I know, I write too many fics and never finish them, but all of that is due to a lack of imagination and inspiration but I'm feeling this one. The only downfall is that I won't continue it properly until I finish The Loyals. But I feel it's important to get this one out there already and for you to read, so please enjoy, and tell me what you think if you please! Thanks! :)

She's never been the kind of girl, or woman, who parties.

She drinks, of course, the occasional beer or glass of wine with her dinner, but she doesn't exactly make plans to go out on a bender and get hammered.

She's a doctor, has always wanted to be, has never wanted to be a party girl with a bad degree and a string of one night stands.

Hell, she doesn't have any one night stands. She doesn't have any night company.

April Kepner spends most of her Friday nights alone, usually tending to the ER or, if she happens to have the night off, she hangs around Joe's bar for an hour or so with her co-workers and her best friend.

This Friday, it just so happens that her Chief of Staff had given her the night off, since she'd spent at least a good 48 hours on shift, that was.

"Are you coming?"

She folds her scrub top up before placing it in her locker around spinning around to face her friend and colleague of five years. "I don't really feel like being a third wheel to you and Mark tonight."

Lexie Grey, fellow resident and aspiring neurosurgeon, raises a brow, leans against the door frame.

She was taller than April, her legs slightly longer, and her long dark brown hair cascaded down her shoulders like waves. Though she was a year younger than the rest of the fifth year residents, she'd managed to keep up with them and skip a year because of her genius, somewhat annoying, eidetic memory. Damn her.

"You won't be a third wheel. Mark invited Jackson. You know, that guy you tend to hang out with when I'm not there?"

April rolls her eyes, flicking her red hair behind her shoulder and folding her arms over her chest. "Oh, him? He's kind of annoying."

He's really not. He's her best friend, has been for a good six years. Only sometimes she wonders why, and how, they even became friends in the first place.

While she opted to dedicate herself to saving people and healing their wounds, he decided that rubbing lotion on his hands and touching people's naked bodies was a much better career choice.

"Shut up." Lexie laughs, shaking her head, "Come on. We'll just have a few drinks, and there's a fair in town as well. We'll meet them there. I know you love those."

"How did you know?" April grins, decided to close her locker and follow the brunette out into the hallway. "They better have cotton candy at this thing."

"How's it going, Kepner?"

She smiles as the older man wraps an arm around her shoulder, bringing her in for a hug.

Mark Sloan is an amazing, award-winning, much too proud plastic surgeon that just so happens to be dating her younger friend. He doesn't work at the hospital, only drops in for a few of his surgeries, because he'd decided to open up his own private practice, one where her best friend happened to work.

Actually, that was how Lexie and Mark had met. Through April and Jackson and their decision to hang out at Joe's on a random Friday night.

"I'm good," She pulls away with a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "how's business?"

"Expensive." He jokes, smugly grinning to himself and pulling Lexie into his side. "Rich people wanting other rich people to give them bigger boobs, Kepner. That's my business."

April nods, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets and licking her lips. "At least you're not rubbing your hands all over them every day."

"Are you mocking my job again?"

She turns at the sound of Jackson's voice, smiling to herself.

Jackson Avery was probably the best friend she'd ever had. He was the source of her words of wisdom when she needed them, and her sage advisor when she needed counseling. Basically, he was like the gay confidant every girl wanted. Only, he definitely wasn't gay and he was probably far better looking than most sidekicks.

She knows that it's probably not normal for them to be so close, but they're kind of intimate without any intimacy.

Surprisingly, she didn't complain when she was the one needing a massage.

"No."

"Whatever. I got your candy." He smirks and holds out a stick of cotton candy for her, quickly swiping a huge chunk of it off when she grabs it from him. He eats the sweet, licking his fingers when he's done and staring down at her. "Yum."

"You're such a pig." She nudges him, elbow to his ribs and he gasps.

"Nice, Kepner." Mark teases, kissing the top of Lexie's head before he glances around the brightly lit fair. "Okay, what do you girls wanna do?"

"I can't believe you made me come to this thing." Jackson complains, frowning as he trails behind the group.

April spins around to face him, walking backwards as she talks to him, "I didn't make you do anything. You heard I was coming and you agreed."

"You're right, I'm sorry. It must of been all that talk of cotton candy and ferris wheels that got to my head."

"And because I'm your friend?"

"And, of course, because of my love for my dear sweet April Kepner." He jokes, stepping into pace with her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walk behind the couple.

It might come across as strange, like they're together or in love or whatever. But they're not, never have been, definitely won't ever be.

She's never thought of him that way. Sure, at first, she'd noticed his indescribable good looks and handsome features, but she'd been swept away by him. He was her friend, that was all he would ever be, so she didn't see a point in imagining any other scenario.

"I've got it!"

April lifts her head from her candy at Lexie's exclamation, quickly catching sight of the the dark purple gazbeo set up across the lot.

"Come on, Grey, really?" Jackson pulls a face, lips curling downward and eyes squinty. "A psychic?"

The brunette turns, points a finger at him, "Hey, I happen to believe in spirituality, alright? It's not my fault you have no faith."

He rolls his eyes, lets his arm drop from April's shoulder, "Oh, I have faith. In medicine, in healing-"

"You make a living by relieving people's sore muscles, Jackson, I wouldn't exactly call you a great scientist." The redhead butts in.

"You're religious, you don't get a say!"

"Oh, I don't, do I not?" She folds her arms over her chest again, steps closer to him, ignoring the way Lexie stares back and forth between the two of them with a smile.

"Hey, how about you guys go first?" Mark suggests, raising a brow suggestively and tilting his head toward the dimly-lit tent. "I'm sure Lexie wouldn't mind."

Glancing up at her boyfriend of a year, the youngest of the bunch smirks knowingly with a nod, "Yeah."

April shrugs, shoulders dropping and arms unfolding as she moves forward, hand grabbing Jackson's to follow her.

"I am not going in there."

"For me? Please?" She pouts, head turning sideways to look up at him.

Jackson sighs, though he fails to hide the faint smirk toying on his lips. "If she tells me that I'm gonna run into a tall dark stranger then I'm out."

She giggles, leans into him as he pulls aside the curtain to enter the tent.

Yes, she has faith. In science and in a higher power, in Him. But she also likes to imagine that ghosts and predictions and everything a little supernatural could be real somehow.

"Oh, great, she's got a freaking snowglobe as a prop." The darker skinned man groans, eyeing the crystal ball on her table. There's a strange almost vintage tablecloth covering the old wooden bench and she has a bunch of cards laid out on one side of the ball, waiting for them to be turned.

"Can you be nice, please?" April asks quietly before they reach the woman's table, before she overhears Jackson's scepticism and kicks them out.

The green-eyed man nods, licking his lips and sticking a hand out, motioning for her to go forward first.

April sits down in one of the chairs their side, and she smiles, holding out a hand to shake, "Hello."

"Silence, please."

The redhead slouches back, hand retracted and she sends her best friend a death glare when he coughs back a laugh.

"Okay." April remains tight-lipped. She places her hands in her lap, fingers tapping together and she crosses her legs beneath the table.

Jackson sits beside her, leaning back in his seat and arms crossing over his chest as he takes in his surroundings. He bites down on his lower lip as he looks around, spotting a skeleton in the corner of her 'office'. He frowns, turning back to look over at a silent and patient April. He leans closer, voice close to her ear, "I'm not buying it."

"Shh."

April scolds him, elbowing his side again and creases his brows at his chuckle.

"Give me your hand."

April smiles, happily holding out her palm until the older woman swats her hands away, her cluttered rings sharp against her skin.

"Not you, you." She tilts her head toward Jackson, eyeing the man with a nod.

"Nah, I'm good." He shakes his head, crinkles his lips and swallows a breath.

"Give her your hand."

"No, just-" He gets cut off when April reaches for his hand, shoving it forward into the psychic's awaiting palm. "Argh, come on."

"I see a bright future."

He smirks, knowingly rolling his eyes, "Oh, here we go." He teases, clearly not buying her story already. He's a skeptic, always has been, and he's definitely not going to change his ways because some crazy old lady with a scarf and a glass ball tells him to.

"You will find a great love in your life."

"Well, I did have some pretty good love last night." Jackson jokes, receiving another nudge from his friend's bony elbow.

"He has a different girl in his bed every night." April explains thoughtfully, as though the woman has to know.

"Every week." He corrects her, "Not every night."

"Whatever, that's just as bad!"

"Silence." The elder woman taps his hand and Jackson grimaces, clearly tempted to pull his hand away before she starts blabbering nonsense. "I see... She will be your everything. She will be loud, yet soft."

"Sure." Still not buying it, he smiles at the woman like a child to his mother. Maybe if he plays along, she'll give up.

"With bright hair. You will need to be her hero."

"Alright."

"Have you ever loved?"

"Are you hitting on me?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Don't think so." He replies truthfully. At least he's pretty sure he hasn't. He would know, right? It's supposed to be some grand and great feeling like no other, right? Yeah, he's never been in love.

"You will love her. Like no other. You will need her, but she will have some... complications."

"Like a disease, or-"

"Be careful with your heart, Jackson."

"Wait, how did you-"

She drops his hands then, her fingers stop running over his palm, and she shifts her gaze to the redhead.

"You."

"How did you know my name?" Jackson pries, pushing himself forward, closer to the table.

"That is of no importance." She shrugs him off, tenderly tracing the lines down the younger woman's hand, "You."

"Yes?" April smiles, clearly eager to hear her reading.

If Jackson is going to be lucky enough to find love, then she'd like something just as nice to happen to her. Maybe she'll win the lottery? Or maybe the woman knows if she's going to pass her Boards? Maybe she'll even find love herself? What if-

"You are dying."

Jackson holds back a laugh, leans back again and glances at the petite friend beside him, "Oh, look how that turned out."

"I'm sorry, I'm going to what?"

"In twelve days. Short, but- I am terribly sorry." She drops her hand, moves away from the table and stands.

Maybe she was wrong. Wasn't she supposed to use her cards or something?

"You must leave."

"What, no! You just told me I was gonna die!"

"Leave."

"April, come on-"

"No! She just said- Am I dying?"

"You must go now."

"Come on, let's go."

He grabs her hand as he stands, quickly pulling the redhead to her feet and bringing her alongside him as he turns to leave. When she starts to turn back toward the tent, he wraps an arm around her shoulders and pushes her out.

"Jackson."

"Hey, it's fine, come on. We'll go home."

They quickly make their way over to Mark and Lexie, who look like they've just done something mildly suspicious in public. April can't help but frown, clearly distraught by the woman's words.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"April's a little... shook up, right now." Jackson explains, running a hand up and down the smaller woman's arm.

Lexie lets go of her boyfriend shirt, instead resting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "What happened in there?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." She tells her.

She's not a dramatic person by nature, but when someone tells you that you're going to die then you kind of get a little stressed out.

"Avery, take her home. She looks like she could use a beer or something."

"I- I'm fine."

"April, let me take you home."

"Okay."

"What am I supposed to do, Jackson? I just-"

"Will you just relax?" He tends out a beer, nodding his head for her to sit down, "You're going to be fine. If if comes down to it, then I'll help you out, okay? But right now, you're alive, and breathing and obviously delusional."

"I'm tired."

"You're a surgeon, you're supposed to be."

April licks her lips, takes a small sip of her beer before she places the bottle back down on his coffee table.

"And I'm aching."

He smirks, leaving his bottle on the table before he heads off into his bathroom after she speaks. He emerges a few seconds later with a yellow bottle in his hand. "Why, Miss Kepner, I do believe you're supposed to be naked right about now."

"Are you trying to get me naked?"

"Well, you're basically offering yourself to me on a platter." He informs her, kneeling down on his couch and dropping the small sun coloured bottle beside him.

She kneels too, hands on her hips and she unbuttons her jeans before she starts to pull them down her legs.

She manoeuvres on the couch until she lies in just a pair of panties and her bra, flipped over on her stomach.

It's an odd friendship they share.

One where he, a thirty-two year old male who enjoys his flings and rounds of casual sex, is somehow the only person who she, the thirty year old virgin who never engages in any sort of activity, allows to see her partially naked and free to touch.

"I should make a list."

"A list?" He squeezes the yellow bottle between his hands, squirting some of the clear golden liquid onto his hands. "Like a bucket list?"

"Exactly. A short but smart compilation of things that I would like to do before I die."

"Oh, here we go again. April, you're not going to die."

She shifts to lie comfortably on his couch, face pressing into the cushions, ones she'd bought when they'd gone shopping to furnish his new apartment.

"If I die, you have to help me do all of these things."

"When you die, I probably won't be too far behind since we'll be old and saggy and on the brink of death anyways. Hell, we'll probably already have zimmer-frames and false teeth by then."

"Jackson, I'm serious!"

"So am I!"

He moves his hands down her back, spreading his fingers and digging them into her sides. He runs them back up her shoulder-blades as she softly moans, pressing her face further into the pillow.

"You like that, Doctor?"

"Shut up."

They remain in silence for awhile, the only sounds being her breathing and the oil squirting out of the bottle onto his hands.

He doesn't know why she even likes, or claims to need, the oil. Her skin is soft, much like a baby's and he's not sure that she even needs to add any lotion to it. He's kind of memorised the feel of her skin by now, his fingertips tainted by the touch of her flesh.

"You have more money than I do." She speaks suddenly, clearly trying to use his status as an heir to a fortune as an argument.

"And?"

"And I might need to go all out on this thing. You could be my personal bank."

"You plan on sponging off me?"

"No..."

"April."

"You said you'd help me."

"Precisely."

His hands are all over her body as he talks. No, it's not because they're together. And no, they don't have some lame friends-with-benefits-you-do-me-I-do-you situation going on.

He's a masseuse. His hands are always all over people's bodies all the time and he gets paid for it. Only she gets to feel his million-dollar hands for free and she can't complain about that (especially not with a knot the size of Russia in her neck).

"I said I would help you choose stuff, I never said I'd join in and pay for everything."

The redhead rolls her eyes, turning her head to the side and pressing her cheek deeper into the pillow. She peeks up at him with a soft smile, "What if it's my dying wish?"

"Your dying wish is to be a gold digger?"

She kicks her leg then, from behind and up at his chest, but he grabs her calf suddenly and stops her from moving.

"Don't do it."

She sometimes thinks he should have been a cop.

But he hates cops, mostly because of that one she dated about a month ago who tried a little too hard to get into her pants.

Though he knows that he's the only one who's ever been between her legs. Granted, it included oil (not in a dirty way), and his hands (still not in a dirty way), and a tip (definitely not in a dirty way), but he's still proud of that fact.

"I'm not a gold digger. I just want my best friend to help me before I die."

"Well, your best friend finds it crazy that you believed some ridiculous psychic in a tent, but-"

"It was a gazebo!"

"She was insane!"

There's new, fresh oil on his hands, and she knows this because his fingertips run along the low of her back, a little too close to her butt than she would like, and she's warmer than before.

"You say that now, but you're gonna call me one day with some girl problem, and I'm not gonna be able to pick up the phone because I'll be dead. Then how bad will you feel?"

"Not as bad as that psychic is gonna feel when you live, and we sue her ass."

She holds back a laugh, knows that he's smirking behind her. She can feel it from the way his thumbs dig into her sides, his skin burning her flesh delightfully and loosening her tense muscles.

"Jackson-"

"You're not gonna die."

"But, what if-"

"Look, if it means that much to you, then I'll do it. Okay?"

"Thank you."

"Yeah." He breathes out, palms lifting from her greased body and grinning down at her, "Flip."

April moves, resting on her elbows as she leans back on her butt to face him.

"Okay, first off. I want to go camping."

"Camping?" He groans, shaking his head, "Come on, Doc, you gotta think outside of the box."

April rolls her eyes, biting on her bottom lip as she slumps down to lie on the couch, watching as he runs his hands across her stomach.

It's weird when he touches her. Because no one else ever does. Because there's only him. Because it's intimate and she has intimacy issues, but not when he touches her.

"I want to... Witness a miracle." She starts off, smiling up at him.

"Alright, yeah, that's more like it." Jackson grins, hands trailing down her abdomen to the top of her panties, fingers pressing into her skin delicately. "What else?"

"Get arrested."

"So you want to become a criminal while you're also witnessing miracles?"

"I plan on living life to the fullest." She explains, spreading her arms as he leans across her, hands moving down her shoulders. "Be kissed wildly."

"You've never been kissed?"

"Of course I've been kissed, just not like... Like that, you know? Well, of course you know, you're you. But I haven't..."

"No, I know, you haven't..." He grins, all teeth and tongue as he hints at her suggestion.

April sighs, closing her eyes, "No one has ever pinned me to a wall, or held me a certain way."

It's weird, to talk to him about this, to discuss it. But she's never shy around him, never has been, so she doesn't know why she would be now.

"Next. I want... I want to lose my virginity."

Jackson backs away then, a slight frown on his face, "What?"

"What?" She feigns innocence, peeking up at him through long lashes. Then again, there isn't really anything innocent about their current situation.

"April."

"Jackson."

"You promised. I don't think you should be breaking that promise just because some crazy woman says you're gonna kick the bucket."

"It's not that- It's- Okay, it's not just that. I want to feel it, alright? I mean, I think I deserve it at this point."

"So, what, you're just gonna find some guy and screw him?"

"I will deal with that bridge when I reach it." She confirms, nodding her twice with a smile up at him, "So, what else?"

"How about visiting the Space Needle, you've been wanting to do that for years and you still haven't gotten around to it?"

"Yes! Okay, that was a good one."

"You're not gonna tell me that you wanna get married within the next twelve days, right? I mean, you can, I can get to Lake Tahoe in thirteen hours, but-"

"No! No, Jackson. Thank you very much, but I am fine single. I don't wanna get married. I mean, because then I'd be leaving a widower and a huge mess to clean up after."

"You're not dying."

April points a finger up at him, "You don't know that!"

"Maybe not, but you do! You're a freaking doctor, April, I like to think you'd know if you were dying."

"Maybe not. I could get hit by a bus, or get mugged by a serial killer-"

"Oh, God." Jackson shakes his head with a heavy breath, applying more oil to his hands before he runs them down her legs, stopping at her knees.

Another silence overtakes them as she continues to lay in a blissful peace, feeling delicate hands skim over her flesh.

"I want to have my heart broken."

His green eyes light up at that one, clearly amused with her request, "You have high demands, Doctor."

"Well, I have a right, given I'm gonna be dead in twelve days and all."

"You're not going to die."

"We'll see."