Logan Mitchell, Dr. Mitchell, sighs as yet another patient, high on the excitement of Halloween night, steps through the doors of the emergency room. Most of the people he's seen today have been in their mid- to late twenties and sporting cuts and small breaks from various accidents. Most of them have been a bit intoxicated and more than a bit rowdy. Most of them have made his job that much harder, while simultaneously complaining about every little thing.

Halloween has never been Logan's favorite night, and it's doubled in unpleasantness since he graduated medical school (top of his class) and got swept into the world of the ER.

Of course, he wouldn't give his job up for the world, especially not when he actually gets something worthwhile done. Something that makes a difference; not just stitches from a Halloween scare gone wrong. There are times when he feels useful, more useful than he ever has before, and it's something he relishes.

"Dr. Mitchell?"

Logan looks up from the cup of coffee in his hand at the nurse standing in the doorway, looking curious. She smiles when he meets her eyes and he clears his throat, shaking his head and setting the mug on the counter, "What is it?"

"There's a patient in 106."

"Another accident?"

"I think all ER visits are accidents, Dr. Mitchell."

"Right, of course." Logan rolls his eyes at the cheeky grin and takes one last longing look at his coffee, which will be cold and ineffective when he returns. The nurse smiles understandingly as she pushes the door to the staff room open wide enough for Logan to slip through.

Room 106 is a floor down and Logan passes several rows of windows on his way, all of them showing a dark sky and an empty street. Even the older Halloween goers have given up and gone back to their houses and their house parties where they're sure to drink and more accidents are sure to happen. Someone will have to have their stomach pumped, someone will need yet another cut sewn shut, and someone will have to have the obligatory broken nose.

Because that's what happens every Halloween night.

He's only been working the ER for two years, but he already knows how it works.

It's almost a relief to finally reach the room, since Logan's thoughts are spiraling into something close to self pity. Steeling himself, because he'll need all the nerve he can get to deal with yet another drunk patient, he pushes the door open and steps into the room. There's a moment of silence as he waits for the patient (or, possibly a friend) to make some sort of joke or "I know it's but, but I can explain" comment, but nothing of the sort happens. Instead, Logan is forced to turn around and face whoever is sitting on the bed, which turns out to be a guy around his age with blonde hair and pretty eyes. The guy grins easily at the sight Logan, though he's bleeding heavily from a cut above his eye.

For a long time, Logan forgets that he's supposed to be taking charge. All he can focus on is the guy's smile and how handsome he is and just how good he probably looks under his shirt. For a long time, he forgets to do something socially acceptable, until the guy goes from smiling to frowning and Logan is jolted back into the reality of the situation; he's a doctor and he has a patient to deal with.

"Sorry, long night." He apologizes and shakes his head, holding out a hand for the guy to shake, "I'm Logan Mitchell, Dr. Mitchell actually, I'll be checking you out."

"You'll be checking me out?" The guy quirks a brow and Logan's mouth drops open as he realizes the implications of his words and the implications of the guy's expression.

"I'll be examining your forehead." Logan corrects himself and the guy laughs, a really sexy laugh that Logan wants to hear over and over again for forever. It makes him smile and almost laugh himself, though the amount of blood spilling down the guy's forehead is alarming.

"Aren't you a little young to be a doctor?"

"I'm not any younger than you-" Logan looks at the guy expectantly and the guy takes his hand quickly, laughing a little at the situation. For a moment, Logan is embarrassed that he left his own hand sticking out, but he quickly chases that thought away and laughs along with the blonde.

"Kendall Knight."

"Well, would you like to tell me what happened, Kendall?" Logan pulls his hand back and leans in, peering at the cut, "This looks pretty nasty."

"Yeah, well." Kendall shrugs and winces as Logan begins cleaning the cut with alcohol, "It's Halloween."

"That's your excuse?"

"Is it not good enough?"

"No," Logan sighs, remembering his previous patients, "It is."

"What's the verdict?" Kendall questions and Logan throws the bloody tissues away and looks around for a bandage, swearing under his breath when he finds an empty box instead.

"No stitches for you." Logan reassures him, patting his pockets in case he's stuck some extra bandages in them. When this also proves useless he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, holding a finger up and heading towards the door, "I need to go find some bandages."

"I think I can get my own bandage." Kendall snorts.

"I'm the doctor."

"Please, you're too young."

"Oh yeah, why do you say that?" Logan stops with a hand on the doorknob and turns to face Kendall, not sure whether he's offended or interested in what Kendall has to say. The blonde leans back slightly, like he's about to unleash something life altering, something that will make Logan rethink his whole situation.

"Because, as you said earlier, you're the same age as me. And I," Kendall pauses for dramatic effect, "Am a waiter."

It's Logan's turn to snort, because it's the lamest reason he's ever heard. When Kendall looks offended he rolls his eyes and pulls open the door, "Trust me, that has nothing to do with your age."

He doesn't stay to hear Kendall's annoyed reply, just heads towards the nearest nurse with a plea for bandages. She searches her scrubs for a moment before producing one, handing it to him with a smile and a nod towards the door, "He's cute, isn't he?" When Logan balks she laughs and pats him on the shoulder, muttering about how he shouldn't be ashamed, since apparently all the nurses have been in to see "the cute one" in 106. It's news to Logan, since Kendall doesn't look like a guy who's been ogled by nurses.

"You mean you-" But she's gone and Logan can only grip his bandage in a fist a little too tightly clenched and head back to the room, where Kendall is sulking on the bed. His arms are crossed and his smile is only tugging at the corners of his lips, instead of stretching his cheeks like it was before. Logan closes the door with a soft click and holds up the bandage, now slightly crinkled, as if it's some sort of prize.

"I got one."

"Good for you, Dr. Mitchell." Kendall can't help the smile this time, even Logan can see him lose the fight as it breaks across his face again, "You're an asshole, Logan."

"I wouldn't say that to the guy taking care of you."

"At least you won't ever have the opportunity to spit in my food." Kendall counters, smirking at Logan's wrinkled nose. He peels the bandage off of it's wrapper and sticks it to Kendall's forehead, ignoring the comment for the moment as he makes sure it covers the whole cut.

"You're right." He pulls back and inspects his handiwork, "I won't."

"Winchester Street."

"What?"

"I work at the diner on the corner of Winchester Street." Kendall explains and Logan can feel his cheeks hit up at the implication, even as he throws the bandage paper away and responds (with a level voice, thank god).

"You won't spit in my food?"

"Scout's honor."

Kendall's quirky little smile is enough to make Logan's heart beat faster as he runs a hand through his hair and looks down at the tiled floor, "That's good."

"Something wrong, Dr.?"

"Well, it sounds like you could be spitting in the food of any one of these nurses, is all."

Logan looks up when Kendall laughs, like he actually thinks it's funny, and the color rushes into his cheeks again. He tries to protest or argue the point, but his own mortification keeps the words from getting past his throat. All he can do is wait for Kendall to calm down, which takes a lot longer than Logan likes.

"You think I care about the nurses?" Kendall finally manages to demand and Logan frowns, feeling a bit hurt. Even he has to admit that some of the nurses have a certain appeal about them that, if he hadn't seen them do their work, might be a little dangerous.

"They seem to care about you." Logan shoots and Kendall, fully under control, shrugs happily.

"They can eat their hearts out; my spit isn't for everyone."

"Really?" Logan cocks an eyebrow and Kendall throws a hand over his heart.

"Really."

"Winchester Street?"

"Winchester Street."

"And only a little spit?"

"Only a little spit."

Logan smiles softly as Kendall slips off the bed and slips past Logan on his way to the door, their arms brushing for a fraction of a second. Logan's whole body tingles and prickles at the small bit of contact, like he has a live wire running through his veins.

"I'll see you there."

"I'd like that."

The door closes with a click and Logan is left in the middle of the room with his body dancing and sparking and a need, a deep, deep need, to head down to the diner on Winchester Street.