Sex Diaries
Part Seven - I Want A Cave Man, I Want A Brave Man!
By Miesque
miesque1973@msn.com

RATING: PG (mild language)
SETTING: Season Seven (aka "Season of the Pod People") into Season Eight. Luka has long since broken up with Droopy
McHangdog (a.k.a., Abby Lockhart) and is Alone Again (naturally...)
CATEGORY: Luka Kovac/cast. Romantic/comedy/drama, vague spoof of 'Bridget Jones's Diary'...may be rather humorous, may be angsty, may end with a nuclear bomb wiping out all of Chicago...who knows?
SONGS: 'Johnny Get Angry', by Joanie Sommers; 'You Don't Know Me', by Ray Charles
NOTE: Ana Karenjina really did win the 1977 Yugoslav Derby (my-Luka would have been about 17), beating colts-a tough
thing for a filly. Racing continued in Belgrade despite the Balkan Wars (a little beauty is a good thing, even in a war). For the sake of trivia, she went on to be the mom of 1985 Yugoslav Derby winner Ajvanho. Just in case you're ever on "Who Wants to Strangle Regis Philbin With His Tie?", this information could come in handy.
ARCHIVE: If you must, but please inform author. :)
SPOILERS: For Season Seven and Wishful Thinking for Season Eight
PREVIOUS INSTALLMENTS: Starter Pistols and Sex Diaries; Fishin' for the Runnin'; Heat Stroke; Grocery Store Cowboy;
Cheesecake and Whine; Times Of Your Life



4 August 2001

Ran into John in lift today at work, and he apologised for
behaviour, said he had acted like a moron and wanted to
make it up to me. Offered to buy me dinner tomorrow night
and I accepted, as have nothing better to do. Been a bit blue,
so why not? He's a cute boy. Not like he can date Abby
Lockhart, as she is med student. Tho' he continues to moon
over her.

In lounge, I had a rather interesting conversation with Dr.
Kovac, who was off-duty but there going over charts ("Had
nothing else to do today.") and drinking coffee. He looked
smashing in jeans and teal shirt, five o'clock shadow at ten in
the morning.

Before I could stop myself, I asked him if he missed Croatia.

"Sometimes."

"Must be quite a culture shock," I say, stirring my coffee and
trying to look thoughtful, when I'm only actually thinking about
how good he looks with grey hair at temples. Noticed today
that he limps a bit when tired. Contemplating how he got the
injury. Perhaps sports? He looks athletic enough. But he's
also from Croatia, a country where gunfire was a means of
settling many arguments. So many things to wonder about,
when it comes to this man.

"Yes. Things are quite different here in...in America," he
said. He looked at me with those odd-coloured
eyes. "Americans spell everything wrong, for instance. No 'u'
in 'colour', for instance."

I laughed at that. "Yeah. It is odd. You said you'd been to
England a few times?"

Dr. Kovac nodded. "Yes. London mainly, but out into the
countryside a bit, too. Spent the summer with a relative
once..a...a couple of years ago...and went all over England,
Scotland and Wales. He was racing mad so I had to go to
Ascot Week with him. Not that I didn't enjoy it...just that I
was...uh...I was there at a bad time, really..."

Why does he stammer when he talks about any aspect of his
past? Is he hiding something? Has he had really awful
experiences? I've heard rumors via the nurses that
something truly dreadful happened to his family in Croatia,
and I'm afraid to even contemplate what that might have
been. Alice has told me about things she saw in Somalia that
still gives me nightmares.

He looks like he brought up a painful subject, so I skirt neatly
past that and tackle the main subject yet again, which he
appears to appreciate.

" I always went to Ascot...every year of my life since I was a
baby...until this year, that is." I shrug. "Kind of a tough
commute from Chicago."

He grinned at me. "Went to the Yugoslav Derby once, when I
was seventeen. I remember the winner, in fact...a filly
named Ana Karenjina. My cousins were certain that a filly
could never win at that distance over colts, but I've always
had a knack for deciphering odds, so I picked her and she
won. Made my day, that's for sure. Made quite a few dinars
off that filly. I even remember her sire was named
Casanova. Not Carter or Malucci."

I laughed, but later wondered why he'd say that about the
Casanova/Carter/Malucci connection. Neither John nor Dave
had what I'd call the 'Marks of Greatness' in the romance
department.

"But I gather you're not a big racing fan, hmm?"

"No. Not really. But I grew up around horses...on a farm, I
mean. A regular working farm. My grandfather had one
in..in Dalmatia. Cows, horses, pigs, sheep..."

"Really. That must have been fun."

"Not when you're milking cows at four in the morning," he
said dryly.

The way he says that makes me start giggling, and he looks
up at me, smiling slightly, something in his expression that I
can't quite define. Just then, John came in and glared at Dr.
Kovac for a moment, but Dr. Kovac said nothing. Just got up
and left. Oh, John, why don't you just grab me by my hair
and drag me to your cave for a rousing game of nude
Scruples?

I start laughing as I remember song 'Johnny Get Angry'.
Amazing what you can find on the internet. Tune is now
stuck in my head. I believe I will go insane as a result.

Johnny, I said we were through
Just to see what you would do
You stood there and hung your head
Made me wish that I were dead

Oh, Johnny get angry, Johnny get mad
Give me the biggest lecture I ever had
I want a brave man, I want a cave man
Johnny, show me that you care, really care for me

Every time you danced with me
You let Freddy cut in constantly
When he'd ask, you'd never speak
Must you always be so meek?

Every girl wants someone who
She can always look up to
You know I love you, of course
Let me know that you're the boss

Johnny, get angry, Johnny
Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny

"What are you laughing at?" John asked me.

"Nothing. Absolutely...bwa-hahahaha! Nothing!"



Luka slapped off his gloves and hurled them into the bin with
a bit too much venom, all under the watchful eye of Jing-Mei
Chen, who was trying to figure out what had her friend so
upset. She knew better, however, than to approach him right
now. Let him cool off, then track him down and find out what
was eating him.

He really was angry. He hadn't ever felt this...well, jealous, in
years. Not since he'd seen Danijela talking and laughing with
Petar Rakovic, back when he was eighteen years old. He
barely knew Alexandra Morgan. He had carried on only a few
conversations with her, mainly just friendly chatting. But
every part of him had been alert, awake...alive...while talking
to her. And that little jerk John Carter was stepping in again.
It hadn't mattered so much when Carter had horned in on
Abby. Luka had forgiven him for that a long time ago, and his
dislike of the young resident had nothing to do with all that
foolishness back in May. In order for Luka to have been
jealous of Carter, with regards to Abby, it would have
required Luka to have been in love with Abby. Which hadn't
been the case. Letting her go had been simple and
surprisingly painless, if tinged with regret and sadness on his
part, because he felt he had failed her. But now...
dammit...now he felt awful.

He was sitting on the bench in the ambulance bay, glaring at
the cars passing by, feeling foolish for being in a helpless
petulant snit, when Jing-Mei came out and strolled over.

"Hey."

He said nothing. Barely even looked at her. Jing-Mei put her
hand on his shoulder and waited.

"What's wrong?" she asked at last, sitting down beside him.

"Having a bad day, that's all."

"Yes. That GSW...it was terrible, huh? Too many gunshot
wounds to treat..."

"That's not it."

"Oh."

"I mean, that was bad. Eleven years old, already selling
drugs and now...dead. Hard to believe it. But... that's not it."

"So what is it?"

"I'm just...wound up. Is that the term? Yeah. I'm wound
up. Been having trouble sleeping lately."

"Yeah. The heat'll do that."

He glared at her for a moment, then looked away. She
wasn't referring to the weather at all.

"Why don't you just ask her out?"

Luka gripped the bench seat with his hands, until his knuckles
turned white. "She's dating Carter."

Jing-Mei rolled her eyes dramatically. "Take some initiative!
You told me Carol kissed you on that 'date'...made the first
move, basically. Then Abby kissed you first and then asked
you out first. But with your wife, you made all the first
moves, right?"

"Yes." Luka wished he hadn't spilled all that information to
Jing-Mei, because he knew she'd eventually use it against
him. "But I don't play those kinds of games. Carter can.
Abby can. Hell, you can, if you want. But that's not me. I
don't steal the girlfriends of other men."

Jing-Mei sighed. That was true. If Carol had been kind
enough to inform Luka of her past with Doug, and had been
up front and honest, he would never have pursued her.
Not by a long shot.

"But if you're interested in this woman, *take the bull by the
horns*!" she said adamantly.

Luka stood up, shrugging her hand off her shoulder, but
looking down at her apologetically. "My shift ended five
minutes ago. I'm going home."

"Luka...you are so stubborn! Just admit that you like her and
ask her out! Maybe she'll say yes. Any fool can see she likes
you!"

Luka turned around. "Does she?" he asked, incredulous, his
heart stopping briefly.

"Of course she does!"

He shook his head. "Then she's a fool." With that, he turned
and walked away. Jing-Mei sat on the bench for a long time,
shaking her head in amazement. There he was, tall, dark,
handsome, sexy and sweet...and totally clueless.

Well, then, Jing-Mei would simply have to give him a clue.

"This could be fun!" she laughed as she made her way back
into the ER.



10PM, 5 August 2001

We had a v. pleasant meal. John pulled out all stops, really
turned on charm. He has what I'd call 'warmth and charmth',
as a friend of mine put it re: an old boyfriend of mine in
school. We had dinner at Italian restaurant, he tried to order
but I'm afraid his Italian is a tad rusty, as I believe he called
waiter a 'mollusk'. But the food was good and was all
washed down with v. good wine. Went dancing at nightclub,
enjoyed self thoroughly. John not so bad company, when
you're slightly drunk. Thank God we didn't go to a karaoke
bar. That seems to be the in thing around here lately,
everybody demonstrating their appalling lack of talent at
singing. Reminds me...need to find 'Golden Throats' CD for
Jing-Mei, who wants to hear Jack Webb singing 'Try A Little
Tenderness'. Apparently, she wishes to see how strong her
bladder is, because that cover of TALT will cause anybody to
pee their pants.



Luka's mood started out lousy and went downhill the moment
he saw Alexandra and Carter leave together. An almost
instantaneous headache began, right across his left eye and
worked it's way over his temple. He was in no mood to speak
to anyone, not even Jing-Mei, who tried all day to make him
laugh. If the sight of them leaving together didn't make it
very clear, then nothing else would. He went into the lounge,
poured himself a cup of coffee, and stood at the window,
staring out at the street.



5 August 2001

11:15PM Sent John packing when he tried to get me into
bed. Have resolved not to sleep with him. Just not
interested. For sex to be good, there has to be enthusiasm
on both parts.

Mum called and said that I should record 'Good Morning,
America' tomorrow, as Alice will be on, being interviewed
about her work with International Red Cross in Somalia.
Tsetse flies was all I remember about trip to Somalia, and
poor starving children with milk-white corneas. Such a sad
place. Not many people in Somalia on Weight Watchers
program, that's for sure.

Looked at Jane's VCR and realised I had no idea how to
program it. Dug through countless drawers for instruction
book, but none in sight. Remote control of no use, either.
Might as well be in Swahili. Called Jing-Mei, frantic.

"My sister is going to be on the telly tomorrow morning, and I
need to record it, but I've no idea how to program the bloody
VCR. What do I do?"

Jing-Mei v. quiet for moment, and I thought she'd start
screaming at me for waking her up, but she sighed and used
Patient Voice. "I have no idea. The clock on my VCR still
blinks 'twelve-o'clock' all the time. Sorry. Call... umm...call
Dr. Kovac. Maybe he knows."

Tramp!

I called Dr. Kovac, but no answer. Sigh. Left message on
machine. "Hi, this is Alexandra. I mean, Dr. Morgan.
Uh...having trouble with my VCR, wishing I could record 'Good
Morning, America' which has a story tomorrow on my sister
Alice who worked in Somalia for the Red Cross and has
written a book about it. Called 'Haunted Eyes', by the
way...by Dr. Alice Morgan-Hughes, Ph.D.. Have already called
Jing-Mei, but she has no idea. Uh...if...if you get home
before...before soon, perhaps you could call me with some
advice? Have no idea how to operate this bloody thing, and
the remote control could be used to contact aliens for all I
know about it. It's eleven-thirty-five. Fifth August. Two-
thousand-one. In the evening. Umm...bye!"

Idiot.



Luka went out for a drink. He rarely let himself get drunk,
because it was usually just pointless. He wanted alcohol,
though, to dull the pain for a little while.

He was kicking himself, like usual. Always setting himself up
for a fall. Abby was right about that-he was an expert at it.
He remembered how deeply those words had hurt him.
Remembered how he had tried to be supportive to her during
her travails with her mother. But it had all come to nothing.
He bore Abby no ill-will. In fact, he liked her just fine. Just
didn't love her. Every time he was around her, he felt
uncomfortable and sad-a kind of negative gestalt. They had
been bad for each other, poison for each other's spirits.
Breaking up had been the best thing for them both.

But that didn't change the fact that he was lonely.

He sat on the barstool, tossing back whiskey shooters, and
watching couples swaying on the dance floor. It took him a
minute to recognize the song playing.

You give your hand to me and then you say hello
And I can hardly speak, my heart is beating so
And anyone could tell, you think you know me well
But you don't know me
No you don't know the one who dreams of you at night
And longs to kiss your lips and longs to hold you tight
To you I'm just a friend, and that's all I've ever been
No, you don't know me

For I never knew the art of making love
Though my heart aches with love for you
Afraid and shy I let my chance go by
The chance that you might love me too

You give your hand to me and then you say good-bye
I watch you walk away beside the lucky guy
To never, never know the one who loves you so
No, you don't know me

It also took him a minute to recognize Randi Fronzac sitting at
a table, by herself. She looked up at him, her brow furrowed
for a moment, then she got up and made her way over.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"Wanna dance?" she asked.

"No."

"We could play darts," she said, nodding toward a small
group that had gathered on the other side of the room. Not a
great idea, giving sharp projectiles to inebriated people, Luka
thought.

"No thanks."

"You're here alone?" she asked him.

He gave her a look. "What, didn't you notice I came here with
the Mormon Tabernacle Choir? Don't you see them? They're
over there playing foosball and drinking wine spritzers."

Randi smiled. She had a soft spot for Dr. Kovac. He was so
lonely, and everybody knew he had a thing for Dr. Morgan.
This guy...he needed some help. A bit of a boost to his ego.

"Strange that a gorgeous guy like you doesn't have a lot of
female company...of the romantic type, I mean. You hang out
with Kerry and Jing-Mei all the time."

He glared at her and tossed back another shot of whiskey.

"You should go home, Luka. Drinking won't make it any
better."

"Won't make what any better?" he snapped.

"The fact that you're in love with Alexandra Morgan."

He growled like an angry tiger and turned away from her.
She shook her head. "So you're not in love with her?"

"I don't even know her."

"So? Sometimes it's just...kismet. Or fate. Or whatever.
Maybe it's just chemistry. I don't know. But I've seen how
you look at her. You, Dr. Kovac, are in very deep smit."

Luka ordered another double shot of whiskey and tried to
ignore her. To be exposed like this-to have somebody read
him this way-irritated him. "I don't have any feelings for
Alexandra Morgan. She's a co-worker and that's that. So
please leave me alone."

Randi rolled her eyes. "So you're not even going to chance
it?"

"Of course not!" he snapped. He pulled a roll of bills out of
his pocket and put them on the table. "I don't want to hear
any more about it." He turned and looked at her for a
moment, then pushed past her and stalked away. Randi
decided to throw caution to the wind and followed him out.



6 August 2001

6AM Up at crack of dawn today, to see if I perhaps I can at
least get the channel on the telly right and VCR to record. Hit
all kinds of buttons. I believe, at one point, the microwave
came on. Nothing happening so far with VCR and am getting
v. frustrated. Would hate to not have tape of Alice, and since
Mum & Dad are equally clueless about VCRs it's down to me,
Johnny or Alice. Neither of us being v. good with electronic
appliances.

Am now watching porn on Cinemax. I'm not sure that
position is anatomically possible. Why is porn always more
hilarious than arousing for me? Nobody makes love like that.
Sex is usually a mess. Hair matted to side of head, makeup
smeared, underwear dangling off ankle, broken furniture,
stained sheets, occasional screaming, sweat, lost earrings.
Once a guy tried to rip off my panties. There he was, hauling
away at my undies and I'm saying, "What are you
doing?" "Bein' sexy!" "Well, thanks a lot, Romeo! You just
dislocated my hip!"

No call back from Dr. Kovac. But Jing-Mei calls at 6:30AM and
tells me that if I just put the TV on the right channel and
push 'record', it should work just fine. Show about to start,
and now I've lost the remote control. Where did I put the
bloody thing?! Search through entire apartment as show
comes on. Hear no mention of Dr. Alice Morgan-Hughes,
Ph.D. (her snottily pretentious 'professional' name), but
perhaps that's because she's on later in show. Have to be at
work at 9AM, cannot sit here waiting. Finally attack VCR itself
and punch 'record', then rush to get shower and get ready for
16-hour shift. V. cross. Lost keys. Forgot to clean out turtle
food bowls, so flies all over truly disgusting piece of
watermelon.



Randi only drove Luka home. He was in no condition for such
things, after all. She'd always been rather intrigued by the
tall Croatian, and hoped to get to know him a little better.
Strange, but she wasn't interested in him romantically. But
it was odd how women always seemed to be drawn to him.
Maybe he was one of those totally masculine males who were
nonetheless in touch with their 'female' side. Something like
that. Anyway, she drove him to his apartment, cajoled and
scolded him up to his apartment, and helped him in.

Luka glowered at Randi for a while, then turned and headed
to his bedroom. He just wanted to sleep. To forget. He
would get over this ridiculous affliction soon enough, he was
sure. Randi, however, followed him into the bedroom.

"Nice place you got here," she said.

"Thanks."

"Get some sleep, okay? You look bushed."

Bushed? Luka thought. I didn't even vote. He collapsed, fully-
clothed, on his bed and went to sleep. Randi pulled his shoes
off, sighed, and left him alone. She could see no reason to
stay-he would be all right. As soon as she was outside, she
got out her cell phone and called Jing-Mei.

"Hey. Guess what?"

"The earth is about to crash into the sun?"

"Dr. Kovac is in love with Alexandra."

"I already told you that!"

"Well, yeah. But still...he's drunk, sound asleep, very
depressed. I haven't seen him this blue since Carol left.
What should we do?"

"Lie low for a while. I know Luka pretty well. Pushing him is
always a bad idea. Just let him stew in his own juices, and I'll
keep working on Alexandra. True love will win the day!"

Randi rolled her eyes. Well, it was possible. But the Real
World had a way of making the path to true love very
bumpy.



6 August 2001

11P Got home, found two messages on answering machine.

Message #1: "Hello, darling. This is your mother. Alice was
wonderful on 'The Today Show', wasn't she? Hope you got it
recorded, as no one else could figure out how to operate their
VCRs. Love you. Bye!"

Checked VCR. 'Good Morning, America'. Wrong mf show.

Threw tape across room and stomped around for a while,
feeling so bloody mad. She told me it was goddamned 'Good
Morning, America'! Want to scream, but it's v. late and worry
someone might think I'm being attacked. Ugh. Damn damn
damn damn...

Eat entire bag of potato chips and get angrier as I realise I've
already eaten all my chocolate ice cream bonbons and
Twiglets. Then notice that TAM is still blinking, so I check it.

Message #2. "Uh...hi. This is Dr. Kovac. I checked the TV
listings and noticed that your sister was on the 'Today' show,
not 'Good Morning, America'. I suppose it's easy to get them
confused...so I recorded it for you...will...will bring the tape to
work tomorrow. Bye."

Wept for joy. Intend to keep recording of his voice-such a
beautiful voice. Message all too short, but he at least is to the
point. Called Mum and told her I had a recording of the
show. Didn't tell her I had recorded wrong show myself and
had broken a perfectly innocent cassette tape in a petulant
snit. Mum never approved of outward displays of emotion,
except of course for herself. She can slam a door into next
Ash Wednesday, but we were never allowed to bellow with
rage, throw or kick things.

Found remote control in refrigerator, beside bottle of Milk of
Magnesia.

To be continued...