So here's my new AU story. Background you might want to know: Kate is not a fugitive, Christian is obviously, and this is Jack seventh months post-Sarah, and he never went nuts after their divorce, though he is still a little wounded. Read and enjoy...

From where Jack was standing, he could just barely make out the words his father slurred.

"How about a refill, Miss?" Christian Shepherd ran a wandering hand slowly up the young waitresses arm, then let it glide back down and settle on her hip.

Jack watched with mild curiosity, waiting for the inevitable mindless giggle to spout from the waitress' mouth, but nothing came. Instead, he watched—interest now piqued—as she shook of his father's advances, rolling her eyes in disgust and turning to walk away. In a flash, Christian's hand shot out, fingers wrapping like a vice around the young woman's arm, holding her in place.

The half-empty drink in his hand sloshed over the side as he stood up from his barstool and got dangerously close to the brunette's mouth.

"Come on, just another drink? Then maybe I can give you a tour of the town…" He breathed, and Jack knew that his father was starting to draw stares. And at a hospital event—at their family's country club—was the last place Christian Shepherd should be drawing stares.

Jack's body tensed, waiting for the moment when he knew he'd have to intervene. He watched the waitress remain stoic, eyeing the kitchen doors over her shoulder—seemingly waiting for rescue—just as his father's hand slipped lower on her arm and curved around to cup her rear.

Jack took a few long strides across the room and intercepted his father's advances, pushing him gently back into his seat and uncurling the glass from his grip. Christian did not seem perturbed, only petulant.

"Oh come on, Jack. There's no need to make a scene." Christian chided, but Jack only rolled his eyes, not dignifying the remark with a retort. He turned towards the waitress.

"I'm sorry about that." Jack offered, gesturing back to his father. "Sometime he can get a little out of hand, but he means no harm."

The waitress, a brunette with a striking set of green eyes, and—Jack noticed at once—a striking, lithe, physique, only rolled her eyes, setting a hand on her hip.

"Should I get the refill or not?" She asked acidly, annoyed and impatient. Jack blinked a few times.

"I'm sorry?"

She sighed. "The drink? Your friend here wanted another."

Jack shook his head, "He's not my friend, he's—"

"Sir, I don't need an explanation. This happens all the time, it's fine. But I've got other tables, so if he wants—"

Jack put a hand up to stop her. "No, no, he won't be needing another one. Sorry about that."

She smiled tightly and made a move to leave before Jack's hand shot out and touched her arm, making her recoil immediately. He took a step back quickly, realizing his mistake and smiling awkwardly.

"Sorry. I was just…what's your name?"

For the first time since Jack had started talking with her, the young woman seemed to lose her steely composure, once again eye flitting to the kitchen doors, this time she seemed to be waiting for a shouting manager to come through the doors instead of rescue from the lecherous drunk at the bar.

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." She said, words rushed and in hushed tones. Misinterpreting Jack's confused look, she continued hurriedly, "Please, I really need this job—"

"No, no, it's not that. I was just curious, that's all. I'm not gonna get you fired or anything." Jack corrected, laughing lightly, trying to make her feel better.

She looked around, uncomfortable. "It's Kate. My name's Kate."

Jack extended his name. "Jack Shepherd."

Kate eyed his hand a moment, noticing the glint off of his undoubtedly expensive watch, before taking it.

He smiled, looking pleased, before dropping her hand after a moment too long, settling back on his heels and thrusting his hands into his suit pockets and smiling. Kate watched him suspiciously a moment longer before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Excuse me." Kate said softly after another long moment of silence, then turned, slipping away to the kitchen.

Jack watched her go, looking after he thoughtfully before a muffled grunt behind him caught his attention. His father.

"Jack—can you get the valet? I think I'm going to call it night." Christian slurred, slumping at an awkward angle on his barstool, making Jack laugh ruefully.

"You're not driving anywhere, Dad. I'll take you home."

Christian waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense, call me a cab."

Jack sighed. "Dad—"

"A cab, Jack."

Christian Shepherd was not a man to be argued with on a good day. On an evening like this, three sheets to the wind and already to the point of hitting on waitresses thirty years his junior—Jack knew that the time for small battles was over.

"Alright. You win. I'll get you a cab." Jack surrendered, signaling another waitress over and asking her to have a cab called for his father who, Jack reported, "was a little under the weather."

She nodded, eyeing the older man and scurrying away. Jack wondered how long it would take for the staff gossip to circulate. Hopefully not until after all the event's guests had gone home for the evening.

Jack had been reluctant to attend the cocktail party at all, but after both his father and mother had left messages on his machine encouraging him to attend, he'd sighed, put the unopened beer back in the fridge, re-straightened his tie, and had headed back out. The route to the country club was ingrained in his system, the turns automatic as he took them and then rounded up the long drive to the Brentwood Country Club, tucked away into the hills of Los Angeles.

Now Jack, who'd been one of the last guests to leave after shaking hands with all the attendees—effectively cleaning up after his father's minor mishap—was waiting for the valet to bring his car around.

Just as the freckly young teenager took his tag and set off to retrieve Jack's sleek yet unassuming black Hybrid, the doors opened behind him and out come the same waitress his father had so recklessly hit on only hours before.

She was fiddling inside her purse and only looked up after Jack cleared his throat. She looked surprised, and he raised his eyebrows amused.

"Hi." He tried, smiling crookedly.

She straightened, hands subconsciously going to smooth the fabric of her clingy uniform.

"Hi." She said softly, looking around nervously, then readjusting her purse strap.

"The valet just went for my car, but I'm sure he'll be back in sec." Jack tried again, hoping to elicit some sort of response.

"I'm not waiting for the valet." She said evenly, arms crossing over her chest as her eyes switched straight ahead.

He nodded, waiting for her to continue. "So…" He trailed, shuffling a few steps to be in line with her.

"I'm just waiting for my roommate. She's picking me up."

Jack smiled. "Carpooling, huh? You know they say global warming—"

"Look, you don't have to do this." She interrupted, looking both sympathetic and wary.

"What happened early happens all the time. Really. You don't have to try and make yourself feel better by befriending the working girl." Kate's tone had turned biting in an instant and Jack struggled to keep up.

"What? No. It's—it's not like that. It's not like that at all. I was only trying to make—"

"You're a doctor right?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah."

"And that guy in there? That was, what, you friend? Your mentor or something?"

He swallowed, eyes finding his feet. "No, actually, that was, um, my father."

Jack watched the surprise and the regret register in the brunette's eyes before she shook them away, jaw clenching and unclenching.

"Either way. I see guys like you come in every day. I get it. That watch you're wearing is probably worth about what I make in a year at this place, so don't bother trying to be friendly."

Jack's eyebrows had risen considerably during her diatribe and only now did he feel the full weight of his surprise register. "I see." He said dumbly, feet shuffling uncomfortably.

The waitress's eyes, once steely, seemed to soften. She sighed laboriously and let her arms uncross.

"Hey, I didn't—I'm sorry. It's been a long day."

Jack waved a hand to stop her. "It's okay, I get it. No need to explain."

She watched him a moment longer before a beat-up brown sedan rolled up to the valet station. The passenger window of the brown sedan rolled down and a young blonde woman leaned across the driver's seat to call out.

"Kate! Hurry up, I've got a night shift in half an hour."

Kate hesitated a moment, looking at Jack regretfully, before scampering towards the car. Just as she opened the door, prepared to get inside, he called out.

"Hey, when are you working again?"

Her fingers fluttered on the door. "Why?"

Jack ducked his head, smiling bashfully. "I don't know."

He could make out the hurried voice of the blonde woman inside the car, and could see Kate's uniform being tugged by the same blonde woman's hand.

Kate bit her lip, looking at Jack as if she had something more to say. But all that came out after a breath was a soft, "Bye."

He waved back at her morosely, smiling ruefully. "Bye."

When Jack got up the following morning, a Saturday, he did what he always did on Saturday mornings. He rolled out of bed at 9:30, went for a morning run, stopped and picked up breakfast, came home and read the paper, showered, dressed, and ran errands. Some Saturday evenings he'd meet Marc for a beer, or put in a few extra hours at the hospital, mostly on paperwork.

But overall, Jack's schedule was like clockwork. And really had been all his life, but never as calculated as it was now. Sarah was gone. She'd been gone for seven months, and the only way Jack figured he'd manage was to stick to a very strict schedule.

But this Saturday was different. For the first time in months Jack woke up late—around eleven—and skipped his run. Instead, he took a quick shower and walked the fourteen blocks to the Brentwood Country Club. For the first time in months, his interest was piqued. For the first time in months he felt the tiny niggle of intrigue in his stomach. For the first time in months he wanted to try something new.

Jack realized at once that he'd underdressed once he stepped through the regal wooden doors of the Brentwood Country Club. He was wearing jeans, a dark t-shirt, a distressed jacket, and trainers, but the club's golfers were just arriving for lunch, decked out in plaid and seersucker jackets.

Shrugging off the minor detail of his attire, Jack strode purposefully over to the maitre d'.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Shepherd. I'm afraid you'll need a jacket to dine in the--"

"I'm just looking for someone. A waitress here. Kate, her name is."

The maitre d' raised a skeptical eyebrow at Jack, giving him a thorough and obvious once over before signaling over a busboy, whispering in his ear, and watching the pimply teenager scamper off in the direction of the kitchen.

"Is there a problem, sir?" The maitre d' asked, hands folding together as he leaned towards Jack.

Jack smiled easily, "No, no problem. I just wanted to speak to her a moment, I wasn't sure if she was working today."

The maitre d' nodded skeptically, but remained polite. "Of course, Dr. Shepherd."

After another brief moment, Jack watched as the kitchen doors swung open and there she was. In the same uniform as last night, hair held back in an efficient ponytail, but one that didn't seem to stop the few stray curls from framing her face. She was wiping her hands on a dishtowel and nearly dropped it when she looked up and saw him, her mouth opening and closing a moment before she walked toward him.

"Hi, Kate." Jack proffered, smiling proudly and rocking back on his heels, ignoring the blatant stare coming from the maitre d'. Kate eyed her superior nervously.

"Hi." She mumbled, wringing the dishtowel in her hands.

"I—uh…" Jack eyed the maitre d', "Do you think we could have a moment?" Jack asked, turning to the man and giving him an imploring look. The man looked between them once more before nodding and walking back towards the kitchen.

Kate seemed to relax, if only infinitesimally, when her boss disappeared.

"What are you doing here?" She hissed, walking towards the lobby, Jack close on her heels.

"I'm a member here."

Kate shot him a look.

"Okay, I wanted to see you again." Jack said earnestly.

"Why?" She asked incredulously, as if it was the last possible thing Jack could want—to see her again, to find the little waitress at the big country club and sweep her away with statements like that.

Jack shuffled, shrugging. "I don't know."

She laughed harshly. "You keep saying that."

"I've only said it twice."

"Yeah, but to all the important questions."

The banter they fell into surprised Jack, but he decided not to focus too hard on it in fear of making it disappear before he figured out what it was about this woman he was so intrigued by.

"Listen, I haven't done this in a while. A long while. So why don't you humor me, just this once."

Kate shook her head, confused. "Haven't done what in a while?"

He blushed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Ask a woman out on a date."

She laughed, hard. "Is that what you're trying to do?"

Jack blushed harder, ears turning pink. "What's so funny about that?"

Kate wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye, keeping her giggles down. "I'm sorry, it's just—we met because you had to pull your drunk dad's hand off my ass before his buddies caught him. You can't write that stuff."

"It's not like that."

Kate crossed her arms over her chest, leaning her weight onto one side. "You keep saying that, too."

"He's not some drunken maniac, either. He had one too many, but he wasn't going to rape you or anything."

Kate raised an eyebrow at his defensiveness, but stood unmoving. "Well he copped a pretty good feel."

Jack bit his tongue, turning agitated. "This was a bad idea." He turned to go, feeling the first sense of lightness he'd felt in months start to wither away.

"Wait." Kate called out, and he stopped, but didn't turn.

"I get off in an hour."

Jack turned at that, eyes and body wary.

"So what, you want to…I don't know, go for coffee or something?" Jack tried, finding that his voice was failing now that the moment he'd come for had arrived.

Kate grinned, seeming amused at his nervousness.

"How old are you?"

Relaxing, Jack rolled his eyes. "Thirty-four. What about you?"

She shrugged. "Twenty-five."

Jack shuffled his feet. "So…coffee?"

Kate bit her lip and fiddled with the dishtowel in her hands. "Well, I don't have time for coffee. But if you want to entertain me while I run some errands, fine."

Jack thought a moment, throat bobbing. "Okay."

She brightened. "Okay. I'll be done in an hour." She turned to reenter the club's restaurant, stopping and turning to look back at him over her shoulder. She grinned, then said matter-of-factly: "You can drive."

Please review! I'll try and update soon, but hopefully I'll feel motivated if there's some good responses. Up next: their errand run/date, a glimpse into Kate's personal life, and FLUFF!