Catch A Falling Star
Part Seven
By Miesque
miesque48@hotmail.com

RATING: PG-13
SETTING: End of S7
CATEGORY: A Luka Kovac/Kerry Weaver Story (8/?) Humor/comfort/angst/romance

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Luka and Kerry. If I did, they would currently be married and expecting their first baby. ;) Warner Bros., Amblin Entertainment, NBC and several other guys in $uit$ do own them. I’m just borrowing them for a while.

QUOTE: I Corinthians 13:4-7
SONG: ‘Catch A Falling Star’, performed by Block, but they didn’t cover the last verse. Originally performed by Perry Como. Anyway, it’s a great song, IMVHO.
SYNOPSIS: Kerry tells Luka about her past and asks Luka a very serious question.

SPOILERS: Maybe a hint or two of stuff that happened in S6, and hints of stuff seen in spoilers for S7, about which I am severely in denial (although, considering the ‘progress’, or lack thereof, of a certain relationship, I’m actually beginning to take heart).

THANKS TO: My three wonderful friends (and editors) for constant and steady encouragement. And thanks to Ellen Hursh for much needed inspiration and trains of thought.



Kerry wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. In situations like this, she felt like a complete WASP. Luka, on the other hand, used his hands, his shoulders, his face...his entire body...to express his thoughts, besides spoken words. He was looking at her now, one eyebrow raised, brimming with curiosity.

“All right, what is it?”

She breathed in slowly, wringing her hands, chewing nervously on her lower lip. “Uh...well...sit down.”

He sighed and plopped down on the bed, long legs stretched out, waiting. He folded his hands, cracking his knuckles.

“Luka, you’ve told me a lot about your past. About...about your childhood, your marriage...”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I think maybe it’s time I started telling you about...about my past.”

“Okay, so long as it doesn’t involve white slavery or bank robbery, I think I can take damned near anything.”

“I’m being serious, Luka.”

“As usual.”

“Okay. Well. Let’s see. Where do I start?”

“Oh, God, you ran a call-girl service in Boston, didn’t you?”

“Luka!”

“Sorry.” He snickered, then saw the expression on her face. She looked positively stricken. As if what she was about to tell him was really awful. “I’m sorry, Kerry. Go on. Tell me.”

“As I was saying.” She paused for a moment, struggling to find the right words. This was hardly earth-shattering information, but it frightened her to reveal this piece of her past to him. “Luka, you know I was adopted?”

“Yeah. You have given me a few sketchy details.” From what little she’d told him, though, it was a painful subject for her and he had sensed that it wasn’t a good idea, for now, to really ask her about it. There was time enough for that.

“Well, that’s not...uh...where I wanted to start anyway. I spent some time in Africa.” She began to pace a bit, which worried him. She only paced when nervous or agitated. And it doubly concerned him because of her leg.

“Yeah...”

“And after I graduated from medical school...”

“In Africa?”

“No. I went to New Western. Remember Gabe Lawrence?”

“Vaguely. He was your mentor, right?”

“Yes. And then, while I was at Mt. Sinai, I...I...uh...”

Luka processed this piece of information for a moment, wondering where she was going until it dawned on him rather easily. “You met a man and...married him, right?”

“Yes!” She responded excitedly, relieved that he had figured it out.

“Okay. What was his name?”

“Ben. Benjamin.”

“Benjamin Weaver?”

“No. No..after he died, I went back to my...my maiden name.”

“He died?”

“Yes. He was a surgical resident. Benjamin Andrews.”

Luka held her gaze calmly, never wavering. He simply waited for a moment, then asked, “And what happened to him?”

“It was ten years ago. August the sixteenth, nineteen-ninety-one. We were on our way home from a party and a drunk driver...” She paused. All day, she had been allowing herself to remember it. The horrific crash, the sound of metal and glass scraping and shattering against hard concrete, the blinding pain, the screaming sirens, the bright lights of the emergency room, voices around her, hands on her body, a tube down her throat. Her mother’s tears, her father’s stricken expression. Thank God Ben had been killed instantly; that he hadn’t actually felt anything, according to the EMTs...her own injuries had been terrible. The doctors had marveled she was even able to walk, six months later.

Six months of painful rehabilitation, railing against everyone, refusing any help, rejecting the people that loved her. After a while, her friends had stopped coming around, finding it too painful to cope with her rage. She had recovered well enough, physically, from the pain and loss to dedicate herself entirely toward her goal of being chief resident, then ER chief...now, those goals she had achieved seemed so empty - there had been a hole in her heart until Luka had come into her life.

“A drunk driver took my world away from me. A nineteen-year old kid on his way home from a University of Chicago kegger.”

“Your husband died in the crash?” Luka asked her simply.

“Yes.”

“I’m so sorry, Kerry.” His voice was soft she almost didn’t hear him.

“So am I,” she whispered, wiping tears from her eyes.

“You loved him?”

She swallowed, pinked, and nodded. “Yes. With my whole heart. He was a wonderful man, Luka. One of the best men I ever have the privelege of knowing. You would have liked him...and he would have liked you. He was wonderful...not perfect. But when I think about him, I can’t help but...”

“Smile," he finished the sentence for her. "I can see you loved him. It's good that you obviously have happy memories of him.”

Kerry nodded, struggling to keep her tears at bay. Rarely did she really allow herself to think about Ben. “I know what love is, Luka. Just like you. I mean, at our wedding...I’m not a terribly religious person...maybe I’m just more spiritual than anything else, whatever that means. But I requested that those verses about love be read before the service. ‘Love is patient, love is kind...’”

Luka recited the lines for her, from memory.


‘Love suffereth long,
and is kind.
Love envieth not,
Love vaunteth not itself,
is not puffed up.
Doth not behave itself unseemly,
seeketh not her own,
is not easily provoked,
thinketh no evil;
Rejoiceth not in iniquity,
but rejoiceth in the truth;
Beareth all things,
believeth all things,
hopeth all things,
endureth all things.
Love never fails.’


He had said the words as though he truly believed them, and she realized that she did, too. She had never had a problem believing in the existence of God. As her mother had said so often, God equals hope, and hope equals love. Pretty simplistic. Maybe even childish. No...not childish. Childlike. And what was wrong with that, anyway? Maybe the problem with the world was that people had forgotten how to be childlike.

Watching him, Kerry folded her hands again, too nervous to speak for a moment. Usually, she could get a clue as to what was going on in his head by the expression on his face. Light and shadow had a way of combining on his features to add mystery to him, but in the past few months Kerry had learned how to read him pretty well. But maybe it was her own fear of the unknown, or her insecurity, that kept her from being able to read him now.

“When he died, I was so angry, Luka. I was so bitter. I figured it would be easier for me to strike first...to hurt people before they could hurt me. It took me a long time to get past that. I was angry at God, I was angry at myself...I was angry with everyone.”

Luka made a slight affirmative gesture with his head, but his eyes didn’t leave her face. He was still studying her, forming his words carefully. “All this time I thought you hadn’t known what it was like. I guess I underestimated you.”

“How do you mean?”

“I think I figured I was superior to you in some way...and for that, I am very sorry. Because I had known what it was like to love someone, and to lose them, but I figured you hadn't experienced it yourself. I loved my wife, Kerry. With my whole heart. When she died, I wasn’t angry or bitter...I was too numb to feel anything. For eight years I was a zombie. Going through the motions of living day by day. But when the numbness went away and I started to feel again...”

“You were angry. I remember.”

“Yes. I was. I was furious.”

“It’s natural.” She unfolded her hands, and was surprised when he took them in his, pulling her to him.

“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Kerry. I’m not deluding myself here. The way I love you is different from how I loved my wife. And I’m sure it’s that way for you. But just because it’s different doesn’t mean it isn’t real. It doesn’t make it any less...amazing.”

“First loves are always so special. Ben was my first love. But I’m glad he wasn’t my only love.” She breathed in slowly. “I’m so relieved you understand, Luka. You...you do understand, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do.” He suddenly laughed. “What, Kerry, did you expect me turn my back on you because you were loved by someone else...that you loved somebody else, long ago? That’s what we all want, isn’t it? To be loved? Why would I hold that against you? Do you hold it against me, that I loved my wife?”

“Of course not.”

“Then...hello. I’m Luka Kovac. Widower.”

She smiled. “I'm Kerry Weaver. Widow.”

“And the only thing I really know now is that I love Kerry Weaver.”

Her cheeks pinked, and she looked down. That dropping of her eyelashes, the slight dip of her head - it had to be the sexiest thing Luka had ever seen. He stared up at her, transfixed, amazed.

“And all I know is that I love Luka Kovac.” All day, she had been worrying herself to death over nothing. As if a man like Luka would turn his back on her and walk away over this oddly small issue...she had made it far too much of a big deal. This revelation had only strengthened their bonds to each other.

Luka pulled Kerry into his lap, cradling her against his chest. Shyly, almost as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed, she touched his face with her fingertips, running them along the elegant lines of his cheekbones. Then she traced her fingertip down the bridge of his nose to the tip. For a brief moment, she paused before tracing the lines of his jaw with her thumbs until they met at the very center of his chin, beneath his mouth. All that time, she held his gaze, staring into those mysterious smoky-green eyes, seeing something burning there. At this moment, though, her gaze settled on his mouth. Then she removed her hands from his face and buried her fists under her chin, like a small child who'd been being caught doing something naughty, and peered at him, her cheeks even pinker, her eyes glowing.

She looked breathtaking to Luka. How she still managed to think so little of herself still astonished him.

There was electricity in the air now. Kerry could feel it on her skin - she could have sworn the hair on the back of her neck was standing up straight. What was it about this man? No man...not Ben, not Mlunglisi, not Ellis West...had been able to arouse her like this. Every time she saw him, her breath quickened, her heart raced. She felt a tightness in her belly, and a strange, but very familiar, something in her breasts and between her thighs. It was no use denying that she had felt that twinge the first time she’d met Luka. She had been instantaneously drawn to him.

Luka gently cupped her face in his hands before brushing his mouth across hers. She responded eagerly, but he wouldn’t let her take control. His kisses were gentle...so soft and sweet that she felt herself melting against him, caressing his shoulders, but obeying his silent command to wait. It was so erotic, being kissed like this. Being loved like this. It was like a dream.



Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Never let it fade away
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Save it for a rainy day

For love may come and tap you on the shoulder some starlit night
And if you feel that you want to hold her
You’ll get a pocketful of starlight

For love may come and tap you when you’re older, and pick a fight
And if case you feel you need to hold her
You’ll need to find her in the stars tonight

For when your troubles start multiplyin’, and they just might
It’s easy to forget them without tryin’
With just a pocketful of starlight

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Never let it fade away
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Save it for a rainy day
Save it for a rainy day...



Kerry didn’t mind his weight on her body. She wouldn’t have cared if he’d fallen asleep now. But she knew he wasn’t asleep. His fingers were stroking her hair, and he was nibbling gently at her neck. She smiled to herself - he had called out her name when they’d climaxed together. That was always made it so satisfying for her - to know that she was able to satisfy him.

Now, he was being lazy, stretched out over her, relaxing, cooling down. He was often like this in the mornings, especially when it was chilly (at her house, she kept the temperature considerably lower than what he was apparently used to). Eventually, though, he would disengage himself, roll onto his side, and pull her into his arms, cuddling her. And hotel rooms being what they are, Kerry didn’t have any problem with being warmed ‘naturally’. At any rate, no matter where they were, after making love, she and Luka usually had to go on recon missions to find their clothes. Cold hotel room, his warm bungalow, her moderately heated bedroom - it didn’t matter. Kerry had learned that Luka much preferred that she be totally naked when they made love. He was European, which made it all that much more fun, since he didn’t have any inhibitions about being undressed. Of course, he was only ever undressed for her. Isn’t that why they’re called private parts?

Luka lifted up onto his elbows and grinned down at her. “Morning.”

“What time is it, d’ya suppose?” she asked sleepily, stretching. My God, I’m still trembling, she thought.

“Beats me. Doesn’t matter.”

“Very true.” She sighed happily, wrapping her arms around him. He moved away, onto his side, and, to her delight, pulled her to him, making sure her belly was rubbing against his own. Kerry kissed his chest, hearing him moan when she started rubbing her tongue against his nipple.

“Can I ask you something?” she whispered.

“Well...yes, I know I’m a hunk. And no, I don’t like to brag about it,” he said, teasing her gently.

She giggled and kissed him.

“No, silly. I want to ask you something.”

“Okay. Ask.”

Kerry looked up at him, taking a deep breath before going ahead. “Will you marry me?”

“Okay.”

“Don’t you want to think..?”

“Okay.” He was staring intently into her eyes, and she pinked up.

“I suppose I should have let you ask first.”

“Eh, it would have only been another few hours anyway.”

“Just a few more hours? What would you have said?”

“Well, the same thing you said. ‘Will you marry me?’ I never was into sap, Kerry...I was never any good at it anyway. Flowers were always my speed, not flowery speech. I asked my wife to marry me...well, she was girlfriend at the time, to be technical...during the Dubrovnik Summer Festival. And yes, I was sober at the time. So was she...which makes it even stranger than she accepted so eagerly...but seriously, the wedding yesterday got me thinking about it a lot. I should make an honest woman of you, draga. I’m ready to be committed.”

Kerry laughed. “Aren’t we all! And my answer is a hearty ‘Yes!’”

He smirked at her, and she smacked him on the arm.

“I’m very glad to hear that. Now, go to sleep.”

“Goofball!”

“All right, you just lost a few more hours of sleep, Kerry Weaver,” he scolded.

“And what, pray tell, is to be my punishment?”

“Hot monkey love, baby!”

She hoped they wouldn’t end up waking up the entire hotel, but...dammit, she didn’t care.

TO BE CONTINUED...

--
Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys.
~P.J. O'Rourke, "Parlaiment of Whores"
You can't have everything. Where would you put it?
~Stephen Wright

Eclipse, all nags compared to thee
Excite contempt and laughter
There never was a horse, I do believe
So much run after.
~18th century English doggerel