AN: lol, I just read your reviews. I didn't mean to leave you all hanging. I just couldn't decide what to write next. There's too many possibilities…should he stay in a coma, should they switch bodies, should he stay in Rory's head, blah blah! I was thinking of doing alternate endings but…I'm too lazy.

JoYous: Billy Joel wrote the song, and both he and Frank sang their versions. I had to look it up on the web! It's hard to find that kind of info!

***

Rory was relieved to find Tristan's lips kissing back. She pulled away to look at him. Slowly he opened his eyes, blinking at the brightness of the room.

"Rory?" he asked huskily.

"Hey, there. I was so worried that it wouldn't work-" Rory started saying.

"What are you doing here?" Tristan interrupted.

"You don't remember?" Rory asked in confusion.

"Remember what? The last thing I remember is being in your jeep."

"Oh." She looked him in the eyes to see whether he was kidding. "You mean, you don't remember the whole…never mind."

She rolled off the bed and straightened out her clothes.

"Am I missing something? Why were you on my bed? Did you kiss me just now?"

"What? No, you must have dreamt it. Oh, I, uh, came to visit you, and, uh…um. I've got to go. I've got to get home. Um. I'm just going to get the doctor to come in and check on you."

Rory quickly marched out of the room and leaned heavily against the corridor wall. She couldn't decide whether this was a good thing or not. She gave out a muffled yell and ran her hands through her hair in frustration. A nurse popped her head around the corner.

"You alright there, love?" she asked.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm okay. The patient in that room just woke up though. You might want to find the doctor," Rory said.

The nurse rushed past her and into Tristan's room.

Rory made her way to the ladies room. Finally.

***

"Hey, Rory. Good news!" Tristan said as she came into his room the next morning. He was siting up in bed, eating breakfast with his good arm.

"Really? What?" Rory asked with false enthusiasm.

"They're moving me out of ICU."

"To where? The children's ward?" she quipped, her humour returning.

"Haha!" he said, not laughing. He eyed the bright pink box Rory was carrying. "What's in there?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Hence, I asked."

"I brought you a cake."

"Chocolate?"

"Of course," she said with a smile. "I got it from a cake store nearby."

She took his tray away and replaced it with the box.

"The one with the cat statue in the window?" Tristan asked.

"That's the store. You know it?" she asked nonchalantly, opening the box.

"One of my favourites. Did you bring any-"

Rory took a container of cream out of her bag.

"You read my mind," Tristan said.

Rory smiled at the irony of it all.

***

A week later, Rory was pushing Tristan's wheelchair into the elevator. He was being released from the hospital and was free to go.

Tristan waited for the doors to open on the ground floor before pressing all the buttons on the panel. The ones he could reach from his wheelchair, anyway.

He turned around in his chair to look at Rory's reaction.

To his surprise, Rory was smiling down at him. She leaned over his shoulders and pressed the remaining buttons before proceeding out of the elevator.

"You've changed Rory," Tristan noted.

"I know," she said.

"You're more mischievous than you used to be. More smart-assed, too. More…I don't know, I can't place it, but you remind me of someone," Tristan said, burrowing his eyebrows in concentration.

"Someone like…yourself, perhaps?" Rory suggested.

"Exactly!" said Tristan, snapping his fingers. "Hey, how come you're looking after me, all of a sudden? I thought you didn't like me."

"Well, after all that's happened, it's the least I could do," Rory said, signalling a cab driver.

"You mean the car crash? You don't blame yourself, do you?" Tristan asked.

Rory didn't answer, but smiled to herself as she opened the back door of the cab and helped Tristan in with the aid of the driver. It wasn't what she was referring to.

"So, when does all this plaster come off?" Rory asked, slapping his leg cast.

"Two months."

"It must be itchy under there," Rory said.

"Well, now that you mention it, yeah!" said Tristan, trying to scratch at his elbow, but unsuccessfully. "Why'd you have to say that for?"

"Just a little pay back," said Rory, staring out of the window.

"For what?"

"For the past two years."

"Oh, okay. Is my debt payed off yet?"

"You've got to be kidding! I'm only just starting!" She reached over and pinched his good arm.

"Hey! Ow! What the?" Tristan started rubbing the small red spot. "Pinching is bad. I would never pinch you!"

Rory bit back the urge to shake him and yell, "But you did! You did! You just don't remember, you fool!"

Instead she pinched him again.

"Hey!" he protested.

"What?" Rory said innocently. "Now that I know that you'll never pinch me, I don't have to worry about payback."

"You're mean!"

"Another trait I got from you."

"You're getting annoying."

"Refer to my previous statement, please!"

The driver laughed from his seat.

"You kids! You should get your own show. You have great chemistry."

Tristan expected Rory to be cringing in disgust at this thought. Instead, she put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"I think he's starting to grow on me," she said to the driver.

***