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The bar was packed.
Bodies pressed close together, the music loud enough that Trinity could feel the bass in her ribs. Spilled drinks left the wooden table sticky under her hands. Someone behind them had been screaming along to the same chorus for the last thirty seconds like it was a religious experience.
Trinity leaned forward over the small round table, squinting at Samira, trying to hear what was actually coming out of her mouth over the person who clearly thought this place was a karaoke bar.
“What did you say?”
Samira blinked back at her.
“What?”
Dennis snorted into his drink, finishing the last of it.
“You two have been doing this for like five minutes.”
“What?” Samira said again, louder this time.
Trinity laughed, the alcohol buzzing in her head. The shots they’d started with were beginning to do their job. Warmth spreading through her chest, the world just a little softer around the edges.
Behind them, the self-appointed karaoke star finally finished the song, belting out the last note with absolutely zero regard for pitch or volume. The music shifted as the next track started, and the woman thankfully stopped singing along.
Dennis raised his empty glass.
“Alright,” he said. “Another round?”
Samira slammed her palm on the table with unnecessary enthusiasm.
“Yes.”
Trinity pointed at her.
“You’re only saying that because it’s my turn to pay.”
Samira didn’t even hesitate.
“Yes, exactly. Make it a double.”
Trinity stared at her.
“Oh, you’re evil.”
Dennis leaned back in his chair, watching the two of them bicker.
“Trin,” he said.
She looked over.
“Go get drinks before Samira starts ordering for the entire bar.”
Samira gasped dramatically.
“I would never.”
“You literally would,” Trinity said.
She grabbed the empty glasses from the table and stood, pausing for half a second as the room tilted just slightly under her feet. Not quite drunk yet, but definitely on her way.
“Alright,” she said. “What are we doing?”
Dennis tapped the table twice.
“Three tequila sodas.”
Samira raised a finger in the air.
“And another round of shots.”
Dennis shook his head.
“No.”
Samira turned to Trinity.
“Shots.”
Trinity considered it for exactly one second.
Why the hell not.
“…shots.”
Dennis groaned.
“Unbelievable.”
Trinity flashed him a grin and started weaving through the crowd toward the bar.
The line was deep, bodies shoulder to shoulder, everyone tried to get the bartender’s attention at once. Trinity squeezed into a gap near the end, resting her elbows against the edge of the counter.
God, she needed a night like this.
She’d taken her time getting ready for once, digging a burgundy dress out of the back of her closet—something soft and fitted that reminded her she had a body that wasn’t just built for twelve-hour shifts. The dress brushed against her thighs when she moved, soft fabric and bare shoulders, black boots replacing the sneakers she practically lived in at work.
Dennis had whistled dramatically when she walked out earlier, earning an immediate eye roll even if she’d secretly taken the compliment.
She almost felt like a normal twenty-something. Like she actually existed outside the hospital. She spent so much time in the ER lately that it had started infiltrating her dreams. Overhead pages echoing in her head, trauma cases playing out in flashes behind her eyes even when she was asleep.
Tonight there were no stretchers. No Monitors beeping. Not even—
Her thoughts cut off abruptly when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Trinity turned around.
“Oh—shit.”
Dr. Yolanda Garcia was standing behind her.
She was holding two glasses of white wine. Dressed in light jeans and a black tank top that showed the toned lines of her arms. Her hair was down tonight, falling loose around her shoulders. The way she looked did absolutely nothing to help the way Trinity’s brain had suddenly stopped working.
“Hi to you too?” Garcia said.
Trinity forced her eyes back up to Garcia’s face.
“Hi,” she said, a little too quickly.
“Hi,” Garcia repeated.
Trinity rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly very aware of the fact that she’d just sworn at her.
“That—wasn’t directed at you,” she said quickly. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Garcia’s eyebrow raised slightly.
“Clearly.”
Trinity huffed out a breath.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, then instatnly grimaced. “That sounded weird. Not like you’re not allowed to be here. Obviously you’re allowed to be here.”
Garcia watched her with quiet amusement.
“Take a breath.”
Trinity pressed her lips together.
“Working on it.”
Garcia nodded toward the bar.
“Waiting for drinks?”
“Yeah.” Trinity gestured vaguely toward the back of the bar, where Dennis and Samira were still at their table. Hopefully far enough away not to notice who she was talking to. “Dennis and Samira dragged me out tonight.”
Garcia smiled a little at that.
“That explains the noise level.”
Trinity laughed softly, then tilted her head.
“What about you?”
Garcia lifted the two glasses she was holding.
“Came out with a friend,” she said. “I should probably get these back to her before she thinks I disappeared. I just saw you over here and figured it would be strange not to say hi.”
Something in Trinity’s chest dropped just a little.
Her.
Oh. Of course.
She forced a nod, trying to look like her heart hadn’t just relocated somewhere near her stomach.
“Nice.”
Garcia studied her for a second, like she was trying to read something Trinity was hoping she wasn’t broadcasting across her face.
“Well, I should probably get back,” she said again, nodding toward the drinks the bartender was setting in front of Trinity. “You guys have fun tonight.”
She turned like she was about to head back into the crowd.
Then she paused, her gaze lingering for a moment as it traced over Trinity’s dress.
“You look nice, by the way.”
For half a second Trinity forgot how words worked.
Her mouth opened—
But Garcia had already turned, slipping easily back into the moving crowd before Trinity could get anything out.
The bartender slid the drinks toward her, setting three tequila sodas and a row of shots onto a narrow black tray. The tequila sat right at the rim of the glasses, threatening to spill with the smallest movement.
“Careful,” he said, pushing it toward her.
Trinity gave a distracted nod and picked up the tray, steadying it with both hands before turning back toward the crowd.
She came out with a friend.
Of course she is seeing other people.
Why wouldn’t she be?
Someone bumped past Trinity’s shoulder and she shifted the tray a bit to keep the glasses from tipping.
It’s not like they had ever actually defined whatever the hell this thing between them was.
It had started with the stupid cocktail she owed Garcia after dropping a scalpel on her foot months ago. Trinity had fully intended to buy her the drink, apologize again, and call it even.
One drink had turned into two.
Two had turned into lingering at the bar long after they’d both said they should probably head home.
And eventually that had turned into going back to Garcia’s place.
After that, things had just… continued.
On the rare nights their schedules lined up, Trinity would end up at Garcia’s place. Sometimes Garcia ended up at hers. They hadn’t gone out for drinks again — they didn’t bother pretending that was the reason they were meeting up.
Dennis had started giving her increasingly suspicious looks every time Garcia’s name came up at work. That probably had something to do with the one time he’d run into Garcia leaving their apartment in the middle of the night.
But still.
It was casual.
Exactly what Trinity had told herself she wanted.
Which was why the thought of Garcia sitting somewhere in this bar with someone else suddenly made her stomach feel weird.
She came up to the table, setting the tray down before dropping back down in her chair.
Dennis’s eyes flicked from the tray of drinks to her face, his expression sharpening.
“Was that Garcia you were just talking to at the bar?”
Trinity reached for one of the shots and handed it to him before answering.
“Um… yeah.”
Dennis gave her a look.
“She said she’s here with a friend.”
“Oh?”
Samira, who had already grabbed a shot off the tray, squinted between them.
“Okay, pause.”
Neither of them looked at her.
Samira pointed the lime wedge vaguely in Trinity’s direction.
“Are we pretending like you and Dr. Garcia aren’t a thing?”
Trinity nearly dropped the shot she’d just picked up for herself.
“What? We’re not— what are you talking about?”
Samira looked deeply offended.
“Oh my god you guys are pretending.”
Trinity whipped around and lightly smacked Dennis on the arm.
“You told her?”
“Hey—ow—no I didn’t!” Dennis said, rubbing his arm and scooting his chair slightly farther away.
“You absolutely did,” Trinity said.
“I absolutely did not!”
Samira waved a hand between them.
“He didn’t tell me.”
Trinity narrowed her eyes.
“…then how do you know?”
Samira stared at her like this was the dumbest question she had ever heard.
“You guys think you’re subtle?”
Dennis snorted.
Trinity groaned, dropping her head into one hand.
“Oh god.”
Samira pointed at her again, now very pleased with herself.
“Whenever she is in the ER, you follow her around like a lost puppy.”
“I do not–” Trinity started.
“You kind of do.” Dennis added.
Trinity looked betrayed.
“Whose side are you on Huckleberry?”
“Reality’s,” he said, grinning. “It also doesn’t help that Garcia’s favorite hobby seems to be flirting with you in the middle of consults and trauma cases.”
Instead of replying, Trinity grabbed her shot and tossed it back before she could think too hard about what he said.
The tequila burned its way down her throat.
“Cheers,” she muttered, holding up the empty glass before setting it back on the table.
She quickly reached for her tequila soda and took a long drink like it was some kind of questionable chaser.
“Jesus.” Dennis said.
“What?” Trinity said, setting the now half full glass back down.
“Nothing,” he said.” Just impressive.
“Cheers,” Samira said, raising her own shot and downing it.
Dennis followed, tossing his back and making a face.
“Anyway,” Trinity cut in quickly, waving a hand like she was physically pushing the previous conversation away. “Samira, weren’t you telling us earlier about that Tinder guy who brought his mom on the first date?”
Samira immediately perked up.
“Oh my god. Yes.”
She launched into the story of her latest terrible Tinder date, a very passionate retelling of how the guy had spent twenty minutes explaining cryptocurrency to her before his mom showed up and crashed their date.
Dennis interrupted halfway through to argue that she should have left.
Samira insisted she had stayed for the free mozzarella sticks.
They kept talking after that.
At some point the conversation drifted back to work, Dennis recounting the time earlier that week when one of the attendings had apparently tried to intubate someone while still holding a coffee.
“Multitasking,” he said.
“Malpractice,” Samira replied.
Another round of shots and drinks appeared. Trinity wasn’t entirely sure who ordered it. Samira, probably.
She picked up the shot anyway and knocked it back. The alcohol had started to settle into her limbs now, a loose warmth spreading through her arms and shoulders, her face beginning to lightly flush with heat.
Trinity laughed when she was supposed to.
Nodded along when Dennis started ranting about the scrub dispenser again.
But the whole time she was trying very hard not to look around the bar.
Every few minutes her eyes drifted toward the crowd anyway. Quick glances, nothing obvious, just trying to see if she could spot her somewhere.
And maybe the friend she’d come with.
She never did.
Across the table, Dennis and Samira had somehow moved on to arguing about the latest drama from Real Housewives of Salt Lake City.
When she hit the bottom of yet another drink, it occurred to her that she had, in fact, consumed a lot of liquid.
“I gotta pee,” Trinity muttered, pushing back from the table.
Trinity stood, steadying herself for a second with a hand on the back of her chair before weaving back into the crowd.
As she pushed through, her eyes flicked across the bar one more time. Just in case.
—
The bathroom was a little quieter than the rest of the bar, the music thudding faintly through the walls.
Trinity stood at the sink, letting the cold water run over her hands for a second longer than necessary before glancing up at the mirror.
Her cheeks were flushed, eyeliner smudged at the corners. Her hair had started doing that frizzy thing it did when the humidity hit it just right.
Her reflection wobbled faintly when she leaned closer to the mirror.
She looked… drunk.
Trinity stared at herself for a second longer.
“Cool,” she muttered.
She dried her hands quickly and pushed away from the sink.
The room shifted as she straightened, and she paused, realizing just how much the alcohol had settled in.
Trinity blew out a slow breath, steadying herself as she headed for the door.
Walking suddenly required a little more thought than she would have preferred.
God, she needed air.
She pushed the bathroom door open and followed the short hallway toward the side exit.
The alley door creaked as she pulled it open, stepping outside into the cooler night air. A small cluster of people from the bar stood near the opposite brick wall, smoking and laughing between drags.
Trinity leaned back against the brick wall, pulling her vape out from a small pocket in her handbag. She took a slow inhale, the familiar menthol cooling her throat before she let the smoke drift out into the alley.
She pulled out her phone with her other hand, opening the group chat with Dennis and Samira.
She had to focus to make sure she hit the right letters, the screen blurring.
outside vaping if you degenerates want to join
Samira often joined her outside of a bar, she loved a good drunk cigarette. She’d never actually bought a pack in her life, but somehow always managed to end up with one by the end of the night, sweet-talking whatever guy happened to be standing nearby.
Dennis, on the other hand, had tried Trinity’s vape exactly once.
He’d been extremely drunk. He’d taken one long hit, turned green almost immediately, and thrown up in a bush 30 seconds later. He hadn’t touched one since.
Trinity took another hit, leaning her head back against the brick wall.
It was a guilty pleasure, honestly. After a long shift, sometimes nothing beat it. The menthol felt stupidly comforting in her lungs. The head rush settling in almost instantly, magnified by the alcohol. She exhaled slowly and glanced down at her phone again.
No response yet.
The longer she stood out here, the harder it was to pretend she wasn’t wondering if Garcia was still inside somewhere.
She stared down at her phone like the screen might magically produce a message and give her something else to think about.
The next drag brought the familiar head rush back stronger, and she closed her eyes, savoring it.
She heard the alley door creak open behind her and someone step out, the distance between them closing quickly.
Trinity assumed it was Samira.
She didn’t bother opening her eyes yet.
“Y’want a hit,” she mumbled, holding the vape out lazily to the side, “or you gonna go find a cig?”
“No thanks,” the voice said calmly beside her. “Those things will kill you.”
Trinity froze.
She knew that voice.
Her eyes snapped open and she turned too quickly to face her, the sudden movement sending the world tilting to some degree under her feet, balance faltering.
A hand closed gently around her arm before she could stumble.
Garcia.
“Whoa,” She said, steadying her with a small laugh. “You good?”
Trinity looked at her, still trying to catch up with the fact that she was standing here.
“Yeah,” she said quickly, waving a hand. “Yeah, I’m good.” She paused. “…drunk.”
Garcia didn’t let go of her arm right away, lingering long enough to make sure Trinity had her balance again.
Then she glanced down at the vape still hanging loosely from Trinity’s fingers.
“I didn’t know you vaped.”
Trinity followed her gaze and lifted it slightly.
“Yeah,” she said, shrugging one shoulder. “Not my best habit.”
Garcia hummed quietly.
“Understatement.”
Trinity had always made a point of hiding it from her before. It felt… juvenile now, realizing that. And if Garcia was out here meeting other people anyway, Trinity could damn well vape if she wanted to.
She took another drag, slower this time, like she had something to prove.
She angled her head away, blowing the smoke toward the open alley instead of Garcia before lowering the vape again.
“So,” she said, drawing the word out. “Where’s your friend?”
Garcia leaned back against the wall beside her, crossing her arms.
“She was pretty tired,” she said. “Her husband came to pick her up. I wanted to try and find you before I left.”
Trinity’s brain snagged on one word.
Husband.
The rest of the sentence took longer to catch up.
“…husband?” she heard herself say.
Garcia watched her for a second.
“…yes?”
“Oh.”
Garcia looked at her for another second, confusion slowly giving way as the corner of her mouth began to lift.
“Wait...”
Trinity went on the defensive straight away.
“What?” she shot back, a little louder than she meant to.
Garcia tipped her head slightly.
“Did you think I was here on a date?”
Trinity scoffed, the sound coming out too quick and a little uneven.
“No.”
Garcia breathed out a quiet laugh.
Trinity took another drag from the vape like it might somehow rescue her from this conversation.
Garcia’s smile spread a little wider, her eyes warm with something that looked suspiciously like satisfaction.
“Oh,” she said softly. “You’re jealous.”
Trinity made a sharp, disbelieving noise.
“I am not.”
“Mmhm.”
Trinity shoved the vape back into her bag, suddenly very aware that the last few hits had gone straight to her head. That was not what she needed right now. The ground felt way more unsteady than it had a minute ago.
“That was not— that was just—”
She stopped.
Her brain stalled out completely.
Garcia watched her struggle through the sentence, clearly enjoying herself.
Trinity huffed and looked away.
“You’re unbelievable,” she muttered.
Garcia let out a small laugh.
“And you’re wasted.”
“Correct.” The word came out without hesitation.
There was a beat of quiet between them.
Trinity shifted her weight, then looked back at her.
“If you’re leaving,” she said, “why’d you come find me?”
Garcia pushed herself off the wall, stepping a little closer.
“I told you, I wanted to say hi before I left.”
Trinity squinted at her.
“That’s not the real reason.”
“No? Enlighten me.”
Trinity gestured vaguely between them, the movement rather uncoordinated.
“You could’ve texted.”
Garcia smiled again, softer this time.
“Do you want to come home with me?”
Her heartbeat jumped suddenly, loud enough she could feel it pulsing in her throat.
“I drove here,” she added. “So I only had one drink. My place is only a few minutes from here.”
Her brain tried very hard to process several thoughts at once.
“I know.” she started, the words tumbling out too quickly. “I mean—yeah, I—”
The alley door slammed open behind them.
Dennis and Samira spilled outside in a wave of loud laughter. Samira instantly spotted them and stopped short. Dennis followed her gaze, cutting himself off mid-sentence when he noticed the two of them standing there.
“Um– hi, Dr. Garcia,” Samira said automatically.
Then she looked between them.
“Did we interrupt something?”
Garcia, to her credit, looked completely unbothered.
“Not yet,” she said calmly, looking down at Trinity beside her.
Samira’s eyebrows shot up. She looked over at Trinity, grinning like she had just been handed the greatest piece of gossip of her life.
Trinity squeezed her eyes shut for half a second.
Jesus Christ.
Garcia glanced between them and added, “We’re very far away from the hospital. You can call me Yolanda.”
Yolanda.
She realized, dimly, that she hadn’t actually used that name much. Not since the night months ago when Garcia had said the exact same thing over their first drink. They didn’t usually use many words when they saw each other now. The name felt strangely intimate in her head, something softer than Garcia.
Something she wasn’t sure she liked hearing offered so casually to other people.
Dennis squinted at Garcia like he was trying to process that.
“Respectfully,” he said after a moment, “that feels weird.”
Garcia laughed softly.
“That’s fair.”
Dennis cleared his throat and gestured back towards the door.
“We can go back inside.”
Samira nodded enthusiastically.
“We absolutely can.”
Trinity finally managed to make her brain cooperate long enough to speak.
“No, it’s fine,” she muttered, the words coming out a little more slurred than she intended. “Everything’s fine.”
Samira leaned toward Dennis, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“She’s so drunk.”
Trinity resisted the urge to sink directly into the pavement.
Garcia looked over at Trinity before looking back at them.
“Do you two mind if I take her home?”
Samira’s face lit up.
“Oh, please do!” she said, already hooking her arm through Dennis’s and dragging him back toward the door.
She twisted around just before disappearing inside, giving Trinity a dramatic thumbs-up.
“Have fuuuun!” she called as the alley door swung shut behind them.
Trinity stared at the closed door.
“They suck,” she muttered.
“They must have had as much to drink as you,” Garcia said. “They seem very invested in your personal life.”
Trinity pushed herself off the wall, the ground doing that loose, kinda delayed thing again when she moved.
A small smile tugged at Garcia’s mouth.
“You ready?”
Trinity nodded, her thoughts focused more on the task of walking like a sober person than forming an actual reply.
Garcia noticed. Her hand closed lightly around Trinity’s arm as they started down the alley. The walk to the car felt strangely quiet after the noise of the bar. She unlocked the car with a soft beep.
“Alright,” she said, opening the passenger door for her. “Get in.”
Trinity noticed the interior while climbing in, a little less gracefully than she’d intended.
“Wow,” she said. “You have such a nice car.”
Garcia laughed softly as she walked around to the driver’s side.
“Please don’t throw up in it.”
Trinity turned her head toward her.
“I wouldn’t.”
She smiled, starting the car.
“Good.”
Trinity watched her for a moment, the streetlight outside catching the curve of her smile.
“Your smile makes me nauseous, actually.”
Garcia glanced over at her briefly, a questioning look crossing her face as she kept one hand steady on the wheel.
“…that’s not usually considered a compliment.”
Trinity just looked at her before realizing that the sentence had come from her own mouth
What the hell did she drink, truth serum?
She had apparently reached the level of drunk where her filter had completely dissolved. It had gotten her into trouble before, like the time an argument turned into a bar fight that nearly resulted in charges her senior year of college.
“I mean— in a good way,” she attempted to clarify. “I promise I’m not gonna yak in your expensive car.”
Garcia let out another small laugh, eyes not leaving the road ahead of her.
“That’s reassuring.”
For a minute the only sound was the low hum of the engine and the faint sound of music drifting from the car radio.
Trinity stared out the window, watching the streetlights pass by in soft streaks. The night behind her felt strangely distant now, the last couple of hours coming back more in flashes than full memories.
Then she turned back toward Garcia.
“I think about you a lot,” she said.
“…do you?”
Trinity nodded, giving up entirely on the idea of trying to filter anything she said tonight. At this point, it was far too much effort.
“Yeah.”
She paused.
“Like… a lot.”
Trinity watched her face as Garcia kept her eyes on the road, catching the corner of her mouth twitch.
“That sounds concerning.”
Trinity ignored that.
“You’re very distracting.”
Garcia actually laughed at that, tipping her head back lightly before glancing over at her.
“I’m distracting?”
“Mhm.”
Garcia was quiet for a moment.
Then her voice dropped faintly, the edge of it turning teasing.
“You want to talk about distracting?”
She kept her eyes on the road.
“When I saw you in that dress tonight,” she said, voice low, “it was a little difficult to think about much else. I spent a good portion of the evening wondering how long it would take to get it off you.”
Trinity could not help the way her mouth fell open. Something in her stomach flipped hard, like a sudden burst of fireworks she definitely wasn’t prepared for.
“I was actually a little relieved when my friend decided to leave,” she added. “I saw your friends were still inside, I figured I’d find you somewhere.”
She shrugged one shoulder.
“And hopefully not with someone else.”
Trinity’s dropped jaw quickly turned into a grin. She leaned a little closer, Garcia practically able to see the wheels turning behind her eyes.
“Yoooolaaandaa,” Trinity said, dragging out every vowel in her name. The name felt strangely unclothed on her tongue, the alcohol not quite strong enough to erase the unfamiliarity of it. “Would you have been jealous?”
Garcia huffed a quiet laugh.
“Triiiinity,” she replied, mimicking her tone. “Please.”
Trinity was basically beaming now, that same teasing energy from earlier bubbling back up now that the attention had shifted.
“Oh my god, you so would have been.”
Garcia sighed, amused.
“I'm not arguing with your drunk ass right now.”
Trinity nodded thoughtfully, already abandoning that and returning to the topic she actually cared about right now.
“But like…”
She gestured vaguely toward herself.
“You can still see the dress on your floor if you want.”
Garcia shook her head, laughing under her breath.
“Baby,” she said calmly, “we are not doing that tonight.”
Baby.
Trinity felt the heat rush back to her face.
She groaned dramatically and leaned her head back against the seat.
“You're such a tease.”
The car slowed as Garcia turned into the entrance of her building.
“And as much as I would enjoy that,” she said, “you are very drunk.”
“I’m fine to—”
The rest of the sentence dissolved into a sudden yawn she couldn’t stop.
Garcia shook her head unconvinced, pulling into a parking spot and shifting the car into park.
“You’re probably going to pass out the second your head hits the pillow.” She said, before starting to get out of the car.
By the time she pushed her door open, Garcia was already there, one hand lightly catching her arm as she stepped out.
“I’m okay,” Trinity protested.
“You can say that, but I’m not letting you eat shit in front of my neighbors.”
Trinity huffed but didn’t pull away, the extra support helping more than she wanted to admit.
They made it a few steps toward the entrance before Trinity suddenly veered toward the call box beside the door, her hand hovering while she stared at the numbers like they might settle down if she waited long enough.
“…what are you doing?”
“Buzzing in.”
Garcia laughed, reaching out to gently steer her away and through the entrance.
“You don’t have to buzz when you’re coming in with me.”
“Oh. Right.”
The walk to the condo was short. Trinity knew the way by now, though usually she ended up at the door on her own.
Garcia unlocked the door and stepped aside to let her in.
Trinity wandered inside, making a familiar path toward the bedroom. She dropped onto the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh and immediately started tugging off her boots.
She flexed her feet and let out a long sigh.
“I love these,” she muttered, “but they hurt like a bitch.”
The boots landed in opposite directions across the floor as she leaned back against the pillows with another long sigh.
Across the room, Garcia had already moved to her dresser, pulling open a drawer and rummaging around for a moment before tossing something toward the bed.
A worn concert T-shirt and a pair of loose boxer shorts landed beside Trinity.
“You can sleep in those,” she said. “Get changed before you pass out in that dress.”
Trinity lifted her head from the bed and tried to give her a suggestive look, though she had a strong suspicion the effect was being ruined by how drunk she was.
“Are you sureeee you don’t want to do anything?”
Garcia raised her eyebrow.
“Don’t beg, Trinity,” she teased.
Trinity’s head flopped back down on the bed with a groan.
Garcia rolled her eyes from the doorway.
“Get changed, I’ll be right back.”
Trinity stared up at the ceiling for a moment before closing her eyes, not liking the way it was slowly spinning.
This is so unfair.
She really should not have had that last drink.
Or the one before that.
By the time Garcia came back a minute later, Trinity was still lying exactly where she’d left her, the loaned clothes still beside her.
“You didn’t change”
“I’m in mourning,” Trinity mumbled, not opening her eyes.
“Sit up, drama queen, and drink this.”
Trinity pushed herself upright slowly and took the glass of water that was being held out to her, taking a few obedient sips.
When she looked up again, Garcia was still standing there. For a moment neither of them said anything.
Trinity could feel Garcia watching her.
Her chest did that strange, tight little flip again.
“If you keep looking at me like that,” Trinity muttered, squinting at her, “I’m gonna fall in love with you.”
Garcia went still for a second, eyes widening slightly before clearing her throat.
“Are you even going to remember this in the morning?” She asked.
Trinity frowned, her brows knitting together like that was a ridiculous question.
“Of course I will.”
Garcia didn’t look convinced. She pointed towards the glass.
“Finish that,” she said, pointing toward the glass. “I’m going to go get ready for bed before you say anything else you’re going to regret tomorrow.”
She turned toward the bathroom, door closing behind her.
Trinity easily finished the rest of the water, setting the empty glass carefully on the nightstand when she was done.
She should probably change. Her eyes drifted toward the T-shirt and boxer shorts still sitting beside her.
That was a good idea. She would definitely do that.
In just a second.
Now that she wasn’t busy talking, the exhaustion hit her all at once.
She leaned back against the pillows, the ceiling above her shifting slightly as the room tilted in slow, lazy circles.
Maybe she would just lie here for a second first.
Sleep took her almost instantly.
—
Trinity woke up slowly. Her head was pounding. Her mouth felt like someone had replaced her tongue with sandpaper.
She blinked at the ceiling, squinting at the light filtering in through the window.
Ow.
It took a minute for the rest of the situation to register.
She was at Garcia’s condo.
It took her a moment to recognize it like this in the daylight.
She noticed she was lying on top of the covers, still fully dressed, still in the burgundy dress.
Trinity groaned softly and rolled her head to the side. A full glass of water sat on the nightstand, next to it were two pills that she assumed was ibuprofen.
“Thank fucking god,” she whispered hoarsely.
She sat up, immediately regretting it as the room shifted slightly around her.
Trinity grabbed the glass, trying not to chug the whole thing in one go. After a moment she took the pills and washed them down with the rest of the water.
Her eyes drifted around the room, looking for her phone but coming up unsuccessful.
“Fuck me,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair.
Brief flashes of the night before flickered through her head.
She had no memory of actually making it into this bed.
It was also the first time she’d ever been here in the morning.
Which meant she had absolutely no idea what the morning-after protocol was supposed to be.
Before she could spiral too far into that thought, she heard movement somewhere outside the bedroom.
The sounds of cabinets opening, faint clink of glasses.
She could even smell coffee.
Trinity pushed herself carefully off the bed and shuffled toward the doorway.
Garcia was standing at the counter when she walked in, dressed in a matching athletic set, looking annoyingly put together as she poured coffee into a mug.
She looked up at the sound of Trinity’s footsteps, a small laugh slipping out when she saw her.
“Morning, Sunshine.”
Trinity suddenly became aware that she had not looked in a mirror yet.
Which meant her makeup was probably smudged halfway down her face, her hair doing something that was probably deeply unfortunate, and she was still standing there in last night’s dress.
Fantastic.
“Have you seen my phone?” she asked, scanning the room.
Garcia nodded toward the back of the kitchen.
“It was on the floor by your shoes,” she said. “I put it on the charger for you.”
Trinity spotted it plugged in beside the coffee maker and felt instant relief.
“Thank you.”
She slid another mug of coffee across the counter toward her.
“I’m glad you woke up on your own,” She said. “I have a pilates class across town in half an hour and didn’t want to try waking you again.”
Trinity frowned.
“.. again?”
Garcia’s mouth curved slightly.
“Last night when I came out of the bathroom, you were asleep in the middle of the bed.”
Trinity closed her eyes briefly.
“Oh no.”
“I tried to wake you up so you’d move over,” she continued calmly. “You told me to fuck off.”
Trinity’s eyes snapped open.
“Oh my god.”
She buried her face in her hands.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, I have a fairly comfortable couch.” Garcia said, taking a sip of her coffee. She studied Trinity for a moment over the rim of her mug. “How are you feeling?”
Trinity took a long drink of her own coffee before answering.
“Honestly, like I got hit by a bus. I’m extremely hungover.”
Garcia hummed.
“Sounds about right.”
Trinity sat herself down in a chair at the island, cradling the mug in both hands like it was medically necessary.
“But the coffee is helping a little,” she said, glancing down at the mug. “I might finish this entire thing in thirty seconds.”
“That’s probably not advisable.”
Trinity took another sip anyway.
A small silence settled between them.
Then Garcia spoke up again.
“How much do you remember from last night?”
Trinity frowned, thinking.
“Um....”
She squinted down into her coffee like the answer might be in there.
“You know.. The bar, tequila, more tequila.
A pause.
“The alleyway,” she said, her eyes now lifting to meet Garcia’s, “Your very nice car.”
Another pause.
“After that… not a lot.”
Garcia nodded once. She stepped over to the sink, rinsing out her mug and setting it in the sink.
Trinity watched her suspiciously, a small thread of panic starting to wind its way up her spine.
“…did I say something weird?”
Garcia shrugged lightly as she set her mug in the sink, turning to face her again. She leaned back against the counter, folding her arms.
“You tell me,” she said lightly.
“That’s not helpful.”
Garcia watched her for a second, clearly deciding how much to reveal.
“Hm.”
She tapped a finger lightly against the counter like she was thinking.
“Well… you did say a few memorable things.”
Trinity felt her stomach drop.
Garcia tilted her head slightly.
“My personal favorite might have been when you told me my smile makes you nauseous. Or wait–” she paused, feigning thought, “Maybe when you said you think about me all the time.”
Trinity dropped her head into her arms on the island counter with a groan.
“Oh actually—” she continued, clearly not finished yet, “it was probably when you informed me you were gonna fall in love with me.”
Trinity was very glad her face was buried in her hands, because she could already feel the heat burning her cheeks.
“I would like to die now,” she muttered.
She heard a soft laugh.
“Relax, you’re fine.”
“I’m never drinking again.” she said, mumbling into her arms
“That seems unlikely.”
Trinity stayed where she was for a moment longer, listening to the quiet clink of dishes as Garcia slid their mugs into the dishwasher.
After a few seconds she lifted her head cautiously, testing whether the embarrassment had faded enough to function again.
Garcia closed the dishwasher and turned back toward her.
“Anyway,” she said, “I’m not trying to kick you out, but—”
“No yeah, Pilates.’” Trinity cut in quickly. “I remember.”
She pushed herself out of her chair.
“I was gonna call an Uber.”
Garcia nodded toward the entryway.
“I’m about to leave, I can walk you down.”
“Okay.”
Trinity walked back to the bedroom and grabbed her boots from the floor, quickly pulling them on, grimacing at how uncomfortable they felt on her feet.
A minute later they were in the hallway together, stepping inside the elevator.
For a moment neither of them said anything.
Then Trinity cleared her throat.
“I’m really sorry about last night,” she said, staring determinedly at the elevator doors. “Thanks for letting me crash.”
Garcia glanced over at her.
“Why would you be sorry?” she said, giving her a small look of confusion. “I’m the one who invited you over.”
The elevator slowed as it passed another floor.
“You know,” she added after a moment, “I am a little disappointed you didn’t wake up earlier. I was curious to see if you were still that confident this morning. I might’ve done something about it.”
The elevator dinged softly as the doors slid open into the lobby. They stepped out, moving toward the exit.
Garcia held the door open for her as they went outside.
“Maybe next time,” she said casually, “You can stay the night again. We’ll just do it the right way.”
Trinity attempted to respond with equal casualness.
“Yeah.”She nodded quickly. “Yeah, for sure.”
Garcia smiled.
“I’ll text you.”
“Okay.”
Trinity watched her for a moment longer before Garcia turned and headed toward the parking garage, disappearing around the corner of the building.
The morning air was cool, the sunlight a little too bright for the state her head was currently in.
She pulled out her phone and quickly ordered an Uber, leaning against the low wall near the entrance while she waited.
A neighbor walking his dog came around the corner and gave her a curious second glance.
Trinity was suddenly very aware that she looked like the physical embodiment of a walk of shame.
Just… without the fun part.
She opened up her messages, going straight to the unread messages from the group chat.
1:36 AM. From Samira, two photos.
The first one looked like Samira mid-cartwheel in the alley behind the bar.
The second was Dennis flat on his back in the exact same spot, clearly having attempted the same thing with significantly worse results.
Attached text: a series of events
Trinity immediately laugh-reacted.
2:17 AM, from Dennis.
A blurry photo of him and Samira sitting on the curb outside what looked like a pizza place, each holding a slice.
we miss u
Trinity tapped the heart reaction.
10:34 AM, from Dennis again.
are you alive
Trinity typed back.
barely. on my way
Three little dots appeared almost instantly, quickly followed by several incoming texts.
Dennis
we just woke up
down bad over here
samira yakked in the shower again
ordering bagels and gatorade for the morning debrief
want your usual?
Her head still hurt, but the thought of bagels and electrolytes felt like the exact cure she needed.
god please yes that sounds incredible
She typed another message.
just warning you it's gonna be a pretty boring debrief
Dennis immediately disliked the message.
Trinity let out a small breath of a laugh, just as her Uber pulled up to the curb. It was going to be a pretty disappointing debrief, all things considered.
However, she was pretty sure Garcia saying I might’ve done something about it, was going to ruin her ability to think normally for the rest of the week.
She slid into the back seat, glancing once more at the condo building as they pulled away.
It looked different in the daylight, she hoped she’d get to see it in the morning again sometime soon.
Just preferably not violently hungover.
—