Disclaimer: Nothing's mine.

A/N: The choice of song at the end of this chapter is entirely due to fayevalcntine's influence for which I'm eternally grateful :) Thanks to all those who are still around and reading :)

'And then we do the splits for another ten minutes. The other girls are having practice right now getting ready for the audition and what am I doing? I'm losing my time here,' the girl sighed dramatically, looking around the ER for emphasis.

Jess took the girl's foot silently and moved it in the ankle joint.

The girl's lips pressed in a thin white line.

Jess arched an eyebrow, repeating the move, watching her face for a reaction. She flinched when he reached a 90 degree angle.

'You're wasting your time, I'm fine,' the girl groaned with a strained voice.

Jess flexed her toes and she grimaced.

'Are you some kind of sadist or what?' she spat, her hands balling into fists by her skinny frame.

Jess turned towards the girl's chart and assigned an X-ray, then gave the chart to the awaiting Helen.

'Are you always that silent or is it just me boring you?' the girl asked.

'Yes,' Jess muttered noncommittally.

She rolled her eyes.

'Look, I'm sure you've got a lot of other work to do, can't we tell my mom I'm fine so I can get back to practice and rock that audition?'

'Come on, little miss,' Helen said taking the girl's hand to help her into a wheelchair.

'My name is Tiffany,' the girl cut in.

'Okay, Tiffany,' Helen stressed. 'Let's get a picture of this award-winning ankle of yours.'

'No practice today?'

'No practice today,' the nurse patted Tiffany's shoulder sympathetically.

Tristan put the X-ray up against the light and studied it for a while.

'I think a couple weeks of physiotherapy should make it all right.'

'I don't think she'll be happy to hear it,' Jess crossed his arms behind his head, stretching with a wary sigh.

'Since when do you care what makes your patients happy?' Tristan arched an eyebrow.

'Since they're ten-year-old prima wannabes with uncontrollable chattering tendencies.'

'You're a natural with children, you're gonna find just the right words,' Tristan chuckled with a wicked smile.

'My elephant grace is their undoing,' Jess muttered.

'We're gathering for drinks at Neil's after work Thursday night,' Tristan said taking his charts. 'Helen's got birthday, I'm big on surprises. You know, with Rory's birthday party being such a blast.'

Jess narrowed his eyes, thinking how much actual intel Tristan had on that night. Their eyes met and Tristan's look was incredulous.

'You coming or what?' he asked, his smile confused.

Jess smacked his head mentally.

'Sure.'

'You seen Aiden?' Tristan asked Rory as he approached her at the nurses station.

'Wasn't he drawing in the breakroom?' Rory looked up from the chart she'd been filling in.

'Yeah, but that was like an hour ago. I got called in for a consult and had to leave.'

Tristan fished his mobile out of his scrubs' pocket and started dialing when Rory nudged his elbow. He looked up questioningly and when he traced her amused look, saw she was pointing at Aiden. He was sitting in a chair in Tiffany's room, watching her as she went through his drawings.

'Wha...' Tristan had stopped with his hand holding the mobile midair, watching dumbfound as his son's cheeks turned pink when he smiled shyly at something the girl said.

'I think somebody has a crush,' Rory smiled knowingly.

'But...'

Rory watched amused as the very one and only Tristan Dugray was for once rendered speechless.

'Is he good?' Rory asked, referring to Aiden's drawings.

'He never shows me those drawings,' Tristan mumbled, still in shock, rubbing his neck in confusion. 'He... he spends hours drawing and he won't show me but now... whoa.'

Tristan looked like a lost puppy.

'But he's so young. He thinks girls are gross.'

Rory leaned an elbow over the nurses station counter and her smile grew even wider.

'You're such a parent,' she smirked.

'Evil mommy emergency,' Paris whispered behind Rory, approaching her at the nurses station.

Rory turned back, arching an eyebrow questioningly.

'Vegan mommy's dad is getting his gallbladder removed today,' Paris elaborated. 'She met me in the elevator giving me shit about missing the last recital in the kindergarten. There had been also a bio product handmade cookie exhibition I subsequently missed and am officially in their black list. She even had the nerve to ask if my motorcycling boyfriend works here too. My estimation of her itsy-bitsy brain was underdone. She looked suspicious. Rory, I think that she knows.'

'Easy, Justin.'

Paris paused to take a breath and rose a point finger in Rory's direction.

'Don't easy me. It's your fault I ended up with a fake mommy whispering boyfriend in the first place. Now they can just go about seeing my supposedly enamored boyfriend flirting unashamedly with the whole skank-prone subset of the nurse population.'

'Tristan was here minutes ago. We can call him, tell him to keep a low profile and show up at some point to declare his undying love et cetera. Piece of cake.'

'Already called, he's in surgery. You know what, screw them. If they know, they know. Being mean is all they know so if they give me shit I'll just backfire.'

Rory rose an eyebrow, looking at her best friend giving herself the pep talk.

'We're gathering at Neil's for Helen's birthday. Tomorrow she's working until five p.m. so we're meeting up after that.'

Paris massaged her temples.

'Yeah, okay. I'm coming out of 24-hour shift tomorrow morning, so I make no promises but I'll talk to the nanny and try to come by. If you meet Dugray...'

'I'll make sure to tell him his Schmoopy Woopy is looking for him,' Rory gave her a wink.

'Dr Geller, code blue in ninth.'

Paris sat up into the break room couch rubbing her eyes and rolled her shoulders, trying to chase the sleep away. Waking up in the middle of a night shift nap was a tough task but with practice alertness came in less than a minute. Paris rose to her feet and threw her white coat on, grabbing her stethoscope and mobile from the table on her way out.

'Sixty-two year old male, crashed after cholecystectomy.'

'Which postoperative hour?'

'The surgery was this morning.'

'Call to check for a free OP, we're probably going in for a revision.'

It had been such a nice slow night shift. Ah, it always was. Right until someone started crashing and needed to be reoperated on.

'Good job, Half-Pint,' Tristan gave her a wink as they came out of the OR. 'About Helen's birthday party tonight...'

'Rory told me, I'm talking to the nanny but she's been full on for the last twenty four so don't look forward to this conversation.'

'I'm bringing Aiden. I'm beat after the twenty-four shift so I thought I would call in early anyway. If you're up to it, I can take you and Josh and then we leave at eight-eight thirty tops. What do you think?'

'I think sometimes you're not such a complete pain in the ass.'

'Well you always are but we appreciate your redeeming qualities,' he ruffled her short hair, taking a precautionary step to the side as Paris expectedly swatted his arm.

'I'll call as we start towards your place,' he gave her a last wink before he left for the lockers room, stretching his arms behind his neck.

Someone cleared their throat behind Paris. She turned to find Vegan Mom who was now facing her after probably adoring Tristan's back for a while.

'Hey,' the young woman stepped from foot to foot. She looked uncharacteristically uneasy. And underslept. Just like Paris.

'Hey.'

'I wanted to say thank you. For saving my dad.'

Paris narrowed her eyes, not really following. She was switching into hibernation mode any minute now. It had been a long surgery.

The other woman must have seen the confusion on Paris' face, because she elaborated.

'The man you had to operate on in there, that's my father.'

'Oh.'

'I...' the woman tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 'I owe you an apology.'

Paris looked around, thinking she had probably dozed off and was dreaming. She blinked, taking in her surroundings. Everything seemed normal. Another busy morning at St Morrison's. Hospital staff walking. Patients limping. The twenty four hour shift had to be wearing on her.

'All this time we picked on you for working too much but if you didn't do what you do, my father wouldn't be getting better right now. We were lucky to have you on your night shift.'

Paris stood silent, for once not really having anything to say. Maybe a simple 'you're welcome' would do. But she wasn't really up for pleasantries, she was beat and she wanted to get some sleep.

'You're cute together,' the other woman continued.

What?.

The woman nodded in the direction in which Tristan had left.

'I actually had doubts you were an item with the blond hottie but you make a nice team and he totally adores you.'

Paris blinked apprehensively, this time sure she was having some sappy unrealistic dream. When the other woman didn't disappear, Paris simply gave her a nod and left for the lockers room, deciding it was high time she got home.

'Let me tell you a secret,' Jess whispered, leaning towards Aiden conspiratorially. They were sitting on a table at Neil's, watching as Helen was animatedly talking to Tiffany at the bar where they were served alcohol-free margaritas (whatever that meant).

'If she likes you, all she'll care about is you had the bravery to ask her.'

Aiden scrunched his nose, finding it hard to believe.

'You sure?'

'Positive.'

'How do you know?'

'Because I'm a terrible dancer,' he said and stood up. And also because Helen had a ten-year old invited to her afternoon birthday party. There was no way the girl would be here if she didn't want to meet up with Aiden.

Jess approached the digital jukebox at the other end of the bar and leaned up an elbow above his head. As the first chords of the song played, he let a satisfied smirk creep up his lips.

She was sitting on one of the high stools aligned by the bar, waiting for her drink.

I am good, I am grounded
Davy says that I look taller

Jess paused right behind her, leaning one hand against the bar, using the other to touch the side of her arm, sliding his fingertips down until he reached the back of her hand and looped his fingers around her, gently pulling.

I can't get my head around it
I keep feeling smaller and smaller

She slowly turned back on the stool, the look in her eyes surprised.

Jess lifted her hand in his and watched as their fingers intertwined. Rory slid down from the high stool, following him to the makeshift dancefloor. He placed her palm on his shoulder as his stopped against her waist, pulling her so that she was flush against his hip. There was nothing tentative or unsure about the way she fit against him, from his shoulder down to his knee he exuded solidity and warmth.

I need my girl
I need my girl

And suddenly they were four years back, dancing in a different month in a different room.

I thought you didn't dance.

I don't.

Great. Then why did you bring me here?

Because I needed an excuse to touch you.

She looked up at him and by the look in his eyes knew he was also remembering that first dance. So much had changed. And then, not so much. They had shared so many secrets in the interim. So many, their secrets had swallowed one another. Now wherever she ran, there was so much of him within her, she could never get free. He was like dope. She was addicted. And as bad as the withdrawal had been, she felt his gravity rush over her, swallow her, pull her in. And she knew she was about to fall again. Tripping over their chemistry had been so frustrating. If her heart was about to be broken again, then she was about to face the consequences. But if it wasn't... the alternative was intoxicating.

'I'm taking Cerberus to the park this Saturday. Eleven. Ish.'

His hold over her waist got firmer. She let out a stifled whimper.

She felt his stubble against her cheek as he smiled. He nuzzled her neck and held her even closer, letting his palms slide up, one cradling her head, his fingers getting tangled into her hair, the other pressing against her back into a tight embrace. They had stopped moving.

A couple of tables from the makeshift dancefloor an almost four year old boy was begrudgingly watching the couples as they moved from side to side.

'Is she his girlfriend?'

Paris followed her son's look towards Aiden who was swaying from side to side holding Tiffany's elbows and doing his best not to step on her toes.

'I think he wants her to be,' Paris said, causing Tristan to let out a low disconcerted grunt. Who would guess that Tristan Dugray would be such a stuck-up dad when it came to his own son developing affections for the opposite sex? It was hilarious.

'Why?'

'What?'

'Why does he want her to be his girlfriend. She's a girl, girls are gross.' Josh reasoned, winning an appreciative nod from Tristan. That's what reasonable young boys were supposed to feel about girls. Not traitorously show them their secret drawings.

'Because when he sees her, his dopamine levels go crazy and he gets dizzy from a sudden rush of excitement. High levels of dopamine and serotonin make him feel all kinds of giddy and self-conscious, his heart rate picks up, his palms start sweating and if this little prima decides to ask him to buy her the Bolshoi Theatre had he the money he would do it right away.'

'Yuk,' Josh made a face.

'That's right, buddy,' Paris nodded. 'Those are the same substances that cause schisophrenia and insanity, they're dangerous stuff.'

Helen came by at their table, a tilted party hat hanging haphazardly from the side of her head.

'Come on, little guy, I got birthday - dance with me!'

'I am not your boyfriend!' Josh said with clear traces of indignation and disgust in his voice.

'Of course not, sweetheart, we're just buddies. So what do you say? I'm gonna play Gangnam Style on the jukebox after that slow song ends, it's gonna be on you if you miss it out,' Helen shrugged and went for the jukebox, followed by a suddenly enthusiastic Josh.

'All the emotional maturity you pass on to your son,' Tristan said, in equal parts amazed and suspicious. 'You sure know how to cope with all the emotional turmoil,' he shook his head with a small smirk.

Paris shrugged impassively.

'I'm dealing the same way the rest of the grown-up population does when facing an emotional problem.'

Tristan gave her an incredulous look.

'Pretend it doesn't exist hoping my ignorance will make it disappear.'

Tristan chuckled.

'Working great so far, does it?'

'Yep. For example, falling for someone is like an oral herpes - no treatment actually works, you just have to sit it out until it goes away. It will make appearance every now and then, embarrass you every once in a while but it won't kill you as far as it doesn't generalize.'

Tristan could only blink a couple of times before he fell into a fit of laughter.

'You're something else, Geller,' he gasped in between snorts.

'Don't I know it,' Paris rolled her eyes. 'I'm gonna go take another beer,' she mumbled and started for the bar, trying to ignore the triumphant voice in her head that was all too glad she had managed to make him laugh so freely. Then she remembered who she was and, more importantly, who he was, and mumbled to herself. Herpes, herpes, herpes...

TBC