"It's come as you aren't night. The perfect chance for a girl to get sexy and wild with no repercussions." --Buffy, "Halloween"
"Children of the night, shut up!" --Count Dracula, "Love at First
Bite"
Kerry snorted and shook her head as the feather tickled her around her nose, then futilely tried to bat it away from herself.
"C'mon, Kerry... open your pretty green eyes. Gooood morning, time to get up, beba. Ps, ps ps... wake up, please. C'mon, breakfast is waiting for you downstairs." She grunted irritably as he cooed into her ear; his breath warm against the side of her head and his accent the only thing keeping her from turning over and smacking him. She'd been working on a report most of the night, and hadn't had much sleep... though she knew perfectly well that wasn't an excuse (she certainly wouldn't accept that as an excuse from one of her residents!). Still, she could use a little more sleep.
"G'way. Le'me sleep." She heard him laugh softly.
"You're the one who insisted on staying up so late, last night." She cracked her eyes open just enough to glare at him - she'd heard enough of the staff who were parents to know that he was using a Daddy voice on her. She wondered if he'd used that tone much with Marko and Jasna, or if it was just something that came instinctively to a person once he or she became a parent. It was certainly galling - not to mention a little weird - to be getting that Daddy tone of voice from her lover.
"Nex' time have torr'd 'ffair wi' bach'l'r," she mumbled. "Stop 't." He'd begun drawing little circles on her face with the tip of the feather, now. She wondered why it was that that feather had been used exactly twice... weren't feathers supposed to be used as some kind of erotic supplement in the bedroom, rather than as an alarm clock? Or maybe it was that saying, that "feathers are erotic, kinky is using the whole chicken"... hm.
"C'mon. Get up. Now." He abruptly yanked the covers off her, having apparently tired of playing around, and scooped her up, ignoring her struggles and sleepy protests... though he did take the opportunity to kiss her while she was in his arms, enjoying the feel of her nude body as she squirmed slightly and snuggled into him. She felt small and sleepy and warm in his arms, and he really wanted to get back into bed with her-- no, Luka, he reminded himself, that wasn't what you meant when you said "get up"! He copped an extra feel, though, before he set her on her feet and handed her crutch to her. She got her robe and snuggled into it, then followed him downstairs, still grumbling slightly.
* * *
"So you're actually going to wear that today." She indicated what he had on, and he looked down at himself: a pale denim shirt, a black vest, black jeans, and a black Stetson hat that he'd set down on the table while he drank his coffee and she worked on a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, with a glass of tomato juice that he'd lovingly prepared from tomato paste.
"I won't be wearing the hat most of the day, I think, but yes. Is there a problem?" He leaned forward, and grinned wolfishly at her. "Maybe you could dress up as a cute little cowgirl... put your hair into little pigtails, wear a gingham frock with--" She scooched forward in her seat a little, and kicked him; he laughed. He enjoyed provoking her, sometimes.
"Don't make me regret lifting the ban on costumes." This year, a happy medium (or at least an uneasy truce) had been reached on costumes: staff were requested to limit their Halloween attire to garments that would allow the wearer to perform all normal, everyday duties, without obstruction. Kerry had unearthed and dusted off the devil's horns headband that she'd clapped onto her head at the end of her Halloween shift two years ago, shortly before she'd gone home and taken a running leap into some truly fine bourbon, because of the disappointment of being screwed out of the Chief's job once again, but Luka hadn't seen the horns yet.
"So it's not enough for you, that I promised not to wear That Tie?" 'That Tie' was a garish, almost fluorescent, obscenely orange tie that somebody had given him for his birthday, as a joke. The black balloons stuck all over the door of his locker (he still couldn't believe that forty black balloons had actually fit on the metal panel!) had also been intended as a joke. "Oh. Very. Funny," had been his response to it... the culprit still hadn't confessed, but he had his suspicions.
"I wish you'd just burn that thing - it's ugly!" He shrugged.
"Of course it is. When I was in med school, one of my professors said that it was absolutely necessary for a doctor to have at least one ugly tie."
"He did not! Anyway, what about the doctor's sport of golfing? There's golfing in Croatia, right?"
"Mm. Of course there is. I think somebody there was recently trying to buy up land that had been 'mined, and develop it as a golf course with extraordinary hazards." She kicked him again. "Finish your breakfast, Kerry."
"Yeah, yeah. Why are you up so early?"
"I made a very early shopping trip, to get some candy. Halloween? Trick or treat?" Kerry frowned, and Luka wondered if maybe she just didn't observe the holiday at all. He knew there were people who didn't get into the candy-begging spirit of the day, for whatever reason - whether out of abhorrence of the "supernatural" aspects of the night or just not wanting to contribute to the future diabetes and dental cases among today's youth - and it was okay with him (if a little surprising) if she was one of them.
"I didn't show you where I keep it?"
"Keep what?"
"I guess I didn't. I have to hide it even from myself," she told him, as she got up and fished in a drawer of the desk... finally bringing out a key. "Otherwise I tend to get into it and eat it myself." He groaned.
"Tell me it's not candy you bought on sale after Easter or, worse yet, after last year's Halloween!"
"Please. I bought it a few weeks ago, and stashed it downstairs."
"And you need a key to get to it?"
"It's down in the basement apartment John used to rent from me." She hesitantly approached the stairs, mentally preparing herself for navigating the trip down, and Luka suddenly picked her up (he'd figured out, since January, the fine art of picking her up without getting clobbered by her crutch in the process). "Oh!" She snuggled into his arms, and rested her head on his shoulder as he walked down the stairs. The hem of her robe caught briefly on a shelf on the wall, and he backed up slightly to free it. Finally they reached the bottom, and he set her down so she could unlock the door.
They walked through the doorway; Kerry headed straight for a cabinet on the far side of the room, and Luka walked around, just checking the place out. He'd known all along that Kerry's house had a basement, of course, but had never been down here before. Not that he'd been worried that he'd find a secret dungeon down here, or the remains of Kerry's mummified mother, he just didn't like basements. No surprise, he supposed - no roofs, no basements, that was his general preference. He sometimes had to go up to the roof of the hospital, of course, to collect patients being brought in by Medevac (or even to go out on flight duty), and down to the basement once in a while to drop off broken equipment, but he approached those expeditions with the same resignation as going to the dentist: a necessary evil.
"So this is where Carter lived for a year - nearly a year?" He glanced at the windows, and tried not to shudder. Okay... okay... find something to distract yourself, he ordered himself - he really didn't want to have a panic attack in front of Kerry. "Nice bed," he commented, and flopped backwards onto it. He bounced once or twice, then sat up and looked up at Kerry, who was pulling a box out of the cabinet. "I said, nice bed."
"I heard you. Help me get this upstairs, please? We can come back down here later this evening, after the trick or treaters have all gone away. Or maybe a quickie right after we get home?"
"No. With you, never a quickie. Always a longie," he said, shamelessly quoting George Hamilton's version of Dracula. That earned him a puzzled frown from Kerry, so he shrugged and stood up, then knelt next to the box, slightly shocked by the contents - even after nearly ten months of being with Kerry, he was still, for some reason, surprised that she didn't have boxes of raisins, or little toothbrushes, in there. "How much candy did you buy?" he asked.
"Enough. The kids in the area have figured out that I give out good candy, so I generally get a lot of kids coming by. I think sometimes I even get trick or treaters from other parts of town."
"And nobody ever comes by for a second try?"
"Of course they do. But they usually have the courtesy to change their costume first - it's a game they play with me: I pretend not to notice, pretend that I'm seeing them for the first time that night... they know perfectly well I recognize 'em, but we all have fun pretending. And of course, anything that's left over... I eat."
"Ah. So that's the real reason you get that kind of candy - to give yourself an excuse to 'finish off the leftovers'." She nodded, and watched as Luka scooped up the box and hefted it onto his shoulder, in preparation for going upstairs.
"Pretty much, yeah."
* * *
Their shift started at the same time, so it didn't look too odd for them to be walking in together. Nevertheless, the nurses still smirked when they saw the two of them deep in conversation. It wasn't the way he opened and held the door for her, or the way she turned and smiled at him as she thanked him... though that was also observed. "So you still think they'll go public by the end of the week? You're nuts, Chuny." Chuny flashed a grin.
"You kidding, Malik? They're bound to slip up soon, or just get tired of pretending... and then that pool money is mine!" Lydia glanced over at Dr Kovac, who was talking with Dr Greene... who had already expressed a deep satisfaction that he was not going to be on duty today - they'd already had several nuts, including a few turkeys "trick or treating" for drugs, and there was most likely going to be a lot more coming through the doors before the day was over.
"So how long do you think they've been at it?"
"Well," Malik mused, "he was dating Carol before, so I guess they got together during the summer." Lydia snorted.
"No way. Valentine's Day, at the latest."
"Maybe it was all the way back in November," Chuny suggested. "You know... around the time she hired him? That was kinda out of the blue, don't you think?"
"He's a good doctor!" Lydia protested.
"Of course he is. But he suddenly goes from temp to permanent attending, after one shift? After the way she'd fired him about a month or so before? I dunno. There's something fishy there."
Malik glanced over at Dr Kovac again, who suddenly flashed him a fanged grin. "What the...? Did you guys see that? With the fangs?" Lydia and Chuny had turned away just before Dr Kovac smiled at him, and by the time they turned back around, Dr Kovac was heading for the lounge. "But he-- you guys didn't-- but I saw--" Chuny smirked at him.
"Hey, I think the lady in Exam 4 might be a vampire, too, Malik. How 'bout you take her?" Malik groaned - he had a feeling that it was going to be a while before he heard the last of this.
* * *
Luka strolled into the lounge, where Kerry was putting on her labcoat. She saw the gleam in his eyes, and sighed. "What have you done?"
"Done? Why should I have 'done' anything?"
"Because you get that look in your eyes when you've committed some act of deviltry or mayhem." He sighed, and fished the plastic fangs from his pocket, where he'd palmed them after smiling at Malik, and held them up for a moment. "Are you tormenting the nurses, Luka?"
"Who, me?" She gave him the Stare of Death, and he relented. "Okay. I--" he slipped the fangs into his mouth long enough to grin at her, then removed them again. "I waited until only Malik was looking at me, and smiled at him."
"Why'd you do that?" As if I didn't know, Kerry thought. Even she had heard about Malik's theory that Luka was some kind of vampire, living in a cemetery. Luka still had his PO box, though... the gang mailbox at his old apartment hadn't been very secure, and the thought of changing his address to her house had, apparently, not even occurred to him. Not that he could have changed it in the hospital records, without their relationship becoming a matter of public record, but it might have been nice if he'd at least expressed an interest. Now there was twisted logic, she decided... she didn't want him to do it, but she was hurt because he hadn't wanted to do it. Sometimes, Kerry, she thought, you are so full of it.
"Just messing with his mind," he assured her. "Yours is still the only neck I want to bite." She swatted him as he traded his pea jacket for his labcoat, and he laughed.
* * *
Kerry glared at Luka as Carter came in; he was wearing That Tie. Great... she could have happily gone the rest of her life without ever seeing it again. "You didn't say anything about Carter," he reminded her quietly, and she sighed.
"You should've been a lawyer, Luka."
"Hmph. There's no need to be insulting, you know," he told her with mock-wounded dignity. He knew perfectly well that being a lawyer wasn't a bad thing... Nik was a lawyer, as was Herb (when he wasn't playing with his sideline of used cars, that is), but he was having fun giving Kerry a bad time. "Hey, Carter," he hailed the young man. "I'd heard you and Abby were supposed to wear matching costumes. What happened?" Abby had already been downstairs, in her "Raggedy Abby" costume, and Luka had been looking forward to seeing Carter with rouged cheeks and a little sailor suit.
"Uh... I changed my mind, and decided to go for something a little more unobtrusive." Carter flipped the tie as he spoke, and Kerry smirked.
"Yes, I can see how a tie that could be used for guiding airplanes in foggy weather would be less obtrusive than a Raggedy Andy costume." Carter headed to the lounge, and Kerry watched him go. "God... with any luck, somebody'll puke on that thing."
"Who'd notice?" Luka couldn't resist retorting.
* * *
"Cleo, take the foreign body in nose, in Exam 3. Carter... there's a GSW waiting for you in 1. Chen, there's an assault victim in 6. And Malucci... there's an attempted suicide coming in - Trauma 1 is open. I've got the abdominal pain in 2 - Chuny, you're with me. C'mon! Let's go."
* * *
Luka carefully extracted the bundev-- pumpkin seed from the child's nose; Cleo had asked him for help when the child wouldn't stop crying and screaming long enough for her to do the job. He knew he wasn't the only one who wondered why she'd decided to specialize in pediatrics - Cleo did very well with older pedes patients, but frequently seemed to be at a loss when it came to their younger customers; he, on the other hand, seemed so natural with very young children that he was often mistaken for the pediatrician. It hurt deeply, being around children so much of the time, and yet it was also a little therapeutic... the same kind of painful pleasure he got from talking about Danijela and Jasna and Marko.
Little Stevie had been fascinated by the big "cowboy" who'd entered the room - Luka had removed his labcoat and put on his hat before going in - and had sat as still as he could, as Luka cautiously examined the inside of the boy's nose, and gently joked with the little boy as his mother watched anxiously. He still couldn't understand how the child had managed to fit such a large seed through such a small opening, but there it was. Incredible.
Lydia suctioned out the little bit of discharge, and Luka put a little solution into the boy's nose to shrink and numb the tissues a little, before he used the very smallest set of bayonet forceps to very carefully reach in and snag the seed. "Now if we can't do it this way, Stevie, I'll have to put a special kind of balloon in your nose, and pull the seed out that way." Stevie didn't look very happy with that prospect... Luka could sympathize. He finally got a good hold on the seed and slowly withdrew it from Stevie's nose, dropping it into the dish and setting the forceps aside. "There! All done. And you are never going to put anything in your nose ever again, right?"
"Yes, sir." He ruffled the boy's hair.
"That's good! All right, Mrs Chang. He should be all right for trick or treating tonight."
"Great! Thank you so much, doctor." He peeled off the used gloves, and looked up again to see the Look Mrs Chang was giving him... oh, no. "If you don't have plans later, perhaps you could come over tonight and, uh, help decorate the jack-o-lantern." Somehow Luka doubted that she was talking about a carved pumpkin, at this point.
"Oh. I'm sorry, Mrs Chang. I promised my wife I'd help her." The lie - which really wasn't that much of a lie, after all - slipped out of him much more easily than the seed had come out of Stevie's nose, and Mrs Chang's face fell.
"Oh. Okay. Well, never mind. Come along, Stevie." They left, and Lydia raised an eyebrow and smirked at Luka.
"'Wife'? Is there something you're not telling us, Dr Kovac?" He blushed.
"It was the first thing that came out."
"Uh-huh." Lydia was down for Dr Weaver and Dr Kovac to go public the week of Thanksgiving, but she was starting to wonder if Chuny might be right - that those two would slip up much sooner than that.
* * *
The name on the chart, Morris, looked vaguely familiar, but it wasn't until Kerry walked into Exam 2, accompanied by Chuny, that she realized why the name looked so familiar: the last time she'd seen him had been in February, when he'd come in with a possible ankle fracture (fortunately, the x-rays had ultimately shown that his ankle had merely been twisted, although Cleo had had to take over his case), and he'd been dressed a little more outrageously than the hospital gown he had on at the moment. "Oh! You were--"
"Cupid. Yeah. Please don't remind me," he begged her with a morose smile. "I only do that as a sideline." He rubbed at his elbow, where labs had already been drawn.
"Oh. Okay. But how is your ankle feeling?"
"That's feeling much better." Kerry smiled, and looked at the chart.
"That's good. Now... according to your chart, you've been experiencing gnawing pain in your gut? About an hour or so after you eat?"
"Right. What do you think is wrong?"
"Let's have a look. Lie back, please..." She gently palpated his abdomen, and noted when he winced. "Based on the symptoms you reported, and my initial exam, my diagnosis would be an ulcer, where the mucus lining of the stomach has eroded. An endoscopy would be necessary to confirm that diagnosis absolutely, but it's very invasive and not much fun - an upper GI barium test may be all that's needed, to detect an ulcer. Chuny, would you call Radiology, and find out when they can fit Mr Morris in?"
"Sure thing!" The young woman walked over to the phone, and dialed the extension for Radiology; after speaking with the tech, she hung up. "They can take him in about fifteen minutes."
"Terrific." They got Mr Morris loaded into the wheelchair, to take him to Radiology for the upper GI, and he suddenly turned to look at Kerry.
"Oh! Dr Weaver... there's one more thing. There was a singing Valentine I was supposed to deliver to you, from a secret admirer. I guess in the confusion I forgot, but I did take the guy's money so I owe you a--"
"Oh... uh..." Kerry blushed - she could see that Chuny was watching the scene, looking very interested - and wished for the floor to swallow her up. "That can wait until after Radiology, can't it?"
"Go ahead, Mr Morris," Chuny urged him. She was enjoying seeing Dr Weaver so flustered, and she was pretty sure she knew who that "secret admirer" was. "In fact, maybe we should go out by the main desk, so everyone can se--"
"Chuny," Kerry gritted out, "Radiology will be waiting on Mr Morris. You should probably get him there as soon as possible!" Chuny shrugged.
"Okay, Dr Weaver. I'll bring him back after he's done, then, and he can serenade you by the admit desk!"
"But--" But Chuny and Mr Morris had already gone out the door, and Kerry started wondering if there was someplace she could hide for the next few hours.
* * *
Carter entered Exam 1 with Malik in tow. He glanced around, and finally saw the patient - who looked remarkably healthy for someone who'd been shot (althought the chart was just a little vague about that detail) - standing by the window. "Okay, Mr Francis, if you could have a seat, we can begin." Mr Francis, who bore an amazing resemblance to the used-car salesman in "Fargo", turned around and gave Carter a mournful look.
"That's the thing... I can't sit down." Carter stared at him in bemusement. "Got shot in the can, y'see." He pointed to his rear end. "My brother was foolin' around with a .22 - he's an idiot! - and pfft! Here I am."
"Ohhhhkay. Malik, if you could help Mr Francis up onto the exam table, face down, and we'll see what's there." Carter snapped on a pair of gloves, watching as Malik pushed a little stool over to the side of the bed and gave Mr Francis a hand in climbing up and lying on the table. Ah... yes. Sure enough, there it was - a neat little hole in the left buttock. Fortunately, Carter's restriction on administering narcotics had recently been lifted - although somebody (Malik would do, in this case) still had to witness the procedure, from the time that the syringe was loaded, to the time that the syringe went into the sharps container. But, that was a lot better than the restrictions he'd been working under before (which, in turn, had been better than the alternative of not practicing medicine at all). "Mr Francis, I'm going to inject you with something to deaden the pain back there. Do you have any known allergies?"
"I get awful diarrhea from milk, but that's not what you're asking, is it? I can't think of anything else."
"'No known allergies'." That was, in fact, precisely what it said on the chart... but Carter was sometimes a little paranoid about that, after having dealt with the tragic aftermath of Edson's sloppy history-taking. He didn't know Deb's student very well, although he was sure that Jeff was perfectly competent (or at least he would be, after six weeks of Deb's instruction!), he just wanted to be absolutely sure about something that serious. "Malik, I need five of morphine, to numb the area before I check out the wound." Malik drew the requested amount, and Carter tried to ignore the way that the nurse carefully watched him as he injected the stuff into Mr Francis's butt. He handed over the empty syringe, and shifted his full attention back to Mr Francis. "That'll take a little while to numb, and then we'll see what's what."
So they spent the next few minutes talking awkwardly about trivial things - would it snow soon, and did the Cubs have a shot at the pennant next year - and in just a few minutes Mr Francis reported that his fundamental felt like it had gone to sleep. Okay... a little Betadine, to sterilize the area, and... a probe found the small bullet right away; it hadn't gone very far into the gluteus maximus. "Good news, Mr Francis. You won't need surgery to remove the bullet - I can take it out right now." The man raised himself up on his elbows, and turned his head slightly.
"Really? That- that's good, right?"
"Absolutely. Um, Malik, can I also get 250 of ceftriaxone for Mr Francis?"
"Sure thing, Dr Carter." Carter gave Mr Francis the shot of antibiotic.
"This'll reduce the chance of infection from the bullet, and--"
"Can I keep it? The bullet, I mean."
"Well... you know... I'm going to have to report this injury. So I don't think you'll be able to keep it - I'm sure the police will want it for evidence." Mr Francis's face fell.
"Even though I already told you that it was an accident?" Carter sighed.
"Yes, Mr Francis. I still have to report it."
"Oh. Okay, then. I just thought it might make a neat souvenir - I could pull it out and say 'that's the bullet from the time that Matt shot me, how was your day' - but if I can't keep it, I can't keep it, right?"
"Mr Francis," Carter said as he extracted the bullet and dropped it into a dish, "you're going to have to ask the police about that. I can't give you a definite answer. There," he said, as he put a bandage on the wound. "That's probably going to leave a scar, but... you can think of it as your own little souvenir." Mr Francis brightened.
"Yeah! That's right... my own little souvenir, right here on my backside. Thank you very much, Dr Carter."
"Uh... sure thing. You might wanna have 'Matt' look into a gun safety class, though... or better yet, try to talk him out of playing with guns."
"Will do, Dr Carter." Carter shook his head as he left the room, to give Mr Francis a chance to get changed out of the hospital gown (Malik was going to help him with the pants, since sensation back there was going to be a little iffy for the next few hours).
* * *
The young woman lay quietly in the bed in Exam 6, looking out the window... or rather, her head was turned in the direction of the window. Her left eye was swollen shut, and her right eye was filled with tears. She jumped when Jing-Mei laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to startle you, Ms Hoskins. I called your name, but you didn't seem to hear me. Can you tell me how this happened?" Ms Hoskins smiled sadly.
"I fell down the stairs." Jing-Mei and Conni exchanged a dubious glance - these would probably be the two-legged variety of stairs - but Jing-Mei smiled determinedly and began her examination.
She wound up ordering a facial series, to rule out any fractures in the area where Ms Hoskins had been hit-- er, "fallen down the stairs", and added on a c-spine and pelvic. "Pelvic? Why do you want that? It's just my face."
"You fell down the stairs, right?" Jing-Mei held Ms Hoskins' gaze until she looked away.
"Yes, I did," she insisted quietly. Jing-Mei smiled gently.
"I have to make sure nothing else was injured when you fell down those stairs. Unless, of course, you were mistaken about how you got your injuries."
"If I'd been hit, you'd have to report it, right?" Jing-Mei hesitated a long time, but finally answered.
"Yes. I would." Ms Hoskins drew in a long, shuddering breath.
"I fell down the stairs."
* * *
Dave hadn't even thought about a costume this year, even though the Chief was allowing them this time - the last time he'd worn a Halloween costume, things had gotten a little out of hand, and fifteen students had been suspended after the riot had been quelled. But then, Dave supposed he should have known better than to wear a giant penis costume at a college known mostly for its "prestigious" women's studies program (though of course that hadn't been why he'd picked the school!). "Whatta we got?" he asked, looking at the young man on the gurney. Guy looked in really bad shape - he was pale, his eyes were closed and his lips were moving, plus his forearms were both bundled up in white gauze that was already heavily spotted with blood seeping through the dressings.
"Greg Hancock, 19. Took a bunch of pills, according to his roommate, and then tried to cinch the job by opening up his wrists. GCS is 2-2-4, BP is 70/50, pulse 48. Started two midline peripheral IVs, running in a liter of saline."
"Geez. Nothin' like the ol' tried-and-true methods, huh? We got an ID on what he took?" There was a young man hovering nervously nearby - he rattled off several names, as he handed Haleh a baggie that contained the prescription vials. Dave hmmed, then ordered flumazenil to counteract the Valium, and a gastric lavage and activated charcoal treatment to deal with the rest. The drugs were his immediate concern - Greg's wrists seemed to have stopped bleeding, now that they were all wrapped up, although they'd start bleeding again once the dressings were removed - and hopefully the course of treatment he'd ordered would deal with that.
He wondered what on earth could have caused a healthy-looking kid to want to off himself... but of course there were lots of reasons for a healthy-looking kid to want to kill himself. Not necessarily good reasons, to an objective observer, but people weren't always objective enough to recognize that it wasn't a good reason. "Haleh, could you call down a psych consult?" He tried to make the request as quietly as he could... Greg's roommate, Mike, was still in the room. Mike had refused to leave Greg, so Dave had found a spot in the room where he wouldn't be in the way.
"Of course." Haleh was a little surprised by Dr Malucci's serious, considerate manner with this case; aside from the crack about the methods Hancock had used, he'd been smooth and professional in dealing with both the patient and his roommate.
* * *
Neither Luka nor Kerry cooked that evening... each of them stopped on the way home, and got some Chinese takeout. Between the two of them, they got a little of everything... an assortment of marinated and steamed meat, steamed vegetables, fried rice, several different appetizers and side dishes (including the all-important eggrolls, pot stickers and butterfly shrimp). And, of course, they each got a fortune cookie. Kerry rapped Luka's hand with her chopsticks when he reached for his cookie before he'd actually eaten any of his dinner. "The fortune doesn't come true unless you save it for last." He glanced at her skeptically, but set the cookie aside.
"Sounds like something your parents told you."
"No... that's what I was told once in a restaurant. Now eat your chicken and peapods." They hadn't bothered with plates, electing instead to eat straight from the cartons... occasionally stealing bites from each other's dinners; Luka was still leaving the pork strictly alone, though. Soon, most of the cartons were empty, and the two of them cleared the table... throwing away the empties and putting the leftovers in the fridge for later.
They broke open their cookies... Kerry's fortune was "There is great temptation in store for you, in the near future. Resist at all costs." and Luka's was "Life is too short for grief. Or regret. Or bullshit." He raised an eyebrow at the tone of his... he'd never heard of a fortune cookie that invoked cow excrement, but there it was. "By the way," Kerry told him, "'Cupid' was in today with an ulcer. He wouldn't leave until he'd delivered a singing Valentine from a 'secret admirer'... I got serenaded in front of three nurses and two med students with 'You Are the Sunshine of My Life'!" Luka tried very hard not to laugh.
"Oh. I'd forgotten that I'd hired him to do that - there's something about two coworkers being assaulted that affects the memory. Uh, so are we ready for trick-or-treaters yet?" Kerry had had him leave the front light off until they were actually ready to start giving out candy.
"Not yet. I want to change into costume for this evening... so go sit down on the couch, and close your eyes until I return."
"Can I at least get my paperwork out of my satchel?" he asked as she headed upstairs. She reappeared briefly.
"No. Sit down, and close your eyes!" He sighed, and sat down on the couch, his eyes obediently shut, and waited for what seemed like ages. Finally, there was a slight breeze in front of his face... a lightly lilac-scented breeze... and then he heard her voice, somewhere in front of him. "Okay, you can open your eyes."
"Wow." There wasn't anything overtly revealing about the dress - there was absolutely no cleavage shown, and it wasn't transparent - but it billowed and clung in all the right places, shimmering with a glorious pointillistic combination of scarlet and black. She'd put her hair up, too, in a different style, with little flowers from the garden stuck into the tresses. "You look like a... goddess." And she did - she looked like one of the ancient, pre-Christian goddesses of Mediterranean legend... perhaps some kind of volcanic deity. And somehow, the crutch seemed to vanish against that dress... perhaps a reminder that the limp was an artifact of a mortal, fallible body, but her spirit was an eternal, beautiful thing.
Luka got up, almost unwilling to take his eyes off Kerry, and put a Rolling Stones CD in the stereo on shuffle; "Sticky Fingers" was one of the few Stones albums that Kerry could stand. "Let's dance, first, before we get to the charts and, uh, anything else," he suggested as she got the material out of her bag and his satchel, and piled it on the coffeetable, and held out his hands invitingly.
"I thought you couldn't dance?"
"I can't. But I can stand here and bob vaguely in time with the music." She set her crutch aside and balanced on her good leg as he took her into his arms, and they swayed together as "Wild Horses" played; he sighed contentedly, and rested his cheek against her hair, breathing in the scent of her lilac perfume and the flowers in her hair.
Just as Mick Jagger started his final declarations that wild horses couldn't drag him away, the doorbell buzzed. Luka bent down to kiss Kerry and fetch her crutch for her, then followed her to the front door. She picked up the big bowl of candy and Luka opened the door for her, then moved carefully out of sight of the doorway.
Most of the costumes were easy for Kerry to identify... there were some of the tried-and-true costumes, and she recognized the Pikachu costume because they'd had a 'Pikachu' that day, with a tummyache from too much candy at her classroom's Halloween party. But some of the costumes were a little beyond her. "And who are you, dear?" she asked the little girl with blonde hair who was dressed all in black and carrying what appeared to be a pouch full of tent stakes.
"I'm Buffy the Vampire Slayer! You know... Tuesday nights on channel 9?"
"Oh. I usually watch channel 11, myself." 'Buffy' huffed at the distorted priorities that some people had in life, but was pleased by the candy that Kerry put in her bucket; there were general murmurs of approval from all of the kids, at the candy she gave out.
She pretended not to notice the big hand that had taken hold of the door, or the immense figure standing behind her as the kids goggled, but wasn't faking the yelp when Luka suddenly grabbed her from behind and bent her over backwards to nuzzle her neck, making loud slurping noises as he slowly lowered her to the floor and stood back up to growl at the kids.
He noticed with some amusement that the Buffy manque was running the fastest of them all, and bent down to help Kerry to her feet. "You are in so much trouble, Luka!" she informed him... but she was laughing even as she said it.
"Oh, come on. They enjoyed it. Why else would horror movies-- why else would this day be so popular?" As Mick wailed in the other room about dead flowers, Luka suddenly snickered. "Besides, you don't even watch PBS. Just last night, you made me watch that show on Cinemax - 'Passion Cove', was it?"
"Oh, stop it." But her voice was quivering with laughter... he hadn't exactly looked like he'd been protesting her choice of viewing material. He'd looked like he'd enjoyed some of the things shown in the movie, in fact. Or at least he'd seemed pretty darned inspired afterwards....
* * *
As they worked on charts - which was what they were supposed to be doing, after all - Luka sang along softly to "Bitch" (Kerry had vigorously protested, the first time she'd caught sight of the title, but she'd relaxed when she'd seen the lyrics and realized that it was simply a love song... of a sort). They'd had a lot more groups of children over the course of the evening, and they'd repeated the "vampire attack" routine each time - Luka'd been shown to be right: the kids enjoyed the experience, even as much as they shrieked and ran. As he sang, he occasionally leaned over and kissed Kerry, or nuzzled her, or played with a few loose strands of her hair.
Feeling so tired, can't understand it
Just had a fortnight's sleep
I'm feeling so shot, I'm so distracted
Ain't touched a thing all week
I'm feeling drunk, juiced up and sloppy
Ain't touched a drink all night
I'm feeling hungry, can't see the reason
Just ate a horse meat pie
Yeah when you call my name
I salivate like a Pavlov dog
Yeah when you lay me out
My heart is beating louder than a big bass drum, alright
Yeah, you got to mix it child
You got to fix it must be love
It's a bitch
You got to mix it child
You got to fix it but love
It's a bitch, alright
Sometimes I'm sexy, move like a stud
Kicking the stall all night
Sometimes I'm so shy, got to be worked on
Don't have no bark or bite, alright
Yeah when you call my name
I salivate like a Pavlov dog
Yeah when you lay me out
My heart is bumpin' louder than a big bass drum, alright
I said hey, yeah I feel alright now
Got to be a...
Hey, I feel alright now
Hey hey hey
Hey hey yeah...
By the time the last "hey hey hey" had ended, the charts were lying on the coffee table, mostly forgotten, as they made out on the couch like a couple of teenagers. Not, Luka mused, that that couch was any easier on a forty-year-old body than it had been on a thirty-nine-year-old body back in February, but Kerry's dress - the way it looked on her... the way it would look off her! - made the inevitable backache well worth it. He'd just slipped his hand up her skirt, and discovered - to his delight - that the dress was all she was wearing, when the doorbell rang. "Fuck." He shook his head, and carefully got up. He was even more disgusted when he got to the door and had a look out the fisheye. "Get in here, Carter," he growled, once he'd opened the door . "Not that it isn't always a delight to see you, but what are you doing here?"
"Uh, I thought you guys might like some help with trick-or-treaters and chart review."
"I thought you and Abby had a party to go to?" Carter shook his head; Luka had, by now, given up trying to understand the difference between Carter shaking his head for "no" and shaking his head for "yes".
"She got called in to take a nursing shift up in OB at the last minute, so she had to cancel." And your first thought was to come here, Luka thought wearily. Thanks.
"Uh, I'm not sure that we actually need any help," he began, trying to be diplomatic, but of course that was the cue for Kerry to emerge from the living room, looking charmingly deshabille in her fiery dress, with the flowers in her hair a little worse for wear.
"Luka, are you-- John... hi." She blushed, and quickly returned to the living room. Carter stared after her, stunned, then turned back to Luka.
"Oh. So... I guess you don't need help with trick-or-treaters and chart review."
"No. But thank you anyway." But Luka paused... as much as he wanted to get back to Kerry, he didn't think Carter had come by just to help out. Luka and Kerry both knew that Abby was Carter's sponsor, and since his sponsor was working tonight, unexpectedly, he probably needed somebody to talk to. And we would appear to be it, Luka thought morosely. Ah well. "But since you're here now, would you like some coffee?" Carter hesitated for a moment, as though he was considering it, but finally shook his head.
"No thanks. I've already had so much coffee today that I'll probably be shaking all night." Carter opened his mouth, as if he were about to say something more, then shut it again and shook his head slightly. "Sorry to barge in... I'll see you at work tomorrow, Dr Kovac. Good night." He let himself out, and Luka stood there watching... thinking he should say something. But what?
The door closed behind Carter, and Kerry emerged from the living room - Luka seized her and began kissing her a little roughly, growling softly. He'd just begun to stroke the bare skin of her shoulders when the doorbell rang. "Perhaps that's Carter again..." he began, and peered through the fisheye. "Kids," he explained, as he slipped the fangs back in his mouth and went to open the door with a little roar... this time, not totally feigned.
He put a handful of candy into each bucket or bag, and the kids gave him a polite chorus of "Thank you!" when he was done; he growled once more for good measure, and watched them move on to the next house before he shut the door.
It was getting late enough that the flow of trick-or-treaters had slowed to a trickle... this time he simply pulled the dress over her head and threw it to the side, then undid his pants and pushed them down around his knees just before he picked her up and pressed her against the wall, holding on to her hips. She gasped, and dug her nails into him as he moaned and thrust into her; at some point, his legs gave out and they found themselves on the floor; he let her roll them so that she was on top - he was not about to risk a repeat of what had happened back in May, when he'd accidentally fallen asleep with his weight on her bad leg. He was vaguely aware of the rough floormat under his back as she rode him, her bad leg curled slightly, a little out of the way and taking very little of her weight.
She found herself too impatient to unbutton his shirt properly... soon, there was a little clack-clack-rattle of buttons on the floor - he smiled hazily, and wondered if she was going to sew them back on, or if she would expect him to sew them on for her... then promptly forgot all about the damned buttons as her small, delicate hands latched onto his nipples and her mouth fastened onto his neck. She could hear him whimpering softly, babbling in Croatian as he caressed her body and occasionally tightened his grip on her for a moment.
He felt himself approaching the point of no return. "Idem... idem..." he gasped, trying to warn her, but she simply kissed him again, and he forgot what he'd been about to say... at least, until his climax hit him hard and he cried out as he arched under her.
"Wow," she sighed, and stretched out on top of him, humming softly as he rubbed her back, and kissed him. They were nearly asleep when the doorbell buzzed, and jolted them both back awake. "Hmnh?" She turned her head - she'd had her face comfortably nestled into Luka's neck - and raised herself up slightly to turn around and look at the door. There was another series of staccato buzzes, and she groaned. "Oh, god, I forgot to turn off the front light." He chuckled softly, and brushed his fingers along her neck.
"I didn't exactly give you a chance to turn off the light, did I?" She stretched a little, and made a happy purring sound.
"Mm. True. You might want to move a little... I don't think anyone really wants to see a half-naked man in my foyer." He twitched his eyebrows mischievously.
"Depends on who that 'anyone' is, beba." But he moved. "Interested in an attack from a shirtless cowboy vampire?" She snorted, and reached for her dress - he helped her slip it back over her head, and looked around for her crutch, handing it to her and lifting her to her feet. "After this," he murmured, kissing her neck again, "let's shut off that light and then go downstairs and try out that very nice bed I was admiring this morning, hm?".
"Hm," she replied affirmatively, squeezing his hand for a moment
before she went to open the door and dole out more candy.
POST-OPERATIVE NOTES: