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Post by Ali (lubylover912) on Feb 2, 2007 10:19:36 GMT 10
omg maggie i love this story please update soon prefreably now!
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Post by *Natalie* on Feb 3, 2007 9:07:01 GMT 10
Perfect. Just perfect Loving the updates natalie x
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Post by Little Amy on Feb 3, 2007 13:17:36 GMT 10
just watched 13x14(slow download ) and now this... I don't think I'm feeling very well...
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Post by luby2534 on Feb 4, 2007 19:37:27 GMT 10
Maggie..please we need an update !!
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Post by maggie on Feb 4, 2007 21:05:51 GMT 10
I know, I know, trust me, I wish I could be working on an update right now, but it's 3am and I still have 25 pages of reading for my Law class, a pile of French, and three chapters for English...I promise I'll try to get to it, I'm bored with all this work. The reason it's so slow is because it's the first week of my new semester, and I don't want to rush the fic. I'm really trying for quality rather than quantity, and it also takes time because I have a beta reader now who needs to look things over, make suggestions, etc...and then I revise and post. Thus the long delays. I promise I'll make it up to you all, go scamper off and read the one-shot I put up...
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Post by Caffy on Feb 5, 2007 6:55:18 GMT 10
Aha, I would complain. But I hardly ever update my fic, so. I'm not. Good luck getting your work done. I'll do an updatey on mine now. Because for some wierd reason you seem to like mine. BY THE WAY. If this fic keeps on the same paath. It looks to me like it may be even more amazingly awesome than your earlier fics... Hmm... Yeah. Or just as good. I'm rambling AGAIN. So yeah, take your time looooovely
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Post by maggie on Feb 5, 2007 18:07:43 GMT 10
Chapter Nine: Midnight
A/N – There’s a bit of Yiddish in here. “Putz” is an insult that roughly translated, means “Jerk”. “Groisser gornisht! Gai kaken oifen yam!” Translates to “Big good for nothing! Get lost!”
Midnight. It was a strange sort of limbo, caught between one day and the other, between beginnings and endings, between sleep and waking. The brooding eyes searched the room for something, anything, to distract him from the uncertainty that had characterized the past days. A gleaming amber liquid winked at him from its glass decanter and he moved instinctively towards it. He raised it, hesitated, raised it again, this time to eye level. The surrounding scene was distorted through the bottle, its contents stinging his senses with the distinct scent. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a long, arduous sigh as the item was returned from whence it came.
He knew she’d be awake, despite the strict orders for rest. Stubborn, obstinate, and nocturnal. The whining ring only sounded once before her voice filled his ear. “Home for the questionably deranged. Nurse Ratchet speaking. How may I direct your call?”
The image of her last Halloween costume flickered through his mind with genuinely indecent intention. “I’m looking for a consult. I think I might be off my rocking.”
“Rocker.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” Her voice changed to a softer, more deliberate congeniality. “What can I do for you?”
He briefly considered the prospects. “Not much. I couldn’t sleep and you’re the only one I knew would be awake.” It dawned on him at that moment that he could have easily called Croatia at that hour, yet somehow she had been the first, the only, thought. Her voice on the other end of the line was far more welcome than another inquisition from his father, who had become increasingly impatient for him to settle down. If only it were that easy. “You want to have pancakes?”
“Excuse me?” His offer was both unexpected and confusing. Perhaps he was a bit off his rocker.
A grin slid over his face. “I know a place that’s open all night. I’ve always wanted to have pancakes in the middle of the night, but no one is ever awake. It’s too sad to go alone.”
The notion was intriguing. “Pancakes at midnight. That would be a first for me, too.”
“May I take your pancake virginity?” His flirting was incorrigible...and intentional. He’d put aside a bottle of liquid oblivion for her. Indecency was his reward.
Her laughter was soft, twinkling. “I’d be honored. Pick me up?”
“Wouldn’t dream of letting you wander alone in the dark. Some poor soul might meet you in a dark alley.” Truly incorrigible.
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He was surprised to find her on the front steps when he arrived, lost in a cloud of cigarette smoke. “Isn’t it a little dangerous to be hanging around on the street in the middle of the night?” He lowered himself onto the cement step beside her.
“I’m not on the street. I’m on the porch.” A stream of whitish smoke curled through her lips. “Besides...people around here know better than to mess with me.”
Luka’s eyebrows arched. “Oh?”
“They saw Brian.”
So she’d known all along. He had halfway hoped as much, a little credit to his name for defending her, even if it hadn’t been in the most noble of ways. Still, he reddened at the acknowledgment. “I see.”
She rose from the steps and dropped the cigarette to the pavement, stubbing it out with her toe. “Come on. I have a craving for some decent food.”
“Who said anything about decent?” He grinned playfully. “I just said it was open.”
The banter continued for the few blocks to the diner. Luka held open the door to the dismal, fluorescent interior as she tentatively stepped in, an uncertain look on her face. “Am I going to get some rare bacterial disease from this place?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible.” They seated themselves at the least unpleasant looking table. Luka used a few napkins to wipe the table off and took a plastic menu from the rack on the table. She watched with dismay as he flipped the sticky pages with more earnest than the selection deserved. He caught her watching, a look of mixed fear and disgust creeping over her countenance. “Something wrong?”
“I’m just a little put off by the fact that every visible surface is filthy.” She cleared her throat. “You seriously like this place?”
He nodded. “I have breakfast here a lot. It’s not as bad as it seems.” He glanced up at her distrusting expression. “Really. The food isn’t bad at all, and the coffee’s all right. Better than Ike’s.”
She relented. “If you say so.”
An older woman, probably in her sixties, approached. “Dr. Kovac. I see you have brought us another mouth to feed. She is better than last one, no?” Her accent was thick, but friendly. Polish, perhaps, or Ukrainian.
Luka cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Yes, much better.” He avoided eye contact with Abby, who looked on with an amused smile. “Besides, they never liked this place. Something about salmonella.”
The woman swatted his arm with a notepad. “Stop with that. You scare away my customers.”
“What customers?” Luka gestured to the empty room. “I’m the only one brave enough to eat your poison, Ada.”
The woman made a spitting gesture to the side. “Putz. You want food, or should I have you thrown out again?”
Luka laughed. “We’ll both have pancakes. And bring her a vat of coffee, would you? No spit.” He winked at Abby.
Ada made a waving gesture and retreated towards the kitchen doors. “I only spit in your food, groisser gornisht! Gai kaken oifen yam!” She gave a little snort before disappearing behind the swinging doors.
“What was that all about?” Abby rested her chin on her hand.
He shrugged. “Who knows? Half the time she curses me in Ukrainian, half the time Yiddish. I don’t bother to learn anymore.” His grey eyes twinkled. “She’s a nice old bat. She likes you.”
She let out a little laugh. “How could you tell?”
“She promised not to spit in your food.” She looked at him, aware for the first time of the ease that was evident in their relationship. She’d missed it terribly, the friendship, over the course of her relationship with Carter. If it even was a relationship...more like a catastrophe. The attraction to him that had been forming over the past weeks was disconcerting, frightening. She didn’t want to lose him again. As if aware of her internal conflict, he reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder. She came out of her daze with a small smile, which he returned with interest. “Everything okay?”
A nod. “Yeah.” She sighed, and stretched her arms over her head. The repetition was more genuine. “Yeah.”
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Post by Maryna on Feb 5, 2007 18:30:51 GMT 10
great update! it was also very funny!
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Post by ERFanRach on Feb 6, 2007 3:43:44 GMT 10
Great Update!!!!
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Post by luby2534 on Feb 6, 2007 5:15:50 GMT 10
Loved the update Maggie !!
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Post by Real Dream on Feb 6, 2007 6:30:18 GMT 10
sweet Loved this update, as usual It's so frustrating, we should create other words to describe your talent
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Post by *Natalie* on Feb 6, 2007 7:01:15 GMT 10
Great update Hope the attraction keeps coming natalie x
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Post by hollygirl on Feb 6, 2007 7:08:19 GMT 10
words can not describe, how much I love this fic, and how amazing you are at writing.. your updates are always worth the wait!!
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Post by Little Amy on Feb 6, 2007 9:08:06 GMT 10
awesome update! loved how you brought up the brian subject... really wish you were in TPTB writing team
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Post by maggie on Feb 7, 2007 20:19:15 GMT 10
Chapter Ten: You
Lines creased her forehead as she frowned, hands splayed palms-down on the admit desk. “Look, I’ll get my labs done after my shift. Just put me back on the schedule.”
Romano rolled his eyes and used his good hand to scrawl her name on the board. “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn about your labs, so long as you don’t cause me a lawsuit. Weaver may like her employees healthy, but this is my ER, and I like my employees cheap, efficient, and out of my way.” He rifled through a stack of charts. “Tell you what, Nurse Barbie, why don’t you start off easy. There’s a fantastic code brown with your name on it in exam three.” He tossed a box of latex gloves at her with a sneer.
“Gee, thanks.” She waited until he’d turned his back and made a rude gesture in his direction before slamming the box back on the counter with unnecessary force. Romano never failed to make her job as unpleasant as possible.
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It was dusk by the time she escaped to the lounge to collect her things. Her pulse quickened slightly at the sight of Luka, back to her, sliding a scrub top off. She watched out of the corner of her eye, thoughts of running her hands over his torso, his bronzed skin, tousling the thick, downy soft black hair that was left in a state of endearing disarray as he tossed aside the green top that so pleasantly complimented his eyes. She blushed as he turned around and quickly cast her eyes down as if inspecting her shoes.
“Hey. How was the first day back?” He took a white tee shirt from his locker and unfolded it, leaving his toned stomach extremely visible as she looked up at him.
Her eyes were drawn to the sculpted physique on display. “Uh…fine. Not bad.” She cleared her throat, flustered, and turned to take her bag from her locker.
The shirt hid his body once again, much to her relief. “It’s snowing out.” His comment hung in the air for a moment as he pulled a sweater over his head, and then the hidden agenda. “I was thinking of taking a walk through the park. Care to join me?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Yeah. Sure.” She cursed her lack of evident enthusiasm, but it was a fine line she was walking. “That would be nice.” Despite herself, she moved towards him and reached up to smooth his hair down. “Sorry. It was messy.” Her hand lingered a moment longer than it should have.
“Don’t be sorry.” He loved the feeling of her fingers raking though his hair. He had an overwhelming desire to kiss her hand, but fought it. Not here. Not now. He waited for her to gather her things into her bag and pull on her jacket. Without asking, he took the small duffel from her shoulder and hung it on his. She moved to object, but he shushed her. “Let me have my pride.”
She laughed softly. “Fine. Thank you.”
His hand rested on the small of her back as they headed towards the doors together, oblivious to the knowing looks of their coworkers. The snow fell lightly as they made their way though the ambulance bay and ambled, unhurried, towards the park. Snowflakes dusted her hair, providing him every so often with an excuse to brush a gloved hand over her head. The gap between them narrowed unconsciously, slowly, until her shoulder barely touched his chest, his hand drifting instinctively to rest on her back again. They appeared as any couple would, comfortable, content, in love. Was it love? The thought had crossed both minds recently with differing degrees of certainty. He knew. A few weeks ago, he’d felt something, but it was blatantly clear to him by now that it was a very specific something, and he’d felt it in this intensity only once before, many years ago, when he first met Danijela. Prospects, hope, desire for more, all tied into this new and thrilling place they’d found themselves. He’d loved her before, but there was a quality now that was distinct. This time it was with his whole self, without reservation.
Her reservations clouded the issue. It had nothing to do with whether she loved him, deep in her heart she knew without a doubt she did. It was the possibility of losing him again, of being hurt. And a deep-seeded knowledge that this was it. They wouldn’t survive another disaster and come out friends, as they’d been able to before. The balance between losing him altogether and her ever-intensifying feelings for him was devastating, even moreso as the thing in the back of her mind – the certainty that their friendship wouldn’t survive if they continued like this – nagged at her.
The partially frozen river came into view, and Luka took her hand without thinking, pulling her towards the snowy bank. A surge of electricity moved up her arm, across her body, sending a shiver through her body. He felt it, and turned. “Cold?”
She nodded. “Kind of, but it’s nice out here. I’ll be fine.”
Wordlessly, he pulled her close, rubbing his gloved hands up and down her arms and back. The feeling of one another so close was mutually terrifying. Both pulses quickened, and he fumbled for words. “Any better?” He was surprised to have formed a coherent question.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” He caught the double entendre, the Freudian slip, but didn’t take it back.
The snow swirling around, the cold air reddening their cheeks, the proximity to one another, the days and weeks of increasingly shameless flirting…the question finally slipped out of her mouth. “What are we doing, Luka?”
He looked at her, brown eyes filled with confusion and desperation for an answer. “I don’t know.”
“Luka.” She pleaded with him.
“What do you want to be doing?” His voice was soft, gentle, afraid to push her, but she needed him to define it for her, to make the first move.
She hugged her arms around herself, half for warmth, half out of fear. “What do you want?”
He watched the snowflakes swirl downward, landing on her eyelashes, her nose, her cheeks. All the life, all the vibrancy that had disappeared from her face had returned, the sparkling light in her eyes once again apparent, the beautiful, spectacular woman he’d missed desperately suddenly in front of him, offering a second chance. He let his hand rest behind her head as he moved closer, touching his lips to hers in a kiss that made her legs give out under her, letting him support her. She remembered...how he would barely make contact at first, simply graze her mouth as their breaths intermingled, and then the space would close and she’d become oblivious to the outside world. His hand traveled across her cheek and slid under her chin, pulling her into the kiss. He poured the word into her mouth.
“You.”
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