Luka sat on the edge of the bed, pleased to be back in his own clothes again, and out of that ugly hospital gown. Kerry was perched on the bed next to him, alternating between holding his hand and rubbing his back. Her hair had become so disheveled in its braid - it always got a little messy by bedtime anyway, and then there'd been that scuffle with the mugger to make things worse - that she'd let it down entirely for a change (although he noticed that she'd tied it back in a loose ponytail shortly after getting up); she'd untucked her blouse at some point, to conceal that she'd unbuttoned her slacks to get a little more room to sleep, and while she'd rebuttoned her slacks, she'd left her shirt-tails hanging out. Overall, hers was a scruffy look that went alarmingly well with the large bruise on her face, where the mugger had hit her.

He noticed that she had a cane - she'd been taken upstairs in a wheelchair earlier this morning, and a little while later Carter had brought the cane to Curtain Area 3 and left it with Luka - a slim, elegant affair with an ornate silver handle. He'd seen it before, propped up in the corner of the closet in the foyer, but he'd never actually seen her use it. Just as well she hadn't had it last night, he supposed - it didn't look all that sturdy... probably wouldn't have stood up more than a minute against that mugger.

"You should have gone home last night," he insisted again, but she shook her head.

"If I'd done that, I would've just wanted to go to bed for about a week... and then I wouldn't have wanted to get back out of bed for another week. And I still wouldn't have slept."

"Mm. A little sore?" He took her hand and kissed it, then sighed.

"A little." She'd finally sent Carter by her house to pick up her "formal" cane. It had no arm cuff, so she wouldn't be able to function in a trauma with it, but at least she'd be able to get around until she could get a new crutch. Ortho had been nice enough to squeeze her in for an examination at the last minute, first thing this morning, and her new crutch would be ready on Monday. He gingerly touched the large bruise on her face, and grimaced when she winced.

"People are going to think I beat you," he said mournfully, but she arched an eyebrow at him.

"If you ever did, I'd use this on you." She brandished the cane meaningfully, and he nodded.

"I know. I felt bad enough about leaving all those little bruises on you, back in February. And the times I've bitten you on the neck. And--" She put an arm around his waist and squeezed him gently.

"It's not like I've never bitten you." He laughed softly.

"That's true. You've bitten me on the neck, on the shoulder, on my chest, and once on the inside of my thigh." She purred at him, and snuggled against him.

"Just feel lucky I was able to move fast enough to bite your thigh, rather than something else."

"I would have preferred that you didn't bite me at all," he complained, but he was giving her a look that had her wanting to take him right there on the hospital bed - she settled for kissing him.

That was when Conni stuck her nose into the room. "Hey, guys. You know, we don't care about the two of you gettin' friendly in here, but the blinds are open and the patients can see you. Oh, and Dr Legaspi is on Line 2, she wants to talk to you, Dr Weaver." Kerry smiled awkwardly; she was still in Luka's arms, and he seemed reluctant to let her go.

"Okay, Conni. Thanks." Luka helped her down from the bed, and she crutched slowly over to the phone - oh, she was definitely feeling last night's activity! "This is Dr Weaver," she said cautiously, after she'd pressed the button for Line 2.

"Kerry. Hi."

"Kim. You sound like you're coming down with something."

"Kinda. I just-- I can't make lunch, I'm sorry. It's swamped up here, and, uh...."

"Oh... lunch. I'd forgotten about that. Last night wound up pretty chaotic for me, and--" Kerry thought she heard Kim laugh humorlessly.

"Riiight. That other stuff that came up for you." Kerry completely missed the sarcasm in Kim's voice. "Well, you didn't miss much with skipping that lecture - it was more narcoleptic than neuroleptic. Um, I gotta get back to it," Kim said, a little more abruptly than she'd intended.

"All right. I'll see you later, then."

"Yeah. Goodbye." Kim hung up the phone, and - after a moment's hesitation - picked it up again and made another call. "Hi, Kristy. Can you come over tonight, after you get off work? What? No... I need some help with packing: I got offered a job in California, and I'm going to have to get out there as soon as I can. Yeah... sure. Go ahead and ask Lori and Nikki and the others to drop by, too. The more the merrier, right? We'll make a party of it - I'll order pizza for everybody, and we can work on depleting the wine I have in the cabinet. Anything we don't finish up, you guys can take home with you. Great. Sounds like fun - I'll see you then." She hung up, and ran her fingers through her hair.

Aw, goddammit... no... no... you're not gonna cry again! she scolded herself. She kept saying it to herself, even when she began sobbing... she was glad she'd shut her office door before she sat down to call Kerry. She was also glad Kerry hadn't asked how she knew where to call - she wasn't sure how she would have answered that. She felt somehow betrayed by the sudden revelation of the identity of Kerry's mystery lover, but she wasn't sure why. After all, she'd already known Kerry was involved with somebody. Maybe it was just the letdown of having hoped that that somebody wasn't real, that there might still be a chance for her. She drew a few shuddering breaths, and gradually got herself back under control - she had a patient coming in about twenty minutes, and it really wouldn't do for Mrs Clayton to see her this way.

* * *

Kerry hung up, and frowned. "That was... strange."

"What's strange? How's Kim doing?" He liked the woman well enough... he just didn't like her flirting with Kerry.

"Busy. She was calling to cancel lunch, which is a good thing, because I'd forgotten I'd suggested it last night." He snickered softly.

"There's something about being attacked, that seems to play tricks with memory, isn't there?"

"Mm-hm. Getting punched in the face, beating up a guy with my crutch, it's more fun than-- the bear!" Luka frowned at her, puzzled by her sudden exclamation.

"What?"

"The bear you won for me! We must have lost it last night, when that guy attacked you." She wrung her hands miserably - she'd had lovers, but for the most part they'd been drawn to her more serious sides... there were no carnival prizes in her past, because nobody had ever thought that she might be interested in a fun trip to someplace like Navy Pier. Luka'd been the only one to see and encourage that side of her. And now their souvenir of that evening was... gone.

Luka watched her react to the loss of the teddy bear - maybe it was just delayed shock, that she was so upset over something so relatively trivial. He knew better than to suggest going back and getting another one, though, since she was mourning that particular bear, not the general idea of a bear. "Let's ask the paramedics if maybe one of them found it, okay? It's not very likely, but stranger things have happened, hm?"

"Like us getting together?" He shook his head in vigorous protest, and promptly repressed a yelp at the pain (reacting so vocally would have distracted her, when he was trying to reassure her).

"Now come on... it's not that strange!"

"No? What if things had worked out differently? As much as Carol looked like Danijela, you could have--"

"But I didn't, did I? I'm with you, because that's where I want to be, okay?" His voice was quiet, but firm. "I don't play games, remember?" He'd told her that, shortly after they'd kissed for the first time... after she'd accused him of fantasizing about Carol. Kerry sighed.

"I know. I guess I just need to be reminded sometimes." Her voice was still a little anxious, but - he noted - she was smiling again. Good... he worried when she got into one of her insecure moods... worried about what she might do, if she ever decided to seriously doubt him and his love.

Dave had come in earlier, and checked Luka over quickly - tested simple neuro functions, had a look at his pupils, and then made a note on Luka's chart. "Okay... you're doin' much better than you were last night. Take it easy, get lots of rest," he had said, somehow managing to avoid looking over at the Chief and grinning (although part of that wasn't so much self-control as the awareness that neither Dr Weaver nor Dr Kovac tended to have much patience with his antics, and were just as likely to strangle him). Now Conni came in with the discharge paperwork and handed it to Luka, and he handed it to Kerry with a little smile.

"You signed me in here last night - you might as well sign me back out." Kerry went ahead and scribbled her name on the line as Conni watched - she'd been down for those two to go public last week - and handed the clipboard back. Luka's smile disappeared, however, when it was made clear that he was expected to climb into a wheelchair and be wheeled out of the place.

"This is absurd! I was never actually an inpatient - just here for a 12-hour observation. And besides, since when do patients get wheeled out of Emergency? They usually leave on foot." Kerry could see, however, how heavily he was still leaning against the bed: sometimes that man was every bit as stubborn as she was, if not more so, and that was saying a lot!

"Luka, get in the chair and stop complaining! I saw how unsteady you were on your feet earlier, and I don't want you falling over, on your way to the car. I can't help you up under the best of circumstances, and I'm definitely too stiff and sore for it now!" She pointed firmly at the wheelchair Conni had brought in, and after a moment of hesitation and sullen grumbling, he obeyed. Then she went to his side, and whispered something in his ear that made him perk up noticeably.

"Stvarno?" She leaned over him, supporting her weight on the armrests of the chair, and gave him a slow, sultry smile before kissing him.

"Da." He rubbed the bandage on his arm where the IV had been, and grinned up at her speculatively - she reached over and tweaked his nose playfully, and he caught her hand to kiss it quickly. Conni smirked, and rolled her eyes... she was tempted to offer to close the blinds and leave the two of them alone in here for about an hour, but she wasn't entirely certain they wouldn't take her up on that.

* * *

Carter had offered to give them a ride home, but Kerry had regretfully declined - they were going to have to come back later for one of the cars, as it was. Besides, he wasn't off for another forty minutes, and Luka was chomping at the bit to get home, and into a real bed. "We're taking my car... unless that Volvo of yours has magically sprouted an automatic transmission overnight."

"Fine with me - I don't really want to drive. I just want to go home and sleep." He'd forgotten that a hospital was a lousy place to get rest - it was noisy and smelly, and while the beds were okay for grabbing a little nap during a long shift, they were terrible for getting a good night's sleep. Not that he'd been allowed to sleep much - on top of his aching head, and the discomfort of the IV in his arm, he'd been gently awakened every so often by one nurse or another (at one point - he didn't really remember it, but Conni had mentioned it as she was getting him his clothes - he'd been taken for a head CT because Dr LaVelle had become nervous about his responses to stimuli).

At least Kerry had appeared to get some rest... or at least every time he woke up (or was awakened) she'd appeared to be sound asleep. She'd looked so small and fragile, lying on the bed, with her red hair gloriously loose around her shoulders and contrasting beautifully with the color of her blouse. She'd set her glasses aside on a nearby mayo stand, and her hands had been folded on her abdomen, just like a-- no. He'd forced himself to watch her lying there, breathing evenly and regularly, for several minutes, before he'd been convinced that she was really okay. The light of the small lamp - left on for the convenience of the nurses coming and going - cast eerie shadows on her face, though, and he'd had a strange dream at some point during the night. It hadn't really had enough of a plot for him to remember anything about it - it was, he supposed, just his unconscious mind babbling and stirring over the day's events - but he did remember that it had been strange.

They pulled up in front of her house, a while later. "Stay there," she told him firmly. "I'll come around and get your door for you."

They went up the front steps together, and inside. "Go ahead and lean on me a little bit, if you like. Do you want to lie down on the couch, or--?"

"I want to sleep in my own bed, thank you." She didn't even bother offering to help him up the stairs - she was going to have enough trouble making it up there herself - but watched him head up there.

"Okay. I'll bring you some aspirin and a glass of water in a minute."

"Yes, Mommy." She smiled at his affected "little kid" voice... although the look he was giving her over his shoulder would be better suited for, say, Oedipus.

* * *

She hadn't slept well last night - she'd been worried about him anyway, and that worry hadn't been eased by hearing him call out several times, in a dazed-sounding voice, "Gdje su njih? Molim vas, su li u redu?" She'd pressed the call button, and Luka had soon been taken for a head CT. Fortunately, an intracranial hemorrhage had been easily ruled out - she supposed he might have been reacting to a combination of the physical trauma and his unexpected status as a patient. She knew she hadn't enjoyed the experience.

He tumbled onto the bed, casting an indignant glance at Kerry when she laughed. "What's so funny?"

"I've never seen you go to bed without getting undressed first. Even, uh, back in May, a couple of days before you went to Croatia, you were undressed when I came home."

"Mmrph. You've just never seen me feeling like shit, that's all." But he watched her get undressed, and join him on the bed. She smiled, and began unbuttoning his shirt. "Mm. So are you planning to just undress me, or do you have something more in mind?"

"The first one. I'm pretty tired, too."

"Me too." She soon had his shirt off - noticing that somebody had taken a moment to wash out the splotch of blood that had been all over the back of the collar, from the wound on his head - and got his pants off with a little more effort. He tried to help, but he kept falling asleep - finally they were both naked... and entirely too exhausted to do anything about it. They settled for curling up in each other's arms, and zonking out.

* * *

She babied him shamelessly the entire next day - he tried not to take advantage of her willingness to get him food or drinks or reading material or "anything else", but he had to admit that he liked being taken care of.

Most of the time, though, she stayed next to him on the bed, and worked on charts she'd grabbed when they were on their way out. She phoned a local Thai takeaway in the afternoon, and got some food delivered... she put on clothes long enough to answer the door and pay the delivery man, and she and Luka ate au naturel on the couch while watching a tape of "Dr Strangelove"... chuckling at the black humor of the movie. After the movie ended, she did an impression of Slim Pickens that had Luka calling out "Yee-haw!", and they napped for a little bit before heading upstairs to bed.

* * *

The next morning, Kerry watched Luka sleeping soundly next to her, and smiled at the sight of his relaxed face. "You're staring at me again, aren't you?" His eyes were still closed, but he was smiling now.

"How'd you know?"

"'m psychic," he teased, as he opened his eyes and rolled towards her. He was in much better spirits than he'd been the other night, after the mugger had hit him with the pipe - he kissed her, and groaned softly as she twined a leg around his waist. "You should never do that unless you mean it," he scolded her, and gestured in the general direction of the clock, which indicated that she had time to get a shower and a quick breakfast, but not time for that. At least... not properly, and properly was the only way he liked to do it: he liked to take plenty of time with her, and they didn't have plenty of time.

"Damn." She scooched to the side of the bed and put her robe on, wincing as the movement disturbed some very sore muscles. "Are you going to be all right by yourself today?"

"I should be all right. I'd rather go to work, though--"

"I know. But you're still slightly concussed, I don't want you to risk it." He rolled his eyes.

"I would be in a hospital - it seems to me to be the safest place to have a relapse."

"You need to rest. I don't want you passing out in the middle of a trauma." He shrugged, and rolled onto his side to stare at her - she had neglected to tie the sash on her robe, and the view was a little distracting.

"You could always tie me down to the bed and wear me out," he suggested mischievously; she was tempted to take him up on that suggestion, but shook her head.

"One of us has to show up today, you know."

"Mm. I could restrict myself to minors and chart reviews. Sutures? I'd be sitting down the whole time, you know... no need to worry about me falling over."

"You could still fall off the stool, and crack your head... again. Now get some sleep." He glared at her mutinously. "Don't give me that look! Just lie down, and enjoy a day off." He snorted at her.

"This is not a day off. A day off does not involve having to stay in bed all day... unless there's a certain beautiful redhead in the bed with me." He aimed a smoldering stare at her that left absolutely no doubt which beautiful redhead he meant, and she blushed. "Besides... if I have to stay home, you'll have to face any gossip at work by yourself - I kind of wanted to be there with you, the first time we go back, after being 'outed'." He used the term with a little wince - he was too aware that it was, these days, most often used to describe a person's homosexuality being publicly exposed - but he was sincere in his desire to support and protect her. Their newly-overt relationship would be a nine-day wonder, at best, before it made way for the newest gossip, but people would probably be very curious about them in the meantime.

"Okay." He stared at her quizzically, and she nodded. "You heard me. Go ahead and get up, and get ready, and you can go with me." She turned and limped out of the bedroom without another word, and winced when she heard a >thump!< that sounded a lot like six feet and four inches, and two-hundred-some pounds, of Croatian taking a spill.

"I'm okay!" she heard him shout, and couldn't resist snickering a little as she headed downstairs to fix some breakfast. Energy shake? Nah... she didn't really feel like going to the effort of chopping up fruit and running the blender this morning. Instead, she reached into the refrigerator for some of the hot Thai chicken left over from last night, then grabbed a fork and ate right out of the container... mm! She put the container back - she wanted to leave some for Luka! - and got out the pork satay... neatly stripping the pieces of meat off the skewers, one by one, and setting aside the skewers for later disposal.

Before she knew it, she'd finished that off, and was surprised by how much she'd eaten... she shook her head, and threw away the empty container and skewers.

When she went back upstairs, to get her shower, she was unsurprised to find Luka back under the covers, pouting slightly. "I guess I'm staying home after all - I got to the bathroom, and felt lousy."

"Well, there's some leftover chicken in the fridge, sweetie, and of course there's still some of this week's soup, if you want something a little lighter on your stomach." He'd made beef soup this week... delicious, but she'd been in the mood for the more filling chicken and pork.

* * *

"Trent Carlson, cut his hand in a community center art class. He's waiting in the suture room." Carter made an unenthusiastic little "woo-hoo" face, and took the chart. On his way to the suture room, however, he was stopped by a well-dressed woman who appeared to be in her early 60s.

"Are you the doctor who will be treating my grandson? Trent Carlson?" Carter nodded.

"Yes, ma'am - Dr Carter." She extended a hand, and he shook it perfunctorily.

"Magretha Carlson." She hesitated a moment before she spoke again. "Dr Carter, there's something you need to know about treating my grandson. I suppose you think it's strange that I'm raising my grandson, rather than his mother--"

"No, not really," he replied honestly. His parents had been in and out of his life so much, with their travelling, that he sometimes felt as though he'd been raised by Gamma. Trent's grandmother stared at him oddly, then continued.

"His mother - my daughter - contracted AIDS through drug use while she was pregnant with him, and she died when he was still a baby. We've never told him, but he's HIV positive, too."

"Wait a minute - how can you hide something that big from him?" The woman shrugged.

"We - his doctor and I - have always told him that the reason he takes so many pills, on such a tight schedule, is that he has a vitamin deficiency. When he's older, I'll tell him, but in the meantime--"

"I have to tell him, it's a health issue! If he's having sex, he could be spreading the virus to his partne--" She looked offended.

"My grandson is not having sex," she informed him icily. "He would tell me - I would know - if he were."

Carter wanted to laugh and say "wanna bet?" He knew perfectly well that, despite the close relationship he'd always had with Gamma, she still didn't know about the girls he'd "entertained" at the poolhouse sometimes after school... there were just some things that a boy did not share with his grandmother! "Even if that's the case, that he's not having sex, he does have a right to know about his health condition, so he can take precautions. If somebody else had been injured in that art class, for instance--" Magretha Carlson's expression and voice froze over the rest of the way.

"You have no right to interfere in our family business, doctor! I'm going to take my grandson out of here, and we'll go to his own doctor." She made a move toward the suture room, but Carter put himself in the way.

"Security!" he called out; he didn't really expect a response, he just wanted to stop this woman from taking her grandson out of here. She glowered at him.

"This is not over, Dr Carter," she assured him, but he simply smirked at her.

"You can wait over there, in chairs. It won't take that long to get Trent sewn back up."

* * *

Carter chatted with Trent, apparently idly, as he finished stitching up the cut. "So nobody else was hurt when you cut your hand?"

"No. I just got a little klutzy with my knife, and sliced myself."

"Hm. Uh, I understand that you're on a fairly strict regimen of medication?"

"Yeah. I have a vitamin deficiency." Carter snipped the final suture, but didn't make "we're done" noises.

"And you're not sexually active?" Trent looked confused by the question.

"Of course not!" He sounded indignant, but Carter's teen years weren't that far behind him - he recognized the undertones of guilt in the boy's voice.

"I just spoke with your grandmother, Trent. About your 'vitamin deficiency'."

"Yeah? What about it?" The boy was a little hostile... a little defensive. Poor kid, Carter thought, unaware he was smirking again.

"There is no vitamin deficiency, Trent. You're HIV positive, it's how your mother died." He heard Trent gasp softly, and continued. "You've been lied to about this, all your life, and it's not fair, but--"

"What about you?" The hostility was much more evident now. "You could be lying to me right now!"

"I'm not lying to you, I swear I'm not." Trent sucked in his breath and shook his head slowly, then got up. "Sex is dangerous for you, Trent. Anybody you've slept with needs to be tested, and you should always use condoms. I can set up an appointment with a case manager for you, and--"

But Trent had already stood up and brushed past Carter, and out of the room. Carter followed quickly, in time to see Magretha Carlson try to approach her grandson. "Go to hell!" he yelled at her, and pushed his way out. Her gaze shifted to land on Carter for a moment - she was really angry - and then she turned around and walked out of the hospital, too.

Well, Carter thought, I'd better fill out an incident report for Kerry....

* * *

Kerry had tried to get in touch with Kim a few times over the course of the day - the woman had sounded a little strange, the last time Kerry spoke to her - and finally decided to take advantage of a lull in the action to go upstairs.

She was shocked to find Kim in the process of loading several boxes with the contents of her office. "Kim? Wha- what's going on?" Kim turned, and Kerry could see she'd been crying; it was almost a reflex, to snatch several tissues out of the box on the desk, and hand them over. Kim snuffled a little, and mopped at her face, trying not to look at Kerry, who'd knelt next to her concernedly.

"Kerry. I didn't think you'd actually come up here." Damn. She'd hoped to have all her stuff packed, and be out of here before Kerry decided to drop by. Well, she supposed she could try to put on a good show.

"I was worried about you." Kerry's voice was gentle, and it just broke Kim's heart further.

"I... got a job offer in California, and I just couldn't turn it down, what with another Chicago winter coming up." Not to mention that California was the farthest she could get from Kerry, aside from the offer she'd had from a hospital in Alaska (and an Alaskan winter didn't sound any better than what the weatherman was expecting for Chicago this year).

* * *

Trent came back in, accompanied by a teenaged girl, and Carter greeted him. "Trent! Hi, who--" Trent glared at him, and he quickly ushered the three of them into the lounge, for more privacy.

"This is my girlfriend, Emma Bryce. We had unprotected sex, and now--"

"We'll run the tests immediately," Carter promised.

* * *

Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored. Luka knew he should be enjoying having an unexpected day off, but he was going nuts. Hell with this... he was going out, at least for some fresh air in the back yard. He got up - wincing as the motion disturbed his headache - and headed for the bathroom, where he took a couple of aspirin and got in the shower.

He hadn't wanted to stop with what he'd done to the mugger... he'd wanted to keep pounding the guy's head into the pavement, bashing in his skull, until there was blood and grey matter everywhere - Kerry had been hurt, and he'd been unable to keep that from happening... just like before. His hands clenched for a moment, as though they were back on the mugger's coat, then batted against the sides of the shower, trying to dispel his nervous energy.

The sudden motion, though, jostled his head again, and he moaned softly and leaned against the wall, muttering softly, then pushed his fingers through his rapidly dampening hair. He couldn't help seeing that moment in his memories, over and over... coming to, just before Kerry's crutch was knocked out of her hand, and getting up to pull the mugger away from her. Adrenalin had taken him through the action of grabbing the guy, and slamming him into helpless unconsciousness, but then it had retreated and left him high and dry... standing on legs that would no longer support him, as the contents of his stomach made a desperate bid for freedom... ugh.

He wasn't quite aware of his knees buckling under him, only vaguely aware of sagging down and sitting with a hard splashy thump, half-shielding his face with his hands as the water sprayed down on him. The panic attack took him completely by surprise; this time he thought for a while he really was having a heart attack - he gasped for air, and felt his heart racing inside a suddenly constricted chest... oh, God, he was going numb. He was gonna die in here, and Kerry would find him later tonight, with cold water shooting down on his lifeless body. And he had thought that dying on the toilet with his pants around his ankles was an unpleasant proposition! He realized, then, that he was laughing. Not heartily - his breath hadn't returned enough for that - but a pained little "aheh... aheh" was jagging out of him.

He closed his eyes, and let his head fall back against the tile. Oh, damn. He'd thought he was done with the panic attacks... he'd last had one in the airport in Zagreb, shortly after arriving, when he'd been so worried about dropping in on his brother so suddenly. He supposed he should have known better - should have expected something like this, as hard as he'd been hit and then stressed last night. He knew there were medications that would lessen the severity of the attacks, but he tended to distrust pills... mostly because he knew that the sanctuary they offered was so often a trap: he knew he could have easily wound up like Carter, stealing drugs to keep himself too numb to think about everything he'd lost.

In a way, though, it was almost worse that he'd simply frozen up inside the way he had, for so many years. He thought he was doing better, but there wasn't any way to test that. It wasn't as though he could just pee into a cup, and have some lab tech tell him that all the right chemicals were there, after all.

* * *

"No way... there's been a big mistake." Carter had just given Emma the results of her tests, and she stood there next to Trent with her fingers still intertwined with his. "C'mon! There's no way it can be positive, I mean, I don't even feel sick!" Carter looked at them both, very seriously.

"There are a lot of good drug therapies available to control the viral load--" Emma's eyes widened, as the weight of what Carter was saying began to sink in, and she jerked her hand away from Trent's as she turned to glare at him.

"You infected me?!? You-- I wish we'd never had sex! Now I've got this disease, and..." She stopped suddenly, staring at her hands with a look of horror on her face.

"You should talk to a counselor," Carter said weakly. He'd always done well with the theoretical side of psychology, but it was the application where he tended to fall down... which was ironic, since Dr Benton had always been on his case about talking to the patients too much. "I can give you some names...."

Emma tried to walk away, but Trent caught at her hand, to hold her back. "Emma, baby... you know I had no idea, don't you?"

"Um well you two have a lot to talk about just leave you here to discuss the matter need to see other patients," Carter mumbled, and edged out of the room as Emma and Trent proceeded to argue.

* * *

Kim leaned forward and cupped one hand to caress Kerry's cheek and gently hold her in place, then moved in the rest of the way and kissed her. Kerry relaxed into the kiss for a moment, shifting her head slightly to make the angle of contact less awkward, then abruptly pushed away and sat back, her eyes averted.

"I... would be lying if I said I didn't like that," she admitted quietly. "But it's not what I want. If things were different, maybe...."

"But they're not, are they?"

"No. I will miss you, though." Kim smiled bitterly.

"But you'll miss me as a friend, won't you?"

"I'm sorry." Her voice was little more than a whisper, and Kim grimaced.

"Don't apologize. You can't control how you feel, any more than I can. But... eventually... with time and distance, it'll get better." Kim sounded as though she was trying to convince herself of this. She gently touched Kerry's cheek again, this time just memorizing the way that warm, soft skin felt under her fingertips... and trying to forget the pity she saw in Kerry's eyes. "I just wish you'd trusted me enough to tell me about you and Dr Kovac." She stood, and helped Kerry to her feet.

"You heard?" Silly question, she knew - she'd been getting odd looks all day, from the few people who hadn't already figured out that she and Luka were a couple.

"Well... no. Abby came back upstairs that night, and said that you'd been brought in, in an ambulance. I guess I didn't really bother to listen to the rest of what she said, about Dr Kovac being with you - I rushed downstairs, to make sure you were all right. I saw you at his bedside, asleep, and the way you two looked together... you looked like you could have been together for years."

"Sometimes that's exactly how I feel... like he and I have been together forever," she told Kim shyly. "You know," she tried to joke, "it's not going to be easy, breaking in a new person up here in Psych. You and I have worked so well together."

"We did, didn't we? And maybe that's part of why I was - am - so attracted to you... we get along well personally, and at the same time mesh well professionally. And, of course, that you're so beautiful." Her voice softened, and Kerry instinctively stepped back.

"Kim...."

"I know." Kerry's pager went off, and she shook her head.

"Please. Don't leave until I've had a chance to talk to you again?"

"Kerry, don't. I--" Kim took a deep breath, then another. "I won't write to you, and you're not going to write to me. Please. Just... let me leave with a little of my dignity intact." Kerry's pager went off again. "You'd better get that. I just want you to be happy, you know. If you being happy means that you're with Dr Ko-- with Luka, then that's where you need to be."

"But you're unhappy," Kerry noted sadly. "I seem to have a knack for that."

"And what are you going to do, hm? You're where you belong. I deluded myself into thinking that I had a real chance with you - even after I knew for sure that you were with Luka, I was foolish enough to take a risk with that kiss."

"But--"

"Kerry, just go!" Kim yelled this time, her voice breaking, and Kerry recoiled from the shout. "Go, live your life, be happy, whatever, just get out of here! Now!"

Kerry backed away, her eyes big and wounded, and Kim deliberately turned away and went back to packing. "Goodbye, Kim," she said quietly, and walked out of the office, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

Carter finished with a patient, and saw, as he took the chart back to the rack, that Emma Bryce had returned - she was crying on Chuny's shoulder, and the young nurse was making comforting noises as the girl wept.

"Emma? Is something wrong?" Chuny gave him the stinkeye, for asking such a dumb question, and he blushed. Emma extricated herself from Chuny, and glared at Carter.

"We were arguing, me and Trent, and he just ran out into the street and got hit by a car. And now he's dead, and it's all your fault!"

"Emma, it was important for you to be diagn--"

"Just leave me alone, you bastard! Go away!" Then, despite her words, she rushed away, and went in the bathroom. Chuny looked at him seriously... somehow managing to avoid looking disapproving, which was, in a way, even worse.

"We've called his grandmother - she's on her way back down." She took in Carter's dejected expression, and sighed. "There wasn't anything else you could have done, Carter," she told him gently.

"Maybe. But the kid's still dead, isn't he?"

* * *

Kerry headed back downstairs... more than a little troubled by the scene in Kim's office. She had always considered herself to be one of the straightest people she knew - she had genuinely enjoyed every one of her lovers, up to and including Luka - so she had certainly not expected to have enjoyed that impromptu kiss so much. She could still feel the unnerving softness, both of Kim's hand and Kim's lips-- augh! She grimaced, and rushed into the nearest bathroom, where she was noisily sick and stayed there, crouched over the toilet bowl, for several minutes before she felt secure enough to get up and wash her face and rinse out her mouth.

She was ashamed of herself, having reacted that way to the kiss - not only had she always considered herself resolutely straight, but she had a number of close friends who were homosexual... hell, even her sister was a lesbian! And then, to have become nauseated by a simple (although surprisingly pleasant) kiss... she felt bad about her reaction.

She walked into the lounge, and found Carter staring bemusedly into his open locker. "I heard about what happened with your patient - your patients - earlier," she said, with a rising inflection that invited him to talk. He grunted softly, though, and kept up his silent vigil of the inside of his locker. "You did the right thing telling him," she insisted. Now he turned to look at her, and she could see how much he was hurting. Oh, not physically, but it was plain that he was torn up inside.

"The right thing?" he asked her wearily. "That kid is dead, because I told him... against his grandmother's wishes." She tried to keep him grounded... to keep him from spiraling into useless self-blame and guilt.

"Maybe. And maybe not - he could have been hit by that car anyway, even if you'd kept quiet. But at least his girlfriend got tested, and she can start treatment, which is more than she would have had otherwise. You might feel bad now, but how much worse would you feel if she'd gone without diagnosis? How long do you think it would have taken her doctor to figure out why she was starting to feel so sick, without her knowing that her boyfriend had been infected?"

"I guess," Carter muttered disconsolately, and she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"I'm off in twenty - stick around, have dinner with me, John." He made a little face.

"I have a meeting at nine, you know." She nodded.

"You'll make it. I just had in mind a burger or a sandwich, across the street, rather than a fancy nine-course meal, after all." He sighed.

"Okay, okay," he tried to grumble. But he couldn't help smiling just a little, that somebody was showing some concern for him.

* * *

Dinner had been pleasant - she enjoyed talking with John - but she'd been missing Luka all day. She opened the front door and went straight upstairs, to check on him. When she found the bed empty, she began to worry... okay, calm down Kerry. A quick look in the bathroom revealed that he hadn't slipped and broken his neck, although the damp towel on the rack revealed that he'd had a shower. At least he hadn't left any clothes on the floor, she decided. But that still didn't answer the question of where he was.

She tried the living room next, with success - he was sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep. One arm rested on his abdomen, the other was flung out over the side... his mouth was open slightly. He'd moved so that his upper body was all the way on the couch, and his feet (bare feet - he'd gotten as far as putting on a t-shirt and jeans, possibly with the idea of going outside... although it was pretty late in the evening for that) hung over the edge.

She perched on the edge of the coffee table, and gently slipped her hand into the hand he had stretched over the side of the couch - it tightened convulsively for a second, and he jerked awake instantly. His eyes focused on her, and he relaxed. "Hi. Ohhh... what time is it?"

"Nearly nine. I just got in." He closed his eyes again for a moment, and groggily rubbed at his face with his free hand.

"Oh. I've been out for a while, then, I guess."

"I guess," she teased him gently, and leaned forward to kiss him. Mm... yeah, that was the stuff!

* * *

"Whoa. Attack of the pod people!" Randi pointed at the door, where Kovac and Weaver were coming in. They were both laughing, deep in conversation, and he had his hands all over her. He'd just playfully nudged her with his hip when they looked up and caught Randi staring.

"Good morning, Randi!" Weaver echoed his greeting, and headed for the lounge. He watched her go, and turned toward the admit desk, where Randi, in turn, was watching everything.

"So who won the pool?"

"Won the what?" Luka reflected that Randi probably could have had a bright future as an actress or a secret agent - she was almost convincing.

"Oh, so there wasn't a pool on when we'd 'go public'? Here, where the staff bets on the outcome of BAL tests on homeless people? And, I seem to recall hearing about a pool on when Carol would leave." Randi wilted in the face of Luka's skepticism.

"Okay, okay... Chuny won. Just barely, but she won." Luka nodded.

"Ah. I've been told that there's somebody interested in the results of that." He started to turn away, but changed his mind. "Oh... and who did win the pool for Carol's departure? Just curious."

"Mm... I don't remember. Really!" she insisted, when Luka stared at her incredulously. "Believe it or not, I am very busy around here!"

"I can see," Luka snickered, glancing at the ever-present magazine in her hands and the lack of paperwork anywhere near her hands. She just gave him a disgusted look, and went back to her article on "Sixty-Nine Sexy Secrets Of The Stars".

* * *

"I want to redo the outgoing message on the answering machine, and add you to it." They'd got home just fifteen minutes ago, and Luka was in the kitchen trying to turn the meager contents of the refrigerator - they really needed to do some grocery shopping! - into their dinner. He poked his head around the corner to look at Kerry, who had flopped down on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Oh. Okay." She turned at the unenthusiastic tone of his voice.

"If you don't want to do it, you don't have to," she said, but her anxiety was obvious.

"No, no... I want to do it. I just don't like doing those messages - my voice always sounds peculiar to me." That struck her as funny, somehow... as beautiful as his voice was, he didn't like the sound of it?

"So you're not having second thoughts about being public?"

"No. You know it's what I've wanted all along. Today was a good day... but the very best part of it was being able to kiss you, or hold your hand, without having to worry about who might be watching." He temporarily abandoned the quest for dinner, to join her on the couch. "So how are you feeling, so far, about being mine in the eyes of the world?"

"It's not so bad, I suppose," she understated; he coughed indignantly.

"You suppose? Thank you very much!" She giggled, and took hold of his shirt to kiss him. "Mm... you think you're getting away with that so easily? Just one kiss, and your insult is forgotten?" His put-on severity was convincing enough that her smile faded, and she began to back away from him, but he pulled her back into his arms for another kiss. "That makes two kisses," he noted smugly. She glared at him, and smacked his shoulder.

"Go make dinner!" He got up and went back to the kitchen, laughing... after a while, Kerry shook her head, and chuckled, too.

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