"Carter, you're looking much better." Dr. Kovac yawned as he pulled
off the pants to his scrubs.

"Thanks. Tough shift?" John quickly ducked into his locker pretending
to hunt for his stethoscope.

"Long, but not too bad considering the 1st of the month fell on a
Friday. A lot of bar fights and the usual. Some guy they'd fished out
of the gutter vomited all over me. You know the drill."

"At least you were wearing scrubs."

"Yeah. I seem to remember this young colleague of mine recommending
that scrubs should be worn during the first five days of the month."
Luka yawned again. "I'm going to shower here so when I get home, all
I have to do is fall into bed."

"Good night, then." John grabbed his lab coat and left the room. Why
did Luka have to mention falling into bed. John spent most of his
nights dreaming about the man. Just now, when Luka had pulled off his
pants, John felt the beginnings of an erection. It was getting
harder, to coin a phrase, to keep up a "business as usual" attitude
in Luka's presence. The recent shift in personnel, meant that he
never knew when his newest co-worker would be on duty.

Carter should have taken his own advice. Fifteen minutes into his
shift, a drunken teenager threw up spectacularly all over his lab
coat and trousers. Dripping, he hurried to the locker room, catching
a pair of scrubs from Lydia as he went down the hall. Damn, just as
he walked in, Luka emerged from the showers wearing nothing but a
County-issue towel, a cross, and his watch. Without thinking, John
turned to face his locker, but not fast enough to hide the fact he
was blushing.

"Got you too?" Luka smiled as he reached for his briefs.

"Yep. I should listen to that young colleague of yours more often."
John was fumbling with the buttons to his coat. His fingers were
trembling. Luka glanced up as a button ricocheted off the lockers
behind him.

"Do you need some help?" He asked laughing.

"No." John finally got the coat open and quickly tossed it into the
laundry bin. If the buttons had proved difficult, his belt and zipper
were worse. Luka casually watched as his friend struggled with
disrobing.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?"

"Positive. Believe it or not, I *do* know how to undress myself."
John got his trousers open, grabbed the scrubs and headed for the
showers. As he passed Luka, their eyes met. Luka smiled.

"You should take something for your nerves."

"I'm OK." John raced into the shower.

"Carter? Don't you think you should leave the scrubs out here? Unless
you were looking forward to working in wet clothes."

"They won't get wet. I'm only going to wash my hands and face."

"See you tomorrow then." Luka called out as he finished dressing.

"Yeah. Good-night." John sighed, relieved to be alone. He washed his
hands and face and dressed rapidly. Thank God scrubs did not have
buttons, snaps, or zippers. Grabbing a lab coat, he returned to work.

Carter had discovered in prep school that he could be attracted to
men as well as women. It had scared him. Relations with his family
were strained and John was trying his best not to disappoint them or
provide reasons to deepen their dissatisfaction. Taking refuge in the
well-known phenomena of adolescent sexual confusion, he tried to
convince himself it was just a phase. Only it wasn't.

He made it through college and med-school dating only women and did
just fine. It wasn't until he began dreaming of Dennis Gant, that he
realized he'd been fooling himself. His guilt over Dennis's death
stemmed partially from feeling relieved that he'd managed to control
his desire and could finally stop worrying about his attraction being
revealed. Shaken, he concentrated his attention on his work and had
just begun to breathe again when Luka Kovac was hired as a temp to
replace Doug Ross. It was love a first sight.

The dreams began almost immediately. John actually looked forward to
going to sleep. This time, he promised himself, he would act on his
feelings. Hell, he and rejection were old friends. He'd be brave and
bold and go for the gold. There was only one problem---two, really.
Luka was Catholic and, according to Carole Hathaway, still grieving
for his wife and daughters. The love of his life was over before it
began. At least he would be spared the "Dear John" speech.

All through his shift, John's mind kept returning to Luka. "He'll be
getting home now, falling into bed..." Shaking his head, Carter
forced himself to concentrate on suturing a young woman who'd fallen
off a bar stool. She wasn't inebriated, the bar stool had been broken
and tipped her onto the floor. John finished the stitching and gave
her the customary warnings about not getting them wet. She promised
to check in with her own doctor in the morning.

"Hey, who was the hot babe?" Dr. Malucci appeared out of nowhere.

"Who?"

"That gorgeous blonde you were treating."

"Oh. She told me her name, but I forgot."

"Well, it should be on her chart."

"Uh huh. And that's where it's going to stay. Geez, Dave, I'm
begining to think you went into medicine as an alternative to
cruising the singles bars."

"Not quite, but you must admit, we get to know a lot about people
when we treat them. You know, marital status, STD status, phone
numbers, addresses, occupations. It beats trying to get all that
info while engaged in innocuous small talk accompanied by loud music."

"Well, let me know if you get lucky." Carter headed up the hall to
pick up his next patient; leaving Dave staring after him. Carter had
been mooning around for the past few months. Dave grinned, wondering
if it was love or just Carter's usual nerdiness.

John's shift finally ended, he went home to his nightly cold shower
and dreams of Luka.

* * * * *
Luka turned over for the tenth time in as many minutes. Despite his
exhaustion, he couldn't sleep. Images of John Carter's flushed face
hovered before his eyes. When he first came to County, all of the
staff kept mentioning how nice Carter was; how he was so good with
patients. Luka had many opportunities to observe the latter, but it
wasn't until they'd worked together on a trauma patient, that he saw
the sweetness and strength that formed the basis of Carter's
personality. Afterwards, they'd ended up at Magoo's for some much-
needed coffee.

Although Carter looked young, Luka discovered there was less than
five years difference in their ages. His colleague was chatty but did
not communicate anything of a personal nature. As John went on, Luka
found himself staring into those wonderful dark brown eyes.

"What is it? Do I have something the matter with my face?"

Luka managed to get out an excuse for his wool-gathering and breathed
a sigh of relief when John continued with his medical saga.

Now, he found himself awake at three in the morning longing for John
Carter. At least it made a change from the nightmares about home and
family. He'd been aware of his own bisexuality since his early teens.
But three years later, he met his Marije and fell hopelessly in love.
He'd been faithful to her and never looked at anyone else. After that
dreadful day, when the bombs were falling, he'd drifted. By the grace
of God, he hadn't been killed. He was all the more grateful because
with his despair feeding his carelessness, it would have been suicide.

When he came to the United States, he'd made as many breaks with the
past as possible. Instead of an apartment, he'd purchased a boat.
Instead of women, none of whom could compare to his wife, he'd dated
men. Unfortunately, he was never in one city long enough for these
relationships to evolve into something substantive. Then he got a
call from Chicago Memorial, that led to his temporary job at County.
County and John Carter.

"Dr. Kovac? You have a pedes case. Broken leg in Exam 3." Randi's gum
popped loud enough to provide percussion for a rock band. Picking up
the chart, Luka went into the room. Carter was already there talking
with the young boy and his mother.

"Good afternoon, I'm Dr. Kovac. Let's see what we have here. Looks
like you really did a number on that leg."

"That's just it, doctor. Kevin and I were on our way up the steps to
the El platform when he tripped and the leg just snapped. That's not
normal is it?"

"Well, Kevin could have aggravated a previous hair-line fracture. Has
your leg been bothering you recently?" The boy shook his head. "OK
we'll get some x-rays and see if we can't start making you feel
better.

"I've already had a full set of x-rays taken." Carter said. "I
thought it would save time."

"So it will." Luka smiled. "The sooner we see what's wrong, the
sooner we can begin fixing it."

When the x-rays came, John took them into the hall. Luka joined him
in front of the nearest light panel and switched it on. The break was
a bad one. Carter glanced at the film and sighed heavily. "Will you
say it, or will I"

"It looks like cancer." Luka agreed sadly. Order a full blood work up
and give Oncology the heads up. I'll go and prepare them. Damn." Luka
took the x-rays and returned to his patient, while John prepared to
get the blood needed for the lab. He worked quietly while Luka gently
explained that the x-rays indicated the presence of a serious
illness. Kevin and his mother took it well.

John went to the lab himself so that they wouldn't have a long wait.
Normally, it was first-come-first-served, but John's pleasant manners
had won him a few friends in the lab. "Ms. Suda, could you do me a
favor and process these right away? It's more than likely that this
patient has cancer. Dr. Kovac told the family of our suspicions and
I'd rather they didn't have to wait too long before we know for sure."

"No problem, Dr. Carter. Why don't you run these results up to the ER
while I get started. It shouldn't take much longer than twenty
minutes." The young Pakastani woman handed John a sheaf of folders.

"Thanks."

Ms. Suda was a good as her word. In less than half an hour, the
results came back confirming their diagnosis.

"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Davis, but Kevin's blood work shows he does
have cancer. I've called for a specialist to come in and examine him.
We'll admit your son and see what treatment is recommended. Do you
need to call anyone?"

"No, Dr. Kovac. I'll wait with Kevin until the specialist arrives.
Could we have a few minutes to ourselves?"

"Of course. Kevin? Let me know if the pain becomes worse. I'll be
right outside." Luka left mother and son and went into the hall. John
was standing there looking as if he could cry.

"You suspected this from the beginning didn't you?" Luka asked
quietly.

His young friend nodded and swallowed hard. "I hope they don't have
to wait too long."

Luka looked in on the family through the window. Mother and son were
praying the rosary. "At least they have their faith. That should make
this easier for them."

Dr. Melsher came up the hall. "What's going on?"

"Cancer. Carcinoma on the left tibia. Elevated white blood cell
count. The patient broke his leg by tripping on some stairs. No
exterior trauma. His mother said the leg just snapped." Luka
explained for the oncologist. "Here's the blood work, the x-rays are
inside."

"OK." Dr. Melsher went into the treatment room. Thirty minutes later,
he and Luka wheeled Kevin into the elevator and up to surgery. They
were going to amputate. When Luka came back downstairs he looked for
Carter but didn't see him. Returning to Exam 3 to get his
stethoscope, he found Carter sitting in there crying silently.

"Hey, what's the matter? Are you OK?"

"I'll be alright." Carter sniffed then blew his nose. "I know I
shouldn't let this get to me, but ..."

"You don't have to apologize for being human, Carter. He's the only
child of a widow. This is going to hit her hard. Why don't we go up
to the roof and get some air. Things are pretty slow right now."

John nodded and followed Luka to the elevator. By the time they
reached the roof, John had managed to calm himself. "Sorry for losing
it back there."

"It happens to all of us. They're nice people and their world just
turned upside down."

"I know. Do you think Kevin's mother took the news a little too well?"

"Maybe. I know it will take awhile for the truth to sink in. But you
saw them praying, they've already enlisted the aid of the most gifted
specialist I know. Somehow, I get the feeling that everything will
work out just fine for the both of them."

"Because they were praying?"

"Partially, probably. God answers prayers."

"Yeah, but sometimes the answer is 'no'." Carter's eyes teared up
again. He fished through his pockets looking for some tissue. He
looked up again to see that Luka had moved closer. His colleague
reached out gently and wiped the tears from Carter's cheek.

"Do you want to talk about it? I think there is more to this than the
patient we just admitted?" Luka asked gently.

"Yeah. You're right. My brother died of leukemia that was triggered
by a melanoblastoma on the same bone as Kevin. I never thought that
one day I'd be present when the same news was delivered to someone
else."

"You and your brother were close?"

"Very. I still miss him. His death kind of wrecked my family."

"I'm sorry, Carter. Pain and suffering are a part of life, but that
doesn't make it any easier to deal with."

"Tell me about it." John said grimly. "We'd better get back to work.
I'd rather not have to add Dr. Weaver's reprimands to what is rapidly
turning into a really shitty day."

The two men returned to the ER. Kerry noticed them leaving the
elevator and shook her head. News of Kevin's diagnosis had spread and
she was worried about Carter. One night, while they were still living
together, John had told her about his brother. She'd make time to
talk to him when his break came.

John got through the rest of his shift with no further problems. He'd
talked with Kerry and reassured her that he would be OK. Now, as he
waited for the El', he realized that Luka had actually touched him.
At the time, he'd been too upset and concentrating too hard on
remaining calm to appreciate that gentle touch. He smiled at the
memory and did not hear the footsteps coming up on his left.

"It's good to see you smiling." It was Luka. "Feeling any better?"

"A little." John looked up the track hoping his train would get there
soon."

"I checked in with Dr. Melsher before I left. He seemed pretty
optimistic about Kevin's chances."

"That's good. When are they going to start chemo?

"In two days. The surgery went very well, but they want to wait and
give Kevin the time to get a little stronger before beginning drug
therapy." Luka explained as a train entered the station. John
rejoiced when he saw that it was the train he'd been waiting for.

"I'll see you." John shouldered his backpack and moved toward the
edge of the platform. Luka followed him.

"Is this your train?"

"Yeah."

"Mine too." Luka smiled as they boarded and found seats. He was
acutely aware of the pressure and warmth of John's thigh next to his
own. They rode in silence. When his stop was announced, John stood
up. Luka did the same.

"Don't tell me. This is your stop." Carter asked.

''No. I'm inviting myself over for coffee. You look like you could
use some company."

"Well," Carter paused furious at his inability to come up with a
plausible excuse for sending Luka on his way. "OK." What the hell, it
was only for coffee. They could even sit in separate chairs.

All too soon, they'd reached John's building. The neighborhood had
seen better days, but enough of the original residents remained to
merit better than average police surveillance. There was even a
neighborhood improvement association, John explained.

When they got to John's apartment, Luka immediately went over to the
photographs on the bookcase. He picked up a large color shot of the
three Carter children. "This is your brother, no?"

John walked over to see. "Yes, with me and my sister. We were on our
summer vacation."

"He was very good looking." Luka returned the picture to its place.

"Better looking than I am."

"Don't be so negative, Carter. I believe you are also very handsome."
Luka smiled as his friend blushed to his hairline. "I am sure your
many girlfriends must have told you this."

"No. At least not recently. I'm not what I was."

"Rubbish. You've regained most of the weight you lost. You are
looking fine."

"Thanks. How do you like your coffee?" John hurried into the kitchen.

"In a cup." Luka called out as he removed his coat.

John scooped the Jamaican blend into the coffee machine and turned it
on. When he returned to the living room, Luka was still looking at
the photographs. "Who is this?"

"A former room-mate of mine, he was my best friend, actually." John
said quietly.

"Was? He moved away?"

"No, he died."

"I'm sorry." Luka replaced the photo. "This is a nice apartment.
Lot's of space. You should see the closet I'm living in. I can't wait
until I can get out of there."

John almost choked on his own saliva. Luka could have no idea how
much John wanted him to come out of his closet. Swallowing hard, he
went back into the kitchen to get their coffee. He hoped Luka would
sit down somewhere so he could find a nice safe, distant, seat of his
own. When he came back with the two mugs, he saw that he'd hoped in
vain. Sighing, he sat on the couch, purely out of habit. Needless to
say, Luka sat next to him.

"I've been meaning to thank you for taking the time to show me around
and helping me at work. This is the first place where I felt like a
full member of the team, even though I was only a temp when I
started."

"Don't mention it. It was no trouble." John wondered if he could find
some reason to go back to the kitchen and then take another seat
somewhere else, like Poughkeepsie.

Luka sipped his coffee as an awkward silence enveloped them. John
took a big swig of his own, and somehow managed to spill most of it
on his pants and shirt.

"Shit, that's hot!" He leaped up and raced into the kitchen. Luka
followed. John had stripped off his shirt and was putting it into the
sink when he heard a stifled laugh.

"I heard Chuny say that you were clumsy, but I didn't believe her."
Luka observed.

"Thanks alot." John's voice was tight. Why wouldn't the man leave?

"Go on and change your clothes. I'll make you another cup."

"That's OK. I don't really want any."

"Then what do you want?" Luka asked softly.

"Some privacy." John was painfully aware that the worst of his scars
was visible.

"They did a good job in the OR. A few more months and that should be
barely noticeable. I wish the surgeons who attended me had been as
good." Luka deliberately ignored John's request.

Without thinking John turned around. "You've had surgery?"

"Yes, in Croatia. A car bomb went off and the glass went everywhere.
Mostly through me. See?"
Luka lifted his sweater and shirt and twisted to the right. He had
not exaggerated. A large-sized irregular star-shaped pattern of
puckered skin showed where the surgeons had been at work. "It was
little better than a field hospital. Poor sanitation, hardly any
equipment, and fewer medicines."

"Was this before or after you lost your family?"


"I see you've heard about my past."

"I'm sorry. I asked Nurse Hathaway... Carol, I mean, I wanted to know
so I wouldn't say anything dumb. Too late, huh?"

"It's alright. I was wounded after they died. I was being stupid, and
almost got killed. In a way, nearly losing my life made me value it
again. I developed a post-operative infection and was in that
hospital for almost two months. I was one of the lucky ones. Most of
the patients didn't make it. Antibiotics were scarce. Because I was a
doctor, I received special consideration. Doctors were even scarcer."

John realized he was standing there in coffee-stained trousers and no
shirt. "Excuse me for a minute. He went into the bedroom to change.
While he was out of the room, Luka had started brewing a second pot
and had rinsed out John's shirt.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I didn't mind. You never answered my question."

"Huh?"

"What do you really want, Carter?"

John's resolve failed him. After Luka had been so open about his
past, there was no way a flippant remark could suffice. "I want my
old life back. I want Lucy running around, driving me nuts. I don't
want any more nightmares. I want to be trusted again. I hate feeling
like I'm under a microscope."

"What about companionship?"

"Are you joking, who'd want me now? A burned-out, cut-up drug addict?
I've seen the pitying looks, no thanks. Carters are supposed to
dispense charity; not receive it. I'll probably get a cat. As long as
it's fed, it won't care what I look like." John's voice was strained.
He had to find some way to get Luka out of there before he did
something to really embarass himself. There was nothing like the
truth, with a large dollop of emotional neediness, to make people
back off.

"I see. So I suppose if I did this..." Luka stepped over and kissed
Carter gently on the cheek. "You'd think I was feeling sorry for you."

"No, uhh, maybe. Why did you do that?" John's heart was hammering in
his chest.

"Because I didn't want to wait for you to work up the courage to kiss
me. Because, I've wanted you from the first moment I saw you. Because
I've loved you ever since that day we had lunch at Magoo's. Because I
think you are a beautiful human being in every sense of that word."

"How did you know?" John's voice was barely audible. His mind was
reeling, as his emotions went on a roller-coaster ride from the
depths of despair climbing through hopeful, wishful thinking, to the
brink of joyous belief.

"I asked Kerry Weaver. I did not want to embarass you by passing at
you."

"Actually, the phrase is 'making a pass'."

"Whatever."

"Wait a minute. I never discussed my sexuality with Dr. Weaver." John
and his guest sat down again on the couch.

"No you didn't. I asked her about you and she was very careful to
point out that she was guessing. It seems you left some unusual
videos in her machine a couple of times, and she pretended she hadn't
noticed. And then there's that endearing habit you have of talking in
your sleep. The heating vent was right above your bed and on certain
nights, she heard you declaring your love for 'Dennis'." Luka smiled
gently.

"Shit."

"Was she wrong?" Luka asked after John remained silent.

"No."

"Good." Luka leaned over and kissed John for the second time. A soft
chaste kiss on the lips. The sun had set and the room was dark. He
felt tears on John's face and once again wiped them away. "I have
surprised you, no?"

"Yes. It's... I thought you were... I figured you would never...".
The roller coaster containing John's feelings crested the rise and
flew off into the sunset.

"It's alright. I loved my wife and was faithful to her, but I
realized I was bisexual before we married."

"Oh. Have you ever...?"

Luka could feel the heat from John's blush. "Been with a man? Yes.
Have you?"

"No. I've been too scared. If my family had found out, they probably
would have thrown me to the wolves."

Luka's voice became thoughtful. "Then, I had better leave. I don't
want to do anything that will bring any more pain to your life, John
Carter. I mean that."

"Don't go, please? I don't care what my family thinks. They've
practically disinherited me already. Please stay." John tried to keep
the desperation from his voice. Why was it he always had to beg
people to love him?

"If you are sure."

"I'm certain. I've dreamed about this moment."

"I know." Luka laughed softly.

"How in the hell?"

"I told you, you talk in your sleep. I used to go up to your room
after your surgery while you slept. I heard you call my name too. It
was only a matter of time. I would have said something before, but
you went to Atlanta and I figured you didn't need any more
complications in your life. I don't know how I managed to keep from
intruding, but I thought it best to wait."

John moved into Luka's arms. "I'm not sorry you waited." He confessed
quietly. "I was pretty messed up. Confused, depressed... but not
anymore. I've pined after lovers, but I'd never taken the time to
analyze why I thought I was in love. With you, I took the time and
examined my feelings. Since I was convinced you couldn't love me,
there was no need to rush into anything."

"But I *do* love you."

"And I love you. I'll try not to be too clumsy."

"You're only clumsy when you're nervous." Luka chuckled. "Are you
nervous now?"

"Nope. Not a bit. Excited, happy, relieved, but not nervous."

"Good." Luka kissed John for the third time. Carter parted his lips
immediately, skillfully massaging Luka's tongue and lips with his
own. He opened his eyes to discover Luka looking right back at him.

"You don't close your eyes." John gasped when he caught his breath.

"Neither do you."

"I like to see what I'm doing."

"It's dark in here."

"So it is." John kissed Luka, softly at first, then more forcefully
as his arousal deepened.

"I think we should take this into the bathroom." Luka's voice was low
and husky. John shivered at the sound.

"Don't you mean the bedroom?"

"Eventually." Luka got up and turned on a lamp. "I find Americans are
very concerned with odors and smells. This is your first time, no?
So, we will take a nice long shower together. That way, neither you
nor I will be worried about cleanliness." Besides, I think you will
enjoy it."

John grinned. "It's down the hall to your left. Lead the way."

"I intend to." Luka reached for John's hand.

The bathroom was small, but well-appointed. It even had a bidet.
Luka's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, thinking this
European fixture could prove extremely entertaining in the future. He
began to undress John, removing the sweat shirt, kissing his neck and
chest, while fluttering his eyelids so that his lashes tickled. John
shivered again violently.

"You are cold, no?"

"I am hot, yes." John growled.

"Then I must cool you off." Luka bent to remove John's sweatpants,
revealing his nakedness. John's penis was perfectly in proportion to
the rest of him, long and slender but thickening rapidly. Luka knelt
and continued with his kisses. With a free hand he turned on the hot
water while tonguing the shaft of John's penis."

"Ohhh, that feels good. Don't stop." John whispered.

As if in response, Luka stood and kissed John's mouth. "Your turn."
He wanted to see what John would do."

Blushing hotly, John pulled Luka's sweater off and opened the top
buttons to his shirt then pulled that off as well. Luka's body was
beautiful and John eagerly began annointing the strong chest with
kisses of his own. He nipped and teased the dark nipples as he ran
his hands lightly up and down Luka's sides. Then he knelt and began
undoing the belt and zipper. Easing Luka's trousers down, John buried
his face in the dark curly hair he'd revealed. The man smelled
wonderful. John removed the last of Luka's clothing while kissing and
lapping at his skin. Ducking his head, he took the heavy testicles
into his mouth and began to hum.*

It was Luka's turn to shiver as the resulting vibrations reverberated
throughout his groin. John stood and smiled. "Do I pass the test?"

"This isn't a contest or an examination. Just do what feels good to
you. And yes, I loved it." Luka smiled as John's look of doubt
changed to a wide grin. Luka turned on the cold water, and when the
temperature was comfortable, he picked John up and stepped into the
tub.

John was in heaven. The feel of Luka's strong arms holding him was
wonderful. Instinctively, he tucked his head into the crook of Luka's
neck and began to gently suck the moistened flesh. Luka looked down
at the man in his arms and sighed. At last, he had John where he
belonged. He lowered his lover until they stood facing one another,
the water streaming over them. Luka reached for the soap and a wash
cloth but John stopped him.

"Let me." was all he said, taking the bar of glycerine soap into his
own hands. He worked up a lather and then proceeded to wash Luka
using his hands, pausing only to kiss him before moving onto another
section of his body. When he was done, he returned the soap to Luka
who followed suit. He softly kissed each of John's scars, bathing
them with his tongue. John quivered. For once, all the bad memories
refused to surface. He gave himself over to the marvellous sensations
coursing through him.

Luka shut off the water and got out of the tub. He turned to face
John holding a large bath sheet in his hands. John stepped into the
terry-lined embrace and put his arms around Luka's neck. "Tell me
this night will never end." He breathed. I've wanted you, loved you
for so long. This is like a dream. I never want to wake up."

"This night will end, my beloved; but it will be followed by a
million others just as good." Luka picked John up once more, still
enveloped in the towel, and carried him across the hall into the
bedroom placing him on the bed. He then turned on the bedside
lamp. "I like to see what I'm doing." Luka quoted, grinning. John
nodded, his pulse pounding.

Luka lay down beside John and kissed him. "I'm not going to do
anything to make you feel nervous or uncomfortable. If I accidentally
hurt you, tell me at once. This is your first time, and I want you to
remember only good things about it." John nodded again.

"First you need to know that I haven't been with anyone in over a
year. I was last tested for HIV three weeks ago and the results were
negative."

"The same goes for me." John said while stroking Luka's shoulder.

"Nevertheless, if you would feel more comfortable using condoms, I'll
understand and approve."

"I'd prefer it." John replied. "It's not that I don't trust you, it's
me. I received several transfusions during my surgery and I'd rather
not put you at risk."

"Thank you." Luka leaned in for another long slow kiss as he removed
the towel. The cool air had done its work on their erections, but the
diminishment was only temporary. Luka moved down on the bed and
enveloped John's penis with his mouth. The organ swelled under his
attentions which were vigorous. John moaned loudly twisting his
fingers in Luka's hair. After another twenty minutes of pure bliss,
he gasped. "Get a condom. I don't know how long I can hold off!"

Luka grinned. "I left them in the living room."

"There's no need to go that far. I have some in the nightstand.
Hurry."

Luka found the foil-wrapped packets, opened one and sensuously rolled
it down onto his lover. John arched his back as the voracious mouth
continued to work its magic. He came soon after, shouting Luka's
name. His cries were silenced as Luka moved back up and captured his
mouth in a fierce kiss.

"You enjoyed that, no."

"I enjoyed that, yes. Yes, yes, a zillion times yes.

Luka smiled down at his lover. John's responses bespoke a sensitivity
that boded well for the future. He softly stroked John's face and
chest as the younger man's breathing returned to normal.

"When do you have to be at work?" John asked. He could think again.

"Day after tomorrow. And you?"

"3:30 tomorrow afternoon."

"Good. We have plenty of time." Luka removed the condom and went to
throw it away. When he returned, he had his own backpack. John raised
himself onto his elbows to examine Luka. Apart from the scar on his
right side, Luka's skin was smooth, the color of the inside of a
freshly baked croissant. "Do you like what you see?"

"Yes. You're exactly as I imagined you."

"And did you imagine doing things to me?"

"Oh yeah. I rarely had a night with dry sheets since you came to
County."

"Tell me what you imagined."

"I'd rather show you." John said softly, blushing again. He sat up
and moved to the edge of the bed, taking Luka's semi-erect penis into
his mouth. He was startled when Luka pulled away.
"What's the matter?"

"John, what you are about to do takes some experience. I told you,
I'd rather not have you embarassed or hurt your first time." Luka
stroked the smooth face before him.

"Don't worry. Trust me." John replied.

"I do."

John went back to giving his first blow job. Luka was surprised,
Carter seemed to have a knack for it. His lips, tongue, and teeth
worked in concert; alternately brushing, bathing, and gently biting
the sensitive organ. Luka threw his head back and surrendered to the
exquisite pleasure. He actually groaned aloud when John withdrew his
mouth and reached for a condom. He tore the packet open and placed
the little circle of latex on the tip of Luka's penis after licking
it to make it stick. He then proceeded to take Luka into his mouth
again, using his lips and tongue to roll the condom down into place.
Securing the base of the latex sheath with his left hand, he slipped
his right hand between Luka's legs, gently brushing his testicles
with his fingers. His rhythmic sucking continued.

Luka gasped as the tip of John's slender index finger penetrated his
anus while the other fingers massaged his buttocks. John's head
barely bobbed as he let suction and his tongue do most of the work,
drawing Luka deeper inside. He turned his head slightly, inhaled
deeply, then really went at it. Luka clutched John's shoulders and
began to thrust, gently at first, then more forcefully. Just when he
thought it couldn't get any better, John started humming again. Damn,
the man must be part fish, he hadn't once stopped to breathe. After
what seemed like an eternity, Luka's climax slammed through his body,
waves of orgasmic pleasure radiated outwards from his groin. His
knees went weak. Finally, John pulled away, cupping the quivering
penis in his left hand as he stripped the condom off with his right.
He leaned forward and rubbed the slickened organ over his face and
throat, then lay back pulling Luka on top of him. He smeared a small
amount of semen onto his lips and kissed Luka. There wasn't even a
faint trace of the flavor of latex.

"Sweet heavens." Luka gasped when John stopped the kiss. "Are you
sure this is your first time?"

John grinned. "That was good, no?"

"That was incredible, yes."

"I've been practicing." John said simply.

"How?!" This was going to be good.

"Well, those videos weren't really any help. I mean unless you want
the raunchy stuff, most of the action is fake. So, I called into one
of the gay sex phone lines, and in my best British accent asked the
guys for some pointers. They were happy to oblige. Once you peel a
medium-to-large sized cucumber and sculpt one of the ends a little,
you've got something you can sink your teeth into. I don't think
Kerry ever figured out why I kept asking her to make cucumber salad."
John smiled.

Luka snorted, then laughed uproariously. He hugged John. "Thank you.
You've given me something to remember with joy for the rest of my
days. But what about your breath control?"

"Every summer, since I was six, my family went to our home in the
Bahamas. It's amazing what snorkeling will do for your breathing."

Luka laughed again as he stood up. "I'll be right back."

John lay back on the bed, relieved that his studious approach to sex
had paid off once again. No one had ever complained about his
technique before, and he had been determined to please Luka at all
costs.**

Luka returned with a chilled bottle he'd slipped into the freezer
while John changed clothes. He also had two champagne flutes. "I
didn't know if you are allowed to drink alcohol, so I hope this will
do. He opened the bottle of sparkling grape juice. Besides, I want to
remember everything about this night."

"I have the occasional sip of wine, but you're right. My therapist
put me on Prozac so, I haven't been drinking. My behavior has been
weird enough without adding the odd psychotic episode. However,
rather than drink that fake stuff, I usually just drink water or
juice."

"Try this." Luka poured a small amount of the burgundy-colored
beverage into John's glass. John sipped it, prepared for the usual
cloyingly sweet taste he'd encountered before. His eyes went wide.
The flavor was excellent.

"What is this? It tastes like a Merlot."

"For an American, you have a good palate. It's a blend of Merlot and
Chardonnay grape juices with apple cider and seltzer to add the fizz.
I got it at one of those fancy health food stores. The saleswoman
warned me that it doesn't keep well once it's opened. It will begin
fermenting pretty quickly, so if you don't want to get drunk, finish
the bottle immediately." Luka poured more for both of them then set
the bottle on the nightstand.

He sat down facing John and kissed him. "Here's to the lowly
cucumber. I'll never eat salad or visit the produce aisle again
without thinking of you. They clinked their glasses laughing.

"So what else is in store for me tonight?" John asked.

"Well, I had planned to introduce you to the feeling of anal
penetration, but I have a hunch, you've researched that too, no?"

John's face turned the color of ripe cherries as he nodded, his eyes
bright with glee.

"Don't tell me, the joy of cucumbers." Luka grinned.

"Nope, too soft. I went to one of those sex stores and bought this."
John reached for the other drawer in the nightstand, opened it and
withdrew a large vibrator. Luka's mouth fell open.

"You've actually managed to get that thing inside yourself?"

"Well, not at first. I started with a skinny, really flexible one and
worked my way up, so to speak." John replied.

"Shit! I take back what I said about this not being an examination.
You've been studying more than I did for my university courses.

"And had a lot more fun, too."

"Here I was all prepared to teach you, and I bet you could teach me."

"I doubt it. The physical part of a relationship can be wonderful,
but without your heart and mind involved, it doesn't really satisfy.
I dreamed of one day being able to do these things with you and have
you show me how marvellous it is when two people love each other."
John said quietly. With only two exceptions, I've never been to bed
with anyone I didn't feel love for. Going through the motions was
empty and made me feel... You see, nobody has ever really wanted love
from me, before." John's voice had sunk to a whisper.

"Oh my beloved..." Luka began, then followed with a stream of
Croatian phrases.

"What did you say?"

"That I am honored to be loved by you. Honored and proud, to think
you went to all this trouble to please me all the while believing I
couldn't love you back." Luka's voice broke and John embraced him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make *you* cry. I just didn't want to
disappoint you if and when the time ever came."

"Janaskja, there is no way under heaven you could ever disappoint me.
I was pleased to learn I would be the first man to make love to you
and give you that kind of pleasure. I'm overjoyed to find out I am
the first to want the precious gift of your love. Those who went
before me, must have been idiots not to see how beautiful and
wonderful you are." Luka took John's face in his hands and kissed him
deeply. "Tonight, I have been given a tremendous blessing. I thank
God for you." He pulled John into his arms.

"What did you call me?" John asked softly, his head on Luka's
shoulder.

"'Janaskja'. It's Croatian; an affectionate form of your first name."
Luka answered rocking them both. "It's what I always called you, in
my dreams."


Author's Notes:

* Thank you to Ms. Roberts for this delicious little detail. If you
want to find out who the recipient was and how it was appreciated,
read her wonderful story, "A Most Willing Student". You'll be glad
you did. KP

** Another thank you to WPAdmirer for this charming facet of John
Carter's character. If you are one of the few English-speaking Inter-
nauts who haven't read this author's amazing "Chicago" series, you
owe it to yourself. Bookmark that sucker. I know I did. KP

Although Luka could have easily made love to John again, he noticed
his lover's yawns and changed his mind.

"Why don't we get some sleep? The day was a rough one, no?"

John nodded drowsily and got up to turn down the bed. Luka removed
their wine glasses and the remains of the beverage. When he came back
to the bedroom, John was lying there, his eyes half closed. Luka got
into the bed and pulled up the sheet and blanket. John moved into his
arms, kissing him.

"Thank you for waiting for me to be ready. Thank you for loving me.
Thank you for everything." John sighed. "I've never been so happy."
He yawned. "Or so tired."

"Go to sleep, Janaskja. I love you with all of my heart." Luka
reached out and extinguished the lamp. John was already asleep.

* * * * *

Luka's extremely pleasant dream was interupted by John's cries for
help.

"Please, someone! She's bleeding and I can't stop it!"

Luka sat up and took John into his arms. "Wake-up, Janaskja. You are
having a bad dream. Shhh. I'm here with you, it's alright now."

John's eyes flew open, a look of terror distorting his features. "Oh
shit, I'm sorry. I guess we shouldn't sleep together, huh?"

"Don't worry about it. I have my own set of nightmares that wake me
and my next door neighbors. It's better to share them. You were
dreaming about Lucy?"

"Yes. It's like living it all over again: the blood, the smells, even
the sound of the party music coming under the door. John shivered
violently. "I wish I could stop having these dreams. Sometimes, I'll
go a whole month, and then they return, just as vivid as ever. It's
been over a year." John's voice was still shaky.

"It's been closer to four years for me, and yet, I still dream about
that awful afternoon. My therapist says it's survivor's guilt. I only
know, I'll be glad when I can be rid of it."

"You're seeing a therapist?" John was surprised.

"Yes. From time to time. I had to have someone I could discuss you
with." Luka kissed John on the top of his head. "You feel guilty too?"

"Not as much as before, but my sub-concious keeps right on and drags
me with it. If only I'd waited with her. If only I'd sent her
upstairs to see what was taking the Psych consult so long. If only..."

Luka laid down again, keeping John close in his arms. John could feel
the deep melodious voice against his own chest.

"It is the same with me. If only I hadn't left them. If only I'd come
home sooner. If only I'd taken them with me..."

"What happened that day, Luka?" John asked quietly. "Can you tell me
about it?"

"Of course. We were caught up in an unfortunate chain of events.
There were food shortages, but finally, some U.N. relief trucks got
through. I left my wife and daughters to go stand in the ration
lines. It took almost five hours to get one medium-sized sack of
powdered milk, bread, and tinned meat. I was coming up the street to
our apartment building when the bombs began to fall. I took shelter
in a doorway. All I could think about was not losing the food. It had
been two days since we'd eaten."

"Dear God." John whispered softly.

"The next wave of bombs struck my building. We lived three floors
from the roof. I saw bodies falling into the street and dropped the
food. When I got to the entrance, most of the front wall was gone.
Somehow, I made it up the stairs to our apartment. The door was still
there. I got it open and found the upper floors had crashed into our
rooms. My baby daughter, my Solje, had been killed in her crib by a
piece of masonry. I pray God she was asleep when it happened." Luka
paused, his throat was tight. John held him.

"My wife, Marije, and my older daughter Anja, had sustained severe
injuries. I had to choose which one I would treat. The damage was too
much for me to have tended them both. By a miracle, Marije was still
concious, although rapidly bleeding out. She told me to look after
the girls. I performed CPR on Anja, calling for help. There was no
one. She died without ever regaining conciousness. I remained with
them until someone came two days later." John touched Luka's face.
It was as wet as was his own.

"I'm so sorry. You must have been out of your mind with grief." John
tried to say something, anything that would ease Luka's pain. He felt
ashamed for making such heavy weather out of his own losses and tried
to apologize for this.

"No, Janaskja. Never try to quantify sorrow. Your brother, your
friend, Lucy... they meant as much to you as my family did to me. If
we try to decide who we love most, who we can afford to live without,
we become like the monsters who dropped those bombs. The love you
feel for your family and friends makes it easier to empathize with
and avoid causing pain to those you don't know. If I didn't love my
wife, then I wouldn't, now, be able to love you." Luka smiled in the
dark as John gently wiped his face.

"Listen to me, beloved. You will never have to apologize to me for
being sensitive or caring. My grandmother used to say that tears were
God's way of washing our souls. That you find it easy to cry, is one
of the things I love most about you.

"My grandfather used to hit me if I cried in front of him." John
murmured into Luka's neck.

"Then I feel sorry for him. To strike a child for crying is
unforgiveable. He'll wake up one day and find that no one will be
willing to shed tears for him. But I shouldn't criticize. He is part
of your family."

"Criticize all you like. It's not as if he'll ever think much of me."
John said bitterly. "He didn't even come to the hospital when I was
attacked."

"I know." Luka said simply. He couldn't believe anyone could be so
cold as to not love a child or want to comfort them when they were
hurt. Wrapping John tighter in his arms he closed his eyes and
silently vowed never to abandon this gentle heart that found it so
easy to care for and about others.

* * * * *

Habit woke John early. Luka was still fast asleep, curled on his
side. John lightly stroked the smooth back and was rewarded when Luka
woke, smiling. "Good morning Janaskja. You had a good rest?"

John grinned. "Yes, and you?"

"I heard a jet taking off in the living room, which circled for hours
in the hall, but otherwise..."

"Oh fuck. I forgot to mention that I snore."

"Oh, so that's what it was. I thought we had somehow moved closer to
O'Hare."

"It's that bad?" John was deeply mortified. So much for romantic
evenings snuggling together before falling asleep.

"No. I was teasing you. Remember, I used to watch you as you slept.
Apart from having to keep the chart from vibrating off the end of
your bed, the nurses thought it was most amusing." *

"Why did I have to fall in love with someone who's perfect." John
sighed, only half joking.

"Don't worry Janaska, neither of us had much to eat yesterday. Let's
just say I too am capable of making noises in my sleep. The bad part
is you will probably have to purchase a gas mask. The good part is
you can fire your exterminator. My landlord usually feeds me a couple
of meatball subs and backs my ass up to the nearest ventilator shaft.
The rats and roaches can't leave fast enough."

John fell over laughing. "I guess nobody's perfect." He said smiling.

"Nope. Although, you're the closest I've come to it in a long while."
Luka grinned. "I'm starved, is there anything in here to eat?"

"Follow me. Breakfast in 20 minutes." John scooted up the hall
wearing nothing but a happy look.

By the time Luka reached the kitchen, John had started the coffee and
was cutting up some fruit. Luka hugged him from behind and John
turned to face him. As Luka bent to kiss him, John arched away.

"What's wrong?"

"I haven't brushed my teeth."

"I know. I happen to like the way you taste." Luka kissed him deeply
savoring the smoky flavor of John's tongue.

"Uhmm, that was nice." John slowly came back to earth.

"Can I help you?"

"Sure. There's bread in the fridge. Why don't you make us some toast,
while I finish the fruit."

True to his word, their meal was ready in the time John stipulated.
Coffee, fresh fruit with dry muesli sprinkled on top, toast and
raspberry jam. In unspoken agreement, they took their plates and the
coffee pot back into the bedroom. Both men were famished and the food
disappeared quickly. They had begun to collect the dishes when there
was a knock at the door.

"Were you expecting anyone?" Luka asked.

"No." John grabbed his robe and went to see who it was. He opened the
door and was surprised to see Kerry standing there, gasping as if she
had just run a race.

"Damn, Carter. Couldn't you afford a building with an elevator?"

"Come in, Dr. Weaver. Is something wrong?"

"I was worried. You seemed kind of low when you left yesterday."

"Well I feel much better now. Actually, I was on my way out..."

"John, where on earth did you hide my backpack?" Luka called out.

"It's under the bed." Too late, John remembered Kerry's presence and
turned to face her blushing.

A slow grin lit up Kerry Weaver's delicate features. "I was going to
ask you for a cup of coffee, but I can see that you've better things
to do."

"Ahhh, Uhhm, geez Dr. Weaver." John's face was the color of bricks.

"Lighten up, Carter. I was the one who gave Luka the go ahead, didn't
he tell you?"

"Yeah. It's just I hadn't thought about telling anyone else yet."

"Of course not. Get to really know each other first. Just don't
forget, I'm invited to the wedding."

"What wedding?" Luka came into the room wearing another towel.

"Yours and John's." Kerry teased.

"Sounds good to me." Luka grinned.

"I think you'd better put your head between your knees, Dr. Carter."
Kerry observed John's look of total panic.

"I'll be fine. Excuse me." John ran out of the room. He made it to
the toilet just in time. Flushing, he bid farewell to at least half
of his breakfast. A few minutes later, Luka came in and sat on the
tub.

"Kerry's gone. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I need a cigarette." John avoided answering the question.

"They're in the kitchen. Come on John, I'm not angry. Merely curious."

"OK." John shuddered and retched once more. Luka got up and held him
as more of his breakfast went on it's way to Lake Michigan.

When his stomach finally settled, they headed for the bedroom. John
sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes on the floor. "I'm sorry, Luka.
It's all catching up to me. I know I told you I didn't care what my
family thinks and I don't. But at the same time, I know how they can
act when they are displeased. I know of at least two occasions when
my grandfather offered people money to dump me. I had a vision of us
lying in bed and the INS coming in to deport you. I guess I panicked."

"I see." Luka said slowly. "Then you're not ashamed for being in love
with me?"

"Oh God, no! I'd like nothing better than to issue those little
engraved announcement things telling everyone we're a couple. It's my
family I'm afraid of. I don't want them trying to mess this up." John
looked at Luka fearing the worst. Luka's grave expression did nothing
to reassure him.

"I have a citizenship hearing coming up in about six weeks." Luka was
thinking aloud. "At that time, I should be accepted. In another eight
months or so, I'll be a citizen of this country. Why don't we keep
our secret until then? After that, your family can do their worst. I
won't be going anywhere. Does this sound like a good idea?"

"Wonderful. Now, all we'll have to worry about is you getting fired."
John said bitterly.

Luka cupped John's chin in his right hand, smoothing back the soft
brown hair with his left. "Janaskja, I may leave County, but I'm
never leaving you. Besides, if they're so worried about their
reputation, that gives us an advantage. If they leave us alone, *we*
won't place our wedding announcement in Out magazine, or the Village
Voice, the Washington Blade, or be guests on In The Life..."

"You forgot Jerry Springer." John smiled ruefully.

"No. We're too tame for that show, unless I get you pregnant. But if
you keep losing breakfasts, we just might have a shot."

John giggled, then laughed aloud. "I was being silly, no?"

"You were concerned for me, yes."


Author's Notes:

* It' takes an observant writer like WPAdmirer to notice Mr. Wyle's
rather small nostrils and run with it. Thanks. KP

John cleaned up their breakfast litter giving Luka time in the
bathroom. His lover emerged, still dressed in the towel. "Well, you
won't have any bugs in there for at least three weeks." He grinned
like a naughty school boy. "How's about a morning shower?"

"I'd thought you'd never ask." John laughed, snatched off the towel
and ran down the hall. Luka caught up with him in the bathroom and
obtained his revenge by stripping the robe from John's body. He
wrapped his strong arms around his slender lover kissing him softly.

"Good morning, Janaskja." Luka murmured through the kiss, making his
lips vibrate against John's.

"Uhmfl umph." John's head was spinning. When they broke apart, he
leaned on Luka to steady himself.

"Are you OK?"

"I'm feeling great. You take my breath away. It's like being on an
elevator: my knees go weak and my stomach tries to exit through my
throat."

"Well if you have middle-ear problems, as your doctor, I recommend
that we take a bath instead. Less chance for you to slip and hurt
yourself." Luka pulled up the stopper control and turned on the water.

"Be right back." John headed for the hall closet. He returned with a
bottle of bilious green liquid and some more towels. He uncapped the
bottle and poured a generous amount into the water. The scent of ripe
apples filled the room.

"So that's how you do it." Luka's dark eyes glowed.

"Do what?"

"Manage to smell so good, even in midst of all the shit we work
with."*

"You must have a tremendous olfactory system if you can smell me over
the pus, vomit, feces, urine..."

"Yeah. I get the picture. No it was shortly after I started working
at County. They'd brought in an MVA and to shift the patient, I was
standing right behind you. When you straightened up, I could smell
apples."

'You remembered that?" John was amazed.

'You obviously have." Luka countered as he shut off the water.

"Yeah, I should think so. It was first time I ever intubated someone
with a lethal weapon in my possession."

"Huh?"

"I had an erection so hard you could have used my cock to inflict
blunt trauma." John smiled at the memory. "Thank God for lab coats."
John laughed as he stepped into the tub.

The warm water felt marvellous. He scooched forward as Luka took a
seat behind him. He leaned against the back of the tub, pulling John
into his arms who let out a little sigh of contentment that was music
to his lover's ears. They sat for a while, saying nothing. John
tilted his head back to look up at Luka. "I love you."

Luka kissed John's forehead. "I love you also."

"How do say 'I love you' in Croatian?" John asked after a moment's
pause.

"JA ljubav te." Luka sounded as if he were purring.**

John repeated the phrase three times.

"You have a good ear." Luka nibbled on John's left lobe.

"I'll need it, if you eat that one."

"Are you adding Croatian to your curriculum?"

"Enough to tell you how much you mean to me for the next eight months
or so." John smiled.

"You're planning to get rid of me after that?"

"No. Once you are a citizen, I will shout loudly, in my best
American, that I love you and that I'm the luckiest man on earth. But
until then, I can quietly tell you at work, or the supermarket, or in
the street, or on the El'... and it will be our secret."

It was Luka's turn to emit a contented sigh. He sat up and began
scooping the bubbly water over John's back and sides while tonguing
the back of his neck. John, in turn began stroking the long well-
muscled legs that bracketed his own. They left the tub as the water
cooled, stopping only to grab towels as they dripped their way into
the bedroom.

"I'm ready for my next lesson, Professor Kovac." John's erection
agreed with him.

"Hand me my backpack." Luka panted, his penis pointing at his chin.

John retrieved it from the floor and was not surprised when Luka
grasped his buttocks.

Luka fished two tubes of lubricant from the inner compartment, and
some condoms. "Lie down, on your back, please."

"Certainly." John complied quickly, his breathing ragged from arousal
and anticipation.

Luka opened a condom and rapidly rolled it into place then applied a
handful of lubricant to himself. "Lift your legs, Janaskja."

John placed his long feet on the mattress.

"Rosebud." Luka whispered.

'"What?"

"Nothing." Luka chuckled as he bent to apply more lubricant to John's
anus. When he was satisfied that the area was properly prepared, he
bent his knees slightly and guided his penis into that warmest of all
the body's orifices. John lifted his hips a little and Luka was half
way home.

"Does this feel OK?"

"Oh yeah. All the way, Luka, I want to be filled with you."

Luka's heart skipped several beats as he gazed down at John. Two
brown eyes, so like, and yet unlike his own, gazed back at him filled
with a look of joy and arousal that rendered their owner beautiful.
Luka gently pressed forward and lifted John's long legs so that they
were draped over his forearms.

"Please, Luka. I want to feel you moving inside me." John's voice was
hoarse.

Luka withdrew half way then slowly re-entered his lover. He didn't
want to climax too soon. He fell into a lazy slow rhythm that had
John muttering incoherently. Luka picked out the word "faster" and
few minutes later, "harder" was added to the mantra. He picked up the
pace when he saw the pre-ejaculate seeping from John's penis. John
had closed his eyes, his head was thrashing from side to side. He
reached toward Luka's arms, shouting his name, begging him to go
faster.

Luka's own state of arousal compelled him to oblige. He rammed into
John, sending himself over the edge. When he could breathe again, he
opened his eyes to see that John had come as well, without being
touched. The look on his lover's face was one of repletion and peace.
John's smile when he finally opened his eyes was incandescent with
wonder and love. "Thank you." he whispered. 'Ohh, thank you."

"You're most welcome." Luka replied, sensing that John's use of
polite English belied an emotional state where volumes were
communicated in very simple words. He withdrew carefully and turned
to dispose of the condom.

"No, wait." John sat up. He slipped off the condom and once again,
rubbed Luka's semen onto himself. He then stood and kissed Luka
trying to suck the air from his lungs. Once again the wonderful
sensation of free-falling enveloped him. "I'm yours." John said
quietly, yet with forceful conviction. "There will never be anyone
else." He inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent of their mingled
seed. "I am all too human, and will probably make mistakes that might
cause you pain; but I promise that I will never, by intent,
commission, or ommission, harm or hurt you. John kissed Luka again
putting his arms around his neck. "JA ljubav te."


Author's Notes:

* Thank you again, WPAdmirer! KP

All too soon, John had to leave for work where he would be without
Luka until he came home just before 3 AM. He gave Luka a spare key to
the apartment, grabbed his backpack and headed to the El station.

For once, the fates were kind. Carter's shift was too busy for him to
betray his new-found elation. He did find it difficult to keep his
feet on the floor when he walked. The true test would come when they
were on duty at the same time. John had been told that his eyes
telegraphed his feelings and he was worried that they would send up
the equivalent of sky rockets whenever he looked at Luka.

When he reached home, he let himself in quietly not wanting to
disturb his lover who was due at work in four hours.

"Janaskja? Is that you?"

"No it's Keanu Reeves, I've come to read the meter." John called in
response.

"The meter's probably in the basement. Do me a favor, if you see this
incredibly handsome young doctor while you're on the staircase, send
him up. I'm in desperate need of medical attention." Luka's voice
sounded strong.

John headed for the bedroom and stood in the doorway surprised at the
transformation. Small votive candles in red, purple, and clear
holders glimmered everywhere. A dark green silk comforter adorned the
bed. Luka sat naked, next to a tray containing a bowl of pink
rosebuds, a bowl of condoms, and a tube of lubricant. He smiled at
John's open-mouthed astonishment.

"Luka, you didn't have to do all this." John finally found his voice.

"No, I suppose I didn't. However, I wanted to celebrate the first
time you came home to me." He said simply.

John was out of his shoes and socks before he reached the bed. He
kissed Luka like a starving man. "I missed you as soon as I left the
apartment. I couldn't wait to get home and see you, touch you, and
love you like this." John pulled off his remaining garments. He was
hard. "Now, before I prescribe treatment, I need to know about your
symptoms." John said in his best bedside manner as he began stroking
Luka's throat and chest.

"Well, Dr. ..."

"Dr. Carter."

"Well Dr. Carter. Lately I have been feeling flushed. It's difficult
for me to concentrate on my work. I feel empty inside. I need
something to fill this space in my life, in me. Do you think you can
help me Doctor?"

"Of course I can. I've been recently, ahhm, boning up on material
that will enable me to treat you successfully. There is no reason,
you can't have your first session now. I see someone has already
provided the equipment I'll need." John smiled as he picked up a
condom and the lubricant. "Since the nurse has been called away, I'll
get you ready for your exam." It was hard keeping a straight face.

'"Will it hurt, Dr. Carter?"

"No, not unless you want it to. I read in a medical journal that some
people derive beneficial effects from intense stimulation of the
pain/pleasure centers."

"I do not believe I am one of them." Luka stated simply.

"Then I will be very gentle." John replied softly. "Please get up
onto your hands and knees." John put on a condom and began to apply
the lubricant to himself. He then squeezed a large amount into his
palms and warmed it with his breath. With his right hand, he smeared
the gel into Luka's anus and the surrounding area. When he finished,
he transferred the gel on his left hand to the first two fingers of
his right and inserted them gently into the narrow opening.

"You are very tight. Does this hurt?"

"No, although I feel an increase in pressure. I'd like to feel more."

John withdrew his fingers and moved closer, going onto his knees
behind Luka. "I am now going to insert the examination tool. You will
feel additional pressure as I begin to probe with it." Making a
mental note to wear a lab coat: a fully buttoned, one-size-too-large
lab coat for all his future rectal exams, John slowly entered Luka
whose coarse breathing indicated he was more than ready for him. He
had barely managed to sink the first couple of inches when Luka
suddenly pushed back against John's penis.

"Thank you, Dr. Carter. I feel full. The emptiness is gone."

"That's excellent. I will begin probing now." John gasped as Luka's
anal muscles clamped down then relaxed again.

"Your retensive reflexes are in very good order...", was the last
thing John said aloud as he began to thrust forward holding onto
Luka's waist. He took his time, wanting to provide a thorough
examination. He'd never experienced anything like this. Luka's
tightness and heat made it extremely difficult to concentrate on
maintaining a steady slow rhythm. John reached forward and fondled
Luka's penis, moving faster. Luka was moaning continuously as John
increased his pace. The sensations were pushing him closer and then,
without warning, Carter climaxed, shuddering with the force of his
passion. He could feel Luka's semen coating his fingers.

The two men collapsed, gasping, onto the towel Luka had placed on the
bed. They lay there, recovering from an experience neither of them
would soon forget.

"That was wonderful, Janaskja. I've never been loved like that
before." Luka's voice was muffled by the comforter.

"I'm glad you liked it with me."

"No, I meant, I've never done it this way before." Luka explained.

"You mean, I'm the first?" John was surprised and pleased.

"Yes, and I will never do this with anyone else but you, ever." Luka
pushed them onto their sides, with John still inside him. "I can't
imagine there'd be anyone else who could do it as well, and I have no
intention of ever finding out." He turned his head to meet John's
lips. They kissed gently, neither man wanting to disturb the warm
glow. It was John who moved first, remembering that Luka would be due
at work in just a few hours.

He carefully withdrew and went to dispose of the condom. He returned
with two warm wash cloths that smelled of apples. Silently, he
cleaned his lover and himself, pausing every now and then to kiss
him. He set the tray on the floor and began to extinguish the
candles, Luka's eyes following his every move. When he came back to
the bed, he bent to blow out the red candle on the nightstand.

"No, leave that one burning." Luka asked.

Nodding, John got into the bed wrapping himself around his partner.
Luka pulled up the soft quilt and kissed John's cheek. There were no
nightmares for either of them. They slept peacefully.

Luka yawned for what seemed the thousandth time in two hours.

"I'm not boring you with this patient's history am I?" Dr. Cleo Finch
asked.

"No, please excuse me. I didn't get much rest last night. Had Carter
seen Luka's smile, he would have turned eight shades of red. Luka
focused on the chart before him. "You're right. It's probably
diabetes. This poor soul will not be the first who chose food over
paying to see a physician or buying medication."

"What makes you think this patient's income is poor?" Cleo asked. She
seemed upset with him.

"Her prescription-buying pattern." Luka said simply. "She purchases
high blood pressure meds at the first of every third month, but only
gets enough for 30 days. She's a college graduate. I'm sure she
realizes this is insufficient. "Besides, her blood work indicates
moderate malnutrition. She is probably too proud to ask for financial
help. Her glucose level by itself might be attributed to inadequate
nutritional balance. However, combined with the presence of unhealed
wounds, it points to un-treated, and probably undiagnosed diabetes."
Luka explained and yawned again.

Dr. Finch was silent for a moment. "Since when did you become so
familiar with the conditions of African-Americans?"

"I'm not. However, Dr. Carter has been informally briefing me since I
started working here." If Luka hadn't known better, he could have
sworn Cleo was looking for an argument. "Look, I realize I'm
relatively new to this country. I know I have a lot to learn. I
wasn't making any generalizations regarding Ms. MacKenzies. I merely
read her chart and paid attention to the history you provided. Carter
says when you make pre-judgements about patients, you're being lazy
and could end up killing someone."

"I'll have a nephrologist check out her kidney function and if that
confirms this diagnosis, get her started on insulin. If she's lucky,
dyalisis won't be needed." Cleo took the chart and headed back to her
patient.

Luka sighed. He was more aware of prejudice and bigotry than some
might think. The so-called "ethnic cleansing" underway in his country
was nothing more than race hatred dressed up on parade. At least he'd
managed to mention John's name twice without his voice betraying him.
Their divergent schedules were proving to be a blessing in disguise.

They'd been together for almost seven months and were still very much
in love. Although, he continued to pay rent on his efficiency, Luka
spent all of his time at John's apartment. Neither of them socialized
much outside work with their colleagues, so no one could know that
Luka had moved his linens and clothes to John's place. They went
through alot of towels. The sheets didn't fare too well either.

Luka's citizenship hearing had gone well. In another six weeks he
would join 49 other immigrants in an auditorium at City Hall and take
the oath making him an American. He and John would "come out" of
their private world and then the fun could really begin. Kerry Weaver
had promised to cook dinner for the couple at her house and hinted
that a surprise gift would be presented to them. Luka hoped it would
be more towels, or a gift certificate to their neighborhood
laundromat.

When Luka got to the apartment, he found John asleep on the couch,
wearing Luka's latest gift to him, a red silk caftan similar to the
ones worn by Islamic men in his country. Luka turned off the
television and bent to kiss John. He was startled to find two brown
eyes looking back at him.

"I thought you were asleep."

"I was. I heard your key in the door and woke up. Are you hungry?"
John sat up, his hair tousled from the cushions. He'd been letting it
grow.

"No. Just tired. How was your day?" Luka shrugged out of his coat,
yawning.

"I got the laundry done, and went to the store." John got up to help
Luka undress. "Come on, you're fading fast. As your doctor, I
recommend a quick shower and then bed."

Luka grinned at John's suggestion.

"No, I mean you shower alone then we can go to sleep. Hop to it,
Sascha."

"Oooh I love it when you give orders." Luka yawned again wondering
how his jaw had managed to stay hinged up to now. The shower revived
him. Smiling, he towelled dry and went into the bedroom. John had
turned back the bed and was seated on it.

"Come over here. Let me dry your hair." Luka sat on the edge of the
bed as John took the towel and rubbed it vigourously over Luka's
head. "There you are. Now get into bed." Luka leaned in for a kiss
which was returned. When he tried to fondle John's crotch, John
quickly moved out of reach.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Nope. You've been doing everything right. It's just you've been
doing way too much of it." John said simply. "If you checked onto a
flight with those bags under your eyes, you'd have to pay for the
extra weight."

"Now you're telling me my looks are fading." Luka pretended to pout.

"Wrong again. Your love for me put them there. My love for you is
going to remove them." John was serious. "Listen, I don't want you
getting sick or stepping in front of a bus because you're too tired
to see straight. You've told me many times that we're as good as
married. Well, now I get to play nagging husband. For the next four
days, you are going to get some rest and by that I mean rest. No all-
night replays of the gay games."

"Yes, husband." Luka said meekly.

"And if you behave yourself, I may let you have that Chicago sausage
with the white sauce you love so much, as a breakfast treat."

Ohh, I'll be good as gold." Luka smiled. "Now, may I kiss my husband
good night?"

"That's allowed." John grinned back and put his arms around Luka's
neck.

"John?" They were in bed, the lights off. Red and orange neon from
the all-night convenience store across the street flashed on the
walls and ceiling. "What brought all of this on?"

"I love you." John said quietly. "And I know that you love me. I
realize that when we first met, I was still a basket case, but that's
done with. I kinda figured you were reluctant to slow down in our sex
life because I'd think you didn't care as much as you did before. You
were wearing yourself out trying to prop up an ego that's strong
enough to stand on it's own. Believe it or not, this way of being
together means just as much to me, if not more, than the sex." John
turned over and put his arms around Luka. "Go to sleep, Sascha. Even
God took a day off."

"You are wonderful, do you know that?"

"Yep. This sexy doctor at work keeps telling me the same thing." John
kissed Luka's cheek. "Sleep well, beloved. You've more than earned
it."

* * * * *

Thanks to John's day off, they went into work together the next
morning. Luka stopped off at Magoo's for coffee so they wouldn't be
seen arriving at the same time. When he reached the locker room, John
had already suited up and gone. Opening his locker, Luka bent to
retrieve a small envelope that tumbled out. There was no address,
only the letters "Jlte" on the flap. Smiling, Luka opened it. John's
tight, neat handwriting covered both sides of the single sheet inside.

"Beloved, just in case *your* ego needs propping, I decided to put on
paper, for the record, how I feel about you and about us. I loved you
from the moment I first saw you standing in the hall, talking with
Kerry. I desired you, yes; and I always will. But you took hold of my
heart long before you touched my body. You waited an entire year,
wanting me, yet unwilling to add your modest needs to the burdens I
was carrying. If you do nothing else for me, that one act of caring
and concern proves beyond any self-doubts I could manufacture, the
strength and depth of your love.

"I've held you when nightmares invaded your rest. You've comforted me
when my own griefs threatened to return me to the depression that
nearly cost me everything. You are my refuge and strength, to
paraphrase the liturgist. It will be a source of never-ending joy to
me to be your anchor in times of need. You are the first person who
truly believes my love is worth having. By giving it to you, I am
receiving a universe of exultation in return. Janaskja."

For the rest of the day, Luka found it extremely difficult to keep
from pulling John's letter out of his breast pocket and re-reading
it. He felt as if he wanted to shout his love out loud. Only his
worry about John's family kept him silent.

Although most of John's nightmares were about the attack and Lucy's
death, there were others that John dismissed as "old business" and
changed the subject. The love-making following these dreams took on a
frenzied quality as if John needed the sex to obliterate the
memories. One night, Luka had insisted on learning what was the
matter. Unknowingly, he bunched his fists and his jaw clenched at the
memory of John's revelation.

"Child abuse comes in many forms, Luka." John had said hesitantly,
his eyes focused on the ceiling. "It's not just being hit or sexually
molested. There's also psychological abuse." John raised himself on
one elbow when Luka gasped. "I wasn't hit often... unless I cried. I
was never molested, but I did put up with years of being told what a
failure I was and how I should have died instead of my brother."

"This was your grandfather?" Luka had wanted to kill the old man.

"Yes. That's why I said go ahead and criticize him. I got heaping
helpings of his negative views about me." John kissed Luka and
smiled. "I told you I took time to examine my feelings for you,
thinking they couldn't be returned. Well, I also spent a lot of that
time talking with my therapist. I 'came out' to her, so to speak. I
was afraid my attraction to men was a misplaced desire to try and win
my grandfather's acceptance."

Luka held his breath. He'd feared the same thing. "What did your
therapist say?"

"That our sexuality didn't work that simply. She cautioned me about
entering into relationships with people that sub-conciously reminded
me of the old coot, thinking I could somehow thaw out an emotionally
distant person. However, she told me my attraction to men was
something I was born with, and I wasn't to worry about what caused
it. For a while, I tried to tell myself I loved you only because you
couldn't love me in return. I've done that before. But after nearly a
year, I decided that I loved you because you're a loveable person.
So, I began putting out feelers to other hospitals. I'd planned to
transfer; leave County and try to get over you in time." John
shivered at the thought of how close he'd been to never knowing
Luka's love.

"It's funny. It's as if my dreams told me to wait for you." John went
on thoughtfully. "In my dreams you were just like you are now, kind,
loving, and very sexy; but the best part was that you loved me. My
guardian angel must have sent them to keep me from missing out on the
best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Dr. Kovac?" Luka came back to the present with a shudder. He'd been
so close to losing John. Sighing, he followed Dr. Greene down the
hall to the trauma room.

John spent most of his day bouncing from one patient to the next.
Right after his break, he was called into a trauma, Luka was already
there. The paramedic called out the bullet on a young African-
American male with multiple gun-shot wounds. They shifted the patient
and went to work.

"Damn, there's a hole in the left ventricle." Carter said, gently
inserting his finger once they'd opened the patient's chest. "Shit,
no bullet! We've got to get this guy upstairs now!" Carter straddled
the patient, his finger holding back the escaping blood. Luka was
right alongside, as they rode to the elevators and the waiting
surgeons. When they got upstairs, Dr. Romano and his team were ready.

"Carter, what in the hell do you think you are doing?" Romano barked.

"Keeping this patient's heart from exploding! Left ventricle pierced;
ascending 45-degree angle from lower anterior quadrant to upper
posterior. Spray me with something and get us in there! If I move my
finger, he'll die! Move! Now!

After standing immobile for a split second, Romano entered the OR.
Some minutes later, an extremely distraught woman came up the
hall. "Are you a doctor?" She asked Luka.

"Yes, ma'am."

"They told me downstairs that my son was brought up here; that he'd
been shot."

"Andrew Carlton?"

"Yes."

"They just took him into the operating room." Luka said gently.

"Oh my God! What happened? I told him working at that rec' center was
dangerous, but he wouldn't listen. Kept telling me those kids needed
him... and now one of the little bastards has shot my son!" She broke
down. Without thinking, Luka placed his arms around her. After a few
minutes, she calmed somewhat. Luka walked her over to a row of the
ubiquitous plastic chairs and they sat down.

"Your son's injuries were serious, but he's being worked on by the
best surgeon in this hospital." Luka said. Mrs. Carlton nodded. Luka
glanced around, hoping a nurse would come. Thirty-odd minutes later
he looked up to see John, still wearing the bloody scrubs, emerge
from the operating suite. He was grinning broadly. His expression
changed when he saw Luka.

"Dr. Carter, this is Andrew Carlton's mother."

"Mrs. Carlton. I just left your son. The surgeons will be at least
another two hours. But the most serious injury has been mended. Now,
they are repairing blood vessels that were grazed by the other
bullets. When I left, Andrew's heart had a steady rhythm. His blood
pressure is quite low, but that's to be expected. He lost a lot of
blood. They are replacing it. I can't make you any promises. Your
son's condition is grave, but when I left, it was stable."

"When can I see him?" Mrs. Carlton had pulled herself together.

"Well not for at least four hours, maybe longer. The nurses will get
you suited up and wait with you until it's time.

"I'll be praying for you and your son." Luka said patting Mrs.
Carlton's hands as he got up.

"I will, too." Carter agreed softly, smiling at Luka over the woman's
head.

Finally, a nurse appeared. Luka introduced Mrs. Carlton and explained
the situation. The nurse escorted her to the waiting room. As the two
women left, Carter sighed.

"I do believe you shocked Dr. Romano." Luka observed drily.

"I wish he'd cut out that bantam weight attitude." Carter frowned as
they entered the elevator.

"You saved that young man's life."

"In more ways than one." Carter was still frowning.

"What's wrong?" Luka pushed the button for their floor.

"You didn't recognize his mother?"

"No. Is she famous?"

"Not really, she's a City Alderman... she's been on Oprah a couple of
times. Romano made some very nasty remarks about wasting his skills
on some gang-banger who'd only end up shot dead within the year. I
shudder to think what would have happened had I not been there to
point out the clothes we cut off the guy did not fit that profile."
John said this last word as if it tasted nasty.

Luka whistled. "I don't think you should say anything to him. Let him
exercise his charm on Alderman Carlton and get what he deserves."
Luka smiled anticipating the city's reaction to Romano's offensive
manner.

"Nope, O vengeful one. That would be bad for County." They left the
elevator to find an extremely upset Mark Greene waiting for them.

"Do you mind telling me what you two have been doing for the past
forty minutes?"

"Damage control." Carter said simply.

"What?"

John related what had happened then floored them all. "Dr. Greene,
you should call up to the OR and alert Dr. Romano that the patient
he's treating could be worth quite a bit of money to this hospital. I
don't know which committees his mother sits on or chairs, but if the
surgeons do their jobs right, you can bet she'll be talking to the
folks who control our budget." John grinned. "Just think, Romano gets
the credit for a great save. We get the credit for caring equally for
all patients who come through the door, and just maybe, an increase
in the ER budget." John finished.

"How do you figure that?" Both men wanted to know.

"Because it's on the video of the procedure, that our quick action
kept him alive until the surgeons could operate." John explained.

"I'll go make the call now." Mark sprinted to the nearest house phone.

"It wasn't 'our actions', Janaskja. *You* saved his life." Luka said
quietly.

"Feels pretty good, too." John blushed. "But I'm not going to let it
go to my head. The next one they bring in might not be so lucky."

"It's in God's hands." Luka observed.

"And as you pointed out, they are way more gifted than ours."

"Carter?" They were now surrounded by people passing through the hall.

"Yeah?"

"About that report you left in my locker..."

"I meant every word. JA ljubav te." John headed up the hall.

Carter had been serious about Luka getting rest. By the end of the
week, both of them felt better for having gotten adequate sleep.
Sunday morning found them dressing to go out. Luka had begun
attending the church he'd visited while treating a bishop some time
ago. John, was on his way to brunch with his grandparents. By a
stroke of luck, named Kerry Weaver, they had Monday off.

"You're looking much better John." Millicent Carter observed.

"Thanks, Gamma. I feel much better, too." They had served themselves
from the lavish buffet and were seated at a table over-looking the
city skyline. John ate like a starving man, smiling as he noticed the
cucumber salad on his grandfather's plate. "Thanks again for putting
up with me while I was convalescing."

"Humph. Wouldn't have been necessary if you'd had any sense. What
kind of place is that hospital? Patients running around with knives,
killing people...

"You're looking well, grandfather." John acted as if he hadn't heard
the old man.

"Small thanks to you. Just when are you going to come to your senses
and give up that stupid job?"

"The same day you get some better manners, grandfather." John replied
firmly. Robert Buchanan Carter's eyes went wide.

"'Bout time you grew a backbone. I was beginning to think you'd
always be a weak-minded fool. Your brother never had any problem
standing up to me."

"That's probably because you never slapped him when he did." John was
serene. "Gamma? Did you see 'Ria in London?"

Millicent Carter frowned at her husband's irritability. "Yes. She's
up to her elbows in a major re-organization effort. Our London office
has never been more productive." Millicent was proud of her
granddaughter. "When did you last talk to her?"

Millicent and John chatted while the old man silently fumed. John
should have been the one to be working in London. He glanced at his
grandson, and noticed a ring on the third finger of his left hand.

"Now you're wearing jewelry." he grumped.

"Yes."

"Are you seeing someone, John?" Millicent wanted nothing more than
great-grandchildren.

"Come on, Gamma. I don't really have the time just now, for a social
life." That's not really a lie, John thought grinning. He and Luka
rarely went out, unless you counted trips to the grocery store or the
laundromat.

"Well, if you're not engaged or married, that piece of frippery
should be on your other hand."

"Hey, grandfather, wearing it on this finger keeps the gold-diggers
at a distance." John knew his grandfather feared his grandson would
be easy prey to fortune-hunters.

After another hour of stilted conversation, John excused himself and
left the hotel restaurant. Luka should be home by now. The next time
he saw his grandparents, he'd leave his ring at home. Feeling as if
he'd just tangoed through a mine field, John splurged on a taxi. By
the time he reached the apartment, he was literally running.

He'd barely fished out his keys, when Luka opened the door. He was
still dressed for church and John thought he looked good enough to
eat. Kicking the door closed, he kissed Luka, a nice slow, steady
kiss and felt the familiar dizziness envelope him.

"Did you have a nice time?" Luka asked as they headed down the hall
to the bedroom.

"No. I got the third degree over your ring, but I managed to avoid
giving the old codger any hints. I can't wait until you're a citizen.
As soon as you swear that oath, I'm going to phone him, tell him
about us, and if we're lucky, never have anything to do with my
family again."

"Come here, Janaskja." Luka said in a low husky voice. John stepped
into the strong embrace. After some more of Luka's delicious kisses,
John forgot all about his family.

They took turns undressing each other: slowly at first, then faster.
John went on his knees as Luka handed him a condom. He caressed
Luka's penis, loving the feel as it stiffened in his hands. In one
swift move, he took almost all of it into his mouth, humming
tunelessly. Then he slowly let the erect organ slide from his lips,
its surface bathed in saliva.

Luka shivered slightly as cool air flowed over him. John opened the
condom and slowly, rolled it onto his lover, kissing and licking the
shaft before covering it to the base. Luka groaned as John went to
work once more; his mouth providing a vortex of sensation. Luka
grabbed John's shoulders and began to push himself deeper into the
velvety softness. He bit down on his lower lip, stalling his orgasm.

John's lips and tongue slid effortlessly over the hardness. When John
began humming again, Luka gave himself over to his climax. John could
feel hot semen filling the condom, so he eased up, holding the
throbbing member in his mouth until Luka's erection began to fade.
John rose to his feet and began to kiss Luka's chest, throat, and
neck; soft, gentle kisses that only heightened Luka's feeling of
satisfaction. He softly removed the condom and dropped it into the
trash. "I love you, so much." John whispered. "So very much."

Luka bent his head to kiss John's lips, sighing as his lover yielded
access to the interior of his mouth. They stood for a while, kissing
passionately then moved onto the bed. Luka opened the nightstand and
retrieved the lubricant as John gently teased him into hardness once
more. "I must not have done a very good job if you are ready this
quickly." he murmured.

"Lie down on your stomach." Luka replied, using his long hands to
stroke and fondle John's body, relishing the feel of wiry muscle
under the soft skin. He bent to kiss the smooth buttocks. John really
had the most gorgeous ass. Luka put on another condom. Just the
thought of entering John had him harder than ever. He applied the
lubricant liberally to them both then moved into position. Using his
right hand, he guided himself into the warmth and tightness of John's
anus.

"Ohh, that feels good. Fill me, Sascha. Fill me up. I want all of you
inside me." John's tenor voice was deeper when he was aroused.

"All in good time, Janaskja." Luka smiled as he pushed in a little
more, then withdrew, teasing John, making him squirm with
anticipation. After several minutes of what he privately called "hide
and seek", Luka began to thrust deeply, slowly. By now, John was
almost shouting. Ignoring the demands that he increase his pace, Luka
continued his sexy horizontal sarabande, accompanied by a high-
pitched, incoherent obbligato.

John's mind was blank. His body twitching out of his control. Each
time Luka's cock pressed upon his prostate, John felt a small
explosion of pleasure. He didn't realize that Luka was tightly
gripping the base of his scrotum, postponing his ejaculation. Just
when he thought he would faint from these bursts of sensation, Luka
began to go faster, his own needs no longer to be denied. They
climaxed simultaneously, crying each other's names.

"That was marvellous." John murmured, his face pressed into Luka's
chest. They had showered and returned to bed.

I'm glad you enjoyed it." Luka sighed. He felt totally at peace. The
feel of lips on his nipple made him open his eyes. John's were
closed, the long lashes brushing his cheeks. His mouth moved from one
dark bud to the other as he got up and straddled Luka's hips.

John held Luka's face in his hands and kissed him, using his tongue
to gain access the warm sweetness inside. Luka began to put his arms
around his lover, but John stopped him. "Let me love you." Was all he
said before continuing to shower Luka with small soft kisses. His
tapered fingers gently massaged Luka's skin as he moved lower down.

Luka raised his head onto the pillow so that he could watch. John's
face, from that angle took on an almost feline appearance, the tip of
his nose sheltering lips that curved upwards in a cat-like smile.
John moved himself between Luka's legs, kissing first one thigh, then
the other. He purposely ignored the burgeoning erection rising before
him. After what seemed hours where Luka floated between conciousness
and oblivion, John sat up, brushing his hair out of his face.

He leaned over and reached for a condom and the lubricant. Slowly he
covered himself, his eyes downcast, a soft smile on his lips. He
lifted Luka's legs out of the way and raised his hips until they were
resting on and between his own thighs. Moving forward, he began to
apply lubricant to Luka's anus then gently pressed the tip of his un-
lubricated penis into the opening, coating its tip with lubricant,
then withdrawing. He applied more lubricant, while slowly pumping
Luka's quivering erection. Leaning forward he rubbed the tip of his
penis against Luka's coating it with pre-ejaculate fluid then
inserted it once more, just a little deeper.

Luka tried to move his hips and thereby have John enter him more
deeply. John shook his head, and continued to slowly apply the
lubricant to them both. "Please, John, I want you in me now."

"Shhh. John put a long finger across Luka's lips. Silence fell again.
Finally, just when Luka thought he would go crazy from the mounting
anticipation, John slid home, rocking his hips as he gently stretched
Luka's muscles. Looking up, he locked eyes with Luka. "Are you ready
for me?"

"Ohhh yesss." Luka's voice was a husky whisper.

John nodded and began to pump his hips. Using one hand, he squeezed
where his testicles joined to his body. The other hand softly stroked
Luka's penis. By now, Luka could not contain himself. His moans
rapidly became louder as John increased the pace and the pressure. He
counted to himself, five long deep strokes, followed by three shallow
ones.* Luka gibbered; incohate sounds emanating from deep inside him.

When he reached a total of 100 strokes, John released his hold on
himself and used both hands to pleasure his lover. He thrust rapidly,
feeling his own impending climax. It didn't take long. With a joyous
cry, John began to come as he withdrew, and quickly shucked off the
condom. Using one hand, he pumped himself dry, his semen and Luka's
coating Luka's heaving belly. Sliding upwards once more, John lay in
Luka's embrace as they both calmed. He listened to the strong rapid
beats of Luka's heart, feeling them pulse in counter-point to his
own. The last thing he remembered, was Luka pulling the comforter
over both of them.

* * * * *

Robert George Buchanan Carter frowned at the man seated before his
desk. "So you're telling me my grandson is not involved with some
mercenary hussy?"

"That's right sir." The man was a private investigator. "Unless he
has her shipped in by Federal Express, no one visits the apartment he
shares with one of the doctors from the hospital."

"He's living with someone?"

"Yes, a Dr. Luka Alexsandr Kovac. He's also a trauma physician at
County General."

"Oh." Robert Carter was surprised. John's new-found spine could only
be the result of being in love. The only times he'd ever stood up to
his grandfather was when the dumb boy believed himself to be in love
with a rapacious female who only wanted the Carter money.

"You must have missed her when she visits, or he goes to see her."

"I don't believe so, sir." came the polite reply.

"Well bug his phone, the apartment. He must call her. Find that
woman! If he's taking all these precautions to hide her from us, she
must be truly awful." The old man tossed a wad of bills onto the
desk. Double that if you identify her by the end of the week. You may
go."

Sighing, the little man put the money in his coat pocket and left the
room. As soon as he reached the street, he pulled out his cell'
phone. "Hey, Jeff, I'm going to need some help. Yeah, the old boy is
really determined to bust this one up. Two Chi-Con uniforms and the
usual surveillance equipment. We can do it this afternoon, he and the
other guy will be at work. Alright, I'll meet you there at 3 o'
clock." It was too bad, some people just didn't know when to let well
enough alone.

* * * * *

"Here's a note from the super." Luka and John had identical shifts
for the remainder of the week.

John read the work slip and threw it away. "They were looking for the
source of a power surge, but they didn't find it here."

"That's because they didn't look in the bedroom." Luka smiled as he
pulled off his sweatshirt. "I seem to remember someone using enough
juice to fry the city in there last night."

"Probably the construction workers moving the earth again." John
grinned in return. "What do you want to eat?"

"Chicago sausage with the double casing and extra white sauce,
please."

"Come on, Luka, I'm serious."

"So am I. Get over here." Luka wrapped his arms around John and held
him. "I love you."

"Flirt. You're just saying that so I'll prepare your favorite
dish...", the bug picked up every word, crystal clear.

"There's no doubt, Mr. Carter. There is no woman in your grandson's
life. He's dating, if that is the word; he's dating his roommate. It's
all on the tapes."

"That's impossible!" The old man was furious. "You've got it wrong!
You're fired!"

The little man punched "play" on the small tape player. "... hold
still Luka, I can't get the condom on with you dancing around like
that!" It was clearly John's voice on the tape followed by laughter.

"Happy now?" a foreign accent.

"Oh yeah. I just love Croatian sausage..."

"*Now* do you believe me?" the investigator said standing.

"Here's your money. Leave the tapes on my desk. I hope for your sake
you didn't make copies." Robert Carter was appalled. This was worse
than anything he could have imagined. How could his own flesh and
blood be so disgustingly stupid?

The PI left in a hurry, glad he wasn't in John Carter's shoes. The
look on the old man's face as he listened to John and his lover-boy
had been extremely scary.

"Ms. Smythe? Hold all my calls until further notice." Robert Carter's
rage had gelled into cold fury. If John thought he was going to
flaunt this relationship in his family's face, he was very much
mistaken. "Meet me at Lakeside Park at 2 PM." The old man's hands
were shaking as he put down the receiver. He would handle this and
bring John to heel once and for all. He smiled grimly, thinking that
John's skills as a doctor would be the means by which he would be
brought into line.

Author's Notes:

*Thank you to James Clavell, author of "Shogun", for this "Japanese"
technique.

John Carter had been missing for three days. The secret love affair
was a secret no longer. He'd left the apartment, running late for
work and had driven instead of taking the El, then vanished into
thin air. When Luka came into work that first evening, everyone asked
him if knew where Carter was. The phone had gone unanswered, because
Luka had been at his own apartment, packing the remainder of his
belongings.

When he'd recovered somewhat from the shock, Luka quietly told Mark
Greene that something was seriously wrong. Mark took the news of
their relationship in his stride, he had more important things to
worry about. Both men went to call Lydia at home. Luckily, her
husband, a Chicago policeman, was also off duty and answered the
phone. Mark related their deep concern and gave Al the license number
for Carter's jeep. Although a 24-hour waiting period was usually
required, Al agreed that the circumstances merited immediate action.

Next, Luka and Mark alerted the other hospitals. There might have
been an accident and Carter could have been admitted as a "John Doe".
Finally, Mark waited until Luka had gone to get coffee for the two of
them before calling the City Morgue. He spoke quickly with the Chief
Coroner promising to fax over a picture of the missing resident. He'd
barely hung up when Luka returned.

"Call the morgue." He said in a voice like ashes. "I don't want to be
kept in the dark."

"I already did. He's not there." Mark didn't have to say "yet". They
were both thinking it. "Luka, you should go home. There's a chance
someone will call there. You're in no condition to work."

"No, Mark. I'm staying here. I'll keep checking our messages. I won't
try to treat patients unless I have no choice. Let me update charts,
do inventory, something. I'll go mad in that apartment wondering what
could have happened."

"Ok, if you're sure." Mark sighed.

That was three days ago. No trace of John Carter had been detected.
None of the area hospitals reported treating anyone who resembled the
young doctor. Luka thanked God that the morgue also continued to
reply to their inquiries in the negative. Dr. Weaver, as ER Chief,
had the onerous duty of telephoning the Carter family the first day.
After hanging up the phone, she sat for a moment then went to find
Luka.

"I'm sorry, Luka. John's grandparents have heard nothing. No ransom
demands, nothing."

"Thank you, Kerry. Under the circumstances, I did not want to be the
one to call them. They must be as worried as we are."

"Yes." Kerry said simply. She had been shocked by Robert Carter's
casual reaction. She saw no need to burden Luka with this. Perhaps,
the stiff upper lip had been in place and underneath, the old man was
really worried about his grandson, but somehow, she doubted it. He'd
thanked her for notifying him in a manner more suitable to receiving
the news that a package delivery had been delayed. Even when she told
him that they had alerted hospitals and the morgue, he'd simply
thanked her again and then hung up.

By the end of the week was Luka was frantic. There had been no word
from anyone. The Jeep had not been found either. Apart from brief
trips to their apartment to get clothes, Luka spent all of his time
at County. He'd left their bedroom just as it was that morning, when
they had made love before John left for work and he went to pack up
his old apartment.

"Don't make the bed." John had called out from the bathroom. I'll do
it when I get home." John was late for work and laughing, blew a kiss
to Luka while he was dressing. "I love you.", and he was gone.

Two weeks later, Carter's Jeep was found in the parking lot of an
abandoned building. It looked as if it had been in a serious
accident. There were traces of blood on the driver's seat and door
handle. Vandals had removed almost everything else. When Mark gently
broke this news to Luka, he passed out. When he came to, Kerry went
with him to the room he was using on the fifth floor. She gave him a
sleeping pill and sat with him as he cried himself to sleep.

Luka woke at 3:30 in the morning from a nightmare in which he heard
John calling for help but could not see him. He felt completely
powerless. He put on his shoes and headed downstairs. The ER was
virtually deserted. Frank was dozing at the desk. Jing-Mei looked up
from some patient charts and gave a half-hearted smile. "He'll turn
up Luka, he has to."

"I'm not so sure." Luka sat down heavily as Dave Malucci came around
the corner.

"Here's your sandwich, Jing-Mei. You owe me. Hey, Luka, I'm sorry
man. Try not to worry too much. Carter's a pretty smart dude. If some
bad guys are holding him, you can believe, he'll charm his way out of
there."

"Not if he's dead." Luka said quietly. He had always believed he
would know if something terrible had happened to John. The bond
between them was a powerful one. Less than a month into their
relationship, they'd begun finishing each other's sentences. John had
even joked that after a lifetime of living with and loving Luka, he
would die very wealthy thanks to pennies he didn't have to spend to
find out what Luka was thinking. Now, Luka was beginning to have
serious doubts. It was as if John had never existed.

* * * * *

John Carter slowly regained conciousness in what appeared to be a
hospital room. He had a terrible headache and the cottony feel in his
mouth led him to believe he'd been under anesthesia. When he tried to
sit up, he discovered he'd been restrained; his arms tied to rails on
either side of the bed.

"Good, you're awake.", the voice belonged to a male orderly. "Are you
going to behave yourself?"

John nodded in response, completely mystified. What had happened?
Where was he?

"Ok, then I'll take these off. But I'm warning you, any outbursts and
you'll wish wrist restraints were the only things we'll use to make
you obey orders." The man unbuckled the straps and watched as John
feebly tried to rub some feeling back into his hands.

"I'm sorry, but where am I? What happened? Was I in an accident?"
John's voice was raspy as if it had been unused for some time.

"What do you remember?"

John thought for a few minutes. "I was late for work. I was driving
and this van rear-ended me. I got out to see if anyone needed help
and that's it until I woke up just now. I wasn't injured so why am I
here?"

Before the orderly could reply, another man, dressed in a lab coat,
came in. He examined the chart at the foot of the bed then gestured
for the orderly to leave.

"You honestly don't know why you are here?"

John shook his head wondering how this man had known what they were
talking about.

"Think, Dr. Carter. I've been told you're pretty intelligent. Surely
you must know why you've been admitted here."

"I'm sorry, but I don't. Can I please use a telephone? My co-workers
will be worried. Unless you called them already."

"They've been notified. However, don't worry about your job. You
won't be going back to it for a long time. You've been granted an
extended leave of absence."

"Why? What's wrong with me?"

"Are you *sure* no one else will be worried over your whereabouts?"
The man's smile was not pleasant.

"Luka." John whispered.

"Go to the head of the class. *Now* do you know why you're here?"

John finally understood. He'd heard of these places. Only the very
rich could afford them. You were admitted and were not allowed to
leave unless the person who committed you gave permission. That
rarely happened. Looking around, he noticed the bars on the windows.
Unless a miracle occured, he would die in this place after a lifetime
of being "treated" for an ailment that didn't exist. No one at County
had been called. No one would know what had happened. He was as good
as dead already.


Author's Notes:

FAN FICTION SPOILERS: I will not deny it. I cannot. What follows in
the next four chapters was inspired by portions of the "Chicago"
series by WPAdmirer. Hey, as better writers than I have discovered,
it can't be all hearts and flowers... every now and then you get
asystole and roses have been known to have thorns. So, if you have
not yet read this masterwork, please do so.

John's suspicions had been correct. His friends at County had been
told nothing. Kerry hung up the phone after arranging for the
services of temporary physician to replace her friend and cried. She
felt as if she had just buried John Carter. Bracing herself, she went
to talk to Luka. When she told him, he simply nodded and thanked her
for waiting this long. John had been gone for four months.

The rest of the staff felt as she did. Hiring someone, anyone, even a
temp' was like abandoning any remaining hope of John's return. The
police had been rigorous in their searching, but so far, had turned
up nothing. The blood in the Jeep was John's. Lab tests had confirmed
that quickly enough. Ms. Suda ran the comparisons herself saying that
no one could do it better. She had fully hoped that a match wouldn't
be made. When the results appeared, she too, wept remembering the
polite young resident.

Luka walked the halls like a ghost. No one knew what to say in the
face of his grief. Patients would be startled to find their physician
had tears on his face during the middle of a routine exam. Luka
usually told them that his dearest friend and partner was missing and
presumed dead; begged their pardon, and continued working. His faith
in God, work, and the support of his friends were the only things
holding him together.

Under the circumstances, nobody had dared say anything critical when
Luka's relationship with John was revealed. Most of their closer
friends recalled noticing that both men seemed happier and at first,
while there were still reasons for hoping, talked of engagement
parties and celebrations they'd have when John returned. Now, it
looked as if John would not be returning. Haleh said it best. "He was
the heart of this place." Tough as nails, Haleh began to cry when she
realized she'd said "was".

As the weeks dragged on, Luka forced himself to eat and sleep. He
made no secret of needing OTC sleeping tablets to get more than a
couple of hours' worth. He'd taken his citizenship oath three weeks
ago, his tears of grief mistaken for joyous ones as he stood with the
other brand-new citizens. His friends quietly acknowledged the event,
knowing that he and John had planned to mark the occasion with a
coming-out party. Luka prayed constantly, begging God's mercy on John
and himself. This helped somewhat, but all he really wanted was to be
able to hold John in his arms, hear his voice, and see that special,
beautiful smile that John kept just for him.

* * * * *

"So why were you put in here?" The voice belonged to a young man. He
sat down next to Carter in the day-room.

"I'm in love with a man." John replied flatly. It was as if the
intervening year had never been. He looked worse than when he'd first
returned to work after being stabbed; still in pain, still in the
depth of his grief over Lucy.

"Same here. My name's Cyril, and yours?"

"John Truman Carter" John thought maybe if he repeated his name
enough times, someone might overhear and he'd have a chance at
leaving.

"Hey, small world. You went to the same prep as a cousin of mine."
Cyril noticed John's pack of cigarettes. "You want to go outside and
get a smoke?"

Curious, John got up and followed Cyril to the French doors leading
onto a paved terrace. How could this guy be so cheerful? The two men
sat on a bench and lit cigarettes.

"I know what you're going through, I feel just like you." Cyril said,
still smiling. "Charles, my partner, is probably going out of his
mind worrying about me."

"You look Ok...", John said then he saw that Cyril's cheery attitude
was as phony as this institution's claim to be a medical facility.

"Hey I was training to be an actor. That's where I met Charles. He's
a scenic designer. How's that for a stereotypical gay couple? I made
the stupid mistake of coming out to my family, so here I am. I'm
always bright and upbeat when the staff are around. Makes them think
I'll be no trouble. In the meantime, I'm looking for ways to get out
of here."

"There is no way out of here." Carter groaned. "This place has more
bugs than an exterminator's graveyard and more cameras than
Hollywood. Everytime I go to the bathroom, I've got a video
audience. Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't have these." John
picked up his lighter. "Believe me, I've thought of burning this
place to the ground, but before the blaze could get going, they'd be
there to put it out and lock me in solitary."

Cyril's too-bright smile widened and John looked up to see a staff
member headed their way. Sighing, John stood up to follow the
beckoning orderly. It was time for his daily "therapy" session.

"So Dr. Carter, have you given any thought to my suggestion?"
Carter's therapist was a late-middle aged man with piercing blue eyes.

"No. Your 'suggestion' as you put it, is inhuman, cruel, unecessary,
and morally offensive. There is no way I'm giving up Luka. I love him
and I always will. Do you have anything in here to read? That way, I
can spend an hour in your company and not lose what's left of my
lunch."

"My, we *are* in a hostile mood today."

"Wouldn't you be? Put yourself in my place for a moment. You're
legally of age, good at your profession, your private life is just
that, private. Then all of a sudden, you're dragged off the street
and stuck in a place that looks like a five-star resort but is run by
the same people who gave us Auschwitz. Forgive me, if my temper's
offensive to you Dr. Mengele, but I have more than sufficient cause."

"You weren't 'dragged off the street.' Your records indicate you
signed yourself in for treatment of a personality disorder."

"I never signed anything and you know it. How you, a physician, can
sit there pretending to treat people is beyond me. I seem to remember
taking an oath that includes, 'first, do no harm'."

"You think I'm harming you?"

"Quit trying to play concerned therapist. The role doesn't suit you.
I've worked with a real therapist. I gave you her name. She would
tell you that there is nothing pathologically wrong with my
personality. But you can't call her can you? No. Contacting her would
reveal where I am and then you'd be fired for letting one of your
meal-tickets get away. So instead, you go through the motions of
treating me and your other victims, never considering that most of us
would be cured immediately upon getting out of here. Don't call
me 'Dr. Carter' anymore. I'm ashamed to be practicing medicine with
monsters like you around." John's anger was not diluted by his
outwardly calm demeanor.

When the sham-session ended, John went to his quarters. His
description of this mink-lined prison wasn't exagerated. His large
room was furnished like a hotel for the super-rich, albeit with
security cameras covering every angle. Flipping the bird in the
direction of the nearest spy-cam, John fell onto his bed, covered his
eyes and cried like a child. Vision's of Luka's worried face filled
his dreams. If only he could get in touch with him somehow; reassure
him. Tell him that he was alive. Luka would wait for him. Worn out
with grief, John fell asleep. At least there were no cameras
recording his nightmares.

In the morning, John woke up still in the clothes he'd worn the day
before. He went to shower and change knowing that if he didn't, one
of the orderlies would do it for him. Patient hygiene was governed by
all sorts of rules. Breaking them led to all sorts of indignities.
During his time spent in the day-room, John had overheard stories
that alarmed him. Inmates who tried to commit suicide by starving
themselves were force-fed. Any kind of aberrant behavior was punished
stringently.

After a breakfast that tasted to him like wood shavings soaked in
stale water, despite its being prepared by a top-knotch chef, John
headed to the day-room. If he didn't go, he would be dragged there.
Cyril was waiting, a sunny smile on his face, his eyes however,
looked sad. "Care to join me for a smoke?"

"Sure." They went onto the terrace.

His rictus smile still in place, Cyril began speaking quietly. His
animated jestures were eerily at odds with what he had to say. "You
told off the head shrink yesterday and the staff is furious. I
overheard two orderlies discussing putting you on drug therapy. Do
yourself a favor, pretend to go along with them. You and I both know
the stuff they dope you with here will turn you into a drooling
idiot."

"You're kidding."

"Nope." Cyril said brightly as an orderly came to escort him to his
own therapy session. "See you at lunch *right*?"

"Yes. You're right. I'll be there." John replied. He was more scared
than he'd ever been in his life.

* * * * *

"Have you heard from John lately?" Millicent wanted to know.

"Robert Carter frowned thoughtfully. "I'm sorry Millie, I put off
telling you because I knew how disappointed and hurt you'd be."

"Telling me what?"

"John and I had an argument about a month ago. He told me he wants to
have nothing to do with me or this family. He was vehement; insisted
that we stop bothering him. He's not returning any phone calls. I'm
truly sorry. I thought I could bring him around once he'd cooled off
some, but it looks as if he's written us off." Cyril would have been
proud of Robert's performance.

"You two never did get along. I suppose a major quarrel was bound to
happen. I've got some clinic business to see to next week. If I see
him, maybe *I* can calm him down some." Millicent suggested.

"Millie, you can't see him."

"Why on earth not?"

"He's filed a restraining order. We are not supposed to get within 50
yards of his residence or his place of employment. If we do, we'll be
arrested. I'm sorry Millie. That boy wants us out of his life."

Millicent Carter was shocked into silence. She looked closely at her
husband who'd returned his attention to his newspaper. She imagined
she could find a way to "accidentally" run into John and then, maybe
try to patch things up.

* * * * *

Cyril Francis Madison's advice was sound and Carter took it for what
it was worth. They were careful not to be seen in each other's
company too much, knowing the staff would see their nascent
friendship as sufficient reason to keep them apart. Their mutual
addiction to nicotine provided cover for brief conversations; and
even then, a staff member usually appeared within minutes of their
lighting up.

Normally, an open, trusting person, John was shocked at how easily he
was able to conceal his true feelings. Next, he requested his
therapist be changed. The staff complied without comment. He hoped
this alteration would provide the jailers with an explanation for his
new willingness to cooperate in this psychiatric travesty. After
observing Cyril, John too began to smile. If Luka could have seen
him, he would have known immediately that these smiles were grosteque
falsehoods. Indeed, thinking of Luka was only way John could force
his lips to make the effort.

After a month or so, the deception began paying off. The ever-present
orderlies eased up on their constant attention, leaving only the
cameras to worry about.

"Shit, your childhood sounds like something from a Bronte novel...
everything but the blood-hounds nipping at your rear end." Cyril
observed early one evening during their post-prandial smoke.

John shocked himself by actually laughing aloud: the first time since
that morning, a million lifetimes ago, when the sight of Luka in
socks, sporting an erection he could have used as a coat hook, had
prompted the same reaction. The thought that he might be getting used
to this place quickly sobered his mood. "What about you?"

"Hey, I had it easy. Oldest child and only son; spoiled rotten... I
loved every minute of it. I found out I was gay at summer camp. Had a
major pash for this male counselor. He never laid a hand on me, mind.
He was too busy chasing some 'Tracy Lord' knock-off who supervised
the girls' cabins. Didn't stop me from fantasizing about him
everytime I choked the chicken, though." Cyril's smile was genunine
this time. "And your epiphany?"

"Prep school. My dressage coach. He looked like a Greek god. Needless
to say I freaked out and immediately got busy with dating girls."

"Bisexual, huh?" Cyril observed. "Must be confusing."

"Not really. I'm naturally monogamous. With only a couple of
exceptions, I've always loved the person I took to bed."

"Luka was your first man?"

"First, last, and only." John confirmed, glad to be able to say this
to someone who understood.

"Same with me and Charles. You know they say, 'a girl never forgets
her first'." John grinned at Cyril's theatrical mannerisms. Cyril, in
turn, interpreted the look on his new friend's face. "Yep, that's me.
I'm beyond gay; I'm enchanted. Fairy wings keep my feet at least a
yard off the ground. Why my parents needed me to *tell* them I was
gay is one of the great unsolved mysteries of the universe. Hell, my
sisters had the best dressed Barbie dolls in town---I designed and
made all their clothes."

"My sister used to try to make me play with her's. I hated it." John
remembered.

"And that's you, butch to the bone." Cyril laughed.

"Oh I don't know. Luka gave me this scarlet silk caftan as a six-
month anniversary present. I loved wearing it." John admitted. "It
felt ..."

"Like he was sliding his hands over you." Cyril finished the sentence.

"Yeah." John smiled remembering the first time he wore it. "Oh yeah."

"There's hope for you yet. You'd make a cute drag queen." Cyril
looked at John with one eye closed, picturing how he would dress his
friend.

"I don't look a thing like Judy Garland." John objected.

"Boy, are you out-of-date! No, with your nose, I'm thinking a young
Barbara Streisand. Maybe in that peach-colored hobble suit she wore
in "Funny Girl". With your coloring, you'd look fabulhoff." Cyril was
serious.

John's laughter rang out just as an orderly walked by. "It's getting
cold out here, I'm going in." They extinguished their cigarettes and
went inside.

* * * * *

Luka's first real smile in months, occured two weeks after John's
conversation with Cyril. He'd left work, and unwilling to go to the
too empty apartment, went to evening mass. The familiar liturgy
calmed him considerably. As always, he called out John's name during
the portion of the service when the prayers were offered for those in
need. After the benediction, he asked the priest to hear his
confession.

"Father forgive me, for I have sinned grievously. It's been over
fours years since my last honest confession.", Luka began.

"Please, make your full confession now, my son." The priest replied.

"Father, since coming to the United States, I have entered into two
homosexual relationships. They included physical relations. For the
past eleven months, I have been in a relationship that will probably
be my last earthly union. I love him completely and am not ashamed of
this. I don't believe these relationships are sinful so I never
included them in my confessions. Nevertheless, I took communion; a
grievous sin under any circumstances."

"The previous relationships, were they casual?"

"No father, I was committed to both men, but I was working as a
floating physician. I moved constantly. The relationships ended when
I had to go to another city to earn a living. On my part at least,
there was the sincere intention to build them into something
permanent. I did not enter into them lightly."

"I see, and now?"

"As I said, I love him totally. I cannot foresee ever loving anyone
else and now that he's gone..." Luka's voice broke and he wept.

"My son, come with me to my office. It's more comfortable there and I
will try my best to help you."

The two men left the bi-sected booth and went across the street to
the parsonage. Father Thomas pulled out an overstuffed chair for Luka
then placed two glasses on his desk. He poured a generous amount of
clear liquid into each and sat down next to Luka, handing him one of
the glasses.

Luka smelled the familiar aroma of a liqueur popular in his homeland
and tossed it down like medicine. Father Thomas offered a refill, but
Luka shook his head. "I take sleeping pills, Father. Anymore might be
dangerous." He explained tiredly.

"What happened, Luka? They'd introduced themselves when Luka first
visited the parish in the company of the bishop to ordain the man he
was confessing to. "Did your partner leave you?"

"No. He's been missing for over five months. No one knows where he
is. The police can find no trace. I'm afraid he may be dead. That's
the only thing that would keep him from communicating with me."

Father Thomas's eyes went wide. "Merciful heavens." This was not the
answer he'd been expecting. "So, as far as you know, he's never
stopped loving you as much as you love him?"

Luka nodded, waiting for the kindly, but firm explanation that his
love for John, though honorable in its intent, was an abomination
before God and the Holy Catholic Church.

"Well then, you've been making full confessions all along. There's no
need to fear the commission of a mortal sin." Father Thomas replied
smiling.

"What?" Now it was Luka's turn to be surprised by an unexpected reply.

"Luka, I believe the church is mistaken when it maintains a double
standard for same-gender unions. I also believe that reserving sexual
activity for procreation is a silly waste of one of God's greatest
gifts to His children. I would probably be censured for taking this
stand publicly, but in private, like now, I've told gay and lesbian
parishioners there is nothing inherently wrong or sinful in their
relations with each other as such. Whorish, irresponsible, profligate
behavior *is* sinful no matter who commits it. You have indulged in
none of these things." The young priest thought for a minute. "Tell
me, honestly, would you and this man get married if you could?"

"Yes, Father. We often discussed it. But what church would condone
it?"

"Not this one, that's for certain. Our new bishop toes the party
line. Continue to pray for your partner's safe return..."

"His name is John." Luka interjected quietly. "John Truman Carter."

"...and I too, will pray for John's safe return. And when he does,
for I believe in God's infinite mercy; I will marry you with all the
rites of the Church at any place you choose, except for across the
street, of course." Father Thomas smiled.

Luka shook his head. "You musn't risk your spiritual well-being for
us Father."

"Are you nuts? Most priests I know would have to confess the sin of
envy over my presiding at the marriage of two evangelists. After all,
I'll be uniting Luke and John in Holy Matrimony. You know, I always
wondered about those two."

Grinning, Luka left the parsonage and returned to their apartment
with renewed hope. He fell asleep without using pills and slept 'til
dawn.

The odd couple---together again: Dave Malucci and Jing-Mei had been
on duty since eight in the evening. It was now 2:30 AM on a Tuesday,
in the middle of the month. In other words, there was nothing to do.
Jing-Mei was playing Hearts with three other ER docs on the Internet.
Dave, was hovering around, kibitzing, and tap-dancing on her last
nerve.

"So, what do you think happened to Carter?" Dave asked as Jing-Mei
logged off. She'd lost five games in a row.

"Give it a rest, Malucci." Dave had been pestering his co-workers
with all kinds of off-the-wall theories explaining Carter's
disappearance. Jing-Mei and the others were sincerely tired of the
arm-chair detective.

"No, I'm serious. I mean, people like him don't just disappear unless
there's a reason." Dave insisted, as Jing-Mei rolled her eyes.

"Malucci, he's probably dead." Jing-Mei finally said aloud what she'd
believed for months. No other explanation was possible. Carter loved
his work. If what Luka had told them was true; Carter loved Luka even
more. The son of one of the richest men in Chicago had more than
likely been kidnapped and then something went very wrong: like what
happened to the Lindbergh baby. She tried to explain this to Dave who
would have none of it.

"Sorry, Deb." He used her English name in an attempt to get her full
attention and her goat. He succeeded. "Where I come from, it ain't
like that. Come on, use your head. Use logic. This doesn't add up
right." He held up one of his large, well-shaped hands and began to
count on his fingers.

"One: If he was killed by accident, say in a car-jacking, why would
the perps be so cagey with the body? Most of those guys are young and
supremely stupid." He ignored Jing-Mei's pointed look in his
direction. "They'd take the Jeep and leave Carter where he fell. By
the time the chop shops finished with it, you'd never know it was the
same car. So why was the Jeep trashed and left where it couldn't be
missed? Why didn't they dump the owner?

"Two: If he was murdered on purpose, what's the killer's motive? A
pissed-off husband? Not likely---with him and Luka knocking boots?
Revenge? Puhleeeze! Revenge for what? Carter is a prize nerd. You're
telling me 'Mr. Buttoned-Down-Kind-to-Small-Animals-Widows-and-
Orphans' pissed somebody off enough they decided to off *him*? Yank
the other one." Dave was warming to his subject.

"Three: If somebody did kidnap him, why all the hush-hush? Yeah,
before you get your loved one back, you keep it out of the media. But
if he was killed accidentally, how long do you think his family is
going to cough up money without getting him back? If the kidnappers
decided to forget the whole thing, dump him in the river and run for
the hills, why haven't his folks put Carter's puss on the back of a
milk-carton or on the six o' clock news? They want their kid back
don't they?"

Jing-Mei found herself nodding. For a half-wit, Dave was beginning to
make a little sense.

"Ok. It wasn't accidental death. It sure as hell wasn't murder. That
leaves some variation on the kidnapping scenario, but what? Fuck
kidnapping for profit. Carter's family would have paid the ransom and
he'd have been back at work four months ago. Since his family is
keeping mum, *and* Prince Goody-Two-Shoes still hasn't surfaced,
there must be some other reason. A reason that's as important to them
as Carter's life; and that means something embarrasing. Embarrasing
to the Carters. Now, what could that be?" Dave tapped his chin,
pretending to think.

"The sole male heir to a fortune is playing hide the salami with
another man. Sounds like we got a winner here, folks! Remember, these
jerks didn't even come to the hospital when Al Schweitzer, Jr. was
almost stabbed to death. Obviously, they're just brim-full of warm
fuzzies for the guy." Dave finished triumphantly.

"You just lost me Dave." Jing-Mei frowned. She should have known
better than to listen to this idiot. "Are you telling me that
Carter's family had him killed because he's gay? Get real, Malucci."

"Not killed. Put away." Dave said simply.

"Put away? Where? By whom?"

"Come on Jing-Mei, you know rich folks can do whatever they want. If
you've got the means, the world is your calamari. They probably
stashed him in one of those ritzy 'rest homes' with the dypso wives
and funny uncles, and conveniently lost the keys. Those places are
privately owned, so there aren't any state records. Hell, he was
probably admitted under another name. The only way we'll find him is
to have someone with a court order start nosing around in the
hallways of every private sanitorium between here and Yemen."

"Dave, you're a dork, you know that? Stuff like that only happens in
bad novels." Jing-Mei said flatly. Just as Dave opened his mouth to
protest, a trauma case came in, and Jing-Mei went to help. In the
course of treating the patient she forgot about Dave and his half-
baked attempts to hope against hope that John was still alive. When
she was finished, she returned to the desk to find Malucci involved
in a Hearts game with the same guys she'd played with earlier. The
son-of-a-bitch was winning. Shaking her head, she went to talk with
the nurses.

Although, known for his lack of tact, Dave kept his latest theory to
himself. Luka had finally begun to resemble an approximation of a
human being, so Dave waited. He knew Jing-Mei's family was wealthy,
but not in the same league as the Carters. What he needed was to bend
the ear of someone who was very familiar with the world of private
jets, summer homes, and 'vested interest.

The only people he knew, who fit that profile were in family-owned
businesses alright, but when they wanted someone to disappear, the
vic' ended up in the East River with cement weights to hold him down.
Of the staff at the hospital, only one other person had lived in John
Carter's world: Robert Romano. Dave decided he'd talk to Romano only
if he had no other choice and even then, he'd try to avoid it.

Two weeks later, Alderman Carlton returned to County with some
friends who just happened to be in key positions to help the
hospital. She'd told no one she was coming, the better to see if the
treatment she received on her first visit had been a fluke. She met
Kerry Weaver coming up the hall and stopped to ask directions.
Before, she could frame her question, Kerry smiled a little and
reached for her hand.

"Mrs. Carlton, how's Andrew doing?"

"Fine, considering what could have happened. He'll go back to work
full-time in a couple of weeks. I wish I could convince him to leave
that awful place, but you know kids. He's got this idea that he needs
to give something back." Her fond smile took the sting out of her
observation.

Kerry nodded. The young man reminded her of Carter.

Evidently Alderman Carlton was a mind-reader. "So, is the doctor who
saved Andrew's life on duty now? I never did get to thank him
properly."

"No. He's not here anymore."

"I'm not surprised. I mentioned how he saved my son to some friends
of mine at Johns Hopkins. I guess they stole him from you. Maybe I
shouldn't have meddled, but he seemed so nice." The Alderman smiled
remembering Carter shyly offering his prayers on Andrew's behalf.

"I'm sorry. His family asked that we not tell anyone..." Kerry said
hoping the bait she dangled would be snapped up.

"Tell anyone what?"

"Dr. Carter has been missing for over six months now. He left his
apartment to drive to work here and vanished. No one has heard
anything since." Kerry's eyes brimmed.

"You're kidding." Mrs. Carlton stared at Kerry, seeking some trace of
humor indicating that this was a practical joke of some kind. "Not
tell anyone? Robert G. B. Carter must be off his rocker!"

"You know Carter's family?"

"No. I know *about* them. As far as they're concerned, people like me
are invisible. Let's just say, I'm descended from a long line of men
and women in domestic service. I'm familiar with the type." She
paused for a moment then smiled suddenly. "What about that other
doctor who was so kind? I don't think I ever learned his name."

"Dr. Kovac, Luka Kovac." Kerry said. "He's with a patient right now."

"I'll wait. It's not often that you meet someone who is so
empathetic."

"Alderman Carlton, I should tell you something about Dr. Kovac and
Dr. Carter..." Kerry spoke hesitantly. She knew Luka would tell the
woman about his feelings for John, and if there was going to be any
negative reaction, Kerry would prefer to be the recipient.

"Besides the fact that they're lovers?"

"How, in the name of Mike?..."

"It was written all over their faces. Honey, I'm a hard-boiled city
politician and before that, a ruthless business woman. If I didn't
observe my opponents closely and scrutinize my supporters even more
vigorously, I'd still be running for City Dog Catcher." The elegantly
dressed woman raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think he should be
through with that 'patient' by now?"

"You don't miss a trick." Kerry said appreciatively. "He's in the
lounge. Follow me." The two women headed for the rear of the building.

"Luka?" Kerry opened the door and turned on the lights. Mrs. Carlton,
who topped Kerry by at least four inches could make out the long form
lying on the sofa. Kerry gently shook Luka's shoulder.

"John, please..." He murmured, his eyelids creasing. All at once he
sat up, wide awake. "What happened Kerry? Is there some news?"

"No, you have a visitor."

Alderman Carlton was not prepared to see the change in the handsome
young doctor. He'd lost at least ten pounds. His eyes were sunken and
his expression haggard. All he needed was one of those striped
uniforms and he could have been a dress extra in "Schindler's List."

"Dr. Kovac? You probably don't remember me, but..."

"You're the mother of that young man who was shot. Carlton, Andrew
Carlton."

"Thank you for remembering. I came here today to thank Dr. Carter,
but Dr. Weaver tells me something has happened to him. I'm sorry. You
two looked like a very happy couple."

Luka glanced up at this remark, his eyes dull, but he managed a small
smile. "Thank you. Our anniversary was yesterday. We would have been
together for fourteen months." His eyes blurred as tears poured down
his cheeks. Mrs. Carlton went to sit beside him.

"He'll be found. God's not going to let anything bad happen to
someone that special." She said quietly with a great deal of
conviction.

Luka put his head in his hands, large sobs wracking his body. Kerry
left the room, closing the door as Mrs. Carlton put her arms around
Luka and held him to her. When Luka gained better control of his
feelings, she sat back and handed him some paper towels.

"Dry your face, honey. We need to talk."

"How did you know about John and I?"

"Sweetie, my brother's gay. Before he told the family, he used to
look at his friend just like Dr. Carter was looking at you that day.
When you're truly in love, it shows." She got up and began to rummage
in the refrigerator then came back with a carton of orange
juice. "You look as if you've been living on coffee and bad dreams.
Drink some of this."

Luka drank directly from the container. The Alderman shook her
head. "Men. You know there are some cups right next to you..."

"And?" Luka asked.

"Never mind. Listen, I came here to see what this place was like with
an eye to arranging some goodies for you all in the next fiscal year.
But that can wait. I'd much rather help you to find Dr. Carter, or at
least find out what happened to him. People like me make a living by
trading favors. Luckily, I have some pretty healthy sized payments
due from individuals who can cut through red tape. Would you like me
to wade in there on your behalf?"

Luka thought for a moment. Kerry had said John's family wanted to
keep his disappearance quiet and that wasn't working. Maybe it was
time to make a little noise. At best, it would bring John back to
him, at worst, he'd find out sooner where the body was. "Yes. Yes,
ma'am."

"Despite your abhorrence of drinking glasses, it looks as if your
Momma raised you the right way. I'll get started today."

"Thank you, Mrs. Carlton..." Luka began.

"No. It should be the other way around. Thank you. I owe your partner
for saving my son's life and I fully plan to pay that debt in kind."
They shook hands as she rose to her feet. "I'll get your numbers from
Dr. Weaver. I'll phone you tonight after I've made a few calls, and
we can discuss our strategy." Hugging him again, she left the room,
pulling her cell' phone from her purse.

* * * * *

John hadn't seen Cyril for several days. At first, he thought Cyril
was avoiding him to keep the staff from being suspicious. Late one
night, after the hotel-style store had closed, John deliberately ran
out of cigarettes. He went to Cyril's room prepared to explain he was
only going to borrow some tobacco. The orderlies stopped him in the
small lobby which separated two wings of the institution; escorted
him to the locked store and gave him a carton. John became very
concerned.

The following morning he saw Cyril seated in a wheel chair in the day-
room. No longer caring about the omni-present observers, John rushed
over to him then stopped in his tracks. What Cyril called
his "Stepford Smile" was gone. Indeed, all trace of any human
expression had vanished. Cyril's eyes were glassy and blank. The
expressive hands lay in his lap like dead things. Backing up, John
bumped into the human pit-bull that had removed his restraints
shortly after he'd first arrived.

"Don't bother asking *him* to dance with you." The man said laughing
cruelly. Pretty-boy won't be waltzing for a long time. However, if
you ask him real nice, he might teach you the Thorazine Shuffle."
Still laughing, the orderly went on his way.

"He tried to escape." The voice belonged to a teen-aged girl. John
was surprised to hear her speaking. Whenever he had seen her, she'd
shown as much interest in her surroundings as Cyril was doing now.
Nevertheless, he'd smiled at her anyway.

"When?" John managed to ask quietly.

"Six nights ago. It was Charles's birthday. Cyril said he'd promised
him they'd spend it together. He tried to walk off the grounds."

John nodded. The night of his own anniversary had been sheer torture.
All he could think of was somehow getting to Luka. Twice, he woke
himself shouting his name aloud. He'd spent the rest of the night
weeping. As he went outside alone to smoke, John prayed harder than
ever before in his life: "Dear God, let me get out of here. Don't let
me die in this place."


Author's Note:

This chapter is humbly dedicated to Invicta, the author who first
alerted me to the unique and colorful linguistic style to be found in
that marvellous diamond in the rough---Dave Malucci. Hidden fires
indeed, Holmes!

Laurencia Carlton wasted no time. She called the Chief of Police and
requested a meeting. It was granted immediately. After this meeting,
she touched bases with the DA's office and two friendly reporters at
the "Trib'." Just before reaching home, at seven that evening, she
called an old friend. "Ola, Graciela. ?Como estas?" Graciela
Montenegro headed a large coalition of neighborhood empowerment
groups. She had a network of connections that provided her with
valuable information on all kinds of issues. Both women were self-
made millionaires thanks to a great deal of drive and enough
determination to stop a freight train.*

"Listen, amiga. I need some discrete surveillance work done."
Laurencia said. "Can I meet you for breakfast? Muy Bien, gracias."
Laurencia grinned as she rode the elevator to her spacious
condominium. Her husband, David, greeted her affectionately then
poured cocktails for them both. She described her visit to County in
detail and was not surprised when her husband offered his assistance
in the search. Laurencia accepted immediately. David's accounting
firm was large and successful; providing services to some very
important members of Chicago's elite.

The following morning, Graciela and Laurencia sipped Virgin Marys and
made their plans. "I need to know what's really going on in the
Robert Carter household. David can probably get a line on their
recent financial transactions; you know, checking to see if they've
made any large cash withdrawals---evidence they've paid a ransom---
but I need to know what's happening on the home front."

"That's easy. Several members of the coalition are employed there."
Graciela smiled. "I'll pass the word. It's amazing the how many
people assume our preference for speaking Spanish is due to a lack of
skill en Ingles. May their ignorance continue."

"Amen." Laurencia agreed. "Although the reason in my people's case is
different. White folks automatically assume we're either too stupid
or too lazy to be bothered to listen to them make plans to cheat on
their spouses, put the screws to business rivals, or any other little
thing that comes to their tiny minds. Thank God for complacency and
ignorance." The two women finished their power breakfasts and went to
work.

Three more weeks passed with no new information. The police had moved
the case to their back-burners. With no corpse or any other tangible
evidence to go on, they ceased their all-out investigation,
preferring to wait upon tips from informants that never came.
Although the Carter's holding company wasn't publicly traded, David
still managed to hack his way into their financial network. There was
nothing out of the ordinary to be found anywhere.

Senora Montenegro was the only one to mention something unusual. The
staff at the mansion reported almost at once, that the son and
daughter-in-law were out of the country. So far, so good: they
travelled constantly. However, none of the staff had overheard them
being told their son was missing. What was even more odd, the
grandparents did not talk about it at all. They got the impression
that Mrs. Carter genuinely didn't know her grandson had disappeared
and that the old man was keeping this news from her.

"Dr. Kovac. I'm sorry to say, I've been able to learn nothing. There
is no information to be found. I really think it's time we went to
Plan B." Luka had begun to enjoy Laurencia's daily phone calls. He
sighed heavily.

"You want to bring the media into this."

"I think we have to. If no one besides a handful of people know he's
missing, potential witnesses have no reason to say anything. He
disappeared in broad daylight on a major commuting artery. Someone,
must have seen something. Right now, some hard-working plumber is
probably wondering what ever happened to the guy he saw being mugged,
or shoved into another car, or whatever." She explained. "Let's give
these folks a chance to come forward."

"What do you have in mind?" Luka's hopes rose inspite of himself.

"I've got some friends at Channel 6. They will be more than willing
to break the story of the year if you consent to be interviewed."

"And tell them everything?" Luka was reluctant to "out" John to such
a wide audience without his permission.

"Everything. Listen, I know you're concerned about the homophobes'
reactions but even that can be a blessing in disguise." Laurencia
changed her normally light soprano voice into a baritone rumble. "'I
don't hold with no queer guys anyways; and if that was him I saw on X
Street on the umpteenth of Joo-Vember, serve him right.' See what I
mean? Even the bigots could lead us to something."

Luka made up his mind. "I'll do it. I want him home."

"Great! I'll pick you up at 5:30 tomorrow morning." She hung up.

Luka stretched out on the couch. He'd been sleeping there ever since
John had vanished. The bedroom held too many memories. He showered
and shaved at work. The bathroom also held memories that were now
painful. Luka was nervous about exposing his private feelings on
tomorrow's taping but he was terrified at the thought of never seeing
John again or ever finding out what happened to him. To prevent that,
he would walk naked down State Street at noon.

The taping was not the ordeal he'd thought it would be. Unbeknownst
to him, Laurencia had briefed the two anchorpersons so the questions
were phrased more sensitively than otherwise. The spectre of Robert
Carter's battery of lawyers laying siege to the TV station was enough
to give anyone pause. Kerry had provided a photograph of her and John
taken at softball game prior to the stabbing incident. It had been
blown-up and digitally enhanced, and it was a major surprise to
Millicent Carter as she ate her breakfast, when an image of John
appeared on the screen.

"For over six months, this young man's whereabouts have been unknown.
Last March..." The senior anchor's voice reported.

Millicent dropped her coffee cup and ran to the house
telephone. "Robert, turn on Channel 6 then get down here!"

"Dr. Kovac, you and Dr. Carter had been living together for almost
eight months when he disappeared?"

"Yes."

"Did anyone know about your relationship at that time?"

"Only our supervisor. We didn't think it was anyone else's business."

Millicent watched, her mouth open in disbelief. On Luka's left hand
was a ring identical to the one she'd seen John wearing that Sunday
at brunch.

"Would you like to say something to John? He may be able to see
this." The male anchor offered.

Luka smiled wanly. He'd never considered this possibility. "Yes...
Janaskja, I love you very much. I always will. I pray God He will let
you come home to me..." They went to commercial over a close-up of
Luka's ravaged face, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry you had to see that Millie." Robert Carter stood just
inside the doorway. "I was trying to spare you, and my good
intentions back-fired. Don't believe everything you see on
television. I've known about that slimy European almost from the
beginning. I had him investigated. It seems he likes to beat up on
his boyfriends. I showed the evidence to John and he took it badly. I
think he blames me. Actually, I *know* he does. He's left the
country. He said living the gay lifestyle is easier in Europe and he
won't be back. I should have told you sooner, but I was hoping he'd
change his mind. Don't let that bastard's crocodile tears fool you.
He was abusing John. Things are better as they are now. I'm sorry I
lied to you before." Robert patted Millie's shoulder and left the
room.**

Millicent Carter collapsed into a chair, her mind racing. She'd just
seen two men give Academy Award-calibre performances. She closed her
eyes, recalling the image of Dr. Kovac looking into the camera;
looking right at her, trying to appear as if his heart hadn't been
torn out of his body. Robert had never once looked her in the face.
It was no contest. The Best Actor award was going to be won by a
foreigner. Something was terribly wrong, and it wasn't her grandson's
relationship with Dr. Kovac.

* * * * *

"All right!" Dave high-fived Yoshi. They were coming off duty and had
watched Luka on the TV in the lounge. "Now, we'll see some action!"
The two men grinned. Like the rest of Carter's friends, they believed
John's family had put their collective heads up their asses. If no
one knew he was missing, how could anyone volunteer pertinent
information?

"I'm glad to see my staff has so much energy left at the end of a
shift." Robert Romano bounced into the room. Are you two volunteering
to pull a double?"

"No way." Malucci said. I was just leaving."

Yoshi shook his head. "We were watching Dr. Kovac on 'Wake-Up,
Chicago'.", he explained in his cultured voice.

"And his grief is a cause for celebration. You've been working under
me too long." Romano's expression was grim, but his eyes twinkled.

"We were just hoping that since now everyone knows about Dr. Carter,
some leads will turn up."

"I see. Sorry, I missed it." Romano headed back to his office
thinking that Yoshi was right. He nearly jumped out of his skin when
Malucci tugged on his elbow.

"Dr. Romano? Can I talk to you for a minute?" His face was troubled.

"Don't tell me, now that witnesses will be coming forward, you want
to confess. Come up to my office." The cocky surgeon took the stairs
two at a time. When they reached Romano's office, Dave repeated the
theory he shared with Jing-Mei, colorful metaphors and all, then
waited for Romano to tell him he was insane.

Instead, Rocket sat thinking for a few minutes. "Have you told this
to anyone else?"

"Only Dr. Chen. She thinks I'm nuts."

"Well she's right about that, but that doesn't mean your idea is
equally crazy."

"Really?!" Dave squeaked.

"Let's just say, I have observed families like the Carters under
similar circumstances. What I saw wasn't very pretty." I think I know
someone who will be interested in your theory. Now, get out of here."
***

Romano picked up the phone. "Shirley, get me Alderman Carlton's
office."

Ten minutes later, Shirley connected him with Laurencia Carlton.
Robert Romano repeated Dave's supposition.

"That fits with what I've been able to learn so far. I just got off
the phone with an excellent source who informed me there was the blue-
blooded equivalent of a knock-down-drag-out fight at the Carter
mansion right after Dr. Kovac spoke his piece. It seems somebody's
been lying to Ma Carter. She hadn't been told about John's
disappearance."

"Who won?"

"Ten rounds, no decision. But if there's a re-match, my money's on
Mrs. C. She may not be the most effusive woman I've ever met, but she
loves her grandson. She also doesn't take kindly to being played for
a fool. If I were dear old grand-dad, I'd start circling the wagons."

That same afternoon, a homeless woman walked into the 4th Precinct.
At first, her appearance and demeanor drew the usual reactions and
she was told to wait until someone could take her statement. Five
hours later, the night shift desk clerk asked her why she was hanging
around. When she told him, he immediately called the Captain.

"Would you mind repeating what you told Officer Jenkins?"

"Not at all. That young man whose picture was on TV this morning.
I've seen him before. The first time, he gave me stitches after some
young guys beat me up. He was real nice, even offered to get me a
place to stay." She smiled.

"And most recently?"

"It was about six or seven months ago. He'd found out where I was
sleeping and used to come by sometimes to see if I was Ok. That
morning, he got out of one of those cars that look like dressed up
Army Jeeps and two guys jumped him, shoved him into their van and
drove off. It was a blue van, bright blue."

"Why didn't you tell anyone about this before now?"

"I did. Nobody believed me. But when I saw him on the news, I thought
I'd better try again."

The two officers took down a description of the men, the van, and
most importantly, noted the location where the victim had been last
seen. If one person had witnessed this, surely there were others.
When the woman left, Captain Gregson called Alderman Carlton at home.

"Laurencia, I think you might be interested in a lead that just
turned up." He repeated the homeless woman's story. "We'll probably
be able to corroborate this by tomorrow. When we do, you know what
that means..."

"Kidnapping. We can call the FBI."

"Bingo."

"Why wait? I've got a few friends in their Chicago office. They can
begin investigating quietly while your staff gets the corroborative
evidence. Enough time's been wasted as it is."

"It's a pleasure doing business with you Laurencia."

"Remember that on Election Day, Michael." She hung up, jumped up, and
did an impromptu jig before calling the Chicago field office of the
Federal Bureau of Investigation.


Author's Notes:

* Si, Senoras y Senors. I know that first question mark should be
upside down. You try porting a non-ASCII character into this forum.
Good luck! (You'll need it.)

** I believe giving credit where credit is due. Check out Cathy and
Michelle's story, "Tag, You're It" to see where my inspiration for
Robert Carter's (Boo, Hiss) whopping great lie orginated. A lovely,
angsty, sexy read awaits you.

*** Thank you again, Invicta. Readers, if you haven't taken the time
to enjoy "Hail to the Chief", it's just a double click (or two) away.

For those of you interested in "real life" accuracy, I have changed
the nature of Chicago's municipal government. In *my* Chicago, there
is a strong council of Aldermen and Alderwomen and a rubber-stamp
mayor. I offer my abject apologies to citizens of the "city of big
shoulders".

Millicent Carter stood in the VIP transit lounge waiting for her
son's plane to land. Since Robert's "revelation" and the shock of
seeing her grandson's face on television yesterday morning, she had
not slept. At just after three in the morning, she was even more
confused than she'd been fifteen hours ago.

How could her husband of almost sixty years believe her to be so
stupid? If her grandson was gay, well... she would have preferred
he'd not been, but she could accept that he had no control over this
matter. Indeed, if he had, he probably wouldn't be gay. She hadn't
been blind either. She'd noticed John's almost desperate attempts to
please his family and gain their approval. As she watched the ground
crews scurrying on the runways beneath her, she shook her head.

Maybe she *was* stupid. Considering her admittedly old-fashioned
belief that husbands and wives should present a united front; she'd
said nothing to openly contradict Robert when he kept insisting that
being a doctor was wrong for Johnny. When she and her grandson got
together, it was as if they were strangers. She knew more about the
private lives of her servants than she did about her own flesh and
blood.

After Robert had left her breakfast room, she'd called Roland. His
silence when she told him about John's disappearance thundered over
the phone line. Before she could ask him to come home, she heard him
ordering his personal assistant to have the company jet prepared for
take-off in forty minutes. He'd given her his ETA then hung up.

How could Robert expect her to believe that John would run off to
Europe without telling his friends where he'd gone? The idea was
preposterous. His co-workers were his *real* family. When he was
lying in the hospital after being attacked, she couldn't get into his
room without tripping over members of the ER staff. Although, she'd
only visited him twice, both times, Dr. Kovac had been leaving his
room as she came in... and both times he'd obviously been crying.
Sighing, she realized she'd been stupid *and* blind. When she looked
up, she saw the jet had landed. Tossing aside the magazine she'd
never bothered to open, she walked over to the arrival gate.

Roland Carter was tall and dark; a more substantial version of his
second son, John. He hugged his mother briefly as they headed for the
exit. Millicent's driver opened the door to the waiting limo. It
wasn't until the car had entered the expressway, that either of them
spoke. "What exactly has been going on?" Roland asked, his anger
barely under control.

Millicent explained in detail beginning with the last time she'd seen
John. By the time the driver let them out in front of the house,
Roland was silent again, his lips white. In the light of the porte-
cochere, Millicent gasped. She'd never seen her son this furious.
Catching hold of his arm, she led him towards a small stone bench.

"Mother whatever you're going to say, make it fast, then I'm going
inside and pounding his face in."

"You'll do no such thing Roland; not if you want to see John again."

"Are you taking his side *again*?!"

"Of course not. But if you go in there breathing fire, you'll never
manage to get any information out of him. Calm down. Think. If you
appear to agree with the action I think he's taken, he will probably
confide in you. However, if you're yelling and screaming, he'll just
stand there and let you make a fool of yourself and you won't find
out what's happened to John. He's involved in this; I'm certain of
it." Millicent stood up. "Throw some cold water on your face and
think of your son. He needs you to be intelligent more than he needs
your foolishness. Once you find out what we need to know, you have my
permission to shoot Robert George Buchanan Carter for the mad dog he
truly is."

Mother and son entered the house. Roland dumped his briefcase and
went upstairs. His father was awake, standing in his study, his back
to the room, looking out of the window. He'd probably seen their car
arrive. "Mother's upset about John's little affair. It's too bad his
lover wanted publicity..." Roland said casually as he poured himself
a drink. Yeah, it was too bad for Robert Carter.

"You seem to share my views on this matter." Robert could never be
sure of his son's feelings. Secretly relieved that he'd be spared a
scene, he let his own emotions get the better of him. "John can cool
his heels for awhile. Eventually he'll come to his senses. He has a
responsibility to the family and I won't permit him to link our name
with this flagrant perversity." The older man expostulated.

"Where is he?" Roland said as lightly as he could through clenched
teeth.

"It's a nice facility. But I don't think it's in our best interests
if I tell you where. Millie's got a soft heart and I'd rather not
have her worming the location out of you with constant requests to
bring her queer grandson home. It's better if she continues to think
he's run off to the Continent. The media will get tired of the story
sooner or later. In a way, that Polack or whatever he is, did us a
favor. At least, he can't try blackmail... it's too late, everyone
knows. Dammit! How could John be such a fool?! That boy has been
nothing but one disappointment after another. His brother was worth
ten times as much to this family."

"Bobby is dead..." Roland managed to get out.

"Too bad it isn't the other way 'round. We wouldn't be in this
situation. Bobby would have never..." Too late, Robert remembered who
he was speaking to.

Forgetting his mother's advice, Roland put down his drink, spilling
half of it. Walking over to his father, he punched him in the face,
knocking him to the floor. Roland grabbed the lapels of his father's
robe then dragged him to his feet. "Listen, old man. I'm only going
to say this once. If my son isn't home by tonight, *I'm* going to the
media and I'm sure they'll love it when I accuse you of kidnapping on
coast-to-coast television! How dare you!" Roland shoved his father
into a chair.

"I wouldn't give a damn if John was screwing all of the Chicago
Bears! He's the only son I have left! However, if I thought Bobby
would walk through that door in the next five minutes, do you really
think I'd care who *he* was sleeping with?! Did you think I'd be in
agreement with this?!" Roland raised his fist again.

To his credit, Robert Carter kept his head. "You're certainly filled
with family feeling all of a sudden." He observed drily, working his
jaw. "'The only son you have left'. What a lovely sentiment. I guess
you were too overcome with paternal emotion to fly home when your
precious little boy managed to get himself stabbed." Robert pulled
himself into a more dignified position. "Don't get on your liberal
high horse with me! Deep down, you're just as revolted as I am by
John's 'lifestyle'."

Roland was silent. When he finally spoke, his voice shook. "I didn't
come home when John was stabbed because Laura tried to kill herself
after *you* told her John had been attacked. You know how fragile she
is. I stupidly assumed that you and Mother would be there for John
until it was safe for me to leave Laura. She very nearly succeeded
that time. I didn't tell you because I thought you would tell John.
He had enough to worry about." Roland calmed himself somewhat. He
still needed to know where his son was.

"I know I haven't been a model father to my children and I accept
full responsibility for my failures, but I'll be damned if I let *my*
guilt allow you to hurt Johnny. Now, why don't you take the next
three minutes to think about my offer: John's release or your
arrest." Roland crossed to the desk and picked up the telephone.

"Operator? I want to be connected to Dr. Luka Kovac. I believe he's
at this address. Yes, it's an emergency---life or death." Roland
looked pointedly at his watch while waiting for the connection to be
made. "Dr. Kovac? My name is Roland Carter, I'd like to talk to you
about John..." From across the room, Robert heard the sound of Luka
hanging up. Roland glared while his father laughed nastily.

"You certainly convinced *him* of your sincere concern."

"Have you made up your mind?" Roland asked. The three minutes were up.

"I'm not about to tell you. If you have your way, that boy will ruin
everything we've worked so hard for. I will not countenance homo
degenerates in this family. I now see his lack of back- and
wristbones comes from you." Robert Carter folded his arms looking
smug.

"Shut up, Father." Roland glanced around the room. They were on the
fourth floor. There was only one window and one door. Robert looked
surprised as Roland jerked the phone line out of the wall and
unclipped the other end from the base of the instrument. "If you
think being imprisoned is so beneficial, let's see how it improves
*your* state of mind." Roland bound his father's wrists then tied him
to one of the columns supporting an array of rare books and prints.
Taking off his tie, he stuffed it into his father's mouth. "Don't
worry, as much as I'd like to see you choke to death on your own
venomous saliva, I'll have Mother check on you from time to time."
Robert couldn't conceal his relief.

"Don't get your hopes up, Father. *She* told me to shoot you." Roland
left the room, shutting the door. Robert grunted when he heard a key
turn in the lock. Roland raced downstairs to his mother.

"Did you find out where John is?"

"Not yet, but I'm working on it. I locked that sorry sack of shit in
his study. Keep an eye on him until I get back. I've left things so
he can't have John moved someplace else."

"Where are you going?" Millicent was worried. Roland looked capable
of anything. What had happened to her family?

"To put someone's mind at rest." Roland left the house and got into
the limo. Giving the driver John's address, he leaned back closing
his eyes. Robert's accusations had hit home. He *had* been a lousy
father but that was going to change. During the drive to John's
apartment Roland had time to think. He too, would have preferred that
John not be involved in a same-sex relationship. Nevertheless, he
couldn't bring himself to criticize his son. Hell, his shitty job at
fatherhood was probably the reason John found himself in the arms of
another man. How could he blame his child for something that was not
his fault? Even if Luka answered the door wearing a dress, Roland
vowed he'd do his best to be understanding.

* * * * *

Luka knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep after hanging up on
John's father. Laurencia's news that a witness had already come
forward had been the only pleasant phone call since he'd appeared on
television. Psychics, cranks, and reporters from every publication
from the "New York Times" to the "National Enquirer" had been calling
all day. First thing in the morning, Luka was going to get a second
number added to their account and let the machine handle the old one.

Sitting in the kitchen with a mug of cold coffee before him, he
jumped to his feet startled when there was a loud knock on the door.
Picking up John's softball bat, Luka went to open it. He rubbed his
eyes with his free hand. The stress must be getting to him. The man
standing there could have been John coming back home after an absence
of twenty years.

"Dr. Kovac, I know you must hate me, but please listen to me. John's
alive and as far as I know, he's all right."

Luka dropped the bat as the room began to revolve around him. The
next thing he knew, he was sitting in the kitchen, with a wet
dishtowel over his neck. Pulling it off, he looked up. "You know this
for certain?"

"Yes. I'm extremely sorry. John's grandfather had him committed to a
private facility and lied to my mother---to all of us. He said at
first that John had quarreled with him and decided to break with his
family. When Mother saw John on the television yesterday, Father lied
again. He told her you were a violent man and had abused your
partners in the past and that you were abusing my son. In other
words, he implied the 'quarrel' occurred when John was presented with
evidence about you. According to him, John is in Europe where it's
easier for gay people..."

"And she believed this?" Luka was astonished, relieved, over-joyed,
and furious. All this time, while he been going out of his mind---
wondering if John was alive or dead... Luka shook his head. "May God
forgive me, I could kill that old man."

"You'll have to get in line." Roland said bitterly.

"Where is John, can we go get him?"

"Not yet. My esteemed sire isn't talking, that's my fault. Only
Father knows where John is. My assistant is going through his office
now looking for the location of the facility. Those places aren't
cheap. The monthly fees are substantial. Father can't hide the fact
of that much money being paid out. In about a few hours or so, we
should be able to go and get my son."

"If he's still alive." Luka said flatly, he lived so long with
despair, it was difficult to sustain hope again.

"What do you mean? I know my father has acted like a total piece of
shit, but I'd doubt if even *he* would murder his own flesh and
blood."

"Suicide." Luka said quietly. "John has been treated for depression
ever since he was stabbed. Between our being separated and the fact
that he must know his own family locked him up like some kind of wild
animal, he might ..."

"Oh my God." Roland groaned. "Where's your phone?"

"In the living room." Luka replied as Roland ran out of the room.
Just as he reached for the receiver, the phone rang. He answered it.

"Luka?" It was a woman's voice.

"Hold on a moment, I'll get him." Putting his hand over the
mouthpiece, Roland called to Luka and handed him the phone.

"Luka, who was that?" It was Laurencia.

"John's father."

"Can you trust him?"

"Yes." Somehow, Luka knew this to be a fact.

"The FBI has located where John is being held. Get dressed. My car is
on its way. They're going to let us tag along as a favor. See you in
15 minutes." She hung up.

Roland wasn't prepared for the transformation as Luka's expression
became suffused with joy. He looked ten years younger. Suddenly,
John's falling in love with this man made sense. "They've found
him.", was all Roland said.

Beaming, Luka nodded as he grabbed his keys. "A car is coming to pick
us up."

Laurencia Carlton sighed as her car raced towards Luka and John's
apartment. The Fibbies had come through as usual. A simple matter of
a court order, a team of agents combing through Robert Carter's
personal finances and there it was. Wealth as such, no longer awed
her but she whistled in disbelief when her friendly Fed' told her
John's prison was charging the old man 125 thousand dollars a month---
a million dollars plus per year.

The car pulled up behind Roland's illegally parked limo. Luka and
Roland were waiting on the sidewalk. "Come on!" Laurencia called
through the open window. "They're holding a helicopter for us."
Roland and Luka quickly got in and the car sped off again.

After the introductions were made, they rode in silence to Midway.
Two FBI agents in typical dark blue suits were waiting beside a
military helicopter. They boarded, were strapped in by the flight
crew; members of the Air National Guard, as the senior agent gave the
pilot instructions. They lifted off immediately.

The noise from the engines was incredible. Luka closed his eyes and
prayed that they weren't too late. Roland Carter glanced over at him
and noticed his lips moving. Curious, he continued to watch as Luka
crossed himself and began praying the rosary. It was small, made of
stainless steel. The design had been developed for religious who
worked in hospitals. John had given it to Luka for his birthday,
explaining that it was easy to disinfect and could be with Luka
always.

The "rest home" was located in upstate Michigan. Finally, as the sun
rose behind them, the helicopter began to descend. Roland looked out
of the small window and saw luxurious grounds dotted with small
gardens. As they came closer, he could see figures on the lawns
dressed in white uniforms.

* * * * *

John came out onto the terrace early. He hadn't slept well, again.
Lighting a cigarette, he heard the sound of a helicopter in the
distance. He didn't think much of it. With the exception of
small 'copters used by the senior staff, nothing flew within miles of
this place. He got up and walked onto the lawn. Any thoughts of his
trying to escape had been quashed when he saw what had been done to
Cyril. As he wandered aimlessly, always in sight of an orderly or a
camera, John resigned himself to the fact that he would probably
remain in this first circle of Hell for the rest of his life.

The noise from the 'copter grew louder. John frowned, it didn't sound
like one of those belonging to his jailers. Looking up, he saw a
large olive drab helicopter flying low and still descending. All
thoughts of playing it safe disappeared as John frantically tried to
figure out some way to signal the craft. Spying a small pile of dead
leaves left by one of the grounds-keepers, John pulled out his
lighter. Just as he bent to set the dead foliage alight, he was
grabbed by two beefy orderlies.

"A limp-wristed pyromaniac. Looks like we're going to have to teach
him a lesson." One of them said in a nasty tone.

"Yeah, didn't your folks teach you about playing with matches?" The
other man deftly removed John's lighter from his fingers, twisting
his arm as he did so. "Now, are you going to put up a fight? If so,
you should know we are looking forward to beating the shit out of
you."

"Fuck off." John no longer cared. He might as well get this over with.

"My. You have a foul mouth, Doc." The first orderly slapped John's
face while his partner took hold of John's arms. "This will teach you
some respect..." The second man pulled what looked like a black jack
out of his pocket. John didn't feel any blows. The orderlies had
stopped what they were doing. They'd never disciplined anyone who was
grinning before. As John's look of joy deepened, they loosed their
hold. The three men watched as the helicopter descended to the lawn.

The helicopter landed and the door was opened. Two men in blue suits
got out. The orderlies suddenly remembered an urgent need to be
somewhere else and ran off. John stepped forward slowly, his hand
shading his eyes from the prop wash which had blown his would-be
signal pyre to hell and gone. The next person to emerge from the air
craft was Luka. He smiled and waved at John who waved back. Both men
were aware that they had an audience. In unspoken agreement, they did
not wish to add any more melodrama to the nightmare which was finally
drawing to a close. John stepped into Luka's arms and stood still,
revelling in the smell and feel of his lover. The noise from
the 'copter made speech impossible, so they said nothing.

Laurencia, Roland, the agents, and the flight crew watched as Luka
held John close to him, resting his cheek on the top of John's head.
Then, John looked up and softly wiped Luka's cheeks, he was smiling
though his face too, was wet. Luka gave a shout and lifted John into
the air, his arms clasping John's legs below the waist. Both men were
now laughing as John flung his outstretched arms around Luka's
shoulders.*

Laurencia Carlton, cynical, sophisticated, pragmatic; also had tears
in her eyes. She wasn't alone. The Federal agents were wiping their
eyes mumbling something about all the dust flying around. The pilot
and another member of the crew, who hadn't been asked and therefore
hadn't told, glanced at each other and nodded their approval.
Standing inside the air craft, Roland knew he'd never forget the
sight of John's face as Luka had lifted him. "Joyful" didn't even
come close to describing the beatific glow emanating from his younger
son. Roland swore that he would do whatever he could to atone for his
parental failures. In all of John's life, he'd never seen his child
this happy.

As the engine noises died away. Luka took John's face in his hands
and kissed him. To John, the feel of Luka's lips on his was like rain
on parched earth. He no longer cared about the fact that his
rescuers, many of the inmates, and a few of the staff were staring.
He put his arms around Luka's neck and returned the kiss with all he
had.

"I missed you." Luka said softly when he could speak.

"What took you so long?" John asked, mirth shining in his eyes.

Luka hugged him tighter, thanking God that John's spirit hadn't been
broken by this experience. The waiting, the uncertainty, the grief
and despair of the past months, washed over his soul and he began to
cry.

"Shhh. I'm here. I'm real. I'm going home with you. Oh my beloved,
Luka... You were never out of my thoughts. I wasn't treated too badly
apart from not being able to be with you. Shhh. It's over now,
beloved. I'm here." John murmured cradling Luka against his chest.

When Luka finally looked up, there it was. The smile that was his
alone. He kissed John's forehead and stood back. The administrator of
the facility and two subordinates had appeared.

"What is the meaning of this? This is private property. Who are you
people?"

Before the FBI agents could reply, John took Luka's hand in his and
in a loud voice said, "I would like to introduce you to Dr. Luka
Aleksandr Kovac. I love him very much. In fact, I am the happiest man
who ever lived." He looked up at Luka. "You're a citizen aren't you?"
Luka nodded. "So, I kept my promise.", John said solemnly as the
watching immates cheered.

"Are you really all right?" Luka asked as the FBI showed their badges
to the senior staff then escorted them back to the main building.

"I'm fine, Sascha. A little hungry though..." John's grin was back.

"They have some sandwiches and coffee on the helicopter." Luka dead-
panned anticipating John's next request.

"I think I'll wait until we get home and have some of that Croatian
sausage."

"You can have all you want." Luka was grinning now.

"You've lost weight. I see I'm going to have to fill you up." John
said wickedly as they headed hand-in-hand to the air craft. Just as
they reached the steps, John stopped. "Oh shit! I almost forgot!
Cyril!" Dragging Luka along with him, he raced across the lawn after
the Feds.

Two hours later, the helicopter took off. Luka thought the flight
home seemed to be five times longer than his outward journey. Prior
to take-off, he'd enveloped Laurencia in a bear hug, lifting her feet
from the deck. "Thank you for returning the favor on John's behalf.
You've given me my life back."

Gazing over to where John was helping to get Cyril strapped in,
Laurencia grinned. "Let's just say, I'm a sucker for pretty faces."
She winked and went to her seat.

John had obtained temporary custody of Cyril as his physician. He
would be admitted to County for tests and observation as the effects
of the Thorazine wore off. John was concerned. Reputable physicians
rarely prescribed the drug, knowing the potential for permanent
damage to the nervous system. When John and Luka had examined Cyril's
chart, both of them were extremely angry. The young man had been
given maximum dosage levels daily.

When John had finished attending to his friend, he straightened up
and saw his father. Roland came over and stood looking down at
Cyril's vacant features. "Dear God," he thought, "that
could have been John."

"Will he be Ok?"

"I think so. Luka and I checked his involuntary reflexes. They're
impaired somewhat, but he should recover."

"Son, I'm not going to try to apologize for what my father inflicted
on you and Dr. Kovac. When we get back to Chicago, I plan to have him
arrested on kidnapping charges. What he did was evil, vindictive, and
I hope I never see him again." Roland paused; he couldn't bring
himself to look his son in the face. "John, I am extremely proud of
you and I'm sorry that I took so long to say this. I'm also deeply
ashamed of the way I neglected you and your sister. Don't worry, I
won't place either of you in the awkward position of trying to
forgive me, because I'll never ask for it. All I do ask, is that you
put up with me as I attempt to do better." Roland said, his eyes on
the floor.

"You're here now aren't you?" John asked smiling. "Well, that's all
that matters. When I needed you the most, you came."

For the second time that day, Carter held a crying man in his arms.
That his father should cry, in front of other people, moved him
deeply, but his eyes remained dry. Looking over his father's head he
saw Luka watching them. Their smiles said all that was needed.

* * * * *

Laurencia had been busy with her cell' phone. When the helicopter
landed at Midway, an ambulance was waiting. The flight crew nearly
came to blows vying to be the first to help John and Luka get Cyril
off of the air craft and placed comfortably in the emergency vehicle.
Television reporters stood at a respectful distance, the camera
persons grinning. There'd be good news at six o' clock. John and Luka
hopped in the back of the vehicle; the EMTs riding up front. It was
their first private moment.

"Are you ready for the fuss they're going to make at County?" Luka
asked.

"More than ready." John's smile made Luka's heart turn over. So it
was, when the ambulance pulled into the bay at the hospital and the
EMTs opened the rear doors, Kerry and the entire ER staff were
treated to the sight of Luka kissing John.

The sound of cheering brought them back to reality. Blushing, John
jumped down and proceeded to give Cyril's bullet to Kerry, who
couldn't stop grinning. Everyone's professionalism returned however
as the still form was wheeled inside. When Cyril had been examined
and taken upstairs to a private room, the round of cheers began
again. Jerry and Malik hoisted John to their shoulders. He was
gratified but more than a little embarrased at the outpouring of
emotion from his friends.

"Hey guys! Put me down!" His voice was lost in the noise. Hospital
decorum was forgotten. Anyone trying to get sleep could forget it.
Finally, the uproar died down. Carter was released from his lopsided
human palanquin. Taking Luka's hand, he cleared his throat. "I'm
home.", he said simply. Then the hugs began. Through it all, Luka
never released John's hand. He was afraid to. When it was his turn to
speak, his voice was thick. "Thank all of you, for everything... was
all he could manage before he lost his voice. John embraced him as
the cheers began again.

"OK people, let's get back to work." Kerry yelled, still
grinning. "And as for *you*", she turned to John. "Into Exam 3, right
now."

"Dr. Weaver, I'm fine."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"It turned out that John's health was not all it could be thanks to
the stress he'd been under. His electrolyte balance was somewhat off
as a result of his frequent nervous vomiting. Taking no chances,
Kerry called upstairs to arrange for him to be admitted for 24 hours
of observation and tests. While John protested, his eyes never left
Luka's face.

Discerning the real reason for his reluctance, Kerry raised her hand,
calling a halt to Carter's objections. "Listen, you two. This will
probably be all over the media tonight. I'm admitting *both* of you.
Dr. Kovac is under-weight and could use some down-time. Besides," she
grinned mischieviously. "It's a semi-private room, with no phone and
a lock on the door. Just how much 'rest' do you two think you'd get
with your phone ringing off the hook and reporters camped outside
your apartment?"

John and Luka looked at each other. "Sorry, Dr. Weaver, I should have
known better than to question your medical judgement." Carter said
meekly, his eyes shining. "I *do* feel a little weak in the knees."

"I thought you'd see it my way." Kerry's grin had returned full
force. She nodded to Yoshi who'd come in with two pairs of
scrubs. "I'm sure Yoshi wouldn't mind picking up a few toiletries for
you from the pharmacy. Her parting shot had John blushing as the
other two grinned.

* * * * *

The room was quiet. Luka shut the door and locked it. Yoshi had been
on a shopping spree. A large fruit basket stood on the night stand.
Next to it was a tray containing sandwiches from Doc Magoo's. John
grinned when saw that the two beds had been pushed together and
attached to each other by the simple means of restraining straps
interlaced through their frames. Luka shut all of the blinds.

John began removing his clothing. "I could use a shower." He observed
quietly.

"Me too." Luka came over, catching John's hands in his own. He raised
the long fingers to his lips and kissed them one by one. He leaned in
to kiss John's waiting mouth then finished removing his clothes.
John, in turn, ripped Luka's shirt open, the buttons flying
everywhere. He placed his lips on Luka's chest inhaling deeply before
licking and teasing the nipples. He slid the shirt from Luka's
shoulders, his mouth once more covering his lover's. All the while
his hands were busy; undoing Luka's belt and trousers.

He knelt and removed Luka's shoes, socks, and trousers. When he
stood, Luka picked him up and carried him into the bathroom. John
exhaled, *now* he was home. How could those bastards at the
sanitorium ever think he would have given this up? Still held by
Luka, John reached into the shower and turned on the faucet. Luka
stepped into the warm water and slowly lowered John to his feet,
shivering slightly as his beloved rubbed against his erect penis.
Neither of them had said a word since shortly after entering the room.

They washed each other and not bothering to dry, returned to the
beds. Understanding Luka's need, John happily yielded, letting Luka
set the pace. Interspersed with the fruit were condoms and five tubes
of lubricant. Yoshi was a mind-reader. Silently, Luka prepared them
both. Placing a pillow under John's hips, he caressed his chest and
face before slowly entering. John sighed again. He felt completed,
the other half of himself had been restored. As Luka began to thrust
gently, John never took his eyes off his lover who was gazing back at
him.

After what seemed like hours of feeling Luka's hard penis slowly
moving inside him, John could no longer keep silent. Raising his hips
to meet Luka's slow powerful lunges, he moaned softly. Ohh, sweet
heavens... Faster Luka... His eyes fluttered closed as his orgasm
began building from the base of his spine. "Put your hands on me,
beloved. Make me come with you.", he whispered. Luka reached out and
began to stroke John's penis, pumping it in time with the increased
pace of his love-making.

John got his wish. Their climaxes shook them simultaneously. "JA
ljubav te, Janaskja." Luka said softly as he covered John's body with
his own. "JA ljubav te..." was the last thing John heard before
falling asleep wrapped in Luka's arms; warmed and fed by Luka's love.

Author's Notes:

* Thank you to the producers, directors, writers, and actors of the
film, "Ladyhawke". This beautiful, fanciful love story includes a
very romantic reunion scene. Rent the video, nuke some popcorn, and
prepare to enjoy yourselves thoroughly.

John woke after a several hours' sleep; the hospital smells and
unfamiliar room enhancing his momentary confusion over his
whereabouts. He'd dreamed about dreaming about making love to Luka
just as he'd done all those lonely nights before. Stretching, he
realized he wasn't alone. It hadn't been a dream. Luka was lying on
his side, looking at him.

"You slept well?"

"Oh yeah." John moved into the warmth of Luka's body. "You smell good
enough to eat." John grinned. "Do you think the cafeteria has any
Croatian sausage?"

"No. I got the last serving. Would you like to share it?"

"You're on!" John dove under the covers. "Oooh, it's a king-size
portion! It's a good thing I'm hungry..." One of his slender hands
emerged from beneath the sheet. Luka slapped a condom packet into
John's palm. The hand disappeared again.

Luka shifted his hips, feeling John's weight settling between his
legs. Gasping, he tossed his head back as a warm tongue began to
caress his engorged penis. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the
pillows as John's mouth continued to elicit bursts of sensation. Then
the mouth was gone. Luka felt the long tapering fingers brushing his
thighs, then the feel of latex being smoothed into place. The mouth
returned. John hadn't been kidding. He sucked hungrily while stroking
Luka's hips and stomach.

Turning his head, Luka bit the pillow to keep from shouting aloud. He
had no wish to alarm the entire hospital. John's erotic feast was
driving him to the edge; slowly, inexorably his orgasm drew near. In
response to Luka's writhing, John began to hum. Luka, despite this
most wonderful of all distractions, recognized the tune. It was the
American national anthem. Laughter sent him into a blinding climax
just as John hummed "the land of the free". From beneath the covers,
he heard John murmur "Play ball", then his flushed face appeared
framed in the folds of the sheets.

"I don't think there's much left. I was too hungry."

"Get up here!" Luka held out his arms as John wriggled upwards.

"Did you know I love you very much?" It was hard for Luka to believe
he had John back.

"Yep. Now what's all this I heard about you telling me so on
television?"

"I'm sorry, Janaskja. I wouldn't have been interviewed, except I was
desperate. Now, we won't have any privacy. Luka worriedly searched
John's face for a clue revealing his lover's mood. John took pity on
him.

"Shhh. It's Ok, Sascha. I was only teasing. Besides, I already told
you, once you became a citizen I'd planned on shouting my love from
the tops of tall buildings. You've saved me from laryngitis. I
suppose I could hire a sky-writer, though." John smiled. He'd never
liked deception, probably because he was lousy at it.

"You really don't mind?"

"No beloved. You were trying to bring me back to you. If the
situation had been reversed, I would have done the same thing." John
raised himself to look down at the man he loved. "Speaking of
reversing positions, aren't you hungry?"

"Starving." Luka slid down the bed, condom in hand. Using his arms to
help shift John's weight, he began to return the oral favors done to
him with interest and no small amount of skill. Half-kneeling, John
arched his back as he pumped himself into Luka's rapacious mouth. The
feel of lips, tongue, and teeth were making him quiver all over. When
he felt a finger pressing on his anus, he yelped aloud, then
smothered the sound against his shoulder. The moistened finger inched
its way towards John's prostate and John bit down on his lower lip to
keep silent. When his orgasm came, John felt as if his soul had left
his body. He literally floated back down to a supine position as Luka
moved upwards and captured him in a soul-restoring embrace. They lay
in each others arms, trading soft kisses as sleep overtook them once
more. Inspite of everything, neither man dreamed. Looking back, John
admitted exhaustion had its benefits.

In the morning, Luka awoke to find John curled up next to him. Again,
he gazed down at his lover quietly rejoicing in their reunion. Easing
himself out of bed so as not to wake John, he froze when the pattern
of the sounds changed. After months of trying to sleep alone, in a
silent apartment, Luka wondered if anyone had thought to write a
concerto for snores and orchestra. The thunderous noises emanating
from the small frame were music to his ears. Heading to the bathroom,
he stopped once more. On the nightstand was a silver tray covered
with a matching dome. They'd finished the sandwiches at three in the
morning. Luka lifted the heavy cover to find fresh fruit, coffee, and
croissants. A note was propped against the carafe.

"Don't worry. There was also some heated action at a poker game last
night to determine who would have the privilege of delivering Mr.
Carter's gift. He felt our hospital food wouldn't be appreciated. I
wonder why. Anyway, I won. Let me know if you want ear plugs. Yoshi."

Smiling, Luka went to the bathroom. When he emerged, John was sitting
up, his hair in his eyes. He hopped out of bed and kissed Luka on his
way to the toilet. When he returned, Luka was holding something red
in his hands. His caftan, Luka's robe, and changes of clothing had
also been delivered. John slithered into the silky garment and handed
Luka his dark green bathrobe. As far as he was concerned, Christmas
had come early.

"Morning Sascha." They kissed again. "Do I smell coffee?"

"It seems elves have been busy during the night." Luka grinned
pouring the familiar Jamaican blend into the waiting cups. He handed
John the note and watched as his blush proceeded from his collar bone
up to the roots of his hair. He'd noted most of the bed linens were
on the floor.

"I thought you'd arranged for this stuff to be brought here." John
said after he took his first sip.

"Nope. I wished I'd thought of it, however..."

"Well, at least it was Yoshi..." John said as he attacked the fruit.
There was a rap on the door.

*Now* they decided to knock. Come in!" John called out. "You guys
obviously have the key."

Roland Carter and a young man entered. The stranger wore steel-rimmed
glasses and looked as if he'd stepped from a news photo from the
twenties. Recognizing him from Cyril's many enraptured descriptions,
John rose from his chair and hugged the man. "You must be Charles."
Charles nodded. "Come with me." They left the room.

Luka and Roland stared at each other for a few seconds, then started
laughing. They figured by the time John realized he was walking the
halls of County General barefoot, in what amounted to a dress, he'd
need smelling salts to recover from the embarrasment. Roland was
first to sober himself. "How do you feel?", he asked quietly.

"Wonderful. Thank you for coming to see me yesterday, or is it
today?" Luka yawned.

"Yesterday." Roland replied. "Are you and John up to a family
conference?"

"That depends on the participants." Luka said stiffly.

"Don't worry, the old man won't be participating." Roland explained.

"I'm not so sure I should be either." Luka frowned. He resented the
pain this family had caused John.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Dr. Kovac. I was very surprised to
learn about you and John, and had the circumstances been different,
I'm not sure what my reaction would have been." Roland saw Luka about
to protest. "Hear me out, please. My oldest son died when he was only
thirteen years old. His death devastated my wife. To preserve what
remained of her mental health, I began taking her with me when I had
to travel for my work. I've had time to think about this. John's
depression was probably inherited from his mother. I'm more afraid of
losing him than I am afraid of what people will say about his
feelings for you. In fact, I now see the feelings you have for each
other are no different from those I have for my wife.

"What my father did to the two of you was my wake-up call. John's
happiness means more to me at this point than anything else. I'll be
the first to admit that wasn't always the case. You are the most
important part of his happiness. So, you should be there when we
discuss what will happen to the old man. I realize my family's past
treatment of John was shabby in the extreme and I am making no
excuses." He handed Luka his business card. "You two talk it over.
Call me when you've made your decision. Whatever it is, I'll
understand." Roland said softly.

"We'll be there." Luka replied, his objections silenced. He'd seen
the tears in Roland's eyes.

John was fully aware, he was wearing unorthodox attire. He didn't
care. As they waited for the elevator, he explained to Charles what
was going on.

"Cyril and I became good friends. He helped me keep it together."
John began. "We admitted him to our Psych Ward only because these
docs are the most familiar with psychotropic drugs, their side
effects, and so on. He's been treated with something to reverse the
effects of the Thorazine. Between that and seeing you, Cyril's going
to be Ok."

"How could his family do this to him?" Charles spoke at last. John
winced. He'd been asking that question in regard to himself for
months now. Somehow, he'd known his grandfather was behind his being
locked away. However, this did not bother him nearly as much as being
separated from Luka. He figured he was finally growing up. What his
family, or anyone else for that matter, thought about him, was of no
consequence.

"They acted out of ignorance. Mind you, I'm not excusing them, only
trying to explain." John said as they rode up. "Don't be alarmed when
you see him. The drug they gave him at that place is one of the most
powerful in the psychiatric arsenal. But its effects are fully
reversible with time." John smiled at the Charge Nurse who wide-eyed,
buzzed them in. When they reached Cyril's room, both men stopped and
stared. The "elves" had been at work here, too.

Cyril's bed was bedecked with a purple comforter. The walls were
covered with framed posters from musicals and films. Sandalwood
incense burned in a brass holder on the window sill. A note was
propped up next to the hot-house lilies on the nightstand. John
handed it to Charles who read it aloud.

"Dear Charles and Cyril, I talked with Dr. McIntyre and he felt it
was best to have Cyril surrounded by things that wouldn't remind him
he was in a hospital. At the time, I didn't know where you were
living so a friend of mine loaned these items to you. If you want to
add things of your own, give a list to the Nurse, she'll make the
arrangements. Good Luck, Roland Carter."

John smiled at the thought of his father playing the role of interior
decorator. "Friend" indeed... two of the posters still had price
stickers on them. He went over to the bed and gently shook Cyril's
shoulder. After a few minutes, the expressive green eyes opened and
slowly focused on John.

"Where am I?" Cyril began to sit up then he saw Charles. In one swift
move he was out of bed and in the arms of his lover. John stepped
outside to give them some privacy. Ten minutes later, Charles
beckoned for him to return. Cyril was back in bed, smiling. It was a
lovely sight to see.

"Is that your caftan? You look great in it. Luka has excellent taste.
Wish I could say the same for whoever decorated this room." His
speech was somewhat slurred, but otherwise, his brain was working
just fine.

"That was my father." John said laughing at Cyril's realization that
he'd just put his foot in his mouth.

"Oops. Well, I suppose I could get used to it...", he said looking
around dubiously.

"I don't think you'll be in here much longer." John offered. "You're
making an excellent recovery. Here are my phone numbers. Call anytime
if either of you have questions. By the way, if you need
any 'toiletries'..." John gave this word special emphasis. "Ask the
nurse to locate Yoshi. He'll be more than willing to get you whatever
you need. Have fun." John waved and shut the door and headed back to
his room. If this kept up, County could balance its budget by
becoming a house of assignation.

"I see Father left." John observed when he'd returned.

"Yes. There's a family conference at three. I said we'd be there."
Luka smiled. John really looked handsome in that color. "How's Cyril
doing?"

"Great. He's recovering much faster than we expected. Right now, I
think Charles is helping him with his physical therapy." John
grinned. "What is it?" Luka looked like the proverbial cat who had
canary feathers on his whiskers.

"I love you."

"I love you too." John still looked puzzled.

"Come here, there's something I want to ask you." Luka also had a
promise to keep.

John sat in Luka's lap and kissed him. "What do you want to know?"

"Will you marry me?" Luka asked softly.

"You're serious." John said. He and Luka often called each
other "husband" but he hadn't given any real thought to their
actually being permitted to marry.

"Uh-huh."

"Of course I will. But what minister or priest in their right mind
would perform the ceremony?"

"That part's taken care of. What I meant was, would you be willing to
marry me in a church with attendants, a big reception, and all that
goes with it."

"Yes. Yes, I would. I would've asked *you*, but I figured you didn't
want to be reminded of your first wedding." John said slowly.

"This *would* be my first wedding." Luka replied nuzzling John's
slender neck. My wife and I had a civil ceremony. It was a mixed
marriage; she was Orthodox.

"Oh. Well this one wouldn't be." John said shyly.

"What do you mean? Your family isn't Catholic."

"No, they're not; but *I* am."

"Since when?"

"Since my senior year in prep school." John answered smiling at
Luka's surprise.

"You converted. Why?"

"It's kind of a long story..."

"We've got time. I really want to know."

"Well it started after my brother died. I told you his death hit my
family pretty hard. My mother couldn't deal with it. So, Father took
her with him when he traveled. My sister was busy with school and her
friends and I sort of mooned around the house feeling sorry for
myself. Our housekeeper at that time was Irish and Catholic. She
became my surrogate Mom. Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Very." Luka said wondering why John had never mentioned this before.

"One Wednesday night, I pestered her, Mrs. Riordan, to take me with
her to church. My sister was at a friend's house and my grandparents
were also out of the country. I didn't want to be alone. So she took
me to her church for the Novena. After the prayers were said, she lit
candles for her late husband and her parents. She explained they
served the same purpose as the prayer wheels Bhuddists use: visual
reminders to others that they should pray for all those in need of
help.

"You see, no one at home mentioned my brother. It was if he'd never
lived. I liked the idea of a religious tradition that provided ways
for you to remain connected to those you'd lost. After accompanying
her to services for a while, I asked if I could join her church and
she kind of lost it. She was scared my family would be displeased so
she tried to talk me out of the idea. Well you know how stubborn I
can be." John grinned.

"I got my way at last when she realized I'd started taking catechism
classes at another church. I made my first Communion at her parish,
though. I was a regular communicant until Lucy and I were attacked. I
was mad at God for letting her die." John admitted
reluctantly. "While I was in Atlanta, listening to speakers at NA
meetings describing the virtues of the Higher Power, I found my faith
again.*

"Why haven't you told me this?" Luka had never heard John mention,
let alone seen him actually going to, church since he'd known him.

"I guess I was ashamed for doubting God's existence; especially after
he blessed me with you. Anyway, you never asked me about religion."
John explained. "And finally, husband-to-be, I wanted to surprise you
when you proposed."

"Are you keeping any more secrets?" Luka asked.

"Nope, that's it." John kissed the tip of Luka's nose. "Actually, I'd
planned to tell you long before this, but my grandfather kinda got in
the way."

* * * * *

Roland sent a car to pick up John and Luka. He was taking no chances.
Although he didn't think Robert would pull any more stunts,
nevertheless the recent publicity had him concerned. His family had
made a science out of maintaining a virtual absence from the media.
His children had grown up without having to worry about being
recognized as scions of an extremely wealthy family. All of that had
changed.

When the limousine pulled up to the house, Luka whistled. "My God. I
had no idea, John. You actually grew up here?"

"Yeah. It was like living in a museum. When my brother was alive, it
was pretty OK. After he died most of the life went out of the house.
Believe me, a mausoleum has more warmth than this place." They were
shown into a sitting room where Millicent, Roland, and the family
lawyer were waiting. Millicent rushed over to her grandson and hugged
him. From the look on his face, Luka could tell that this was an
unusual event.

"Father thought I was bluffing when I said I'd have him arrested for
kidnapping. Well, he's about to find out I was deadly serious."
Roland began when John and Luka had taken seats. "His own pride is
going to hang him. He still thinks I'm the fool for bringing my son
home."

The lawyer nodded in response. "The DA's office assured me, we have
more than enough evidence to indict. Between the private investigator
who bugged your apartment, illegally I might add, to the shady
characters who actually did the abducting; there will be little or no
difficulty in obtaining a guilty verdict.

John and Luka exchanged looks. John had wondered how his grandfather
had discovered their secret. Thinking how they had very nearly
returned to their home last night, caused both men to shudder. John
spoke up. "I appreciate our being included in your discussion, but I
have to wonder why you need us."

"You are the primary injured parties. The decision to prosecute
cannot be finalized without your cooperation." The lawyer explained.

John shook his head. "I'm sorry. I don't want any part of this."

"What?!" Roland was surprised.

"I'm really sorry, Father. As a result of this incident, Luka and I
will be living in a gold fish bowl. Our family's privacy has gone
into the toilet." He paused to take Luka's hand. "I don't blame Luka
for going to the media. If he hadn't, I would probably still be in
that ermine-covered hell hole. But I don't want a lengthy trial on
top of everything else. The best revenge is living well. I for one,
want to try and put my life back together and forget any of this ever
happened."

"That's very generous of you, dear." Millicent spoke for the first
time. I don't want to risk a trial either."

"Mother!"

"Let me finish, Roland. John's right. I also value our privacy and
thanks to the man I thought I knew as my husband, it's been severely
compromised. However, my reasons for by-passing the legal system to
obtain justice are not based on any desire to make it easier for
Robert. Our wealth is a fact. People have been known to purchase 'Not
Guilty' verdicts before. Another fact: John's relationship with Dr.
Kovac..." She smiled at Luka. "...though accepted by us and approved
of, is still considered morally repugnant by many others. Voir dire
notwithstanding, I don't trust a majority of any jury to see beyond
that issue and make an objective decision. How many other families
have been tempted to do what Robert did? Our money made it easier for
him. There's too great a chance he'll walk away with just a slap on
the wrist."

"Mother, I can't believe you don't think we have enough evidence."
Roland was not giving up that easily.

"Son, the evidence is more than sufficient. I simply don't trust the
legal system to use it properly. I did not mean to imply that he
would get away with this. I propose he be committed. It's obvious
he's not in his right mind. It would be fitting justice for him to
spend the remainder of his life in a place similar to the one he
tried to keep John in. There would be no jury, no trial, no way for
him to escape responsibility for trying to destroy the happiness,
maybe even the life, of another human being." The room fell totally
silent, then slowly Luka began to clap his hands. He stood up and
John joined him. A slow smile spreading over his features, Roland,
too saluted his mother.

The lawyer merely nodded. "You'll need power of attorney."

"I'll have no difficulty obtaining it." Millicent
replied. "Those 'shady characters' you mentioned must have enough
information regarding illegal transactions that Robert instigated for
me to blackmail him into signing it over. The press will be shocked
to learn that due to the recent stress regarding John's
disappearance, Robert George Buchanan Carter suffered a massive
stroke from which it is unlikely he'll ever recover. Honoria Barbara
and her father will take over the company as CEO's here and in Europe
and I will assume my husband's seat as Chairman of the Board." She
turned to her grandson. "John, do you think this is a good idea?"

"Yes, Gamma. The company couldn't be in better hands." John said
gravely. He could see how much this was costing his grandmother.

"What about you, Dr. Kovac?"

"Please, call me Luka. And yes, I think this way justice will be
served with a minimum of additional suffering to the victims in this
matter."

"Well then, that's settled. Richard, if you could have the papers
drawn up for me regarding power of attorney, I'll have them signed
within 48 hours. Binnie Braithwaite once mentioned a place in Arizona
that would be perfect for our needs." Millicent smiled thinly. Are we
ready for tea?"

"Ahm, before you start pouring, Gamma, Luka would like to ask
something." John's face and his caftan, had he been wearing it, would
have been a perfect match.

"Mr. Carter. Earlier today, I asked John to marry me. He agreed.
Nevertheless, we'd both feel better if we had your blessing." Luka
stated simply as another silence fell.

Roland's hesitation lasted all of four seconds. Shaking Luka's hand
he nodded. "You have my blessing and more. As father of the
groom...", he winked at his son's open-mouthed stare. I will be
delighted to assume all financial responsibility for the
arrangements. You guys make 'em and send me the bills.

"You're joking." John couldn't believe his ears. He'd been expecting
reluctant tolerance from his family, at best---at the worst; not-so-
subtle hints that he was still disappointing them.

"No." Roland replied. Listen, son. I saw how you looked when Luka
stepped out of that helicopter. If he is the person who can make you
that happy, I have no right to deny you or him the opportunity to
make it last. Besides, I don't think your sister is ever going to
settle down. Maybe your wedding will give her the nudge to start
making plans to supply great grand-kids for this family."

"I agree. She and that friend of hers have been carrying on without
benefit of clergy for long enough." Millicent smiled. She should have
known her grandson would take the high road in this as he did in
everything else. "Gracia, tell Margarethe to skip the tea and send in
some champagne instead. This is an engagement party now."

"Make mine ginger ale, Gamma." John grinned. So much has happened
recently, I'm already giddy."

Author's Note:
* Once again, thank you Ms. Roberts for "Desperate Vigil".

"Dr. Corday?" Carter poked his head into her office. He'd been back
at work for almost a month.

"Come in, groom-to-be." Elizabeth Corday went to put her daughter
into her playpen. Little Ella proceeded to make a quite lengthy but
unintelligible speech in her favorite "Uncle's" honor. John
immediately took her from her mother and sat down with Ella in his
lap.

"Dr. Corday, I need your help. I know it seemed the fates conspired
to do their best to ruin your wedding day, but nevertheless, it was
one of the nicest I've ever been to. Did you use a coordinator?"

Elizabeth Corday rolled her eyes. "Yes. Take my advice and save your
money. A half-witted paraplegic budgie bird could do the same job
with half the fuss."

"Watching your language, huh?" John grinned as Ella did her best to
repeat her mother's last statement.

"And then some. I gave birth to a mimic. When she's with me, she
gurgles with a British accent. With Mark, it's vintage Californian
with an overlay of regionless military brat. Every now and then we
recognize a few words, so we're both taking precautions." Elizabeth
explained, talking in counterpoint with Ella. "Seriously, you and
Luka pick one evening, sit down and fight it out like gentlemen.
Then, dump the whole thing in your grandmother's lap."

"I suppose she could help. It's just we want this to be special for
the both of us. I'm afraid Gamma may get carried away."

"Well, then the *three* of you fight it out. Actually, if I had it to
do all over again, I'd go with 'less is more'." Whatever you do,
someone is bound to be critical, so please yourselves and let
everyone else take a flying..."

"Figure eight? Fricassee? Frisbee?" John laughed as Dr. Corday
clapped her hand over her mouth, swallowing what had promised to be a
choice Anglo-Saxon oath.

"All of the above and a few more. When you two have made up your
minds, call me. I have some phone numbers of florists, limo services,
caterers, and what-not that you *shouldn't* use."

Laughing, John put Ella in the playpen and left to go back to the ER.
Kerry's surprise "coming out" gift had been a change in their
schedules. It had taken some juggling to achieve, but now John and
Luka had identical shifts at least 60% of the time. John took the
chart Randi offered and headed to the next patient.

Luka quietly called the time of death for an elderly victim of heart
failure. Since John's return, he'd regained most of the weight he
lost. He thanked the nurses for their assistance and went to break
the news to the family. The old man's daughter and grand-daughters
cried while their respective spouses held them. Luka left them to
comfort each other and went to find John.

"Dr. Carter?" Luka looked into Exam One. Both men, maintained proper
decorum at work. Inspite of this, John couldn't help smiling every
time Luka used his title and surname; remembering times when they'd
played "doctor".

"I'll be finished here, shortly." John removed the blood pressure
cuff from his patient while Lydia checked the thermometer. Luka
nodded and headed to the lounge. A few minutes later, John came
in. "What's up?"

"I think I've managed to find a date for the wedding that won't
inconvenience too many people. How does November 15th sound? It's the
middle of the month. God willing, things should be relatively slow
here. It's after the city elections, so Alderman Carlton's schedule
should be almost clear." Luka ticked off his reasons on John's
fingers then kissed his palm.

"Sounds good to me. Is the church available?"

"That's the first thing I looked into. Yes." The church they'd found
had been recently purchased by the Chicago Dignity congregations.
Formerly a parish church whose shrinking congregation had been merged
with another, St. Stanislaus was in pretty good shape. Although no
longer officially rostered with the diocese, the architectural
features were those Luka was used to.

"Let's do it then. The draft invitation should be delivered this
afternoon." John got up to go back to work. "Was there anything else?"

"Yes. I love you." Luka smiled.

"You two are a menace to single people everywhere." Jing-Mei had come
in just in time to hear Luka's declaration. "How's the wedding
coming?"

"Great. We just set the date. November 15th."

"Suppose I'm working?" Jing-Mei had been overjoyed to discover she
was wrong about Carter's whereabouts. She'd missed her friend very
much. His return almost made up for Malucci's smug I-told-you-so
attitude.

"Not to worry. My father is going to get enough temps to cover for
everyone who wants to go. Listen, I've got to get back, some lab
results I've been waiting on should be done." John kissed Luka's
cheek and ran out of the door.

That evening, they took Dr. Corday's advice and finished the plans
for their ceremony. Trusting to Millicent Carter's excellent taste,
they left most of decorating decisions for her. John knew she was
deeply affected by her husband's perfidy. He'd introduced her to
Cyril and Charles, suggesting they work on the wedding together.
Cyril all by himself, would be welcome entertainment. The two of them
would be more than enough to keep Millicent from brooding too much.

"Well, that's it. Two Armani tuxedos for us. Generic ones for the
male attendants and something elegant for the women that can be worn
again without looking like a recycled bride's maid dress." John put
down the legal pad they'd used to record their ideas.

"You've been hanging around Cyril and Charles waay too much." Luka
held John as they sat in the living room. Two of the posters used in
Cyril's hospital room covered holes in the walls where the listening
devices had been removed. To John's overwhelming relief, no devices
had been planted in the bedroom.

"You don't know the half of it. If those two have their way, we'll
all be in period costumes." John grinned and shared Cyril's elaborate
suggestion for a "tribute to the great Hollywood fashion designers".

"And the food?" Luka licked John's ear enjoying his lover's
involuntary shiver.

"Croatian sausage?" John teased.

"Nope. It's in limited supply." Luka produced another shiver.

"Figured as much. How's about a blend of both our traditions? Over-
cooked veggies and boiled fowl to represent my watered down
Englishness and something piquant and spicy to represent your sexy
Croatian heritage."

"Piquant?"

"Yeah." John puckered up to repeat the word. He never got the chance.
Twenty minutes of making out on the sofa like teenagers resulted in
both men racing to the bedroom. John took off his caftan and flopped
onto the bed.

"No fair. As long as you wear that thing, you'll always be undressed
first." Luka's socks sailed into the hallway, followed by his briefs.
The hamper was out there somewhere.

"That's the whole point. I get to watch you strip almost every
night." John smiled bobbing both his heads.

"You're hopless. You know that, don't you?" Luka positioned himself
on top of John.

"Yep. The minute I first laid eyes on you, it was all over." Wrapping
his legs around Luka's waist, John kissed him. Afterwards, John's
loopy grin testified to the fact that he still became dizzy. Luka
softly stroked John's face and throat not wanting to rush things.
John had other ideas. "Take me, Luka. I want you inside me."

Luka reached for the lubricant and a condom. Since being reunited
they'd almost needed to buy them by the case. He applied the jelly to
John and opened the little packet.

"Let me." John took the circle of latex and slowly rolled it into
place. Then he softly stroked on more lubricant.

"Raise your hips, Janaskja." Luka's voice had deepened. He placed two
pillows underneath his lover and then moved into position. Without
any preliminaries, he entered John in one strong thrust. John caught
his breath.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh yeah. That feels magnificent. Fast and hard, Luka. Please?"

Luka grinned and quickly established an energetic rhythm. He did not
touch John's penis, wanting to see if he would be able to come
unaided. He smoothly made an adjustment, matching the pace of John's
reciprocal thrusts. The mattress protested at the abuse, but neither
man heard it. Luka's climax, when it came, was all-consuming.
Overlapping waves of pleasure raced over his entire body. When his
reason returned, he looked down and saw evidence of John's orgasm. He
withdrew carefully, then enveloped John in a gentle hug. He could
feel his beloved's heart as it slowed to a normal speed.

"Sascha?" John's voice was drowsy with satisfaction. "If sex was a
scientific discipline, we'd be spending our honeymoon in Stockholm."

"Why?"

"Because that's where they'll award you the Nobel Prize."

"We'd have to share it." Luka said modestly, remembering earlier that
morning when John had him shouting as he came. "And for his ceaseless
research into the field of psycho-sexual gratification, Dr. John
Truman Carter is hereby awarded this year's Nobel Prize in medicine."
Luka recited grinning.

"And for his creative and innovative approach to the applied physics
of kinetic energy, Dr. Luka Aleksandr Kovac is awarded the Nobel
Prize in Anything-but-Mechanical Engineering.", John laughed. "Sorry,
but I got this image of both of us, striding up the aisle in the
auditorium, buck naked, our cocks bouncing all over the place..."
Luka snorted, then gave into the moment. John might not have been
able to tell a joke to save his life, but he definitely possesed an
excellent sense of humor. That night they slept in peace. It was not
a typical occurence.

* * * * *

"Luka!" John's shouts reverberated through the bedroom startling his
partner awake. He was having another nightmare. Luka gently woke him
and held him close. "It's alright Janaskja. I'm here. You don't have
to be afraid anymore."

John hiccupped and sighed brokenly. "I'm sorry I woke you." John said
when he'd stopped shaking. He was beginning to think bad dreams would
be a part of his life from now on. There'd been nightmares about
Dennis and the events leading up to his death. Then, his failure with
his cousin Chase. Now, just when the Valentine's Day attack was
finally fading from his dreams; his abduction and emotional torture
supplied additional reasons to wake him screaming.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, but I suppose I should. I've *been* talking about it.
With my therapist, with you, Father, Gamma, Cyril, the odd stranger
on the El'..." He smiled sadly. It was the usual... about the letter
they wanted me to send you." John shivered convulsively. "It was
horrible. They kept badgering me to tell you that I'd made a mistake,
that I didn't love you. I refused to cooperate every time." John
nearly gagged remembering the foulness they wanted him to copy and
send to Luka.

"In my dreams, the letter *has* been sent and somehow I can see you
as you read it and begin crying. I'm calling your name, trying to say
it's all lies, then I wake up. Please believe me, I would have died
in that place rather than do that to you." John was weeping now. "I
want the nightmares to stop. Just for once, I'd like to fall asleep
and not be worried about waking you up and half of Chicago. You know,
be normal."

"I know, beloved." Luka held John tenderly stroking the tears from
his face. "I want that too. In time, it will happen. Until then, try
not to worry too much about it. You... we are doing the best we can
under some pretty extraordinary circumstances. Frankly, I'd be more
worried if you showed no reaction at all. Look at the progress you've
made. Two years ago, the John I knew would have denied the existence
of the problem, insisting everything was OK. We're both seeing
someone regularly and coping the best way we can." Luka shifted his
position so that John could lie more comfortably in his arms. "Close
your eyes and think about our wedding. In less than a two days, we'll
be man and man."

"Oh man." John snuggled closer. "Thank you, Sascha. You're a pretty
wonderful guy. It's a shame you haven't settled down." John shivered
once more, then was still. "JA ljubav te."

* * * * *

Elizabeth Corday gave her nanny some final instructions then ran out
to the car. Chicago in November can be beautiful or it can be
horrendous. Usually, it's the latter. A cold wind was whipping a
torrential rain everywhere. As Mark Greene put the van in gear, he
grinned remembering. It rained the day of their wedding, too.

St. Stanislaus, re-dedicated as the Church of the Holy Comforter, had
recently been cleaned of a century's worth of grime and soot. The
warm brick seemed to glow, even in the rain. By the time Mark and
Elizabeth had turned their vehicle over to one of the parking valets,
they had only minutes to spare before the ceremony was scheduled to
start.

In the vestry, half of the twelve attendants were checking their
watches. Jing-Mei, Kerry, and Haleh were wearing simple two-piece
dresses: long skirts with a matching pearl grey long-sleeved tunics
and pearl grey low-heeled shoes. Since there would be no bouquet,
each woman wore a small corsage of pink rosebuds and Baby's Breath.
Dave, Malik, and Yoshi looked very handsome in their tuxedos, and
very nervous. Laurencia, resplendent in a peach-colored beaded gown
was laughing with Luka. As he had no family in the United States, she
had eagerly agreed to his request to act in loco parentis. Only half
joking, she referred to the gathered attendants as the "Rainbow
Coalition" in recognition of their ethnic diversity. Only Cyril had
the nerve to refer to her as the "Fairy Godmother."

In the ornate narthex, John was also laughing watching Mark as he
struggled into his cummerbund, helped by David Carlton. Married life
was definitely having an affect on his waistline. Lydia and Chuny
were using a couple of towels to blot the rain drops from Elizabeth's
dress. The door opened again and Peter Benton came in with his son on
his shoulders; Reese holding a raincoat over both of them. He had
been absent from County on loan to a hospital in Pennsylvania during
the months of Carter's absence. Nevertheless, he'd stayed in touch by
phone. John's sister, wearing a more elaborate version of the grey
ensemble, took Reese. She was the chief female attendant. Peter gave
Carter a hug.

"We'd about given you up." John said to his chief male attendant,
signing for Reese. There was no best man, he'd explained to Peter
since that title could only be applied to the man he was marrying.

"Bad traffic!" Reese replied.

"It's awful." Elizabeth agreed pinning on her corsage. "Carter, you
look like a billion pounds sterling." She approved of the Armani tux.
In deference to Charles's demands for color, both grooms wore scarlet
Windsor ties.

"Thanks..." John replied. The organ began the voluntary.

"OK, girls and boys, that's your cue." Cyril was dressed in an
elegant dark grey tuxedo which set off his ash blond hair and green
eyes. After one meeting with Millicent Carter, it was a case of
mutual admiration. They had worked well together to bring this event
to fruition. Andrew Carlton and the other five attendants lined up
behind Honoria and Peter Benton. Cyril gave the signal and they
walked sedately down the long aisle. They were met before the
elaborate chancel by the remaining attendants, led by Laurencia and
Father Thomas.

The organist began the processional and half of the guests craned
their necks to watch as John Truman Carter entered the sanctuary. No
one knows who started it, but a thunderous applause brought a flush
to the groom's cheeks. As the final measures of the music began, Luka
stepped from the vestry and joined John at the transept. They arrived
at the altar together just as echoes of the last triumphant bars rose
to the vaulted ceiling.

Roland and Millicent Carter gave John away while Laurencia did the
same for Luka. In light of the fact that the Catholic Church could
not officially sanctify their union, John and Luka had ommitted the
Eucharist from their ceremony. Instead, both men had attended Mass
earlier that morning. Now, as they knelt before Father Thomas, he
used a rosary to join their hands instead of his stole. Luka had
insisted on this, saying that prayers had brought them together,
preserved them both during John's abduction, and would keep them
together.

Although John and Luka had exchanged rings early in their
relationship, Roland Carter provided new ones for the wedding. Father
Thomas proceeded to bless the two simple bands made of surgical steel
that neither man would ever remove again. When Roland had offered to
purchase gold or platinum, John refused, preferring the simpler, less
expensive metal. "Nothing is stronger than steel.", he'd
explained. "Except our love for each other." Luka quietly finished
his lover's thought making John smile and bringing tears to
Millicent's eyes.

The sight of the two handsome men as they solemnly knelt in the light
of the numerous candles was very moving. Their voices making the
Latin responses were clearly heard even by those in the farthest
pews. Just before Father Thomas handed them the rings, both men stood
and were given lit tapers by the nearest attendant. John and Luka
walked over to a small table containing six candles and six
photographs.

Elizabeth wept openly when she heard each man call the names of those
who were absent. John lit candles before the images of Marije, Anja,
and Solje, praying that Luka's family would understand he was not a
replacement for them but rather, another beneficiary of Luka's
abundant capacity to love. Luka, in turn, lit candles before the
pictures of Bobby Carter, Dennis Gant, and Lucy Knight.

All Soul's Day had occurred two weeks ago and John had wanted part of
their ceremony to honor their dead. When he'd suggested it, Luka had
been pleased that John wished to pay tribute to his late family and
agreed at once. The rings were put on, the final blessings given,
then Father Thomas's strong voice said, "In token of this marriage,
you may kiss your partner."

Luka bent his head slightly and pressed his lips to John's
cheek. "No, really kiss him, otherwise, you won't be married!"
Someone called out. John put his arms around Luka and kissed him
deeply. "That's better!" The same guest called out. The ER staff
assumed Malik had done it again. The recessional music began and hand-
in-hand, John and Luka walked back up the aisle.

Whereas the wedding had been a relatively sedate affair; the
reception was a bona fide blow-out. The parish multi-purpose room had
been transformed by Charles into a cross between a medieval banquet
hall and a high-tech dance palace. There was no band, only three
state-of-the art sound systems with stacks of custom-burned CDs. The
wedding party was seated on a dais surrounded by candle-lit tables
decorated with small bunches of rosebuds. When John remarked on their
beauty, Luka finally told him their most personal significance.* John
almost choked on his sparkling grape juice. He'd just managed to
recover his composure when the first course was served. It was
cucumber salad, his contribution to their menu. Months later, many of
the guests were still wondering why both grooms had laughed
themselves into hysterics.

At the end of the meal, Roland Carter stood, clinking his knife
against a glass. Between the music and the dull roar of conversation,
he was wasting his time. Randi solved his problem. Standing on her
chair she put two fingers in her mouth and blew a piercing whistle.
Silence fell in time for everyone to hear her omni-present wad of gum
pop like a champagne cork.

"Thank you all for joining us in this celebration. I know John and
Luka consider many of the people in this room to be family.
Nevertheless, owing to the weather, some family members were
delayed..." his eyes on the doors, he nodded to the usher who flung
them open. Shouts went up as Doug and Carol with the twins came in
followed by Susan Lewis, Jeannie Boulet, and her family. The ER staff
rushed to greet the late-comers. A few minutes later, they looked up
startled to see John, tipped off by his father, streaking for the
door. The guests watched as he hugged a frail-looking woman who'd
entered shyly. He'd unhappily resigned himself to his mother's
absence understanding that her health would not allow her to travel.
Roland had not mentioned the possibility of her making the trip
afraid that at the last minute her physician would veto it.

Laura Carter slowly walked back to the high table with her son. Many
of John's friends noticed her uncanny resemblence to Anna del Amico.
John presented her to Luka who rose and kissed her hand. She smiled
more warmly this time and gave him a quick hug. Suddenly the most
unearthly music rang out from the speakers. It had taken Luka some
time to track down recordings of the traditional Yugoslavian women's
choirs. As the vibrant, somewhat dissonant harmonies swirled through
the air, Luka led John to the center of the empty dance floor.
Placing his hands on his husband's shoulders he began the intricate
steps of a centuries-old wedding dance. **

They'd practiced for hours, so their footwork matched perfectly as
the two men wove the elaborate circular pattern. First, dancing
together, then apart, then finally coming together again. Halfway
through, the guests began to clap in time cheering them on. Their
accompaniement ended on a triumphant shout and a waltz began,
signalling for the guests to join the couple on the dance floor.
Roland, Millicent, and Laura Carter left shortly after each had
danced in turn with the grooms. Cyril and Charles nudged each other
grinning appreciatively at the sight of Roland Clairmont Carter
dancing with his son and then Luka. "It's a shame it's anatomically
impossible for John and Luka to have kids. They'd be drop-dead-to-die-
for gorgeous." The party lasted for nearly six hours. There would
definitely be a shortage of ice-packs in the ER tomorrow.

Finally, it was all over. Luka and John bid farewell to their guests
and got into the limo' that would take them to the airport. If their
chauffeur had once turned around, he would have probably driven onto
a sidewalk. John and Luka's kisses lasted until the long car pulled
up to the entrance for the VIP transit lounge. Twenty minutes later,
the Carter's jet took off for San Francisco.

Author's Notes:

* Luka's private nickname for John's anus. I couldn't resist. KP

** You've got to hear this music to believe sounds such as these
can be produced by human voices. Five- and seven-part harmonies, plus
unusual time signatures... all in all a most strange and quite
compelling music. KP

This chapter is humbly dedicated to Ceindreadh, the Daughter of
Erin. Although my story was completed weeks ago, I read her
delightful "Interlewd" parts 1 and 2 in which ... well,
you'll have to read it for yourself. I will not spoil her lovely
work by dropping too many hints. Thank you Ceindreadh for your
marvellous "Waiting" series starring my second favorite
couple: Dr. Dave "Delicious" Malucci and Dr. Luka
"Luscious" Kovac. Readers, if you want to read a Mistress of
the genre, check it out!

The wedding was over. John and Luka slept as the plane made its way
to San Francisco. Eschewing beach resorts and the like, both grooms
wanted to go to a place where two men could register together in a
hotel, have dinner, go dancing, and there would be no comments made.
Despite the tragic impact of the AIDS pandemic, San Francisco was
still a gay old town.

Shortly after boarding, the steward set out soft drinks and snacks
and made it very clear that they would be on their own for the
duration of the flight. The lights in the spacious cabin were dimmed.
John and Luka strapped themselves in as the jet taxied to the runway.

"It was a wonderful party." John observed yawning. They'd been up
since dawn.

"It was." Luka agreed stretching out his long legs. He could get used
to travelling in private jets.

"I hate to say it, but if I don't get some sleep, I'm going to need
the paddles to keep me awake." John yawned again.

"You looked magnificent today. I'll be the envy of everyone now that
you're officially mine." Luka leaned over and kissed his brand-new
husband.

"It's love, my love. All grooms are gorgeous." John grinned. "Kiss me
again, please."

"Any special reason?"

"Yes. I want to see what it feels like to combine your 'elevator
effect' with a jet taking off."

"*That's* my favorite researcher." Luka leaned over again, placing
his mouth on John's. They'd been in the air some minutes before
either man could speak.

"Wow." John said quietly.

"Amen." Luka looked at him in wonder. "You feel like that everytime I
kiss you?"

"Oh yeah. I sometimes think I don't need food or water, just a steady
diet of your kisses." John admitted.

"Thank you, Janaskja for loving me." Luka said softly as he undid
John's seat belt and pulled him into his lap.

"Thank you for loving *me*." John murmured, he was wide awake now. He
loved being in Luka's arms. He'd never received enough hugs as a
child and his need to be held, caressed, comforted; was finally being
satisfied. He sighed contentedly then gasped as Luka's hand rubbed
his chest, stroking the erect buds through the silk shirt. Reaching
down, John unbuckled Luka then stood.

"Where are you going?" Luka looked around. They were alone.

"Follow me. We're about to become members of the mile-high club...
orgasms at twenty thousand feet." John smiled taking Luka's hand
leading him to a screened-off section at the rear of the aircraft. As
they rounded the partition, Luka grinned at the sight of a double
bed. "You don't think my father sleeps sitting up on trans-
continental flights do you? Sometimes, money has its uses."

"Come here, Janaskja."

"Only if you come with me."

"It's a deal." Luka began to remove John's clothing, kissing him
after removing each article. When it was his turn, John did the same.
They got into the bed and turned out the cabin lights. Luka took John
into his arms and simply held him. John wriggled closer and kissed
Luka's shoulder, then his chest, then he moved on top of his lover,
smiling as he massaged the warm skin covering Luka's shoulders.

"Please, beloved. I want to feel you inside me." Luka's breaths were
coming faster as John continued his massage.

"Your wish is my command." Naked, John got up and went to where their
luggage was stacked. Rummaging through his backpack he found the
lubricant and a box of condoms. He returned to the bed. "Lift your
hips, my love." Luka complied thinking that no one else on earth was
a beautiful as the man he'd just married.

John began to apply the lubricant using feather-light strokes of his
tapering fingers. Each time they grazed Luka's testicles, his partner
twitched. John, fully aware that Luka was watching his every move,
slowly stroked his own erect penis before putting on the condom. He
suggestively smoothed lubricant on himself then moved into position.

"Now, John."

"Shhhh. What's your hurry? We have the rest of our lives..." John
gently probed Luka's anus with two slender fingers, stretching the
muscle walls first in one direction, then another. Just when Luka
thought he'd would scream from frustrated desire, John slid home in
one prolonged thrust. He remained still for a few minutes to calm
himself. Being in Luka, hell, merely *thinking* about being in Luka
was more than enough stimulation. Silently he listed the bones in the
hand as he began to withdraw then thrust; making each stroke last as
long as he possible could.

Luka's mind was aflame. The feelings John produced were maddening.
His eyelids fluttered closed but not before John observed Luka's eyes
roll upwards. Smiling, John moved a little faster, eliciting a long
drawn out moan. As he continued reviewing basic anatomy, John heard
the moans change into shouts. On every third stroke, John moved
laterally, dragging the tip of his penis across Luka's prostate. Luka
began to buck and heave beneath him. John placed his hands on Luka's
waist, holding him still; and continued.

Finally, after what seemed like forever to Luka, John's pace
increased. The restraining hands were gone. Luka's body moved of its
own accord, meeting John's thrusts as he shouted. Luka came first,
and the entire bed shook. As he regained his senses, he felt the
sudden warmth of John's semen as it filled the condom. Blindly, he
reached for him, pulling him close. Chests heaving, they lay
exhausted.

* * * * *

All too soon, the pilot's voice on the intercom woke Luka. Yawning,
he nudged John whose snores were rivalling the engines for the top
decibel levels. John opened one eye. "Have we landed?"

"No. Not for another twenty minutes. Come on, Janaskja. We've got to
get dressed."

"I've got a better idea. Why don't we re-fuel in mid-air and just
keep flying?" John patted the bed with a leer.

"Don't you want to see San Francisco?"

"Nope. I'm looking at the only thing I want to see."

"Well, you can look at me all you like, but with your clothes on,
while we land."

"I married a tyrant." John threw off the bed clothes and headed to
the bathroom.

"Shameless hussy. You're a closet exhibitionist." Luka grinned as he
hunted for his socks. While he dressed, he realized that John's
blushes were more in reaction to what he imagined others were
thinking; not shame or embarrasment on his own part. Since they'd
been reunited, John had made no effort to down-play or act shy about
their relationship. Two hands over his eyes startled him out of his
reverie.

"Guess who?"

"The man I love more than my life?"

"Holed it in one." John kissed the back of Luka's neck before
sprawling across the bed to reach for his clothes.

A discreet knock heralded the entry of the steward. Luka was having
trouble with his tie and John was trying to help.

"I give up, Sascha. I'm no valet."

"If you will permit me, sir.", the steward offered.

"Be my guest." Luka replied.

John threw up his hands. "Jilted on my honeymoon. I can see
the 'Enquirer' now: 'These are the new ties that bind me, says groom
as he spurns husband.'"

The steward laughed as he finished arranging Luka's tie. "I'll get
the bags before your spouse calls his lawyer."

"Thank you." Luka grinned at John who was doing his best to look put
out. Laughing, they took their seats just as the pilot called for
belts to be fastened.

Looking back, Luka didn't know which aspect of their trip he enjoyed
most. In the Castro, while they shopped for presents for their
friends, Luka revelled in being able to walk down the street holding
John's hand. During the day, they played tourist. As evening fell,
they would return to their hotel, make love, then dress for dinner.
The sight of two handsome men in Armani suits never failed to draw
benevolent attention from everyone.

The night before they were scheduled to return to Chicago, they came
back to the hotel to find Charles and Cyril waiting in the lobby.
Reluctantly, Luka abandoned his hopes for a cinq a sept with John as
the four of them headed for the cocktail lounge.

"First of all, thanks you two for everything you did to help with our
wedding and reception. It was wonderful." John said smiling at the
younger couple.

"Actually, that's why we're here. Somehow, the manager of the San
Francisco Opera happened to be invited. He liked what he saw and
offered Charles a job. We're moving here." Cyril explained.

"That was my grandmother." John laughed.

"Bless St. Millicent." Charles raised his cocktail. "So how have you
guys been? You look great."

They chatted over a leisurely dinner then Charles and Cyril made
their farewells. John and Luka returned to their suite and headed to
its luxurious bathroom. John turned on the water in the tub and added
some apple scented gel while Luka lit candles they'd purchased on
their first day in the city.

Turning out the lights, Luka drew back the curtains covering the
large window. The lights of the city shone, flickering in
counterpoint to the candles. Both men undressed in silence. John
packed their dress suits and when he returned to the bathroom, Luka
had opened a small bottle of sparkling grape juice. Filling two
flutes, he stepped into the warm water and sat down. John followed,
positioning himself between Luka's legs. They sipped their drinks and
enjoyed the quiet at the end of a busy day.

"You know, it's funny. I've had a marvellous time, but I'm actually
looking forward to getting back to work." John remarked.

"Me too. I guess that's another blessing. We both enjoy what we do
for a living." Luka agreed softly. He put down his glass and took
John in his arms, kissing his cheek. "I love you very, very much."

John placed his glass on the floor and slid around in the large tub
until he was resting in Luka's lap. The feel of his skin rubbing
against his mate produced the usual reaction in both men. Putting his
arms around Luka's neck, John kissed him slowly, using his tongue to
savor every trace of the beverage on Luka's lips, tongue, and teeth.
Sighing, he waited for the dizziness to subside.

"Every time, huh?" Luka observed quietly.

"Every time is like that first time when I thought my heart would
jump out of chest. I'd just about given up on ever being able to tell
you how I felt, let alone having my feelings returned. So each time,
I remember the overwhelming joy and surprise and I ..." John stopped
speaking as Luka kissed him again. The sensation of free-falling was
even stronger. John put his head on Luka's shoulder.

"Thank you for loving me, Luka." John whispered. Luka stroked John's
cheek. They sat there until the water cooled then headed for the
bedroom wearing the hotel's terry robes. While John turned back the
bed, Luka extinguished the candles in the bathroom.

"The last thing we want to do is set off the fire alarm.", he said
grinning when he returned. He stood behind John and slipped the thick
robe from his slender shoulders, kissing the sweet-smelling skin as
he went. John turned to face his husband and slid his hands under the
soft material, massaging Luka's sides and back as he pushed the thick
terry material off and onto the floor. Trading kisses, they shuffled
to the bed, where Luka sat and removed John's robe. He picked up a
condom and slowly placed it on John's quivering penis. Then he took
John into his mouth.

John gave in happily to the sensations emanating from his husband's
attentions. Luka's teeth lightly grazed the ridge of John's
circumcision scar making John's legs quiver involuntarily. Placing
one hand on Luka's shoulder, John commenced moving his hips,
thrusting gently into a vortex of delight. Luka grasped John's
buttocks with both hands, kneading the hard muscle beneath skin that
felt like silk. John threw his head back, moaning as Luka's cheeks
hollowed with the power of his inhalations. Dear heavens, was the man
trying to pull the organ from his body? He couldn't help it: John's
moans increased in volume as he put his other hand on Luka. He needed
both to keep from falling through the floor. Suddenly, his orgasm
exploded into his conciousness causing him to shout aloud. Luka
ceased his ministrations but kept John's penis in his mouth as the
condom grew warmer.

Standing up, Luka held John as his body shook. Slowly, John's brain
began to function again. He put his arms around Luka's neck and
kissed him. He had no words to describe what had just happened and he
knew better than to try. Silently, he thanked God that Luka was his;
that Luka loved him; and that he was able to love Luka in return.

"Please Luka, if I don't lie down I'm going to fall down." John
mumbled after awhile. Luka gently lowered his partner onto the king-
sized mattress, deftly removing the condom. He planned to show John
just how much he loved making love to him. The evening was just
getting started. John felt totally limp. It was as if the heat of his
climax had melted every bone in his body. He smiled lazily as Luka
stretched out next to him then jumped; startled, when Luka's finger
tips began lightly tracing patterns on his chest. The patterns ranged
wider, and the tracing intensified into a strenuous massage.

Luka took a position straddling John's hips as he continued to caress
him. At the point where John felt the beginnings of drowsiness coming
over him again, he nearly shouted aloud as Luka's lips and teeth
latched on to his right nipple. Luka sucked hungrily trying to pull
as much of the erectile tissue into his mouth as he could. John began
to writhe in response to these new feelings. Luka turned his
attentions to the other nipple while massaging the abandoned one.
John arched his back. "Please Luka, please, I want to be one with
you."

"Quiet, Janaskja. I'm in charge here. I'm going to love you as you
deserve." Luka whispered in response then put his lips back to their
task. He bathed John's skin with his tongue, occasionally taking
tender bites which produced involuntary shivers. John was aching for
the feel of Luka's penis inside him. When he begged for this, Luka
silenced him with a kiss. The resulting disorientation gave Luka time
to continue his slow tour of the body that had haunted his dreams. An
inch at a time, he moved lower.

By now, John's skin glistened with perspiration and Luka's saliva.
Luka took John's testicles into his mouth, savoring their salty taste
as he sucked gently. He felt John's hips begin to move as he tried to
rub himself against source of this maddening pleasure. Luka sat up
and began to massage the long slender legs that had just recently
been twitching against his cheeks. Privately, Luka thought John
resembled the Byzantine-style icons in the churches of his home. The
large dark eyes, long tapering hands and feet... everything was
reminiscent of those solemn saints, including skin that was the color
of antique ivory.

"Please Luka, I'll die if you don't have me." John's voice seemed to
come from the depths of his body. "Please."

Luka smiled at John's face flushed with arousal and moved upward to
distract him with another kiss. John never should have told him about
the "elevator effect". Speechless once more, John sighed feeling as
if his all of his breath was leaving his body. The feel of Luka's
fingers applying lubricant to his anus brought all of his breath back
in one deep, sudden gasping inhalation. Then all sensation stopped.
John opened his eyes to see Luka opening a condom packet. Meeting his
husband's gaze, he silently telegraphed his gratitude in a tender
smile. Luka prepared himself slowly, his eyes never leaving John's
face. He took John's legs in his arms as if they were the handles of
a wheel barrow. After positioning John's hips against his own thighs,
he guided the head of his cock into the narrow opening.

His eyes shining, John breathed a long drawn out "Yessss" as Luka
began to thrust slowly, each time penetrating a little deeper into
the tightness and incredible heat. Luka was taking his revenge for
John's prolonged torture session on the plane. He had refined John's
technique by the simple expedient of withdrawing completely after
every fifth thrust and sliding his penis over John's sensitive anal
opening then reinserting himself to begin anew. The frustration
combined with the pleasure had John tossing his head, grinding it
into the pillow. A long inchoate moaning issued from his parted lips.
He knew he was losing his mind.

Just when John thought he'd have to threaten Luka with bodily harm to
get him to finish the job he was taking an eternity to bring to its
conclusion, Luka commenced to pound into him. This energetic coda
provided the fitting end to the erotic adagio that preceded it. John
felt Luka's hands on his penis moving in time with his powerful
loins. "Harder, Luka. Fuck my brains out!" When Luka heard John's
guttural demands, he grinned. He'd finally brought John to the point
where the usual romantic endearments were no longer possible. This
was passion at its most elemental level. The veils of civilized
existence had been stripped away. As his orgasm possessed him, John
lost the power of coherent speech. He was gibbering like an idiot as
his entire body trembled. Mere seconds later, Luka gave a wordless
shout of triumph as he too lost his higher brain functions.

John lay as if he were dead. His mind was floating, disconnected from
the rest of him. Finally he summoned the strength to open his eyes to
see Luka stretched out, his legs hanging off the end of the bed. On
his third try John managed to sit up and move to where Luka was
lying. Putting his head on the heaving chest, oblivion took him once
more.

* * * * *
The flight back to Chicago was quiet. Both men slept knowing they'd
return to work in three days. The limo was waiting when they landed.
Luka agreed with John, money did come in handy at times. The usual
hassles of commercial travel were noticeably absent when you had your
own plane and chauffeured transportation. As they rode through the
city, Luka smiled anticipating John's face when Roland's last wedding
gift was revealed.

When the car passed their exit on the expressway, John wanted to know
what was going on.

"I want you to look at a place that might be more suitable for us."
Luka explained. It will only take a few minutes. It's got a great
view and at night it's even better." John nodded sleepily.
Five minutes later, the car stopped in front of an older apartment
building. The grey stonework gleamed dully in the misty light from
the street lamps. The concierge buzzed them in and Luka led the way
to the elevator.

They rode to the tenth floor in silence. When they reached the door
of the apartment, Luka produced a key and let them in. John's eyes
widened in surprise. All of the furniture from their place was
arranged in the commodious living room. Luka grinned as John went
through the suite of large high-ceilinged rooms. The dining room was
unfurnished as was the second bed- and bathrooms. The master bedroom
was large with two floor-to-ceiling windows and featured Luka's green
silk comforter on a brand new king-size bed. To the right, a second
door led into a beautifully appointed bathroom that inlcuded both a
tub and glassed-in shower stall.

"Do you like it?" Luka asked.

"I love it! But can we afford it?"

"I should think so. Your family owns the building."

John frowned. "I don't want them trying to buy us into anything."

"They're not. I explained to your father that we would be willing to
act as on-call emergency physicians for our neighbors when we're
home. Most of them are elderly. In lieu of a salary, we will be
allowed to pay the same rent on this place we paid for our old one."

"I think my father is suffering from a bad case of guilty
conscience." John said slowly. "There was nothing wrong with the old
place." Luka wrapped his arms around himself and began chewing on his
thumbnail. John knew what this meant. He'd often seen Luka standing
like this at work while waiting for lab results he knew would contain
bad news.

"Sascha, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I assumed you'd feel as I do. I forgot you didn't spend
months in our apartment wondering whether I was alive or dead." Luka
said softly he didn't want to sound as if he was reproaching John.
Yet, he couldn't help but feel sad that for once, their unity of
thought had failed them. He tried to smile, but somehow, his eyes
filled instead.

John softly put his arms around his husband. "Oh, God. I'm sorry
Luka. I wasn't thinking clearly." John said in a low voice. He *had*
forgotten, or had allowed himself to forget. "It's just I'm used to
my family giving with one hand and taking with everything else. I
know they feel bad about what happened to us. I didn't want them to
think I was going to use it as grounds for emotional blackmail." John
was silent for a moment. "You really suffered while I was away." It
was not a question.

"I survived Janaskja, but it was hard." Luka admitted. "Everything in
that apartment reminded me of you and of us together. When you first
disappeared I couldn't stand being in it. I stayed at County. The
second night after you came back was the first time I'd slept in our
bed since you left. You really didn't mind living there after all
that happened?"

"Not at all." John said honestly. "I'm ashamed to say I was just so
glad to be with you... to be home. I didn't stop to think. But I do
understand how you feel. I was taken away; forced into new
surroundings without you. So, I remembered our time together there as
if it was Eden before the serpent got busy. It was the place where
you first told me you loved me; where we first made love. If you had
been the one... If I had been left there to wait not knowing... I'm
sure I'd feel exactly as you do. I am truly sorry, husband." John
reached up and placed his hand on Luka's cheek. "Poor Sascha. I
should have been with you, to help you through that awful time."

Luka smiled crookedly. "If you had been there, we wouldn't be here
discussing how bad I felt."

"Point. Anyway, I *do* love this apartment. I've spent so much time
worrying about how my family would react to our loving each other, I
kinda lost sight of the fact that *you* are my family now. 'Forsaking
all others...' I believe was the phrase. My family is no longer
treating me like a leper. But here I am still waiting for the other
shoe to drop." John smiled slyly. "Why don't we help the chauffeur
bring up our luggage then see how firm that mattress is?"

"You're sure?"

"I'm certain."

"John, I don't want you doing this just to accommodate me. I want us
*both* to be happy here."

"Beloved, provided you were with me, a refrigerator carton on top of
a heating grate would be a palace. Besides, we can turn the extra
bedroom into a nursery." They headed to the elevator.

"What?"

"Sascha, with all that's happened to us recently, I may yet wind up
pregnant. We might make an appearance on Jerry Springer after all."

"You're nuts. You know that don't you?" Luka laughed as the elevator
descended.

"Yep. But I'm seeing a therapist."

That night, John was the one who lay awake. They'd literally broken
in their new bed. Thanks to Luka's energetic love-making, the
footboard fell off and onto the floor. Now, Luka was stretched out
beside him, his breath whistling softly through his parted lips. John
realized that he'd been forced into breaking a promise: to be Luka's
anchor when he required one. All during those hellish months, John
had been kept from the man he loved when he was truly needed. Luka's
reminder of that time and how he'd been alone had badly shaken his
husband. As he sat looking at the person with whom he would spend the
rest of his life, John vowed that he would never allow anything to
part them again.

* * * * *
John and Luka went back to work two days later. Their colleagues
teased them at first about the wedding and the honeymoon. Then things
settled down quickly into a comfortable routine. Thanks to Kerry re-
arranging their schedules, the couple had at least two weekends off
together every five weeks or so. They spent their spare time shopping
for items to completely furnish their apartment.

One morning, six months after the wedding, he came to work alone.
Luka had the late shift. John hurried to his locker grinning as he
remembered Luka taking him on their new dining room table, bringing a
whole new meaning to the term: "power breakfast". He pulled open the
door and a letter fluttered out.

"Janaskja, to my deep regret; when you were taken away, I had a
letter from you to comfort and sustain me but had failed to provide
you with one of your own. I'd been meaning to write you in return but
I stupidly assumed in a country where there are no bombs falling, you
would always be there. And, as you said with your gift for
understatement, 'then your grandfather kind of got in the way.'

"Back home, we aquired the habit of saying good-bye each time as if
it would be the last. Here, despite our work's testimony to the
fragility of life and the status quo, I didn't think to continue
making my farewells count. So, I am now taking the time to tell you
again that I love you. I'll never forget that morning when you ran
out of the house laughing. Those were your last words to me. You will
have no idea how I suffered remembering that I did not reply in kind;
thinking you may have gone to an unmarked grave without my saying for
one last time how much you mean to me. Since then, you may have
noticed I'm always telling you. I never want to risk again being
separated without your being sure of my feelings for you.

"John Truman Carter, I love you with all of my being... in the words
of the English poet: 'to the height and depth and breadth my soul can
reach.' I know I've told you that your gentleness and sensitivity are
very special to me; but I love your strength even more. You have
endured sorrow and pain and yet can still smile at me with genuine
joy in being alive. Dearest husband, I thank God for not letting you
leave County. I thank you for waiting for me. I thank you for giving
your heart into my keeping. I promise I will cherish and protect it
and to the end of my days. I shall never let it go. Sascha."

Kerry came into the locker room and was surprised to see John
laughing and crying all at once. "Are you OK?" She'd been prepared
for a reaction to his abduction at some point.

Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. John smiled. "I'm fine. I
was just reading a letter from my husband."

"Newly-weds." Kerry observed drily.

"Yep. We've got it pretty bad. Terminal, actually. Although, I don't
think even death will put a stop to what we feel for each other."
John smiled and put the letter in his shirt pocket. "Why don't we see
a few patients?" Holding the door for his boss, John followed her out
to the board.

That weekend, John and Luka joined Roland and Millicent for dinner.
Luka still secretly resented that it took John's disappearance to
bring his family to the point where they could appreciate just how
special his husband was. Nevertheless, he thanked God that John's
family finally seemed to recognize his worth.

"So have you two settled in?"

"Yeah, Gamma. Our neighbors are pretty neat." John replied. The best
thing about having elderly neighbors, was their hearing losses. He
and Luka made a lot of noise on occasion even without shaking the bed
to bits.

"That's good, dear." Millicent had recently returned from Arizona
where she had serenely tortured her husband with a detailed
enthusiastic account of John's wedding. Watching Luka watching her
grandson made her smile remembering her own youth. She was confident
that her grandson would never be disappointed as she had been. Robert
Carter was a deluded fool if he thought he could have made John
renounce this kind of happiness and fulfillment.

"You're looking pensive, Millicent." Luka teased. "What surprise are
you hatching now?"

Millicent Carter gave her son-in-law a piercing stare. "Has Roland
been talking to you?"

"No ma'am."

"Talking about what?" John wanted to know.

"Your future, dear."

Oh-oh, here it comes. John braced himself. Luka immediately noted the
change in his husband's posture and took his hand beneath the table.

"John. Your father and I have decided to restore your trust fund."

"You don't have to do that, Gamma. Things are fine as they are." John
said quietly but with conviction. He'd told Luka that at some point
this offer would be made and both men had agreed immediately their
reply would be "Thank you, but no, thank you."

"Please listen, John. I too, am ashamed of my absent husband's
shennanigans. But that is not why your father and I decided to do
this. We are not trying to buy your love. Fortunately, you *gave* it
to us even before we could show you how much we appreciated it and
you. You've made all of us quite proud." She paused to sip some
wine. "However, as recent events have shown, things happen. Your
father and I would feel a lot better if we knew there was a source of
income for you and Luka besides your salaries. That way, you'll never
have to worry."

"Thank you, Gamma." John looked at Luka, who nodded. "We can't accept
your offer. However, I *have* been thinking what I would do with that
kind of money if I ever hit the lottery." John grinned. Luka turned
to look at him. Now, what was John up to?

"What would you do?" Roland was also extremely curious.

"Well, inspite of everything, that place they kept me in was quite
nice. I was thinking that if you weren't *forced* to stay there, it
would make a great vacation resort. Particularly for people who need
medical care after surgery or who are being treated for serious
illnesses. There's this woman at County; on the janitorial staff. Her
son has sickle-cell anemia. She could never afford to go someplace
like that for a real vacation, her son's meds cost too much. Just
think..." John's eyes were shining. "We could work it like Habitat
for Humanity. The guests at our resort could pay for their vacations
by volunteering to work there for two weeks one year: a kind of 'half
vacation', then take two weeks the following year for the real thing.
With good planning, the guests would fill most of the staff
positions."

"Secretaries, janitors, orderlies, nurses, file clerks; these folks
don't make a lot of money. I'm sure they'd jump at the chance to get
away from the city and the best part is it wouldn't be charity.
They'd work for their time there as guests. With a few paying
customers like me and Luka to make sure there was adequate medical
care, who knows, the place just might make a small profit."

"You'd be willing to go back to that place?" Luka was surprised.

"Sure. Why not? I told you, it wasn't so bad apart from the fact I
was forced to stay there without you. But you'd be there, the guards
and all the other security stuff wouldn't." John explained. "If you
guys like the idea, name the place after my brother. His name should
be on something that people can use. There are plenty of families out
there with sick relatives, who don't have our resources. This would
be for them." John finished his rapid-fire explanation and exhaled.

There was total silence. Finally Roland spoke. "Son. I think it's a
marvellous idea. The Robert Alexander Carter Memorial Rest Home. I
like the sound of that."

"So do I." Millicent beamed her approval at John. I'll get the
Foundation started on it right away."

Luka looked at his husband's smiling face in quiet wonder. The
slender, almost skinny body was home to a heart that had no limits to
its capacity for love and compassion. He made a mental note, to take
very good care of this precious charge... very good care indeed.

... and they lived happily ever after.

The End


Authori's Notes:

Thank you everyone for your kind comments, suggestions, and
enthusiasm. I don't know about other fan fiction authors; but for me,
once in a great while a set of characters and their environs reach
out and grab hold of my imagination and refuse to let go. This story
was a study in wish-fulfillment (and then some) and the loveliest
part is, it doesn't have to end. If the writers of our show of shows,
don't supply us with what we want, we can make it happen for
ourselves.

Everytime, I see Noah Wyle and the beard, I think, Carter'll be going
home to Walter Skinner (sigh). When the magnificent Paul McCrane
bounds into a scene, I know Dave Malucci is the reason for the bounce
in Romano's steps (big grin). All during the final episodes of last
season, I amused myself imagining Abby sneaking over to Kerry's house
for something "hot and sweet" while Carter and Kovac did the
horizontal hokey-pokey in the Doug and Carol Commemorative Supply
Room.

So as *my* story draws to it's happy close, get out your keyboards,
pens, or pencils and start writing. There's lots of stories to tell
and I can't wait to see where you'll take the staff of County for
their next adventure. I've had the time of my life. KP