Warnings: flirting, physical intimacy, medical gossip, developing relationship
Author's notes: I work in the ER most shifts, 2nd, so it has been way easier to find inspo to write recently. Just got good news about my job, so I am slowly finding motivation to write again. Or maybe it's because it's getting nicer outside!
You didn’t know why you were going in through the back entrance, a familiar route that you used to take to get into the ER.
And you showed up 40 minutes early. Most days you were a maximum of 10 minutes early- something Robby used to gripe about during your early days as a wee-little resident before eventually giving up.
You tried to convince yourself on your morning walk here that you were going in early because you woke up refreshed, full of energy. But the truth of the matter was that it’d been about a week since you had seen Jack.
It felt pathetic. You’d only been talking for a little over a month, but in the healthcare world, it felt like three months. You always swore that you would never date a coworker, fearful of falling into the stereotype of a healthcare worker who rushes into a relationship.
Yet here you are, both of you trained professionals to make quick decisions at work and crave stability and understanding of the taxing effects of your careers off the clock.
This morning, you woke up desperately wanting to see Jack before his shift was over.
You had exchanged texts and shared a phone call or two. But your schedules had been switched. By the time you had gotten off, you were in bed by 9 o’clock.
Dr. Callaway was out for the week, starting three days ago, to recover from her thyroidectomy. You went from your normal 1 day shift and 3 nights to 4 day shifts in a row. It was more than disorienting.
Your sleep schedule was thrown off, and you felt it. You were more irritable, drowsy, and most of all, more emotionally sensitive. And if you felt it, you were more than positive that your coworkers felt it, too. Especially as it seemed that all week they had teetered on the edge, making sure that you had your coffee and pushing more snacks on you than normal.
You were just thankful that it was your last day before you had the next three days off, a reward for volunteering to switch so other night shifters didn’t have to fill in the gap.
It was Jack’s weekend off. You had to wait one more day and then you would be able to see him again. But you were determined to recharge your battery.
The morning after the night you stayed over was filled with cuddles, and you had somehow fallen asleep again, finally catching up on sleep as you slept in until 1 that afternoon.
You had profusely apologized for wasting a good portion of the day, only to be shut up with a finger on your lip and a pair of lips on your forehead.
“Stop right there. You obviously needed it.”
It wasn’t something you were used to. In your last relationship, which had been over 2 years ago, you had gotten used to being shamed into waking up early on your days off. Your ex didn’t work in the medical field and simply did not understand the emotional and physical exhaustion that you consistently experienced at work.
But now that you had that interaction? Jack had made you feel less guilty about listening to your body. Afterall, you wouldn’t be able to take care of new mothers and their babies if you were working overtime and not taking care of yourself in your downtime.
Which was another thing. The conversation about overworking yourself had come up naturally over the phone one early morning. Jack didn’t mean to wake you up, but regardless you had talked to him for the entire 20 minutes before he had to jump off to attend to an incoming critical. But not before he slyly mentioned that he hoped there would be a reason for you to cut back on hours and hold other hospitalists accountable for picking up shifts.
“Well look who it is.” You hear her before you see her. Lena, one of the night shift charge nurses for over a decade, hunched over a desk, clicking her mouse. “What brings you in, Scout? Emergency consult? Just come to visit us? Possibly joining us as an R1 again? ”
“No, no consult.” You pause, setting your water bottle down on the station, shifting the bag on your shoulder as you lean against the desk. “Just came in to talk to a friend.”
Her glasses lower on her nose, charting forgotten as her attention gets redirected.
“A friend?”
“Lena.” A warning tone comes out, trying to be respectful of the woman whilst the exhaustion from the week remains caged away, lock barely holding it in.
“Oh come on, I’ve managed ER drama for over 13 years, kid! Who are you seeing?”
There is a lull in conversation as you set your coffee mug down, letting your backpack slide off of your shoulder and onto the ground. Studying her, you pick up on her smile, a glint in her brown eyes. Little fly-aways stick to her forehead, a few beads of dried sweat seemingly holding them in place.
“You already know.”
“May have spotted your name pop up on his phone once when you returned a missed call, with a pregnant lady emoji. Have something to share with the class?”
“Oh god!” You exclaim as you quickly look over your shoulders to see who is around. Most people are scattered around doing early morning checks before shift change, preparing reports for tradeoffs. “That’s my name?”
“Jack is a very practical man. OB is for pregnant ladies, is it not?”
“I am not pregnant. We haven’t even-” You pause, lowering your voice as you hesitate to reveal the next part. “had sex yet.”
“Now we’re talking! Look at you two, high stress jobs and still resisting the urge to go at it. How long-”
“What are we talking about?”
Your heart lurches forward, leaving your body as you jump. You turn around to see Mateo, letting your hand lightly smack his chest.
“It is too early to be sneaking up on people!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so jumpy, doc.” He leans his back against the counter, elbows pressed down against the granite surface. “What are you doing here early?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I would, thanks. Now answer me.”
“Ooh, look at you being all demanding, Mateo.” Lena clicks a button, undoubtedly locking her charts, before she straightens up, turning around to head towards the printer as a document prints. “Careful, she’s a night owl at heart. I wouldn’t test her this early in the morning.”
“Touche.” Mateo nudges you, drawing a smile as you put your forearms on the counter, pressing a cheek against your arm. “You know, a doctor that I know just placed an order for 2 coffees. One iced coffee and black for himself. At first I thought the drink was for Shen, but then I realized that Shen is off.”
“And you know this because?”
“Because I happened to get a glimpse of his phone, duh.”
You let out a yawn, covering your mouth as you hold up your index finger, pausing before apologizing.
“The walls have eyes and ears, kiddo. You should know this, it doesn’t just stop when you become an attending or switch specialities.”
Lena yawns shortly after, giving you a look for starting the trend. You sheepishly give a small smile, aiming to repent for your wrongdoing.
“Especially when two doctors are seeing each other.” Mateo grins, turning around to slap his hand on the counter as he pushes himself off of the desk to move to the other side of the station. “Speaking of the devil.”
Your attention instantly peaks as you glance over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Jack as he saunters your way, his stethoscope tucked neatly in the hip clip that you got him.
Part of you is shocked that he is even wearing it, but the deeper part of you knows that when it is busier, the Littman will most certainly be strung haphazardly over his neck.
“Well good morning doc. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Last day shift of the week, figured I’d start the day off properly. Be early for once.”
And then you see Ellis round the corner from South, nodding her head up. You nod back, laughing as she throws up a peace sign before disappearing into a room.
“And how is that going for you?”
“Popped Advil for the migraine coming on and almost done with my coffee.”
“Headache this early in the morning? Sleep okay?”
You see Mateo sit down at a nearby computer, halfheartedly typing on the keyboard as he eavesdrops. You sigh, shaking your head, yet a smile stays on your face.
“I crashed, yet again. More like my uterus is revolting against me.”
“Drinking water? Did you eat?”
“I probably need to drink more. Had breakfast for once this morning.”
“This is cute, doctors playing doctor on each other. Very hospital coded flirting.”
A large smile tugs on the corners of Jack’s lips as you blush, looking over to see that nurse Bridget has joined.
“Want me to prescribe something? A triptan?”
You nod, feeling as if you could cry at the thoughtfulness. You reach up, swiping at the skin under your eye as a tear falls.
“Come on. No need to tough this out all day.”
There is no room for protest as Jack leans down to grab your slumped over bag, slinging it over his shoulder whilst you grab your coffee. His hand hovers over your lower back, and you shake your head as you hear hushed giggles and chatter, gaining sly looks.
This is just what you remembered about the ER.
A small part of you misses it, the addictive nature of ER medicine. The fast pace, adrenaline constantly running through your veins. The close bonds you shared with your fellow coworkers, woven together by trauma and dark humor to cope, early morning laughs and late night food runs.
However, an even larger part is glad that you got out. You would always be an ER doctor, but you had seen enough, even early on in your residency. The physical and emotional burnout was tough, and you had seen staff turnover like crazy, leaving for specialties with less emotional toll.
Now in OB, you were able to help people in a more nurturing manner, still with hard moments that you had to make quick decisions, yet there was more time to build relationships with vulnerable patients in a time that was life-changing.
Besides, talking to Jack, you get a reminder of why you are happy in the spot you are in now.
When the door finally shuts to triage 2, your bag is put down on the counter before Jack’s hand lands on your hip, pulling you into his chest. His other hand carefully cradles the side of your face, fingers tangling in your hair softly before he leans down to kiss you.
“Good morning honey. Let’s get you patched up, yeah?”
And everything that had felt off about the past few days disappears, your brain reset as you take in Jack. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you let him guide the kiss before pulling back, resting your ear on his chest.
“Coffee is on the way, with that sourdough breakfast sandwich you liked last time we went to Dunkin. Even got your favorite donut, a treat for being a trooper this week, working days.”
“Oh Jack, you didn’t have to.”
“No, but I wanted to. I haven’t seen you all week, and I just…needed you to know how much I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” You sniffle, letting a few hot tears melt against the black fabric of his scrub top. “Can I come over tonight?”
“Dinner will be on the table by the time you pull into the drive. I was thinking about making something comforting. Meatloaf, maybe a pot roast?”
“Surprise me, doctor.”
“I can certainly do that. Now sit in the chair, let me get some vitals.” You give him a pout, and he laughs, unclipping his stethoscope and slinging it around his neck. “Humor me, please. Can’t have my girl on the floor without knowing she’s okay.”
