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He jumps up like a shot when she walks in.
It's late, almost nine, but everyone is still in watching their latest teenage brain cancer patient like a hawk. Tonight he'll either croak or he'll be en route to a full recovery, and nobody knows which one it'll be.
But instead of focusing on that, something that's actually life or death, he's holed up in his office chewing over the complaint Audrey dumped in his lap several hours earlier.
Which is why seeing Claire walk in sets him on edge.
He feels like they're being watched, like everybody's judging every little thing he says or does around her, seeing favouritism in every smile and word of approval he sends her way.
And it's then that he realises she's been talking for five minutes and he hasn't heard a word.
"...earth to Neil?" she's saying, and he shakes his head slightly.
"What?"
"Are you... okay?" she says, looking at him questioningly. "What's going on?"
"Sorry," he says, and he sits back down in his chair again. He rubs his forehead with both hands. "What's up with Trent?"
"Troy," she corrects, and then she rolls her eyes and drops into the chair in front of his desk. "What's up with you?"
He looks at her for a long moment. Doesn't know whether to spill, to confide in her like he's become so damn used to doing of late, and though he knows it's probably a questionable decision he finds that her steady gaze and faint, perplexed smile is enough to cut through all of his defences like a hot knife in butter.
When she looks at him like that he wants to tell her every secret he's ever had.
"Someone accused me of favouritism," he says, and the words taste sour in his mouth. He hates that he's the reason she's suddenly frowning, wary, her eyes widening as she understands that he means favouritism towards her.
"Favouritism," she echoes. "That's ridiculous- you would never-"
"Of course not," he says, dipping his head. His leg bounces restlessly. "But- I don't know, maybe there is a... concern, Claire."
"What, that you're giving me special treatment?" she says, laughing incredulously. When he doesn't smile back, she frowns and leans forward. "You're not, are you?"
"No, obviously. Not on purpose," he replies. "But... fact is, I see a lot more of you than the other residents. I don't know if I can honestly say that I'm not a little more invested."
She opens her mouth and then closes it again, and on some distant level he's aware that he finds her blush oddly appealing, but it's an impulse he locks down tight before he can quantify it.
"There are no rules against us being friends," Claire says, her voice careful and measured. He smiles slightly, one side of his mouth quirking up.
"No," he says. "And we are friends. I'm always going to look out for you. You know that, right?"
"Of course," she says, and her smile is bashful but warm.
"Good," he says, sitting back in his chair as he regards her. "Because I don't know what Dr Lim is going to do about this," he says, a little awkward. "She might want us working together less." He doesn't know why, but it feels deeply perverse to be talking about his ex to Claire. But he feels the need to warn her, just in case. He can't bear the thought of her believing he's the one pushing her away.
Not when the reality is he just wants to draw her closer.
"I understand," she says quietly, because she always does. And it makes his heart ache that he can't make this better.
He can literally only make it worse.
She nods once, bracingly, and picks up the iPad she came in with again. He sighs, gritting his teeth against the injustice of it all, and stands up as she does, walking a few steps with her.
She looks up at him once as she turns to leave, and she looks reserved and sad, but she smiles kindly at him.
"Claire," he says, unable to keep from speaking her name as she's about to go. She pauses, glances back. "If things were different, I'd be trying to see a lot more of you, not less."
It's as much a confession as can ever be risked between them, and her eyes fly to his in surprise. A ghost of a smile passes over her lips and she exhales slowly.
"Maybe someday you'll be able to," she answers, her voice low. "I won't be your resident forever."
"Then it'll be worth the wait," he replies, and he's rewarded with a smile, a proper smile, the kind that makes her look so radiant it makes him feel like he's catching sunlight in a dark room.
One day, he thinks. One day he will be able to show her just how much he really does favour her.