Here's the next chapter, I hope you like it. Thank you for all of your reviews! As always, thank you to Jess.. without your help this fic probably wouldn't even be written, let alone be decent:)

Jack walked quickly through the parking garage, heading for his black SUV. He was wearing only his scrubs, with his jacket in hand and a backpack over his shoulder. The surgery on the little boy had gone perfectly, as usual. But just as he was getting ready to leave the hospital, the attending in the ER had called and said they had two gunshot wounds that they were prepping for surgery. Jack had rushed back in to the operating room and had performed both surgeries on auto-pilot - two more successful surgeries to add to his repertoire. But at the moment, Jack was simply focused on going home, taking a hot shower, and crawling into bed for the rest of the day.

As Jack got closer to his parking space, he looked up and noticed something taped to his window. He couldn't make it out at first, but as he got closer, he realized it was a sealed envelope with a 'J' on it. He squinted at it before he picked it up, wondering who it could be from. Who would he know that would leave a message taped to his window instead of just calling him? He lifted the envelope off the window, turned it over, and ran his thumb under the flap across the top. Inside was a piece of notebook paper with scribbled writing on it:

"Though we said goodbye

When the moon was high

Does your heart beat for me?

I wonder if I still linger

In your memory...

When you hear my name

Is the thrill the same

As it once used to be?

When you're lonesome, my sweetheart

Does your heart beat for me?"

Kate. It had to be. Who else would leave him that kind of note?

His mind was spinning as he stuffed the sheet back into the envelope and unlocked his car. He got in and just sat, his eyes closed. He hadn't heard from Kate in six months, and suddenly, on a random afternoon, she leaves a note on his car? What was he supposed to do? Communicate with her through notes left on the windshield? Sighing, he turned the ignition and slowly backed out of his parking space.

By the time Jack got back to his house, he had thought of only two feasible options to the circumstances placed before him. Either he would wait by his car until Kate showed up, or he would leave her a note back. He preferred the first – he had been waiting to see her for so long, and while the note was an unexpected surprise, he wanted to talk to her face-to-face. But he knew that she was probably hiding, watching for when there were minimal people – and no security officers or policemen – around. So he figured his best option was to leave her a note back. He had to find the perfect thing to say though – he knew that one wrong word could send her back into hiding and ruin his chances forever, or it could turn out to be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

His mind still reeling from the situation, Jack took a quick shower, made something for him to eat, and sat down to watch some television and try to clear his mind. Two hours later, he was still in the same position, staring out into space. Although the television was on, he hadn't heard a single word they said. He was too busy racking his brain for something to write in his note to Kate. He didn't want to sound too corny or cheesy, but he wanted to relieve her doubts. Of course he still thought about her, wanted to talk to her, and missed her – his feelings for her consumed his entire being. He had never felt like this about anyone before, even Sarah, and it scared him. He had to make her understand that without scaring her off; his relationship with Kate was always very delicate and he didn't want to mess it up because it might be his only chance.

Knowing that he couldn't think of the answer that night, when he had to be up for another 12-hour shift in 7 hours, he went upstairs and got into his bed. Turning off the light and rolling on his side, he stared into the darkness, thinking of Kate and her beautiful face, before he finally drifted off to sleep.

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The next morning, Jack woke up before his alarm even went off. He had slept fitfully – his slumber was filled with dreams of Kate and different scenarios that always ended with her running away from him, never to be seen again. Jack sighed as he sat up, rubbing his eyes and trying to clear his head. He had wanted to leave Kate a note today, to guarantee that she wouldn't think he didn't care or something of the sort. However, he still hadn't been able to think of anything to write back. How could he put into words how much he cared about her, how he thought of her constantly? In the words of his father, he was a doctor, not a writer. So he figured he should find lyrics to use, just as Kate had. They would certainly be more eloquent that something he could say – after all, songwriters got paid to write that kind of stuff, right?

After showering and getting dressed, he grabbed his iPod before he left; knowing that while he was doing his paperwork for the day, he could put the songs on shuffle, in hopes of finding something good enough for his note to Kate.

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Rubbing his forehead, Jack squinted as he tried to decipher his own handwriting on a patient's chart. It was true what they said about doctors having horrible handwriting, but it usually didn't bother him. But today, his mind was preoccupied, and it made his mind fuzzy and his thoughts unclear. He looked up from the chart, and seeing it was already dark out, decided to pack up his work and head home. He wasn't getting any work done here – his thoughts drifted to Kate, the island, Sarah – so he might as well give up for the night and try again tomorrow.

Jack stood up, his iPod's headphones still in his ears, playing "Poprocks and Coke" by Green Day, and began shuffling his papers, trying to get them into some sort of order. He grabbed his leather briefcase and started shoving them into any space they would fit into. For a surgeon, he was surprisingly untidy – a trait that was reflected in the papers, pens, and other various items strewn across his desk. He shut the case and was grabbing his jacket as the first few notes of a familiar song began playing. He stopped, listening to the song – he couldn't place the title or singer, but he recognized the tune. As the song kept playing, he dropped his briefcase and jacket and walked back to his desk. He turned his computer back on, and opening up his browser, he typed in the lyrics he was looking for. Within seconds, the whole song popped up, and he pressed 'print'. Smiling to himself, he quickly folded the papers and stuffed them in his jacket pocket as he picked up his briefcase and walked out of his office, locking the door behind him. As he walked to the parking lot, his smile only got wider as he remembered the lyrics.

He had found the perfect thing to say to Kate, to make her stop running.