chaptered fic; between me and you (02: maybe this, maybe that)
pairing: aizawa kosaku/shiraishi megumi
word count: 3705 words
note: more post-accident happenings. Longer chapter for this one because I got a bit carried away with our favourite Awesome-Foursome interaction. More notes at the end.

"Aizawa! I could scarcely believe it when Shiraishi told us you asked us for lunch! I half expected to see flying pigs and glittering unicorns," Fujikawa jibbed cheerfully as his tray clattered down next to Aizawa's.

"I did not ask you," Aizawa responded coolly, removing the lid of his miso soup. "Shiraishi did."

Fujikawa made a face. "Charming as always."

"Come on, Fujikawa-sensei. It's rare to have that one quiet moment in Emergency that enables all of us to have lunch together, so let's just enjoy that." Shiraishi pulled out a chair opposite to Aizawa, as Hiyama settled down beside her, lunch tray in hand.

Aizawa's eyes drifted towards her, and held her in his gaze, and she felt a flush creeping up her neck. Praying fervently that no one noticed, especially him, she cleared her throat, and pulled her tray towards her, and picking up her chopsticks.

They had not really talked since he left her apartment; had not talked the entire morning. She had a feeling that his lunch invitation today wasn't meant to include the other two, but she just needed some time to fend off the awkwardness she was feeling. It wasn't that she was trying to avoid him exactly, but things were just…weird. After all, she didn't have a lot of experience sleeping with a colleague. Or to be fair, she never had that experience. The fact that it was Aizawa was more than just a little disconcerting. She had known him for so long without really knowing him, so it was hardly surprising that her thoughts were all jumbled right now.

Still, as she had reminded herself, and him, this morning, they were all adults. It would be fine, of course.

"Oh, Aizawa. Thank you for taking my drunk roommate home yesterday night," Hiyama said offhandedly, tearing the lid of her yoghurt and spooning it. "I trust that you took good care of her."

Shiraishi was taking a big bite of noodles as Hiyama said that, and to her horror, she started choking on her food, coughing as her noodles went down her trachea instead of her oesophagus.

"Geez, Shiraishi," Hiyama fumbled in her pockets for a tissue, and dug one out from the right pocket of her scrubs. She turned to her friend, and saw that she was already holding a napkin in her hand, still coughing violently, and Aizawa was right beside her, patting her back firmly.

Her cough soon subsided, and she grabbed her glass of iced-tea, taking a few quick swallows as she wiped away the tears that came about because of her coughing fit.

"Are you all right?" Aizawa asked, and she nodded quickly, taking another sip of tea, finishing it.

Hiyama casted a glance at Fujikawa, who was staring at his colleagues with his mouth wide opened. It wasn't that Aizawa was the first to response, or that he gave Shiraishi a napkin, or that he patted her to help her with her choking. As cold-hearted and indifferent as Aizawa portrayed himself to be, they knew otherwise, after nine whole years together.

It was the fact that he still had his hand on Shiraishi's back even after she had stopped choking. And that hand was running up and down Shiraishi's back in a reassuring manner that was extremely unlike Aizawa.

Hiyama could practically see the gossip antenna sprouting from the sides of Fujikawa's head. But he wisely kept his mouth shut, although she was very sure that some sort of talk will be reaching the ears of the likes of Morimoto-sensei and Kaji-san soon.

She gazed at Aizawa and Shiraishi shrewdly as she shoved her juice towards her roommate. Aizawa had taken his seat, and resumed eating his noodles as if nothing had happened.

"Thanks, Hiyama," Shiraishi said gratefully as she took the juice, looking a bit flustered. Hiyama had a funny feeling that it wasn't entirely due to choking on her food.

Something was up between those two, she thought. It was as plain as the noses on their faces. Shiraishi had never been particularly good at hiding her feelings or her thoughts, and Aizawa…well, he mostly acted like his emotions were permanently stored in a freezer most of the time, which made that little exchange curiouser and curiouser.

Hiyama smiled to herself. She would just have to force it out of Shiraishi later. It wouldn't take much, probably just about four standard drinks.

Shiraishi tapped her pen against her teeth as she frowned at the surgical report in her hand. Making a few quick notations, she kept her eyes trained on the report as she wrote, her left hand pushing aside all other paperwork, aiming for her laptop, which was just beyond reach.

"Here," she heard a voice above her shoulder, and looked up to see Aizawa placing her laptop next to her.

"Thanks," she flashed him a brief smile and open the lid of her laptop. Silence settled between them, the only sounds in the room were muffled chatter in the distance, and the whirring of the laptop as it started up.

Aizawa took his seat at the table across from hers, flipping open the lid of his own laptop. They worked quietly, typing reports and finishing patient summaries, but Shiraishi's concentration had been broken. She was acutely aware of the doctor across from her, and every move he was making; the slight squeak of the wheels of his chair as he spun to the table behind him to locate something, the rifling of papers, the clattering of the keyboard as he typed.

Shiraishi nibbled at her nail as she pretended to concentrate at an image of a CT scan on her screen. At some level, she supposed that they should talk about what had happened between them. Recalling it, she felt an involuntary flush creeping up her neck. She wasn't herself when she drinks, she knew that. She could get erratic, crazy and irrational; completely out of character.

It was certainly out of character for her, to put it mildly, to ask Aizawa to stay with her, and for her to initiate what had transpired between them.

It wasn't her, this whole one-night-stand thing. She wasn't a prude, but she wasn't in the habit of falling into bed with random men, although it might be extremely unfair to classify Aizawa as a "random man". She cherished the sanctity of intimacy to a degree.

But what had happened had happened, and they still had to work together, so perhaps it was best to clear the air. She just needed for Aizawa to understand that she was okay, and she expected nothing from him, because she knew that he wouldn't want anything. He wouldn't want any strings hanging, and that was fine, because neither did she.

There was a strange pinch in her heart as she thought that. She thought she knew why, but she tamped it down, refusing to verbalise it, even in her head.

Shiraishi cleared her throat. "Aizawa."

He looked up, his face impassive.

"Should we talk?"

He looked at her carefully, and then in one swift moment, he rolled his chair over to her side of the table, so that they were face-to-face. She had known him long enough to know that that was a yes, they should talk, but she had to be the one to start talking.

"About last night…I was upset. And…I wasn't...well. It was very kind of you stay with me, but I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"Don't apologise," he said evenly. "There's no need to. I stayed because I wanted to. That's all." His expression didn't change, betraying none of his emotions or thoughts.

"Oh," she managed. What did he mean by that? He stayed because he "wanted to"? Wanted to what? To accompany me? To sleep with me?

"No one should be alone when they're upset, if they didn't have to be," he said in a low tone.

"Oh," she said again, feeling strangely touched. "Anyway…uhhh…I'm not expecting, well, I don't expect anything else from…I mean, it was an accident," she finished, clamping down on her embarrassment.

A strange expression flitted across his face, one that she couldn't quite make out. "An accident," he repeated.

She continued in a rush. "I just want to make sure, that, you know, you're, I mean, we're…"

"Shiraishi," he interrupted. "I presume that we're having this conversation because we do not want whatever happened last night to affect our working relationship. It won't. At least, from my side, it won't."

She let out the breath she didn't realise she was holding. "Well, it won't. For me, too."

Aizawa looked at her steadily for a few seconds, as if he expected her to say something else, but when she didn't, he turned away, rolling his chair back to his desk.

"So, we're okay?" She knew he hated repeating himself, but she had to make sure.

He kept his eyes trained on his laptop screen, typing rapidly. "Yes, we are."

Hiyama looked up as she heard the door opening, and Shiraishi dragging herself into her apartment, looking exhausted. Without a word, she walked into the living room, collapsing on the couch next to Hiyama, closing her eyes. "I'm so tired."

Her roommate closed her magazine and tossed it on the coffee table. "Start talking," she ordered.

"What are you talking about?" Shiraishi asked, eyes still closed.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. What happened yesterday after Fujikawa and I left?" Hiyama prodded her roommate at the ribs.

"Nothing happened," she replied quickly. Too quickly.

"Oh no, don't even try, Shiraishi. You're an awful liar."

"I need a drink." Shiraishi got up, and headed into the kitchen. She grabbed a glass from the dish-drying rack, opening the refrigerator, and getting out a carton of orange juice. Hiyama followed her into the kitchen.

"Don't make me ply you with alcohol to get the truth out of you."

"Nothing happened!" Shiraishi took a huge gulp of juice, but her roommate immediately caught the faint blush on her face.

"What? Did you sleep with him or something?" She asked jokingly, and Shiraishi sputtered, nearly choking on her juice. Her blush deepened, and Hiyama's eyes widened.

"No way! You slept with Aizawa?!"

Shiraishi winced. "Kind of."

"Kind of? Either you did, or you didn't."

"Okay, I did, but it was…I was drunk. You know how I can get…and he was just being nice."

Hiyama wrinkled her nose. "'Nice' and 'Aizawa' don't exactly go together, not in the same sentence. And besides, he can be nice to you without needing having sex with you."

"I was very upset," she said quietly. "And…I don't know what he was thinking, really, but I think neither of us meant for it to happen. It just did."

Her roommate raised an eyebrow. Personally, she really couldn't say she was very surprised. Those two have been circling each other for years now. Suddenly, she gave a snort of laughter. "I'm sorry, but the idea of Aizawa being hot-blooded enough to have sexual desire is…"

"Hiyama!" Shiraishi covered her face in embarrassment. "I really don't want to talk about it any further," she said hurriedly, putting her glass into the sink and practically running to her bedroom.

The door slammed, leaving Hiyama standing alone in the kitchen.

Well. That was certainly an unexpected turn of events. Chewing on her nail, she stared at her friend's closed bedroom door. However things progress from there onwards, she just hoped Shiraishi would not get hurt.

Things were actually normal.

The first couple of days were just the teeniest bit awkward. Aizawa and Shiraishi side-stepped each other more than usual, but Hiyama pretended she knew nothing, and Fujikawa was too dense to really notice anything out of ordinary. But then, they encountered a rather dire situation of a collapsed wall at a construction site, where the entire team was dispatched for emergency rescue, and that sort of kicked everything back into the rightful order.

They fell back to the easy camaraderie of working together – performing surgeries, taking Heli-duties - and resumed their daily bickering and arguing over the training of the Fellows. She bought him canned coffee during the late shifts, and he bought her sandwiches when she was all caught up during mealtimes.

It took a couple of weeks, but they were back to where they were.

Aizawa stripped off his gloves and undid his surgical mask. "Patient has been stabilised. Move her into Intensive Care, and monitor the blood pressure. Let me know if it drops."

Saejima nodded, making quick notations on the patient's chart. "Got it," she said, hanging the chart at the foot of the bed, and pushed the patient out, assisted by Yokomine.

He took off his surgical gown, casting a look at the clock.

Shiraishi should have finished her interview about thirty minutes ago. She had been selected to apply for a one-week lecture programme on Emergency Medicine organised by the John Hopkins School of Medicine. It was a highly prestigious programme, and would be greatly beneficial to her career. He would be lying if he claimed he wasn't tempted to apply for it himself, but he supposed as staff leader, she should have the opportunity.

He walked into the office, wanting to write up the patient's notes whilst it was still fresh in his mind. He was nearly finishing when Hiyama walked in, still dressed in her street clothes, yet to change for work. "Heard anything?" he asked, without looking up.

"She didn't get it," Hiyama hung up her coat and deposited her bag on her chair.

Aizawa looked up. "What?"

"She didn't get it," she repeated. "I didn't know exactly what went wrong, she wouldn't say."

He put down his pen slowly. "Is she okay?"

She shrugged. "You think? She's at home, if you want to check on her. I would've stayed with her, but I'm on night shift today. Fujikawa couldn't swap with me, and you weren't picking up your phone." She picked up her stethoscope and hung it around her neck, heading for the locker room. She paused mid-way, and without turning around, said, "at least give her a call, or something."

He didn't answer her.

Shiraishi was lying down on the couch, replaying the interview in her head when her doorbell rang. Sighing, she sat up. She told Hiyama she didn't want anything, but it looked like her roommate had gone ahead and ordered her food. Dragging herself to the door, she opened it, to reveal Aizawa standing outside.

"Aizawa," she said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Hiyama told me," he said without preamble. "Can I come in?"

She lifted her shoulder in a shrug, and stepped aside, as he walked in and took off his jacket. They stood awkwardly at the door, before Shiraishi shuffled to the couch and slumped down. He sat down beside her, hands clasped together.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked finally.

She contemplated on saying no, because she really didn't want to, but she looked up, and saw the look of rare, genuine concern in his eyes. She leaned back and sighed. "They asked me to describe my biggest challenge as a trainee, and wanted elaboration on how I overcame the said challenge. And I…I just froze."

She didn't need to explain any further, he instantly knew. "Shiraishi…"

She cut him off before he could say any more. "Anyway. For the rest of the interview, I couldn't concentrate, couldn't say the right things, and that was that."

He knew there was more to it, of course, but if she wasn't telling him, he would not assume. "This is one interview, one opportunity," he said calmly. "Take this as an experience, and learn from it. There's no use dwelling on this."

"It's not about failing the interview!" she burst out suddenly, the emotions she had been holding in spilling forth. "It's about…you knew what it's really about. It's been…eight years, and I thought I had put it behind me, a long time ago. But when they asked that question, all I could remember was…" she swallowed the lump in her throat, she simply refused to cry in front of him. Taking a deep breath, she covered her face, attempting to regain her composure. "Sometimes, I just wish I could be like you, you know?"

He didn't say anything, he just continued looking at her, waiting for her to finish.

"You know precisely how to react in every situation. You don't dwell on mistakes. You don't dwell on what-ifs. You just…push ahead. Doing exactly what you need to do." She lifted her head, looking at him. "How do you do it?"

"I'm a doctor," he said. "I'm not God. I make every single medical decision to the best of my abilities and my knowledge. Sometimes, it doesn't work. It's easy to trap yourself within that vortex when it doesn't, but that has no value, it doesn't help."

She sniffed, but he was relieved to see that there were no tears.

"Shiraishi," he moved just a little closer to her. "Feeling guilty and affected, even over something that had happened years ago, is natural. But don't let it dictate you."

She let out her breath in a huff, and nodded. They sat in companionable silence, until she let out a small laugh. "You know, this is the first time I've ever failed a test or an interview."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

She nudged his shoulder with hers. "You're one to talk, Mr. Perfect."

He leaned back on her couch and crossed his legs. "I failed an anatomy paper in my first semester of medical school."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You?"

"My grandmother broke her wrist at the time. Finances were tough, so I secretly started working to help out. She was furious when she found out, however. Made me promised that I'd never work while I was studying."

At least she never had to worry about finances when she was studying. In fact, all her life, she never needed to worry about money at all. She had always known about how tough Aizawa was, how he basically fought for scholarships and bulldozed his way through medical school and housemanship, but she felt like she was really starting to appreciate him for being so brilliant, despite his circumstances.

"Well, it's a revelation to find out that Mr. Perfect isn't that perfect after all," she said lightly, as he scowled at her.

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this, especially Fujikawa," he muttered, already regretting that he told her about that one blemish on his academic record.

"I won't," she said. Another silence settled between them. Aizawa thought perhaps he should go, she seemed all right now, but a small part of him was reluctant to. He knew how she could be. She could easily fall back to the vortex he talked about, and her confidence would take another hit.

"I'm fine," Shiraishi said suddenly, as if she read his mind. "If you need to go, please do. Thank you for coming over. Really. I truly appreciate it."

She flashed him a smile, and as he looked at her, he saw that her smile didn't really reach her eyes, and there were still conflicting emotions within their depths.

Aizawa didn't exactly know why he did what he did next. He, who was always so rational, so practical, made his second irrational decision in as many weeks.

He surged forward, hands on her shoulders, and before she could react, he kissed her. She stilled, not responding, and he started to pull back, apologies already forming in his head. They had agreed that everything was normal, okay, unchanged, he didn't quite know how to explain this one.

And then he felt her lips began to move against his, without hesitation, as she returned his kiss, her hands gripping his neck before sliding up to his hair. His hands slid down her back, down to her hips, as he pulled her closer to him. He angled his head, intensifying the kiss, running his tongue over her upper lip, and she sighed, soft and breathless. Her fingers curled around the hair at the nape of his neck as she pressed herself closer to him, kissing him like she couldn't get enough of him.

He plundered her mouth, and she was as sweet and as exhilarating as he remembered. All the memories of their night together came rushing forth as she nipped at his lips, entangling her tongue with his. His hand slipped underneath her blouse, splaying his fingers on the bare skin of her hips, his mouth on hers insistent, but she wasn't allowing him full control.

Aizawa wanted that control, however, and he was pretty used to getting his own way. He scooped up her slender legs, dragging her onto his lap, never breaking the kiss. She shifted, almost straddling him, her knees gripping the sides of his thighs as her hands drifted downward, moving to untuck his shirt. She never lifted her mouth from his, nibbling lightly at his bottom lip as their tongues battle for dominance.

"Shiraishi…" he breathed her name into her mouth as his hand travelled up her back under her blouse. She was busying herself with the buttons of his shirt, unfastening one, and then another. It was reminiscent of that night, but there was no alcohol involved this time. None whatsoever. They would not be able to use the drunken excuse after this.

He reached up, and caught her hand with his, just as she was about to undo the third button. He broke off the kiss, panting slightly, and pulled back to look at her. She was breathing as hard as he was, her eyes wide.

The question was unasked, not verbalised, yet it reverberated throughout the room.

Are we really doing this?

Aizawa waited. He initiated it, he knew. But it was her call. He would never do anything she didn't want to do, no matter how much he wanted it.

Shiraishi gave him a small smile, placing a hand on his cheek. Leaning in, she kissed him, slowly, languidly. She wanted it. She wanted him. He leaned into her, and deepened the kiss, pushing her shirt upwards.

He'd think about the consequences later.

A/N: I can't remember the last time I was on such a roll. I guess being obsessed with a pairing really does that to me. Anyway, here's the second chapter! I am still contemplating on whether do I want to be explicit…errr…specific about their second time. That's kinda up in the air…so what do y'all want? If the request for specifics is made, I'm more than happy to have a go at it, ahahah. I do eventually plan to get specific anyway, since Code Blue writers are never ever going to go there, lol.

Anyway, if I ended up detailing the rendezvous (in the next chapter), I'll have to change the rating into M, so set your filters accordingly to locate this fic.

On another note, I will be excruciatingly busy at work the next two days, and then I leave for Beijing for work. Probably wouldn't be able to update this one for about slightly more than a week (about 10 days, give or take), so apologies for that.

But please do keep your reviews, comments and criticisms coming. Or even suggestions. I have a framework for this fic (especially the ending lol), but the in-betweens are always changeable.

Thanks for reading!

Extra note: I uploaded an old Kurosagi/Code Blue crossover fic I wrote nine years ago. Click on the "Crossover" tab on the top right hand corner to find it. Set your filters to include M, please :) (caution: mature content)