Instant Attraction, Part 19
Learning To Fly
By Miesque
miesque48@hotmail.com

SPOILERS: Well, “May Day” was the last eppy of S6, so this is just stuff I hope happens in the coming seasons on “ER”.. :)
STORY SYNOPSIS: Luka prepares for his ‘vacation’ and catches a clue.

DISCLAIMER 1: The characters of Luka Kovac and Kerry Weaver are the sole property of NBC, Warner Brothers, Amblin, and Constant C.  
DISCLAIMER 2: I don’t know much about medicine, so I threw in the urticaria case because it happened to me once and it was not pleasant.
DISCLAIMER 3: Long ago, when I was just a babe in the fanfic woods, I wrote a Luka/Kerry series that had them beginning a torrid affair in Hawaii. I can assure you all that this is not an extension of that old series.

SONG: ‘Learning to Fly’, by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

PREVIOUS INSTALLMENTS: Instant Attraction; Room For Rent; Fired; Blackout; On The Line; Point of Refuge; Heart to Heart; Double-Take; Broken Valentine; In Memory...; Paint It Black; Hope Springs Eternal; Bridges; My Brother’s Keeper; Getting the Shift; Sister Wolf; Before the Storm; Grounded



Luka woke up on Kerry’s couch, and couldn’t for the life of him remember how he got there. Last night’s dinner of Dalmatian pot roast had knocked him out, just as pot roast always did-it was as if beef and sauce contained some kind of sleep-inducing ingredient. He didn’t recall Davor and Isabelle leaving, or Kerry saying anything much after the dishes had been cleared away. It had been so quiet, and he had finally drifted into the living room and sat down.

Sitting up slowly, he rubbed his sore muscles, stretching away the normal aches and pains that came with each new day. He was getting older, after all. One more thing to deal with. If he could get over the bigger obstacles of his life-his actions of two days ago in particular-he was sure he could finally move on with his life, bad back or not.

Yawning, he padded into the kitchen, noting that someone had removed his shoes. Kerry was nowhere in sight, and so he made a pot of coffee, then chuckled to himself. If she drinks this stuff, she won’t sleep for a week, he thought. But it was too late. He drank a cup and felt the buzz.

Heading to the front door, he opened it and was smacked in the head by a newspaper. The delivery boy pedaled by on his dirt bike, yelling “Sorry!”.

“Little demon,” Luka muttered. “Join the Army...they need grenade-launchers!”

Nervously, he searched the front page for any mention of the school shooting, but there was only a small blurb, with nothing new. No mention, really, of him or Dr. Benton. Just that all three shooters were dead, and that they had taken a school-teacher’s life in the process of the shoot-up. Two children were seriously wounded, but in good condition (though one had lost an eye), with excellent outlooks.

Luka’s ‘vacation’ was officially starting on Tuesday, even though he already had Monday off.  One last shift today, then two weeks to sit around with nothing to do. Luka hadn’t had a vacation in years, and only took days off when forced to. He knew he’d been suspended, and wondered why Kerry didn’t call it such. He deserved a suspension, whether he’d done the right thing or not.

Of course, today he would have to work alongside Kerry again, besides Benton. He had let her down, and he knew she’d be watching him carefully. It was only fair that she would.

He leaned in the doorframe for a while, watching cars, joggers, a fat tabby cat and two dogs go by. It was a beautiful spring day, still cool-the summer heat hadn’t hit the city just yet-and breezy, the sky cloudless and intensely blue. Maybe that was a sign. Maybe Davor and Dr. Reed were right-that things would get better if he’d stick around. That in fact they were already getting better. He knew he felt... good? Not good, really. But hopeful. He was determined to get through this day somehow, and if he could just maintain a positive outlook, maybe whatever confrontations he had with Peter wouldn’t be quite so bad. Just hold your tongue, Luka told himself.  Hold your temper, mainly. Don’t let him get you upset, no matter what he says.

The story isn’t over yet, he told himself. Hell, it’s just beginning.

Turning around, he saw Kerry standing there, watching him. She was still wearing her bathrobe. “You’re letting bugs in,” she
said.

Luka grinned and closed the door. “Sorry. And good morning to you, too, Kerry.”

She shook her head and crutched away to the kitchen.

“Are you in the mood for breakfast?” she called to him. He had remained standing at the door, hands on his hips, looking at one of her African masks.

“After looking at this thing?” he called back. She shot him a grouchy look as he came into the kitchen and began preparing scrambled eggs and toast.

“Davor said you like scrambled eggs best,” she said.

“I do... generally. So long as they’re not watery.” He got some bread and popped two pieces in the toaster.

Kerry glanced back at him. He looked a lot better now, but she knew that it was not the time to do anything just yet. He still needed some space, and she had to respect that. But it was time to start giving him direct signals. Make it clear now, she thought. Plant the seed in his head and see what he does with it. He might rip it out like a weed, but then again...

“I aim to please,” she said, setting a plate at his end of the table. She knew then to just stand by and wait, because right on cue he went around and pulled her chair out for her. This is the life, she thought, and sat down.

“Today is your last day before your vacation officially starts on Tuesday,” she said matter-of-factly. “What do you intend to do with two weeks?”

He shrugged. “Don’t lie to me, Kerry. It’s a suspension, and I deserve it.” He ate some of his scrambled eggs, then looked
back at her. “Maybe I’ll just sleep...watch TV...”

No, she thought.  I’ve got to talk to Davor about that. Can’t let him veg out in front of a TV. That won’t really help. He needs to be removed from this situation for a while-to rejuvenate, so to speak-but he’s also got to be prepared to come back. He needs a kind of rehabilitation. No more cycles of guilt and grief. Two weeks of peace and quiet really ought to
help. But where?

She glanced at her calendar, which hung on the wall just above and to the right of Luka’s head. She saw ‘conference’ written in big letters across the dates of May 23 through June 7. Yes! The medical conference in Honolulu! She was intending to go, and if this would get her a chance to be alone with him, to convince him that he was going to heal... and to maybe make him notice her.

“There’s going to be a medical conference in Hawaii... starts Tuesday, in fact. Maybe you could go there.” She kept her voice even, trying not to sound eager. It was best, perhaps, to sound neutral right now. Let him make the decision on his own.

“To a medical conference?” he said, raising an eyebrow as he took a bite of his toast. “Sounds...deathly boring.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. You could learn about all the new innovations, listen to very interesting speeches...”

“And feel my brain melt out of my ears...”

Kerry wrinkled her nose at him, and he smiled back. “Well, I'm going,” she said. Be careful here, she thought. That might scare him off entirely. “And Hawaii is beautiful. White sand beaches, swaying palms...”

“A total lack of consonants,” Luka said dryly. “Do you have any idea how hard English is? Don’t you know that pronouncing words made up almost entirely of vowels will be the end of me? Of course... Croatian is almost devoid of vowels, so who am I to talk.”

She laughed. “It’s not that bad. There’s just one word that’s important to any mainland tourist to Hawaii.”

“What’s that?”

“ ‘Haole’. Which, according to P.J. O’Rourke, means ‘person whose luggage is still at Los Angeles Airport’.”

Luka chuckled. “Hey, isn’t Hawaii where they have the women dancing around wearing nothing but strategically-placed coconut shells and grass skirts?”

“Yes...”

“And offer you lays at the airport?”

“Well, actually, it’s spelled ‘L. E. I.’ and it’s a flower necklace... but yes, you got it about right.”

Luka gave her a beautiful, but mischievous, smile. “Then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, what put you in such a good mood this morning, Luka?”

He shrugged. “Friends in high places, I suppose.”

She got up and began collecting the plates, but he stopped her. “Let me.”

“Luka...”

He shook his head and gestured for her to sit down again. She sighed and obeyed him. Tatjana Kovac had been the luckiest woman alive, Kerry thought as she watched him do the dishes. And if I can win his heart, I will be, too.



Peter saw Luka coming, and shifted his weight carefully, bracing himself for anything. He watched the older... or was he younger?... man coming toward him, noting, for the first time, a vague limp. It was obviously no affectation. Luka didn’t know Peter was waiting for him, after all. Peter had never really thought about Dr. Kovac until the day before yesterday. He had heard only vague rumors of dark tragedy in the man’s life-that things had not always gone well. He recalled Luka’s reactions to the Laura Williams incident, and had to admit that in that situation, too, Luka had made a tough call that carried great risk. But now, he knew the whole story - that Luka had lost everything in Croatia. Wife, children... everything. Still, he rather doubted that Kovac wanted pity. He seemed like a humble, self-deprecating man who nonetheless held his ground. Peter had to admit that those were admirable traits.

He was still angry about the triage thing, but he had to admit, his temper had cooled a lot in two days, and he was starting to
understand where Kovac was coming from. Having learned about Luka’s past, he didn’t want to be patronizing-he had tried that before, regarding that man with the ulcerated toe, and it hadn’t worked. Kovac apparently didn’t like being told what to do, and neither did he.

“Dr. Kovac?”

Luka paused for a moment when he saw Peter coming toward him. He was about to start his shift and during the ride to work on the El he had used those breathing exercises Drago had taught him at Vukovar. Breathe in, breathe out, relax, keep your wits about you...

“Yes?”

“What you did the other day...you let your emotions get the better of you.”

“Yes, Peter, I did.”

Benton was startled by Luka’s calm reaction. He had fully expected a sharp answer. Suddenly, Benton remembered the old proverb: ‘A soft answer turneth away wrath’. Being honest with himself, he knew that after two days of thinking about it, considering Elizabeth’s and Carter’s actions in the past year, as well as his own arrogant mistakes, Luka was hardly any more guilty than him of letting emotions - or ego - get in the way.

“I hope you won’t do it again, Dr. Kovac.”

“I hope so, too.”

Peter found himself at a loss for words. He had been anticipating a lot more resistance from Kovac. “I guess you heard that Nicholas Rosato came out of surgery in excellent condition. He’ll have a long recovery, but he’ll be fine.” Peter remembered that he had said almost the same words to Luka months before regarding Laura Williams. Why was this case any different? he thought. Maybe Kerry was right-doctors make tough calls about patients’ lives all the time. Sometimes they’re right, sometimes they’re wrong. Sometimes they’re in between.

“Peter, I’m sorry that your patient died. And I wish I had handled the situation better. But what’s done is done-and I’m glad Nicholas is alive, no matter what. I’ve been suspended for two weeks... and I’ve got some problems to work out as well. Personal problems, but they are being addressed.”

Benton stared at the floor for a moment. This guy had done a great job of taking all the wind out of his sails. In fact, Peter suddenly heard himself saying words he never thought he’d ever say to anyone. “I shouldn’t have stood there arguing with you about it, anyway. We were both at fault. You let your emotions get in the way, and I let... I let my ego get in the way.”

“So I guess we have common ground.” Luka gazed steadily at Peter. “I’m judgmental, you’re an egomaniac.”

Peter looked up at Kovac for a moment, and could have sworn he saw a gleam of humor in Luka’s eye. But he couldn’t refrain from smiling. “Yeah... I guess that’s true. We both have to work on those... qualities, right?”

“I know I have a long way to go,” Luka answered quietly. “And I recall someone... probably a psychologist, saying that any strength taken to an extreme can become a weakness.”

“Yeah...” Peter looked at his feet for a moment. This man had presence, that was for sure. All this time, he had stood there, calm and dignified, completely in control of his emotions, his expression virtually unreadable. “If... if you need any kind of help, Dr. Kovac... I mean, we’ve got to stick together down here in this ER. We’re a family. Even if we don’t always get along.”

“I’ve yet to hear of a family that always got along,” Luka said quietly. “Remember that everyone in Yugoslavia speaks the same language, but we’ve been fighting each other for centuries.”

Peter grimaced slightly. He felt deflated, and ashamed. He had acted like a jerk towards Kovac. “Listen, man... I gotta admit, it was a tough call. I disagreed with it-and I still disagree with it-but... but you were the ranking doctor there. So hopefully we can just...let the problem deal with itself, you know? You said you’re working on it, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Luka’s eyes narrowed a little, but he nodded politely. Peter nodded back, and held his hand out. Luka shook Peter’s hand firmly, and the two men briefly engaged in a small show of strength, both finally calling it a draw. Peter suddenly grinned at Luka. “It’s gonna be a busy day, man. Sundays are always bad.”

“I know. That’s why I’m viewing this suspension as a blessing in disguise.”

“Yeah, we could all use some time off.”

With that, Peter Benton was called away to the OR by a nurse. Luka watched him walk away, then turned toward the admit desk to sign in and start his day.



Luka and Kerry sat at the admit desk, keeping an eye on Drs. Chen and Malucci as they dealt with patients in chairs. Abby Lockhart was on the telephone, calling in a consult from OB. Malik was trying to explain football to Luka, who was only half-listening. Without Carter in the ER to take some of the patient load, things were getting sort of stacked up, but he and Kerry - senior staff today, with Mark off-still had to code charts, cross-referencing for countless conditions. It was maddening, and starting to annoy Luka a little. But strangely enough, it was good to have a mild distraction, in the form of Malik’s explanations of the various field positions in American football - somehow, it helped him concentrate.

“Look at this,” Kerry said in amazement, tapping a chart. “Malucci didn’t fill the chart out correctly... again.”

Luka sighed. He had called Dave to the carpet several times on that issue-Malucci was very sloppy about getting orders filled out right. His handwriting was awful, so that the pharmacy often called back asking about RX’s from ‘Dr. Malici’ and generally his behavior and attitude annoyed not only the other doctors, but many patients as well.

“Dr. Malucci!” Luka called. Dave was chatting Dr. Chen up again. Luka leaned forward, arms crossed on the counter, and watched as the young resident came strolling up, grinning widely.

“Yea...yes, Dr. Kovac?”

“This chart wasn’t filled out correctly, and the handwriting looks like something you’d see on a ransom note. What does this mean?” He pointed to a line of Dave’s impossible-to-read script, and Malucci looked away, obviously embarrassed.

“I...uh...don’t...recall...”

Luka restrained himself from whacking Dave on the head with the chart. He was hardly one to get on his high horse, considering he was going on suspension the day after tomorrow.

“Dr. Malucci, you need to slow down a little...” Luka paused, choosing his words carefully. He had often thought that perhaps Dave suffered from ADD, or a similar condition. The young man was always rushing through things, behaving in a manner that could be described as ‘hyperactive’. But he had the makings of a good doctor if he would just relax and take the time to get things right. “Try to pace yourself. Stop and think about what you’re writing in the charts... and write clearly. I need an Egyptologist to translate what you write most of the time.”

Dave grinned, surprised to hear a bit of humor from Kovac. He had been a little unsure of the older doctor at first, fearing that perhaps he was dour and humorless. But instead, he had found Luka to be surprisingly witty. Besides that, Dave thought
highly of him. He called Kerry ‘Chief’ and had nicknames for nearly everyone on staff, but Dr. Kovac was ‘Dr. Kovac’. Never anything else. The guy commanded respect, with that superior height and that battle-weary look-Dave figured Dr. Kovac would make a great general.

“Okay, Dr. Kovac. I’ll...I’ll try.”

“Good.” He handed the chart back to Malucci, who perused it carefully. Luka went back to the admit desk, grabbed a chart, and headed into exam room two to see a patient with a bad rash.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Kovac. When did this start, Mr.... I’m sorry, how do you pronounce your name?” Luka asked, looking at the large, bright red man sitting on the examining table, looking rather forlorn.

“Dikuler.”

“Yes...” I don’t think I can do that one, he thought. “When did this start?”

“Day ‘fore yesterday. Now, I can’t breathe too good.”

Luka examined the slightly raised, diamond shaped welts on the man’s arms, face and chest. They spread further down, and Luka knew they were all over the man. Urticaria was a condition he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. It was very itchy, but not life-threatening. Luka checked the man’s lymph nodes and noted no abnormalities beyond a slight swelling.

“Any fever, vomiting?”

“Bit of a fever. No vomiting,” Mr. Dikuler responded, scratching his arm. Luka studied the welts and figured this was one for the books. It was certainly the most advanced case of urticaria he’d ever seen. Amazing... just an hour ago he had been giving a GSW victim a heart massage. Now he was trying to figure out how to clear up a rash.

“Are you allergic to anything? Shellfish, eggs, nuts, berries?” Luka asked.

“No.”

“Have you been around any kind of hay or pollen lately?”

“Yeah. I was at Arlington maybe three days ago. Have a friend that works in the backstretch...”

Luka nodded. “Then it’s very likely you had an allergic reaction to the hay there. It’s called urticaria, or nettlerash. Horses get it sometimes, in fact. But we will perform a couple of blood tests to rule anything else out first.”

“Heh,” Mr. Dikuler grunted. “That’s probably what that filly in the third race had. She was a sure thing but she finished dead last.”

After the tests were run, and Luka’s diagnosis was proven correct, he went back in with the news. Dikuler asked what would happen next, looking all the more glum now that he knew what he had.

“I’ll give you a shot of antihistamines, and if the condition isn’t cleared up in a few days, we may have to try steroids. But since you came in so quickly, we’ll hope it’ll clear up with one treatment.”

“Sounds good to me. Guess that means I get a shot in the butt, eh?”

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

“Yeah. That’s the second time I got it in the butt ‘cause of a horse!”

Luka chuckled.

“You gonna be here if it doesn’t clear up, doc?”

“No. I’m going out of town. But if there’s any problem at all, any of the doctors here will be able to help you.” Luka wrote out the order for the injection, and Lydia began searching for the right needle.

“Oh. Vacation, huh?”

“Basically. You could call it that.”

“Takin’ the wife and kiddies, I guess, eh, doc?”

Luka glanced at the man, not answering, then nodded to Lydia, who handed him the needle. “Here we go. We all have to take our shots.”



The whole day had gone fairly well, with a few exceptions. They lost a GSW victim-a teenager who had been in a gun battle with rival gangbangers - and Luka was surprised at Peter Benton’s comment after time of death was pronounced. “That kid wasted his life.”

Later, the two men found themselves in the ambulance bay at the same time, and for a moment, neither said anything. Then Peter looked at Luka and cleared his throat. “I probably would have done the same thing, Dr. Kovac.”

“What’s that?” Luka asked, startled.

“The shooter. If the situation had been different... if I were the one of that helicopter with Nicholas... I probably would have refused to get out.”

“Don’t let me off the hook, Peter,” Luka said slowly. “What I did was...ethically wrong.”

Benton shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a grey area, I guess. We all have these grey areas to work in. We all do things that are a little questionable sometimes... and if we were all kicked out for it, the ER wouldn’t have any docs.” He sighed and leaned heavily against the wall.  “It’s hard to say.”

Luka shrugged.  “Have you ever made a value judgment?” he asked.

“Not that I know of. But I can’t say I never would.” Peter wished he could find some way to express his sympathy for Luka over the man’s loss. He had been thinking about it ever since yesterday morning-how would it affect his life if Reese were to die in violent circumstances? Who was he to judge Dr. Kovac for reacting in a normal, human manner to a terrifying situation? “I don’t know, Luka. I really don’t. I guess I’d have to be there.”

Kerry came out just then. “Luka, we’re getting overloaded here... and Peter, you’re needed upstairs in surgery... they said you’re nearly ten minutes late, and Romano is about to explode.”

“Yeah...” Peter suddenly grinned. “Guess I’m endangering my patient.”

Luka chuckled and followed Kerry back in. She looked back at him, then watched Peter questioningly. Benton said nothing though. He just nodded to Kerry and headed upstairs. “What was that all about?”

“I think we’ve found some common ground,” Luka said quietly. “I doubt we’ll always see eye to eye, but...” He sighed, then turned to look at her. “Have you heard anything about Carter yet?” Meanwhile, he picked up a chart and glanced over at the crowd in chairs. “Mr. Peterson?”

A lanky man got up and came walking toward him, a knife handle protruding from his upper arm. Luka cleared his throat as the man calmly stood before him. “You can... go into exam room two, Mr. Peterson. Are you in much pain?”

“No. Not really,” he said, without even a trace of sarcasm. Then he turned and walked toward the exam room. Luka saw another knife sticking out of the man’s shoulder.

“All right... Lydia, could you...  see to Mr. Peterson? I’ll be in very shortly.”

Lydia’s eyes widened at the sight of the patient, but she nodded and led Peterson into the exam room.

“Mr. Peterson apparently is not a popular man,” Luka told Kerry, turning back to face her. She fought to keep from smiling. “So about Carter...is he okay?”

“Yes. Last I heard, Peter got him to a rehab center in Atlanta and he’s settled in well.”

“What happened, exactly? When did he become addicted to pain killers?”

“I’m not sure. I think he has PTSD, too, Luka.”

“I should think so,” Luka muttered. “He was stabbed...” He looked down for a moment. “He’s going to need a lot of support when he comes back.”

“Yes, he will, Luka. And he’ll have it.”

“Good.”

Kerry smiled at him, glad to hear him say that. It was especially heartening to know that Luka was thinking of the future, although not in terms of his own situation. Even better, he was showing the same concern and compassion he always showed toward others.

Luka went into the exam room and looked at Mr. Peterson. “So... uh... why do you have two knives...?”

“My wife and I got into a fight,” he said dully.

“So she tried to kill you?”

“Yep.”

It was amazing how phlegmatic this man was. Luka took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “You and your wife get... physical during arguments?”

“All the time.”

Luka nodded and glanced at Lydia. “All right. Let’s get these...knives out of you.”

The operation took some delicacy and skill on Luka’s part, but soon he was applying sutures to Mr. Peterson’s wounds. “Sir, I would advise you to... maybe... get out of the house when things get physical. Take a walk around the block, for instance. Count backwards from one hundred-anything to avoid violence... right?”

The man only nodded. “Maybe you should be givin’ that advice to her, Doc. She’s the one that stabbed me.”

“Yes...” Luka gave thought to calling family services down, but Mr. Peterson was the patient, not his wife. “Is she here?”

“No. Wouldn’t come.”

“Oh.” Luka finished the last suture and stepped back, nearly bumping into Lydia, who watched with him as Mr. Peterson stood up, moved his injured arm and shoulder carefully, and began putting his shirt back on.

“Thanks, doc.”

“Sure,” Luka responded quietly. “I hope this doesn’t happen to you again, sir.”

“Yeah. Been thinkin’ about gettin’ rid of every sharp object in the house.”

Luka bit his lip to keep from smiling. “Yes. That might be a good idea.”

Peterson left, and Luka and Lydia stared at each other for a moment, then she just laughed. “Good Lord... we could write a book, couldn’t we?”



The day was almost over. Malucci and Chen stood at the front desk, hanging their heads, nervously listening as Kerry blasted them both for another screw-up that afternoon. They had been caught making out in the suture room instead of treating a heavy backload of patients, and Kerry was furious. The two young residents could only stand still, listening as she bawled them out.

“If I catch either one of you goofing off when you’re supposed to be working, I will have your hides, understand?”

They both nodded in unison. Luka, watching from near the phone booth, shook his head. He approached Kerry after the two residents slunk away. “Kerry, you can only be young once...but you can be immature for a lifetime.”

Dave came back just then to retrieve the charts he had forgotten to pick up. He gave Kerry and Luka a bashful grin and split. Luka glanced back at Kerry. “A visual aid,” he said, nodding toward Malucci.

She kept herself from laughing by leaning on her leg, making it hurt a little. “I noticed you were just standing around, Luka. Why aren’t you seeing patients?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Because I’m coding charts, Kerry,” he answered calmly. “I’ve got three patients-one in exam two, another in curtain area three, and a third in exam four. I’m waiting for blood test results for all three. So in between, I thought maybe I’d stand still for a minute and catch my breath.”

The nurses at the front desk watched this conversation with interest, waiting for Kerry to explode at Luka. But instead, 0she only nodded. “Oh. Okay.” With that, she turned and crutched off toward chairs to gather up a group of children and herd them toward the pedes room.

Luka stood for a moment, wondering about that. Kerry had, only moments before, been yelling at Malucci and Chen for goofing off. He knew he wasn’t necessarily neglecting his duty, but he had just been standing there... why hadn’t she yelled at him as well?

Another question he’d have to ask her, he supposed.

“Dr. Kovac, we’ve got the lab on line three,” Randi called. Luka nodded and picked up the phone.



“Luka, listen to me,” Davor said. They were standing at the terminal at O’Hare. Isabelle was standing at the window, watching the planes taxi away, chatting amiably with an elderly couple from Florida, and the two brothers had moved away to talk.

“All right,” Luka said, bracing himself a little. Davor had a way of being pushy sometimes, but Luka had learned how to cope
with that.

“Don’t give up on the search, okay? You will find the right woman. I know she’s out there... she’s just waiting for you to notice her. Just open your eyes and you’ll see her.”

That seemed like an odd statement, to Luka, but he only nodded in response, indulging his brother a little.

“All right, little brother. You’ll come to the wedding?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Luka answered.

“All right-then you’ll be the best man, too, eh?”

“Definitely. Since I am the best man...”

Davor punched Luka in the shoulder, and the two men embraced, hugging for a long time, every past difference and regret melting away into the very simple fact that they would always just be Davor and Luka Kovac-brothers. Isabelle came over, and Luka gave her a light hug and kissed the back of her hand in typically galant, European fashion. She smiled at him, completely charmed. Then Luka grinned at his brother, suffered having his hair tousled, and left them there. Davor watched until he disappeared from view.

“You know, Davor, if I had known your brother was so good-looking I would have...”

“Don’t even say it!” Davor laughed, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She burst into laughter.

“He’s going to be all right, Davor. Don’t worry about him.”

“It’s my job to worry about Luka. And I wouldn’t want it any other way. Besides that, he’ll have Kerry to take care of him... if she’ll just follow some of my advice.”



Well it started out
Down a dirty road.
Started out
All alone.

And the sun went down
As I crossed the hill.
And the town lit up,
And the world got still.

I'm learnin' to fly,
But I ain't got wings.
Comin' down
Is the hardest thing.

Well the good ol' days
May not return.
And the rocks might melt,
And the sea may burn.

I'm learnin' to fly,
But I ain't got wings.
Comin' down
Is the hardest thing.

Well some say life
Will beat you down,
And break your heart,
Steal your crown.

So it started out
For God-knows-where.
I guess I'll know
When I get there.

I'm learning to fly
Around the clouds.
What goes up
Must come down.

I'm learnin to fly
But I ain't got wings.
Comin' down
Is the hardest thing.

I'm learnin' to fly
Around the clouds.
But what goes up
Must come down.

I'm learnin' to fly.
I'm learnin' to fly.



“How do you pronounce it again?” Luka asked.

“Kapalua...” the bellboy said, holding his hand out expectantly. “Kapah-loo-ah.”

Luka gave him a few bills and the kid left. He looked around the suite for a moment, amazed. He rarely went for luxury, but Davor had urged him to stop saving for so many rainy days and treat himself a little. “It’ll be good for you. Some sunshine, fresh air, pretty girls walking by... just lie on the beach, relax, enjoy yourself.”

Well, he was enjoying himself so far. As much as he was willing to allow, at least. The flight over had been very unpleasant though. He had to change planes twice before leaving San Francisco because the door on the first plane fell off. Luka shook his head amazement at the excuse the captain had given: a bird hit it.

“Well, I don’t want to meet the bird that can knock a door off of an airplane... I thought they were extinct,” he muttered to himself, throwing his suitcase on the bed. He was not a good flight passenger, and had spent most of the trip firmly gripping the armrests, his knuckles white. Every time somebody got up to walk around, or when the beverage cart went by, he was sure it
would cause the plane to tip to one side and they’d all plummet to their deaths in the wide Pacific Ocean. It wasn’t flying that scared Luka - it was crashing and burning that made him want to attach himself to one of the flight attendants and beg for tranquilizers.

Okay, he thought. I survived the flight over, so I need to calm down and not think about the flight back. It’s Tuesday night, I’m in a luxury villa at Kapalua, surrounded by words that I can’t pronounce and pineapples galore. What do I do?

His villa was large-a living room, a dining room, full kitchen, a big bedroom with a giant Jacuzzi that looked like a seashell - all decorated in rather distressingly modern furniture, with French doors opening onto a wide deck. Luka had a  spectacular view of a white sand beach, the water... or at least, that’s what the travel agent had said. It was dark, so for all he knew his view could consist of a McDonald’s. He had asked for an ocean view when making the reservations, finding the idea of watching men in silly clothes plod by, chasing golfballs, to be unappealing. The soothing, familiar sound of the sea was exactly what he needed.

The conference had started tonight, but Luka hadn’t attended the dinner, getting in too late for anything but the open bar, and he didn’t feel like drinking. Maybe tomorrow he’d attend a couple of the talks, then write it off and spend the remaining two weeks touring the islands-he was sure most of the other doctors would be doing the same. He laughed to himself - he had never toured anything in his life. He only found out where things were out of necessity, not curiosity. In Europe, it was palaces, castles, cathedrals, and battlefields, but he was sure Hawaii would be a different experience all together. Reading about the islands, he had gathered that there was always the danger of tripping and falling into a volcano or dying from eating too much poi. That would make things interesting.

He went out onto the deck-lit by tiki torches-and looked out over the ocean. It was dark, and the moon was a huge silver medallion in the sky-so big and so close Luka was sure he could have reached out and touched it. The stars were out in full force, too, the sky clear of even a cloudstreak. Leaning on the rail, he breathed in the comforting scent of salt air and... well, he didn’t recognize the flowers blooming below the deck. Hibiscus, maybe? He wasn’t sure.

“Luka?”

He jumped and looked to his right, and saw Kerry standing on the deck next to his own, holding a martini glass.

“Kerry? What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was coming to the conference,” she said matter-of-factly. “I thought you said you weren’t interested.”

“Well...” He looked down. “I decided I needed to live in the lap of luxury for once in my life.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “That should happen to everyone at least once.”

Luka licked his lips nervously, watching her. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before, but...she had changed her hair lately. It was longer, and her glasses were different. He remembered what he’d thought the first time he saw her: that she was a very pretty woman. Why had he stopped noticing her? Luka shook his head. Could I have just been wasting my time on Carol...?

“So did you go to the dinner tonight?” he asked.

“No. I got in late, ordered room service, and have been sitting out here all evening, drinking a very dry martini.”

Davor had called her the moment Luka made his reservations for Honolulu. She realized that perhaps Luka’s brother was being a little devious, but if that’s what it took... Anyway, Davor had made the reservations for her-booking the villa next to Luka’s. “The rest is up to you, Kerry. Go for it, damn it! Just do it!” She felt like she was in a game of chess, very carefully moving her pieces into the right position. Davor had warned her about Luka-that he was a very cautious man, and after having been burned by Carol, he would be even more wary. “If he smells trouble, or deception, he might bolt. Just play it slow
and careful,” Davor had said. “Let him make the first move.”

Well, she thought. I’m going to go for it. Full speed ahead.

“Have you eaten yet?” she asked him.

“No. Just peanuts and some kind of dish they optimistically called ‘lasagna’ on the flight from San Francisco.”

She smiled. “Maybe you’d like to have dinner with me?  It’s all still hot.”

“What do you have?” he asked.

“Uh...roasted ham, lots of fruits and vegetables, and a very good wine.”

Luka was intrigued. They were thousands of miles from Chicago, alone together in Hawaii. Why not? he asked himself. She’s an attractive woman, and we’re both lonely. “All right,” he said.

Soon, they were seated at her table. Luka asked her what a luau was as he studied the pineapple-covered ham.

“A pig roast,” she answered, cutting several slices of the ham “Very good, too, I have to say. But I don’t think I like poi too much.”

“No, I don’t either. They gave me a sample of it at the airport and I spat it out.”

She smiled, and he continued. “When I was a kid, my grandfather tried to make me eat caviar, squid, octopus... that kind of thing. No... not for me, thanks. I do like seafood, but not that.”

“So... how do you like Hawaii so far?” she asked.

“I like the weather,” he commented. And the company, he thought. He was glad he had found someone he knew in Hawaii. As much as he wanted-or needed-a vacation, it had been nagging at the back of his mind that he would be alone wherever he went. Now, he wasn’t alone. “The food is fairly good. Something about the air... this is the first time in a while that I’ve been hungry.”

“Yeah,” Kerry said quietly. “Me too.” But food isn’t what I’m hungry for, she thought.

They sat at the table a long time after the meal was over, talking amiably. Removed from the situation in Chicago, on neutral ground, Luka was far more relaxed. He didn’t stammer uncomfortably to her questions, he smiled a little more often, talking of childhood pranks and happier memories of a previous life. His manners were still impeccable, but he seemed warmer and more charming than ever. He even drank a little of the wine, but held himself together pretty well.

“I take it you’re not a big drinker, Luka,” she said. She was starting to feel a little tipsy, though. Davor had warned her not to let Luka drink much.

“No, I’m not,” he answered. “I used to get in my cups as a young man, but now... I just get sleepy.”

A good reason not to let him drink, she thought. I need him to be awake and alert. “Any favorite wines, though?”

He thought about it a moment  “Not particularly,” he shrugged. “I had a friend who lived in New York several years ago... he told me about these wine commercials he saw. This woman at a party would look at everyone with this disgusted expression on her face and say, ‘It’s not such-and-such wine!’. Every time I think about that, I can imagine everyone hiding in the kitchen and saying, ‘Let’s spit in her drink!’.”

Kerry giggled. “I know people like that...in fact, I’ve done the old ‘let’s spit in her drink’ bit myself a few times.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re braver than me, then.”

“Yes, but you mooned someone in Zagreb, if I recall.”

Luka grinned. “And remember that I was drunk,” he laughed. “See? Alcohol only impairs our thought processes!”

“Well, maybe it’s not always best to think,” she said. “Maybe sometimes it’s best to...to...”

“Feel?”

Kerry flushed slightly and looked down. “Everyone gets emotional sometimes. We all let our feelings take us to places we... wouldn’t ordinarily go.”

“True,” Luka said. “How else would most people get married... have kids...?”

She nodded, her face getting pinker. Luka thought that was interesting-he hadn’t noticed Kerry blushing before.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to get married?” he asked, drinking down the last of his wine.

“I’ve thought about it a few times,” she answered.

“A lot of times, I can imagine,” he said. “I’ll bet you’ve had more than your share of offers.” He said this with conviction.

Kerry looked down. “No...just one.”

“Who asked you?”

“Mlunglisi,” she answered quietly. “A long time ago, but it didn’t... it just didn’t feel right. I mean, if you’re not sure, then you probably shouldn’t do it, right?”

“What was wrong with him?”

“Nothing. He just wasn’t an Alpha Wolf,” she said softly. “He wasn’t the mate I was looking for.”

“So what are you looking for in a mate?” Luka asked, treading carefully, but very curious. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to know.

“Someone I can... go home to... or have come home to me. Someone I can talk to and be comfortable around. Someone that I can trust... that I can respect and who respects me.” She remembered Valentine’s Day suddenly-telling Carol how it must be nice to have someone to go home to. Her loneliness had caught up with her then.

“So you’re looking for an Alpha Wolf?” Luka smiled.

“I’m the Alpha Bitch of the ER,” she answered, raising her glass in a mock toast.

“A rather unfair term, unless you mean you’re the top-ranking female,” he pointed out. “I would never call you... that.” He
didn’t like using that word at all, whether it was derogatory or not.

“So what do you call yourself? I mean, if you were an animal, what kind of animal would you be?”

Luka thought about it. For some reason, he immediately thought ‘wolf’. “I don’t know. Can it be a bird of prey?”

She laughed. “So maybe you think you’re an eagle, or a hawk?”

“Birds of prey know they’re cool,” Luka answered, smiling at her. “But maybe I’m a wolf, too, Kerry.”

Kerry swallowed nervously, waiting, wondering. Maybe he was starting to make the connection. She had had a long session with Davor before he left for Croatia, and he had filled her in on Luka’s likes and dislikes, pressure points... but did Davor really know his brother that well? It seemed that even though he loved Luka dearly, and that he was older, he was none the wiser. Davor had not experienced the sort of losses Luka had endured, and wisdom was often born of sorrow.

“An Alpha Wolf?” she smiled. “No wonder we recognize each other.”

He licked his lips and looked down at his hands for a moment, not sure what to say. Was she flirting with him? He had never seen Kerry in this light before... or maybe he had, but had chosen to ignore it for some reason, or had blinded himself from it during his doomed pursuit of Carol. She had always been his friend, and had stood by him during all the bad times of the last several months. Could it be that she had feelings for him that went beyond friendship? That would certainly be something, Luka thought. If it’s true, then I wasted plenty of time chasing after something I could never have. Maybe Dr. Reed and Davor had been right-that the right woman had been right around the corner. Or, in this case, right upstairs.

“Yeah. We do,” Luka said quietly. “We do recognize each other. Just that sometimes... it takes a while for a guy to catch a clue.”

Kerry sat up straight for a second, eyes widening a little before she resumed her relaxed posture. She was glad she wasn’t holding her glass, because her hands had started shaking.



To be continued...