TITLE:  Home and Dry (Or, Whether July Kit Or Not, Here I Come), part
2/4
AUTHOR: Ellen Hursh
RATING:  PG-13/R/NC-17 (Little 'a this, little 'a that.)
KEYWORDS:  KW/LKo romance; angst; sexual innuendo and situations
(the type of story.  Angst, romance, humor, fun, medical drama, etc.)
LAST EPISODE SEEN:  "Witch Hunt"
TIMELINE:  Uh... mid-July-ish, 2000. Nearly two months after "May Day".
CROATIAN:  "Odjebi" = "fuck off"; Gdje = where. Any other Croatian words
are either explained in that section, or have been covered in previous
installments (in this case, from the rewrite of the second half of
Season 6). For the sake of convenience (as well as my own peace of
mind!), assume that any conversations that involve Croatians, that do
*not* use any Croatian words, are conducted in Croatian. On the other
hand, conversations between Croatians and non-Croatians, or that use
Croatian words, are to be assumed to be in English.
ARCHIVE:  If you must.
SONG:  "Home and Dry", written and performed by Gerry Rafferty;
available on the 1978 Capitol-EMI album "City to City", which I highly
recommend... along with his other work.
DISCLAIMER:  ER and all its characters belong to Warner Bros.  No
infringement of their copyright is intended.  This story was written for
the enjoyment of "ER" fans everywhere, and may be downloaded for your
own pleasure.
SUMMARY/SPOILERS:  Luka returns home from his trip to Croatia,
reflecting on his time spent there, and reunites with Kerry. Absolutely
no spoilers, because I know that by now I've deviated far, FAR afield of
the show. (Even farther than I already had, up to this point! :-)
AUTHOR'S NOTES:  Oddly enough, I got inspired to start this the last
time "Long Way Around" aired on TNT (pretty much just because the phrase
appears in the lyrics). "Home and dry" is a British phrase that
indicates that one has "safely achieved a goal" (thanks for the wording,
Michelle H!). "Dnevnik" is an evening news program on TV in Croatia.
PREVIOUSLY, ON MY ER:  Luka and Kerry embarked on an affair that turned
out to be based on feelings of love for both of them, and she asked him
to move in with her; Carter was stabbed and first attempted suicide,
then began abusing drugs in order to cope with both chronic pain and the
guilt of Lucy's death, and was sent to a rehab program for doctors in
Atlanta; Luka hired a PI to find Kerry's biological family, with ironic
results, and Kerry had Luka's sole remaining family picture restored,
better than ever; Luka travelled to Croatia, to visit family and "lay
some ghosts to rest"; Spike has the hots for Buff-- oh.




The idea of speaking to Kerry had been almost an afterthought - he
hadn't thought in terms of actually *calling* her, when he left Chicago
- but occurred to him while they were watching Dnevnik, about a week or
after his arrival. Vesna had her inevitable knitting, and Nik was
working on some designs. Luka, in the meantime, had been telling the
girls stories about working in the big, exciting American hospital as
the four of them sat on the living room floor. He left them to play
"defibrillator" and "t'oracotomy" with each other, and looked up in
Nik's direction.

"Nik, can you do me a favor?"

"Huh?" Nik looked up from the sketch he'd made of Vesna - a couple of
busts he'd made of her last month had sold, and other people had asked
about getting one, too. If he didn't watch it, Nik thought, he might
actually find himself with an honest-to-God side-career in this art
stuff. Anja and Natalija were now chasing each other around the
apartment, squealing excitedly - playing "psych consult" or "drive-by
shooting" perhaps, Luka thought bemusedly - and Nik called to them.
"Hey, you two. Quiet it down. What?"

"Can, uh, if I dialed the number, could I call, say, the United States
from here?" Nik stared at him.

"Are you crazy? You're wanting to *call* that woman of yours? How many
cards and letters have you sent her, huh?"

"At least two a day," Vesna helpfully observed. "But he wants to hear
her voice. Right, Luka?"

"Well, yes. I'll pay for the call." Nik looked up, and saw that Vesna
was glaring at him.

"All right, all right. You know where the phone is."

"Yeah. But, uh, we're dating secretly... nobody knows about us."
*Practically* nobody, anyway, he amended to himself.

"You what? You heartless man!" Vesna was scolding Luka now, and he shook
his head.

"*She's* the one who doesn't want to be public about it! *Please*, Nik.
I want you to speak to the desk clerk who answers, and ask for Dr Kerry
Weaver. Uh, lay on a really thick accent, and tell the clerk you're...
uh... Russian."

"Why? I mean, why disguise my voice? They don't know my voice--"

"But they know *my* accent, and--" Nik interrupted, gesturing
impatiently, exactly the way Luka did.

"Oh, all right. All right! Punch in the number, there. And give me the
phone." Luka did so. "It's ringing!" Nik hissed. Then he cleared his
throat, and did the best he could to sound like a Russian. "Mees Doctor
Keery Veaver, pliss." Luka rolled his eyes - Nik's best effort at
sounding Russian kinda, well, *sucked*.

"I em lookink for... to talk to Keery Veaver? I em Russian, pliss, my
English for to speak, no so good. I em... friend Yuri Zhiv-- Zhivko."
Luka caught the reference as Nik began to give the name, and smacked
Nik's shoulder; he quickly changed direction on the name. "I'm on hold,"
he informed Luka, and handed the phone over. "She'd better be worth it."

"This is Dr Weaver." She sounded a little cross, and Luka hoped that she
wasn't taking out any of her frustrations on the staff.

"Hey, beba," he said, smiling at the sound of her voice.

"Wh-- uh, Y-Yuri," she stammered. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," Luka agreed. "I can't talk very long, this is an
international call, so... uh... how are you?" Nik smirked at the way
Luka's face had softened, the moment he heard her voice.

"Good. I, uh, got the delivery I was expecting." *Delivery*? What was
she talking about-- oh.

"Shto? Oh, your period. That's good... I guess. Um. How are y-- I just
said that, didn't I?" He laughed a little awkwardly, a little
disappointed that she wasn't 'in the family way'. But maybe it was just
as well - if she'd been pregnant, he would have wanted to return home
immediately, before he'd finished doing what he came here to do.

"Mm-hm. How about you?"

"I've been bette-- excuse me." Nik was gesturing at him. "Rekao sam, chu
platiti! My brother," Luka explained. "He worries too much!" That
comment was clearly directed at both Kerry and Nik, and Nik lunged for
the phone. They struggled for a moment, but Nik stomped on his foot at
the last minute and took the phone away from him, as Luka bit back a
yelp and mouthed a few choice words. Nik just *had* to hear what this
woman sounded like on the phone!

"Hey, so you're Luka's woman, huh?" Luka glowered at him - at the tone
in his voice - and glanced at Vesna for support, but she'd gone back to
her latest project... her body language clearly said Leave me out of it!
"You love him, right?"

"That would be an accurate assessment," she said carefully. Nik passed
on the affirmative answer with a quick nod; Luka just glared at him, and
reached out for the phone, but Nik wasn't done tormenting Luka over this
*just* yet.

"Hm." Vesna had told him that she'd seen a picture of Luka's Kerry,
earlier (although she refused to go into specifics, as to exactly *what*
the woman looked like), and he was trying to use his imagination to put
a face to the voice he'd heard. There was a touch of squeakiness to her
voice, on top of the authoritative tone that she obviously tried to
maintain whenever possible, and her accent had the nasality that Nik
usually associated with most of the Americans he met. "I'll hand you
back over to my brother, then." He gave it back to Luka, who'd begun to
arm for war, and smiled sweetly.

"Odjebi!" Luka snapped at Nik, who just laughed. Then he turned his
attention back to the phone. "What are you wearing?" He could hear Vesna
clucking from her post.

"My labcoat," she told him sweetly.

"And?" He wondered if she was wearing that oatmeal-colored turtleneck
that he liked, although Chicago was probably starting to get a little
too warm for her to wear *that*. Pity, that it would definitely be too
warm by the time he got back.

"Just that." His eyes widened at the thought. Oh... my. Not very likely,
that she'd *really* be wearing nothing but her labcoat at work, but the
thought of that "outfit" on her was extremely appealing. "I can send you
the materials, if you like," she offered.

"You mean... a picture of you... wearing... *just* your labcoat?" His
voice was soft, and a little hoarse, and got Nik's attention
immediately. Vesna, however, promptly cleared her throat, and Nik
transferred his attention back to her and the television... at least,
enough to cover up that he was still eavesdropping on Luka's end of the
call.

"That's right, Yuri," she told him briskly, and he quickly gave her the
address where he was. "All right. I'll get that to you as soon as
possible. Until then, I hope you can make do with the materials you
have." He was silent for a moment, thinking about that *second* picture
in his wallet.

"Oh. How'd you find out I had *that* picture?"

"I'll let you know in my correspondence, Yuri." He chuckled at that, and
was tempted to say something *really* outrageous to try to get a rise
out of her.

"Volim te, Kerry," he told her instead.

"Volim te, *Yuri*," she said quickly and quietly, after a short pause;
Luka promptly irritated her by laughing again, softly. He was pretty
sure that she'd taken a second to look around before saying that. Never
mind that, as far as he knew, nobody in that place spoke Croatian... or
even *Russian*, for that matter (although the Russian words weren't even
the same), she didn't want to take the risk that somebody *might*
overhear her telling him that she loved him. It hurt, sometimes, that
she didn't seem to want to acknowledge their relationship, but he
*needed* her too much to risk presenting her with an ultimatum. He
didn't want to push her like that, anyway. All he could do was stick by
her, continue to make it clear he wasn't going to walk out on her, and
hope that she'd eventually decide to trust him enough to go public.

Though he was beginning to suspect that a few more people knew about
them - or rather, had figured out about them - than he'd thought; he
knew that Abby, Mark, and Carter were aware that he and Kerry were
seeing each other, and he knew that Haleh knew he was dating *somebody*
at the hospital (and after that Easter party, he had a feeling she'd
figured out exactly *who* at the hospital he was dating!). He'd
intercepted the occasional curious glance from some of the nurses, and
wasn't sure what to think of the sly little smirks he sometimes got from
Randi, so he wasn't sure what *that* meant.

"I'll see you when I get back, draga. You got my postcard?"

"Yes! I received that just yesterday. Thank you." The front of the card
had had a split picture - the left side was of a town in ruins, and the
right showed it, rebuilt. The caption on the back was "Vukovar: Iz rata
u miru". He'd found it in the airport gift shop, of all places, along
with a couple of postcards with pictures of the Dalmatian coast that he
wanted to send her. There was one place in particular that he had in
mind to take her one day, and he wanted to make sure that it was still
there... still the same as he remembered it. He supposed, though, that
it was possible that it had been blown up at some point during the war,
or built over in the course of the years since he'd last been there.

"You're welcome. We'll... probably be going down to visit our parents,
and then, uh, up to Vukovar, for... well... you know, so I don't know
how quickly I'll get anything you send. But I'll keep sending you
postcards and letters, okay?"

"Yes, I realize that. Until next time, then?" This was definitely a time
he wished he could reach out and touch her through the phone line - he
was missing her so much right now that he hurt just thinking about her.

"Da. See you later, beba. Vidimo se."

"Bye." He hung up, and quickly swiped at his eyes before he turned
around again. Sure enough, Nik and Vesna were staring at him.

"That was beautiful," Vesna declared. "Why don't *you* ever talk to me
like that on the phone?" she demanded of Nik.

"Because he's already got you," Luka cracked.

"Oh, yeah, smart guy," Nik retorted, and they started wrestling
playfully, as the girls took that as their cue to jump into this new
game. Luka soon found himself at the bottom of a pile that consisted of
his brother and nieces. "So we're going to visit Mum and Dad, are we?"
Luka shrugged - or at least, moved the parts of his shoulders that were
still mobile.

"Why not? At the very least, *I* should head down there - I owe them a
visit, after all." Nik wasn't about to point out to Luka that he did
*not* owe their parents any visits - that was just the quickest path to
an argument, and he didn't want to argue.

"Well, we *were* going to go down there soon anyway. Another week, and
you would have missed us. You'll be a nice surprise for them."

"And... for Danijela's family." He supposed it was possible that his
difficulty in getting out the quiet words could have something to do
with Marija digging her little knee into his back, but doubted it.

"Ah. Danijela's family. Yes." Nik's voice was serious. He'd run into Mr
and Mrs Novoselic, the last time he'd been down to Sibenik for a visit,
and they'd asked how Luka was doing... despite their grief, still just
as strong after all that time, they'd seemed genuinely happy when he'd
told them that their son-in-law seemed to be doing well, judging from
letters. He thought that Luka probably *would* be a nice surprise for
them.

* * *

Luka woke with a start, choking off the beginnings of a scream, and got
up, clicking on the light before he went for his wallet and returned to
bed, where he took out both pictures, and stared at them - one on each
knee - for a long time... even when Marija came into the room and
crawled up onto the bed with him, and snuggled into his side, her thumb
casually parked in her mouth.

"Who's that?" She pointed at the older picture with one chubby little
finger, and Luka smiled.

"That's your Aunt Danijela, and your cousin Jasna. They died a long time
before you were born."

"Oh. And who's that?"

"That's... that's Kerry."

"Is she a friend of yours?"

"Yes. A very good friend. And if she says yes later, after I go home
again, and agrees to marry me, she'll be your Aunt Kerry."

"Oh." There was a moment of silence, punctuated by the occasional chirp
as Marija sucked on her thumb. "She's pretty."

"Yes, she's very pretty. And nice, and funny, and very, very smart. And,
she's a doctor, too. Just like I am." He gave Marija a little hug. "And
now, this doctor is saying that you should be going back to bed now,
huh? C'mon. I have a couple of things I need to do."

"'kay. G'night, Uncle Luka."

"Good night, Marija." She scooched to the edge of the bed and carefully
levered herself down, then left him alone with his thoughts again. He
reached for the notepad he kept by the bed, and started yet another
letter to Kerry. He'd gone with Vesna to the store this morning, and got
some film developed; now he selected a few pictures from the packet, and
set them aside to include with this letter. He'd taken pictures of Nik
and Vesna and the girls, and of the flowering tree in the front yard.

"Beloved Kerry - it's late at night here, and I woke from a dream a
little while ago. Marija - I told you about her in a previous letter,
and am enclosing a picture of her with her parents and sisters - came in
for a little while and I was telling her all about you. Well... not
*all*. I didn't tell her how sexy you look when you've just come, with
your face glowing and your eyes still smouldering and a little hazy with
desire.

"And I didn't tell her how much I'll want to take you in my arms when I
get home, and unbutton your blouse, kissing each square inch of skin as
I uncover it... slowly working my way down, undressing you completely,
but finally returning to pay attention to your breasts, that you'd
thought I'd forgotten. How could I? I wish I was cupping them right now,
with your silky soft skin a noticeable contrast to the calluses on my
hands, that always manage to find your most sensitive spots. I think of
the way you would sigh when I take one of your breasts in my mouth, and
gently nip and suck at your nipple as my hand eases between your thighs
- my fingers parting your labia and finding your little praline,
massaging it until you start making those little kitten noises."

He paused, to collect himself - he wasn't entirely sure whether or not
Kerry knew any French, but figured she could at least figure out from
context that he wasn't literally talking about candy. Though he'd
certainly nibbled on it more than a few times, and thoroughly enjoyed
the taste. Thoroughly *missed* it, for that matter. Missed her... missed
everything about her. Her scent, her taste, the feel of her body
entwined with his after a long night of loving that had left them both
pleasantly relaxed and languorously unconcerned with the rest of the
world.

He shifted position - as much to ease the tension in the muscles of his
leg, as to ease the pressure on certain other parts of his lower body -
and went back to writing. "Then, as you start to twine your fingers in
my hair, letting me know that you're getting *very* close, I would stand
up. Maybe tease you a little and let you think that I had to go do
something else, like work on charts downstairs, before I got undressed,
too. I get hard just thinking about you, you know - sometimes I'm
grateful for the long labcoat I wear at work, because the patients would
perhaps be a little disturbed if they knew how I was reacting so
strongly just to the *thought* of you. For that matter, how much of the
*staff* would be disturbed by the thought, that there's a side of you
they never see?

"I would stretch you out on the bed, Kerry, so that I can have a
leisurely look at you... feast my eyes on you, before I join you on the
bed, kneeling in front of you for a moment and then kissing my way up
your legs - both of them! - before I pull your knees apart and sink
gently between them. You smell musky, almost sweet, and I would pause
again - just enjoying your scent - before moving in a little closer and
touch you with my tongue for the first time in weeks. I expected you to
buck, so I took the precaution of holding down your hips before the
first delicate stroke. I would lick you gently a few times, as our
bodies become re-acquainted again, and then pull your hips against my
face, hard, as I suck on you in earnest and nibble at you... very, very
gently. You remember how much you like it, when I hum against you? I
miss *humming*, beba, almost as much as I miss *you*." He shifted
position again, and carried on with writing.

"I'll want to make you come at least once - maybe twice, depending on
how long I can last - before I make my way up your body, kissing and
caressing you the entire way, until we're in each other's arms. I'll
kiss your lips, and brush your hair away from your face as I slide into
you - you're so slippery by now that I don't need to do anything more
than be in the right place - then kiss your eyelids as your eyes squeeze
shut for a moment and you clamp down on me. The feel of your legs
wrapping around my waist, as I begin to thrust into you, it's so good...
I'll take your hand in mine and kiss your fingers, nibbling occasionally
as I continue to move, kiss your palm very gently. The sounds you make
are like music to my ears - I love being able to make you feel so good -
and I'll reach down with my right hand briefly, to caress the scars on
your hip."

He continued to write, and thought about how he'd confounded Kerry when
he began doing that - he had already liked to run his hand all over her
body, not *quite* touching her, a few millimeters away from her skin,
and she seemed to like that. He was matter-of-fact about her leg and her
limp; he suspected that he'd surprised her with his quiet "Oh. Okay."
after she'd told him why she limped. He certainly *tried* not to take it
easy on her just because of her disability - any favoritism he showed
her was strictly because she was a woman, and that was simply how he'd
been raised. The first time he'd kissed her hip, where the scar tissue
was, she'd accused him of trying to be "funny". Not at all, he'd assured
her, and he'd traced the scar delicately with the tip of his tongue as
she moaned, very quietly.

"When you come, it's like a force of nature in my arms - I sometimes
wonder if you'll survive, or tear yourself apart. For that matter, I
sometimes wonder if *I'll* survive the experience: you are an incredible
woman, and I thank God every day, that I was lucky enough to meet and
love - and be loved by! - you. I can't wait until I'm done here, and I
can return home to you. All of my love, Luka." He pulled the pages out
of the notepad, and folded them around the pictures, then got an
envelope out of the box he'd bought when he first arrived. There were
more than enough envelopes for him to write plenty of letters to Kerry,
and he planned to leave the rest for Nik and Vesna to use. He got the
envelope sealed and addressed, then put a stamp on it and took it to the
box by the front door, to be put out for collection.

* * *

He heard the whispering before the young women came into view: "It's
him!" "Are you sure, Josie?" "It's got to be him, Astrid, look at that
face and that body!" He thought a moment... no, couldn't be. Though he'd
gotten a few strange looks at the summer festival:  there had been some
people who were convinced that he looked like one of the actors. He
didn't see the resemblance, though, and had shrugged it off. Well, maybe
they were talking about someone else. Sure enough, though, there was a
gentle tap on his arm a moment later, across the thoroughly bemused man
sitting next to him. "Aren't you...?"

"No, I'm not." They looked him over carefully.

"Huh. You look *just* like him--"

"Well, he *is* different," the other one pointed out. "More grey. And no
ring. C'mon, Josie." The two women walked away dejectedly, and Luka
sighed in relief. But the relief was short-lived - the man sitting next
to him diffidently tapped him on the shoulder now.

"'Scuse me. Hey. Why didn't you go ahead and tell them you were... well,
whoever they thought you were? You coulda scored with them, *easily*."
Luka had nothing to say to that, merely gave the man a revolted look and
turned away. There just wasn't any way to answer the question that
someone like that man would understand.

--
Ellen K. Hursh
"You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I
thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the
terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them?
So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of
the universe." --Ranger Marcus Cole
* * *
"Whoa, I'm eleven hundred years old. I had trouble adjusting to the idea
of Lutherans." --Anya, "I Was Made to Love You"