You know what's really funny? How in the last chapter I said I'd update the next day... Fast Forward to three weeks later. OK - I guess it's not HAHA funny, more like awkward silence funny. But here it is - the next one: :)

"Hi."

It's funny. How her heart skips a beat when he says it. Every, damn, time he says it. And she doesn't know. She doesn't know if it's the tone of his voice, if it's the velvety baritone; or if it's the way he says it, that crooked smile that makes her weak at the knees appearing on his lips; or maybe it's the way his eyes come alive. Maybe it's just the effect of seeing him – always like the first time, overwhelmed by his height, by his charm; by the electricity that surges through her body. Maybe it's just the joy, the excitement that he's there; that she's letting herself want him there, need him there. Maybe it's all those things, and more; maybe it's her thoughts the moment she sees him, temporarily distracted by fantasies – of him and her, and naked bodies and entangled limbs; of quiet screams. Because, she thinks, he, he could make her call out his name, as she fists the sheets, at the edge of her sanity. He could, with his tongue, and his hands and his-

"Liv?" And her head snaps up, her eyes lingering on his crotch for another moment. She blushes as she realizes she's clutching on to the armchair, and closes her parted lips; shifting in her seat, so that her legs are tucked away under her body.

"Hi," she says, quietly, staring at his red ear, avoiding his triumphant gaze. He crosses the small hospital room, in a few easy steps, until he's standing before her, towering over her, blocking everything else from view.

"So…" and he looks at the empty bed, quizzically, than back at her, licking his lips, "Where's Lynn?"

She reaches for his hand, and runs her thumb from his knuckles down his fingers gently, "She's in the bathroom. Brushing her tee-" But before she can finish the sentence, his hand is gripping hers, and then he's pulling her up, flush against his body. She's standing on the armchair, and his head is resting comfortably on her chest, as she bends down to kiss his temple. And she can feel his arms tighten around her, as if he's afraid she could disappear at any moment; and she understands – this them, it's too good, too perfect to last. So she threads her fingers through his thick curls and inhales – commits this to memory – the smell of early spring rain in his hair, his even breaths swallowed by her chest; his hands traveling up and down her back. She remembers the moment, a vignette.

"Is everything OK?" And a small voice breaks them out. And he's stepping back, no, jumping back, really; and she's stumbling into the chair, or from the chair – she doesn't know; all she knows is he's trying to catch her, and it's rushed and awkward; and it's her elbow in his eye, and a coarse, "Ouch!" And he lowers her to the floor, before stumbling a few steps back himself, his head bent, his hand covering his eye.

"Oh, god." He says, while trying to inhale. She grabs his wrist gently, and pushes his hand away, trying to inspect his eye.

"Look at me." He blinks furiously. "Fitz. Look. At. Me." She rubs her thumb in small circles on his wrist, and she can feel his pulse slowing down.

He opens his eyes. And she takes a step back, dropping his hand. "I am so sorry. I am so, so, so sorry." And now she's hyperventilating, shaking her head furiously.

"Liv." Nothing. She is pacing, apologizing frantically. "Liv!" He places his hands on her shoulders, "Livvy." And she stops in her tracks and looks up.

"You decided blind me with your elbow, instead of blinding me with love, huh?"

"Sorry. I-"

"Liv. I'm fine." He says, a wide smile stretching across his face. "I'll have a bruise for a few days... or years," she buries her head in her hands, "but I will be OK. I'm OK."

She peeks at his eye, through a crack between her fingers, but then buries her face in her hands again. "It's swollen." She says, her words muffled by the heel of her palm.

"I didn't quite catch that." He whispers in her ear, running his hands up and down her arms.

"It's swollen." She says, finally lifting her face.

"It will be OK." He leans his forehead on hers, then turns his head slowly, from side to side, so that the tip of his nose is playing with the tip of hers. They chuckle, lightly, the warmth of their shared breaths tickling their skin.

"You're acting funny." She startles them again, their eyes are suddenly wide, and Liv bites her lip as Fitz drops his hands quickly from her hips.

"Damn it. We can't keep doing this." He whispers into her ear, before turning around to face Lynn. "Come here." And she walks over to where he's standing, slowly, trying to maintain her balance in Liv's 5 inch heels. He scoops her up in his arms, mindful of her still tender scars and bruises.

"So, C, how would you feel about Liv and me, being… together?"

"What do you mean?" She asks, her confused eyes darting between them. "Are you going somewhere?" Her tone is suddenly high-pitched and fraught with panic.

"No, C, neither of us is leaving." And he runs his hand soothingly through her long hair and down the small back, as he lays a soft kiss on her temple.

"But you're already together… We're all together. We have dinner together, and you help me with my homework, and we go to cinema on Saturdays and skating on Sundays, and we bake, and..."

"No, not together like that." He cuts her off, his voice tender and warm.

"Together like what then?" She challenges, bending her back slightly, to get a better look at him.

"Together… romantically." He manages to push out after a long pause.

"Like boyfriend and girlfriend?" She asks, scrunching up her small face, and biting her lip.

He looks at Liv, and she smiles at him, winking. "Yeah… I guess, like boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Oh…" And she's quiet. Thinking. They can see the wheels in her head turning. "Does that mean you'll stop fighting?" And they both blush, and look at their feet, suddenly drowning in the familiar guilt.

"Well, no." He says, slowly. And both ladies look at him, Lynn clearly disappointed and Liv a mix of amusement and panic. "We'll still fight sometimes. Because when people love each other they fight. When you love someone, you want them to be the best version of themselves they can be, because you know that that's the only way for them to be really happy. And when you love someone, you don't always see eye-to-eye, but you have to work through it and try to agree – and sometimes to do that, you have to fight, for a little bit. But, we'll never fight like that day – I promise you that." And he can see her visibly relax, a small smile appearing on her lips, but it does nothing to alleviate his guilt.

"Will you be kissing?"

And before he can answer, Liv is speaking, "No! We will not be kissing, not in front of you anyway."

"Good, because that's gross!" She says, before burying her head in the crook of his neck. But then she looks up, and pokes his cheek with her small finger, pondering something for a moment. "Will you have sex?" She's too fascinated by the feel of his stubble under her fingertips to catch a look they've exchanged; to catch the smirk he directed at Liv, and the side-eye she gave him. Realizing neither of them is speaking, she lifts her head, and looks at him, "Because Amber's dad's girlfriend said yesterday when they came to visit that sex ruins relationships."

"She said that to you?" He asks as he lowers her onto the bed.

"No, she was on the phone to her personal shopper." And they can literally see her brain switching between two topics, sex forgotten, shopping clearly more appealing. "Did you know that your personal shopper is like a best friend, but even better, because they don't let you get fat."

"Let me guess, Amber's dad's girlfriend told you that?" He says as he pulls out a bag of gummy worms form his messenger bag.

"Yeah, she-"

"She can't have that." Liv exclaims, before taking the bag of colorful candy from his hand. "She's recovering from surgery. She needs nutrients, not gelatinized sugar.

"But…" And Lynn gives looks at her with teary eyes and a quivering lip, a trick she no question picked up from Liv. And Fitz joins her, in poking out his bottom lip, and blinking furiously.

"No! You can have this instead." And she hands her a banana that a girl takes from her hand with a roll of her eyes.

A firm knock, and then an elderly man with eyebrows thicker than his hair steps in. "Morning." He walks over to the bed and gives Lynn a kiss.

"Morning uncle Cy." And she wraps her arms around his neck, and lays a sloppy kiss on his almost-bald head. "Did you come to continue our game?" And she starts moving the pile of toys on her bed around, looking for a deck of cards.

"No, sweetie, I'll come back for that later." And he stands up, looking at Liv. "I actually need to talk to Liv for a minute." Liv gives him a confused look, but then heads to the door, signaling him to follow.

"What is it Cy? How is her white cell count? Did she catch an infection or something? How are her kidneys? We should re-do her CT, maybe we missed a brain bleed. Or may-"

"Liv." And he says it in that tone that instantly breaks her out, makes her focus. "Lynn is fine. I… there's a case in the ER, a twelve year-old on a skateboard vs. an ice cream truck."

"What's going on?" Fitz asks, closing the door behind him, looking between Cy and Liv.

"There's a case that I could really use Liv's help on, if you guys will be OK for a few hours without her." And he looks at her, but she's shaking her head no, pleading.

"Yeah, we'll be fine."

"I really don't think that's a good idea." She says, her voice laced with panic.

"You don't trust me?" He challenges, but she can tell that he knows it's not it.

"Of course I do… it's just… I don't even have my scrubs." And she knows, she knows it's a lame excuse, but it's the best she can come up with in that moment.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing I brought you some then." He says, with a wide smile on his face. But she doesn't smile back. She just looks between the two of them, and then nods her head.

"Fine." She says, her tone icy, before she heads inside. She pushes the door with too much force and it flies open; Lynn looks up from the iPad, suddenly interested in what's happening. She can feel Fitz behind her, but she refuses to turn around. She just grabs the bag with her stuff from his bag, kisses Lynn quickly and turns around to leave.

"Liv."

"Not now." She hisses.

She walks to the locker room, but her legs don't feel like her own – they feel like rubber, like ice that's melting with every passing second. She feels short, small, insignificant. Her heart is pumping like crazy, the beats echoing in her ears. Her hands shaky, and she's dropping things; the stethoscope around her neck suddenly feels like a noose. Her pager beeps. She stares at the numbers, as they flash on the small screen. 911. It's a 12 year-olds life. They need her. He needs her. His parents need her. His friends, and the girl he likes that sits behind him in class; his younger brother who loves to skateboard too, and the elderly neighbor who he visits every Sunday. He has a life – a life full of people, of memories to be made, of feelings to be felt, dreams to be dreamt. She puts the pager back in her pocket and slams the locker door shut, before running out.

She pauses again, for the briefest of moments, in front of the glass ER doors. The chaos, the bustle, the frantic energy – it's the same as when they brought Lynn in. The shouting, the beeping, the cries and the rare laughs; the flashes of light, of red and of white; the shaky smiles and teary eyes. The same. The same as it always was, but now – now it feels personal.

"Liv, you coming?" Steven calls out, as the glass door closes once again before her face. And she takes a step, then another one, and she keeps going until she's inside. And then, suddenly, it's no longer personal, it's the familiar rush, the confidence, the adrenaline, the high. It's no longer anxiety and fear; it's the world at her feet – it's power, it's ability to save, to help. To fix.

And she does.

He codes, and she brings him back to life. She stops the bleeds, she repairs the damage; she puts the broken body back together. And it's natural, instinctual; it's her hands moving before her consciousness; her eyes seeing things, before they appear. It's hours that feel like a single breath, hours gone in a blink of a tireless eye.

"That… That was impressive." Stephen says as he peels his scrub cap off his head. She just smiles, weakly, as exhaustion slowly overtakes her body. "Can I get you a drink?"

"No thanks." She says as she heads to the waiting room. "I'll just update the parents, and then I think I'll go hang out with Fitz and Lynn."

"You really like him, don't you?"

And her smile widens, as she twists her knuckles, "I do."

"Well, if it's makes it any less scary – that man is head over heels in love with you." And he walks away, with a spring in his step, leaving her stunned in a deserted hallway.

"Hi." And he looks up from his iPad, the screen light illuminating his face in the otherwise dark room.

"Hi." And there's a tone in his voice, uncertainty, or maybe worry?

"What time is it?" She asks as she takes in Lynn's sleeping form.

"Ten." He follows her eyes to the bed. "She fell asleep around nine. She was exhausted."

"How were her tests today?" And she walks over to the armchair.

"Good. She's all good. They said we can take her home on Monday."

"Home, huh?"

"Yeah." He says with a smile as she sits in his lap. He wraps his arms around her, and she leans into him – her body fitting perfectly into his.

"And, we're boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

"That OK?" He asks, his tone light, but there's a slightest hint of concern in it.

"It's perfect." She says before kissing him. Her hand cups his cheek, then moves past his ear, into his hair. And his tongue traces her lips and she opens her mouth for him. He tastes like sugar and lemon, like… and she chuckles before breaking the kiss to look at him. "You gave her gummy worms?"

"I had some too." He says innocently. And before she can reply his lips are on that spot on her neck that makes her forget everything, that makes her want to rip his clothes off and pin him against a wall. She moans.

"Fitz… Lynn." She says, her brain already fuzzy.

"She's asleep." But he stops and rests his forehead on her shoulder.

"So you're no longer mad at me?" He murmurs it against her skin, his teeth scraping her collarbone lightly.

"No." She says as her hands get lost in his hair yet again. "I was…"

"But?"

"But then I realized why you did it. I was scared. I was avoiding the ER, I hadn't touched a patient it ten days… I was scared and you made me face it." And she kisses his temple.

"Actually," he says with a mischievous grin, "you were just becoming unbearable. I mean, you made that intern cry yesterday, and then you made him do her math homework with her, "to learn how to multiply"; you made the nurses change her bed sheets twice a day, I swear they were about to go on strike; you wouldn't let her eat anything other than food that has no appeal to a child; and you second-guessed everything any of the doctors said. I mean even Stephen was starting to lose it. He made me take you out for coffee the last thee times he needed to check on her."

"Oh, my, god! I knew it was strange the third time it happened." She hits his arm playfully, "I cannot believe you conspired against me."

"Hey, it worked," and he pulls her in closer, "you seem happy."

"I am," she leans her head on his chest and wraps her arms around his midsection, "and just for the record – that intern is a crybaby."

A/N: I just wanted to say - THANK YOU for all the reviews, for the messages that you guys sent me asking me about this story. A special shout-out to the cookie Guest Reviewer - You bribed me, and see, I take cookies very seriously, so I'm gonna need you to follow through on that! But honestly you guys are the reason I'm writing again. So thanks. And I hope you liked this, because after 84 years I needed it to not suck completely.

Next chapter, I'm thinking some sexy time... but we'll see. And I make no promises about when I'll update, because as those of you who have been messaging me know - I have a very flexible interpretation of my internal deadlines.