TITLE: Kovac Pride
AUTHOR: Miesque
RATING: PG-13 (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!; A Bigger
Mousetrap; Bless Me, Father; For I Am About to Sin; Out On A Ledge;
Have An Egg Instead; Charity; The Devil Cuts Loose; Toads and
Falsehoods; Ready to Go; Saying Goodbye; Crazy From the Heart; Danger;
Forty Black Balloons; Partied Out; Young Men Coming Aus; Price Check;
Going Once...; Check, Please; Eighteen Patients and a Dozen Roses;
Life Is Good; A Handful of Pebbles; The Horror...the Horror; Gumballs
and Gurneys; It's Not the Flu; Thud;  Hvratska and Cymru Celebrate
Christmas; Snow Business; New Year's Dissolutions; Into Sisters;
Sometimes You're the Windshield
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Ellen Hursh for editing and several 2AM
brain-storming sessions.



21 January 2002

6:18PM  Alice truly driving me mad.  She has expressed no desire to
move back to England, nor has she expressed any desire to speak with
lawyers.  I, meanwhile, am forced to live a sort of quasi existence,
working my short shifts (6 bloody hours a day, five days a week, per
Dr. Weaver's orders, tho' I feel just fine) and coming home to some
sort of crisis every bloody day.  Today I came home to find the boys
playing Rook and Alice looking nervous.  Knew something was up.

"What happened?" I asked her.

"Max called."

"And?"

"He's coming to Chicago."

"Oh, well, that's just lovely."  I glimpsed the manuscript of her new
book, 'Rip Off His Testicles and Feed Them to Crocodiles' (a title
that I tried to convince her would only appeal to a certain very minor
portion of the population) on the table.  It's finished.  It only took
her fifteen days to write it, and it's relatively short, compared to
'Haunted Eyes'.  I'm afraid to read it, frankly.  Do not need my head
filled with thoughts of how to destroy men, as I'm getting married in
less than a month.

"Yes.  And Luka called just before you came home.  He wants you to
call him back."

Now that *was* lovely, because I didn't see him today.  He worked from
midnight to noon and is probably home recovering.  Just got over his
flu and is feeling better, but complained yesterday over the phone
that he was on the verge of going insane if he didn't get to see me
*alone* (that is, both of us naked and alone in a room with a suitably
comfortable bed) soon.

Am beginning to show a bit-18 weeks pregnant.  I check the state of my
belly in the mirror every morning, and noted that I look like I have
the beginnings of a beer gut.  Not fun.  Had another ultrasound this
AM and Dr. Coburn said I am in excellent health, babies growing at
normal rate, everything fine and dandy.  I was able to make out forms
that looked baby-like on the screen, too.  Breasts getting
larger...pretty soon I could be a big-bellied porn star.

I do love that folic acid, though...glad I was already taking
multivitamins long before I even *met* Luka.  The stuff gives me a
little energy boost, too.  Do *not* love nausea and needing to pee a
lot, though it is getting better.  In fact, this AM I was able to eat
pancakes and fried eggs for breakfast without even feeling queasy.
Nice to spend less time with head down toilet.  Would be nicer if I
didn't have to wait an hour every morning for Alice to get out of
bloody bath.  She always has to be perfectly made up, her hair as neat
as possible...even though she doesn't actually *go* anywhere-just sits
in the living room, reading and writing and making a huge mess.  I'm
of the philosophy of 'If you aren't going anywhere, don't even change
out of your PJs and bathrobe, and don't bother with your bloody hair'.

Alice is advising me on pregnancy.  Makes it almost sound as though
Luka had nothing to do with it, which I don't really appreciate.  When
she asked me when and where the babies were conceived, I hedged.
"First week of October."

"Really? You're due 28th July, right?"

"Mmm..."

"So if I'm right you conceived these babies..."  She pulled out her
datebook and began flipping pages back.  "On 4th October?"

"Alice!"  She was always good at determining stuff like that.  V.
irritating.

"I take it you don't want to discuss the wheres and hows?"

"Certainly not!"

Alice looks smug.  "I take it you didn't conceive these babies in a
bed...right?"

"Alice, one more word I'll break your nose."

She giggles.  "He is quite sexy, hmm?  At least you've both got good
genes to contribute."

"Oh, well, at least now you're acknowledging that he had something to
do with it!" I snap.

"I just hope he doesn't cheat on you."

Ugh.  "Luka does not cheat."

"All men cheat!"

Shall not describe what happened next.  My sister and I fought
regularly as children, and though she was older, she was not as strong
and often ended up with a bloody nose.  She retreated back to the
guest bedroom and I scowled.  Niall and Edward saw the entire fight.
At least now they know I'm not to be trifled with.  They stared at me
for a long time, but I just sat on the couch and fumed.

Gah, phone!

7:15PM  Was Luka.  He's anxious to see me, and I'm equally anxious to
get away from my relatives.  Search through closet for clothes that
don't make me look like a tent, but nothing doing.  Finally settle on
one of those Empire-style dresses with no waist.  I feel like Empress
Josephine going slumming.  At least my fiancee isn't short lunatic
with world conquerage on his mind.  All Luka wants, hopefully, is to
conquer certain portions of my anatomy.  I will be willing to
surrender, that's for sure.  It's been-good God-almost a month since
we've made love.

2:19AM  Luka said I looked dead sexy in that dress, but apparently it
looked much better *off*.  We made hot monkey love and am now v.
relaxed.  It took some careful positioning, considering my belly, but
it all worked v. well.  He's sound asleep.  He practically pounced on
me when I came through the door and dragged me straight to bed,
muttering something about how he *hated* being away from me.  When I
informed him, during a breather, that Max was coming to deal with
Alice, he looked v. happy.  "Perhaps he'll come take her away!"

"Or kill her," I told him.  Which sounded a bit mean.  But really,
she's driving me crazy.

"Well, I think homicide would definitely cancel out the need for
divorce lawyers."  He was molesting me as he said this.  Memory
somewhat foggy after that.

3:15AM  Am suddenly weepy.  Can't understand it.  Thought the hormonal
fit thing was over.  Apparently not.  Burst into tears as Luka came
back from kitchen with some crackers and cheese (we both got the
munchies) and I started ranting about how much I hated having to work
short shifts, and how much I couldn't stand my sister's intrusion on
my life ("Love my sister!  I really do!  But I love her so much better
when she's several thousand miles away!") and how I always need to pee
and how I'm almost always horny and am sick of being away from him.
Between sobbing and yelling, I'm hugging him and then whacking him
with fists.  Meanwhile, Luka is calm and collected, watching me rant
and rave.  Which is v. irritating.

"Don't you ever get upset?" I sob/yell.

"Well...umm..."

"I'm sitting here naked, big floppy belly sticking out, gigantic boobs
spilling all over the place, hips widening, hair a mess, sobbing and
acting like a total bitch and you just *sit* there!"

"You're not a bitch, Alex," he reassures me.  "You're just carrying a
very small...litter... ouch!...I'm sorry, beba.  It's just that I've
been through this before.  I've learned to just *take* it.  It's just
the hormones and the nervousness setting in."

"Augh!"  I burst into tears again, and he hugs me and waits it out.
Such a sweet, sweet man.  Am so bloody lucky.  Tried to tell him how
grateful I am to him, but he suggested I *show* him and that sounded
fine to me.

Just as we're really getting into it, I felt something weird-like
being bumped or something.  "Ow!  What was that for?!"

"What was *what* for?" he gasped. 

"You hit me!"

"Where?"

"My belly!"

"I...wait...you felt like something hit you?"

"Yes!"

He sits up (which was also disappointing, as we didn't get to finish)
and stares at me.  "Alexandra, that was the babies."

"Wh-...really?  The...babies! I felt them move!"  Burst into tears
again, and he puts his hands on my belly.

"I feel them, too," he grinned at me.  "They're kicking...or at least
one is kicking.  You haven't felt them before?"

"No!  I mean...maybe I did.  Maybe I thought it was gas or
something...oh my God...this is so...real."  It is real.  V. real.  I
can feel them kicking.  Before, they were like little phantoms inside
me.  Now they're real and alive (God, I always *knew* they were alive,
but they didn't seem *real*) and they're growing inside me and kicking
me.

He puts his ear to my belly and then looks up at me.  "They're telling
me they can't wait to meet us."

"They are not!" I laughed.  "But I can't wait to meet them...though I
think I could pass on the labour."

He laughed and kissed me.  Then we just cuddled, our hands on my
belly, feeling them kick and swim around.  So exciting.  Wish I had
someone to tell.  Finally, just after Luka fell asleep, I picked up
the phone and called Alice, not giving a damn that I'm waking her up.

"Alice!  The babies moved!"

"Wunnerful."

"Now this is what *you're* going to do...it's time for *you* to move.
Pitch out that silly book you've written, because it's twaddle.  Then
you're going to talk to Max.  You're going to decide whether you want
to divorce him or if you want to reconcile with him.  It's your
decision, but it's one you have to make together...or something.  But
anyway, when I come home I expect you to be packing up to leave.
You've overstayed your welcome, Alice."

"Wha-..?" 

"Exactly.  I'm sick of this.  I'm getting married in less than a
month.  You and everybody else are definitely invited to the wedding,
and when the twins arrive I expect at least six tons of baby toys from
each of you.  But that's it.  I cannot deal with your problems for
you!"

Hang up on her and wake Luka to inform him of my decisiveness.  He
yawns and tells me that I'm being aggressive and strong for three now,
and goes back to sleep.  I suppose it's nice to have a man who doesn't
get upset about things.  If *both* of us were upset all the time, we'd
go insane.  I gave him a kiss and went back to sleep.  V. tired and
happy.



So many memories. 

Luka was awakened by Alexandra's arm nailing him right across the
chest.  After gingerly moving her arm aside and kissing her forehead,
he lay beside her, watching her sleep.  God, she was just so
beautiful.  And so kind.  Even in full rant mode, sobbing and
shouting, she looked beautiful.  He didn't really know why, but
whenever a woman he loved yelled at him, it only turned him on.  He
and Danijela had been fighting (sort of) when he'd become so aroused
that he'd practically jumped her bones and dragged her to bed.
Danijela had teased him, saying that he had a one-track mind.  She had
been right.  Once Luka latched on to an idea or an action, he was
relentless until the idea reached its final conclusion.  Thus...Marko.

He had spent so long alone that he'd begun to wonder if he'd ever find
anyone to share his life with again.  After Danijela's death, and his
experiences shortly thereafter, Luka had begun to live a kind of
half-life.  He worked constantly, to keep himself from thinking or
feeling.  He knew he suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress, and would
suffer from it for the rest of his life.  He would continue to have
bad times.  He knew he'd even sink into black depressions again.  But
he had Alexandra now.  She understood him, she listened to him, and
she gave a damn.

Savannah had been purely sexual.  He had not had any inkling of her
love for him.  He had cared for her, of course.  But it had been a
stifled, almost malformed kind of care.  He hated to think of her that
way, but Savannah had provided him with a physical outlet for all his
energy and frustration...and basic animal need.  Six years ago, he had
only needed a physical presence in his life.  Someone who would ask
nothing of him emotionally.  Savannah had done that, except that now
he felt guilty for having used her that way.  She had fallen in love
with him, which he had not wanted at all.  He figured she'd get over
him, though.  It wasn't like he was a great prize.

Then he'd met Carol Hathaway.  She had made him wake up from a kind of
emotional hibernation.  He knew she hadn't meant to hurt him-that her
kindness had been sincere, and she had offered him friendship when
he'd needed it desperately.  No one else had even bothered to speak
with him then, and she had provided him with something that had been
missing from his life for so long-a life.  She had been the first
person in quite a while to pay attention to him without ulterior
motives.  And when it had seemed like her signals were inviting a
different kind of attention from him, he'd gone for it.  He had never
been good at courtship, and looking back at his courtship of Carol, he
almost always winced.  He had made a fool of himself.  But it had hurt
just the same when she abruptly left him.  He had fallen back into
another pit of depression and loneliness.

Then Abby.  Ugh.  What a disaster that had been.  She had more or less
used him to make herself feel important.  She had tried to fix him
herself, isolating him from everyone who might have been more helpful.
 She had taken advantage of his vulnerability and, now that he was
able to think about it more clearly, had used the death of the mugger
against him as a kind of emotional blackmail.  She had guilted him
into sleeping with her for *seven* damned months.  She had ignored his
emotional problems, paid no heed to his signals that he was in
distress, and after his 'recovery', had belittled him, yelled at him
(which did *not* turn him on at all) and basically treated him like
dirt.  The final straw had been when she'd snapped at him for kindly
depositing her med-school application at the Registrar's office.  If
she hadn't wanted to turn the damned thing in, why had she filled it
out and then set it out in full view?  That had been it for Luka.  He
had gone back to his hotel room that night, got all of Abby's things,
put them in a box, and presented them to her that night.  "So long.
Have a happy life," was all he'd said.  She had looked bewildered and
then had started yelling, but that had only made him more indifferent
to her.  He barely thought of Abby as a friend any more.  In fact, he
never spoke to her.  He felt sorry for her, most of the time.  He had
tried.  But it hadn't worked and now that he was away from her he was
amazed at how much better he felt about things.  He had forgiven her,
anyway.  But it'd be a long time before he'd waste his time talking to
her.

And now, here was Alexandra.  Sweet, funny, scatter-brained, cheerful,
sexy Alexandra.  Who couldn't remember where she'd left her shoes.
She made him feel alive.  She made him feel loved and needed, instead
of just an appendage.  She didn't put up with his bad habits, she
argued with him, she laughed with him...and now, she was carrying his
babies.  He loved her.  It was that simple.  It wasn't the same kind
of love he'd had for Danijela.  But it was just as strong, just as
exciting and passionate.  He had sort of given up hope of finding
someone again, and then she'd come into his life like a whirlwind,
turning everything upside down.  A physical attraction had grown into
very deep 'like', then had developed easily into love.  The babies had
only made the bond stronger.

Only another month.  One more month and she'd be his wife. 

One more month.

"Mmmm...Luka, you're awake?"

"Yeah."

"What're you doing?"  She rolled over and looked up at him.  Her
fingertips traced his jawline, and she smiled at him.  It was getting
light outside, and Luka could tell it was snowing.

"Watching you."

"Why?"

"Because you take my breath away."

She blushed and giggled.  "Not good for your lungs, baby."

"I love you."

He saw tears in her eyes, and kissed them away.  Alexandra hugged him.
 "I love you.  This is good, isn't it?"

"It's very good."

"You're such a wonderful man."

"I'm not much," he shrugged.

"Now, now," she chastised.  "That makes it sound like I'm not good at
choosing...that I have bad taste.  I think I made an excellent
choice."

"I'm sorry," he shrugged.  "Call it low self-esteem on my part.  It's
no reflection on you."

She sighed and kissed him.  "Good.  We'll just have to work on your
self-esteem, won't we?"

"Yeah, I guess," he smiled.  "What about you?  Is there anything we
should work on with regard to you?"

"Bad memory, for starters," she laughed.

"That's my favorite thing about you!" he protested.  "It makes me feel
so heroic when I can find your shoes after you've lost them."

"Well, anything to make my man feel heroic!"



22 January 2002

11:48AM  Am running late for work.  Putting on Josephine-style dress,
and Luka standing behind me, hands on my belly, muttering in Croatian
to the twins.  "Are we gonna find out what the sexes are?" he asked.

"I think we should.  With two babies, it'd be a terrible thing to buy
everything in pink and then end up with boys."

"Yeah."

"Have you thought more about what to name them?" I ask him. 

"Boris and Natasha for a boy and a girl.  Boris and Mikhail for two
boys.  Natasha and Nastassia for two girls."

"Very funny."

"Okay...uh...I don't know, beba.  We've got five more months to think
about it."

"Mmm...I'm hungry.  What's for breakfast?"

"A Kovac Quickie?"

"Luka Kovac!"

"That's me."

"Horny devil."

We enjoy a nice quickie anyway, then rush into the kitchen for a
breakfast of toast and jelly, milk and orange juice.  Luka insists I
eat extra toast, then asks me how I'm feeling.  Am I checking blood
pressure, am I eating three square meals a day, am I following doctors
orders re: diet and such things?  Yes, yes, yes.  I feel wonderful.
And since I finally had sex last night-and this morning-for the first
time in a month, I feel particularly good.  Since this is a diary, I
can be quite frank: had several orgasms last night, and each one made
the babies do a little dance.  Sort of like 'Ooo, Mommy's happy!'.
And boy, was I.  I think Luka was pretty happy with what I did to
*him*, too.

"You ready to go?" he yelled from the living room.  He's pacing
around, putting his tie on, searching for his shoes.

"Don't tell me *you* lost your shoes!" I gasp in astonishment.

"Look in the 'fridge, will you?" he grumbled. 

"Cold feet already?" I laugh, tossing him his loafers. 

"C'mere and I'll show you how 'cold' I am, beba." 

Such a great kisser.  We help each other with our coats, and he
insists on me bundling up in his big woolly gloves and a toque, which
makes me look like a fat, waddling bank robber.  "Cover your
ears...the wind is blowing out there.  And when we get to the
hospital, I want you to sit down and rest a few minutes before you
start your shift."

"Oh, come on..."  V. sweet of him to be flapping around me so much,
though.

"No arguing.  You didn't get to sleep much last night, remember?" 

He has that smug look on his face, rather like a lion that has
successfully impregnated every lioness in his pride (expect him to
throw his head back and give an arrogant roar any minute now), but I
suppose he has every reason to look smug.  Mum and Dad describe it as
'Love Magic', and indeed it is.  I have found Love Magic for the first
time in my life.  Can't believe it really happened to me.  "Oh, all
right.  I'll rest.  I'll be a good little girl."

"Well," he grins as he pushes the elevator button.  "Not *too* good, I
hope.  We'll take our break together this evening and you can be a bad
girl for a few minutes, eh?"

"Scoundrel!"

What a great way to start the day.

To be continued...