She was late.

She was late and she really hated being late.

But his coffee was still brewing, and his favourite cookies were still in the wrapper on the kitchen counter. Her shoes and bag were discarded by the door and she was trying her best to run a brush through her hair whilst she whirled around the kitchen attempting to make an easy morning for the relaxed man who sat with a newspaper in hand and his feet up on the couch.

Anyone else, god if it were anyone else, she would have left ten minutes ago like she was supposed to. She would have thrown the packet of cookies on their lap and told them to get up and do it themselves. She would have cussed them out for being annoyingly lazy and demanding.

Because why was she the one running around after him whilst she was looking at a possible thirty-six-hour shift ahead of her.

But this was Paul.

And he always did this – he made her run around after him and for him; even when his day was completely free. And things had been good with them for the past couple of weeks, sure It wasn't good in the way other couples would say things were good, but it was good for them.

He had been calmer, less angry. She thinks it may have something to do with the fact that she had worked on his service for a little while; he knew where she was, who she spoke to, how she spent her day and when she would be home – and that was the way he liked it.

She wouldn't dare mention that she spent her breaks behind the kitchen with Alex or Stephanie or Shane or Heather. Never Leah, she seemed to have a habit of running back to "Dr. Stadler" every time she spotted Jo speaking with someone that was not her husband – she really could not stand Leah. And she's almost certain that if she were to ever mention Alex to Paul again that she'd find herself on the brink of a painful painful death.

And that thought really scared her.

So, she did what she was supposed to and what he expected of her because things were good, and she wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. In her experience, good doesn't last forever but she was determined to make it last more than usual.

Finally, the coffee is done, and it's being poured into his favourite mug; the one that was slightly larger than the rest and sported deep brown coffee stains all over it. She places two cookies on the saucer, beside the mug, and she's trying her best not to spill the coffee as she rushes over to the couch to pass it over to him so she can finally be on her way.

"Here," she forces a sweet smile as she places it in his hand. "I need to run, I'm super late." She tells him, her voice still sweet as she pecks him on the lips.

"Whose service are you on today?" His voice is a little hoarse from sleep and he doesn't offer her a thank you or much enthusiasm into the kiss.

Jo's shoving her feet into her trainers, bending down to the tie the laces as fast as she possibly can. She knows why he's asking but she won't give him that, she won't give him a reason to get pissed. "I'm not sure," she murmurs, faking nonchalance. "I'm hoping Yang," she stands up once her laces are tied and hikes her bag onto her shoulder, "she's on a crazy streak at the moment and I want to see her in action."

He nods with a small smile, satisfied. She's pleased that's where the conversation ends. "I'll call you when I can." She tells him, unlocking the door. "Enjoy your day off," she tries, just as she's about to exit their house – she doesn't know why she's stalling, she's terribly late.

"See you, babe."

With a sigh, she leaves. He never did offer much when it came to being nice, even when they were at their best, he still always seemed to keep her at arm's length. Sometimes it's a blessing and sometimes it's a curse … today, as her watch tells her she's now twenty minutes late, she has a feeling it's a blessing.

Jo makes it to the hospital in record time, she drives a little over the speed limit and doesn't bother to drive to her usual parking space; she chooses the one closest and sprints the rest of the way to the front door. She's still terribly late but she feels a little better knowing she managed to shave a minute or two off how late she actually was.

She barges her way into the intern locker room, she's not surprised it's empty and she's not surprised she's not having to push her way to get to her locker like usual. It was eerily quiet in here and she's certain she will not be late again; she misses Stephanie and Shane bickering and she misses laughing with the group when Heather says something incredibly weird.

But despite all that she missed, as she pulls down her skin tight jeans she realises that this is the first time she's ever been able to get into her scrubs without having to excuse herself into the bathroom stall. It was easier that was for sure, easier than trying to shimmy out of her extremely tight pants in such a confined space.

It feels nice not having to hide; there were a few faint bruises on her upper thighs but nothing fresh and nothing blotchy or angry on her skin and it was nice not having to look at her bare skin and feel like she was going to be sick. It wasn't a feeling she was common to anymore.

"Oh," she hears from behind her as she's poking her head through her scrub top, "you're late." She can recognise the sound of Leah's judgemental and squeaky tone without having to whip her head around. "Why are you late?" She asks, moving towards her own locker and yanking out a bottle of deodorant.

Jo shrugs, "I had a busy morning."

"Really?" Leah questions with a smirk and a snort, "and I thought Jo Wilson never messed up."

Jo frowns, slamming her locker shut. "I'm a little late," she shakes her head, "at least I didn't get caught giving blood to a Jehovah's Witness." It was a little bitchy and a little unlike her, but Leah had a way of not only getting on her nerves but also causing her problems. "And, you know, sleeping with my boss –"

"Hold up," Leah's hand flies up to stop Jo, "do you have a problem with Alex and I?"

It was Jo's turn to scoff; she couldn't help the small giggle that bubbles out of her lips. "Leah," Jo shakes her head, a humorous smile on her face. Rather than play into Leah's hand and cause a petty argument which would only end bad for herself, she turns it around. "I don't want to see you get hurt."

"HA!" Leah mocks, "right."

With that, Jo rolls her eyes and makes her way to the door. "Maybe you should worry about your own marriage before you poke your nose in my relationship." Jo doesn't stop to reply to Leah, she would not give her the satisfaction. "Besides, isn't Alex your friend –" Leah is cut off by the sound of the locker room door slamming shut behind Jo.

What did that mean?

She knows her and Paul had many many problems, there was no denying that; she had the bruises and the paranoia to confirm it. But Leah had no idea about that, she's sure because if she had then so would the entire hospital by now. So, what the hell did Leah mean by that?

The question runs through her mind again and again and again as she walks through the hospital, not entirely sure where she was going considering she didn't know whose service she was on today.

As if her feet were working with a mind of her own, she ends up on the peds floor, it was involuntary; she thinks. She's here because this is where she spends so much of her time, it's the route she knows best so it's understandable she's walking towards Alex without even thinking.

"Finally!" He huffs, he's not happy but he's not angry – thankfully. "You're late."

Jo groans, placing a dainty hand to her temple as she rests against the nurse's station besides him. "I know," her voice is barely a mumble. But then she realises that he's been waiting for her. "I'm with you today?" She perks up slightly at the thought … don't ask her why, she does not know why.

Alex's eyebrows furrow, "that's why you're here aren't you?" He's been focused on the tablet places in his hands since before she got here but her question makes him pull his eyes away from the screen and towards her.

She looked nice, he thought. Her plump pink lips were covered with a shiny clear gloss and her thick brunette hair was loose and falling down her shoulders. When he really thinks about it, he always thought she looked nice – even after a particularly long shift when she did not look nice, he thought she did. And he knows it's a boring word, he's been told it's a crappy compliment, but he wasn't great with words so his nice, well, it was equal to a magnificent.

He's a little annoyed that he's spent so long waiting for her but despite the fact she looked so nice, she seemed a little agitated and he didn't want to dig that hole any deeper. Plus, this is the first time in weeks they are working together.

After he managed to convince her to switch with Leah and after he had questioned her relentlessly about the bruise he saw, she had been avoiding him. He guesses she didn't like him prying, she was a pretty private person at the best of times, and he's been meaning to apologise to her for that. Which is something he would have done by now if she hadn't been running away from him on the hospital floor and insisting on only talking work when they had breaks together.

But now he had her all day, and she was going to have to talk to him about whatever the hell he wanted.

"Cool," she smiles a little, glancing around the nurses' station. "So, what's on today?"

"Aren't you supposed to tell me that?"

"I was late," she states with a small push to his arm, "remember?"

He smirks, "that's unlike you, was there traffic?"

She hums, "something like that." Her eyes move back around the room and settle on his, she offers him a bright smile and without even looking she snatches the tablet from his hands and switches her focus onto work. "You have a surgery at eleven," she tells him as her eyes scan the schedule, "aw! Logan Evans is getting his kidney transplant, yayy." She drags out her small celebration as her grin grows wider.

In turn, so does his – without even slight hesitation, his eyes watch hers and his smile grows when her does and … oh god, was he really in this deep already?

He really needed to get a hold on this; whatever this is.

"I know," he tells her, "I know because I got here on time and looked already." She rolls her eyes playfully as she continues to look over the tablet, "there isn't much else for today so make sure to keep an ear out for your pager in case of any incoming traumas."

She nods as he speaks, "and keep an eye on your patients, check ups and whatnot." She murmurs, "I got it."

"Great." He responds before tapping a hand on her shoulder and turning around to walk in the opposite direction; he needed a moment. She figures she best get to it; she was late after all.

It was a slow day, a ridiculously slow slow day. She was currently sat on a discarded gurney, her back against the wall of the hallway; mindlessly playing with her hair as she imagined all the things, she could be doing in this moment other than this.

And why the hell was everyone else so busy?

Now that Paul was off and she was free, everyone was too busy for breaks and mindless conversation between post-ops and scut. She hadn't seen Stephanie all morning and the only glimpse she's had of Ross is him running up and down for Shepherd – Leah had wandered up here once or twice although she had avoided Jo, she's sure Leah was just looking to have some brief interaction with Alex.

She closes her eyes for a moment, letting out a sigh of frustration. A few seconds later there's the sound of footsteps coming towards her, the rustle of a bag of chips being thrown next to her and possibly the pop of a soda can fizzling to the side of her. She takes a peek at who it is with one eye, and she's not surprised to see her attending.

"Eat," he mumbles through a mouth full of chips, "you'll need it."

She opens both eyes and doesn't hesitate to grab the chips, opening the bag and placing a few into her mouth. She crunches appreciatively and offers him a warm smile in thanks. "Why's that?" She wonders out loud, "I'm getting thin, you think?" She doesn't know why she asks … it wasn't the type of conversation she and Alex had.

It was the type of conversation she and Stephanie had when they watched Leah change into her everyday clothing – because Leah was incredibly thin and they were women and women were taught to be insecure since the moment they were born.

"No!" He blurts out fast, "I mean, unless … you're trying, I mean you are yanno'" he stutters over his words, unsure of himself. After a couple of seconds of moaning and grumbling he gives up, "what am I supposed to say here?"

Giggling, Jo raised her leg off the gurney to lightly kick Alex in the side of his thigh. "Shut up, you dork." He grumbles in response, "so, why do I need these chips?"

"We have a three-hour surgery at eleven," he tells her still crunching his chips, "meaning you'll miss lunch and the last time we did that you got a little lightheaded … remember?"

"Oh, yeah …" she nods slowly recalling the event.

He was sweet, so she thought anyway.

She was probably the only intern that thought so. Stephanie still thought working with him was practically hell on earth and Shane, as cocky as he was, was incredibly scared of him. But she thinks she sees a softer side; the side that buys her chips because he doesn't want her to feel lightheaded and the kind who checks in on her on her days off just to see if she had caught up on sleep

"Wait!" She smiles brightly and sits up straight, forgetting about his thoughtfulness and thinking about what he just said. "I'm scrubbing in?"

He smiles; he doesn't get it – he doesn't get why his stomach does a little flip when she gets excited or why the thought of telling her about this surgery got him excited too just because he knew how she would react. Sure, he's liked girls before … been in love with one or two but he told himself not this one.

Not the one who was married. Not the one who proudly wore her wedding ring and mentioned it whenever she possibly could. Not the one whose husband was a complete jerk. Not the one he could see himself being great friends with.

Not this one.

But every time he sees her it absorbs him; she's what he spends his free time thinking about and she's what makes him slightly less grouchy during the workday. And it was completely pointless because she's married, and she's not interested and he's going to need to move on.

He tried with Leah … he thought he just needed to get laid but clearly, and he can see now, there's a much bigger hole that needs to be filled.

"Yeah …" He watches as she finishes off her chips, "if you can handle it?" It's rhetorical but he can see by the furrow of her eyebrows that she didn't take it like that.

"Alex," she drawls his name, and it does something to him but she's saying it with a little anger, and he knows this isn't the time or the place of the person. "If your saying this or doing this for that matter just because of what happened the other week then don't. It's fine and I'm fine."

He begins to protest, "this is –"

"Look," she lifts her scrub top and her undershirt, and he quietly gasps like some teenage boy who's never seen woman's bare skin before. She only lifts it slightly, just enough to show him the area in which had been decorated in purple and blue blotches weeks earlier. Her skin is tan, and it looks soft and silky and he must stop his hands from involuntarily moving to graze that exact spot

"All fine, I'm not fragile and I'm not going to' break like some porcelain doll and even –"

Alex moves his hand to her knee, which she hadn't realised had been bouncing slowly. He does it to stop her from ranting or stop her leg from bouncing, just to get her to stop because that's not how he thinks of her. Not at all … he just, well, he just cared.

"I don't think that," he tells her softly but confidently as her eyes lower to look at where his hand now rested. The large hand covers her knee as his thumb moves up and down slightly in a comforting manner, her breath stills and it's all she can focus on. "I think your strong and your good – your good at your job, one of the most competent interns here."

She hears his words and she's grateful, but she can still feel his fingers on her, and she should not be this affected by a man's touch who was not her husband. Suddenly, she's back in that supply closet and feeling his hands softly graze her skin like no man ever has before.

Fuck, she has a thing for him.

She has a thing for him and she's pretty sure he has a thing for her; if the way he looked at her and touched her was any indication … no – no no no no no, she was being stupid … no.

He was just being nice, and she's been so deprived of anything nice that she thinks that means he likes her, how pathetic is that. She's not used to such decency from a male that she believes they want her. He knows she's married, and she knows he's the good guy and she knows he is not interested.

She's married … she's married … she's married, she tells herself again and again.

Paul would kill her.

He would really kill her this time.

"Thank you." She smiles, her soft hand moving to rest above the one on her knee and he smiles back.

"If you need to hear how good you are," he murmurs, "you know I'm free to tell you anytime."

And she believes him; she believes he would be there at any time.

It's nice.

And nice was good, in fact, it was fantastic.

She liked nice … she needed nice.