Sex Diaries
Part Eight - A Bigger Mousetrap
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?
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; I Want A Cave Man, I Want A Brave Man!



8 August 2001

Saw a mouse in the kitchen this AM. Brief moment of panic
(okay, so I screamed), then calmed down and looked for
mouse trap. Don't want little jerk getting into my Twiglets.
Jane has no mouse traps, of course, so I must buy one. Not
sure I want to get one of those "snap" traps. A humane trap
would be nicer, I think, but then again it's a bloody mouse. If
he were greeting people at DisneyLand I believe I'd be more
charitable, but this fellow is in my kitchen, getting into God
knows what.

Remembered passage from 'Dr. Sleep', where hero buys a
snake that had gotten loose in pet shop and eaten all the mice
and got all lumpy. If I recall, he (the snake) didn't take the
journey to his new home well and regurgitated mice all over
the guy's flat. But then that would cause a double case of the
willies for me. Don't need mice and snakes. Ew.

Got to work late because I got stuck in traffic. Made it in at
9:15AM, Dr. Weaver snapping at me because she is now late
for a conference. Just stood and took it like a man, then
made way to lounge and coffee after checking board. Dr.
Kovac sitting in there by himself, reading newspaper and
drinking inevitable incredibly strong-smelling cuppa. When he
sees me, he gets up and practically bolts from the room like
I'm Typhoid Mary. Tries to do it subtly, but it's obvious that
he doesn't want to be around me. Mutters something about
needing to see patients, but the board was empty.

Feel horrible.



Randi nudged Jing-Mei and nodded her head in the direction
of the lounge door. Luka had just emerged, clutching his cup
of coffee. He put the cup on a gurney, started to pull his lab
coat on, and reached for the cup again, but the gurney was
being pushed down the hall. He had to run to catch up and
grab the cup before it spilled. He glared at Dave Malucci, who
was snickering at the sight of the attending looking so harried,
then turned and headed up the hall, mumbling.

"Two words, Dr. Kovac," Randi said as he came up and pulled
the plexiglass board down to check for anything
new. "Thera. Pee."

"I have two words for you too, Randi, but they're not fit for
polite company," Luka snapped in reply. He glanced back and
saw Alexandra coming out the lounge, and looked away,
saying something extremely awful-in Croatian. Jing-Mei was
glad she didn't speak the language, as whatever he'd said had
obviously been very nasty, because he took a sip of
scalding coffee and swished it around in his mouth, as if
punishing himself.

John Carter came swaggering up to Alexandra, and she
greeted him with a slight smile. Luka watched from beside
the fax machine at the front desk, doing his best to hear what
was being said while not looking like he was listening. The
phone started ringing and Frank the DeskNazi answered.

"What? What are you saying?" Frank yelled into the
phone. "Dr. Kovac? Yeah, sure, he's right here." Frank put
his hand over the mouthpiece. "Dr. Kovac, some guy who
don't speak English no good on line two."

Luka narrowed his eyes at Frank, and noticed that Jing-Mei
and Randi both looked less than pleased as well. But he
merely took the phone and hit the line. "Yes?"

"Luka? It's your father."

"I gathered that. What's going on?"

"Have you decided if you're coming to Croatia for Christmas?"

"Papa, I've told you already that I can't come. It's not even
possible."

A long silence from Andrej Kovac. "All right. Then I'm
coming to Chicago." <click>

"Papa? Papa? You're...dammit!"

Luka held the phone for a long time, staring at it, stunned.
His father was coming to Chicago? No, surely not. This had
to have been a prank call. He checked the phone booth, just
to make sure Dave wasn't standing there, demonstrating an
astounding ability to speak fluent Croatian. But no one was in
the phone booth.

"Oh, God, just strike me dead right now. Please..."

He felt a terrible headache coming on, and he was powerless
to do anything about it. He glanced over and saw Jing-Mei
still standing there, looking concerned.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"My father is coming to Chicago. My God...what the hell is
wrong with him? I swear, ever since my mother died he's
been completely nuts. Sold the house, lives in an
apartment in Zagreb, has a little...dog...Jakko the dog. Oh,
dear God. He's not gonna bring the dog, is he? It's a Jack
Russell terrier, like that dog on 'Frasier'. And he stares at
me. Just...stares at me. The dog, I mean. Dad, too,
frankly. Like they expect me to explode at any moment."

"There's probably a quarantine between the U.S. and Croatia,
Luka," Jing-Mei reminded him. "Besides, he's your father.
You ought to be thrilled to see him again."

Luka gave her a narrow look, then suddenly brightened.

"Oh! That's right!" He sighed with relief. "He can't bring the
dog! I'm saved...well, half-saved. I doubt the Croatian
government...such as it is...can quarantine fathers."

Jing-Mei laughed. "It won't be so bad, Luka. He's your
father. Not some ogre."

"You've never met my father, have you? I love the guy. He's
a great father and a good man. We were always very close.
But he has this knack for pushing all my buttons and driving
me crazy sometimes. It's like having a Jewish mother. Hard
to explain our relationship."

"At least he's not bi-polar, huh?"

Luka laughed mirthlessly and went in search of something to
do. Jing-Mei, however, followed him. "Question," she said,
raising an index finger.

"Eh?"

"I have a question. What's the government like in Croatia
now, anyway?"

"Vague."

She giggled. "Eeyore!"

"Rabbit!"



8 August 2001

3PM Finally getting a break. Been on feet all day, v. tired.
Looked in mirror in loo and hair is a total mess, eyes
bloodshot. Carter following me around like puppy all day,
attaching himself to me like barnacle, only not as cute Am v.
bored w/ him and wish he'd get a bloody life and leave me
alone. Already feeling miserable, don't need callow youth
following me around, trying to make his girlfriend jealous.
God. If Abby L. falls for this chump, I truly pity her.

Literally slammed into Dr. Kovac as I was leaving lounge,
causing him to drop several charts. Felt so bloody
embarrassed, but insisted on helping him. He became v.
agitated when I knelt down to start picking them up.

"It's not necessary!" He was all but snarling at me. Now what
have I done?!

"I'm sorry...."

"Stop apologising. Just go. Go on and do whatever you were
going to do. I can take care of this." He looks v. upset and
angry, and I don't know why.

I back out of the room, horrified, mumbling apologies. I
thought he at least could tolerate my presence. I suppose I
was wrong.



Luka felt like a total heel. He had treated Alexandra horribly
and there was no excuse for that. He felt he ought to
apologize to her for being so harsh today. Heading up the
front desk, he asked Amira, who had just checked in for her
shift, where Dr. Morgan had gone off to.

"Do I look like the police? I don't know!"

Yes, and thanks again for being so helpful, Amira, Luka
thought angrily and went in search of Alexandra. For a
moment or two, he thought of simply having her paged
overhead. Yeah, that'll go over well. "Dr. Morgan, Dr. Kovac
would like to apologize for acting like a total ass to you today.
He is currently on his knees in the lounge, prepared to plead
for your forgiveness...and, if possible, your heart. Please
hurry, as his knees can't handle hard floors very well."

Damn fool.

He paced around the ER for a while, catching the attention of
Jing-Mei, who was hoping to get home, soak her feet in
Epsom salts and die. She followed him to the elevators,
wincing because her feet were killing her. She had taken a
double shift so she could have the weekend off, but she had
to make time for her dear, sweet Luka.

"Hey, Eeyore," she grinned. He turned and looked at her, and
she saw the distress and guilt in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged and looked at his feet. "I'm looking for Dr.
Morgan. Have you seen her?"

"Alexandra? I think she went up on the roof for a while. She
seemed a little upset when I saw her last...I mean, everybody
goes up there to reflect and get some air. Don't get dramatic
images in your head Luka!"

"Who, me?" he said, but his voice was raspy. "I...uh...I'll see
you later, then, Jing-Mei."

"Yeah. I'm going home. Hey, maybe I'll come by tomorrow.
You promised you'd let me pick out some CDs."

"Yeah. Sure. Bye."

He pushed the button for the elevator and heard the 'ding'.
Jing-Mei watched him, giving him that enigmatic smile of
hers, and he tried to glare back. But it was useless. She
knew him too well. Once the doors closed, he leaned against
the wall, ignoring the curious gazes of Dr. Romano and
Shirley. He hadn't even noticed them when he'd got into the
elevator. He barely knew Shirley, but being on an elevator
with Robert Romano was...well, it wasn't exactly his idea of a
great time.

"Hey, there, Lucky. How's it goin'?" Romano asked.

"Fantastic," Luka replied.

"Good. Glad to hear that. I suppose the life of the Associate
Chief of the Emergency Department is often somewhat hectic."

"It can be."

The elevator dinged again, and the doors slid open. Shirley
stepped out, but Luka wanted to grab her and plead with her
to stay. But she appeared to be oblivious to Luka's pleading
look and was gone.

"Too bad you're not taking up more administrative
responsibilities, Kovac," Romano continued. "I've read your
reviews of the residents. Must say, you do excellent work.
Always right on the money with regard to the strengths and
weaknesses of the residents."

Luka stared at Romano for a moment, wondering what the
little man was getting at. There was always a hidden
meaning in nearly everything he said. "Thank you."

Robert Romano nodded and ignored Luka's bewildered stare.
If he wanted to praise a hard-working doctor, he damned well
would. Besides, he liked Kovac. The man took a lot of abuse
and had proven himself worthy of praise. He never
complained. Just came in, did fine-or, more often than not,
excellent-work, and took his knocks, thus making Romano
look good when it came time for quarterly reviews from the
hospital board. Romano had read Kovac's reviews and
recommendations from Mercy, Ravenswood and New
Western, and in each case his administrators had had high
praise for the tall, distant Croatian. And when Romano had
read Luka's test results and reviews in Europe and
America...good God. He wished he had made those kinds of
scores. This man was an asset to the ER, and Romano would
be damned if he didn't make sure Kovac stayed at CCGH.
Thus, a little cube of sugar for a battered old war horse
wouldn't hurt, every now and then.

Luka stuffed his hands in his pockets, not sure what to say.
He was suspicious of Romano, but figured it to be best to not
appear suspicious. Just do the usual thing and pretend to be
clueless.

"Of course, with your new position, you got a raise, I hear,"
Romano said. He eyed Luka, completely aware that
Kovac's 'clueless act' was a total put-on. He recognized
another wolf in the Croatian. This was no shrinking violet.
This was a tough-as-nails, battle-scarred, field-tested doctor,
a born leader, a guy who could make snap decisions in
horrible situations. That was why he had gone down to test
Kovac sometimes in the ER. Just to see what the man was
made of. The other attendings downstairs, except for Kerry
Weaver, always backed down in the face of Romano's tirades
and empire building operations. But Kovac had always stood
his ground, made his case, listened, watched, learned and
kept his head in even the worst scenarios. This was a man
Romano was proud to have at the controls downstairs.

"Yes. I can afford gum now," Luka nodded.

Romano snickered as the doors opened again. "I should hope
so, buddy. See ya 'round."

"Yeah. It's been surreal," Luka muttered as the doors closed.
He didn't see Romano turn around for a second before
grinning and heading into the surgery theatre.

Alone in the elevator now, Luka paced for a moment,
struggling to string together words he could say to Alexandra
without revealing too much of himself. Talking about himself
had always been a problem for Luka. What's to talk about,
anyway? He didn't think of himself as any great catch. He
was almost forty, suffered from frequent bouts of depression,
had a terrible temper, a totally warped sense of humor, and
bad knees. Plus, he was going gray. His brief morning
glimpse in the bathroom mirror had made him do a double-
take. He was turning into his father.

As if I could pour out my feelings now? I have no idea how to
voice those kinds of things. I wasn't any good at it with
Danijela, though it seemed to work somehow. She seemed
to like me a little. But she's dead. Nothing will make her
come back. Not her or Jasna or Marko. But why would I
want to be lonely now? Why would I want to be working
alongside this woman and not at least try...? But he had
tried with Carol. He had given it his best try, and had been
shot down and had spent several months in a fog of grief,
anger and despair. He had gotten into a terrible relationship
with Abby, but that had been beyond trying. There had
been nothing to try for, in the end.

Easy does it, old man. You're just going to apologize to her
for being such an ass, and you're damn well not going to
make a move on Carter's girlfriend. God, I hate having ethics
sometimes. Really, really hate it. It's a goddamned bitch.

The doors dinged open and Luka stepped out onto the roof.
He looked around for a moment, and he felt a brief moment
of panic. Where was she?

"Alexandra?!" he called.

"Right here."

He whirled around and she was leaning against the wall. She
had a cup of coffee in her hand, and she was looking up at
him, brows furrowed. The wind was blowing her hair, and
her cheeks were the loveliest shade of pink he'd ever seen.
He paused, hoping his mouth wasn't gaping open.

"Oh. Hi."

"I'm sorry...I mean, my...my break is over, isn't it? I should
be back downstairs, right? I dropped my watch in the sink
this morning and still haven't had a chance to buy a new one
so I have no idea what time it is and...uh..."

"No, no...that's not it. I mean...I wanted to apologize for my
behavior today. I was very wrong to yell at you. I behaved
like a complete ass and I'm sorry."

She looked stunned for a moment, then nodded slightly. "It's
all right."

"No, it isn't. I shouldn't be taking my problems out on other
people. There's no excuse for that...I've always had a
problem with that, you know. I...uh...just hope you won't
hold it against me. I'm usually a fairly nice person. Usually.
You might ask muggers, and drunk drivers about that and
they would be prone to disagree, but...uh...and hit and run
drivers"

"Muggers and drunk drivers are hardly the sorts of people I'd
be asking," she said gently. She looked away, toward the
lights of the city. It was dusk, and the light was fading. The
sun was almost below the horizon, just barely sending out
shades of pink, blue and grey across the western sky. "It's
beautiful up here."

"Yeah. I suppose." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and
examined his shoes.

"Do you come up here often?"

"No. Not really." Last time he'd been up here, for anything
besides Medivac, had been to ask Carol Hathaway if she was
angry at him. God, he'd been such a fool. And he wasn't
about to let himself get burned again. His heart just couldn't
take another hit.

"America is such a huge country," she said, after a long,
comfortable silence. "But I like it. I like the people
here...usually."

"Besides the muggers and drunk drivers," he smiled
slightly. "Yeah. It's an interesting place."

"How long have you been in America?"

"Six years. I...uh...lived all over. First in New York, then
in...Asheville, North Carolina, of all places. But it was nice.
Wooden furniture capital of the world, so I got a lot of
experience dealing with saw-related injuries. Re-attached a
lot of fingers."

She laughed. "Were you paid in furniture?"

"Yes. My bed was handmade by a guy whose finger I sewed
back on...he kept calling me 'Ernie' and I couldn't understand
why...until somebody told me about Ernie Kovacs, which I still
didn't quite understand." He rolled his eyes. "Americans!
Anyway, he sold it to me for almost nothing."

"Really? It must be a beautiful bed."

Luka coughed nervously. Was she flirting with him? There
was an enigmatic little smile curving her mouth, and she was
looking up at him, cheeks still flushed, eyes twinkling
mischievously. This conversation was going into dangerous
territory, so he geared it back to something a little safer.

"Anyway...I...uh...was kind of wound up. My father is coming
to Chicago and so I'm kind of...uh...I can't figure out what's
wrong with him, you know? He's just acting...strange."

"I take it you're not looking forward to his visit?"

"Oh, I'm looking forward to it. And...not looking forward to
it. We seem to have trouble getting along lately. He seems
to have this ability to push all my buttons and lately we just
seem to yell at each other. Or not talk at all. Either way, it's
kind of rough and it makes me...tired."

"It's hard to be an adult child, isn't it?"

"Yes. He's sixty-six, and it's hard for me to separate 'father'
from 'senior citizen'. I have a hard time thinking of him as an
old man. I'll never forget him as a healthy, active thirty-year
old. Now, he's got arthritis and a touch of angina and he
can't remember things too well any more...." His voice trailed
off, and he ran a hand through his hair. "And I feel bad
because I don't know how to talk to him. There's this...this
wall between us now."

Alexandra tucked her hands behind her back, still looking up
at him, waiting, listening intently. Luka's gaze fell from her
eyes to her mouth, and he took a deep breath. No, no. I
can't do this, he thought. God, she's beautiful. And kind.
And she's letting me talk.

"Maybe you and he can work things out? I mean, if he's
paying a visit that means he wants to try...right?"

Try. Luka looked at his feet again, fighting an overwhelming
urge to take her into his arms and gratefully kiss her for a few
hours. But that would lead to kissing things besides her
mouth. He wasn't ready. At least, that's what he told
himself. And he was determined not to horn in on another
man's girlfriend.

"Yeah. I guess that's possible. Or he could just be coming to
see if he can drive me crazy for a few weeks."

Alexandra laughed. "I'm sure that isn't the case."

"From your lips to God's ear," Luka struggled to smile, but
was unsuccessful. He tried to stop grinding his thumb into the
palm of his hand, but failed. Before he knew what he was
doing, he was stepping closer to her, and if it hadn't been for
the sound of the door opening, he would have bent down and
kissed her. But instead, the sound startled him and veered
away to see John Carter coming out onto the roof. He
glanced back at Alexandra, then brushed past Carter and
went back inside. When the door closed behind him, Luka
leaned back against it and closed his eyes. He had almost
kissed her. What the hell was wrong with him?!



8 August 2001

11:30PM What's wrong with me?

I swear, Dr. Kovac was going to kiss me on the roof tonight.
He was almost there, could have made it all the way to third
base if he'd liked, but that bloody naff git Carter came out and
ruined what could have been a very nice interlude. Had to try
to remain cool and not throw Carter over side.

"What do you want?" I asked him. "Is somebody looking for
me?"

"No. I was just checking up on you."

"Well, I'm fine."

"What was Killer Kovac doing out here with you?" he asked,
nodding toward the door.

"We were having a very nice chat. And I don't appreciate you
calling him Killer Kovac. I've heard about you, after all.
According to the rumors I've heard, you were popping pain
killers and attempting to kill as many patients as you could get
your bloody hands on. And smirking the whole time, too. I'm
sure your patients always appreciated that. You may be a
fine doctor, John, but you are no gentleman. In fact, the
more I get to know you, the more I wish I didn't."

Quite enjoyed that. He needed to be taught a lesson. Who
does he think he is? God's gift to women and medicine?
He looked quite miffed, then turned and walked away, in quite
a temperamental snit. No wonder my canary Harold hated
him. I don't actually hate John, but sometimes I don't like
him at all.

Still feel bloody awful. Would have liked to have been kissed
by Dr. Kovac v. much. Sigh...what is it about me that he
doesn't like? Am I that dreadfully ugly? I'm not a beast, for
God's sake. Have v. nice legs, good for wrapping around a
man, and everything else is put together correctly. Observe
no mutations on person. Am not fat, nor too thin. Breasts
right size, as far as I know. Most men appear to appreciate
them. Hair right color-v. dark brown, curly, eyes blue, no
styes. Don't have halitosis or B.O. Keep teeth clean. Do not
smoke, am not drinking too much lately, tho' tonight feel like
drinking entire bottle of Jack Daniels.



Amazing how putting on clean underwear makes one think
about death.

Luka changed into jeans and a T-shirt, then stretched out
tiredly on his couch. He had been thinking about death ever
since he'd got home. Thinking about what he'd do if he had
just three weeks left to live. What would he do? Well, first,
he'd go out and buy an entire carton of Pall Malls. Then he'd
buy that bottle of wine he'd been eyeing for a while but was
beyond his price range.

He thought about all the 'last things' he'd do. Last meal. Last
novel. Well, novella. Only three weeks left, after all.
Last...well, he didn't want to think about that. If he was dying
in three weeks, he'd make certain that the last time he'd done
that hadn't been with Abby Lockhart. Talk about
depressing. Last joke. Last laugh. Last story. All the those
little things one tends to take for granted. Last tear shed.
Last shave. Last shower. Last conversation with a friend.

Then, in the last week of his life, he would get his life in
order. Arrange for his funeral. No...he'd be cremated. No
use taking up extra space. He'd get his will written
out...every last nickel would go to some kind of charity, he
supposed, as he had no family besides his father-he'd also
make sure Andrej was taken care of, of course-a comfortable
sum set aside to see to his care. The rest would go to the
International Red Cross, perhaps. Alexandra's sister worked
for that fine organization. He remembered having viewed
that tape of Alice Morgan-Hughes' interview on 'The Today
Show' several times before taking it to Alexandra, noting a
striking resemblance between the two sisters. But Alexandra
was much prettier, much more lively. There was no real
comparison.

He fell asleep on the couch, hugging a pillow to his chest, and
was awakened suddenly by the sound of his doorbell ringing.
Sitting up, he checked his clock and saw that it was three in
the morning. Getting up very slowly, he staggered to the door
and, after a brief battle with the three different locks, opened
it.

Andrej Kovac was standing there, two suitcases at his side.

"Papa?"

"Hello, son."

Luka wasn't sure what to do. Hug him? Invite him in?

Before he could decide, Andrej's arms were around his neck
and he was being hugged fiercely. Tears came to his eyes,
and he hugged his father back, lost in those familiar scents of
aftershave and pipe tobacco. Memories of childhood, the vast
majority of them good, came flooding back, and he put his
head on Andrej's shoulder, feeling better than he'd felt in
quite a while.

It wasn't home, but it was close. It was very, very close.

To be continued...