Jack Abbott - Meet the Girlfriend - Part 1
(a/n) just a little mini-fic! Gonna be working on pt 2 today so bare with me mamas. This part is just fluff and comedy<3
By the time Jack got to the bar, the night shift had already taken over the big table in the back.
It was the usual post-shift mess. Sticky floor, low lights, fries in the middle of the table, half the group talking over each other, everyone looking like the hospital had chewed them up and spat them out somewhere near last call.
Robby was wedged into the corner of the booth with a beer in hand, looking tired enough to start seeing through walls. Frank sat at the end beside McKay, telling some story about a patient who came in convinced his neighbor had cursed his left foot. Mel was quietly eating her fries, smiling every now and then but mostly staying out of the firing line. Santos had claimed the loudest seat at the table, because of course she had.
Jack slid into the empty chair beside Robby and got booed immediately.
Santos lifted her beer. “There he is. Finally. See you’ve still not bought the other half along, does she actually exist?.”
Jack reached for the beer Robby pushed toward him. “Nice to see you too.”
Frank pointed a fry at him. “We’ve been asking to meet her for months.”
“It has not been months.”
McKay gave him a look. “It has absolutely been months. You mentioned her dog by name before you told us her name.”
Robby smiled into his beer. “That dog has joint treats now, apparently.”
Jack sighed. “He limps when he wants attention.”
Santos slapped the table. “See? That. That is boyfriend behavior. You’re out here co-parenting a dog and still pretending we’re nosy for wanting to meet the woman.”
Jack tried to look annoyed, but his mouth gave him away.
You’d been together for a few months now, and somehow his life had quietly rearranged itself around you. Your creamer in his fridge. Your hair ties on his nightstand. Your dog’s extra leash hanging by his door. Your laugh in his kitchen at stupid hours of the morning when both of you were too tired to be normal.
He hadn’t meant to keep you from them. Not really. He just liked having you all to himself, just his.
His phone lit up on the table.
-I’m here. Don’t look too excited or they’ll know you like me x
Jack read it and smiled before he could stop himself. The table went silent.
Robby lowered his beer slowly. “Ohhh, that was her.”
Jack locked his phone. “It was a text.”
Santos twisted in her chair toward the door. “She here!?”
Frank sat up straighter. “Wait, shit she’s actually coming?”
Jack took a drink, pretending like he hadn’t just handed them the best night of their lives. “Maybe.”
McKay tapped Mel lightly on the arm. “Look alive. Girlfriend incoming.”
The door opened behind them. Cold air slipped into the bar first, then you.
You stepped inside in jeans, boots, and a soft black top, hair loose around your shoulders, cheeks pink from the cold. You paused just inside the door, blinking as your eyes adjusted to the low light, then looked around the room. Jack saw you before anyone else did. Of course he did. You found him at the back table, and your whole face changed.
His chest did that stupid, warm thing again. Like the room got quieter, like something in him unclenched just because you’d walked in.
Santos saw his face first, then followed his gaze.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “That’s her. Jesus Abbott she is hot”
Everyone turned, about as subtle as a car crash. Jack shooting daggers towards Santos.
You noticed them immediately and laughed under your breath, a little nervous but still bold enough to lift your hand in a small wave as you crossed the bar toward them.
Jack stood before you reached the table. That got Robby’s attention, his eyebrows lifted, pleased and smug.
When you got close, Jack’s hand went straight to your waist like it belonged there.
“Hey,” he said, softer than he meant to.
“Hey, old man” you smiled.
He leaned in and kissed your cheek, right at the corner of your smile, warm and familiar. Not showy, not done for them, just instinct. His thumb brushed once over your side as he titled his head towards the group.
You looked past him at the table full of staring faces. “So this is either the team or I’ve walked into an intervention?.”
Robby grinned, lifting a hand into the air to pinch his fingers “Little bit of both.”
Jack turned slightly, keeping you close. “This is my girl, please do not traumatise her.”
You laughed as words landed warm between you. You looked up at him, smile softening like you liked hearing him say it in front of them.
Santos stood so fast her chair scraped. “Finally. I’m Trin, and I need you to know we’ve been begging to meet you because he has been impossible as ever”
You laughed as she hugged you. “He told me you were all being very dramatic.”
“We are dramatic,” Santos said, pulling back. “But we were right.”
Frank lifted his beer. “Frank. I know almost nothing about you except you make lasagna good enough to make him weird.”
You looked at Jack. “You told them about the lasagna?”
Jack pulled the chair beside him out for you, his hand brushing your lower back as you sat. “I said it was good.”
Robby leaned forward. “He said it was fine and then ate it for three days.”
You settled beside Jack, knee pressed against his under the table. “That means he loved it. He calls everything fine when he’s overwhelmed with feelings”
Jack took a drink. “I don’t do that.”
You patted his thigh under the table. “You absolutely do, baby.”
The table went quiet for half a second, Santos put a hand to her chest. “Baby. She called him baby and he didn’t even look pained, fuck it’s so cute”
McKay looked delighted. “I’ve never seen him this domesticated.”
Jack stared at the ceiling. “This was a mistake.”
You leaned into his side, smiling sweetly, your tone just slightly leaning to condescending “Noo, this was brave. I’m very proud of you.”
Robby laughed so hard he had to put his beer down. After that, it got easier.
A million questions came your way, they asked what you did for work, how the two of you met, where you were from.
Blind date through mutual cop friend.
They asked about your day, and you told them you’d slept until noon, made coffee at two like a gremlin, then took the dog to the park where he found the only muddy patch in the entire place and rolled in it like he’d paid rent there.
Jack leaned back with his arm draped behind your chair, listening while you talked, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder.
“She sent me a picture,” he said. “He looked so proud.”
“He looked filthy, it was so bad!” you laughed.
“Leave my boy alone, he had fun” Jack defended.
Santos pointed between you. “I hate how much sense this makes.”
Then the patient stories started properly. Frank finished the cursed-foot story, explaining that the patient demanded a preist, holy water and a turkey sandwich, in that very specific order. McKay told you about a guy who came in with a lot Lego stuck somewhere it shouldn’t be and insisted he “fell”. Robby, completely deadpan, described a patient who brought his own blood pressure cuff from home and accused theirs in the ED of being biased.
You laughed so hard you leaned into Jack’s side, your hand landing on his thigh for balance. Jack’s arm came around you without him thinking.
You looked up at him, cheeks warm from laughing and the drink Santos had insisted you try. “I’m good.”
His eyes stayed on yours for a beat too long.
Santos groaned. “Ohh, come on. You two do that all the time?”
“That little eye thing. Like you’re having a whole private conversation and the rest of us are just furniture.”
Jack didn’t look away from you right away. “You asked to meet her.”
“I asked to meet her, not watch you become a softie in real time.”
You snorted and tucked closer into his side.
A couple drinks later, you were tipsy enough to get loose around the edges. Not drunk. Just warm, softer, laughing easier. Your hand kept finding Jack’s knee under the table when someone said something funny, and his arm stayed behind you, fingers brushing your shoulder, your hair, the back of your neck.
At one point, Robby was telling you about Jack trying to discharge a patient who refused to leave because he said the hospital pudding was better than his wife’s cooking.You laughed, forehead dropping against Jack’s shoulder. His arm wrapped properly around you then, pulling you into his side, and he kissed the top of your head without thinking. The table caught it. Obviously.
Santos put her beer down slowly. “I need a minute.”
You lifted your head. “For what?”
“The head kiss. The arm. Him looking happy. It’s a lot.”
Robby nodded. “Unsettling, but good for morale.”
Jack rolled his eyes, but he didn’t let go of you.
Later, when the table had dissolved into smaller conversations and Santos was arguing with Frank about whether the jukebox had eaten her money, Robby leaned forward across from you.
“I’m going to say something sincere, and Jack’s going to hate it.”
Robby ignored him and looked at you. “He’s been better lately. Still a fuckin’ pain in the ass, obviously, but better.”
Your face softened. Jack looked down at his beer. You squeezed his hand under the table. “He’s still pretty miserable.”
Robby smiled. “Yeah, but now there’s a range of emotions ”
Jack huffed a laugh despite himself, and you leaned your cheek against his shoulder again. His arm tightened around you, lips brushing your hair once more, barely a kiss, but enough to make you smile into his shirt.
When you finally stepped outside together, the cold hit fast. You tucked yourself into Jack’s side as soon as the door shut behind you, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close while the bar noise dulled behind the glass.
“So,” you said, looking up at him. “Your work children are intense.”
“They’ve been waiting months. You’re lucky they didn’t ask for references.”
“I would’ve brought references.”
“I know you would babygirl” he chuckled
You smiled, fingers curling into the front of his jacket. “You were nervous.”
“Jack, your serious face was out.”
“The one you do when you’re trying to act calm but inside you’re preparing for disaster.”
He shook his head and let out a low laugh, but his hand slid more firmly around your waist. “You had fun?”
“I did.” Your teasing softened. “I like them.”
“They better. I was charming as fuck, honestly I am a delight”
That made him laugh, low and warm, and you grinned like you’d won something.
Through the window behind him, Santos had already spotted you. Then Robby. Then Frank. Then McKay. One by one, the table turned into a row of badly disguised nosy faces.
You noticed and groaned. “They’re watching.”
Jack glanced over his shoulder, saw them all immediately pretend to be looking anywhere else, and turned back to you.
You looked up at him, eyes bright and mouth curved. “Do you?”
His hand came up to your cheek, thumb brushing once along your jaw. The teasing fell away. The cold, the bar, the eyes in the window, all of it faded into the background when he looked at you like that.
“Thank you for coming,” he said quietly.
Your fingers tightened in his jacket. “Thank you for wanting me here.”
“I always want you,” he said, his gentle smile creeping towards a suggesting smirk.
Your breath caught as you leaned up and kissed him. It started soft, your mouth warm against his, one hand sliding up his chest. Jack kissed you back slowly at first, like he was still remembering where you were, like he was still pretending he had any restraint left in him.
Then you made a small sound against his mouth, tipsy and happy and soft, and his hand slipped to the back of your neck. The kiss deepened. Not rushed, not filthy, just full.
The kind of kiss that said he’d missed you all day. The kind that made your shoulders loosen and your body lean into his until he had you held against him with one arm around your waist and the other at your jaw. Your fingers curled into his jacket, and Jack tilted his head, kissing you again, slower, warmer, like he didn’t care who saw.
Inside the bar, Santos slapped Robby’s arm hard enough that he nearly spilled his beer.
You broke the kiss with a breathy laugh against Jack’s mouth. “They are absolutely watching.”
Jack’s forehead rested against yours. “Yeah.”
His thumb brushed your cheek.
Shorter this time, smiling into it, but still enough to make Santos throw both hands up through the window like she’d just witnessed a championship win. Jack finally pulled back, laughing under his breath. You looked past him and waved at the window.
Santos waved back with both hands. Robby lifted his beer. Frank gave an approving nod like a proud uncle. Mel looked embarrassed on everyone’s behalf.
Jack sighed. “I’ve made a mistake.”
You leaned into his side, smug and warm. “Too late. Your work children love me.”
He opened the truck door for you, hand resting at your lower back as you climbed in. Then he looked back at the window, where the entire table was still pretending not to stare, and shook his head. When he closed the door, you were still smiling up at him. Jack looking at you through the glass, warm and helpless and completely gone.
“Yeah,” he murmured to himself. “They do.”
