*gasp* fic! wow!
Mar. 20th, 2006 07:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chanter1944For real! I'm actually posting fic again. I needed a distraction from the essays I've got to work on, and having watched 6.2 Last Rites earlier today I had inspiration. I can't say this's my best work since I haven't been scribbling in a while, but it's something. I've only seen one other fic with this pairing in it, and that was heavy on the tragedy and angst and was quite awful to boot. I wonder if anybody else ships these two? Hmm. I swear, they're the OTP of ER... well, and Kerry-Sandy of course. :)
Anyway, on with the fic!
Title: Good For The Soul
Author: Chanter
Fandom: ER
Rating: PG13 just to be safe
Pairings: past tense Doug/Carol and Luka/Danjiela (his wife), Carol/Luka
Summary: So when did I first think about him that way? Carol reflects and admits.
Spoilers for 6.2 Last Rites, 6.8 Great Expectations, and 6.17 Viable Options.
788 words
When did I think it for the first time?
It’s been so long I’m not even sure and in the world I’ve been living in, in the space I’ve been in in my head lately six months can seem like six years and I wouldn’t have traded any of them, not for anything. Not even for Doug. When was the first time I thought about him that way?
Not Doug, really. I loved him... love him like an addict, I want him and it’s primal, I’d say I need him but it’s complicated. It’s confusing. Everything with him was confusing, just one big whirlwind of kisses and sex and marriage proposals and more sex and runaway street kids and houses with nothing holding them up and I’m sure you can already see where this is going. Everything with him was just so tangled up in this maze of urgency and lust and it was amazing but it made me cry as often as I laughed. Our contact might have been intimate but there was nothing beneath the surface. Was it love, was it lust or was it just dependency? I could never figure that out.
So when did I first think about him that way? Not Doug, we’ve already established that. Not him, Luka.
I remember thinking something when I first saw him, first worked with him, having it running through my head going parallel with the pleasantries coming out of my mouth that oh God he’s a beautiful man and that voice makes my knees wobble and they’d better not because falling on your ass when you’re pregnant isn’t exactly a good thing. And sure there were disagreements, there’ll always be disagreements: Treat a fever or let it run it’s course, hold one valid standard of care up to another and in the end compromise, give a blessing or not. There’ll always be disagreements, minor ones, little ones. But from the start it wasn’t anything like it was with Doug. Things were cleaner somehow, with Luka.
When did I first think about him that way? When he was with Vanessa, when she believed he was a priest and I was in the background listening to a little bit of Latin, a little bit of Croatian I remember thinking, then. Quiet thoughts, sacreligious thoughts almost, thinking about murmurs in other languages whispering in the dark, and those all tangled up with the fragments of Russian my mother had taught me--nothing explicit, nothing X-rated, just the fact that I could listen to a voice like that. A lot. And when I told him he faked it well I meant it, and I implied two or three more compliments when I said it, not to mention an implicit trust that I like to believe he caught.
So when did I first think... On the train, or on the sidewalk when he was my support and I was having children, when I proved that expression about taking things out on the people you care about the most. When I tried to apologize but it came out a whimper just before the world dropped out from under me and when he caught me, just before I blacked out I remember thinking, then. That I wished he was the father.
When did I first think... When I woke up in the middle of my second home, when I had a few heartbeats to catch my breath, for a split second I remember thinking, then. Oh good, he’s the father. And then not, oh God here we go again I wish he was.
When did I first... When Kate wasn’t Kate yet and was blue in Mark’s arms and when I was bleeding everywhere and everything was going fuzzy I remember thinking, then. And I remember talking, then. And when I was whispering on the outside I was screaming on the inside and my prayers came out in Latin because it always worked for him and maybe it would help. And when I woke up it had.
When did I first... Under my window, freezing in the snow, standing and laughing and drinking with a man who claimed he came to America for the barbecue, I remember thinking, then. And confessing, then. Thinking ok, this is the man I could spend my life with, culture, disagreements and all our separate ghosts and everything. I could let him be a father to my children, my other children and not just the two upstairs asleep. I could keep him grounded, he could give me a reason. It could work. I would love it, if it worked.
So when did I first think about him that way?
The truth is, I don’t think I ever didn’t.
Anyway, on with the fic!
Title: Good For The Soul
Author: Chanter
Fandom: ER
Rating: PG13 just to be safe
Pairings: past tense Doug/Carol and Luka/Danjiela (his wife), Carol/Luka
Summary: So when did I first think about him that way? Carol reflects and admits.
Spoilers for 6.2 Last Rites, 6.8 Great Expectations, and 6.17 Viable Options.
788 words
When did I think it for the first time?
It’s been so long I’m not even sure and in the world I’ve been living in, in the space I’ve been in in my head lately six months can seem like six years and I wouldn’t have traded any of them, not for anything. Not even for Doug. When was the first time I thought about him that way?
Not Doug, really. I loved him... love him like an addict, I want him and it’s primal, I’d say I need him but it’s complicated. It’s confusing. Everything with him was confusing, just one big whirlwind of kisses and sex and marriage proposals and more sex and runaway street kids and houses with nothing holding them up and I’m sure you can already see where this is going. Everything with him was just so tangled up in this maze of urgency and lust and it was amazing but it made me cry as often as I laughed. Our contact might have been intimate but there was nothing beneath the surface. Was it love, was it lust or was it just dependency? I could never figure that out.
So when did I first think about him that way? Not Doug, we’ve already established that. Not him, Luka.
I remember thinking something when I first saw him, first worked with him, having it running through my head going parallel with the pleasantries coming out of my mouth that oh God he’s a beautiful man and that voice makes my knees wobble and they’d better not because falling on your ass when you’re pregnant isn’t exactly a good thing. And sure there were disagreements, there’ll always be disagreements: Treat a fever or let it run it’s course, hold one valid standard of care up to another and in the end compromise, give a blessing or not. There’ll always be disagreements, minor ones, little ones. But from the start it wasn’t anything like it was with Doug. Things were cleaner somehow, with Luka.
When did I first think about him that way? When he was with Vanessa, when she believed he was a priest and I was in the background listening to a little bit of Latin, a little bit of Croatian I remember thinking, then. Quiet thoughts, sacreligious thoughts almost, thinking about murmurs in other languages whispering in the dark, and those all tangled up with the fragments of Russian my mother had taught me--nothing explicit, nothing X-rated, just the fact that I could listen to a voice like that. A lot. And when I told him he faked it well I meant it, and I implied two or three more compliments when I said it, not to mention an implicit trust that I like to believe he caught.
So when did I first think... On the train, or on the sidewalk when he was my support and I was having children, when I proved that expression about taking things out on the people you care about the most. When I tried to apologize but it came out a whimper just before the world dropped out from under me and when he caught me, just before I blacked out I remember thinking, then. That I wished he was the father.
When did I first think... When I woke up in the middle of my second home, when I had a few heartbeats to catch my breath, for a split second I remember thinking, then. Oh good, he’s the father. And then not, oh God here we go again I wish he was.
When did I first... When Kate wasn’t Kate yet and was blue in Mark’s arms and when I was bleeding everywhere and everything was going fuzzy I remember thinking, then. And I remember talking, then. And when I was whispering on the outside I was screaming on the inside and my prayers came out in Latin because it always worked for him and maybe it would help. And when I woke up it had.
When did I first... Under my window, freezing in the snow, standing and laughing and drinking with a man who claimed he came to America for the barbecue, I remember thinking, then. And confessing, then. Thinking ok, this is the man I could spend my life with, culture, disagreements and all our separate ghosts and everything. I could let him be a father to my children, my other children and not just the two upstairs asleep. I could keep him grounded, he could give me a reason. It could work. I would love it, if it worked.
So when did I first think about him that way?
The truth is, I don’t think I ever didn’t.
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no subject
Date: 2006-03-23 04:00 am (UTC)You coming to Game Night this Thursday? It'll be fun... ok thats all I've got. Talk to you later! Hope those essays are going ok!
no subject
Date: 2006-03-23 05:04 pm (UTC)As for game night, I've got to work on the essay that's due in tomorrow, so I'm not certain I can.