This party sucks.

Alex had decided that the exact minute he arrived, when he was forced to arrange tiny little sandwiches on Meredith's fancy china in the kitchen. He supposes he wouldn't have minded so much if the food weren't so miniature, it was a party for grown adults and the food selection was ridiculous, Alex had thought. Any kind of food that he can hold with just his pinkie figure was not the type of food he wanted.

He would have preferred if Shepherd put him on kid duty. That was natural to him, he was used to kids – he liked them, and they liked him. What he did not like was fancy food that he knows won't fill him up. He wasn't even allowed to touch the beer until at least one guest had arrived.

At least he was able to ditch the chores for a few minutes to take Zola up to bed, she'd specifically asked for Uncle Alex which meant Shepherd wasn't able to argue his way out of this one.

It got a little better when Jackson arrived but with Jackson came his new intern girlfriend and with Jackson's new intern girlfriend he was reminded of the other intern, the one who hung around with Jackson's intern. The one he hadn't been able to stop thinking about for weeks.

The very intern who he was trying to forget about tonight because she'd be at home playing happy family with her husband he'd be here; single and drinking with all his friends who were all seemingly in happy relationships.

And it had been working when he was moaning about the food and teasing Zola and when he was finally being allowed to crack open his first beer. It had been working until those two showed up.

But then it gets worse.

Meredith had told him it was dark blue scrubs only but now there were multiple interns and suddenly his intern was stepping through the front door and handing her coat over to Derek, husband in tow.

Alex is slouched on the couch, talking football with Owen, when they walk in. Their hands are entwined, and it reminds him of when her hand had slipped into his hand just hours earlier. And it makes him feel nauseous because she's not his intern, she's Stadler's intern. He probably shouldn't think like that he scolds himself; she'd be unhappy with him if she knew.

He watches as her eyes scan the room, she looks awkward and out of place and as if she's waiting for her husbands next move so she can follow suit. Her eyes finally land on him, and he can only blame her bright smile for the sudden backflips happening in his stomach. Oh god, he's turning soft.

Jo doesn't make any movement to come and speak with him and he can't say he isn't surprised. Whenever he spotted the wife with her husband, she kept her distance from him. He chalks it up to the fact that he and Stadler didn't quite see eye to eye, but he couldn't shake this feeling in the pit of his stomach that it was something more.

She seemed smaller around him; she cowered behind his tall figure and she barely spoke up. Even now, when Jackson's intern had practically run from the other side of the house towards Jo, after her third glass of wine, and started yapping her mouth nonstop. Jo just stood there, with her first glass, nodding and smiling like she had no idea what the other woman was saying.

It was odd – half the time he had to force Jo to shut the hell up.

He liked that Jo better; the one who ranted and raved and looked like she had more emotion than a plank of wood.

She's at his side the entire night, and it agitates him. He's still nursing his second beer which he picked up hours ago, it's warm and he has no intention of drinking the remaining contents of the bottle. Although her husband seems to like it; seems to enjoy the way Jo plays dutiful wife as she stands to his right at all time an encouraging smile on her face as she laughs and nods a long to his every word.

Occasionally, she'll engage in pleasantries with someone that wasn't her husband … Meredith, Cristina, and Callie mostly. Not him – never him.

Alex is heading to the bathroom when he runs into Paul in the hallway. He'd lost sight of Jo when Meredith and Cristina had joined him on the couch and started to complain about his bad mood – he wasn't in a bad mood, he was just … having a moment. So, he hadn't realised they were no longer attached at the hip.

The older doctor is stood in the middle of the room, directly in Alex's way – it's almost poetic, he thinks. But he hasn't noticed Alex approaching as he's too busy messing around on his phone to even bother looking up.

"Hey, man." Alex mutters as he passes Paul, who finally looks up from the device, but he doesn't bother to move, and he doesn't bother to reply. Paul grunts and quickly returns his attention back to his phone. Another reason why he couldn't stand the guy; he was rude.

Minutes later when he exits the bathroom, Stadler is gone but in his place is the small child who he thought he had tucked up in bed hours and hours ago. He approaches her, a cheeky yet knowing smile on her chubby cheeks. Leaning down, he frowns pretending to be unhappy with the small girl. "Now what are you doing out here, huh?"

"Mommy."

"You want your mommy?" He asks and the little girl nods instantly, her smile growing wider. "Come on, munchkin." He opens his arms, and she clambers in, holding her tight he slowly stood up and made his way downstairs to get Meredith.

But that's when he hears it, or rather, hears her.

She sounds upset but her raspy voice is distinct, "you're leaving me here!?" It's coming from the bottom of the stairwell and he can just about make out her figure cowering under one much taller. It was her husbands, obviously. He wanted to roll his eyes.

"They paged me, so they need me." He emphasizes the 'me' with his usual flair of arrogance.

"Paul," she sounds exasperated, "I told you that being here makes me uncomfortable. These people don't like me, they're putting up with me because they want you here." Not true, Alex thinks silently.

He doesn't want to be that person who listens in on a private conversation but what choice did he have, he couldn't walk down now as things got more intense. It was awkward … he felt awkward and they didn't even know he was there.

Paul scoffs, "I thought you'd enjoy it, all these men looking at you. Don't think I didn't notice the way you were gazing at Ka –"

"Stop!" She shouts but quickly composes herself and moves closer to him, "don't do that. It's not about that … you're leaving me in the middle of nowhere, how am I supposed to get home?"

Alex watches as Paul shrugs on his coat and laughs mockingly at his young wife, it made his skin crawl. "Don't be so fucking stupid," he snaps with a groan as he rubs his temples. Jo flinches back slightly, making Alex frown. "I can't deal with this; I can't deal with you acting like a child. Why is it years later I am still forced to take care of you – I can't even put my career first because you are always right behind me nagging and manipulating me."

He can't make out her face but her head lowers, he wishes he couldn't feel the tension of the room. "I'm sorry."

"You're not some homeless unwanted brat anymore, Jo." She makes a move to step back again, but she's stopped when his hand latches onto her upper arm with a tight grip. "But keep acting this way," he pulls her closer harshly as if she was some rag doll, and Alex has to use all of his willpower to not run down there – not when Zola was now fast asleep in his arms. "And you might be." Paul adds at the end and he barely catches it but he's sure; he's certain.

With his final words dripping in the air, Paul turns on his feet and makes his way out of the door and towards his car. Jo's feet stay firmly planted on the floor and he's unsure of what to do next – he wanted to comfort her and make sure she was OK and he wanted to check her arm and he also wanted to run after the jerk.

Suddenly, Meredith is bursting into the hallway and she glances at Jo momentarily but then (almost like she could sense him) her eyes fly up to the top of the stairwell and she spots him. "Alex!?" She shouts, causing Jo's eyes to snap up in his direction. He can't help but notice they're glassy and sad and hurt and embarrassed. "Why is she not in bed!?" Meredith asks, stomping up the stairs.

Jo is right behind her but he doesn't get to see where she goes because Meredith is scolding him for holding Zola instead of being down at the party and then she's dragging him back downstairs with her and he can't protest because then she'll ask why and then he'll have to explain and then Jo will be pissed. And it's all just one big mess.

Alex finds her in one of the spare bedrooms, the one which had everyone's coats and bags discarded on the bed. It took him five minutes, but he managed to worm his way out of the conversation he was having and slip past his friends without them noticing. Her back is facing towards the door and he's certain she hasn't heard him step into the room because she makes no effort to see who has joined her.

He can hear her soft sniffles and he can see subtle rise and fall of her shoulders; it causes a knot to tie in his stomach and he involuntarily gulps as he continues to stare at the back of her head with sad eyes.

Silky soft brunette curls fall down her spine, stopping just before her lower back. His eyes can't help but stop at the exposed skin where her shirt just isn't quite long enough to meet her tight skinny jeans. Tan skin clouds his mind and he's once again wondering what it would feel like to touch it but he's not here for that. He's here to see how she is feeling, comfort her if he needs to.

He approaches her slowly, clearing his throat as he reaches the bed so not to startle the small woman. He'd learnt she had a habit of getting jumpy. She turns her head towards him slightly when he sits beside her, keeping a few inches between them, but lifting an arm to stroke her bare shoulder tenderly.

"Jo –" Alex begins, but he's cut off when she furiously shakes her head and lifts her own hand to wipe away the tears that haven fallen from her eyes. He feels defeated as he watches her helplessly and he wonders how any man could leave his wife like this, let alone be the reason she is like this.

"I'm being silly," she hiccups, continuing to shake her head in an effort to convince both Alex and herself that she was overreacting.

Finally, she looks up at him and he's met with her sad and glassy eyes. Eyes filled with sorrow and hurt and embarrassment – and he wants to tell her all the reasons why she shouldn't feel this way but he's at a loss for words because she's just so … so so beautiful.

And he knows it's not great timing to be thinking like that but even with big glassy eyes and a red stuffy nose and puffy lips that match her red puffy cheeks – she looks perfect. And to him, Paul Stadler was a complete fool.

Jo attempts to plaster a fake tight-lipped smile on her face to try and fool him but he sees right through it, and not because he knows her well but just because it's far too obvious she's not OK. "I'm just being silly, Alex." Her voice is quiet and a little hoarse from crying, "you can go back to the party."

"You're not."

"No, I am. So, what? He raised his voice at me." She shrugs and begins to laugh, it's more fake than the smile she tried to show him. "It's not a big deal, couples fight, and they shout, and they get angry. I'm just emotional because I think – maybe I had too much wine."

Jo's trying to get him to leave and she trying to stop him from asking questions. But he had no intention of asking any questions, not tonight. Not when she was clearly upset and not when she's just been humiliated.

Sure, he was all kinds of pissed off. And if he hadn't been ushering Zola back to bed and if he didn't have a feeling that Jo feared her own husband then he would have burst into that room without a second thought. He never has liked the way Stadler spoken to Jo but he had avoided mentioning it due to not wanting to get involved in his interns relationship – it wasn't his place even if it did make his fists clench and his teeth grind. But tonight, a line was crossed, and he wasn't going to sit back and do nothing about it; not anymore.

"How much have you drunk?" He asks softly, his hand moving down to softly rub at her back.

Jo leans into his touch ever so slightly; she was warm, and her shirt was soft, and he could feel her breathing turn back into a steady rhythm. She flutters her eyes up to the ceiling, taking a deep breath and letting out a big huff all in one. "One glass," this time the laughter that bubbles from her lips is real and he's glad because it makes him laugh with her, "I had one glass and I felt tipsy."

His shoulders move up and down as he chuckles along with her, his eyes never once leaving her face. "I'm not surprised," he mumbles, "your tiny … I think even Zola could out drink you." They laugh for a moment longer but then her face turns solemn once again.

"Go back to the party, Alex."

"You think I'll have any fun knowing you're up here like," he thinks abut what to say for a moment, not wanting to upset her so instead he uses his free hand to gesture to her, "this."

Jo rolls her eyes and scoffs at him, using her hand to lightly shove at her torso – something she found herself doing a lot lately. "I bet I look hot, huh?" It's rhetorical because she knows she looks awful. Her face is red and puffy and she's burning up, so her head is probably a little sweaty and her nose was running only moments before he sat down beside her.

She notes that he doesn't answer and she assumes it's because he's looking for the right words to say as not to offend her but he should know by now – his brash comments don't upset her, they make her laugh and sometimes they make her blush but not upset her.

Alex didn't upset her.

They sit there for a moment or two in complete and utter silence until he breaks it, "he shouldn't have spoken to you like that." He probably shouldn't say it, but he needs to say it and she needs to hear it because he can sense her beating herself up over it.

Jo groans, "Alex –"

"Listen," he cuts her off, a little harshly but he meant it in a sort of tough-love way. "No guy, especially a husband, should speak to a woman that way. He was a jerk, and you didn't deserve that." She doesn't respond, she's just looking at him with big eyes and parted lips. "He's just lucky that I had a kid in front of me –"

"Why?" She interrupts abruptly. His eyes falling to her lips as her tongue darts out for just a moment to wet her now dry lips. She notices and he knows she notices because she leans in slightly closer to get his attention back to her. For some reason, when she moves in, he moves in and now he can feel her steady breath on his face and suddenly this is all too much.

Alex struggles to find the words as they sit like this, there's tension and there's heat and he's distracted. Distracted by lips and eyes and rosy cheeks and pale freckles. "Because … because – I care about you." It's poor but it's true.

"Why?" She repeats.

And this makes him frown, "why wouldn't I?"

This answer doesn't satisfy her, he watches as her lips twist again to form the same word he's just s tired of hearing. "You're my friend …" he speaks before she can, gulping nervously. "You make corny jokes and you put up with my crap and you know what I want before I even ask and you see the silver lining in everything … and – and – and I like you –"

She cuts him off when she leans in, her forehead resting against his. They close their eyes. Both letting out shaky breaths of air, neither of them moves for a moment before Jo gently closes the small space left in between them and kisses Alex's plump lips. It's tender and slow and doesn't parallel their current states of want and tension.

They pull apart and take shaky, shallow breaths. But unable to contain himself anymore, Alex places his large hands on either side of Jo's head and pulls her into a fierier and more passionate kiss. Her hands work their way around his body, feeling each crevasse underneath his t-shirt as her hands grab at the material and attempt to pull him even closer.

When he kissed her, it was as if the world fell away. It was needy and fast, comforting in ways that it shouldn't have been. His hand rested below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek as he continued to move his mouth against hers. She ran her fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel the beating of his heart against her chest.

It's something he's wanted to do for a long time and it's something she didn't realise how desperate she really wanted to happen. He thought she didn't want him, not like this. He's imagined what it would like to kiss her (a lot) but never in a million years did he believe that she would be the one to lean in first – that she would be the one to initiate anything. But he liked that she did, he really liked it. It was hot.

Their mouths move perfectly in sync; his hands move from her face to her neck and slowly, as if he were savouring the feeling of his hands on her body, they glide down her back. And he's about to start manoeuvring them so she'll be flat on her back and he'll be hovering over her and they'll be more comfortable.

But she stops him by placing a hand to his chest and pushing back softly, at this their lips part but neither makes any effort to inch away from the other although their breathing was heavy. Revelling in each other's warmth and the odd comfortableness of the situation. His fingers instinctively move to stroke a stray curl behind her ear and then caress her reddened cheek.

"I'm sorry." She whispers.

"Don't."

"But I am!" She speaks up, turning away from him and sitting up straighter and he wants to curse he out for ruining their moment. Because, personally, he thought it was a really good moment. "Because you like me, and I just kissed you!" Jo almost shouts, forgetting where she was and that there are multiple people downstairs who not only know she's married but also work with her husband.

She was such an idiot, she thought.

What if someone had walked in … what would she have done if someone had seen them. Seen her cheating on her husband who had only just left the house minutes ago. She was getting sloppy and she wants to blame Alex, but she knows it's all her – she used to be so so careful, she had to learn to be careful.

But she liked it, oh god, she liked it so much. The feeling of Alex so close to her, his mouth on hers and his hands caressing her face and her neck and her waist. And he's ruining it, he always ruins things – could she blame him, though. He was her husband.

This was her biggest problem; she always did this. She argued with herself. She wants this but she shouldn't want this, and she doesn't want to give a crap about Paul because god knows he does not give a crap about her but … she does. She cares about him and it's twisted, and it doesn't make sense but not even she can explain the constant battle that goes on in her brain.

Alex shakes his head in protest, "it's not like I didn't want it."

"But it's unfair," she groans in aggravation. "It's unfair to you and it's unfair to my husband." Alex doesn't answer, he understands where she's coming from and whilst he was running on the high of finally getting to kiss her, she was already feeling the regret of making a mistake. It stung but he gets it, unfortunately … he gets it. "You like me." She adds as a statement, turning her head to look at him directly in the eye once again – as if she were challenging him.

He nods in confirmation, but it only serves to make her feel worse.

"You need a ride home?"

"Yes," her voice is small, "please."