Disclaimer: Nothing's mine.

A/N: To everyone who gave this story the thumbs up - thank you! :)

Loved the 'come to Jesus' reference and couldn't not use it ;)

Doctor Tristan Dugray flew into the waiting room clad in his gym gear, looking around frantically.

'Where is she?' he asked Jess who stood up from one of the seats, followed up closely by Rory.

'In there,' Jess tilted his head towards the exam rooms. 'She's... Dugray!'

'Sir, you can't go there!' a nurse and two medical assistants trotted behind him as he started in the direction of the exam rooms.

Tristan didn't turn to give them a look.

...

A few members of the hospital staff had rushed right after Tristan, stumbling into the hospital room, panting. The guy knew how to run.

Paris put down the book she had been reading and made the nurse and the medical assistants a sign to give her and the gym-clad clown a minute. The poor guys seemed at a loss. After all, the man had all but broken into Dr Geller's hospital room and everyone knew how bad it looked if a hospital couldn't ensure professional health service to one of its own lady-surgeons. Seeing the reluctance in the medical assistants' eyes, Paris gave them a pointed 'you don't wanna mess with me' look and repeated the hand wave to dismiss them. They left the hospital room with as much as mumbling a confused 'excuse us' before closing the door.

Paris sat up into the hospital bed, shifting her gaze from the closed door back to Tristan. Fists balled by his sides, still panting, his look roaming between her face and her feet, unable to settle in one place. Looking for injuries. He looked as disheveled and out of his game as she'd ever seen him.

'Dugray? Dugray.' she tried again. 'Tristan!' she rose her voice snapping her fingers once, which finally cut the deal and made him look up at her.

'I'm okay,' she said slowly, articulately.

He looked at her with his eyes wide. He resembled a startled rabbit. Or a drunk reindeer. A clown without his make-up. A disaster in the making. Ugh. He had no idea what to do with himself.

'Crap,' Paris sighed and moved to the side of the hospital bed, making room for him. 'Come on,' she nodded towards the space she had vacated and watched him as he kicked his tennis shoes to the side, took off his training jacket and wordlessly climbed in beside her.

'So that's why you didn't pick up. You were perspirating,' Paris scrunched her nose, her eyebrows arching with the discovery. 'You stink, Dugray, in more ways than one.'

He didn't argue. She wasn't sure he even registered her comment. His movements were stiff as he settled in beside her. Despite being so much taller, somehow he managed to fit into the hospital bed with his forehead touching the side of her ribs, curled up into a fetal position. She lifted an arm and hung it above him. She debated what to do next before deciding to descend her arm and tap his shoulder awkwardly.

'It's okay,' she patted his shoulder. Once. Twice. 'You're such a sissy,' she sighed, looping her arm around his shoulders more decidedly, resembling a loose hug. 'I should change my emergency contact back to Rory,' Paris reasoned, letting out another sigh. 'Or Jess. You're unreliable,' she reasoned. 'You get into a fight with the hospital staff. Then whine. With your mouth shut. You whine with your mouth shut and manage to do it using only your eyes. Like some lost puppy. Or... or a mute baby. That's the definition of unreliable.'

She drew back a little, giving him a look. He was lying curled up next to her with his eyes closed, a vein in his temple pumping, two thermal shirt-covered arms stiffly locked around her torso. He looked like a victim of PTSD.

'Because, honestly?' Paris took a breath and continued, trying her best to make her voice sound as condescending as she could muster. Because that was her definition of lightening the mood. Oh well. 'You get hurt and what do I do? I step in saving the day, acting all badass and level-headed. But I do as much as trip over a shopping cart in the grocery store, infamously bumping my head into a shelf and subsequently needing a head scan to ensure all the brilliance is still in there. And what do you do? Here you are causing a riot in the ER shouting like a maniac,making hospital staff chase you around the ward like some reenactment of Nu Pogodi.'

Nothing. Oh, Dugray.

'Are you always this dysfunctional when you're worried?'

He only locked his arms tighter around her, gripping like his life depended on it.

'I'm not even hurt. You're unbelievable. Such an overkill,' she sighed, resting her head back onto the pillow, stroking his nape absent-mindedly.

'You hungry?' Rory asked as they entered their rental and switched the lamps on one by one, throwing her purse over one of the kitchen high stools.

'Nah, I'm okay,' Jess said, following behind, stretching his arms above his head sleepily. 'You?'

'Me too,' Rory smiled, raising a palm to stroke his cheek. 'You're tired.'

It was strange how, now that she had finally taken a leave off work, she regularly noticed how tired he was after a long shift. He must have been tired before too, but when they were both working she was probably too groggy to notice. He had been working when the call for Paris came. Rory had been the first to reach the ER, and Jess had come shortly after. And then... Well, then Dugray happened. Ah.

'What are you thinking about?' Jess made a step to come closer, standing right before her. He reached a hand up and put a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb smoothing a line at the corner of her eye.

Rory let out a crooked smile.

'I remembered the look on Tristan's face when he flew into the waiting room, looking for her.'

Jess nodded with recognition.

'You should've let me kick his ass at the Monday training, would've come to his senses earlier.'

Rory looked up at him and smirked. Jess had been more than ready to give Dugray the come to Jesus talk but she had asked him to wait and give the poor guy some time. Time, Jess had huffed, 'For what? To make an even bigger ass of himself?' However, Rory had managed to talk him into being more patient. I'm sure he has his reasons for being the way he is... apart from being a major jerk. You didn't always wear your heart on your sleeve either, Mariano. Give the man time. That had made Jess reluctantly consent to thrash Dugray around the gym floor only mentally. For now.

'I think they compliment each other,' Rory sighed thoughtfully. 'In the strangest way, they do.'

'Huh,' Jess shook his head and moved to sit on the sofa, stretching his feet before him.

'Jeez, I'm beat,' he suppressed a yawn.

'I'll make some tea, go to bed,' Rory suggested.

Jess massaged his temples with his thumb and middle finger, resting his head back with his eyes closed. He looked like the definition of beat. Rory's eyes moved, completely on their own accord, towards the patch of bare skin where his tee had ridden up over the belt of his jeans. He had been consistent with his trainings with Dugray and it showed, if she were judging by the cut V of his waist. She felt a familiar longing stir and a pang of nostalgia hit her. A couple of months ago, she would have crawled up his lap and his exhaustion would be long forgotten within mere seconds. Now, not so much. She felt huge, almost twice her size, clad in a sloppy Joe sweater. She wasn't monstrously huge, at least she hoped she wasn't. But she was much more self-conscious every time she passed by the mirror, losing the shape of her waist and the hollow of her cheeks completely. Having a quite pregnant belly protrude before her, spontaneous engagement into any kind of physical affection felt much more... elephantine. And rare. Much more rare. Agh.

Rory shook her head, willing her look to move up, finding a very asleep Jess on the couch.

Okay. Tea time it was.

TBC