Work Text:
Hope really hates mornings. If it weren’t for her job, which she loves, she’d prefer to not leave the comfort of her bed before the sun is high in the sky. Josie realizes this after noting a pattern of Hope not answering her texts until at least 10 in the morning, and there was that very unfortunate phone call.
The two had been trying to go on a real date for almost two weeks, but their conflicting schedules and demanding jobs made it difficult. Instead, they had only managed to meet up for coffee a few times, and Josie noticed that Hope wasn’t very talkative until after she’d had a couple sips of coffee. At first, she chalked it up to Hope being a caffeine addict.
It’s 9 A.M. on a Wednesday, but Josie was feeling surprisingly energized as she hopped out of bed, some obscure melody already stuck in her head. As she stood in the shower and let the heat of the water wash away her grogginess, a thought occurred to her that she should call Hope to see if she was available to grab breakfast or at least coffee. Hope told her yesterday that she had today off. Josie debates with herself for a few moments about it. She would hate to seem desperate, because she’d been the one to suggest they get coffee every time in the last few weeks.
Fuck it, she thought. Didn’t fortune favor the bold or some bullshit like that? She’d do exactly what her sister, Lizzie, always begged her to do and go for it. Anyways, she was pretty sure Hope was just as interested, if her constantly texting Josie and sending her silly pictures were anything to go by.
It was the third ring, and Hope still hadn’t answered. Josie considers hanging up before Hope finally did pick up.
“Hello?” Hope growled, her voice rough with sleep.
“Um...hi, Hope,” Josie greeted timidly. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”
“Oh shi--hey, Josie. Hi,” she says and clears her throat. Josie can hear shuffling in the background. “Sorry for my grumpiness.”
“I did wake you up,” Josie concludes. “I’m sorry! You can just call me back later?” Josie felt so guilty she nearly just hung up.
“No! Jo, no. I’m awake. What’s up?”
“Well, um, I don’t work until later tonight so I was just wondering if you wanted to go get some breakfast? We don’t have to, though.” Josie nearly cringes at her own nervousness.
God, I’m so not smooth, she chastises herself. Why did I fucking call? Why didn’t I just text like a normal person? She probably thinks I’m a weirdo now. A desperate weirdo.
“I’d love to, Jo,” Hope says quickly, interrupting Josie’s spiralling thoughts. “Where were you thinking?”
“Really, Hope, we don’t have to--”
“Josie,” Hope calls out firmly before Josie can start to ramble and chicken out. “I want to get breakfast with you.”
Josie finds herself smiling at Hope’s confident tone of voice. It makes her feel wanted, for some reason. Plus, in the back of her mind, Josie secretly finds it very sexy.
“Now could you please tell me where so we can meet before we’re old?” Hope adds with a laugh. “I’m starving.”
“Okay, don’t Hulk out on me,” Josie snarks back but she’s smiling uncontrollably.
“No. I’m supposed to be Wolverine. Remember?”
Josie hums and tells Hope about the cute diner she noticed one day, when she’d taken a different route to work to avoid traffic.
Josie wraps her hands around the fragrant cup of coffee in front of her for some warmth. It was a crisp winter morning, a few days before Christmas. The kind that crackles with nostalgia and anticipation, because it reminds her of when she and Lizzie would spend their winter breaks snooping around the presents under the tree. That was then, before the loss of their mom. Before their dad drifted further and further away from them and into a bottle. He’s better now, but some things, once broken, can never be fully mended.
She looks up when she hears the bells above the door jingle. Hope struts in, cheeks and nose flushed from the cold, and the sight fills Josie with affection. Hope’s eyes dance around the cafe before catching Josie’s, and her face lights up with a grin.
She slides into the booth across from Josie and starts to remove her scarf and coat.
“Morning, Jo,” Hope greets, her eyes taking in Josie’s outfit. She’s wearing a comfy sweater, hair falling in waves, nothing special. Hope seems to like it, though, judging from the way she’s smiling gently. “You look cozy.”
“Hey,” Josie answers shyly. “So do you.” Actually, she particularly appreciates how Hope’s flannel shirt wraps around her shoulders. It looks soft enough for Josie to rub her cheeks against. Not that she’ll ever voice that desire out loud.
Josie peels her eyes away from leering at Hope’s arms resting on the table and notices that she’s been caught staring. She’s embarrassed, but Hope definitely doesn’t seem to mind. They hold each other’s gaze for a long few seconds.
“So,” Hope claps her hands excitedly. “What’s on the menu?”
She’s watching in awe as Hope inhales her order of French toast and sausage. Her cheeks are bulging, and she reminds Josie a bit of a chipmunk. She debates teasing Hope about it.
“What time does your shift start tonight?” Hope asks after she swallows her food.
“Seven,” Josie answers around a bite of her own strawberry pancakes. “Why? You’re not planning on getting injured again, are you?” she asks in a teasing tone.
“Not tonight, darling,” Hope doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m spending my day off as the couchiest potato you’ve ever seen.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
“Fine. Maybe five minutes at the gym. My friend Rafael has been wanting to spar, but I haven’t had time,” Hope shrugs. “But then I’m going right back on the couch to catch up on some trashy TV.”
“Spar?” Josie’s ears perked up at that.
“The gym I go to is a mixed martial arts one. I go there to work out often, but I prefer not to spar with strangers. So, I have to wait until one of my friends is free.”
“Why don’t you like fighting with strangers?” The question falls from her mouth easily, but Josie wonders if she shouldn’t have asked when Hope shifts, a little uncomfortably, in her seat.
“People just don’t know their limits,” she states finally. “And they push a little too far. New guys will come in there and see someone like me and think ‘easy prey.’ Then I’d bruise their ego,” Hope smiles cockily. “Now there’s tension at the gym we all go to, and it’s just unpleasant.”
“Sure of ourselves, aren’t we,” Josie raises an eyebrow to challenge Hope’s cocksure attitude.
She knows she’s only poking to see more of Confident Hope. She’s usually so soft and sweet with Josie, which Josie adores, but she wants to see all the facets of Hope Mikaelson. Plus, Confident Hope is fucking sexy, and Josie is only mortal.
“I am,” Hope shoots back. “You’re more than welcome to see for yourself one of these days. After our first date, of course,” Hope adds, not breaking eye contact as she pops a sliced strawberry in her mouth. It draws Josie’s eyes to her plump lips.
Damn this woman. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
“You know, at some point I think we’ll need to accept that breakfast dates count, too. Otherwise, we won’t be officially dating until next year.” Josie regrets her words immediately. What kind of desperate thing is that to say, Saltzman!
Hope hums in thought, “Call me old fashioned, but my family always taught me that it’s important to sweep a girl off her feet.” The statement makes Josie blush and she has to look down at her coffee to avoid Hope’s eyes.
“Not that I don’t love this little diner, but you watching me shovel French toast in my mouth doesn’t exactly scream romance,” Hope jokes.
“No,” Josie chuckles. “But you’re cute when you do it.” Now it’s Hope’s turn to be flustered.
“Do you have any Christmas plans?” Hope asks after clearing her throat.
“Well, normally, Lizzie and our mom would come back home, but this year they’re both staying in Europe,” Josie answers wistfully. Hope gives her a sympathetic smile. “Mom is a curator for the Musée du Luxembourg, and Lizzie has been helping her for the last year or so. They just got a new collection scheduled for exhibition in January, so they’ve been working nonstop to smooth out the details.”
“Wow, so your whole family’s impressive, huh?” Hope teases. “I’ve always wanted to visit that place.”
“You know it?” Josie is once again pleasantly surprised by Hope Mikaelson. “Most people only know about the Louvre when they think about Paris museums.”
“Oh come on. An art museum inside a palace?” Hope’s eyes are lit up with excitement. “That sounds like a dream come true.”
“Hope Mikaelson! You didn’t tell me you were an art connoisseur,” Josie exclaims. “My mom would love you!”
“Already planning to introduce me to your family, huh?” Hope asks mischievously, causing Josie to stumble over her next words.
“I--shut up!” Josie replies inelegantly, and Hope chuckles at her. The scoundrel.
“To answer your question,” Hope says casually. “I do some painting myself, and my dad was a huge art lover. He actually taught me how to paint.”
“What?” Josie gasps. “You have to show me your work.”
“Soon,” Hope smiles coyly. “Does this mean you’re spending Christmas alone?”
“Not completely. I’ll probably go see my dad at some point,” she trails off. Hope seems to take the hint that this is not a topic she wants to elaborate on.
“Which unit do they have you working in tonight?” Hope asks after a moment.
“Oncology,” Josie replies. “I’m mostly going to be keeping an eye on the inpatients overnight.”
“That’s what you want to specialize in, right?” Hope asks as she lazily forks a piece of melon into her mouth.
“Yeah,” Josie replies with a smile playing at her lips. “You remembered?”
“Of course,” Hope says with a shrug.
Josie had only told her in passing on one of their coffee dates.
“You never told me why, though. Why oncology?”
Josie takes a second to gather her courage.
“Um, my mom. My biological mom. She passed away from breast cancer when Lizzie and I were 4,” she says quietly. Hope silently reaches out to give her hand a squeeze. She doesn’t let go.
“I was named after her, actually. Our godmother Caroline took over full time mom duties after that.”
Hope looks at her in understanding, thumb gently stroking the back of Josie’s hand.
“She’d be so proud of you, Dr. Josette Saltzman,” Hope smiles softly at her.
Josie contemplates her statement for a second before saying “Thank you. She was a doctor, too. Dr. Josette Saltzman.” She chuckles.
Hope smiles brightly at her, “Like mother, like daughter, huh?”
Josie doesn’t reply, but she secretly hopes that Hope is right. That Josie is making her mom proud. She can feel something tight building in her chest.
“I’ll be checking in on one of my favorite patients tonight,” Josie decides to talk about a subject that won’t make her want to cry. “Mrs. Diaz. She’s in for chemo, and it seems to be helping. Her daughter gave her an origami book to help with the boredom, so every time I visit, she gives me another one of her successes.”
“That’s really sweet,” Hope remarks gently.
“So far, she’s given me a lily, a crane, and a frog. It can actually hop, too!” Josie squeaks out excitedly, and it makes Hope smile widely
“Okay, I’d like to see that.”
“I’m sure you will,” Josie doesn’t hesitate.
She doesn’t know how, but something about Hope makes Josie think she’s going to be sticking around for a while.
Josie leaves the quick stand up meeting with the other residents and begins doing her rounds immediately. She really is looking forward to chatting with Mrs. Diaz, so she always saves her visit for last. The woman has a naturally friendly air about her. The first night they’d met, she even managed to coax Josie into talking about her love life, of all things.
After thorough check ups of all her other patients, Josie walks towards Mrs. Diaz’s room with a spring in her step. She’s probably going to want updates on Josie’s thing with Hope. She wonders what sort of paper Mrs. Diaz has made for her this time.
Josie turns the corner into the room, a greeting already on her lips.
“Good evening, Mrs. Diaz!”
Her greeting goes unanswered, because the bed is empty. It doesn’t look slept in. The whole room is pristine, actually, devoid of the personal items that Mrs. Diaz would leave lying around--the framed photo of her daughter and grandkids, the origami book, and the collection of colorful folding papers.
Josie logically knows what it means, but a part of her brain is loudly arguing against that conclusion.
“Andrew,” Josie calls out stiffly as she approaches the nurse’s station.
“Hey Josie,” he looks up from his computer to greet her. “What do you need?”
“Where’s Mrs. Diaz? Did she get moved to another room,” she asks, mentally begging the universe to let the answer be yes.
Andrew’s face drops, eyes softening regretfully. “I’m sorry. She passed away a few days ago.”
He continues talking, but Josie can’t seem to register what he’s saying. She vaguely nods to acknowledge the information before making her way to the nearest call room.
Josie barely manages to close the door before the tears start spilling uncontrollably. I should’ve known better, she chides herself angrily. She should have known better than to get close to a patient like that.
It was too late, though. She remembers Mrs. Diaz was half-way watching some soap opera while doing origami the first time Josie met her. She remembers how Mrs. Diaz disclosed that she was planning on taking a trip to Hawaii with her daughter once she got better, because she’d never been before. She remembers the woman listening with keen interest when she told her about Hope during her last visit.
She realizes now that was truly the last visit, and it makes Josie sob even harder. Her shoulders shake with the force of her emotions, and Josie feels the familiar ache of grief bubbling up her chest and consuming her once again.
By the time her shift ends, Josie feels like the walking dead. Fortunately, nothing else happened that required her to interact too much with other people. She was on automatic for the rest of the night. She did routine check ups, marked up charts, and snuck into any available empty room to cry every time another wave of sadness hit.
She’s dead on her feet as she changes out of her scrubs. Josie finally checks her phone for the first time since her shift started. There were a few notifications from her social media apps, as well as two texts from Hope. The first one is a photo of Hope taking a huge bite of pizza with the caption “Day off. Pizza on.” The second text is Hope asking Josie how her shift was. It was sent less than 30 minutes ago. It makes Josie want to cry again so she rushes out of the locker room for her car.
Josie sits inside the car for a good 5 minutes, debating whether or not to text Hope back. She wonders why Hope is up so early. She wants to talk to Hope. Wants to feel her gentle, comforting touch. Wants to see her kind eyes looking at her with so much understanding that it’s almost scary.
It’s terrifying actually, that she already feels so needy for Hope’s attention when they’ve only known each other for a few weeks. She decides against contacting Hope.
It’s too much, too soon, Josie tells herself resolutely. I can’t burden her with this.
So she doesn’t reply to Hope. She silently drives herself home and buries herself in her blankets, allowing a fitful sleep to take over.
When Josie wakes up, it’s late in the afternoon. She slowly adjusts to the light streaming into the windows and rolls over to blink at the ceiling. She’s somehow still bone-tired.
Josie checks her phone for the time and notices 2 missed calls: one from her dad and one from Hope. She knows she should call them back, especially Hope. God, I really want to talk to Hope.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she lies there for a few more minutes before her stomach grumbles. Finally, she drags herself out of bed and into the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower.
Josie makes herself a cup of coffee and munches on a snickerdoodle, the back of her mind nagging her to get some real food. She’s about to call her go-to Thai place for delivery when her phone lights up with a text notification.
Hope Mikaelson (4:23)
Hey I’m sorry for blowing up your phone, but I just want to make sure you’re okay.
Hope Mikaelson (4:23)
That was stupid. I’m sure you’re fine. I’m just paranoid. Sorry!
And Josie can’t stand it any more. The grown up part of her brain that doesn’t want to obligate Hope in her own emotional turmoil is being drowned out by the part that needs comfort. She decides to take Hope’s texts as a sign, and she also can’t just leave Hope hanging like this.
(4:24)
Hey. I’m sorry I haven’t texted back. Something happened during my shift. I was really tired and out of it. I’m okay though. Thank you for checking in.
Hope Mikaelson (4:24)
What happened? Do you want to talk about it?
Josie pauses for a minute before making a decision.
(4:26)
Can I call you?
Hope Mikaelson (4:26)
Of course, Jo.
So Josie does. Hope picks up immediately.
“Jo?”
“Hey, Hope.” Josie tries to find a way to explain what happened, but she feels a lump forming in her throat. The tears start up again.
“Are you okay?” Hope asks worriedly once she hears the sniffles coming from Josie.
“I don’t think so,” her voice cracks on the last syllable.
“I can come over. Is that okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Just text me the address. I’ll be right there, Jo.”
Josie opens the door to find Hope in ruffled clothing and a messy ponytail. She’s holding some take-out in one hand.
“I got you some minestrone soup,” Hope offers. She tries to form a smile, but her eyes are filled with worry.
Josie realizes she must look like a mess. She’s wearing rumpled pajamas, face probably puffy from crying.
“Thank you,” she replies and steps aside to let Hope in. Hope places the soup on the kitchen counter, before turning back to her.
“I figured you probably haven’t eaten. You should eat the soup first, and then we can talk.”
Josie doesn’t know what comes over her, but she marches over to Hope and wraps her up in a hug, relishing Hope’s warmth and solidness. She’s there, like Josie just knew she would be.
“Mrs. Diaz. She’s gone. I found out last night during my shift.”
“Oh, Jo. I’m so sorry.”
Hope gently cradles Josie’s head with one hand and gently rubs her back with the other, and they just stand there like that for a long while.
They’re cuddled up on the couch, Hope with her back against one armrest and Josie with her back against Hope’s front. Hope’s legs bracket Josie, and her hands are gently stroking Josie’s arm and hair.
Josie finished her soup a little while ago, and they’ve been sitting in silence before Josie breaks it.
“I don’t know why it hit me so hard,” Josie whispers. “I shouldn’t have let myself get attached, I know that.”
“You can’t help it. You just have a huge heart”
“I’ve watched people die before, during my shifts in trauma, but this is the first time I’ve lost someone I actually know .”
Hope nods in understanding.
“It brought back memories of my mom,” she admits. Hope gently wraps her arms around Josie and pulls her even closer. “It shouldn’t be this hard, still.”
“There’s no ‘should’ when it comes to grief. It works on its own schedule, and sometimes it makes a surprise appearance. You’re not weak or whatever negative thing you’re thinking about yourself right now,” Hope states bluntly. “You’re just grieving.”
Josie allows Hope’s words to sink in for a moment.
“How do you always know what to say?” Josie asks as she turns around to look into Hope’s eyes.
Hope takes a deep breath, “After I lost my parents, I had a really hard time processing my feelings. It made me angry and hateful, mostly towards myself, but I acted out because of that.” She stares blankly, lost in the memories.
“It took my aunts, my friends, and a whole lot of therapy before I could even begin to process my emotions. My fears,” Hope continues. “You’re brave, you know that? You lost your mother to something so ruthless, but instead of letting it control your life, you took charge. You decided to become a doctor so you could fight against the thing that took your mom.”
“Sometimes it feels like a fool’s errand,” Josie chuckles mirthlessly.
Hope entwines their hands, eyes boring into Josie’s.
“There will be bad days. Days like this,” Hope says gently but firmly. “And then...there will be days when you watch a patient leave that hospital room, happily reunited with their family. Those are the days when you’ll know that you’ve made the right choice.”
And Josie kisses her deeply, because it feels like there are no words that could encapsulate how Hope is making her feel. Safe. Cared for. Loved. That last one scares her a little bit, but she decides to silent it with the press of their lips.
It deepens and turns heated. She doesn’t know which of them lets out a quiet moan when their tongues meet, and she doesn’t care. Josie turns around fully and nearly straddles Hope, running her fingers through her hair. Hope’s hands firmly grasp onto Josie’s hips.
A thought pops into Josie’s head and she pulls away, but only a few inches.
“Don’t you have work today?”
Hope looks up at her dazed and breathing heavily.
“Um, I called my aunt earlier and asked her for today off, too. I’m still on call, but I don’t have to come in unless something happens.”
“She was okay with that?”
“I told her you needed me,” Hope smiles sheepishly. “Besides, she always says I work too much,” Hope adds with a chuckle.
“I see,” Josie bites her own lip as she stares at Hope’s.
“So, I’m at your disposal,” Hope smirks mischievously.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Anything you need me for.”
“I wouldn’t say that, if I were you. I can be known to be pretty needy,” Josie shoots back.
“Feel free to use me,” Hope’s flirtatious tone sets off something warm at Josie’s core.
Fuck, Hope, she mentally curses. At least she thought she did it mentally, because Hope’s face breaks into a giant grin.
“I mean, if that’s what you want,” she husks out. Josie playfully hits her shoulder, but Hope surges up to capture her lips once again.
And Josie was right, Hope is going to stick around for a while.