Hi all! Haven't written in quite some time so apologies if I'm a bit rusty. Hope you enjoy this story!

A bar, two old friends; one a paramedic, the other a doctor, enjoying a drink, getting up to old tricks:

"Her."

"Oh come on, make it more challenging would you? All I'd have to do is flutter my eyes at her and she'd fall. "

Matthew took a sip of his drink. "For you? "

"Yeah"

There was a pause.

"Why'd you say that?"

Jackson didn't look at his friend, and instead kept his gaze locked on the riveting red head at the far end of the bar.

"I know her type, and I'll tell you her story. She was the nerd back in high school. Until she suddenly grew some boobs and her figure filled out which suddenly put her in the hot category. Her figure grew, certainly, but her-self esteem didn't."

Something flickered in Matthew's eyes, which went unnoticed by Jackson.

"So you think she'd go for any guy." Mathew made it a statement, not a question.

Jackson narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "No, not any guy, maybe not." He paused, thinking. "No, she wouldn't go for any guy." He said again, straightening up in his seat, this time sounding more sure.

He glanced at Matthew and gave a sudden grin. "But she'd definitely go for me. "

Matthew gave a bark of laughter. "Certainly think a lot of yourself Avery. "

Jackson smirked. "If I don't, who will?"

Matthew shook his head. Some things never changed. Jackson Avery had always been a player. His ability to entice girls with those dewy blue eyes of his had always been nothing short of amazing. For a guy who was so averse to taking advantage of his prestigious family name, Avery had no problem taking advantage of his God given good looks when it came to the opposite sex. Back in college, Matthew had unwittingly become a sidekick to this little game Jackson had invented. Whilst hanging out at a bar, out of pure boredom, Jackson had asked Matthew to pick a girl for Jackson to try and charm. Matthew, part half-drunk and part bored himself, had gone along with it, and it had become this…this thing, that had kept happening every time they hit a bar. Matthew, having always been the straight shooter with the steady girlfriend, sometimes hated himself for it, as he didn't think it was fair to the girls. But for some mysterious reason, every girl that Avery charmed and ended up sleeping with, then dating for maybe two weeks maximum, had never seemed to hold a grudge against him afterwards. Heck, the guy ended up becoming friends with most of them and, Matthew knew, still kept in touch with some of them.

Matthew scrutinized his friend thoughtfully. The two old college buddies, now fully grown men with responsible jobs that kept them apart for most of the year, had decided to catch up whilst Jackson was in Seattle scoping out a nearby hospital that his family's medical foundation was interested in acquiring. Avery wasn't a bad dude. Far from it; the guy had a big heart and was loyal almost to a fault. Matthew had never once seen him throw his money around like some other rich assholes he had been around in his life. Jackson was one of the most down to earth people he knew, someone he could always count on to have his back. He just got a little conceited when it came to his ability to almost instantly charm any woman he wanted, which is precisely why Matthew was certain that the idea that had started to form in his mind the minute Jackson had asked him to pick a girl would work.

The girl in question, the topic of their current discussion, now sat at the other end of the bar, head bowed so that a sheet of her red hair covered her pale face.

"Yup, she would go for me" He heard Jackson murmur to himself.

"Go on, then" Matthew nodded at Jackson, bowing his head towards the girl in a way that said, prove it.

"So, I have this story…"

He was soft spoken, she decided. Not because he was afraid to raise his voice, but because he knew how much more of a statement he made when he didn't. Every word rolled off his tongue with a quiet confidence, yet it didn't threaten, didn't challenge, only invited; invited conversation, lighthearted banter, even a drink or two at the bar…

And then…

She'd be right where he wanted her. Blindsided.

Jackson let his gaze touch her gentle features as he spoke, catching the way her skin glowed underneath the dim lighting, the way her hair, the color of sunrises and red constellations, framed her delicate face, a few wisps caressing it lightly here and there. He tilted his head slightly to peek into her eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of their color, and felt a slight twinge of disappointment when she hooded her gaze, seemingly losing herself in the dark depths of the swirling drink in her hand.

"I hear well."

She said. Her voice had a husky tone to it, and he had listened to people long enough in his life to know that the huskiness could only have resulted from pent up emotions. Whatever she was trying say was important to her; something she had struggled to articulate for some time now, but never knew how to.

She cleared her throat; slender hands trembling slightly as she gently pushed her drink away from her.

"I hear well."

She said again, her voice stronger this time, firm, filled with resolve.

"Extraordinarily well." She almost whispered, and he leaned into hear better, fascinated.

This isn't how he had imagined this going at all. He had expected nerves, stuttering, a loss for words, a faint tinge to her cheeks as he persuaded her to look into his eyes, the way it always went with girls like her. Girls who looked inexperienced and naive enough to blush and look flustered the minute he turned on his charm.

But not this.

"But they say that that's normal. That all your other senses suddenly become more fine tuned when you go blind."

She dropped the bomb.

He sucked in a breath.

Oh shit.

"Suddenly you can smell the world and sense when someone is standing out of your line of vision. Your brain grows on the inside, and things on the outside start to matter less."

She said softly, and he swallowed, tilting his head once more to glance into her eyes, not because of curiosity, not because he was an unfeeling bastard with the sole intention of snaking a look to see whether her blindness was discernible by her eyes, but because he felt this sudden urge to gaze into her soul.

"Someone read that quote from an essay to me once."

She clarified.

He watched, struggling to find something to say, as she lithely stepped off the bar stool, pale hands once again trembling, although her voice had no such quality to it. He almost reached out to help her as her fingers fumbled with her coat, but stopped short, suddenly feeling cold, as her soft voice whispered, not looking at him but staring straight ahead, confident that he can hear her.

"So I heard your conversation with your friend..."

Jackson closed his eyes, opening his mouth to apologize, knowing full well that nothing excused his actions.

"…and you can tell him that you can't blindside me. Not when I'm already blind."

Jackson found himself unable to speak. Hearing soft footsteps, he quickly opened his eyes, seeing her already making her way out of the bar, noting how sure her movements were, as if she had done so countless times. He sighed, the lingering smell of her perfume wafting by his nose, as if mocking him, scornfully poking into his ego and arrogance, humbling him with her humbleness...

Jackson made his way back to Matthew, still shaken up by his brief encounter with the red head, not knowing what to tell his old friend.

"She certainly knows how to make a statement doesn't she?" Matthew stated nonchalantly, as Jackson rejoined him, expression doleful.

Jackson looked at his friend with disbelieving eyes. "You…you knew?!" he asked, aghast.

Matthew nodded, a wistful look in his own eyes. "Asked her out a couple months ago, she said no. I don't think she remembers me. Certainly makes you think twice though…"

Jackson breathed in through his nose, his nostrils flaring. "You're an asshole you know that?"

Matthew turned his head, looking at the other man amusedly. "Me? So you tell me to pick a girl for you at a bar, any girl, it didn't matter, just so you can still prove to me that the old "Avery charm" and those wide baby blues of yours still work, and I'm the ass?"

Jackson stared at his friend, unimpressed, but with begrudging respect. He noted the forlorn look in the other man's expression, things clicking rapidly in his head as to what must have happened two months ago.

"She got to you that bad huh?" Jackson tried to sound cocky, knowing as soon as the words came out of his mouth that he had failed miserably.

Matthew looked at him

"She didn't get to you?" He asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Yeah…" Jackson breathed.

Matthew nodded.

"She's just…unlike anyone else I've met before, you know? I'll come in here from time to time, sit, nurse a drink, and she'd be here at eight o'clock sharp, right on schedule, every day. Sometimes she would come in with a friend, chat with her, and then gaze off into the distance when the friend would leave her to play darts. Other times she'd be alone, order a drink, and sit there thinking. About what, I never got to find out. I did find out that she was blind when I went to try and talk to her and Joe, our bar tender, told me I better be careful with her because he loved her like a daughter and part of the reason she w as blind was because of him…"

Matthew looked at his friend. "I don't know how it's his fault though. Never got to know the rest of that story." He got up with a sigh, leaving a wad of cash at the bar and nodding to Jackson.

"Anyway, gotta go home dude, early shift tomorrow. Good to see you back in Seattle man. Hope you stick around this time. "

"Oh, I think I will." Jackson said to himself, as he watched Matthew make his way out of the bar, his mind completely occupied by a flaming red head with the fascinating back-story.

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