Disclaimer: Nothing's mine.

A/N: Time to shake this story up a little. Ready for another ride? Here it is. Oh, and also - reviews matter :)They help me see what I can do better when writing this story :) Happy reading!

'Don't answer,' Rory stirred against Jess' side, sleepily rubbing her nose in the crook of his neck.

His mobile continued beeping over the nightstand. Jess leaned up on an elbow and reached for his phone.

'It's from the hospital,' he said in sleep-gravelly voice.

'You're not on call tonight though, right?' Rory leaned up on both elbows, squinting against the light of the mobile's screen.

'Hello,' he sighed into the phone, rubbing his eyelids.

Rory's pager went off.

'Yeah,' Jess said and both sat up into the bed, exchanging knowing looks. 'We'll be there.'

There had been a snowstorm. It had broken an electrical pole off. There had been a short circuit. Then fire. The fire had caused a mini gas explosion. The gas explosion had caused serious damage in a couple of floors in an apartment building. There had been dozens of residents in the apartment building during the time of the explosion. A chain reaction of mishaps.

There was this term in medicine, the law of the series. Every practicing physician came across it at some point. It probably used to sound illogical and made up when one was a medical student. But as you started working, you found it did happen. And after you came across it in person, you never underestimated the power of seriality.

Two mass casualty incidents in one week could happen. They just rarely did. But when they did happen, they happened serially. There was always the weather to blame, of course. Your horoscope. Someone's period. Murphy's law. The retrograde Mercury. And life being... you know, life.

Fellow surgeons and anesthesiologists from St Morrison's Surgery Department. A number of scrub nurses and medical assistants. Most members of St Morrison's Surgical staff were sitting in St Morrison's conference hall, exchanging looks. There were forty-six of them. They had been paged to gather into the conference hall as soon as they arrived at the hospital, so some of them were still in their civilian clothes. Others had interrupted a shift or had thrown their scrubs on before getting into the car to get there. The large hall was unusually quiet. The silence of an intelligent audience awaiting a piece of bad news.

Dr Peterson entered the room and, if possible, the hall became even more quiet. As if the whole place sucked in a breath, all noise died, anticipating.

'Thank you everyone for being here tonight. As you already know, we have emergency situation again and everybody's efforts are highly appreciated. The reason you were asked to gather here is because I've been asked to make an announcement. As you have noticed, Chief Robertson has been missing for a couple of days. Maybe some of you guessed he has health issues and they would be right. Three days ago, Chief Robertson had a stroke and is currently recovering in St Frederick's Neurology Department. Today, he officially informed the board of Directors that he will be retiring as Chief of Surgery, effective immediately.'

There was an unsettled buzz throughout the room but heads were still turned towards Peterson expectantly.

'Starting today, the Board will accept applications for new Chief in the next seven days. Meanwhile, Chief Robertson has asked me to step in as temporary Chief. I count on your professionalism so we can continue doing our job here efficiently. I will gladly answer all your questions in a couple of hours when the gas explosion crisis is over. Until then, please check the medical teams schedule I left on Registration desk on my way here. Now, let's save some lives.'

'You paired up with me?' Paris rose an eyebrow.

Rory shrugged.

'I think Peterson used an alphabetical system when setting up the teams. So, who's behind that curtain?' she nodded towards the ER cubicle Paris had just come out of.

Paris sighed grimly.

'Twelve year old boy, second and third degree burns covering extensive areas... It's quite bad.'

'I'll get him a painkiller cocktail and get what we need to dress the wounds. You started antibiotic and fluids?'

'What do you think?'

Rory nodded, biting back a witty comment.

Paris looked to the side and placed both hands on her hips, taking a deep breath in.

'You okay?' Rory stopped to give her friend a look.

'It's bad, Rory,' Paris glanced towards the curtain behind which the boy was lying. 'I'm not sure if he'll make it through tonight without going septic.'

Rory put a hand on Paris' shoulder, offering a small smile.

'We try our best and see how he responds. We give him a chance, then it's up to him. Okay?'

Paris licked a lip and looked down, letting out a loud exhale.

'Yeah.' She looked up, the look in her eyes getting more determined. 'Yeah. Let's do this.'

Paris drew the curtain so that she got into the cubicle next to the burnt boy's bed.

'I heard what you said.'

She had to have thought about that before sticking her foot in her mouth. Shit.

'Can you ease the pain? Please?'

Paris paused and held the boy's look, noting how his green eyes looked tired and watery.

'We will,' she stepped closer, checking his iv line and his monitor before meeting his eyes again. 'Look, Edward, what you heard... I'm not gonna lie to you. You were hurt pretty badly. But I'm really gonna try and get you through this. Really, really do my best. And I'm one hell of a doctor. If someone can move Heaven and Earth, that's me. Got it?'

The boy's eyes twinkled with hope.

'Got it.'

'Okay. Now I'm gonna get you drugged so you're gonna believe everything I say, plus you're not gonna feel the pain as bad as you do right now.'

'You allowed to do this?'

'Get you drugged? Absolutely. From now on, I'm your guardian devil.'

'Devil?'

Paris shrugged.

'They were always more efficient.'

A couple of hours later Dr Paris Geller was starting to believe that she was in fact able to move Heaven and Earth because Edward's vitals were stable and his fever was slowly going down. And at the back of her mind, she wondered if it was ever gonna stop. The feeling that any kid who came to the ER was in a way her kid. The overwhelming feeling of responsibility. And guilt. The fear that if she failed to save any of those injured kids, she wasn't gonna be able to live with herself.

'Hey,' Rory approached her on St Morrison's rooftop. It was snowing again, but it was light and beautiful, covering the streets in puffy snow. Nothing like the blizzard last night. In the small morning hours and the lingering dusk, the evening felt surreal.

'You okay?' Rory asked.

Paris turned to look at her friend.

'Yeah. Just taking five before I get home.'

Rory nodded.

'Me too. Been a hard night.'

'Jess?'

'He's staying another hour or two. However, I'm so groggy I'm starting to feel sick. I'm gonna head home, want a lift in my cab?'

Paris shook her head.

'Okay then. Oh, and good job with that kid. You really pulled him through last night.'

Paris nodded solemnly. She was lost in her own sleep-deprived thoughts, asking herself whether being a mother made her unprofessional. Because, tonight she went out of her way to help that boy. Moreover, she had made a promise. She had given him hope. And it was common knowledge a doctor should never make promises, especially to a patient, especially to a critically ill patient. Because such kind of promise were never theirs to keep.

Up in the dusky sky, more and more snowflakes formed and fell in a disorderly fashion, free and innocent, making a free flight down and around only to meet their end into an infamous puddle, most of them not even living long enough to bask in the forthcoming morning light.

Paris shook her head and went back in, preparing to leave. She was tired and got a kid at home, her own son waiting for her to give him her undivided attention.

'Okay, so that's gonna be weird.'

Jess cast an unimpressed glance at Tristan who had just limped into the locker room, wobbling in his walking cast.

'What is.'

'I'm gonna share something,' Tristan said, opening his locker and taking out a King Julian Feel Free To Bask In My Glow tee.

'Do you have to?' Jess arched an eyebrow skeptically.

Tristan took off the upper part of his uniform and threw the tee on.

'Paris is on to get me and I wanna stay friends without getting into a relationship.' he got out on an exhale as he not very graciously started taking his scrub pants off, panting as they got stuck over the cast before he managed to set the material free with a hard pull and a colorful grunt. He looked up, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. 'Here, I already feel better.'

Jess continued tying the laces of his combat boots.

'O...kay.'

'It's like she wants a whole Broadway performance and I'm stalling around, whistling. I mean... we're friends. And it's good. Really good. But a relationship? Huh, I'm so severely underprepared for such a venture, it's bound to blow off. Like bringing a knife to a gunfight, you know? Can I share some more?'

Jess looked up, his expression deadpan.

'There is more?'

'Oh, there is.'

Jess kept back from wincing, but his expression definitely gave the 'Why me' vibe off.

Tristan managed to shimmy into a pair of baggy track pants over the cast and stood up, giving Jess a glare.

'Man, I was this close to calling Doyle and ask him how he handled a Paris situation.'

'That's easy,' Jess snickered. 'You don't handle a Paris situation, it handles you.'

'Great,' Tristan huffed. 'Chuck Norris reference, really helpful.'

Jess only shrugged and stood up, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, amusement evident in his eyes.

'So,' Tristan took a breath and braced himself, 'Let's get to the point. When you do the gentleman's business, do you think about Rory?'

Jess stopped in his track and sized Tristan down, arching an eyebrow in a silent question.

'You know, the gentleman's business,' Tristan gave Jess a pointed look, 'attending to your - you know.'

'Jeez,' Jess huffed, unable to decide if he was more amused or put off by Tristan's oversharing tendencies, 'you're unbelievable, Dugray.'

'No judging, pal. Just asking.'

'None of your damn business, pal.' Jess shook his head disbelievingly. 'Fucking unbelievable.'

'Because I do.'

The look Jess gave him was murderous. It made Tristan snap back out of his otherwise deep thoughts.

'Oh! I don't mean Rory. I don't think about her while I... I meant Paris. Did you think that... Huh, that would be weird, right?'

The expression on Jess' face was pretty telling that it was time he stopped talking. Like, yesterday. However, Tristan was obviously on a roll.

'I meant Paris. And isn't it strange that I don't wanna start a relationship? Because then I could have all those fantasies for real and -'

'Okay, enough,' Jess slammed the door to his locker with a thud and started to leave. 'Are you familiar with the meaning of too much information? Find a damn therapist, Dugray. Or better - call Doyle. Jeez.'

Jess unlocked the front door to the apartment, thinking of ways to scrub the last pieces of conversation off his brain.

'Ror?'

The lights were on. He kicked his shoes to the side and walked into the living room, ruffling Cerberus' head as he looked around. Empty. He popped his head into the dark bedroom to find it empty too. The lights were on in the bathroom and the door was slightly ajar. Jess felt a wolfish smirk pull at the corners of his mouth, hoping to find Rory in some state of undress.

He had tried to call her on his way home but her phone was dead. She probably forgot to charge it. Or turned it off in order to have some sleep after taking a quick shower. His smirk grew wider as he imagined she was in fact waiting for him, hopefully with nothing more than a towel on.

'Ror?' he called as he knocked on the bathroom door, pushing it to open further.

He walked into an empty bathroom, Cerberus in tow and just as he turned to leave, something caught his eye. A package. Lying on top of the thrash can. A quick pregnancy test package.

Jess moved stiffly to sit down on the bath edge, leaning both elbows against his knees. He stared at the mobile in his hands, trying to chase the numb feeling away. He tried telling himself he didn't know what the test result said. Tried telling himself that maybe he wouldn't have to get into a fight he'd been fearing for the last four years. He looked into Cerberus' dark gazing eyes and wondered how one moment you had everything you'd ever wanted, and then, somehow, you didn't.

TBC