Disclaimer: Still nothing's mine (I don't know why). Guess what I do have will do until I wake up one morning owning all else :)

A/N: A pretty intense chapter for me to write. I hope the way it turned out keeps you interested :) Thanks to everyone who takes the time to read and review, your feedback is very important to me! Enjoy :)

'You sure look cheerful tonight,' Jess noted, holding the punch bag for Tristan as Tristan kept pounding at it, throwing a knee-kick every now and then between punches. He was applying much more force than usual which had to mean something given how laid-back and unrushed Dugray normally was.

'No need to talk my ear off,' Jess probed again.

Tristan didn't reply, punching the bag repeatedly. His blows were quick and smooth, precised. The guy was losing himself in the physical exertion and Jess knew better than to press it. He of all people knew the feeling. It was like being buried under a pile of sand bags trying to find your way out, it felt like being physically suffocated and you tried and tried to beat your way through the obstacles. Sometimes breaking some sweat helped. Others, not so much.

As they wrestled later on, Jess registered how much of his actual strength Tristan had been holding back before. Jess had suspected that Dugray had been easy on him in their sparring, the way a coach would not throw his hardest punches against his trainees. But tonight Jess got a glimpse of what an actual fight between the two of them would be like. To sum it up, Tristan would be winning. By a far stretch. And as much as the guy annoyed the hell out of him, Jess had to admit that Dugray had somehow been there for him through the last couple of months. And those couple of months happened to be the worst in Jess' conscious life so far. Maybe that's why Jess couldn't help the curiosity that crept its way as to the reason why Tristan had suddenly turned from his annoying chatterbox self into a closed off one-syllable man. There had to be a reason. That, or Jess had rubbed off on Tristan more than he knew. Huh.

Paris looked around the Chief's office.

'Geller, make yourself comfortable,' Chief started with a calm smile, 'I asked you here to discuss something that is of great importance to me.'

Paris looked around again. Then resumed eye contact and nodded.

'O-kay. Chief.'

'Please, sit,' he made her a gesture to sit down. She did, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Being called by the Chief strongly resembled being called in the principal's office. It was never something to anticipate. Ah, high school never ended right?

'I've been Chief of surgery of this hospital for more than a year now and feel it my responsibility to follow my staff surgeon's career very closely.'

Paris stood straighter into the leather chair. What was he saying? Was he displeased with her work? Was he giving her a warning? As a mother she did her best to balance between her duties as a parent and as a surgeon but who was she kidding, time was never enough. She could've finished her PHD if she hadn't decided to cut the extra hospital hours and spend more time with Josh lately.

'I've been taking special time to look into your work. Ever since the court trial against Mariano where the previous Chief lost his job.'

Okay then. Let it be quick and clean. Get it over with, Paris thought, her cold fists folding into her lap. You're fired, end of story.

'I want you to be next Chief of surgery,' he said, leaving Paris open-mouthed. 'I know you're behind with your PHD but I'm willing to give you a looser deadline and have you trained to be the leader I believe you are.'

Paris tried to find her voice but couldn't. Finally, she managed to gather herself enough to say,

'Can I... Can I think about it?'

The Chief gave her a surprised look as if to say what is there to think about, but then gave her a nod with a good-natured smile.

'Of course. Think about it, Geller. But know that this is a one in a lifetime oppportunity.'

'It is. You're right. It is.' Paris nodded, still flustered. 'And I am grateful. I just... need to wrap my mind around it.'

'Do. You have until the end of next week to give me your answer. And, Paris?'

She looked up at him.

'Think wisely.'

'Yes, Chief. Thank you. Sir.'

The man and the young boy entered the mosque building hand in hand.

The boy looked up at the man. Both their eyes were sad. Especially the man's.

'What should I say?' the boy asked.

The man squatted down in front of the boy, leaning one arm against his knee, his other hand still holding the boy's.

'You can say whatever you feel like saying,' he said calmly. 'You can talk. You can keep silent. We go in there and you do whatever feels right.'

The boy's amber eyes flickered with a flair of self-consciousness.

'You gonna stay with me right?'

'I'm not going anywhere, kiddo.'

'I miss her,' the boy said almost timidly.

'Yeah,' the man said quietly, looking down at their shoes. 'Me too.'

'You know what her superpower is?' the boy said then, his eyes glittering with a wave of determination. 'She knows we miss her and we're all right because we are together. She knows it.'

The man clenched his jaw and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before he looked back at the boy.

'Dad?'

'Yes, tiger?'

'I love you.'

The man's jaw was set firm and he gave the boy a quick nod as he stood up, the lump in his throat preventing him from voicing an answer. He squeezed the boy's hand and they exchanged small smiles, entering the mosque's praying area. As they stepped over the blue carpet, they steadied themselves in order to say a prayer for the woman they loved and who had been taken away from them on this very date four years ago.

'You okay?' Aiden asked a couple of hours later, studying Tristan's thoughtful face.

They were sitting on a bench facing the Brooklyn Bridge after spending the day outside. There was an unopened box of Turkish delight sitting on the bench between them. It was tradition to eat some on days like this but neither of the two felt like it today and the box stood unopened between them.

Tristan rested his elbows over his knees, letting his head hang for a moment before looking back at Aiden.

'We have a hard case with a boy. He's about your age and he's very ill.'

'What's his name?' Aiden asked, leaning forward too.

'Ronan.'

'Like Ronan the Accuser?' Aiden gasped enthusiastically.

'Yeah,' Tristan smiled a weary smile. 'Like Ronan the Accuser. We've been trying to find a way to help him but we keep failing and it made me think of how helpless sometimes we are to prevent bad things from happening.'

To bring your mom back. To have acted earlier. To have saved her when I still got the chance to.

'Don't mind me,' Tristan ruffled Aiden's hair with a sigh. 'I'm tired and getting cranky.'

Aiden ducked and smoothed his hair.

'Do Ronan's friends come and see him in the hospital?' he asked.

'He's pretty much on his own,' Tristan answered grimly.

Aiden focused on the rays of the setting sun reflected by East River's smooth surface. Then he looked back at Tristan.

'Do you think Ronan likes Harry Potter?'

Tristan gave him a look. Gave it some thought.

'I have a hunch he might.'

'Can we go see him, bring him some Turkish delight?'

Tristan felt the beginning of a smile pull at the corners of his mouth.

'Sure.'

'Come on, let's go, I wanna ask him which Hogwarts house he's in,' Aiden stood up and started for the car. 'Don't forget the delight, dad,' he called over his shoulder.

'He's taken the first round of EEGs and they look promising,' Paris dropped on the couch next to Rory where Rory was reading an Internal Organ Trauma textbook.

'Who.'

Paris gave her a no nonsense look.

'Jess. And his temporal tumor blind guy patient. But I meant Jess. Badass hunky dark hair dark shades guy walking around with his black Labrador? Used to be like a lovesick leech all over you until a bullet in the head triggered his insecurity complex and he went all dark and twisty? Rings a bell?'

Rory flipped another page of the textbook she'd been reading, feigning indifference.

'And why should this be of any current concern to me?'

Paris folded both arms before her chest.

'Really, Gilmore? Because I know it, the whole hospital knows it, even his puppy guide dog knows it - it does concern you, you've been dying to know how Jess' testing is going.'

'What does the dog have to do with it?'

'Oh please,' Paris rolled her eyes. 'The thing has been dragging Jess all around the hospital following your tracks.'

It was true. They kept stumbling upon each other. In the cafeteria. Up the stairs. In exam rooms. The black spawn was like a Rory radar, he kept dragging Jess after her, winning smirks and gossipy whispers from the hospital staff. Cerberus. Who knew his name was so true to his real nature? The devious creature was clearly sent from Satan to make her life living hell.

'The dog has a crush on you,' Paris mused. 'That, or Jess took a pair of your panties when he moved out and the dog sniffed them.'

Rory's head snapped up in surprise.

'The sneaky bastard!' she gasped.

Paris looked a bit taken aback.

'I was actually trying to piss you off into admitting that you care but... oh well,' she rubbed the back of her head.

Rory gave her a confused look.

'Paris, what are you talking about?'

'So Mariano has a panty-fetish, no need to make a fuss about it,' Paris shrugged trying to be the bigger person here.

'What?.'

'Didn't you say that-'

'My shower gel was missing. I thought the moving company misplaced it into the garbage.'

'Boring, boring,' Paris shook her head with a sigh.

Rory's eyes were narrow, lost in indignation, ignoring her friend's comment.

'How does he have the nerve to break up with me and then take my stuff,' Rory vented. 'He doesn't get to take a trophy. He doesn't get to miss me when he is the one walking away. He doesn't get to embrace me and then act as if nothing happened.'

Paris was about to question her about the embrace thing but her mobile rang with Shania Twayn's 'That don't impress me much'.

'Yes, Dugray.'

Rory arched an eyebrow.

Really? She mouthed.

Paris shrugged, mouthing What?. As she listened to Tristan her features stilled for a moment before surprise was written all over her face. She slowly let the hand holding the mobile down, looking directly at Rory, excitement radiating off her.

'Ronan talked.'

'Tristan,' Beatrice Shefield reached a hand to touch his arm and winced as he withdrew it. 'We need to talk.'

'I don't think so,' he replied without moving his look away from the patient's charts he'd been doing at the nurse's station.

'I miss you.'

He let out a snide smile.

'Save it.'

'Look I get it you're pissed off about last time,-'

'Pissed off?' Tristan let out a derisive laugh, turning to give her a look. 'I'm not pissed off with you Bea, I'm simply over.'

'You better think twice before you talk to me like that,' Beatrice's voice grew colder, bossy. She straightened up and her eyes flashed warningly. 'Your sparring buddy is asking me to take a wild chance on his temporal lobe tumor blind patient.'

She watched for a reaction but Tristan's expression didn't waver. Okay then.

'He wants me to take a wild chance on his patient. And probably on himself, if his patient's surgery is successful.'

'What?'

Beatrice's blue eyes flashed with delight, feeling the power of her position.

'Don't you know?' she took a step towards Tristan. 'Mariano has been trying to find out if the bullet is taken out he might start seeing again.'

Tristan ran a hand through his hair with a huff.

'That's insane. It's too close to the internal carotid, he'll get himself killed.'

Beatrice lifted her chin, meeting his eyes, taking another step towards him, stopping an inch from his jaw.

'Not if I talk him out of it.'

'What do you want?' he hissed, although he knew the answer.

'Just one night,' she lifted a hand to touch his cheek. He drew away.

'You need help,' he shook his head.

She gripped at his arm.

'I need you Tristan.'

'No you don't.'

'I love you.'

A couple of months ago when you last set an ultimatum you didn't love me. You loved the power to make me do what you wanted.

'Your love is tainted. You don't really care about anyone but yourself.'

'I need you. I'm addicted to you.'

'You're addicted to bossing someone around, having them attend to your needs. I'm no longer that person, Bea.'

With a determined move he snatched his arm out of her grip and walked away taking the chart with him. Leaving one of the most powerful women in modern surgeon history wipe a tear off her cheek alone in a hospital corridor.

Paris rung the bell once and waited. She thought about ringing it again but told herself to wait for another ten seconds before doing so, because only desperate people rang a bell like there was no tomorrow. She counted to twenty, just to be sure. Then rung again. Maybe he wasn't home. Maybe he was at work. No he isn't, she thought. Because she had checked his schedule and he was off tonight. Okay, whatever. One last time. Because she wasn't a desperate person, right? She lifted her arm to ring again when the door clicked open and a very bare-chested, bed-haired Tristan appeared at the door barefoot. He paused when he saw her, his hand still at the door handle. He looked surprised, to put it mildly. She licked her lips.

'Hi.'

'Paris.'

'Is...' she looked to the side and smoothed her hair in a nervous gesture. 'Is Aiden here?'

Tristan blinked once, his brows furrowing slightly.

'He's at a friend's house, staying the night. Did you... did you come here looking for Aiden?'

'I...' she took a breath in and exhaled it sharply. 'Did you really mean that thing about being friends?' she asked.

'Triis,' a high-pitched woman's voice sounded from the inside of the apartment behind him. 'Who is it?' And then, in a lower-pitched tone that sounded like some sultrier version of Let's bang some more, 'Are you coming back?'

Paris recognized the voice, it was one of the giggly flat-brained preppy nurses who were gushing all over anything male in a ten mile radius.

Paris looked up at him and his expression was still a puzzled one, as if he was struggling to find what she was doing at his door. Not a trace of guilt. He didn't behave like someone who was 'being caught'. Because he had been completely open with her. She had to give him credit for that. He had told her he would step down. He had. And moved back to his previous routine, screwing nameless bimbos.

'Maybe another time,' Paris uttered and gave him a curt nod before she left without another word, taking the stair steps down two at a time.

Paris padded towards her front door with a frown. Whoever had decided to ring her bell at that hour of the night better had some good reason.

As she opened the door her frown transformed into surprise.

'I did mean it,' Tristan lifted two paper bags with what she guessed was takeaway. 'Still need a friend?'

'The Chief offered me to be next Chief of surgery,' Paris blurted.

Tristan gave her disconcerted appearance another look and nodded towards the paper bags in his hand.

'I got a bottle of wine in there.'

...

'And I can't fall asleep at night lately, I need to listen to an audiobook or some music. It's so loud in my head, I can't hear my own thoughts anymore. And with Josh I have no idea what I'm doing. Sometimes I feel like I'm a good parent but then there's always a ton of stuff to do and I'm always on the clock. I'm behind with my PHD. If I take up on the Chief's offer, I have no idea what's gonna happen. I already have my hands full as it is. I'm like a hamster running on a wheel and it never, ever stops. I'm so tired of feeling tired. I'm tired of feeling like I'm behind my own life. I'm tired of listening to my own voice and I'm just...'

Tristan offered her a glass of wine and she took it feeling grateful he was silently listening to her ramble.

'No funny business though,' she pointed a forefinger between her and him.

He paused in front of the fridge, holding a still unopened beer in his hand, and gave her a look. Paris Geller was a science genius but when it came to people's motives sometimes she was as perceptive as that.

'I left the funny business unfinished in my apartment to gather her things. She was wearing a teddy. Wouldn't be if I were there instead of here.'

Paris opened her mouth and then closed it. Somehow, his words brought a rare cringe in her chest. Surely, the teddy-wearing bimbo wasn't happy with tonight's course of events. Word was he had turned down Shefield. Beatrice freaking Shefield. And he'd turned her down. And Rory was right, there was bad blood there, and somehow Paris felt it was related to their meeting for Nanny's surgery. When Shefield had exclusively asked for Tristan's presence during the surgery it had seemed a bit strange but Paris had ignored it, being too concerned for Nanny to pay attention to any minor details. Now she strained to remember more about Tristan and Shefield's exchange back then but all she remembered was Tristan gave off a rather reserved vibe while Shefield all but felt him up during the surgery. Damn. This was it, wasn't it? They had joked that Tristan would need to prostitute himself in order to get Shefield there but now Paris wondered how much of the joke was actually true. The woman was obviously powerful and she was out to get Tristan. There was irony in it. Tristan Ovary-Whisperer Dugray being the subject to sexual harassment. Whoa.

But somehow Paris didn't find the irony funny. Because he was a decent guy. He never lied to his one-night stands about what they were to him. And he had left a willing one-night stand, well, standing. She couldn't be happy about it. Tristan knew it and yet here he was - paying home visit to Paris Geller, worn-out mother of one, tired and bitchy med-bot who had almost forced herself on him a couple of weeks ago. He knew what he was trading his night of exotic brainless fun for and he was here nonetheless, dealing with her mess.

'Alcohol helps me get on my good side,' she offered with a shrug.

'Now that's more like it,' Tristan smirked and moved on to the kitchen counter to open his beer. 'Cheers, my friend.'

Truce.

'He's got his act in the bedroom all right but otherwise, he's no boyfriend material.'

Paris recognized that voice. It was the high-pitched voice of the stood up teddy-wearing bimbo from Tristan's apartment. So here she was, one of the preppy nurses. Paris looked at Tristan. His eyes loked calm but jaw was set firm as he continued talking to one of their colleagues at the nurse's station, discussing a patient. Paris narrowed her eyes at the preppy nurse and her friends who were still whispering something and looking at him shaking their heads a couple of feet away.

'Dugray,' she approached him with a couple determined steps. Both Tristan and the other doctor stopped talking and looked at her. 'Yesterday you were amazing. You...' she met his eyes and gave him a pointed look, remembering a time when he'd said something that helped her. 'You rock. Thank you.'

She touched his shoulder and propped herself up as she left a chaste peck on his jaw. Tristan looked flustered as she gave him an uncharacteristically non-menacing smile before she was on her way down the corridor. The preppy nurse's jaw was hanging open by the time Paris passed her by.

Paris let a satisfied smirk creep up her lips, continuing on her way towards the Chief's office.

'What do you mean you turned the offer down?'

Rory stopped and stared at Paris in disbelief.

'I don't have time for anything even as things are now,' Paris shrugged. 'If I become Chief I won't be able to be much of a mother to Josh anymore.'

'But it's something you've always wanted,' Rory narrowed her eyes.

Paris thought about it for a moment. She thought of Josh's face when she was home this morning and woke him up to take to kindergarten. The way his eyes lit at the realization his mom was home and was taking him personally.

'Well, I guess the price I'd have to pay was too high,' Paris shrugged with a calm smile. She finally felt at peace with herself. It hadn't happened for a long, long while. 'I chose what's worth more.'

'Rory...' Helen caught up with them, hardly catching her breath.

'They're performing the next set of EEGs today.'

'O-kay.'

She gave them a worried look.

'For this set of EEGs the patient should be in drug-induced coma.'

'Do you...' Rory narrowed her eyes, realization dawning on her. 'Do you really think he'd go that far?'

'How badly does Jess want his sight back?' Paris said.

'We need to get to him.'

TBC