Chapter Text
Samira was finishing up a patient's chart on her tablet when she felt the exhaustion heavy on her eyes. A quick glance at the device's clock read 3:15 a.m.
She sighed, trying to release some of the tension coiled in her body. The knot in her chest was still there, a constant reminder of how little time she had left in her residency—and the looming decision about her subspecialty.
Looking up, she spotted Dr. Abbot across the nurses' station, reviewing something on a monitor. He looked as unflappable as ever. It was a trait Samira had admired since they started working together after Pittfest last year—and, honestly, the main reason she’d started picking up double shifts so frequently.
She had to admit, finding a mentor in one of her attendings was nice. Ever since the incident with Mr. Orlando, her perspective on Abbot had done a complete 180 for the better... and it was honestly a little embarrassing to admit just how drawn she was to a man more than twenty years her senior.
Taking a deep breath, she set her tablet down and walked over to him.
"Dr. Abbot," she called softly, stopping at his side.
Jack didn't look up from what she now recognized as a chest X-ray, but gave a small nod of acknowledgment. "Is something wrong, Dr. Mohan?"
"Well..." she hesitated, suddenly feeling a spike of nerves. "I wanted to ask your advice about my subspecialty."
"Sure, tell me." The man finally turned to face her, his gaze piercing.
Samira swallowed hard, feeling a flush creeping up her cheeks.
"I keep thinking about something Dr. Robby told me... about how maybe this specialty isn't for me. Now that I'm finishing up, I don't know if I really belong here, or if I should choose another area that..."
"Robby isn't always right," Abbot interrupted sharply. "Especially if you caught him on a rough day. Don't listen to him. Look at yourself instead, and value how well you listen to your patients." He stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder, a gesture that nearly made her heart pound out of her chest. "You're an excellent doctor, Dr. Mohan. If you decide to go into intensive care, or anywhere else, I'll write the recommendation letter myself. I've got your back."
Samira felt the air finally return to her lungs. Those words were exactly what she needed to hear.
The smile that spread across her face radiated newfound confidence. She glanced down for a brief second, suddenly shy, and her eyes caught on the dull ring on Dr. Abbot's left hand. Rumor had it the ring was for his late wife, the tragic reason he was always burying himself in extracurriculars like SWAT duty or picking up early shifts.
It's now or never, Samira thought, riding the wave of sudden bravery.
"Dr. Abbot..." She looked up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, trying to sound casual. "Our shift ends at seven. Would you like to grab breakfast? I know a really good café just a couple of blocks from here."
The man blinked, mildly surprised by the invitation. He checked the wall clock, then looked back at her.
"Sounds like a good plan. Lead the way."
Jack turned his attention back to the X-rays. Samira nodded and spun around to head back to her patients, her heart beating a mile a minute.
He had just accepted what could very well be their first date, no matter how casual it was.
At 7:05 a.m., Dana walked into the room, coffee in hand and her usual maternal smile on her face.
"Morning, Mohan. Rough night?" she greeted, dropping her bag behind the counter.
"Morning, Dana. Pretty quiet, actually," Samira replied. She adjusted her jacket over her black scrubs, waiting near the exit as she watched Dr. Abbot approach, his sweater slung over his arm and his backpack on his shoulders.
"Dana, it's all yours. I trust you to hold down the fort as always," he said, giving the charge nurse a friendly pat on the shoulder.
"Of course, who do you think I am? Get some rest." Dana beamed at him in a wide smile, then glanced over at Samira, who was clearly waiting for him. "Are you two heading somewhere together?"
Samira tensed, suddenly nervous under the charge nurse's perceptive gaze.
"We're going to grab a quick breakfast," Jack answered, checking his wristwatch. "Just coffee before heading home."
"Sounds perfect," the blonde smiled at them warmly. "Enjoy, you two. Have a good shift."
They stepped out of the hospital into the crisp morning air. Walking side-by-side down the sidewalk toward the café felt slightly surreal and undeniably exciting.
"So... Dr. Abbot, did you always want to be an ER doctor?" she asked, breaking the silence, eager to get to know the man a little better.
"More or less." He let out a short sigh, shoving his hands deep into his jacket pockets. "I always knew I wanted to serve in the military after graduation, so I figured emergency medicine would be the most useful for the field."
"You must have seen a lot in the army," she commented, impressed.
"Enough," he replied. His tone was neutral, offering no invitation to dig into war traumas, but he did it with a gentleness that Samira appreciated.
They arrived at the café, a cozy little spot that smelled like warm bread and freshly brewed coffee. They took a small table by the window. She ordered scrambled eggs and tea; he asked for water and toast.
For the next thirty minutes, Samira was the one carrying the conversation. She talked about her med school years, funny study stories, and her hopes for the future. Dr. Abbot listened quietly, nodding every so often. Though his stoic expression didn't give much away, his steady gaze proved he was paying complete attention.
He looked exhausted—the dark circles under his eyes were impossible to miss—but he never tried to cut her off or act impatient. Samira felt her heart soften at the kindness of the man sitting across from her, just giving her that moment to talk.
When they finished breakfast, she insisted on paying the bill as a thank you. Abbot agreed easily enough, and they both got up from the table.
Just as she was heading for the door, though, she noticed her date walking over to the to-go counter.
"Excuse me, I'll need a couple of cheese bagels to go. And a large mocha, please," he told the cashier.
Samira hung back a few steps, watching curiously. Bagels after just having toast? And a mocha right before going to sleep? She figured he was stocking up on fuel for whatever extracurriculars he had planned for later.
Abbot grabbed the paper bag in one hand and the thermal cup in the other before heading out. Once they were back on the sidewalk, Samira officially chalked her first date up as a success.
"Thank you so much for coming with me, Dr. Abbot. I really needed to clear my head, and your advice helped a lot," she said, giving him a wide, open smile.
She resisted the urge to close the distance and hug him. His hands were full with his to-go breakfast anyway, and besides, she didn't want to rush things.
Jack gave her a small smile in return—barely a tilt at the corner of his lips, but genuine.
"No problem. You should take the weekend to really think it over. You're good; trust what draws your attention."
Samira felt like her face muscles were aching from smiling so much.
"I will! Get some rest!"
They exchanged a nod in farewell and went their separate ways. She walked toward the bus stop, the heavy weight of her residency feeling just a little bit lighter, her mind already buzzing with plans for a future outing with Dr. Abbot.
Jack, on the other hand, walked the three blocks to his apartment. Unlocking the front door, he could hear the low hum of the television coming from the living room.
He stepped inside and stripped off his jacket, heading straight for the kitchen to drop the bag of bagels and the mocha on the counter. He let out a heavy sigh, carrying the accumulated exhaustion of the entire night shift. He rubbed his aching leg with one hand, massaging the back of his neck with the other as he made his way to the master bedroom.
The door was ajar, so Jack peeked in quietly. The room was bathed in shadows, the curtains drawn tight, with a lump tangled in the bedsheets that left just a tuft of brown hair peeking out against the pillow.
A remarkably soft smile completely transformed the veteran's hardened features. The bone-deep exhaustion seemed to just evaporate for an instant.
He turned toward the en-suite bathroom. In less than five minutes, he'd stripped off his scrubs, taken a rapid-fire shower to wash off all the hospital germs, and pulled on some simple lounge clothes.
He stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying his hair before tossing the towel over a chair and walking over to the bed. He carefully lifted the edge of the duvet and slipped beneath the sheets, immediately hit by the warmth radiating from the body occupying the other half of the bed.
Jack closed the distance, wrapping an arm around his partner's waist and pulling him flush against his chest. He buried his face in the base of his neck, pressing a deep kiss into the curve of his shoulder.
Robby let out a low, sleepy murmur, shifting to press back against him, their faces close.
"Hey..." he greeted, his voice thick with sleep.
"Go back to sleep," Jack ordered softly, leaving another kiss right behind his ear. "I left the bagels and the mocha in the kitchen."
Robby let out a long, shuddering sigh—an exhale of pure contentment—and cuddled closer to him.
"That's why I married you. I love you."
Jack smiled, resting his chin on his husband's head. He closed his eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his partner's breathing lull him to sleep.
"Love you too. Go to sleep."
Abbot draped his leg over Robby's to tangle their limbs together, feeling his consciousness fading fast into that constant, familiar warmth.