punishing ice and snow of winter. Even in the spring, when there may just be a hint of cherry blossom caught up in the enchanting breeze.
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.
Author's Note: The final chapter. After a good two years of on-off writing! I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'll be back, I'm planning a sequel to this, but I also have many short fanfics that I am in the process of finishing. Thank you all so much for reading. I might seem to write with many words, but I don't think I can get across how much your responses mean to me. :) By the way, this final chapter contains non-graphic sexual content, so skip the first paragraph if you don't want to read that bit.
Reviews: Your comments on the final chapter and on the story as a whole please. Even if you haven't reviewed before and have been reading, please let me know what you think. Thanks.
Dedications: Where to start LOL. To Claire, for urging me to write this and for reading way back when. Thanks! I needed that first push! Natasha, a constant piece in my creative backbone. I can't believe you started reading this when you had never even seen ER. Forever indebted, I hope you were addicted to this shindig ;) Sass: We'll be hosting that Essex writer's convention soon ;) Thanks for reading and all the help. Rowena: Chapter 23 was my nemesis, you helped me overcome it! Thanks! Here's to more Luby convos in the future. :) No.13 Baby: Without your encouragement to post I think this would still be lingering on my hard-drive. Thanks for the constant and thorough reviews :) formelynoname: I always knew that your review would be there and as a writer who often feels insecure, that means a lot to me, and I also thank you for championing my work at TWoP :) Californiagirl and Mrs Eyre: Your stories are so great I feel privileged that you took the time to review mine. Thanks.
Finally, apologies to anybody I missed out and a huge thank you to EVERYONE and I mean everyone who read and reviewed. Love ya! I'll be back!
Life is made of many colours at many different times, it is often an unstable palette of varying emotion. Just before dawn, everything seemed as if it were painted a timid midnight blue, like ink burst from the fragile nib of a fountain pen. In the midst of a thousand caresses, they were drenched with colour. Her hair vanilla and chestnut in the light, teasing grip of his fingers. Their kisses an exquisite red fever, misty with desire. The cluster of sheets pale with indifference, creased with the memory of movement. Her fingertips as white-hot as the fading stars as she tenderly, erratically gripped his skin. His eyes as certain and enchanting as dawn's grey light as he watched her, felt her, moved deeper within her. Her gaze dark-brown, hazy and heavy with pleasure and emotion as she rocked slowly, fluidly. His name a light, sacred cry on her lips as she came, her name a deep, dark whisper as he felt that final agonising shiver, pulling her closer. The breaking light silver and azure against them as they merged into each others' arms, sanguine and sleepy.
"I missed you while we were apart." Abby's confession breathless as she traced figures-of-eight on his chest with her thumb. Luka found himself caught in one of those moments when he could not find any words. Not in any language. He did not expect that she had ever had any reason to feel aggrieved that he was not a significant part of her life.
"It was better that way," he said slowly, knowing that separation had been a necessary journey for both of them. Knowing there was still a long way to go.
"Maybe." Her reply was slow, thoughtful, caught between certainty and doubt. "Learning to be apart was the easy bit, I guess." A little more assurance this time.
"Holding it all together is the hard part." Experience seemed to knit through his tone as she stopped making patterns and moved to look at him for a moment.
"Does that scare you?" Abby asked, while leaning on her elbow.
Silence, then a casual shrug, as Luka reached for his watch to find out what the time was. "Nobody knows what will happen," he said pensively, examining the dial.
"It's not..." He paused as if to make a more profound statement. "Mission Impossible." She smiled, his reply totally unexpected.
"It will be. When Maggie comes back. Which she will. Like a boomerang."
"Tom Cruise is too short to catch a boomerang, but I think I can manage it."
Abby laughed this time, squeezing his hand. "It's not funny."
"We'll be fine," he replied, pushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.
She was tempted to believe him, even if experience had taught her better. "Don't say that. You'll jinx it."
"OK. We won't be fine."
"Much better."
More of the morning's fresh, new light entered the room as she slid back down, laying there silently, his arm around her shoulders. Jokes aside,
Abby felt a little better about the future. There was little use in speculation when even the best plans could go wrong, or in fact right. Yet she had one near certainty: she would not be running away, whatever happened.
"It's early. What are we going to do for the rest of the day?" Luka spoke with the voice of a man who was going to relish a day without work.
"I'm not moving an inch," Abby affirmed.
"Laziness is bad for you."
"I didn't say anything about sleeping."
He exhaled loudly and laughed. "What would you do without me?"
"I'm not even gonna answer that."
Silent sunlight was followed by noise, the digital alarm pealing annoying sound. An outstretched arm thumped the box and it was swiftly muted. Luka cursed to himself, feeling that he had been over-zealous in ending the irritating bleeping, his palm momentarily stinging with regret. He turned to his left and his discomfort turned to mystification, at the sight of an empty bed. Eight a.m on an non-work morning and Abby was out of bed. Who said miracles didn't exist? He blinked as he realised that she had hastily attached a Post-It note to the pillow. It read: "Laziness is bad for you. Be back soon."
He grinned and expeditiously showered and dressed, awaiting her return while toast leapt from the toaster, coffee lingered in the pot and the radio blared. He slouched on the couch while scanning the TV guide. Soon enough, keys were rattling in the lock, the door opened and closed and a slightly aggrieved Abby arrived. She flung the newspaper and the bag she had been holding at the table, swiftly followed by the metallic crash of her keys.
"Is it me, or is everybody pissed-off in the morning?"
"It's you," Luka replied firmly. "You must have been a night-time baby."
She grinned wryly. " I have no idea," she replied, crossing, then unfolding her arms as she heard the reflectivenesss in her voice.
"Maybe you should find out," he said, prising a cautious eye away from his reading to read her expression.
"Ten out of ten for subtlety." She immediately knew that this was a disguised continuation of their earlier talk about her mother.
"You realise you're not safe from my morning madness until at least one?" There was no intent in her words, lightness in her tone as she picked up an orange from the fruit bowl, considering it as a mischievous missile.
"We'll talk about it later." He almost seemed to be suggesting that they had all the time in the world, even if they both knew how cruel and capricious time could be.
Abby crossed the room slowly, noticing that the Greek Tragedies book that he had been reading for some time was precariously perching on the edge of the couch. The stories that were meant to make everything bearable, the fiction that protected from fact. Who needs books? She took aim and threw it confidently into the nearest bin. Luka looked up, confused.
"What are you doing? I paid fifteen dollars for that book."
"I think that was the real tragedy," she replied, with a secret, slow smile. He decided not to be annoyed at the demise of his book, feeling somehow that he would trade his many a novel for the rare beauty of her smiles. Although, they seemed to be a little less scarce these days. Abby pushed the nearest cushion into his lap and quickly joined him, gazing slowly at the ceiling, before he discarded the TV guide and she took hold of Luka's hand. Their fingers knitted together with a consummate ease. They both knew they would be holding on for some time. Through the rest of the devilish, hot summer; into the indecisive green, ochre, red and brown of autumn; against the punishing ice and snow of winter. Even in the spring, when there may just be a hint of cherry blossom caught up in the enchanting breeze.