"Kerry Weaver, drop that coffee pot!" the voice was calmly commanding and distinctly accented, and seemed to come from nowhere.
Before she could turn to respond to the presence, she heard the lounge door close and the pot and mug were taken from her hands.
"What do you think you're doing? Caffeine is…"
The ex-ER Chief sighed then rolled her eyes, bending slightly at the waist and retrieving a can of ground coffee. Setting it on the bar, she leaned heavily against her crutch and tapped the label. "Read."
"Decaf?" he seemed surprised, eyebrows shooting upward toward his hairline. "You never struck me as the type."
"Type?" she began to ask, but shook her head, retrieving her mug, and moved to sit on the couch. "Better than nothing."
Luka nodded pensively, then pulled himself from thoughts of his lost family before they could again consume him. Sighing, he sat in a separate chair, waiting for her to break the silence. The lights above them flickered, ceased, then again lit up, slightly dimmer than before.
"Generator," she paused, "Snow and ice probably weighed down the transformer."
"Closed to incoming traumas?" Luka prodded, and she met his gaze over her coffee cup.
"Not my call, but I imagine so," Kerry replied and shrugged, setting the mug back on the table. "Romano has final say in these matters." Her words weren't without a slight tinge of bitterness.
After another pause, the tall Croatian smiled lightly, and asked, "How are you?"
Almost reflexively, Kerry narrowed her eyes, clasped her hands together, and leaned back farther into her seat. "Which one sent you?" she demanded.
"Which.. Uhm, Kerry," Luka began, bewilderment apparent on his face.
"Carter or Jeanne?"
"Uh, neither. I just wanted to know… how you were," his voice was quiet but filled with amusement as he watched her eyes widen.
"Oh," the corners of her mouth twitched upward involuntarily, "Okay."
"Pardon?"
"I'm okay, fine, you know," she clarified, her hands gesturing wildly. "You?" Kerry barely withheld a chuckle at the look of sheer confusion plastered over his face.
"Fine, fine," he answered, shaking away his confusion at the woman before him, then grinned as he too drained his coffee mug. "Carter or Jeanne?"
Kerry turned away, feeling her face grow warm against her wishes upon being questioned amusedly over her assumption. She said nothing, so Luka again began to speak. "They worry, friends do that, and Carter," he caught himself before continuing, grinning wider as he turned to glance at the closed lounge door and added, "well, he's Carter."
"How're the betting pools?" she replied, insistent upon getting her retaliating shot and refusing to follow Luka's train of thought.
Luka shook his head again, startled. He never did understand why she allowed the pools, especially when she knew about the specific topics. "I don't know. I don't… gamble, at least, not on lives."
Kerry nodded, "Should've known," she muttered beneath her breath, and rolled her eyes when he turned back with yet another question.
"And Carter? Is he… hovering?" he struggled a minute with the wording, cautious in his questioning as he well-remembered the Chief of Emergency Medicine's volatile temper over the tiniest details.
The doctor barely contained an indignant snort, as everyone seemed to be questioning her personal life and living arrangements of late, but upon looking up she caught the sincerity in his eyes and smiled. "Yes, you could say that," almost as an afterthought, she added, "It's nice… having a, well, friend." It almost surprised her, Kerry mused, that she had trouble naming Carter as a friend, it was funny how he'd stepped into the role of something so much bigger without being asked, or perhaps, without asking. And, she couldn't help but think, he fit in that role so well. Yes, he would make a magnificent father to someone's child, someday. A wonderful partner, too.
It still struck her, after that first morning almost seven weeks ago, when Carter arrived, tapping on her bedroom door, just as she woke each morning or evening, depending on her shifts. Whether it was to hold back her hair or deliver a meal, or even read to her or be read to, he always arrived, at least once daily, sitting on the foot of her bed and offering something she found so incredibly valuable – his time and companionship. Kerry had noticed several times, too, that the look that had crossed his face had been something different than she usually saw in him, but something that she'd seen many times since he'd moved into her basement, and at an even greater frequency in the past weeks and months. She pondered over it even then, what exactly he had somehow come to mean to her and what she meant to him. With a wry grin that would be sure to leave Luka wondering where her mind had wandered, Kerry admitted to herself that, just maybe, she'd worn the very same look on her face many times, and not just in the last year.
Yes, Carter had become something much more than a friend, she only wondered if he knew just what he wanted to be.
"Carter's some friend," Luka smiled again, noting the faraway look in her eyes, and her eyes narrowed as she came back to herself. "Someone who cares, who can hold back your hair or hold your hand. Okay, okay," he held up his hands, "I'm dropping it," the attending surrendered. He observed her as her eyes slipped slowly closed and she leaned further back into the cushions. It was then that he realized exactly what sort of fear and anxiety his supervisor was going through waiting for those test results. She hadn't wanted the amniocentesis in the first place, but opted for it in case something was wrong. They'd all known she'd agonized over her decision, worried over what might happen if she gave in, and what might happen if she didn't. But, being Kerry Weaver, she said nothing, held her head up, and forged on, only letting the select few see her guard down, her hands caress her child, the tears she seldom cried. She would survive.
The door slipped open and Carter entered, standing quietly, somewhat apprehensively watching the two, before sitting on the other end of the couch. Without warning, she flipped a hand up and growled, "Don't even say it, Carter, I'm fine."
He arched an eyebrow, looking toward Luka, and mouthed, "O-okay…"
Luka grinned back rather impishly and turned to go refill his mug.
"Still waiting for that phone call?" Carter prodded, grinning widely as she opened her eyes, glare absent, to sigh at him. He allowed himself to inch closer and slip an arm behind her, not quite touching but offering support should she decide to give in to wanting it.
"It's been a long hour and fifteen minutes. She said they'd call after five," she shrugged and ran her hand through her hair before Carter captured it in his own and laid them together against the outside of his thigh.
"Why didn't you go upstairs and wait there? With the power out, I'm not sure they'll even call."
"They’ll call, believe me. I hate those things, you know, the gowns, the rooms, everything. And it makes me feel useless, you know, the waiting and pacing and all of that. I'm no good at pacing anyway. At least here I can drink my coffee in relative peace and worry to myself," she replied quietly.
"Decaf?" Carter asked, eyes narrowed.
"Yes – decaf."
"Okay." With that, the phone rang just as she predicted, ending all chances of silence. Carter glanced at Kerry, whose eyes flitted back and forth between him and Luka. "You want me to…"
"No, no," she shook her head semi-violently and reached for the phone. A few minutes later and several 'yeah's and worried glances later, she pushed herself upward and looked to Carter, the phone back in its cradle.
"Yeah?" the younger man asked, standing to his feet too and shifting restlessly from right to left.
"They wanted me to go upstairs, but…" she paused, and Luka moved forward, unsure what to do and whether or not his presence was wanted. "Uhm, no presence of anything life threatening and untreatable," she sighed thankfully, "there's some concern over an Rh factor incompatibility, but that can be treated with RhoGam in about 12 weeks and during, you know, labor, and the baby'll need an extra treatment after it's born, but other than that, it'll be okay, Nancy thinks. They thought it would've shown up sooner, but it obviously didn't or at least no one thought to share this with me and didn't record it in the charts."
Carter fought the urge to reach forward, "But everything's okay for sixteen weeks? I still don't think you're eating enough, you should be gaining more weight."
This time, Luka grinned as he observed her obvious blush. Oh yeah, the Croatian thought, they've got it bad.
"Quit being a doctor for a minute, Carter," Luka moved forward and smacked him on the shoulder, wearing a pleased expression.
The youngest attending looked cautiously between Luka and Kerry before focusing in on her again, watching as she rolled her eyes at him.
"I eat more than I should," she sighed. "Everything's fine, as long as this gets treated it won't go any further. HDN is easily prevented, and you know, it's going to be fine," she was adamant, "it has to be, right?" she looked up at him and watched as the concerned expression on his face seemed to wash away and pure joy overtook him.
Luka stepped backward as Carter finally gave in to himself and reached forward hesitantly, noting that her crutch was still leaning against the corner table. Outside, snow began to fall even harder, white flakes large and heavy as they pelted the lounge window and covered the ambulance bay where no one waited for the sick, the injured and the dying, and the corner radio crackled to life, announcing that CCGH Chief of Staff Robert Romano had closed the hospital to all incoming trauma cases, because of a weak or faulty generator.
Luka grinned to himself before moving to the door, observing their actions for a few moments upon realizing they'd forgotten he was even in their vicinity, then took off toward the desk to ask Jerry who'd won the poll for the first kiss – the beginning. Moments later, Jeanne spun past him, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the lounge door with her, where Elizabeth and Lydia soon arrived with Randi in tow, the five collectively cracking the door and poking their heads inside, craning their necks and readjusting their stances for a better view.
Kerry seemed to move into him, drawn to his touch as opposite poles of a magnet, and he twirled her in a circle before she finally placed a hand on his chest and requested he slow down. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she cut him off with a shake of her head and a finger against his lips, her other hand digging into his shoulder. "We're gonna be okay," she told him, with an almost childlike tone to her voice, and in the corner of her mind, she registered that Luka had left the lounge. Above them, the fluorescent lighting flickered again and seemed to grow dimmer, bathing the room in shadows and ghosts, and then his head dipped lower and her face moved toward his, and they were dancing.
