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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.
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