First chapter = disclaimers

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Ellen froze when she heard Steve's voice on the other end. This was the moment she had both looked for and dreaded. What should she say? How should she say it? Should she wait until he said something first?

Unfortunately for her, Steve was having the exact same argument with himself on the other end of the phone line. From the kitchen, his father asked who was calling. Shocked into responding, Steve blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "Can I ask why you're calling?"

Ellen paused at the question. Was that a normal question, or was he showing impatience that she had called?

"Your father asked me to get some information for him. I'm just calling to update him on what's going on."

"He what? I, mean, I'll get him for you."

Ellen sighed as she heard Steve rest the receiver down on the table that the phone was situated on. The last comment was most definitely angry. Thankfully, it seemed Steve was upset with his father and not her, but it did appear that she was ultimately the source of the irritation. Not good, but not as bad as it could have been.

Ellen heard voices in the background as Steve told his father who was on the phone. From the tone of the conversation, she figured she should keep the phone call short so that Steve could argue with his father.

"Ellen, hi," Mark's voice was suddenly on the other end of the phone line.

"Hi, Mark. I'm just calling to give you a little update. Is everything okay with Steve? He sounded upset."

"When doesn't he sound upset?" Mark replied.

"When you aren't meddling in his affairs."

"Which is precisely never, a father's work is never done. Now, if only I could convince Steve of that."

"I think maybe I'll leave you two to figure that one out. I'm not sure I'm in a position to offer advice. I do however, have a lead. I got a mysterious phone number from Dr. Tremble's pocket. I'm not sure if it will lead to anything, but I've been trouble tracking down the owner. That has to count for something."

"Really? That's great Ellen. Say, why don't you give me a call back later. I think that Steve wants a few words with me."

"I understand completely. Goodbye Mark."

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Steve watched impassively as his father walked into the living room. His arms were crossed and his face was set in his best 'hard-nosed-cop' look.

Mark sighed, "Look, Steve, this isn't what you think."

"It isn't?"

"Well, it is, but you're just being stubborn. Tell me you weren't glad she called."

"That isn't the point. The point is that you tricked me and her. She didn't call for me, Dad, she called for you. That's hardly promising."

"Oh, you can't be that blind. Steve, that woman is nearly as stubborn as you are. Do you think she would have helped me out on something so trivial unless she had an ulterior motive? She wants to talk to you. I'm just an excuse."

"I don't think I believe you."

"For pity's sake Steve, try being open minded."

"Open minded! Dad she left me."

"And you let her go."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. I know you. You go after what you want. The two of you made a mess out what should have been a very simple solution. With your combined your non-communication and your un-trustingness and your stubbornness and your insane need to do things yourselves… Steve I don't know what to say. I see my son, and he's miserable. Do you think as a father that I want to see you unhappy?"

"No, but I'm just not sure you're on the right track."

"I am. I didn't think so until the months started to go by, but after a while, you didn't bounce back. And from the sounds of things, neither has Ellen."

"Okay, say that all of your arguments about the entire situation are true. This isn't exactly a fixable situation."

"I don't have all the answers, Steve. Nobody does. But, I do know where to start. Talk to her, send her a note. Then go from there."

"I don't know, Dad. What if it doesn't work out?"

"I'll pay for the postage and the phone calls."

"Throw in cooking dinner tonight, and you have a deal."

"I was going to cook dinner anyway."

"And I was just making sure."

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Ellen fairly floated into the café the next morning.

"What's gotten into you?" Carol asked when Ellen almost missed the chair she was sitting down into.

"What?" Ellen replied, distracted.

Carol raised one eyebrow, "Mr. Wonderful?"

Ellen nodded, "I called his father last night, and he answered the phone. Then he called back a little while later."

"The father or the son?"

"Carol!"

"I thought journalists were supposed to keep things simple for their readers. You're using too many pronouns."

"Fine, the son called back. We talked and we agreed that we might both have overreacted to my being offered a job in Chicago."

"And?"

"And, that's it. He isn't exactly a fast mover, Carol. Besides, we need to make sure we're doing the right thing in re-establishing our relationship."

"Right thing? Ellen he could be shot dead by the time you two think you're doing the right thing."

"What did you say?" Ellen glanced up with a small crease between her eyebrows.

Carol, being the daughter of Mark Sloan, realized her slip and thought quickly, "I said he could be shot dead. You know, like saying something bad could happen only with more shock value."

"Oh, it's just that he does have a dangerous job…" Ellen trailed off not quite sure that she believed Carol's explanation, but not having any reason to doubt her.

"Ellen, I'm not psychic. I wasn't foretelling bad things."

"I know. It's just that I have a small problem."

"And that is?"

"I have to go to California next week."

"And this is bad how?"

"I'm going with Dr. Tremble. He called during the small break between phone calls last night. I just thought it would be a good way to investigate him more."

"And Mr. Perfect tends to jump to incorrect conclusions when it comes to you and your reporting?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Wild guess. Look, just call and tell him the truth."

"Oh, that will work. You don't know him."

"I think I do. He's--ounds like a great guy Ellen. He'll understand if you explain it to him correctly."

"What would correctly be?"

"Tell him you're investigating someone. Then tell him that you're pretending to be the guy's girlfriend. Then tell Mr. Perfect that you're going to California. He won't like it, but he won't think you're pseudo cheating on him."

"In other words, don't tell him I'm coming to California with another guy first?"

"Yes."

"Well, okay then. You know, that might just work. Are you sure you're not psychic? Because you sound like you almost know him."

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Jesse Travis heard blood pounding in his ears as he crept around the hallways of Community General. Both Steve and Mark were looking for him. The nurse he had spoken to said that it wasn't anything medical. Which meant it was personal, and Jesse did not want to discuss anything personal with any Sloan at any time for the next fifty years.

"Jesse!' Mark's voice sounded directly behind him.

With the sigh of the martyred, Jesse turned around to face two Sloans. "Hi, guys."

"Relax, Jess. I know what Dad's been up to."

"Yes, yes he does," Mark continued for his son, "What I'd like to know is why you knew."

"I, ah, overheard you plotting on the phone the other night. I, uh, got to your house early."

"I wouldn't call it plotting…" Mark sounded slightly hurt.

"Yeah, well I would," Steve said.

"So, you two aren't mad at me?"

"No, but next time Dad interferes with my life, tell me, okay?"

"And the next time you overhear a conversation tell me about it." Mark admonished.

"Sure guys, sure," Jesse smiled a weak yet relieved smile.

"Oh, and Jesse, don't help anyone interfere with my personal business again. Even if it is my father." Steve tossed back over his shoulder as he walked away.

Jesse nodded automatically, "Sure," he croaked out.

Wearily he leaned up against the hospital wall. He was in way over his head.