Note: This chapter is a little different in style from my usual. Instead of my standard single POV style of writing (ok... show of hands, how many of you have noticed that I never use more than one POV in a chapter? 'Fess up!), this is three short sections, each with a different POV. (Yeah, I could have done it as three very short chapters, but that would have been a bit silly.) Hope it was worth the wait!

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"I told you that you're welcome to stay as long as you need to," Susan said.

"And I have." Abby took an armful of underwear out of Susan's dryer and began to fold it. "You've put me up for over a week. I'm grateful, but I don't need to stay here any more."

"Have you told Carter yet?"

"It's none of Carter's business. And none of yours either, really." More than a little snappish.

"You were with Luka for how long? About a year was it? And it was a disaster. So why do you want to ..."

"I don't," Abby interrupted firmly. "And I'm not. We're not getting back together. I'm doing him a favor, and he's doing me one. We're friends now, Susan. Why can't we help each other?"

"Because my radar says that there is something more to it than that." Susan reached over to pick up the sock that Abby dropped. Her radar was pretty accurate, she knew.

"Then get your radar checked, because it's wrong. Luka and I have hashed through the relationship thing too many times, and we've agreed that it doesn't work. But we do the friend thing pretty well." Abby took her folded laundry to her suitcase and began to pack.

Susan followed her, shaking her head. "I still think someone's going to end up getting hurt."

"Well, it won't be you, so why do you care?"

"Because you're my friend. And I like Luka too. I don't want to see either of you hurt." A half smile. "And, while you may be sure that this is all about friendship, I don't think Luka knows that."

"Luka's a big boy." Abby shut the suitcase. "Can you run me over to his place a little later? I need to drop my stuff off, and I told him I'd bring him some clothes to wear home tomorrow. I'd rather not have to drag my suitcase on the el."

"Sure."

The conversation was interrupted by the doorbell. Susan went to answer it. "Yeah?"

"A delivery for an Abigail Lockhart."

"Come on up." Susan looked at Abby, who shrugged. "Not expecting anything?" she asked.

"Nope."

Susan opened the apartment door to see a delivery man carrying a large bouquet wrapped in white paper.

"Ms Lockhart?"

Abby came to the door, signed for the flowers and carried them to the table. She unwrapped the paper to reveal at least three dozen pink roses.

"Pretty ..." Susan said.

Abby opened the card and frowned. "I'm glad you like them."

"They're for you, aren't they?"

Abby crumpled the card in her fist and threw it in the waste basket. "Luka may be a big boy, but Carter still has some growing up to do."

"I think he might be trying to say he's sorry. I mean, if they were red roses I might think he had something more in mind ..."

"It isn't about being sorry. He didn't do anything wrong to be sorry for. Not really. It's just ... over, and he can't see that."

"Well ... when he learns that you've moved in with Luka, I'm sure he'll get the message pretty clearly."

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Luka slid his legs over the side of the bed. He was still supposed to have a nurse with him when he got out of bed, but hell ... he was going home tomorrow. If they thought him strong enough to go home, he must be strong enough to walk around the room on his own.

He had no particular place to go; he didn't have to use the bathroom, there was no view from his window, but it felt good to be out of bed. Good in some ways, anyway. He was still surprisingly weak, and moving around made the incision hurt. But it felt good to be making progress towards getting well.

It was funny, Luka thought. He worked with sick people every day, but he sooo hated being sick himself. He hated the feeling that his body was letting him down. Usually he was able to push himself through almost any illness or injury and keep going. But not this one. This one was going to take a while to get past.

Luka walked a few steps around the room, just for the sake of walking, then sank down into the visitor's chair. He was exhausted already, far more than he was willling to admit, even to himself. Maybe he would get his breath back and then go back to bed and rest for a while. He had a big day tomorrow. The thought made him smile a little through his pain. A ten minute journey from the hospital to his apartment, something he did on a regular basis, usually didn't meet the definition of 'a big day.' Perspectives change.

Abby wouldn't be by until later, if at all. She wasn't working today, but was getting ready to move to his place. She'd promised to bring him clothes for tomorrow, but she might not be able to bring them until the morning. As much as going home, Luka was looking forward to wearing real clothes again. He hated hospital gowns. He hated everything to do with hospitals - except for working in them.

They hadn't really talked much about how this was all going to work. Luka had agreed to let her stay with him for a few weeks, until he was well enough to manage on his own and she had found a new place. But once the agreement had been reached, they hadn't talked more about it. Luka didn't know what to say, and Abby hadn't seemed to want to talk about it.

What had Abby been thinking? Luka wasn't sure what he was supposed to think. Or maybe he was just afraid to think. To wonder. To hope. So, for the past several days, their conversation had stuck to safe and neutral topics - work, tv shows, the news, how he was feeling. But not a word about them. And not a word about Carter.

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Carter glanced at the clock as he hung his coat up. He had about 20 minutes before his shift started. Maybe he'd run upstairs and see Luka for a minute. He'd only been to visit him once. It just felt so awkward, and it shouldn't. Carter shook his head bitterly. They'd been fighting over the same girl for years … and now neither one of them had her. So maybe they could be friends now.

Abby had been spending a lot of time with Luka since the shooting, but that was to be expected. They'd shared a terrible experience, and Abby certainly felt guilty about what had happened to Luka. Of course they were going to commiserate with each other. Would she be there now? Carter wasn't sure if he wanted her to be or not. It would be nice though to know if she'd gotten the flowers, and what she had thought. He'd sent them on impulse. He didn't expect her to come running back to him. He just didn't want to leave things this way.

Well, a quick visit, then to work. His last night shift Next week he'd be back on days.

Luka was sitting in a chair reading a magazine. He smiled when Carter came in and closed the magazine. "I thought I was going to be alone all evening," he said cheerfully.

"No Abby?"

"Is that who you were hoping to see?" A little frown.

"No. I'm just surprised. She's usually here in the evenings." And Carter realized that he was relieved that she wasn't here. He didn't need the awkwardness.

"Not today. She has ... things to do."

Carter nodded and perched on the edge of the bed. "So, rumor has it that they're springing you tomorrow?"

"Rumors are correct for once."

"I guess you'll be glad to be out of here."

"I'll be happier when I'm back here taking care of the patients, not being one."

"Don't rush it," Carter warned him. "That's what I did, and look where it got me."

What did it get him? Carter thought. It got him into addiction, and then into rehab ... where he ended up with Abby as his sponsor. It got him Abby. At least for a while.

Carter shook off the thoughts, and forced his attention back to Luka.

"I won't come back before I'm ready," Luka assured him. "And I think it will be a while."

"Will you have some help at home? Those first couple of weeks can be rough. I had Gamma's entire staff looking out for me after my surgery."

"I've got some help. I'll be ok."

Luka suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable. Had Carter said something wrong? He knew how much Luka must be hating this. How he hated being ill, being injured. So the idea of needing help even after being discharged, the idea that it was going to be a long time before he was back to normal again, must be hard for him. And he didn't need Carter reminding him of it. Or maybe he was just tired and anxious about being discharged.

"Good. That's nice to know. Feel free to call if you need anything, even just a friendly face."

"I'll be fine, Carter. You don't have to worry about me."