I've resigned myself to the fact that this is probably gonna go under the radar, but I miss writing (and watching and reading) canon Jate, and no one else seems to be doing it at the moment, so I decided to dip back into the embarrassingly large pool of FF ideas I've managed to collect. For some reason it was the one shot that wouldn't end so I split it into two parts. The rest still needs work but I'll post it soon if there's enough interest. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about (or abandoned) "Bedside Manners", I just needed to do something to help with the hiatus! This week has been crazy again but I should be able to get another update out over the weekend. ;)

IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE?

Part 1.

As he slowed to a crawl, squinting through the windshield at the numbers on each of the letterboxes, Jack replayed the frantic message Kate had left on his voicemail inside his head: "Jack? You have to come over – there's something wrong with Aaron. I tried calling the nanny but she's not answering her cell…"

The neighbourhood that she'd directed him to was peaceful – idyllic even compared to the sterile apartment complex that he'd been about to go home to – but he couldn't help wondering if this was just the quiet before the storm. Who knew what lay behind any one of those doors?

He wasn't sure that he had the right house when he pulled up in front of an attractive split level with immaculate gardens and a well-manicured lawn until he checked the scrap of paper that he'd scrawled her address on again.

As he parked and got out, a million scenarios raced through his imagination, each more frightening than the last: What if someone from her past had caught up with her and tried to hurt her "son"? What if Widmore's people had gotten to them? What if Aaron really had contracted some mysterious sickness just like Rousseau promised?

He didn't wait for her to come to the door, his heart hammering inside his chest as he burst into the foyer. "Kate?" he called, halting, confused when all he found was her pacing the hardwood floor of the living room with Aaron in her arms. He was crying, but he didn't look like he'd been harmed. "What happened? Is the baby okay?"

"I don't know! He won't stop screaming!" she told him, her expression haggard as she bounced him against her shoulder.

Was that all? Jack breathed a sigh of relief, switching into clinical mode as he took off his suit coat and draped it over the back of the couch. "How long has he been like this?"

"A couple of hours. Since the last time I fed him," she confessed, her eyes growing wide with horror as a new thought occurred to her. "Oh God, you don't think… I did this to him, do you? Because I always do exactly what it says on the can!"

She looked like she was about to cry herself as she added, "This is all my fault. I poisoned him. I must be the worst mother in the world."

"Hey, calm down, Kate, it's okay," he said, rolling up his sleeves. "Give him here." He held his arms out for him and reluctantly she did.

"Just watch his head. You need to make sure you support it."

For a moment he wasn't sure that she was going to let go. "I've got it, Kate," he assured her, settling him on his back on the couch so that he could check him over.

He was a little overheated, but that could just have come from working himself up; he watched him pull his little legs up to his chest, his face red, his clenched fists flailing against the seat cushions. "It's colic."

"Colic?" she repeated with an uncertain look and he could tell by her tone that she didn't like that sound of it. "That's bad, right? It means I made him sick."

"It's pretty common in children his age," he tried to convince her with a gentle laugh when fresh worry lines appeared in her brow, but she refused to believe that it wasn't something she could have prevented.

"What is it?"

He grinned at how cute her concern was, deciding that he liked this new, softer side of her. "My guess? Wind."

She averted her gaze, glancing up at him with a sheepish smile. "So he probably can't die from it then?"

"Not unless he cries himself into an aneurism," he teased her.

He meant to lighten the mood but she paled. "That can happen?!"

"Relax, Kate. It was just a joke," he explained before she could panic again, struggling to contain his laughter as he amended, "I've never even heard of a baby dying from it."

Her colour returned as she let out the breath she was holding; a second later he felt her palm connect with his bicep through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"Ow," he complained as he lifted Aaron back against him, keeping him between them like a shield in case she decided that she wanted to hit him again. "Was that really necessary?"

"Don't ever scare me like that again," she told him, levelling him with a warning stare. "I trusted you, Jack, and you almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Usually he would have shown signs of digestive problems by now," he continued, moving the conversation along then, "but I guess the change in his diet could've brought this on."

"I haven't changed his diet," she insisted, confused. "Veronica – the nanny – showed me which formula to get and that's what I've been giving him."

"But you still had to switch him over to formula," he reminded her with a pointed nod at her chest, trying to be as tactful as he could.

She glanced down at it and flushed. "So how do we cure it?" she asked, pulling self consciously at her pyjama top to get his attention away from her breasts, making him all too aware of how low cut it was as he tried not to stare.

"There isn't really a cure – not one doctors swear by," he told her, forcing himself to stop checking her out and focus on Aaron. That was why she'd called him. "We just have to wait for it to pass."

"There's nothing we can do for him?" she asked with an unhappy look as the baby's face began to take on a purplish hue. "We just let him keep crying like this?"

"There're things we can do to make him a little more comfortable," he assured her.

"Like what?"

"Like we could give him a warm bath," he suggested.

"Okay, let's do that," she agreed, relieved, latching onto the idea. "The bathroom's upstairs. Come on, I'll show you where it is."

She led the way up to an elegant, cream tiled room that he was sure must be bigger than the main bedroom of his apartment, where he laid Aaron on the bench and began unbuttoning his overalls while she filled the tub.

"Careful. Don't drop him," she insisted, hovering behind him as he knelt on the mat and eased him into it.

"I'm not gonna drop him, Kate," he scoffed. He could do this. He was a world-class spinal surgeon: how hard can it be to bathe a three-month-old infant?

"It's just that he's moving around so much…"

"I'm not gonna drop him," he repeated with more determination this time, concentrating on keeping the back of his head cradled in one hand as he sponged his delicate skin with the other.

"There, see? He'd doing better already," he told her when his wails subsided and he hiccoughed, lying placidly in his arms.

"So he is," she agreed with a smile, crouching beside him so that she could flick droplets onto his chest. "You're just a water baby, aren't you, sweetpea?"

They let him soak there, kicking his legs and splashing until it began to cool; then she held out a towel and Jack placed him inside, supporting him while she set to work drying his hair, his chest, his arms...

"Damnit," he swore under his breath when, after a few minutes of this, he started to whimper again. He was so sure that they had it under control.

He doubted that he could hear him over the sound of his own cries, but Kate covered Aaron's tiny ears with her palms, fixing him with a disapproving stare. "Not in front of the baby, Jack!"

"Sorry," he agreed with a smile. She couldn't see it yet, but motherhood suited her. He was enjoying watching her in mommy mode, even if she was convinced that she was doing a poor job.

She shot him a helpless look as, his batteries recharged, the baby resumed bellowing at the top of his lungs. "What'd we do now?"

"Let me think," he said, summoning all of his willpower to shut out the assault Aaron was making on his eardrums so that he could come up with a workable plan. "We could try a massage." That should at least ease some of his pain.

They brought him, still bundled in the towel, into Kate's bedroom and set him in the middle of the queen-sized bed. She fetched a clean diaper from the nursery and Jack manoeuvred it underneath him, fastening the tabs, leaving him undressed from the waist up as he perched on the edge of the mattress, rubbing his belly in a clockwise direction.

"I think he likes it," she said when he took hold of his calves and peddled them in a cycling motion and Aaron chuckled.

He knew that she'd spoken too soon when he stepped back to let her try and the baby started crying again, as soon as he removed his hands.

"Hey, no, no…" she muttered, replacing them with her own but it was too late. She sighed, leaning forward on her elbow to drop her face into her palm. "It's no good. We're never gonna get him to sleep."

The word 'sleep' trigged a new thought. "Kate, you're a genius," he told her, wanting to kiss her. If they could just get him to relax, then maybe he would pass out from exhaustion. He had to be getting tired. "Where's your vacuum cleaner?"

"In the closet by the stairs," she told him, distracted as she sat up, stroking the baby's scalp with a pained look. "Shh, I know it hurts, but it's hurting me to see you like this," she cooed. "I guess you're too young for me to tell you to 'man up', huh?"

She glanced up when he raced out of the room. "Where're you going?" she complained. "You can't leave me alone with him! Jack!"

There was a hysterical edge in her tone, but he ignored it, returning with the appliance and plugging it into the socket outside her room.

"Are you out of your mind?" she insisted over the whine of the vacuum and Aaron's high-pitched wails when he turned it on, looking at him like he'd just sprouted a second head as he began pushing it along the hallway. "Do you wanna upset him even more?"

"Just watch him," he assured her. "And keep doing what I just showed you."

She went back to massaging him, murmuring soft words to him, and when Jack poked his head in a few minutes later, he saw that his eyelids were closed, his fists lax at his sides.

"That's amazing," she told him in an awed whisper. "How d'you know to do that?"

"I'm a doctor, Kate," he deadpanned as he switched it off, deciding against giving her the more rational explanation, about white noise. Let her think that he had some kind of magic touch.

"Is that your way of saying a magician never reveals his secrets?" she teased him, swaddling the unconscious child in his blanket and scooping him against her chest.

"Something like that," he agreed with a grin.

Part two (where it starts to get a little AU): involves red wine, a discussion about the island and a declaration from Kate... ;)