A/N: Hi everyone! I was a bit stuck on what to do for this fic so asked BollyOlive on Twitter for some word prompts. She suggested, "fandom", "glasses" and "shoes". She also wanted to see some flac cuteness on Jac's birthday. So, for the purposes of this fic only, Jac's birthday is January instead of April so that I can use their storylines and relationship development as they currently stand in the show.

I also wanted to make this multichapter for dramatic effect haha :'D hope you enjoy!

~•~•~•~

"You know what day it is, right?" Sacha asks, seemingly appearing from nowhere and startling Fletch as they walk down the corridor towards Darwin. Fletch frowns back at the man in one of his signature patterned shirts, and continues juggling the folders in his arms. "Jac's birthday."

This gives Fletch pause. A pause that Sacha clearly wasn't expecting as he collides into his back with a grunt.

"I hardly think she'd appreciate a party," Fletch muses.

"Oh, no. She wouldn't. Can't think of anything she'd hate more."

Fletch frowns at him again. "So why you telling me?"

"I don't know. Just thought I'd mention it."

Jac exits her office across the ward and catches Fletch's eye as Sacha walks back down the corridor. She goes to one of the beds and begins talking with a patient, so Fletch decides to wait for her in her office.

He sorts the folders into piles on the cream sofa and hesitantly approaches her desk in search of a pen. He finds a biro and a wad of post-it notes which he snatches up to take back to his makeshift station on her couch.

He's hunched over paperwork for nearly an hour before deciding that she's not coming back anytime soon. Must be in surgery. With folders propped under one arm and her stationary in his pocket, he makes his way to his own office where he stretches out his back with a relieving crack and pop.

~•~•~•~

Jac's on her way back from surgery as she studies the ward; everything running as it should be and nobody acting any differently. Good. They're not even aware it's her birthday. This does cause her lips to quirk upwards a little. She lets her body fall into the padding of her office chair then closes her eyes as she shakes out her hair and runs a hand over her face. She sighs and looks over her desk in the hopes of picking up from where she'd left off prior to surgery. The little dent between her brows deepens as she squints at the objects across the tabletop. And then her jaw tenses as she realises what's wrong.

There's a space where her sticky notes should be and a pen less in the desk tidy.

She sits and stares at the offending gap, tiredness washing over her. Only one man would have the nerve to steal from her. As she pushes herself from her chair, the culprit himself appears in her doorway. She takes one look at him and growls.

"First my stationary and now my glasses! What is it you don't understand about personal property?"

He smirks and reaches a hand behind his ear, making her glasses bounce on his nose.

"What do you think?" He asks, pulling a few poses and changing his expression. "You left them with a patient."

She audibly draws in breath, preparing to deliver an onslaught of verbal abuse, when he changes his modelling stance; narrows his eyes, tilts his head and gazes solemnly at her. Her mouth snaps shut and they watch each other. It takes a few seconds for him to remember to drop the expression and then he raises his eyebrows as he removes the glasses and hands them back. She snatches them from his fingers and holds out a hand, into which he hesitantly places the stationary.

"Honestly, you should see someone about your obsessive need to take things that aren't yours."

"What can I say? I'm a proud member of the Jac Naylor fandom. I'll be after your shoes next!"

She frowns at his humour.

"What's wrong?" He questions as she walks back behind her desk without even a hint of amusement.

"Nothing."

He waits for her to face him before quirking his eyebrows incredulously at her. "I don't believe you."

"I'm tired. Don't you have work to be doing?"

"Nothing that can't wait."

"I am fine, Fletcher."

"If that's the case, you won't mind going out with me tonight." This surprises them both; their eyes go wide at his sudden display of courage. "For your birthday, that is."

She processes his words and rolls her eyes. "No."

"Come on!"

"No. How the hell do you know, anyway?" She pauses, waiting for a response, but doesn't need one. "Sacha. I'll need to train him to keep his mouth shut in future."

"He knew you wouldn't want a fuss. I've not told anyone." She can practically hear the agonising grind of his brain slowly processing an idea. "But… well, it's the rules. You have to do something for your birthday. If you don't go out with me, then I have no choice but to tell the others so that we can all make a fuss over the birthday girl in Alby's."

She narrows her eyes at him, threatening him to go no further. He mirrors her in challenge.

"You wouldn't."

"That's settled then. Where shall we go?"

"Fletch."

"I don't pin us down for the clubbing type, but if that's your thing then I suppose I can make an exception."

"Fletcher," she warns.

"There are bars, or restaurants or-"

"Adrian, I am not going out with you."

He stops in his pondering to study her. There's a reason she's not keen on the idea, and for once he believes it's not the prospect of his company.

"What would you prefer to do, Jac?"

"Go home and act like normal," she states, not meeting his gaze.

"Okay then. That's what we'll do."

Now, she looks him dead in the eye. Who does he think he is?! Inviting himself over… "What? No! How is that in any way normal?"

"We are doing something for your birthday, end of story."

"You can't say that!"

"That, or I want an explanation." He doesn't need to elaborate what this explanation is about, she already knows; he wants answers and those answers involve nightmares and bug-infested cakes and memories she'd rather ignore.

"This isn't fair."

"Look… I won't pressure you into anything, I'm not like that. But I just want to celebrate my friend's birthday after a rough year. Even if we use it as an excuse to let our hair down. You have to admit that we're friends, right?"

Her expression seems confused, whilst somehow quite tender. "I… suppose."

"Then don't see this as me inviting you for a birthday party, but me inviting you to have some fun for a change."

She cocks an eyebrow at the potential double entendre, but he stands his ground by crossing his arms.

"Fine, but that answer is contingent on what you suggest we do."

It is with great delight that he finds himself the reason for Jac Naylor smiling as she leaves work, agreeing to see him later.