Forbidden Fruit
by Rachel
written for Destina

Carter looked up from his pint of beer, nodding slightly as Luka slid into the booth. He motioned to the waitress, gesturing at his own pint and holding up two fingers. Luka didn't say anything as he unwrapped his scarf from his neck and dropped his coat on the seat next to him.

"Hasn't changed all that much," Carter said softly, turning the glass in his hands. "Still cold and snowy. Still busy."

"Did you expect life to stop while you were in Africa?"

"I don't know what I expected."

The waitress dropped off the two pints and disappeared again, leaving Carter and Luka alone. Luka picked up the glass and took a drink, his eyes on Carter's slumped form.

"How many of these have you had?"

"Not many," Carter pushed away the empty glass and reached for the new one. "I haven't had a cold beer in months. It feels like the first time drinking again. Exotic and dangerous. Forbidden fruit."

Luka looked at him with a bemused expression, "I was much more enamored with being alive when I came back than having a cold beer."

"We're different people, Luka."

Luka pursed his lips and picked up his glass, tilting it slightly in Carter's direction before taking a sip, "So why did you call me?"

"Just to talk," Carter turned the pint glass in his hands. "Kim's got an appointment with OB tomorrow. I'm bringing her to the hospital."

"You're having a baby?"

Carter nodded with a smile, "She just started her second trimester."

"Then I should be buying you a beer," Luka said mildly. "Now why did you really call me?"

"I told you. To talk."

Luka shook his head and let his gaze travel the room, his glass in his hand. He drank every so often, hearing Carter do the same across from him. Johnny Cash came on the jukebox and Luka turned back to Carter.

"You did not call me here to talk," Luka set his empty pint glass down and started to put his coat on. "You do not want to tell me about Kim or the baby or why Chicago is the same as you remember or to talk about beer. You can do that with anyone."

"What?" Carter reached for his wallet and tossed some bills on the table. He grabbed his coat and followed after Luka who was already walking away. Carter grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Where are you going?"

"Admit why you called me."

"I … I missed you."

Luka snorted and shook Carter's hand off, "Do you remember Africa, John?"

"Yes," Carter looked at him like he was crazy. "I just left Africa. Of course I remember it."

Luka put his hands on Carter's shoulders, "No, not that Africa. Our Africa. Sweat and secrets and saving lives and no one to tell us it was wrong! Do you remember what we had?"

"Luka," Carter covered Luka's hands, pulling them away. "I remember."

"Then tell me why you called me."

"Because I miss our Africa!"

A slow smile spread across Luka's face and he finished buttoning up his coat. Leather gloves were pulled out of his pockets and he slid them on his hands.

"Put your coat on. It's snowing again."

Carter put his coat on, moving automatically at Luka's words. His own gloves were shoved in his pockets and he pulled them on, flexing his fingers in the fleece-lined leather. He followed Luka from the bar, the two of them shoulder to shoulder.

It was snowing again and Luka laughed a little as he bumped his shoulder, "I like the beard."

Carter turned to him and smiled, watching the snow catch on Luka's dark hair, "Thanks. So do I."

Luka stood in front of his apartment building, his hand on the door, "Africa changes you, John. No matter how hard you try, you can't be what you were before."

Carter looked up at him, "I know."

Luka nodded and gestured towards the door, "Get inside. I'm tired of talking."

Carter laughed and hopped up the steps to salute Luka, "Yes, sir."

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