“The hell is that?!” Jack spluttered, grinning to match Samira.
“Fried cotton candy Oreo and funnel cake beer.”
Jack blinked.
“I didn’t hear you say that.”
collab with @BillyNoHouse on twitter/ @gordisbilly. their accompanying fanart
samira mohan x jack abbot | wc: 3k | teen and up | tags: collab with @BillyNoHouse on twitter, Silly, Fluff, no beta we die like mrs. abbot, fanart/fanfic collab, Age Difference, kind of out of character but in a fun way, Karaoke, vague mrs. abbot mention, Established Relationship, Girls' Night Out, planned and written in less than 24 hours, cut me some slack pls, Mohabbot Monday, Title from a Madonna Song, title from "like a prayer" by madonna
⤹ full oneshot below. rbs, comments, etc appreciated! ⤵︎
Children’s screams were, just for tonight, a familiar and even welcome ambience. Instead of causing Samira’s heart to race and her medical-mind self to kick into gear, the shrieks fit perfectly into the surrounding chaos: a pig with one perfect curl for a tail oinking as its preteen handler tried to usher it out of a mud pit and into its pen; families splitting plates of fried dough coated in cinnamon and syrup; jankety rides hurtling by at too-high speeds; parents divvying out ride tickets; a teenage boy trying (and failing) to win a teddy bear for the other half of his first date.
“If I had better eyesight,” Jack remarked as the boy missed the sixth straight dart throw, “I’d win you that.”
Her eyes rolled far enough back to see the sickened participants of the swing ride at its peak. “Always the gentleman. Is that why you brought me here? You want to woo me-”
“I always want to woo you.”
“With teddy bears and cotton candy?”
“Woah, hey, the cotton candy’s for me,” He playfully hugged the monster sized cotton candy to his torso and away from her grasp, easing up enough for her to tear away a portion swirled with pink and blue. “That’s the reason we came to the carnivals every year, because you sure as hell couldn’t pay me to ride any of this shit. Come to the first carnival of the season, share a lemonade and an extra large bag of cotton candy, and look at the cows.”
“I should’ve guessed you were the type of manly man who was terrified of rollercoasters and carnival rides.”
“Hey!” When Jack whirled to face her, Samira’s face was already creasing with hardly contained laughter at his defensiveness. “Rollercoasters and carnival rides are totally different, and coasterphobia is real-”
“Coasterphobia?! You know the term?!”
“I’m a doctor! And by the way, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have a prosthetic, so being scared of carnival rides-”
“Yeah, you’re right. Ferris wheels are famous for that sort of thing.”
“There is nobody on the face of this Earth that could get me onto that,” He jutted his empty hand to point at the ferris wheel they had, earlier, debated riding, with Samira deeming it the safest, most normal ride at the carnival. Evidently her boyfriend- who had concealed his phobia until tonight- disagreed. While they made their way to the central food court of the fairgrounds, he added, “I had a cousin who was a carny for three summers and he was the dumbest person I’ve ever met. Also the highest.”
“Oh, I was going to ask why you hung out with him if he was so dumb, but now I know.”
Jack’s defensiveness didn’t override the instinctive smirk at the memory of his high school days. “It was the eighties!”
“God,” She laughed, “How old are you?”
“Old enough for a beer. My arms are full- how about you get us drinks, and I’ll grab us a seat?”
Samira cast a look down his right leg where, underneath his clothing, his prosthetic was no doubt irritating him as it mixed with the sweat and heat of the night. Meeting his eyes again she nodded, accepted the wallet Jack wormed out of his back pocket, and took her place in line. As much as she adored Jack, or anyone else in this life, Samira craved safety in solitude.
Since Jack had come into her life, her attitude towards solitude had changed entirely. It had gone from a constant ache, caused by its unwillingness and her powerlessness to it, to something she could now voluntarily lean into. No longer did she spend weeks without saying another word to a human being outside of work; now, with Jack, she had come to view being by herself as a gift. Now, she got to pick and choose when to keep herself as her sole company, and treasure moments like this; the difference between alone and lonely had become a thing of beauty at the hands of Jack Abbot.
As the night was winding down, the beer truck had, evidently, been running dry. What started as a plan to get two beers had been thwarted; when she found the picnic table he was occupying she was holding one glass.
“They were out of basically everything,” She sighed, “So I hope you enjoy… this.”
Understandably, Jack’s brow lifted at her unsure tone. What was there to be unsure of? Beer was beer. In the time provided by his hesitation she took her seat and lifted the cup to his lips. It looked like beer, it smelled like beer; so why had she trailed off in that mysterious way? Why-
He gulped down a sip and nearly coughed it back up. “The hell is that?!” Jack spluttered, grinning to match Samira.
“Fried cotton candy Oreo and funnel cake beer.”
Jack blinked.
“I didn’t hear you say that.”
“Cotton candy oreos,” She explained, slower, “Fried, with funnel cake. All in one beer. Does it taste amazing?”
“I have never tasted anything sweeter in my entire life- well,” Samira scoffed as his eyes raked down to her lap. Immature. “And, there is absolutely no alcohol in that. Whatever that is, it’s not beer.”
“Well, I don’t want any, so drink up.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no. That’s not fair. You- it’s basically juice, Mohan, it’s only fair you split it with me, c’mon-”
“Jack-”
“There you go,” He only set the glass down after she’d drank it. Expectedly, her expression cringed, twisting up with a hissing breath.
“I don’t like beer. That is not beer, but I still don’t like it.”
“Attagirl. But tell you what, I’m getting my money’s worth.”
Samira nodded, though he couldn’t see when he was mid-chug. “Economical. I like that about you,” She hummed, watching like a hawk as he licked a drop of the sickly sweet beer off his lips and handed her back the monstrosity of a beverage. “I feel like it should be pink, you know? If it tastes this crazy.”
“Yeah, that would fix it. Even though it tastes awful, is overly expensive, and has no alcohol in it.”
“For all this sugar, you’d at least expect a buzz.”
“I love bad fair food, but a shitty beer that doesn’t even get you drunk is where I cross the line.”
Twenty minutes later, Samira and Jack were discovering the joys of navigating a hectic carnival parking lot at closing time while being unexpectedly drunk.
“This guy’s a creep,” Jack said, “Get the next driver.”
“Every driver on Uber looks like a creep. Isn’t that what you’re there for?” She kept the slur out of her voice. Mostly. “Wait, wait, what?! I forgot he was doing this, this is perfect- here, what about-”
“Creep!” Samira gave Jack a look that could kill.
“That’s Dr. Whitaker, Jack. From the day shift.”
“He’s blonde and he drives a pickup truck. Next, or, we’ll just walk home-”
“Oh my god. Fine, what about-”
“Ma’am, do you need help? Is this guy bothering you?” They both turned on a dime to face the stranger rushing to Samira’s defense. She was half tempted to take up the offer and get rid of Jack, who tended to get extra clingy when tipsy. Once they turned around Samira quickly shed his arm from around her waist, taking three large steps towards the familiar figure of Parker Ellis.
“Ellis?! What are you doing here, you freaked me out!” She beamed, watching as Jack similarly playfully scolded her. Ellis gestured towards the carnival exit as it overflowed with sugarsick children and their parents, fending off migraines from the rides they had been forced to go on.
“I was supposed to pick up my nephew. He’s going to a friend’s, though,” Ellis said. She noticed Samira’s phone and the ride app displayed onscreen. “Need a ride?”
“This is why you’re my favorite,” Jack told her as they reached the parked sedan. While helping Samira down into her seat he added, “Don’t tell Shen.”
“I’m telling Gloria!” A familiar voice sang from the back seat. Jack ducked into the car and slapped Shen, sitting in the passenger’s seat, on the shoulder. Amidst the excitement the lemonade Samira had been placing into a cupholder jostled to the point of spilling several droplets onto her calf. When Jack withdrew to settle in his seat, he noticed her dabbing her jacket cuff on her leg. One inquisitive look and Samira gesturing to the lemonade caused a look of understanding to dawn on him.
“Shen! Come here. Santos is here, let’s each go to an exit and find her,” Ellis peeked back, “You two, stay in the car. I’lk turn the air conditioning on. Do not,” She eyed Jack, “Mess my car up, or do any gross stuff.”
“Nothing to worry about, Ellis. We’re just really good friends,” Jack murmured between himself and his girlfriend, ignoring Parker’s immediate eye roll (tonight, especially, he seemed to have a particular talent for eliciting those) and the closing of the car door as Shen left to do Ellis’ bidding. Left alone, Jack’s mind drifted to doing what Jack Abbot had always done best; causing trouble on the basis of a woman out of his league.
Samira glanced over to Jack at the feeling of his hand wrapping round her calf and lifting it up onto his lap over what little empty space existed between them. “Lot of it get on you?”
“No,” Her leg buzzed around the grasp of his fingers drifting down to her ankle and holding on to it, “Just the last few drops.”
With a low hum, Jack raked his eyes over the exposed skin of her thigh, down to her knee, then over the calf. After giving her ankle a few taps and a feather light tightening of his grip he lifted, slowly, waiting for any sort of protest. Samira gave none and, on the contrary, straightened her leg out to make it easier, asking, “If you lick my leg, I think I’ll get sick.”
“Think?”
She shrugged, a tipsy smile on display. “Maybe I’ll find it hot,” She said.
Any exploration of that possibility was interrupted by fingers tapping the window and a muffled, “Parker, they are!” or, “My eyes! My eyes!” or, “Abbot, you’ve corrupted her!” from Shen and Santos. Jack, without letting go of Samira’s ankle, rolled his window down with a shit-eating grin and chastised them. As they continued to cry out to Parker (and, coming into view alongside her, Garcia) of the horrors they were witnessing, Jack argued back. With the way-too-strong beer still empowering his more mischievous ways, Jack gave up all hope of controlling the situation and lifted her calf to his open mouth to playfully bite.
After a shocked yelp at the sudden action, Samira’s laughter multiplied tenfold, mixing with the cacophony of reactions from all but Garcia.
“Okay, as far as the seat situation is going, those two are getting their own seats. No more freaky shit in my car- don’t make me need to buy a blacklight,” Ellis opened all the doors on the passenger side and they all began to figure out the complexities of who would sit where, how. It ended with Jack, Samira, and Garcia in the backseat with Trinity on her lap. SHen resumed his spot in the passenger seat and, after Santos ducked to evade any law enforcement seeing their less than legal seating arrangement, they were off on the optimal route to drop everyone off where they needed to be.
If figuring out the seating arrangement and introducing Garcia and Santos into the mix had been chaotic, the ride itself defied description. Garcia was gossiping with Abbot about the rumored feud between Park the Shark and Walsh, Shen and Mohan were discussing how fucked the day shift was compared to the night shift and how silly people with claustrophobia were (a pinch in her side let her know Abbot heard even if he didn’t break conversation or eye contact with Garcia), and Santos updated Ellis on the latest state of Pittsburgh’s gay bars. Ten minutes after they’d escaped the traffic leaving the fairgrounds, Abbot heard Santos mention her favorite karaoke spot in the city.’
“I even took Mel there last summer, after,” She paused, glancing at the woman currently serving as her seat, her arms wrapped around Santos for stability, “After that awful shift on the fourth of July.”
“I won a karaoke competition in undergrad,” Abbot piped up. All at once, the conversation in the car died down until all that could be heard was the music Ellis had quietly turned on. Mohan was the first to laugh, but it was Ellis that planted the first seed of an idea.
“What song?”
No response.
“Abbot,” Shen turned to face him, smiling wide enough for him and Ellis both. “What song?”
“Well… there were three rounds.”
Santos’ mouth dropped, along with everyone else’s, and she murmured, “Oh my God,” as Garcia began to fight back laughter of her own.
“Round one was And I Will Always Love You; round two, I Need a Hero; and for the first place finale, ” He sighed, though nobody in the car knew how the two of those could be topped based on the shocked gasps that followed, “Like a Prayer. The… the Madonna song,” Jack trailed off over the immediate howls and shrieks of laughter. Other than Samira, not many living people got to see a bashful Jack Abbot; but sure enough, as they all tried and failed to catch their breath between raucous laughter, he turned red and faced out the window to clear his throat.
“I can’t believe Doctor- Doctor Jack Abbot, of the PTMC, once won a karaoke competition by singing Like a Prayer.”
“I was raised Christian. Besides, I didn’t win because of my singing,” Everyone hushed, turning to him once more. As it was a red light, even Ellis craned her neck around to witness what he was about to reluctantly admit. “I took my shirt off.”
“Oh my God,” Samira covered her mouth in horror as the car went ten times crazier than before.
“The judges were a bunch of sorority girls, and I was ripped in college,” He defended himself over their rowdiness.
“But you were also ginger,” Shen pointed out, “Tit for tat.”
“He’s still ripped,” Samira said.
Jack kissed her cheek. “Yeah, what she said.”
“Oh God. You being ginger explains so, so much,” Garcia said.
“I figured you came out of the womb with gray hair,” Santos added, ignoring the playful glare he shot her way.
Shen held a hand out to garner focus. “There’s a karaoke place right by my apartment, which is her first stop. Just saying.”
Maybe it was the spirit of shitty, overly sweet “beer” with much more alcohol in it than any normal alcoholic beverage had, or the fact that Santos guaranteed Mel would show up if asked. All anyone knew was fifteen minutes later, the karaoke bar beneath John Shen’s apartment was full of doctors who finally had a night off.
True to her word, Santos loudly announced the arrival of Mel right before dragging Abbot onstage for a tipsy reenactment of his “I Need a Hero” performance. Santos did most of the performing and- what would become a common theme as the night progressed- they all ended up onstage before the song ended. A solo from Shen; Something Stupid for Mohan and Abbot; a duet of a song Jack had never heard of from Garcia and Santos; in response the nearly empty bar occasionally clapped, or groaned at the song choice, but they were rowdy enough to compensate for their lackluster audience. The drinks were flowing- even Mel sipped at someone else’s amaretto sour here and there- and right when they agreed to call it a night, concluding they were all far too old to be drinking and karaoke-ing past midnight, Ellis held a hand up.
“Wait, wait. It’s only fair we end this night one way. Jack, finish your beer.”
Jack warily followed Ellis’ instruction. Right when he set the bottle down was when the first chord played of a familiar guitar riff.
“No. Absolutely n-”
Samira and Mel both cut him off, with the others all quickly joining in for the opening lyrics to the Madonna song that had haunted him since college. He reluctantly joined, though nobody made any move to get up from where they’d been gathering their belongings around a large booth. All seven of them sang an emphatic, off-key, drunkenly lousy rendition of Like a Prayer, and no shirts were removed, marking the first (and only) logical decision made all night.
Shen retired to his apartment with the offer of a couch to crash on which Ellis was quick to accept. Mel was sober enough to drive home, dropping Santos and Garcia off along the way. Sitting on a bench in front of the bar, it wasn’t until he saw their car drive off safely that Jack reached for his phone to book a ride home.
“Any of these drivers meet your standards, or are they too creepy?” Samira leaned into his side with a yawn.
“When I’m this beat, there are no standards. Looks like… Hannah will be meeting us at that corner in four minutes. Driving a lime green PT cruiser with a vanity plate,” He cocked his head, “Naturally.”
Pushing herself off the bench to stand in front of it, she offered a languid hand out to Jack and began to leisurely saunter to the pickup corner.
“I can’t believe we just did any of that,” Samira said. Jack used his free hand to take her bag from her free hand; luckily they didn’t have to carry the monster sized cotton candy, since the group had been picking at it over the last two hours. “I guess I forget how fun stuff like that can be. Normally, it doesn’t sound that fun at all.”
“Everything in moderation. I’m a bit too old to party like that, but once in a while, you find the people that make it worth it,” They came to a stop under the only street lamp that hadn’t flickered in the entire time they were outside. Samira rested her back against the post and kicked a leg up for leverage, a warm smile on her face as their eyes met. Each curl on his head glowed in the silhouette of the light overhead; a beautiful, heavenly glow surrounding him. For Jack it was even more glorious; when he angled his head just right she was cast in the golden hue that he always viewed her in, even if it was 2am under the harsh hospital fluorescents. She looked like an angel which, Jack thought, was how she looked all the time anyways.
Her hand rose to caress his stubbled jaw. It inched upwards to tangle in his hair, weeks untrimmed, the curls peeking through. She tugged him downwards and, when they both realized just how intensely the taste of cotton candy and novelty carnival beer lingered on their tongues, laughed against each other’s lips.
Here are some of the kofi requests ive done so far! Ill eventually do all the requests but if you support throught my kofi your request gets priority and you get more than just one drawing so check out my bio if ur intrested!!
hey yall this was my submission for the mohabott monday birthday bash entry!! I loved seeing all the art and fanfics everyone!! This drawing was for @/nocapesdahling on twitter!!
Here are the last twitter requests!! I had so much fun doing all of these, I will only be taking requests from my kofi, i wanna be able to do art full time one day, so i hope yall understand why the sudden change! <3
kianamaiart
germansingergirl
romaincrisis
tangentwithtanner
vaporwave
