A/N So this was actually going to be just the first half of a longer chapter. But the rest isn't coming together, and will probably be a few days yet. This part IS self-contained, so, though it's a bit short, I'll go ahead and call it chapter 32.

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Abby sat up quietly and started to slide out of bed.

"Where are you going?" Luka asked. She'd thought he was asleep.

"I still need to call Susan. She's probably wondering what happened to us."

A smile. "I think she can guess."

"I still need to call her." Abby could feel Luka's eyes on her and, as casually as she could, she reached into her suitcase for a nightshirt and pulled it over her head. Luka would have to clear some drawer space for her soon.

"Don't be long." His voice still smiled.

"What? You have further plans for the evening?"

"Maybe ... maybe. It is still early, you know. And neither us of has anywhere to go tomorrow."

"My only plans are for sleep," Abby said. "You did nothing much today. I packed up an entire apartment."

"Nothing much? You call what we just did 'nothing much?'"

"You know what I mean! I won't be long." She smiled back at him and went into the other room, her smile vanishing as soon as she'd shut the door behind her. She picked up the phone but didn't dial.

She'd thought she was ready. She was sure of it. She had kissed him, knowing where it would lead. And it had. His kisses, his arms around her, his hands touching her. All familiar, all arousing. It was what she had wanted. And then he'd taken her hand, pulled her up off the couch. And she'd realized that she was naked, that those caressing hands had been undressing her. He'd looked at her, his eyes warm, loving -- but she had shivered. Sudden concern from Luka.

"You're cold?"

"Yeah, it's chilly in here." A lie. She wasn't cold, not really. But she didn't want him looking at her. How many times before had he seen her body? More than she could count. But not lately. When she and Luka had made love the other night, there had been only the dim light from the bathroom, there had been blankets. They had touched. They had ... felt. But they hadn't really looked at each other. The last man to have seen her body had been Brian. He had looked at her, appraised her. She wasn't ready for this. But Luka couldn't know it. She couldn't hurt his feelings.

Cold was a good enough excuse. A good reason to hurry into the bedroom, get under the covers again. To let Luka's hands ... his body ... his words ... warm her. To help her remember earlier nights with him, and blot out some more recent nights that she only wanted to forget.

And it had been good. Luka had been patient. Tender, gentle, loving. Once she was safely in bed, she could enjoy it. The only hard part had been looking into Luka's eyes, and seeing how much he did love her. Knowing that he was, truly, making love, for the first time in a very long time. And wondering if she would ever be able to feel that way herself.

Making love. It was an interesting euphemism. Sex could mean so many different things, be so many different things. It could be violence and cruelty. Rape. Pain. Or it could be purely physical. Scratching an itch, a brief interlude of pleasure in a busy life. Or the meeting of two souls, communication without the need for words. The other night had been like that. Or it could be a duty. How many times had she had sex with Richard because that was what she supposed to do. What married people were supposed to do. It hadn't been bad with Richard, but it hadn't been making love. There hadn't been any love there at all. Because sex could also mean nothing at all. Abby knew that all those women had meant nothing to Luka. Even the physical pleasure had been unimportant. Sex had been just one way of forgetting. Like sleep. Like alcohol.

But 'making love?' Could sex make love? Create love where none existed? She'd had sex with Richard countless times, and hadn't loved him. She hadn't loved John either. Sex had been ... just sex. But what about Luka? Did she love Luka before? What hadsex been during all those months they'd been together? She couldn't remember. She could remember the physical sensations, she could remember falling asleep in his arms, waking up together But she couldn't remember what she had felt.

It was all too confusing. She didn't even know if she loved him now. If she didn't know her feelings now, how could she hope to remember her feelings from two years ago. But maybe she could love him. Maybe she would. Eventually. Maybe he could teach her. If she wasn't already damaged beyond repair.

Abby sighed and shook her head, shook off her reverie. She needed to call Susan, then get back to bed. She was tired, and Luka was surely asleep by now. Susan picked up on the second ring. "Abby?"

"Yeah."

"I've been getting worried."

"I'm sorry. I should have called sooner," Abby said.

"Does this mean that I don't need to open the pull-out tonight?"

Abby laughed. "Yeah, it does. We ... made up."

A low whistle. "Three hours worth of making up?"

"Well, half an hour of fighting and two and a half of making up."

"Lucky you. So ... when do you want the rest of your stuff?"

"Tomorrow's fine. Whenever you have a chance. We'll both be home."

"Ok. I don't work tomorrow, so I'll stop by at some point. Good night."

"Night." Abby hung up then sat and looked at the closed bedroom door for a moment.was she lucky? Or had her earlier words to Susan been the truth? Celibacy was much less complicated, wasn't it?

Abby returned to the bedroom. She stood in the doorway for a moment. Was Luka asleep? He seemed to be. She got into bed beside him and, after a moment, curled her body against his. His arm wrapped around her and he mumbled something, then was quiet again. He was asleep. She rested her head against his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his body, and drifted off to sleep.