My heart is pounding like a hammer against cloth in my ears I stand there, glued to my spot, dumbfounded. I look between the two of them rapidly. How could he even be here, he's not on call.

"He... He can't!" I blurt impulsively, taking a small step towards Will's desk. "Why would that be, Junior?" Will says, a hint of humor in his voice. That irritates me, because this isn't funny in the least.

"He's... Cardio. Neuro isn't even his specialty." "Well, everyone could use a little refresher, couldn't they? You know, a change of scenery." No, I don't know. I stare at a small fleck of dust on the glass walls, searching desperately for something to say.

"What happened to 'People with good hair have to stick together?'" I whine, having come up with a blank. Will laughs loudly, shaking his bandana-adorned head. Michael gives me a playful smile. "Are you saying I don't have good hair?" I frown back, crossing my arms over my chest. "Think of it this way: Your work load is lessened, and you have more time to explore other regions of your ability." "I don't wanna 'explore' anything!" I almost yell, and then clamp my mouth shut with regret.

He only furrows his eyebrows as fear bubbles in me like an over-boiling pot. "Is there a.... problem, Junior?" He asks, his voice deepening. I clear my throat, shifting my weight from foot to foot. "Um... no?" Michael looks up at me with those stupid doe eyes, chewing his lip. "Sit then." Will nods towards my seat, and I sit in it stiffly, staring straight ahead.

"You know-" "Shut it! We have to hear the plan for the day." I'm almost surprised at the harshness of the words that just tumbled out of my mouth, but he deserves them. Will's eyes dart to the both of us, then he clears his throat.

"Alright. I want you both to make rounds on all of my patients, run their labs, update their charts and come to me with updates for each of them on the hour. Junior, show Michael how it's done until he gets accustomed." "How long is he gonna be here?" I question, and Will frowns at me. Not a common sight. "Come on now, Junior. I thought you were a little more decent." I shake my head, looking down.

"You don't understand." He's quiet. "Get started." He simply returns to his paperwork, twirling the pen in his hand.

I groan, and stand abruptly, heading quickly to the nearest nurse's station. Michael stares there dumbly, as I retrieve all the charts. "Skipper, I-" "All of Will's- Actually, he's Chief Rose to you." I interrupt, having no interest in talking. "Skipper. You can't hate me forever you know." I sense to Old Michael in that remark, the way his voice was cutting, sharp.

"All of Will's patients are VIP, extremely rare cases or personal friends. You will treat them with respect, and give them whatever they wish. You'll be gentle, answer any questions they have, and do not make any promises. Got it?" He sighs, shrugging. "Sure." "Hold these." I dump the charts in his arms, and he wobbles a little under their weight. "I will make the rounds, you will run the labs and update these."

"Why do I have to?" He snaps. I shrug, laughing. "Because you're the newbie runt, and I know what I'm doing. Pay close attention during these rounds, learn something." I snap right back, walking briskly across the bridge to the patient rooms. For the first time, he struggles to follow behind.

Rounds are terrible. First, I have to keep reminding him to stop butting in, to be gentle and answer questions moderately. Nobody wants to hear him go on and on about the history of Motown and how he got to be so successful in music.

"This is the last patient, Roy Maple." "His last name is Maple?" He snickers, shifting the charts in his hands. My hand on the doorknob to Roy's room, I give him a cold stare until he finally shuts up, clearing his throat awkwardly.

I push the door open and smile at the little boy on the bed, playing with a few toy cars. His mother, a kind and worried woman, smiles at me. "Dr. Nelson!" She greets. "Who's your friend." "I'm-" "This is Dr. Jackson. Hi Roy," I sing, and he giggles. Poor Kid, only 8 and he's already got a tumor.

"Pretty doctor!" He smiles in return. Michael smiles. "She is a pretty doctor, isn't she. Beautiful." I look over at him, scowling. He's been doing this sort of thing all day, as if stalking me is gonna help anything. I clear my throat, meeting his neutral eyes. He winks, and I look down at Roy's chart.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Maple, but Roy's latest scans show that the tumor has perforated the optic nerve. We're gonna have to operate soon, or... Roy could loose..." I look over to see Michael staring at me intently, running his tongue over his lips. I swallow hard, the look on his face. He's looking at me the way a puppy looks at a bone. "Roy... could loose..." I stand up straight. "Dr. Jackson stop looking at me like that." I snap, and he shrugs.

"They're my eyes, I can look at who I want." So immature.

"Roy could loose his sight if we don't book this operation. Today." Mrs. Maple sighs, holding a hand over her heart. "Mrs. Maple? I can give you time if you need it-" "No. Go ahead with the surgery." I nod, giving her an apologetic smile. I can't wait to resect this tumor.

****

Will flashes his usual smile as he approaches Michael and I at lunch, unfortunately no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get Michael to give me a moment's peace. This whole time, he's been sitting here with his chin resting on his fist, complementing me. Telling me I should tell him what happened. I think he already knows, or he should. Does he think I'm an idiot?

Will dumps some paperwork on our table, almost knocking my carrot sticks off. "Hey. I need you guys to take care of this, and I need Michael to scrub in with me on the Maple boy's surgery." Michael grins, looking up at him. "Really?" I gape. "But... But I always scrub in with you," I stutter, pushing away my carrots. I suddenly don't have an appetite anymore.

"You've scrubbed in on plenty of surgeries, including tumor resections. It wouldn't hurt to share, now would it?" He asks, cocking his head. I frown. This isn't right, not at all. Zeus, hence the name, is only supposed to be nice to me, not anybody else. I get the surgeries, I get the special treatment, I get the goddammed gummy bears! That and the nickname seems to be all I have left going for me.

He squeezes my shoulder, and even though I'm pissed it still sends a wave of tingle down my spine. "Back off, lion." He teases. "O.R 2, Michael." He walks away, and I growl. "He said back off, lion." He scowls, rubbing it in my face.

He stands, stretching. "I'll see you after." I grab his arm and yank him down, glaring daggers. "I'm going to that surgery." I grumble, clenching his arm. "Ow," He whines, still smirking. "You're staying here to do this scut. I'm going to that surgery." I stand, pushing my chair in. "You wanna step off your fucking pedestal for a minute and let someone else shine? Or do you not understand what that means?"

He angrily talks down to me, like I'm less-than. I laugh genuinely, shaking my head. "Oh, poor Michael with Daddy issues." Maybe I shouldn't have said that, because his eyes darken, all hints of humor leaking out of him. "Maybe you should realise that you're barely half the surgeon and person I am. I'm not gonna let some Newbie come in and take my job, I know that right."

"Is that it, then? You're just... better than me, then?" "You really bring out the worst in me, Michael. That paperwork isn't gonna do itself."

After scrubbing in, I walk into the OR, smiling again as the nurses gown and glove me. Will, who is already scrubbed, turns and looks. He doesn't really react as I approach the table, only chuckling. "I seem to remember asking Michael to scrub in. Am I wrong?" He eyes me, and I can see in his eyes he's smilimg behind his mask.

"You were wrong to ask him." He chuckles again. "Would you like to open?" I nod once. "10 blade."

As I make the incision, he eyeballs me. "Do I... sense something there?" I sigh. "Don't worry about it."

****

I walk into the locker room, throwing my scrub cap into my locker. Michael, who sits on the bench finishing the paperwork, looks up at me.

"Was it successful?" I glance at him. "What?" "The operation. Was it successful." I run my fingers over the peeling paint, wondering what to say. "Well... we removed all the tumor. We'll have to wait until Roy wakes up to see if he's kept his vision."

He nods, turning to face me. I ignore his wondering eyes as I pretend to be searching for something in my already neat locker. "I don't understand." He says quietly, and I furrow my eyebrows. "I said we removed-" "No. You. Us. I don't understand what went wrong."

I sigh, the air leaking out of me like a tire. I really wanted to avoid talking about this. I shake my head. "It wasn't ever meant to be."

"How do you know? You never even tried." He's moves closer now, standing behind me. I turn to face him. "Don't you get it? You treat me like crap all the time, and then expect me to come running back. Jay isn't like you. He's sweet, and actually enjoys being around me, unlike you."

"You think I don't enjoy being around you." He snaps. See? This is what I'm talking about. "You've made it quite clear."

"You didn't even give me a chance," He says louder, angrier.

"We hate each other!" "Speak for yourself!" He says, matching my tone.

"I'm done."

"God, you're so infuriating! You're the prissiest, most-nun like, smart-ass difficult person I've ever met! You're my complete opposite and You drive me crazy! I can never stop thinking about you, you consume my thoughts whole and I can't get the stupid little things you do out of my head! I don't date! You know that, but you..." He slows down, looking at me.

"You make me want to be different. You make me want to change."

I choke on my breath, staring at the person before me. There's no way he could mean his words, he's Michael. He uses people up until they're all gone, and then throws them away. He'll suck the life right out of me, no matter how much my heart is trying to sway me the other way.

"I don't understand what you want from me." His face falls, and almost guilts me. It's obviously wasn't the response he was expecting. He's gotta learn he can't play me like one of his songs, and get what he wants.

"What more do I have to do to make it clear?! I kiss you, I tell you things, we slept in the same bed! I even held your goddamned hand!!! Don't you get it?" He screams at me, outraged. "No!" He slams towards me.

"I want you. All to myself." He rasps, his eyes unrecognizable. God, I want to give in. I want to hug him, kiss him, tell him yes. But I never will. I know better now than to give in again.

"No."

I shriek as he slams his hands against the lockers. "I will burn the whole fucking WORLD down Skipper!" He rages, his voice scaring the hell out of me. I don't know what to think...

Again I shriek, he's scaring the hell out of me. The door flies open, Will standing in the doorway. I see him take in the scene, his jaw dropping. "Jackson! What the hell are you doing? Get away from her!" Well, that sounded a little... off.

"Sir, I was just-" "That's it, you're done Jackson. Off my service, and back to cardio. I don't wanna see you here any day but Saturday." "But-" "Go!" Michael gives me one last look, and speeds out of the room.

My throat aches terribly. I reach up and realise I'm crying. I didn't realise. Will clears his throat, and I look. "Hey... are you ok?" He asks, his voice soft and smooth. And attractive. Why am I thinking this right now?

I nod, sniffling a little. "I'm good." He nods, looking down. "I'm sorry. I'm partly to blame for this, I should've listened to you. You never steer me wrong." He gives me a tentative smile, and I return it. I nod. "Yeah."

"Well. People with good hair've gotta stick together." I giggle a little.

"I'll see you Saturday."

Weakly, I close my locker, and sigh. That just happened. There was something in the way Will went about that. If I didn't know better, I'd think he has a crush on me.

What's scary?

I was seconds from giving in when Will intervened.

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