Disclaimer: Nothing's mine, etc.

'If you take this job seriously, you can't afford to act like a diva.'

The expression on Beatrice Shefield's face could make a person push the button of their own electric chair.

'I take my job seriously.'

John Pratt, Head of St Morrison's Board of Directors, let out a quiet sigh and rested back in his leather chair. He had turned seventy this year, the party had been fancy and sophisticated. Although he came from old money and was an Ivy League graduate, he was a man who had both of his feet on the ground and made sound judgements. That's why he had been Head of the Board for more than twelve years.

Beatrice held Pratt's look with her head held high. She always entered her battles with the self-confidence of a victress. She wasn't about to change her ways just because she found herself in a situation she hadn't been in before.

Pratt gave her a slow nod.

'Not the surgical part,' he explained calmly. 'I mean your position as administrative executive of a surgical ward. You can't keep on picking only surgeries you're interested in and leave all the paperwork to other members of the staff. You're a remarkable surgeon, Beatrice. More than that, you're an icon. But that's not what you're hired to do here. I'm sorry if St Morrison's is too small for your talent. I think we both know that...'

'I'll do it okay?' her voice came a shriller octave more stressed than normal. 'I'll try harder, just...' she took a sharp breath in, preparing herself to lose a battle in order to win the war. She couldn't be a sore loser if she wanted to do this right. And she wasn't half-assed in any aspect of her life. She wasn't gonna start now. She tipped her chin up. 'Send someone from administration and we'll go through paperwork.'

'Just...' she let out a controlled sigh, 'pick someone who's not about to get on my nerves too much and have them bring soy latte on their way.'

Under his greyed eyebrows, there was a glint of admiration in John Pratt's eyes. This was a woman who didn't give up without a fight. As a matter of fact, she wasn't known to give up, period. And John Pratt had always had an appreciation for a good fighter. He wouldn't be where he was today if he didn't.

'He still not calling? Is that why you're so grumpy?'

'Huh,' Paris made a face, picking a cobblestone from the ground between the bleachers and throwing it forward. It landed into the sprouting grass. They had taken a walk and stopped to get some rest on the bleachers (well, Rory was the one who needed the rest, really) while Josh and Jess kicked the ball along the otherwise empty field. Paris picked another cobblestone and threw it forward, this time hitting the back of a seat. Cerberus pricked his ears up and aimed a calm dark gaze up at Paris who spread her arms lifting her eyebrows in a 'what's your problem' gesture. The dog continued lying in Rory's feet, wise enough not to get into a fight with a frustrated Paris.

'Why not go and kick his ass, ask him what's gotten into him?' Rory asked, petting Cerberus' head absently.

'Been there done that,' Paris answered dispassionately, narrowing her eyes to look around without actually sporting the slightest bit of interest in their surroundings. She leaned forward with a sigh, resting her elbows over her jean-clad knees and started drawing circles into the dirt around her feet with a thin straw she'd picked from the ground between the bleachers.

The silence stretched out for a while. Paris looked more sullen than Rory remembered seeing her lately.

'It didn't work,' Rory recapped for her.

'I feel so stupid. Can you see the irony in that? Tristan is the stupid one while I, in comparison, am brilliant. And he's got me feeling stupid. Are you following this?'

'Surprisingly, yeah.'

'Well, it's unnerving.'

'Sometimes...'

Rory swallowed the 'sometimes love's like that' comment, because she felt it wasn't the right time for it, so she settled for,

'Sometimes people need time.'

'Oh please,' Paris huffed. 'I've given him time. I've been patient with him. I've been patient with him and I've specifically laid it out for him, like spoke it loud and clear in articulate English, that I'm being patient. I don't expect him to suddenly turn into some kind of smart person, I just need him to be non-stupid for a moment and give me a sign what the hell is going on.'

Paris stabbed at the ground with the twig, getting it crushed. Her chin was jutted forward, her eyes shooting angry daggers. She looked like her eyes could tear up from the amount of effort she put into not being as unnerved as she was.

'I'm acting stupid,' she said between clenched teeth.

Rory put a hand on her shoulder.

'You care, that's not stupid, it's human.'

'Same thing,' Paris huffed a breath out. 'I went to his gym last week.'

'To train?' Rory narrowed her eyes in confusion.

Paris squeezed her eyes shut before she grumbled,

'To leave a mozzarella package in his locker.'

He would know what it meant.

'I told you it was stupid.' She stood abruptly, sticking her hands into her jeans pockets and pacing in one place.

'Paris,' Rory stood up too, using both of her hands for leverage as she did, balancing her extra weight due to her growing belly. 'Are you... are you jealous?' she asked carefully, watching her friend as she kicked the wooden seat before her with the tip of her shoe.

Paris huffed dismissively, shaking her head twice.

'Out of my mind,' she said then. So quietly, it might have as well been a gust of wind.

'You're not good at soccer,' Josh said giving Jess a skeptical look under an arched brow.

Jess folded both arms before his chest and stood straighter, an amused smile nagging at the corner of his mouth. The kid was such a mouth-off, he was mini-Paris all the way through.

'Ah, who knows,' Jess shrugged, 'maybe I'm just pretending so that you can score when you play against me.'

'Huh,' Josh said, mulling over the thought for a minute. Then, he looked up at the bleachers where his mom and Rory were sitting, and slanted his head towards Jess again.

'When are you gonna leave?' Josh asked, making Jess' face freeze for a moment.

'Eh, come again?'

'Rory is gonna have a baby, right?'

Jess narrowed his eyes, not really sure where this conversation was getting.

'Ehm, yeah.'

'So when are you gonna move?'

'Move where?'

Josh stopped and gave him a stare that said 'are you really stupid?.'

'Away,' Josh said as if it was the most obvious answer. And, as if it weren't obvious enough, he made a 'duh' face and sighed, putting up with Jess' sluggishness. 'You know, when the baby is born. You're gonna move away right?'

Jess narrowed his eyes even more, the cleft between his eyebrows deepening. Josh was pretty grown-up for his own age but he wasn't grown enough to be bullshitting him.

'Josh,' Jess started carefully, feeling awkward as hell, 'do you mean move like your father?'

The kid looked at him with something like his 'duh' expression and a tinge of hurt at hearing the words out loud.

Jess licked a lip and lifted both palms to cross behind his head, making a couple of steps. Heck, how did you get out of this conversation with a four year old who wasn't even your own kid to begin with? What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to dodge the question? Okay, Mariano, think. Think.

Who was he kidding, he was hardly an expert on fathers, were they missing or not. Jeez.

Okay, you're obviously having this conversation, so hell with it.

'Josh, why do you think I'll leave?'

The kid shrugged, looking more deflated.

'Aiden and Tristan don't come to pick me up from school anymore,' he mumbled.

Shit. So there was that, too.

'And why do you think that is?' Jess asked carefully, carefully, stepping on thin ice. Why him? Of all the people Josh could be having this conversation with, he chose him.

The kid shrugged again, biting on the inside of his cheek.

'I guess they moved on, too,' Josh said quietly.

Like my father.

'Mom can be difficult,' the boy said even more quietly. 'I've heard dad say it when they argue,' he explained as he met Jess' incredulous look. 'Maybe Tristan found a new girlfriend too.'

Like my father.

Jess took a breath in and squatted before Josh, squeezing a palm down his nape, trying to think of a proper thing to say. His own experience of surpassing father-to-son drama in stride wasn't exactly stellar. Damn, he was catching himself in the process of sweating over the fact that he had inherited the genes of two people completely incapable of raising the child they'd brought into this world. They had brought so much chaos into his world, at some points in his life it had felt like it was irrevocable. And he would always be the son of clueless Jimmy and even more clueless Liz. Yep. He was their kid. It was non-negotiable. You don't pick your parents. Obviously.

However, Jess had managed to come through... kind of. Okay, he had come through. Somehow. God knows how. The best things about love and patience he learned at twenty-seven, after he met a newly employed doctor in the ER. The same lady doctor who was currently his fiancee and was carrying his child. He was only beginning to fight his childhood demons and he was thirty years old. Josh was four. Jess had wished so many times that there was someone who would talk some sense to him when he was a kid. He hated, hated how ignorant people were at the time (because at four he shouldn't have had to check up on his mother's breathing to make sure she was still alive and at ten he shouldn't have had to clean up her vomit and think it was normal because hey, probably most ten year olds did this when they came home after school, right?). With time, as he grew older, he learned to be thankful for onlookers' ignorance because at least it meant he wouldn't have to deal with their shit, too. However, now he realized they probably didn't know what to say. Bystanders had no idea what to do in those situations and most of them didn't think twice. Not knowing what to say didn't make walking away okay though. Not by a far stretch. It only made it more... relatable.

'It feels like they didn't only leave your mother, it feels like they left you too, eh?' Jess asked in a low, calm voice.

Josh nodded, his eyes getting watery.

'People have different ways of being in each other's lives, I guess,' Jess said, sitting in the grass, leaning both elbows against his knees. Josh sat down too, mirroring his position. 'Sometimes they stay. Sometimes they don't. And whether they stay around or not is not necessarily related to how much they love or don't love you.'

The look in Josh's eyes was doubtful, albeit hopeful.

'My father left me and my mom when I was two,' Jess said in the same calm, low voice which seemed to get Josh's attention. 'He never wanted to be a part of my life and I guess if I'd have any say in it, neither would I. He wasn't a father who wanted to be a father, so it was a matter of time until he was out of my life doing his own thing anyway.'

Jess took a breath and licked a lip, musing over his next words.

'Your dad moved to California but he's still a major part of your life, right?'

'Yeah,' Josh mumbled, obviously not fully agreeing with the last part of the statement. His father had left for freaking California. The kid felt left behind. Of course he would like his father to be a bigger part of his life.

'He wants to be a part of your life then?' Jess prodded, stopping himself from wincing at his own words. This conversation was so gonna give him an ulcer.

'I guess,' Josh shrugged, not convinced.

'When he's around you, he looks happy, no?' Jess asked, keeping his voice neutral.

Josh thought about it for a second before a small smile crept up his lips.

'Yeah.'

'Yeah,' Jess nodded. 'I thought so.'

Josh looked up at Jess and his eyes had so much hope it made Jess cringe on the inside. Grown-ups were assholes. That was a fact. Life sucked and there was a great amount of injustice that each human would suffer at some point. Some kids were less lucky in the parent department, meaning their life started sucking at a younger age. But you didn't tell a four-year old that.

'Dad didn't leave because of you, Josh,' Jess said carefully. 'Dad didn't leave because of your mom either. He didn't leave because he doesn't love you or because he doesn't want to be part of your life anymore. Dad left because of dad. Can you try and remember that?' he asked gently, searching Josh's eyes.

The kid was watching him with wide eyes that were watering. Watering. Jeez.

'Okay,' Josh whispered.

'Okay,' Jess gave him a nod, trying not to ooze too much relief that this conversation was hopefully over. Tough cookie. Oh well.

TBC