The Night Shift - Jack Abbot x Reader
A night shift in the ED was supposed to be routine, just another rotation of trauma, paperwork, and long hours that blurred into morning.
For Dr Jack Abbot, it usually was.
Until her.
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Night shift in the ED always felt like its own living thing. It breathed, it shifted, it tightened and loosened without warning, and Jack Abbot had learned long ago how to move inside it without getting swallowed by it.
He worked through it the way he always did, steady hands, steady voice, steady decisions. Trauma came in waves, charts filled, alarms went off and resolved, and somewhere between the chaos there was a rhythm he could usually rely on.
Until she walked into it.
The call had been simple enough at first. Methadone unit being called to assist in ED with a frequent flyer who had missed doses.
He barely looked up when he heard the nurse on the phone, but once he heard the ward coming down he did because he knew exactly who they would send down.
She moved through the department like she belonged there just as much as anyone else, calm in a way that stood out against the noise. Her voice was steady as she spoke to the patient, her hands precise, her attention fully anchored in what was in front of her.
Jack found himself watching longer than he needed to. Not clinically. Not professionally. Just… watching so intently that it could be confused for staring.
“You’ve got it handled?” he asked when he stepped closer.
She didn’t look at him straight away, finishing what she was doing before answering. “Yeah Jack, you know me. I always do.”
Then she glanced up briefly, and something passed between them that had nothing to do with work and everything to do with everything else neither of them said out loud.
He stayed where he was for a moment longer than necessary, taking her in the way he always did when she wasn’t looking directly at him. The quiet confidence. The focus. The way she held herself like she didn’t need anyone to steady her.
It got him every time.
When she finished and turned to leave, he reached out before thinking, his fingers closing gently around her wrist.
She turned back, a small question in her expression.
“What?”
For a second he just looked at her, like he was trying to hold onto something he knew he would be thinking about long after she walked away.
Then he kissed her.
Right there in the middle of ED.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t showy. It was certain in a way that made everything around them feel briefly unreal.
She blinked when he pulled back, like she hadn’t quite expected it to happen in front of everyone.
“Jack,” she said quietly, “You’re at work.” Realising deep down that their relationship had never slipped into these walls. They kept their private life and work life completely seperate, she even entered through the front door while he went around to staff parking so they wouldn’t be seen.
“So are you.” Then softer, just for her, “Still doesn’t change the fact I’m a little obsessed with you.”
She tried to hide the reaction, but it slipped through anyway, the smallest shift in her expression before she composed herself again.
“Go back to your patients,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Jack smiled.
She walked away quickly, but not before something softer crossed her face that only he caught.
And when she was gone, He just went back to work like nothing had changed, even though everything had.
⸻
By the time handover came at seven, the department had started to soften. The night was ending, the day was taking over, and the tension that had carried through the dark hours was beginning to ease.
Jack gave report the way he always did. Clear, controlled, efficient. But his attention kept drifting back to the moments between everything else, the ones that didn’t belong in a clinical summary.
When he finished, he handed over and stepped out before anything else could pull him back in.
She was waiting outside.
Leaning against the wall just beyond the doors, still tired, still grounded, like she had been before everything started moving too fast.
Something in his chest settled when he saw her there.
“You ready?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
They didn’t say anything else for a while. They just walked, close enough that their hands brushed without either of them fully committing to it yet. Not here. Not in the light of the hospital still waking up.
The drive home was quiet in a way that felt almost protective. The city outside was soft with early morning light, and inside the car there was only the sound of breathing and the occasional shift of movement.
When they got home, the silence changed.
It wasn’t empty anymore. It was theirs. Well, it was his but she couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t spent the night in almost 3 months but she was still hesitant to get rid of her apartment.
She dropped her bag near the door and kicked off her shoes, and when she turned to him, the shift was immediate and unspoken. The hospital version of them stayed behind them like a coat they had both taken off.
“You’re staring again,” she said softly.
“Can you blame me?”
She didn’t answer that. She just stepped closer and kissed him.
Slow at first, like they were both still adjusting to being out of survival mode and into something softer. His hands settled at her waist without hesitation, grounding himself in the fact that she was here, safe, real.
Then he pulled back slightly, just enough to shift his weight.
“Give me a second.”
She watched as he sat down and reached for the familiar straps, removing his prosthetic with the same practiced ease he did everything else. It wasn’t dramatic, it wasn’t a statement, just part of him easing out of the day.
When she stepped forward and climbed into his lap, there was no hesitation from either of them.
It felt natural. Instinctive. Like it had always been this way. Like she had been crafted to sit perfectly in his lap, grinding against him gently teasing.
His hands found her immediately, resting at her hips, thumbs brushing slowly as if he was reminding himself she was still here.
“Better?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah.”
Her hands moved over his chest, slower now as she slowly moved on his lap, and he watched her the way he always did when the rest of the world stopped mattering.
“You’re doing it again,” she murmured.
“Yeah.”
“No shame at all.”
“None.”
She kissed him again, and this time there was no restraint left in it, just the steady pull of everything they hadn’t said out loud yet.
“You’ve been like this all night,” she whispered.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re about to lose control.”
He exhaled slowly against her. “That obvious?”
She smiled faintly. “Mm.”
His voice dropped. “Because you walked into ED like you owned it, and I couldn’t stop thinking about getting you out of there.”
Her expression softened slightly. “For this?”
His grip tightened just a fraction. “For this.”
And everything else faded with it.
