A KW/LKo Series, Part 15
A New Life
By Miesque
miesque48@hotmail.com

RATING: PG-13 (mild sexual content)

SONG: "Feels Like A Woman" by Zucchero (You can find the song on the "French Kiss" soundtrack; I’ve never heard of the guy but it’s a great song, IMO)

THANKS TO: Three extraordinary friends for their constant friendship, encouragement, editing and inspiration.

PREVIOUS INSTALLMENTS: Birthday Surprise; A Friend in Need; Once More Unto The Breach; Running Interference; Laughing At Joe's; Taking Note; Waiting On A Friend; The Last Goodbye; Anything You Want, Sir; Never Say Never; Blue Heart to Red; Aesop's Foibles; Rebuilding; Feels Like Home

Kerry woke up and was, for a moment, startled to find herself beside him. Shyly, she glanced up, half hoping he wasn't awake. She was relieved, and yet disappointed, that he was still asleep. It at least gave her a moment to openly admire his beauty. He looked so much younger asleep. Asleep, he looked about twenty. Awake, his age was more obvious. Thirty-five? She wondered if he ever asked himself where his youth had gone. A cruel, callous world had taken everything from him, aging him before his time. She laughed to herself. He'd said she had aged like a fine wine. But age hadn't been so kind to Luka. Certainly, he was still breathtaking to look at, but that grey hair, that haggard look he often had about him...life had been so hard on him. Kerry couldn't even imagine the emotional torment he experienced every day.

She lay there for a long time, her arms still around him, her head still against his chest. She sighed to herself, knowing that this couldn't last the rest of the morning, that the day had to start somehow.

It made for an awkward situation, that was for sure. She was afraid to wake him up, but realized that his shift started at ten that morning. It was seven thirty now.

Still, it was so good to have him here. To feel his arms around her, his light breath on her face as she looked up at him, his heartbeat...it was wonderful for her, like a wish come true. Months ago, she had only been able to dream of waking up in his arms. Of course, she was honest enough with herself to realize that the dream would have had a more satisfying ending if they were upstairs, in her bed...

She really didn't want to wake him. He needed to sleep. More importantly, needed someone to take care of him. If it weren't for herself and Sanja, Kerry doubted anyone would even bother to check in on Luka, to ask him if he was okay.

Was he okay? How would he react to waking up on her couch, in her arms?

It wasn't long before she found out. He woke with a start, apparently from a brief nightmare. He rose up on his elbow and stared at her, wide-eyed, clearly taken aback. For a moment-just for a moment-he looked right into her eyes, then looked away. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. She was afraid to ask.

She blushed, and moved away, climbing carefully off the couch. He helped her, though, holding her arm while she grabbed her crutch. But he let go quickly and got up. Neither of them said anything, both uncomfortable. He looked around the room, still disoriented.  

Kerry retreated into her kitchen, and started trying to find something to make for breakfast. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped a box of Cheerios. She tried to pour the cereal into a bowl, but half of it missed and fell to the floor. Luka came in, watching her nervously for a moment, his words catching in his throat. He couldn't think of anything to say.

Finally, she turned to him. "W-would you like some breakfast?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"No," he shook his head. "I'm on soon. I'd better get home...I need a shower...need to shave."

She nodded, trying but failing to smile. My God, she thought. I've pushed it too far. I've put him in a terribly awkward position. He must hate me now. She had to turn her back to him, to hide her tears and her shame.  

"I'll see you at work, Kerry," he said. He was carrying his shoes. She looked at him for a moment, then looked away, terribly disappointed, heartbroken, shattered...  

She would have loved to prepare breakfast for him, to sit at the table and watch him eat.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'll see you later." 

They say he's a man who needs a woman
I'm not afraid of saying what I feel
I'll never be unfaithful
I've been wronged and left the lonely man. 

Silence is loud without her whispers
My body craves her touch
Such are my prayers every break of dawn
To open my eyes and see her by my side 

When the earth shakes, when the tide breaks
Feels like a woman
So much power takes my breath away
When the sun beats sad and blue
She feels like a woman
I am sweating, begging her to stay
With me 

They say he's a man who needs a woman
In all my world, in my nights
If I don't live up to this promise
Then I am wrong, I have no right 

They say he's a man who needs a woman
I'm not afraid of saying what I feel
I'll never be unfaithful
And I've been alone...
But not tonight.
 

Luka rode the El to his house. He sat in the blessedly empty car, watching the flashing lights go by, shivering a little. He had to admit-he hadn't slept so well in nine years. He had felt soothed, calmed. She had given him comfort when he so badly needed it. It was like waking up from a delicious dream, feeling warm and alive. And he did feel alive with Kerry. But now, he felt...desperate. Needy. Scared. 

Desperate.

There was that word again. He had found himself desperate many times before. His loneliness had almost consumed him, along with his grief. Now, he was getting back into the light and it hurt to be out there, so exposed, vulnerable, where the thawing process hurt the most, making his psychic skin raw from too much sunlight at once. He was so afraid for his heart, but he was more afraid for Kerry. He was afraid she wouldn't be able to handle his past. Hell, he could barely handle it himself. It wasn't like it would go away-it would always be there, threatening to suck him back down into the abyss again.

He had fallen asleep with her, though, and very easily. There had been no tossing and turning, no night terrors, no waking up in a cold sweat. He did recall waking up suddenly, from a nightmare he no longer remembered, and feeling her hands on his face, quieting him, soothing him. Her voice, her touch, the scent of her...Luka closed his eyes for a moment, so that he could remember it more clearly. She had aroused him, brought back all those needs and desires that he had so carefully pushed away and hidden. He wanted her...needed her.

He loved her. 

He opened his eyes to see a couple sitting across from him. A little old man and his wife, both bent and gnarled by life. He was holding the woman's hand, saying nothing to her. But it was on their worn, wrinkled faces. It was clear as a bell, in fact-they still loved each other. They were both probably in their eighties, so that made for about sixty years of marriage.

Unlike his sister, Luka was not a real "people watcher". But he was a good observer of human behavior. He knew love when he saw it. Some people are capable of mating for life, while others seem to think it's okay to commit what Luka's cousin, a priest, had called 'serial marriage'. Luka was sure that if his wife had lived, he would still be married to her, and would be bringing her wildflowers on their sixtieth wedding anniversary. It was part of Luka's nature; he was, in the end, a hopeless romantic.

But his wife was dead. There was nothing he could do about that. Right now, there was Kerry. A total contrast to his wife.

Suddenly, he remembered Kerry's behavior the day Carol had left. How she had been on a rampage, yelling at everyone, bitching everyone out for the slightest mistake, but looking exhausted and overwrought. Yet, Luka couldn't remember Kerry actually yelling at him-except, briefly, after he had been manipulated by Carol into resuscitating that DNR patient. What had set her off? At first, he had been sure that it was because she was working double shifts for Mark. But something came to his mind just then-something he had heard Lydia mutter the following day, when Kerry came in to work looking remarkably cheerful: "The competition is gone."

Was that it? Had Kerry been jealous of Carol? Luka had not given it any thought at the time, but now...he had picked flowers for Carol. He had given Kerry roses. Both were birthday surprises. Yet, suddenly, he realized that Kerry must have seen or heard about him giving Carol those wildflowers in the lounge, and that he had almost kissed Carol. Had that been a catalyst for her emotional state that day? Luka didn't want to think so highly of himself, but...at that point, their relationship hadn't been very far along. Now, he was starting to realize that their relationship was at a point where he couldn't turn back. He didn't want to turn back.

He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the couple across from him, who studied him with equal interest. 

"Is this your stop?" the woman asked him.

Luka glanced out the window, and saw that it was indeed his stop. "Yes." He stood up.

"Thinking about your lady, hmm?" she asked, grinning at him.

Luka turned, startled, and looked at her in amazement. How did she know?  

"Yeah. I was."  

She smiled at him, giving him a knowing wink.

"Frank!"

Kerry was crutching down the hall, shouting at the front desk clerk. Frank cringed and leaned out the window, watching Kerry barrel down the hall toward him, a red-headed ball of angry, frustrated energy. Lydia and Haleh, watching her, shook their heads in dismay.

"Call Animal Control," Haleh muttered. "She's frothing at the mouth."

Kerry, thankfully for Haleh, didn't hear that.  

"Dr. Weaver, we've got lots of patients in chairs..." Frank began. She cut him off.  

"Really, Frank? Who'd've thunk it, considering this is an inner city hospital? Where's Chen and Malucci?"

Lydia whispered, to Haleh, "Probably in the suture room, making out."

"Upstairs in radiology," Frank answered Kerry. 

"Where's Carter?"

"He's off today," Haleh informed her. "Last I heard, he was sailing on the lake with Sanja." 

Kerry swallowed, glancing up at the board. Luka wasn't on for another hour. She wasn't sure if her heart could stand seeing him. What must he think of me? she wondered. 

"Where's Abby?" 

"Here!" Abby said, coming out of Exam Two. She nodded to the nurse-cum-med student and jabbed her thumb at the board. "Abby, take as many patients in chairs as you can handle. I'm going to go find Chen and Malucci. When Dr. Kovac comes in, tell him to please supervise Abby and take the rest of the patients in chairs. Call me if there's any traumas." She stopped, suddenly, realizing that she wasn't the one in charge, officially. But...Luka wasn't due in 'til ten.  

"Yes, ma'am," Frank said. She whirled around and glared at him.

"I mean...yes...sir?"

That didn't help. For a moment, she looked like she might belabor him with her crutch. But instead, she turned and limped away.  

"God Almighty," Frank said, looking at Haleh. "I've faced gun-toting murderers who were nicer than her." 

"Eh, she ain't so bad. She's just in love, that's all." 

"In love? That can fall in love?"

Lydia surprised everyone by snapping angrily at Frank. "Yes, that can fall in love! What, do you think she's a robot or something?"

"With who?"

Haleh and Lydia looked at each other, then at Frank. "With Luka, of course."

"The foreign guy?" 

That statement was greeted by angry glares from everyone, so Frank retreated back to his position behind the desk, answering phones.

Luka arrived on time, clean-shaven, a little more bright-eyed than usual, but dressed in his usual dark tones. Haleh greeted him at the front desk, but he noticed that everyone was watching him carefully. Of course, he didn't recognize Haleh and Lydia's admiring looks. 

"Smooth as a baby's bottom," Haleh whispered to Lydia, who rolled her eyes.

"Mmmmmm...."

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Nope," Frank said, but Luka had a feeling that every eye in the ER was on him. He wondered if maybe he had a growth that he hadn't noticed before.

"Morning, Luka," Mark said, shuffling up beside him and signing in. Luka glanced down at Mark's feet, noticing those ridiculous gardening clogs. Good Lord, the man had no fashion sense whatsoever. Give him buck teeth and pocket protector and he could be working on emulsifying chemicals in a lab somewhere. 

"Morning," Luka answered, shaking his head a little. He tossed the pen away and checked the board. 

"Where is Kerry?"

"Downstairs, hacking Chen and Malucci to pieces," Haleh smiled as she rushed by.

"No wonder everything here is falling apart," he said, and headed toward chairs.

Everybody was keeping out of Kerry's path, that was for sure. She was on a full-out rampage. No one could figure out why, though. She had been in a good mood until recently, but now...she was the Tiny Terror, as Dave called her.  

She was so angry with herself, so scared. He had walked away from her, after all, and she didn't blame him. Why would he stay with her? Why would he want a short, red-headed, pale-skinned, bitchy, foul-tempered, gimp-legged woman when he could have any beautiful woman he wanted? She had seen how the nurses all slavered over him, and how female patients reacted to him. It was a wonder County's ER floors weren't covered with melted women, all victims of Luka's beauty. It would look like the beaches of Normandy, with all the bodies lying around, moaning.

Going in to the ladies room, she peered briefly in the mirror, and shivered. She looked horrible. Of course. She always looked horrible. She didn't believe Luka at all when he'd said he thought she was beautiful. She didn't believe his kiss, his touch. She was sure she could never believe it.

Standing at the sink, looking in the mirror, she remembered working with him on Dean Rollins' rape victim. Luka...his quiet, gentle confidence. His beautiful, beautiful hands. She closed her eyes, remembering-cherishing-the memory of his hands on her body last night. He had a way of touching her that made her feel beautiful then, but now...no, he hadn't meant it. She was sure of that. How could he mean it? How could he ever say Kerry Weaver was beautiful and mean it? 

She remembered how caring he had been toward that poor man whose wife had been murdered. That must have been horrible for Luka, as his own wife had been viciously cut down as well. And then, at the end of the day, he had been so sweet about accepting the position as an attending in the ER. She would never forget that smile he had given her, that very slight chuckle and that amusement on his face. He had forgiven her instantly for having fired him, and never mentioned it again. 

She had fallen in love with him that day. Ever since then, she had been struggling, however subtly, to attract his attention, only to see him talking to Carol. Of course. Carol had been beautiful and kind. Carol was also a cold, manipulative bitch who had used Luka's tragic past as a means of getting him to revive a DNR. Kerry hadn't been able to cut into Luka about that, because she had interfered with his patients before, with unhappy results. She had, after all, caused him to relive a painful, horrifying memory from his past.

Another reason for him not to love me, she thought. I've wounded him enough already. He doesn't need me to wound him some more.

It was an almost symbolic motion for Kerry. She washed her makeup off, brushed her hair back, wishing it was long enough to tie into a short, hard bun (there, that'd be spinsterish enough), and looked in the mirror again. That was the natural Kerry Weaver. Unattractive. Getting older. Bitchy. Cold. Hard. She could keep the world and the pain out. She could keep everyone away.  

There was a bottle of soap on the sink, and on the label it read 'Spring Wildflowers'. She snorted with disgust. 

Wildflowers. 

Carol had gotten wildflowers from Luka. It wasn't that Kerry didn't appreciate the roses he had sent her. They had been beautiful, and the gesture had been extremely kind of him-but kindness was as natural as breathing for Luka. The rosemary and the rue-she still kept sprigs of them in her pockets. Her 'affair' with Luka was over, she was sure. So she needed the rosemary to help conjure up the memory of his touch, his kiss, his warmth. The rue, for the grace to keep working with him every day, loving him and knowing he'd never love her back.

Just then, Elizabeth Corday came out of one the stalls and started washing her hands in the sink beside Kerry. She glanced at Kerry, curious.

"Are you all right, Kerry?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Kerry answered. And here's yet another beautiful woman, to remind me of the fact that I can't compete, she thought.

"Are you sure? You don't look well at all."

Kerry almost burst into tears then. But she held herself together. "I'm fine, Elizabeth. Do you have many surgeries scheduled for today?" she asked casually. Damn, I deserve an Oscar for this performance, she told herself.  

"Yes. Lots, I'm afraid," Elizabeth said, smiling ruefully. 

Kerry smiled stiffly, crutched out of the ladies' room, managed to get into the elevator-which was thankfully empty-and only when the doors closed did she break down and cry. She had lost.

Hell, she thought. I was never even in the running.

Luka wondered why he hadn't seen Kerry yet today. He wanted to talk to her, but according to Frank she was busy all day and not only that, 'somewhat difficult'. Well, that was Kerry. She was difficult. But that was one of things Luka liked about her. It made her pretty damned interesting, that was for sure. He was never bored with her. She was as unpredictable as the stock market.

Xandro and Doris came in with a small child wrapped up in a blanket. Luka stared at the boy, startled, and took the bullet.

"Three-year old boy, found wandering around beside the El tracks. Apparently abandoned. Has a few cuts and bruises, but seems to be okay. BP's normal, no fever..." Doris looked sadly at the little boy, then at Luka.

Luka looked down at him. "Hello, my name is Luka. What is your name?"

The boy said nothing. Just looked away. Luka glanced up and saw Malucci trotting toward him. "Malucci, there are plenty of cases in chairs to be seen. Have Frank page Weaver." 

"Yeppers," Malucci said, shrugging. This case didn't look exciting anyway.

Kerry wasn't happy to be called into the Pede's ER. Cleo was off today, so she knew almost instinctively that Luka would be taking pedes cases, too.  

Sure enough, Luka was sitting beside the gurney, talking quietly to a little boy of about three years. A waifish kid, that was for sure. Red hair. Green eyes. Freckles. Pale, but dirty and unhealthy looking. It was like looking in a mirror of Kerry's childhood.

Luka's back was to her, though. For a moment, she struggled to maintain her professional, emotionally detached persona. But then Luka turned to look at her, and her knees went weak.

She had to ask herself the same question: why did he have to be so beautiful? It wasn't fair. He was clean-shaven, well-dressed (as always...she doubted she'd ever see him in torn jeans and a T-shirt), coolly elegant in a black shirt and slacks. It was almost too much for her then. If only he was a cold, mean, heartless jerk she could have the luxury of just hating him. But instead, she was hopelessly in love with him and she was sure he felt nothing for her. And why the hell should he? She had put him in a compromising position, had made him uncomfortable. And he had looked uneasy this morning. Why not? It must have been a horror for Luka to wake up with me, she thought.  

"Looks like he was abandoned," Luka said. "I can't get him to speak...maybe he doesn't speak English?" He looked at Kerry, brow furrowing at her appearance. She looked so pale, and so...strange. Her eyes were puffy from...crying? And she wasn't wearing any makeup, either. What had happened to her? 

Kerry tried to shrug, looking casual. "Do you mind if I try?" She couldn't believe she was able to be so casual and calm while her emotions were in a tailspin.

He nodded and looked at the boy. "This is Dr. Weaver," he grinned. Kerry flushed again, then looked at the boy. "She's a pretty lady, isn't she?" he whispered.  

The little boy looked up at Kerry, then at Luka, and nodded. The combinations of pale and red, black and olive, must have been fascinating for the child.

"What is your name?" she asked the boy softly, blushing at Luka's comment. He looked at her, wide-eyed.

"Ben." 

"Do you know your last name?" 

"So he does speak! You had me fooled there!" Luka said, smiling at the boy, who smiled back, eyes brightening.

The boy looked at Kerry for a moment, and she gently repeated her question. He shook his head. "No? You don't know?"

The boy shook his head again. Just like me, she thought sadly. I didn't have a name, either.

Luka examined the boy's nose, throat and ears. He tousled Ben's hair, then stood up. Ben watched him, wide-eyed, apparently having never seen anyone so tall before. Kerry smiled a little. Luka's size could be frightening to small children, yet his gentleness and warmth always won over their initial fearfulness. She had never yet seen a child who didn't fall head over heels for Luka. It was, she knew, the daddy in him. He would always be a daddy, would always connect easily with children.  

"We're going to check you for bruises, okay Ben?" Luka said calmly. "Is that all right?" 

The boy nodded, and Luka removed the filthy blanket that still hung around Ben's shoulders. The boy was almost naked, except for a pair of shorts. He had bruises on his back, on the backs of his legs. Luka and Kerry looked at each other. "Did the people in the ambulance look at you, Ben?" Luka asked, keeping his voice remarkably steady and even cheerful. 

The boy shook his head. "Wouldn't let 'em."

Luka nodded. Conni came in with a chart, and Luka gave her quick orders for tests and X-rays. Then he began, in his usual straight-forward, direct way, to explain everything that would be happening to the little boy. Ben listened attentively, still fascinated by Luka's size. "The shots might hurt, though, but you'll be a big man and you won't cry, right?" 

Ben shook his head firmly. "Good. But you know, when I was your age and got my shots, I cried," Luka said. "But then again, I tend to be kind of emotional." He winked at Kerry. "My threshold of pain is slightly lower than the Cowardly Lion in 'The Wizard of Oz'." 

The boy apparently didn't believe Luka could ever have been his age, or as small. Conni grinned down at Ben. "Dr. Kovac is the biggest doctor in the ER, Ben. Can you guess how tall he is?"

Ben shook his head, still staring up at Luka. Kerry almost broke down then. She recalled being in that orphanage in Kenya, staring up at couples who looked right past her, not wanting a pale, red-headed, crippled girl.  

All her emotions came crashing down on her then. She still felt like that little girl of almost forty years ago. Alone, rejected, unwanted and unloved. A foundling that had been refused and cast out. For a moment, she had to avert her face to regain her composure and put on the right expression. Just be the usual Kerry Weaver, she told herself. Don't let anyone know you're upset. 

Luka glanced at Kerry, curious about her expression. She looked stricken, overwrought, and exhausted, and that made him very concerned for her.

Conni was still chatting amiably with Ben, who was now responding eagerly to questions and starting to chatter, like most three-year olds. To Luka, that was a good sign. Luka called DCFS-reluctantly-and then headed down the hall toward the lounge, needing some coffee and time to review the chart for a minute; the boy was in fine condition, besides the bruises, so he could leave him with Conni, who grinned at him as he left, assuring him that all was well.  

Kerry crutched beside him, keeping her eyes on the floor, saying nothing. Lydia and Haleh, at the front desk, saw them and watched the sparks fly.

"Thank you, Kerry," he said. "I doubt he would have spoken a word if you hadn't come in. Birds of a feather, you know." 

"What do you mean by that?!" she snapped, suddenly jerked back into reality.

"Well, I mean...he's a redhead, and so are you." 

"No, I think you meant something else by that. Who told you?" 

"Who told me what?" Luka asked, startled.  

She looked up at him, eyes blazing and tearing up. But it only made her hurt worse when she saw amusement in his eyes. "Kerry, you're over-reacting here. I just meant that he saw you were a redhead, too. That's all."

She bit her lip and stared down the hall, seeing Mark Greene heading toward her. Great. Like I need an encounter with him, she thought. She looked at Luka again, and he gave her a bemused smile.

"I should have let you give me breakfast," he said, lowering his voice so that no one else would hear.  

That only upset her more. She had spilled most of breakfast on the damned floor. "I...I have to go," she said.  

Luka, however, did a quick step around and was in front of her, hands in his pockets, staring down at her, before she could move. She tried to dodge him. Mark, passing by, looked at them curiously but kept going. The nurses, however, were watching, listening with eagle ears to every word they were saying. Unfortunately, they couldn't hear everything.

"Kerry, we need to talk. I'm your supervisor, and I can see you're not doing very well here...in fact, you seem...frantic." 

"I'm doing just fine," she said.

"No, you're not."

Haleh and Lydia moved a little further down, toward the end of the front desk, where they could hear better.

"Haleh," Luka said, turning slightly. "Can you and Lydia please find something else to do?"

The two nurses stared at Luka, their expressions almost pleading, but they nodded and walked away.  

"You are out of control, Kerry," Luka said, somewhat sharply, turning back to her. "Just like the day Carol left." 

She looked like he'd punched her, recoiling from him, tears in her eyes. She looked away, trembling. But Luka didn't relent. He took her arm and more or less dragged her into the lounge.  

Dave and Chen were sitting at the table, talking. "Out, out, out!" Luka said, jabbing his thumb toward the other door. 

The two young residents didn't take time to argue. They got up and in their rush to escape, they both got jammed in the door. Finally, they popped out and the door shut gently behind them. 

Luka turned back to Kerry. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all."

"You're behaving awfully strange, Kerry. Or don't you remember that I fell asleep in your arms last night? Why have you been avoiding me all day?" 

She blushed and averted her eyes, unable to look at him.

"Or do you think that last night was just a mistake?" he asked her.

"You're the one that left this morning," she whispered.

"Kerry, I had to get ready for work. It was awkward. I have to admit that. But I still liked waking up with you. It just scared me for a minute. It's been nine years..." 

"I have to go," she said, trying to get past him, not believing him. But he wouldn't budge. She was trapped, her heart pounding. 

"You were abandoned as a child, weren't you?" he asked. 

"How dare you ask me that!" she said. 

"Why else would you over-react to a statement like 'birds of a feather', Kerry? What happened, then? Were you abandoned?" 

Her tears started flowing then, unchecked. He reached out to touch her, but she jerked away. "Yes. My parents...my biological parents...abandoned me. Dropped me off at an orphanage in Africa. I never knew why...I mean, I know why. I was an ugly little red-headed girl with a bum leg." 

Luka could barely take that in. Ugly? "Kerry..."

"And then no one wanted me. The only people who were willing to take me in was this couple with several other foster kids with 'special needs'. I never believed they loved me. Not one bit."

This glimpse into Kerry's psychology was startling for Luka. She still felt abandoned, unloved, unlovable, unattractive, unworthy. She had such low self-esteem in her personal life, and yet so much drive and determination to succeed in her professional life. He wondered where that came from. Maybe it was a way for her to control as much of her life as possible, while still being lonely when she went home each night. And it amazed him to think that she believed she deserved that. That she didn't seem to believe she was worthy of being loved. And her statement about 'no one wanted me'. That hit close to home. Luka realized that she still felt that way-that no one would ever want her. That no one had ever loved her. Boy, she would take some convincing otherwise, he guessed.

"So you think no one has ever loved you, Kerry?" he asked her.

She shook her head.

Just then, Mark came in, startling both of them. Luka turned around and became as menacing as a man could be, moving across the room in one step and looking Greene right in the eye. "Mark, please leave us. Now."

Greene wasn't stupid. He nodded, backed out of the room, and fled.

"That you're not worthy of being loved?" He continued as if the conversation had never been interrupted.

Kerry burst into tears then, sobbing uncontrollably. But Luka didn't touch her, knowing she would only pull away from him. He watched as she struggled to regain her composure. "I have to go home..." she gasped. "My shift is over. I can't talk about this any more."

"Why?"

She shook her head. "I have to go. I...just, please. It doesn't matter any more, Luka. It doesn't matter." 

"Yes, it does. There's no excuse for someone to abandon their child. I don't understand that. You must have been a beautiful little girl." 

"I wasn't. I was ugly...crippled..." 

He shook his head. "No, Kerry. Stop saying that about yourself." 

She pushed him aside, though, and crutched out as fast as she could. Haleh and Lydia looked up, startled to see Kerry so distraught. But no one spoke to her as she rushed out through the ambulance bay doors.

A few moments later, Luka emerged from the lounge, to be encountered by two GSWs coming in. He wanted to follow Kerry, but he was stuck here. Sighing, he nodded to the EMTs and headed toward the trauma room. But his heart wasn't in it. Kerry was out there somewhere, alone and in pain, and he couldn't help her. 

Kerry's hands were still shaking. She couldn't stop shaking. She tried to pour herself a stiff drink, but most of the alcohol missed the glass. She finally managed to get a little into the tumbler and drank the burning liquid down as fast as she could.  

She took off her glasses. She always felt naked without them, but right now, she felt really naked. Exposed to the elements. Like unwanted babies of ancient Rome, left out, abandoned. She had no doubt that would have happened to her. When Kerry contracted polio at just two years of age, her parents, whoever they were, didn't want to be saddled with the task of caring for an ugly little carrot-top girl who would probably die anyway from the disease.

But she had lived. For whatever reason, she had lived. She had grown up without kindness from anyone. So she had learned how to fight, and, if necessary, fight dirty. She learned how to be a snarling, hard-headed, determined bitch. Nobody liked Kerry Weaver. But they learned to respect her, and, if necessary, fear her. She fought her way to the top of the pack, becoming what she rightly called the Alpha Bitch Attending. It had taken all her strength and fortitude and determination to get there. It had meant stabbing Mark Greene in the back, and it had meant losing a friendship or two along the way, but she had gotten to the top. 

Along the way had been ruined relationships. She had had a few lovers-Munglisi, Ellis West, and a couple of guys in college. But there had never been love or commitment involved. Munglisi had gone back to Africa after a while, to put her farm up for sale, then he had married somebody else. Ellis had betrayed her. The boyfriends in college had proven themselves unwilling-or unable-to cope with Kerry.  

She doubted anyone could cope with Kerry Weaver.  

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the memory of Luka. The first time she had met him, she had been blindsided. Nothing had prepared her for him, for his beauty, for his quiet, steady confidence or his gentle humor. She remembered how he had walked into the ER, clean-shaven, just as well-dressed but with a rough-around-the-edges look about him, as if life had been fairly cruel to him as well, but that he was pretty well able to keep that to himself. She had asked him a few perfunctory questions, having already read his impressive resume. Degrees from University of Zagreb Medical School, as well as a year as an exchange student at the Sorbonne in Paris. Highly qualified as an emergency physician. There had been little or no personal information, as that was all confidential anyway. Just his place of birth, age...marital status. Kerry hadn't really noticed 'widower'. He hadn't looked old enough to be a widower, so when she looked at his age, she was surprised to read '35'.

Of course, at the time, Kerry had been able to keep herself distracted around Luka. She found it best to just ignore him at first. He came in when needed, did a good job, and left. He remained anonymous, quiet, reserved. Even rather shy. She had heard, through the rumor mill, about his impersonating a priest to a dying woman, and usually Kerry would have reprimanded anyone else for that, but Kerry hadn't been able to bring herself to do it. She just couldn't. Talking somewhat casually with Carter about Luka, she found that John liked Kovac. "He's a pretty nice guy, actually. You'd want him around in a crisis. He doesn't take a lot of crap."

No, he certainly didn't, she told herself. He doesn't even take it from me. Yet never once has he raised his voice to me, never once has he overstepped the boundaries when it came to a disagreement. He's never held anything against me, even when I've done or said something utterly stupid or thoughtless to him. 

Just then, her thoughts were interrupted by someone knocking on her door. Sighing wearily, feeling sapped of all her energy, she staggered to her feet and crutched to the door, opening it slowly, warily.

Luka was standing there, hands in his pockets, staring at her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, unable to keep her voice from cracking. "I told you...it doesn't matter any more."

He still said nothing-instead, he sighed and looked away for a moment, shaking his head.

"Just go, Luka. Go home." 

He returned his gaze to her, still saying nothing.

"It's pointless," she tried again. "I..." Her voice trailed off, and she turned away, unable to look up at him.

"Kerry, look at me."

She shook her head.

"I'm not going anywhere, Kerry." 

She lost her nerve, though. All she could think to do was to just flee from him. She started to back away and shut the door, but he stepped forward and caught her arm, pulling her back, but very gently. Before she could do anything about it, he was lifting her chin, kissing her, brushing his mouth gently across hers, and she simply melted again. Her tears came again, but he didn't relent. He pulled her closer, his hands sliding down her arms to her hands. That one simple, sensual gesture made her heart start pounding so hard she couldn't hear anything. All she was aware of was him.  

She found herself back on her couch, and wondered how she got there. He was sitting there beside her, moving over her a little, turning on a lamp so he could see her a little better.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" he asked her, looking directly into her eyes.

"I'm not...I'm not..."

"Yes, you are. I guess I'm going to have to find some way to convince you of that."

She shook her head emphatically, still not believing him. "All those other women out there that you could..."

"Dogs," Luka said, giving her a charming smile. "Compared to you, they're nothing."

"I don't believe you," she whispered. "I saw that picture of your wife...she was a beautiful woman..." 

"Yes, she was. But that wasn't why I loved her. That was just...how do you say? Icing on the cake? If her heart hadn't been beautiful, I wouldn't have been attracted to her at all. She would have been as ugly as sin to me. Do you think I kissed you just because I think you're beautiful on the outside?"

She blushed and couldn't meet his direct gaze. 

"There's so much about you that I like. That I love, in fact. I love your nasty temper, and I love how you look when you're angry. I love your red hair and your creamy skin and your voice..."

"No..." 

He kissed her again, to silence her. Kerry knew there was no point in trying to resist him. She could only give herself over to the sensations going through her-that jolt of electricity that shot through her like the one she had felt last night. Shyly, awkwardly, she touched his face again, but pulled away, still feeling scared. Her whole body was tingling, craving his touch, but still so afraid.  

"I love your stubbornness. I love your somewhat obsessive ideas about hospital organization and policy. I love that you're a neat freak. I love how kind you are to children, and how tough you are on the doctors in the ER. I love the fact that you can be a total bitch sometimes and yet still be so caring. I love that you never fail to surprise me. I love your skin, and your hands, and your mouth..."

Her hands had moved, still unsure, still trembling, to his shoulders. Her tears wouldn't stop, though. He had to be crazy to love those things about her. They were the things she hated most about herself. It had taken years for her to learn how to be a bitch, but that didn't mean she liked it. At the end of each day, she still hated herself. She hated her bad leg, hated her red hair, her pale skin... 

It was as though he was reading her mind. "I love your bad leg, Kerry. I love your pale skin and your hair. You have beautiful hair. I even love how you yell at people, and how you can scare the hell out of residents and med students without giving it a second thought." 

For the first time, she was able to meet his gaze. "I hate myself, Luka," she whispered. "I hate how I am." 

He sighed and sat up, pulling her gently to him, taking her into his arms as if she were a child. In many ways, she was a child. Lost, scared, and alone: a lonely, frightened little girl who needed someone to protect her. She had never had a father, she had never had that sense of real security. She had built a wall around herself, and fortified it with lots of battlements-her anger, her resentment, her temper, but that wall was always in danger of falling. Luka knew from experience that it was exhausting to maintain those kinds of defenses. Absolute diligence was necessary, but it was impossible in the end. She had torn down his walls with such ease. Now, he had to break hers down as well.

He glanced at her crutch: even that was a means of defending herself from people, keeping them at a distance.

"Do you remember when we first met, Kerry?" he asked her.

She blushed, nodding against his chest.

"Even then...I sensed that you were just as alone as me. That you went home to an empty room, too. At the time, I didn't think I'd ever find a home again, that I'd ever have someone in my life again."

She was ruining his shirt, crying like this. She tried to pull away, to wipe her eyes, but he wouldn't have that. He gently pressed her cheek back against his chest, stroking her hair. Finally, she closed her eyes, a feeling of warmth washing over her. He had probably done this, she thought, with his children, comforting them when they scraped their knees, soothing away their tears by telling them a story, distracting them from their misery, getting them interested in something else. Kerry had never experienced that with her foster 'father'. In fact, thinking about it now, she realized that this was probably the first time she'd ever been held like this: cradled in warm, loving arms.

"And that day you hired me permanently...remember that?"

Kerry nodded.  

"It was a difficult case...Mrs. Perry. I'll never forget how kind you were to that man, Kerry. It was an uncomfortable and horrible situation, and you handled it so well..."

"You did," she broke in. "You're the one that had to do the examination, and you're the one who had to tell Mr. Perry..." 

"And you hired me that day," he said. "I never really thanked you for that, did I? I was getting pretty sick of living on a boat. In fact, at that time in my life, I was pretty sick of living. I was so lonely then. And I stayed lonely even after that, until after Valentine's Day, when I gave you those flowers. I stopped feeling so lonely after that. I don't have to wait on a friend any more, Kerry." 

His voice was so soft that Kerry's pounding heart was almost back to normal, her breathing was steadying, and she felt calm now. She had even stopped shaking. She could hear his heartbeat now, still so steady. Everything about him was steady-he was the kind of man, she realized, that she could ride the roughest waters with.  

That only made her heart hurt more. She wasn't convinced yet. Of course, she was convinced of one thing: she loved this man so much it made her ache.

He gently pulled her back, tipping her head back. "Look at me, Kerry." 

She couldn't, for a moment, look into his eyes. But he gave her a little shake, as if he were trying to get her into reality. "Look at me."

Finally, she mustered all her courage and looked up at him, shivering.  

"I was told, not long ago, that I would find somebody again. Somebody who would love me like my wife loved me."

Kerry started to shake her head, still in denial, still afraid. But he touched her cheek, not relenting. She looked at him again.

"Repeat after me," he said firmly. "I, Kerry Weaver, am a beautiful, sexy woman."

"I'm not."

He shook her again. "Don't argue with me, Kerry. Not about this. You'll lose every time. Now say it...'til you believe it." 

She was shaking, but she tried. "I...Kerry Weaver...am a...beautiful, sexy woman." 

"There," he nodded, pleased with her. "And it's true. Don't you know how beautiful you are, how special you are?" 

"They abandoned me, Luka. They didn't want me." 

"I want you," he said.

"No...no, you can't. You...nobody can handle someone like me. I'm the Alpha Bitch of the ER...I..." 

"Then I'll be your Alpha Wolf." 

She blushed, remembering her fantasies about him from that day he had first kissed her. She had dreamed of him being the one with the power, and her the lover, supporting him, spending her nights in his arms. Sanja's words repeated in her memory: "Kovac men mate for life, like wolves."

"We really need to work on your self-esteem, Kerry," he said gently. "You have far too low an opinion of yourself, and that has to stop. I won't have it. I guess I'm going to have to tell you every ten minutes or so that you're beautiful and desirable and..."

"Then you'd be describing yourself," she whispered. "I've never seen a more beautiful man." 

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but thanks anyway," he grinned at her. "But we're talking about you, not me. Are you starting to believe me yet?"

She shivered, rills of excitement and nervousness going up and down her spine.

"I'll never be as beautiful as those women out there...those women that see you and just melt. How can I compete against them?" 

"Like I said before, Kerry, I don't notice them. They aren't even in the race." 

"You noticed Carol."

He glared at her for a moment. "And look what happened there. She used me, manipulated me...knowing what she knew about me, she used that to get her own way. I've forgiven her for that, but it was inexcusable, and it showed a cold side to her that was very unattractive. I've never seen you be cold toward anyone, Kerry. You've never manipulated me."

"I can be. I've hurt you. I backed you into a corner, made you lash out..." 

"That's the past, Kerry. It's water under the bridge. I don't hold that against you."

"You should. You've been damaged enough."

"So have you."

She looked up at him, frightened and hopeful at once, her heart pounding, suddenly wishing he'd kiss her. She was staring at his mouth, in fact.

"I will never let anyone hurt you again, Kerry. Never."

"You can't promise that..." she whispered. But she was starting to believe him. He had never lied to her before; she doubted he'd start now. 

He put his fingertip to her lips. "Shhh...you talk too much."

Gently, he kissed her again, drawing her in, until she forgot to breathe. She received him eagerly, sighing against him, spreading her hands across his chest, then up over his shoulders to his back. Her touch was tentative, nervous, even awkward at first, but it wasn't long before she was bolder. Her desire for him overwhelmed her, and she happily submitted to him as he pushed her onto her back and moved over her, kissing her deeply, making her moan with pleasure.

For the first time in her life, Kerry found herself totally relaxed. She could see real desire in his eyes, and she felt it in his touch. She closed her eyes, letting every sensation overtake her. For the first time in her life, she felt wanted, needed...loved.

For a moment, he paused, looking into her eyes, gently brushing her hair back. "Are you convinced yet?" he asked. 

She couldn't speak. But looking up at him, seeing his eyes, knowing he thought she was beautiful...God, for the first time, she did believe it. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

It was like a tidal wave crashing over her. Every touch, every caress, made her believe it more and more. She realized that he wasn't going to stop, and she didn't want him to. He was what she wanted, what she needed more than anything in the world. For once in Kerry Weaver's lonely, unhappy life, she had found perfect happiness. There was no way in hell she was going to push it away. She was going to hang on to it, fight for it, believe in it with everything she had. Finally, she was able to give herself completely, without reserve or shame, to a man she truly loved.  

She woke up tangled in the sheets, and for a moment, she buried her head into her pillow, sighing happily. Then she realized she was alone. Gasping, she sat up and looked around the room. "Luka?!" she called, frightened. 

"Hey." He came through the bedroom door, carrying a tray. "It took me a while to find something for breakfast."

He was wearing only his black jeans, and she found herself blushing at the sight of him. For what reason, she didn't know. Luka had spent much of the night working on her reserves, her shyness, her insecurities about her body. Maybe it was seeing such absolute perfection in him...oh well, there was the scar in the middle of his belly. He had told her that it was from a surgery a few years ago. And there were other scars...scars he didn't really want to discuss at the moment. But she had traced each one with her fingertips. She glanced up at him, blushing pink. She knew every inch of him now. And he knew every pore of her skin, along with her heart.

"Cheerios?" she said, pretending to be annoyed with him. "Are you teasing me, Dr. Kovac?" 

"One other thing," he said, leaning in and kissing her forehead, "that I need to teach you is how to pronounce my name. It's 'ko-vach'. Emphasis on the first syllable, a bit of 'w' sound to the 'v' and a very short 'ach' sound." 

She nodded prettily, stretched up to catch him for another kiss, and blushed when the sheet fell inadvertently fell down from across her chest, exposing her breasts. He grinned at her. "Very nice." 

Playfully, she slapped his hand away, but he would have none of that. He set the tray aside and moved beside her, taking her into his arms, pulling the sheet off her. She was still blushing when he kissed her. "I need to take you to Brac, to one of the nude beaches," he said, touching her in just the right spot, making her breath come short and her eyes widen a little. 

"Wh-why?"

"So I can get jealous when those guys stare at you...God, they'll envy me, won't they? I'll be there with the prettiest woman, after all. But they can envy away. I wouldn't let 'em touch you."

She opened her eyes, her breath coming a little faster, her need growing stronger. "I'll never let anyone else touch me," she promised, becoming lost in a haze. "And I swear to God, if any other woman touches you, I'll claw her eyes out."

"I know," he grinned. "Now shut up and kiss me."

She woke up later, still exposed but now, unashamed. She belonged to him now, and it was perfect for her. She had never felt so happy, so contented or so satisfied. Watching him sleep, she smiled to herself. Just like yesterday, it was so good to see him so peaceful, so completely relaxed.  

Of course, no matter how much he satisfied her, she would still want more. She wanted him again, now. But for now, she was content to watch him sleep. They had kept each other up all night, discovering one another. He had helped her discover herself, though-much more. He had freed all her needs, all her desires, all her fantasies. She was less and less reserved about her body...about her leg. She was learning to be aggressive and bold, to have confidence in herself.

He reached for her in his sleep, and she heard him murmur her name. She smiled, brushing that errant lock of black hair from his eyes. He woke then, stared up at her, and smiled. "Hey."

"Hi," she whispered, still a little shy.

"Come here," he said. Kerry delicately moved into his arms, feeling his warm, bare skin against her own. She snuggled close to him, rubbing his shoulders, running her fingers through his hair.

"Do you remember when I told you I believe that sex is only appropriate when you love the person you're with?" he asked her. 

She looked at him, her heart starting to pound. 

"Yes," she whispered.

"I love you, Kerry."

She touched his face, and her tears started flowing again. She started laughing when he rolled his eyes, pretending to be exasperated with her. She covered her face with her hands, but he moved her hands away and kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, and her cheeks, kissing away the tears before finding her mouth, gently teasing her into opening up.  

"I never thought I'd love anyone again," he said, caressing her cheek. "I was scared that I was going to die alone, that no one would ever give a damn about me again." 

She kissed him, hard, making sure he knew that she did give a damn-that she would always give a damn. He took a deep breath, and looked into her eyes again. "I belong to you, Kerry. You have my heart." 

"I belong to you," she whispered. "I'm yours. You're...you're in my blood. I can't get you out of my system. I used to feel the same way...that I was fated to be alone forever. But not any more." 

They stared at each other for a long time, and she stroked his hair, closing her eyes for a moment before letting go. Letting go of all her past mistakes, all her loneliness and her bitterness, her fears, her frailties, her insecurities. "I love you, Luka."

"I know," he smiled at her. But there were tears in his eyes, and she cupped his face in her hands and gently kissed them away.  

"I'll never let you cry again, Luka. I'll never let you have that kind of pain again. Ever. I promise."  

For a while, they lay wrapped up in each other, consciously creating a world only for themselves to occupy.  

"This is it, isn't it? This is just the beginning," she whispered, looking up at him.

He grinned at her. "You're right. We've only just started. It's going to be interesting." 

"We should make a few plans," she said.  

"My only plan, Kerry," he said, pulling her closer. "Is that fifty years from now, I'll be bringing you wildflowers on our wedding anniversary. Everything else...eh...that's just filler." 

She looked up at him, her initial surprise melting away into indescribable happiness. Fifty years from now. They'd be in their nineties. Still in love, still making love. She could almost see it, even if it was a little blurry. Children, grandchildren...great-grandchildren. All speaking Croatian, of course, as well as English. Some pale, with red hair, some with olive skin and beautiful eyes, all with magnificent tempers and hearts too big for their bodies. Arguments over toaster settings, laughing over meals of boiled crabs, taking summer trips to Croatia, to see the beautiful, rugged coast he had told her about... 

Kerry Weaver, the lonely, unloved, unwanted foundling, had a future. And she looked forward to it.

Later, as they lay together, tired and sated, neither had to say a word. They just relaxed, holding each other, giving warmth to each other, neither wanting to let go. There was plenty of time to plan the details of their life together. The day was just beginning, and they had a lifetime to worry about the small things.

The wounds had been healed. Right now, there was just the future.  

Kerry looked up at him, delighted to see that he was asleep. Softly, she kissed his cheek and buried her head against his chest, closing her eyes. It was a new day, a new direction, a new life.

She was finally home.

THE END!