A/N: This is just something I've come up with. It's probably utter crap. Sorry!

Sarah x

It was five minutes past nine when Serena stumbled onto AAU, tripping over her bag as she held it open with one handle, desperately searching for her phone with the sinking feeling that she had left it by her bed. She didn't even know why Guy kept putting her on AAU; she was better off on Keller, where she could be a surgeon rather than a line manager of this utter mess on the ground floor.

She had slept in this morning, having suffered her most restless and traumatic night of sleep in a very long time. The last time she could remember visions so vivid, she had been pregnant with Eleanor. This time, though, pregnant was the one thing she most definitely was not. She sighed when she walked straight into a set of blue scrubs and the man in them, Ric Griffin. Just what she needed on a Friday morning, late and very much sleep deprived.

"Just don't," she warned him before he could even open his mouth to speak to her.

He raised his hands, a look of amused surprise gracing his mellow features. "I was only going to say good morning," he defended himself. He took her bag from her and studied her face, and it took all her self-discipline not to squirm under his scrutiny. "Are you alright?" he asked her, and she found herself torn between irritation and gratitude for his concern.

"Yes," she replied, though she wasn't entirely sure it was true; she hadn't been so utterly tired in years, simply because she'd had a night filled with dreams she would have preferred to forget completely. "I just overslept."

"That's not like you," he commented. "Everything OK?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" she deflected. She didn't really want to admit she had a rough night; as much as she knew she was only human, she liked Ric to see her as something more than that, something he could find some respect for. "Now," she smiles. "What insanity have you prepared for me today?"

"First off we have a car mechanic with a broken leg. Fractured in six places," Ric informed her.

"Six?!" she exclaimed.

"And a broken wrist and several nasty gashes on his leg, and a suspected ruptured spleen."

"How on Earth did he manage that?!"

"Apparently the DIY approach doesn't always work," he smirked. "Cold coil spring broke the vice grips and, well, pinged at him." They entered the office and Serena fell into a chair as Ric placed her bag on her desk.

"And the spring pinging at him did all that?"

"There's five tonnes of pressure in those things if they're on the strut," he told her. His knowledge took her by surprise, but then he was the fountain of all knowledge, wasn't he? "It shouldn't really have been held with vice grips in the first place."

"So he's an idiot," Serena surmised with a smirk. "I know nothing about that sort of thing, but even I know five tonnes of pressure is not going to be subdued by a couple of pairs of vice grips. I mean, really. What was he thinking?!" she ranted, pulling out her files from her bag. "Don't they have proper machines for that sort of thing?"

"Spring compressors. Hydraulic, usually."

"And why wasn't he using that?" she demanded, firing up her computer. "I've never understood the human instinct to ignore what is simple, safe and secure in favour of a quicker, dangerous and volatile way of doing things. It makes me wonder if the population of this planet are actually in possession of functional brain cells." She could hear his low chuckle and it made her look up; she glared at him him but he did not submit into silence. "And what is so funny?"

He was wearing a bright smile as he confessed, "It's good to see your exhaustion hasn't altered your opinion of the human race." She couldn't help but allow him a little smile at that. She knew she could never really hide from him anymore; he seemed to have learned her guises and how to see through them, much to her discomfort. "And besides, aren't you in favour of efficiency?"

"Efficiency, yes," she agreed, staring straight him. "Stupidity...not so much." She could see that smile breaking across his face again and, completely not in the mood for his teasing, she found herself resisting the overwhelming urge to go over and smack him. "And trying to hold five tonnes of tension with vice grips is stupid."

She logged into her computer and waited, finding she was gazing at Ric with some degree of intensity. She could almost see the bond between them, strained but solid as a stone, and the amusement in his eyes at her words. She knew what amused him as well – here she was, ranting about stupidity, and she had been stupid enough to fall for Edward a second time. He stepped forward and sat on the edge of the desk; his concern, obvious in his softened expression, set her a little on edge.

"Are you sure you're alright, Serena?" The question was one she could not honestly answer, and she hated to lie to him. There were many things she would have lied to him over, but this, on a personal level, when he was trying to be a good friend and look out for her, was not one of those things. She'd done it once already this morning. She didn't have it in her to do it again. "You look exhausted."

"Thanks," she sarcastically sneered at him as she opened her emails, dreading to think what rubbish was clogging up her inbox this morning. "When is Mr. Springy booked into theatre?"

"Mr. Marshall," he pointedly replied, "is due in theatre at ten if scans show he needs it, which he probably will. You and I will be doing the procedure." It made Serena inwardly groan; normally she loved to be in theatre but today was an exception. Today all motivation had abandoned her; the effort it had taken her to get out of bed rather than call in sick had been ridiculous, especially for the woman who never slept in, always into work early and always happy that she had something worth getting up for every day.

She looked at her emails and found one sent at seven this morning, by Guy Self, calling a consultants' meeting at one o'clock today. Just what she needed. Locked in a room with the likes of Ric, Guy, Elliot and Jac, struggling in her tiredness to hold her tongue. "Oh, fantastic," she grumbled. "You couldn't have told me about this?!" He walked around to stand behind her, and she was sharply aware that his hands had come to rest on her shoulders as he leaned over her to read.

"I haven't checked my emails today," he admitted, his voice closer to her ear than she had been anticipating.

"So this is how it's going to be, is it?" she ranted. "Meetings at a few hours' notice?"

"Sounds like it," Ric concurred gently. "You're not going to change him so I wouldn't bother trying. You'll only get irritated." She sighed and leaned forward, her head in her hands; she was regretting leaving the safety of her bed, even if she had, just for a moment, hated how alone she felt in the middle of her bed, just for a moment. In that moment she had just wanted some company – having finally adapted to an empty home, her husband gone and her child at university, she was finding she wasn't a fan of it. Truthfully, she missed Eleanor rattling about. She missed the mess of another human being in the house rather than just her own meticulous tidying.

But she had got out of bed, as much as she was now regretting it.

She leaned back and turned her head, not realising Ric hadn't backed off, and her face collided with his, her nose hitting his jaw hard. "Ow!" she moaned, her hand covering her now painful nose. She took her hand away to find there was no blood, but it didn't make it any less painful. "Thanks for that!" she grumbled.

He rolled his eyes at her but didn't back away. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I will be. You've got a hard jawbone," she informed him. "Did you know this?"

"I do now," he smirked. She slapped his arm lightly, looking into his face for only a moment too long. He reached out and felt her nose lightly, making her wince. "It's fine. The pain will go in a few minutes."

"What you need is a distraction," he advised. Seeing him so close, and feeling so low as she did today, she could easily have taken him as a distraction, but she knew she would regret it tomorrow when she wasn't tired and worked up anymore. "Let's go and introduce you to Mr. Springy."

She sighed and stood up, letting him lead her onto the ward with a smile. The approached the bed and found a man lying there, clearly dosed up on morphine. "This is Ms. Campbell," Ric introduced her. "She will be your doctor today as well as me. This is Liam Marshall, thirty-three."

"And clearly doesn't follow health and safety very well," Serena couldn't help but add, her eyebrow raised and her arms folded across her chest.

Liam sighed, though he did not argue. Instead, he said, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I won't be making that mistake again." Serena held back a laugh, though she was glad this incident seemed to have knocked some sense into him.

"So what actually happened?" she asked him.

"Well, I had the struts out from last night and I got the right springs this morning – they sent the wrong ones yesterday – and I held it with vice grips as I usually do and gunned off the top bolt. Vice grips snapped and the spring shot right at me."

"Don't you have a compressor for that sort of thing?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to use it from now on?"

"Yeah."

"Good," she smiled at him. He smiled back at her and she added, "Is there anyone we can call for you?"

"My wife's on her way, but thanks." He was remarkably polite in his answer, which was some light relief for Serena; she sometimes found it worrying that she had become used to the barrage of unpleasantness she received from quite a few patients. She smiled and walked away, leaning against the nurses' station.

Ric sauntered towards her, and when he reached her he said, "How's the nose?"

"Better. Still a bit sore, but better," she allowed. She didn't like the look on his face; it told her he was still concerned when he didn't have to be. "Stop worrying, Ric. I'm fine."

"I'll stop worrying if you can give me a petty reason for your mood," he shot back at her. She looked at the floor for a moment, struggling to hold back the truth. Independent, she had always been, but how would it have been to just, this one time, let it out? To just tell him she had a rotten night and that was why her temper and nerves were a little frayed today. To tell him of the paralysing nightmare and the subsequent sleepless night. To tell him she had woken alone and wished she had someone who would have woken her before it got as far as it did.

But that was admitting weakness – something she never could do. He, however, could see through her when she said it was nothing. "Just a bad night. It happens to the best of us," she smiled. He seemed less than convinced by her vague explanations. She moved in and kissed his cheek. "But thank you for your concern. That was really-"

"Don't you dare say it was sweet of me," Ric cut across her, reminding her why she liked him so much. He didn't let her say the clichés and he didn't expect anything of her except for her to be who she was. She felt him touch her waist lightly as he passed her, something that she never thought anything of before. But this time she let her hand fall onto the place he touched, just a little above her hip, and wondered what it would have been to have him wake her from her nightmares last night.

Hope this is OK!
Please feel free to leave me a review and tell me what you think!
Sarah x