The Eternal Quadrangle
Part Eight
By Scott J. Welles and Cathy Roberts
huntersglenn@yahoo.com

This is in response to Ellen's challenge for a Luka Kovac/Abby Lockhart/John Carter/Kerry Weaver story. We don't own these characters, Warner Brothers has that honor -- We're only borrowing them and not making any money from the borrowing. This is rated NC-17 for slash and adult content, and definitely has spoilers for the current season.

Now, on with the story:



Kerry awoke slowly, feeling the return of the familiar emptiness. She'd come to live with it, and it was so much a part of her familiar world that she hadn't noticed it until it was gone, the void filled by the welcome addition of a lover. But now it was back in force.

She rolled creakily out of bed, reaching for the stereo remote. A former tenant had rigged it so she could use the remote from any room in her house, and the first thing she did, most days, was to fill the space with music. Aretha, maybe, or Grace, or Whitney. Passionate, strong women's voices that banished the silent loneliness. She remembered putting a Tina Turner CD on the five-disc changer the night before. A good rendition of "Proud Mary" or "What's Love Got To Do With It" could normally wake her up faster than a hot cup of coffee.

But today, she let it sit. Some masochistic impulse compelled her to fully experience the emptiness.

Staggering into the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror, feeling her age keenly. "Waking up alone is a bitch," she said out loud.

Takes one to know one, her reflection snarled at her. The way you slapped Carter away...

Okay, fine, so I'm a bitch, she thought, bitterly turning away from those accusatory eyes. But at least I told John the truth. I didn't string him along, thinking I was in love with him. She told herself several times that she'd done the right thing, but her body...her heart...didn't believe her.

Kerry fixed herself a bowl of cereal for breakfast - when she had guests or boarders, she liked to cook, but when it was just for herself, she ate simply and plainly. Over shredded wheat, she glumly considered her impending return to celibacy. She could handle that if she absolutely had to. God knew she'd done it before.

Three years since Ellis, another lover she'd pushed away at the first pretext. Three long, lonely years with only her fantasies to comfort her, then the unexpected opening of a new door by Kim Legaspi. The lovely blonde woman who'd shown her a new side of herself. That relationship, too, had ended soon after it had begun, and then there was John. John, John, John...

No, wait, there was someone else. That brief encounter with Abby Lockhart, some nights ago. Kerry smiled wryly to herself, remembering with some frustration how their coupling had been curtailed before her end of things could be consummated.

Say, that raised an interesting line of thought. Abby still owed her; she'd had her fun under Kerry's attentions, and had promised to reciprocate when she could. They'd spoken idly of getting together again on the drive to the hospital, and even hinted that Luka might join them - now THERE was an attractive prospect!

Of course, it was possible Luka might not be interested in such a threesome with her. Or maybe he wouldn't approve of his girlfriend sleeping with Kerry. If that was how it was, then Kerry would just have to accept that. As much as she enjoyed sex, she didn't want to screw up Abby and Luka's relationship over it. Well, it never hurt to ask. If it didn't work out, it didn't work out. But she was fervently hoping it would.

Sex with Abby and/or Luka seemed especially attractive right now, since there wouldn't be any emotional baggage involved. She would just be an interesting variation for them, and casual sex was about all Kerry could deal with right now. Even if it was only Abby, that would be no problem; Abby had said that her interest in other women was only recreational, not romantic, and that was all Kerry was looking for.

The more she thought about it, the more her hopes rose, and she resolved to approach the other woman at the first opportunity. Even a temporary sexual partner was better than none. The thought of being alone for another three years was more than she wanted to deal with.



"Hi."

Abby looked up from the coffeepot and the cup she was pouring. "Oh, hi, Kerry," she said with a tired smile. "Want some?"

Given the reason for her approach, Kerry thought that was a natural straight line, but she just held out her own cup and said, "Sure, thanks. How's your day been?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. It'd be okay, except Malucci keeps treating the nurses like they work for him, instead of with him."

Kerry nodded understandingly. "Talk to Lydia or Haleh," she suggested. "They've got some tips on how to put uppity residents in their place."

Abby frowned reluctantly. "I dunno, I don't think those two like me much."

"Yes, they do," Kerry assured her. "They just like to give you a hard time to pass the day, is all. Honest."

"Okay," the nurse said with a relieved smile. "Thanks."

There was a moment when either of them might have walked away and ended the conversation, but then Kerry said, "So, I was wondering if you might like to have some cocoa with me again sometime?"

Abby's eyebrows went up just a touch, showing she read Kerry's meaning perfectly. "Oh, yeah, you mean like last time?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"We never did finish our...conversation, did we?"

"No." Kerry let herself smile ever so slightly. "We didn't."

"Sure," Abby told her. "I'd like that."

"I mean, if that's all right with Luka, of course," Kerry hastened to add. "Or...do you think he likes cocoa, too?"

Abby's smile widened. "I think he might like some. Extra strong, and extra sweet, just the way you make it."

Kerry almost blushed at the devilish glint in Abby's eye when she said that, and she was glad no one else was in the lounge to overhear. She smiled and turned to go back to work.

"You know," Abby said behind her, almost hesitantly, "John is especially fond of your cocoa..."

Kerry froze, stiffly. The smile and the warm glow vanished. "Yes, well," she said, "that's all over between us now."

"Yeah, he told me," Abby said. "What happened? I thought you two were getting pretty close, finally."

Too close, Kerry thought. Out loud, she said, "We just were looking for different things, that's all. Carter was looking for True Love or something like that."

"And you weren't?"

"I told you, Abby, I don't fall in love." She scowled. "Truth is, I don't think anyone does. It's just one of those delusions people buy into because it sounds nobler than compatibility."

Abby set down her coffee cup and crossed her arms. "Gee, that's a lovely thought," she said. "You ever write greeting cards for Hallmark?"

"What, you disagree with me?" Kerry asked, turning on her. "You think I should have lied to John and told him I loved him, and then we'd get married and live happily ever after? Come on, Abby, you should know better than that. Look how your marriage turned out."

"Kerry, that's not a fair comparison..."

"Your husband cheated on you and sabotaged your tuition," Kerry overrode her. "And your fucked-up marriage is only one example. Frankly, you got off easy." She swallowed a gulp of coffee. It was pretty bad, as usual, but she needed the caffeine.

Abby stared at her, her pretty features hardening. "That was a really rotten thing to say to me," she said at last. "You don't know everything about my marriage, about the good times we might have had. You don't know about anyone's marriage, for that matter!"

"Except my own," Kerry cut in.

That took Abby back a step. "You were married?"

Kerry nodded, shortly.

"I didn't know that..."

"You didn't know that because you never asked me," Kerry interrupted her, bitterly, "and I didn't volunteer that little bit of information because it was none of your fucking business."

Abby flinched, as though stung. "I'm sorry..."

"And it's also none of your business what I do or don't do with John Carter, or anyone else. Just because I had sex with you one time doesn't mean you know enough about me to give me relationship advice, okay? So you go home and fuck Luka all you want to, or do whatever the hell else you want with your life, but DON'T you tell me what to do with mine!" She angrily jabbed a finger into Abby's breastbone for emphasis.

The shock and hurt on Abby's face, mere inches from her own, was writ large. "Sure, okay," she stammered. "No problem."

Kerry stepped back, trying to bring herself under control. She didn't meet Abby's gaze.

"So...does this mean the cocoa's off?" Abby ventured.

"Yeah, I think it does," Kerry admitted.

"Fine," Abby replied, flatly.

"Look, just forget I came in here, okay?" Kerry said. "Forget the whole thing."

"Fine," Abby repeated. "Whatever you say, Dr. Weaver, you're the boss. Whatever happens, you're always the boss, aren't you?" She pushed past Kerry and left the lounge in a huff.

Oh, shit, Kerry thought. That was not my smoothest moment.



"She just went off on me!" Abby told Luka, later that evening. "I don't know what happened. One minute, she's propositioning me, and the next, she's ripping my head off over nothing!"

Luka stood behind her chair, gently rubbing her shoulders. "I'm sorry that happened," he said in his deep, soft voice.

"I keep thinking back over it, wondering if maybe I did something to deserve that? Maybe I said something wrong, or I acted snotty or mean? But I can't think of what I might have done like that."

"Abby..." He kissed the top of her head. "It's not your doing. You know what Kerry's like, and how she treated John. Kerry finds it easier to hurt people than let them in."

"God, she's so prickly," Abby grumped. "She's uptight, controlling, and downright bitchy. She walks around with a bigger stick up her ass than the one she leans on! And you know what's the worst thing about her?"

"What?"

Abby closed her eyes, let her head fall back, and let out her breath. "The fact that I know all that, and I still want to go to bed with her again."

Luka laughed. He was about to say something in response, but the phone rang.

"Ugh. Leave it," Abby told him. "I don't want to talk to anyone right now." She didn't need to mention that the hospital would page them if their presence was required for an emergency, so there was reason they couldn't screen their calls.

The phone rang again, then clicked. "Hi, please leave a message," they heard Abby's recorded voice announce. The beep followed.

"Hi, Abby, it's Ker-- It's Dr. Weaver," said a familiar voice. "I just wanted to apologize for this afternoon. I didn't mean...I was out of line, and I'm sorry. Call me if you still want...never mind, I'm sorry. Um..." The voice paused uncertainly, then quickly said, "I'm sorry," again and hung up.

There was a moment of quiet.

"And the indecision rears its head again," Luka said.

Abby rubbed at her eyes and didn't say anything.

"You know what it is?" Luka spoke up after a bit. "She doesn't let herself have the things she wants. Given half a chance, she finds some way to sabotage things."

"Maybe she shouldn't be given half a chance," Abby muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I was thinking a while back that Kerry's problem is that she has to be in control all the time, so she's got a way out of anything, like you said. Makes you wonder what she'd do if she went into something that required her to surrender her control, doesn't it?" she said, wryly.

Luka stroked his chin. "You mean if she stepped into a situation, and then had no way of backing out of it?"

"Uh-huh. All or nothing. But she'd never go for anything like that."

"I don't know. She might, if she were properly intrigued."

Abby turned in her chair, looking at him. "What do you have in mind?"

He nodded toward Abby's answering machine. "She still wants to see you. Didn't you hear?"

She shook her head. "Even if she did, she'd just find a way out as soon as I said yes."

A slow, almost evil smile began to grow on his face. "Maybe not. I have an idea..."

He sat down next to her and made a few suggestions, and the more he talked, the more she liked the notion. They sat up late, refining details, exploring variations, until they had a scenario in mind that tickled their fancy no end.



The next day went slowly for Kerry. She interacted with John, Abby, and Luka tersely, showing them no more personal feeling than anyone else. In fact, the person who got the biggest reaction out of her was Robert Romano, who ridiculed her proposed budget alterations in front of the staff. If the son of a bitch was going to dismiss her ideas without reading them and call her an idiot for bringing the matter up, he could at LEAST have had the courtesy to do it in private instead of undermining her authority.

So Kerry was in a truly foul mood when she at last slammed into the locker room, fully determined to drive home in a blue funk, put on Ella Fitzgerald loud enough to make the neighbors' ears bleed, and drink herself silly.

But there was an envelope taped to her locker. STILL INTERESTED? Was all it said on the front. There was a simple cartoon drawing of a steaming coffee cup below the words.

Kerry froze.

Her first thought was to go ask Randi if she'd seen anyone carrying the envelope, or if she knew who might have put it there. But something told her that if the person responsible wanted her to know their names, they would say so in the envelope's contents. If they didn't, they'd fade into the woodwork.

She debated briefly, then opened the envelope. It contained a single sheet of paper, probably from one of the ER's printers...and a blindfold. Not a scarf or strip of cloth, but a real blindfold, like a domino mask without eyeholes. She knew some patients' families brought them in to help their relatives sleep in the unfamiliar hospital. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

The note read:

FOLLOW THESE INSTRUCTIONS.
1) AFTER YOUR SHIFT, GO TO YOUR CAR. SIT IN THE PASSENGER SEAT, LEAVING THE DOORS UNLOCKED AND THE KEYS IN THE IGNITION.
2) PUT THIS ON AND WAIT FOR THE FUN TO BEGIN.
THAT IS ALL. THIS IS A ONE-TIME OFFER.
PS: REMEMBER THESE TWO KEY WORDS: "STAT" MEANS NO. "CLEAR" MEANS STOP.

There was no signature.

Kerry read it, then read it again. There were a hundred and a half reasons why she should have been scared by the note. But then she glanced at the envelope again, at the drawing of the coffee mug. Or was it a cocoa mug? Was that a hint of the author or authors, and their intentions?

The smart thing, the sensible thing, would have been to call security. Hell, call the police! Get them involved, then maybe have them watch her car and see who showed up, and accost them for stalking. Under any other circumstances, that would have been Kerry's course of action. But now, for whatever reason, she went with her gut. She followed the written instructions, telling no one.

So, minutes later, she was sitting placidly in the front passenger seat of her own car, crutch by her side, hands folded in her lap. Wearing that damn blindfold. If this was some stupid practical joke being pulled on her by someone like Malucci, she'd...

Footsteps. More than one set.

Her left front and right rear doors opened, and she felt the car rock as two people got in.

Strong hands gripped her elbows and pulled her forearms backward, until her hands were behind her seat back. Gloved fingers held her at the wrists, immobilizing her. She heard the engine start.

Kerry was dying to ask who it was, and where they were going. But she knew that she couldn't make them answer her, and she wouldn't show weakness by asking. If they, whoever they were, wanted to make this a test of nerve, she would not come up short.

They drove for several minutes, and she tried to count the seconds in her head, judging turns by the changes in her equilibrium as best she could. But she doubted she'd be able to retrace their journey, or determine where they were going. What if a police officer noticed them driving around with a blindfolded woman and pulled them over to investigate? How would she explain things?

The car stopped, and the driver got out, circled around the car, and opened the door on her side. The hands holding hers released her. Reflexively, she took hold of the crutch, but the same hands pulled it away from her. That almost made her yell out in protest, but she kept silent.

Strong arms lifted her carefully out of the seat, carrying her like a child. One of them, therefore, was a big man. And he smelled familiar. Not someone she knew intimately, just someone she'd spent time around.

They went inside a building, up an elevator, down a hall, through a door. Then she was lowered to her feet. The big man stood close behind her, letting her lean on him, and took hold of her arms, pinning them again.

In the sudden stillness, Kerry realized her heart was beating rapidly. There was some nervousness, some fear, and, yes, some excitement. The sheer sensation of Not Knowing was almost overpowering.

A fingertip touched the tip of her nose, lightly, and she almost jumped. It was soft, the nail trimmed short. It ran lightly down to her lips, delicately traced their shape, then explored her chin.

Other fingers joined it, two, three, then four, running along her jawline, the curve of her cheek. Five more appeared on the other side of her face, all touching as lightly as a spider's footsteps. They caressed the bridge of her nose, up to where it was hidden by the blindfold, then followed her forehead up to her hairline, brushing gently through the roots. The first hand traced over the curve of her ear. Under their touch, Kerry seemed to perceive her own facial features as new, and for a moment, they seemed beautiful to her.

There was a faint tang in the air, as of someone else's breath, and Kerry had the feeling that another pair of lips was very near her own. She waited for the kiss, but none came. The tantalizing, teasing sensations were arousing her sharply.

Then she felt, or sensed, the other lips drawing back, and both hands ran down over her face and neck to her collar. They undid her coat, brushing over her breasts, then opened her blouse, baring skin to the air. Kerry felt a warm tingling running all over her.

The man holding her arms made adjustments, letting the coat and blouse fall off her shoulders and slip to the floor. His grip returned to her bare arms. The other hands - Kerry thought of them as female, though she couldn't be certain - slipped around to her back and expertly unfastened her bra. Her nipples stiffened as the cool air flowed over them. Those hands, soft, smooth, and warm, ran over her breasts, cupping and caressing them, palms sliding over the erect peaks.

Then the hands moved down to her waistband. Her slacks were undone, slipped down over her hips and legs, followed closely by her underwear. She felt her shoes being removed, one then the other, and when she stepped out of the slacks, she was naked. Except, of course, for the blindfold covering her eyes. The big man behind her was still fully dressed, and the feeling of his coat against her bare back and buttocks was wonderfully erotic.

Hands took her knees, and the two abductors lifted Kerry carefully, carrying her only a short distance and laying her on a bed. She had had fantasies like this, on occasion, but this had the sharp immediacy of reality to it.

The big man and his partner flanked Kerry, each taking one of her wrists, and raising her arms above her head, out at angles like a capital Y. Then she felt something wrapping around her wrists, tying tightly into knots, and the hands released her. But then it was too late, and she was tied securely to the bedframe.

Only now did any real sense of fear come to her, as she realized she'd passed the point of no return. Whatever these people planned for her, she was helpless to prevent it. If that meant torture, rape, even murder, she was in for it. But, truthfully, she didn't think so. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but she couldn't believe that anything abusive was on the program for tonight. Then again, if she was wrong, and she ended up being sacrificed to some pagan deity like a virgin on the altar, she was really going to feel stupid.

She felt her two abductors leaning over her, and felt the anticipation peaking. Whatever was going to happen next, there was nothing she could do about it but wait and see how things went.

Here we go, she thought.