Dazed
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Amelia Shepherd x Reader (private practice era) 1,279 words
you nearly knock yourself out with a door and Amelia checks you over
a/n - i kid you not this fic has been in the drafts for like 3 years 😬😅
It was a late night at Seaside Health and Wellness, just as it was for a few others at the practice, and you were sorting some of the paper work that you had found in a forgotten corner earlier that day. You had spent most of your day sneaking glances at the new-ish neurosurgeon from your place behind the front desk and you couldn't help the blush that covered your cheeks when she walked past you with a smile, directed at you, on her face.
Amelia Shepherd was attractive, and she knew it.
Everything about her, from the way she walked and talked to the way she looked at someone, screamed confidence. It would be impossible to not develop a tiny bit of admiration for the girl; and Addison was the first to pick up on your interest in her sister. The whole practice was a family so you weren't too surprised when everyone began to subtly tease you about it; knowing smirks directed at you when she would enter or exit a room, small comments here and there just to fluster you, it was a surprise that Amelia hadn't caught on. Or maybe she had, and she was just having fun with it. Or maybe she wanted nothing to do with you.
Oh well, you couldn’t dwell on that, you hardly knew her anyway. But the movement of her shadow from behind the closed blind never strayed too far from the corner of your eye. And, as you quickly skimmed the content of each page to sort it into its designated pile, you wondered what it could be like - envisioning the pining and the glances and the warm smiles and eventually the cuddling on the couch and bringing her coffee with a kiss to her head. Damn. You had been single for far too long, and now you were yearning for an eternal kind of love as you sat in front of your work computer late enough to be questioned why you were still here, but there was nothing waiting for you back at home.
Your hand automatically found the next document, but your movements faltered, your other hand hovering above the mouse as your eyes recognised something as other. A different layout, a different font, even a different type of paper. Addressed to Addison Montgomery. Oh; it must have gotten mixed up, no big deal and so you place it aside - you’ll give it back to her later, you remind yourself - before picking up the next paper on the stack. The familiarity of it is almost comforting, you’re back on track. However, Addison’s letter keeps catching your eye, as if it’s glowing slightly brighter than the others, you try to ignore it and pick up the next document. You’re now a little too aware of how your toes feel squished in your shoes, and that they have a little ache to them along with knuckles of your fingers; the letter still nags in the back of your head. You squeeze your eyes shut for just a second, there’s no need to give it to Addison right now, it probably isn’t even important, just lost amongst a lost pile for who knows how long? You push the piece of paper further away and return to recording the files.
Knock, knock, knock.
Your fist lightly taps against Addison’s office door, her stupid letter clasped in your hand. It was for the best, that you were doing it right now, you most definitely would have forgotten to do it later, is what you tell yourself as you wait for a reply. Your eyebrows furrow when you don’t get one, you can just about hear movement inside, maybe she didn’t hear you, and so you knock again with a little more force this time.
Her muffled voice came a little after, “Oh yes.”
It wasn’t her usual reply and, in hindsight, you definitely should have questioned it a little more. Your hand finds the handle and you push the door open.
A short, shocked sound leaves your mouth.
The exposed pair rush to cover themselves. Shouting.
Your legs twist as you race to remove yourself as quickly as you could, blurting out apologies.
Bash!
Sharp, blinding pain rattled your brain, “Shit,” you curse as your hand flies to your forehead, eyes tightly screwed shut.
Slam!
Silence falls with the door, and you’re left without words. Your heart beating erratically, adrenaline pumping the flight or fight response. And then, you feel it, hot and sticky under your hand. You release the pressure from your head and tentatively peek at the hand that was covering it.
“Fuck, oh my god,” your eyes widen, were you supposed to be bleeding that much? And, suddenly, it’s already running down the side of your face. Your feet are moving as you cover the wound back up, probably to the bathroom or something like that to wipe off the blood. But then she’s in front of you, Amelia, holding her door wide open, beckoning you in with words you can’t really hear.
“You okay? How’s your head?” She asks and her hand cups your elbow as she guides you into her desk chair.
“In pain,” you respond once you’ve settled into it. She spins you around to face her as she props herself against the edge of her desk and her hand is already rummaging through an open drawer. Amelia moves quickly and surely, whilst you watch in a silent wonder, as she collects and prepares all that she needs.
Your heart beats a little too erratically for your liking when she tilts your head, guiding it to the side with a pair of fingers under your chin. But the giddy feeling sharply ends as soon as she presses a cotton pad to your head, causing you to jolt back slightly with a wince.
“Sorry, I should’ve warned you,” Amelia apologises, a little sheepishly, though an amused smile remains on her lips at your reaction.
You glance at her, but she’s already back to being focused on fixing you up, soft, brown hair tucked behind her ears and hands moving without thinking. You’re staring, you realise, and divert your eyes to the floor and then to the walls as naturally as you can.
Amelia can see your face from the corner of her eye, she’s closer than she needs to be, closer than she’d ever get to an actual patient, but you aren’t just some patient; you’re Y/n. She’s heard the whispers, she knows you’re interested and, god, she knows that she’s interested too. She would have made a move by now, find you on your break and take you out to lunch through the park, but she was waiting for you to make it instead. However, it didn’t seem like you had the balls, and she had left you plenty of opportunities. She was confident, she knows it puts some people off, she needed to know that you could handle it.
Finally, Amelia covers the gash with a plaster, and you turn to her once her movements still.
“All done?” You question quietly, wide eyes looking up at her, she can tell you’re nervous.
Amelia nods her head, “Yep, all done.” You both don’t move from your positions, and the stillness almost feels awkward.
“How would you-“ you pause slightly, well, you’ve already started now there was no backing out, “like to go and get coffee sometime, y’know, as a thank you?” Wringing your hands nervously, you can feel your face getting progressively warm after you finish your sentence.
Amelia smiles, maybe you do actually have the balls to make a move, “I’d love to.”
