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When Santos arrives for her shift, she’s half-convinced she’s seeing things. She’s halfway to wondering if she should schedule a check-up when she hears Whitaker murmurs a hearty, “What the fuck?” under his breath and bolt towards the hallucination.
This is why she should have invested in better training classes. She’s never going to get full control of him, now.
Then again, is she surprised that he took off? There’s a golden retriever on a leash near the benches outside the hospital and he’s really fucking cute. Even Santos can admit that. She approaches at a way more normal speed and by the time she’s there, Whitaker is on his knees, both hands buried deep in the dog’s fur. The reason why this all seems very dubious is who the dog happens to be attached to.
Santos sighs and heads over to nip this problem in the bud. “No. You can’t keep him.”
His owner is clearly not amused. Luckily, said owner is Dr. Abbot and he doesn’t scare Santos anymore, so even if he does own the cute dog, she’s immune to whatever he’s got on tap for her. “He’s not for sale,” Abbot deadpans.
“I was talking about you taking Whitaker. You know what they say about dogs needing company, but I’ve gotten used to this little scamp in my house,” she says, ruffling Whitaker’s hair. She smirks at him, but he’s apparently so taken by the dog that he’s not even paying attention. “New dog, huh?”
“New dog,” Abbot confirms. “Trying out something.”
“What’d you name him?”
“Doc.”
Santos tips her head to the side. “Seriously?”
“After Doc Holliday, give me a break,” Abbot complains. He eyes Whitaker and the dog. “You had him sprayed for fleas?” he deadpans. “We’re still working on Doc’s vaccine schedule and he’s currently compromised.”
Whitaker rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t stop patting the dog. “We?” he echoes, which is good, because at least Santos doesn’t have to play investigative detective all the time if someone else is going to do it for her. She’s also super suspicious of the ‘we’ in this case, because as far as Princess and Perlah know, it’s not like Abbot’s with anyone.
That, or maybe he’s better at keeping secrets than they are at rooting them out.
Doubtful, but hey, sometimes their gossip takes a while to catch up.
“The general we. Me and my vet,” Abbot replies, wrapping the leash a little tighter around his hand. “Speaking of, we were just on our way there. I’m done buttering him up with affection from this place, now he’s gonna go learn about the real world.”
Whitaker actually looks pretty crushed by that, enough so that as Abbot heads off with Doc, Santos feels compelled to lay down the law. “I already took in one stray,” she warns. “We’re not getting a mascot.”
“I wasn’t gonna suggest that,” Whitaker says and he probably wasn’t, but she can tell that it’s the kind of speculative idea that could have grown if she’d let it. They’re both busy and work crazy hours, the last thing they need is to introduce an animal into that mix.
Besides, Santos thinks as she watches Abbot lead Doc into his car. She gets the feeling that won’t be the last of Doc that they see in the coming months.
Santos is right about that one.
(Of course she is, she’s always right)
“Your dog is so cute!” Jiavadi says, but there’s a slightly distressed tone hiding behind the admiration. Santos gets it. She won’t say it out loud, but she gets it. Abbot’s new golden retriever is basically the most adorable thing she’s ever seen in the world and it’s almost difficult to cope with.
The distressing and annoying part is that Doc basically ignores anyone other than Abbot. Sure, he’ll allow people to pat him and fawn over him, but it’s not like Doc ever reacts. He just sits there like the good boy he is, not a tail wag, not a happy bark, nothing.
It’s definitely enough to drive you crazy and make you realize just how far you might go for a dog’s approval.
There is one exception to Doc’s complete indifference.
The other day, Abbot had come in for a prescription refill. Somehow, he’d managed to convince Princess and Perlah not to narc on him for bringing the dog inside. That’s when Santos found out that Doc actually could like someone other than Abbot.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Dana is not happy about the dog, but given that it’s Abbot, the most he gets is a slightly stern look. “What’d I tell you about letting the riff-raff in?”
“That I only get to do it when I bring you dinner,” Abbot says, lifting up a bag full of sandwiches. In the midst of the chaos, he’s loosened his grip on the leash. Instead of sitting patiently like Doc normally does, he turns into another dog entirely. He’s sitting, but it’s far from perfect. He’s acting completely unlike the dog she’s met before, whining and wriggling and suddenly acting wild.
Santos eyes him warily. “Do we need a dog priest or something? Am I about to witness a dog exorcism?”
“It’s normal,” Abbot says, as if Doc lying down, wriggling, and wagging his tail like he’s about to take off is normal. “He’ll calm down once…”
“Hey, big guy!”
Has Santos ever heard Robby sound like that before? She’s actually not sure that she has.
Doc yelps and starts eagerly pulling at his leash to get to Robby’s side and it’s only once Abbot lets that happen that Doc calms down, pressing right up against Robby’s leg while Robby digs his hands into Doc’s fur and gets in there. It looks meditative as shit and honestly, it makes Santos wonder if this is the kind of hobby that she should get into.
“If Gloria catches you…” Dana warns.
Robby shoots back a dubious look. “Please. You’ll hide him behind the nurse’s desk. Don’t pretend.” It’s not like it’s even about the dog. Everyone would do something to protect Robby, and plus, who’d rat out on an adorable dog?
“Five more minutes, and then you’re both out of here,” Dana says, clearly not totally convinced.
“You heard the woman,” Abbot says with a whistle and a light tug. “C’mon, boy, let’s get out of here. You can pester Robby later.”
Later? Santos raises a brow and goes back to work, but that little nugget of knowledge works its way into her brain and starts digging in deeper.
Santos prides herself on noticing shit. Maybe she’s not entirely always proud of what she does with the things she notices. The whole ‘wrecking ball’ approach sometimes gets her in more trouble than she intends to. She’s working on not being a totally abrasive force of nature trying to make other people see her point of view. It’s early days, but she’s working on it.
That’s not the point, though. The point is that she notices and her brain isn’t the type to just let it go.
She shifts into high alert, starting to notice more evidence in the following weeks. It quickly becomes clear that what happened wasn’t a one-off, but a pattern. Doc is a great dog. He’s friendly and genial and calm.
Then, Robby turns up, and Doc transforms.
Then, all of a sudden, he’s cuddly and sweet and a little demanding. If Robby stops petting him for all of two seconds, Doc basically inserts himself right under Robby’s hand. He’s snuggly and whiny and clearly craves Robby’s attention in a way that’s unique to anyone else.
She could leave it alone.
Then again, if she did, is she really Trinity Santos? She’s not good at leaving anything alone, which is why she intends to get to the bottom of this.
She gets her chance a few weeks later.
“Hey.” Santos feels like this is her shot. Abbot’s here a little later today to finish up his paperwork and he’s not even on the roof. She’s heard that’s where he goes when his shift has been a complete shitshow. That must mean he’s in a halfway good mood and primed for her. “Can I ask you a weird question?”
“I’m surprised you’re asking for permission.”
So is she, but hey, maybe Whitaker is rubbing off on her and she’s learning manners. Or maybe, more realistically, she wants to stay on Abbot’s good side and not piss him off. Either way, it means she’s going to try out being polite.
“How come your dog only likes Robby?”
Abbot snorts. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. What? What’d you think I wanted to know?”
“I figured you had a dozen questions that have nothing to do with Doc having a favorite human.”
She does. She’s pretty sure that she’s not allowed to ask them. Well, or that she could ask them, but Abbot would get really annoyed with her and really quickly. It’s a lot safer to bring up the dog topic right now. “I mean, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d want to answer any of them.”
She shouldn’t give up her chance, though.
“Unless you do,” she says eagerly. “In which case, I’m happy to drop any dog-related questions in favor of me getting to ask…” She does a little bit of mental math to figure out how much leverage she has to work with. “Four questions about surgeries that you’ve done in the field.”
That feels fair.
Abbot seems to be considering it too. “You’ll drop the dog thing?”
“Is there something I need to drop?” She’s happy to play dumb. “I heard about the compression therapy you did with that venous leg ulcer with a patient.” This is definitely worth dropping her curiosity (for now). Abbot seems content to make the deal, too, because he gestures for Santos to follow him as he pulls charts and answers all her questions for almost an hour straight.
It feels a little unfair that she’s getting so much out of this deal, but she’s here to learn and she’ll do it anyway she can. If that means threatening Abbot with questions about his personal life and his pet, that’s what she’ll do.
For now, at least.
After all, she’s never met an itch she could ignore scratching for long. It’s only a matter of time before she goes back on the attack, but until then, she might as well reap the benefits for as long as possible.
“She’s gonna figure it out.”
Santos presses her back against the wall before someone sees her. True, there’s a thousand people that Robby could be talking about, but seeing as she saw him talking to Abbot and she’s been hounding him for answers – pun intended – she figures it has to be about her.
Maybe if she stays out of sight, she’ll finally get her answer.
“You seriously want that kind of information getting around?”
“She’s gonna find out,” Robby repeats, his tone a little more serious. “Look. Is it a little embarrassing? Yeah. It is. No one else has noticed like she has. I trust her to keep it to herself.”
“You do, huh?”
“I do. So, Trinity, you wanna come out from around that corner?” Robby lifts his voice slightly, proving that she’s not nearly as sneaky as she thinks.
She presses her head against the wall for a second as she debates just how badly she wants this career in medicine. Then, she thinks about how annoying it would be to have to work somewhere else where she can’t find Garcia for a quick hookup after work.
Yeah. Okay. It’s worth it to face the music for that.
She rounds the corner, attempting a recalcitrant apology aura. “I wasn’t eavesdropping,” she says, which is true. She just happened to be in the same vicinity when they started talking about her. She didn’t plan for it. She hasn’t even been trying to figure out whatever it is that’s got Doc so enamored with Robby, but she’s definitely got a very strong theory.
She just hasn’t had the time to prove it. At least, until now. Now, it seems absolutely clear. They want to get ahead of it, which means that it’s going to get around soon enough, and they want control of the narrative.
“Look,” Abbot says, “I’m still not convinced you know anything, but Robby’s told me that you’re basically a bloodhound. So, instead of sitting back and letting you figure it out, we’re gonna get ahead of it. So that’s why I wanted to tell you that —”
“You’re dating. You live together.” She can’t help herself. She knows she should have let Abbot finish, but she got ahead of herself and she blurted it out, and now she’s feeling like she wants the earth to swallow her whole because they’re both looking at her with equal parts shock (Robby) and smug delight (Abbot).
Robby makes a little sound that makes Santos think she’ll get to do the Heimlich on her boss today, but then he knocks his chest a few times and it seems to shake the disbelief loose. “Well, I mean…”
“Yeah,” Abbot cuts him off. “That’s not exactly the thing we thought you’d figured out.” He cocks his head toward Robby, shrugging as the corners of his lips turn down in consideration. “Maybe we didn’t have to tell her.”
“We definitely have to tell her now.”
“Fine. Spoilspot,” Abbot says. “So you probably noticed that Doc likes Robby more than pretty much anyone else.”
“I kind of assumed that’s because you’re dating,” Santos says, her words drawn out and slow, feeling like maybe they’re the ones missing something. She hears herself. Her logic is impeccable. Obviously it’s just that. “Don’t dogs love the people that their owners like the most?”
“Sure. Typically. Yeah. Except, Doc’s not your average dog.”
“I mean, sure, he’s cute,” Santos says. She’s biting back a comment so she doesn’t insult Abbot by telling him that every dog owner thinks their pet is the cutest thing that’s ever graced the planet, and hey, Doc’s cute, but he’s not that cute.
Robby is cupping his neck with both hands, staring at the ground as he winces, illuminating every single wrinkle around his eyes. “Jack means that he’s not just a dog. He’s a therapy dog. Specifically, the type of therapy dog that helps with anxiety and depression. I happen to be his favorite case.”
Oh.
Oh. This was probably less awkward when she thought it had to do with Abbot fucking Robby. Now, she’s faced with the discomfiting knowledge that not only is Abbot fucking Robby, but they’re living together, and she has brand new information about Robby’s mental state.
Suddenly, Santos is revisiting that whole ‘retire from medicine forever to get away from this awkward situation’.
What does she even say in this situation? Wow, at least you get a dog to like you feels wrong. Should she congratulate them on dating? Maybe she should be promising not to spill the beans to anyone else about both the relationship and the dog. Or maybe she should just be glad that at least Robby’s getting some kind of support for his emotional ocean of issues.
Her silence drags on until Abbot forcefully gestures toward her. “I told you so. We could have kept it quiet.”
“Please,” Robby waves him off, the two of them walking away from Santos like she’s not even there at all. “She would have figured it out and I know how much you hate when the staff gossips about you.”
They leave her like they haven’t just completely blown up her world. At least Santos was right about the dating thing. She just didn’t count on the part where a therapy dog apparently identified him as someone desperately in need of clinical help. Not that she’s ever going to say this one out loud, but he clearly needs it, if he’s not going to therapy (and given the gossip from Princess and Perlah, he’s definitely not).
She’s still stuck in the cycle of paralyzing thoughts when Whitaker rounds the corner, handing her bag over to her so they can head out. “I just ran into Abbot and his dog,” he says, looking somewhat despondent. “How come I can’t get Doc to like me as much as he likes Robby?” Whitaker complains.
It’s the perfect distraction. No need to worry about whether she’s fucked with her superiors when she’s got Whitaker to take her mind off it.
Santos claps him on the shoulder and gives him the usual rough wiggle she does when Whitaker is starting to get a little dejected and down in the dumps. “Aw,” she says with a mock sympathetic smile. “If you keep this up, you don’t have to worry at all. You’re gonna end up his favorite.”
She’ll keep the dog’s secret. Robby’s, too.
As for the dating part? Well. Santos might be a bloodhound, but this place is like the open ocean and there’s a lot of sharks in the water. A couple droplets of blood and the rest of them are going to figure that one out.
“C’mon,” she tells Whitaker, slinging her bag on her shoulder to get out of there. “I’ll take you to the shelter so you can look longingly at a dog that you’ll wear me down into.”
“Promise?”
Yeah. she probably does. She’s already taken in one stray at this point, though. Why not open the door to at least one more? She should have known that this is where it was always going to lead, but at least she got to live in denial for just a little while longer.
“Yeah. Come on. Let’s go find you a friend.”
Because at the end of the day, Trinity Santos is a sucker for a pair of puppy-dog eyes. She should have known that this is always where it was going to end up, but at least it’s the kind of inevitable that comes with some adorable cuddles.