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"What is up with Robby?" A whisper from Jack to Dana during hand-off, which their senior had done with a barely concealed scowl, hence Jack's confusion. "He just got back home and he's already arguing with Gloria. Would've thought at least a week would pass before we saw any of that."
"Wishful thinking," she snorts, then sighs, peering at him over the glasses slung low on her nose and says your name. "He's a little prickly that he hasn't had a chance to talk to her since he came back."
"He literally came back yesterday," he deadpans. He doesn't mention that Robby's mood might also be affected by the fact that Jack may have been flaunting his blooming relationship with you in the three months he was gone. And that Robby had practically accosted him in the locker room about half an hour ago for driving you around and spoiling your kids.
"Uh-huh. Well, men and their hissy fits," Dana shrugs. "See you later, Abbot."
"Yeah," he grunts, slinging his backpack over one shoulder and calling out over his shoulder, "Don't let him burn down the ED."
"Never!"
Dana's enjoying one good moment of peace in the never-ending bustle of the ER when you're coming in from Chairs, looking nervous with the pout on your lips.
"Robby's going to have a damn heart attack when he sees you," she chuckles. "Want me to go find him, hon?"
"No, Dana, I need you!"
Well, okay. "For what, baby?"
You rush closer to her and hurry to open your purse, showing her the cosmetics shoved into it. "Can you do anything with this?"
"You kiddin'? I don't know mascara from lipstick half the time when I slap it on my face."
"Please, Dana!"
It's that plea and your ever-soft puppy eyes that land Dana in a restroom while you sit on a sink and she stands between your legs, carefully applying a layer of lipstick on to your lips.
If she doesn't take her gaze off them even as you both talk, well, she can just use the excuse that she's focused.
"What's got you all frazzled to get dolled up, anyway?" Dana muses, now gingerly patting your cheeks with blush. You'd squirmed and insisted she only use a little at a time so you could check how it looked with every swipe from the pan.
What's making you so nervous, angel?
"I got asked out to dinner," you admit shyly. "I haven't done my makeup properly in a while, so I didn't want to look silly on the date."
"You could never look silly, gorgeous," Dana says. "Who you goin' out with? Someone from work?"
You smile, biting your lip and looking down at your lap. "…Brendon."
"The Shark?" She whistles lowly. "How'd that happen?"
"We ran into each other at the park last week," you gush. "I was with Junie and Fawn and he was running in the area when he saw me. We got to talk for a little and then heaskedmeoutandIsaidyes." You take a breath, face hot while you huff.
"Quite the detailist, ain't ya?" Dana chuckles. You whine, letting your head rest on her shoulder.
"The conversation wasn't that interesting, I swear. It was mostly me rambling about how nice it was working in his brother's office. He just-" you groan. "I couldn't stop talking! Ugh, I don't even know how he made sense of most of what I said. I probably sounded so silly. But then he asked me if I wanted to go out to dinner. What does that even mean?"
It was cute, honestly, seeing you so flustered and shy. Usually you were the one making Dana feel like that while the two of you were out for drinks.
"Probably that he wants to go out to dinner," she chuckles. "You're overthinking it, kid. Just go out tonight and have fun, yeah? He picking you up?" You nod. "Good. Let him wine and dine you, and if the night is still young…"
"Stop!" You laugh, but it turns somewhat bashful. "I mean, it's been a while. But I don't know if I'm ready for something like that on a first date."
"So don't," Dana says with a shrug, grinning at you. "Enjoy yourself. Relax and let yourself have a peaceful night."
"You're the best."
"And don't you forget it."
Dana keeps dolling you up, and you keep squirming and talking. She doesn't mind, because she gets to keep a soft grip on your hip so she doesn't mess anything up.
"You said Michael was here?"
"Mm. Got back yesterday night, clocked in this morning."
"It'll be nice to see him," you hum. "He sent me a lot of pictures of the ocean while he was gone. It actually made me kinda homesick."
"No kidding, you from the west coast?"
"Mhm! California. I never wanted to leave, y'know. It's perfect down there, I swear," you sigh.
"You ever thought about going for a visit? Go see your family?" It's a subtle prod for information on her part. Can't blame a girl for being curious.
"No," you say softly, letting your gaze drop to your wringing hands. "I mean, I have. But I don't really know what I'd say to them. Honestly, my parents would be happier to see the girls than me." You shrug. "Just the way things are now."
Dana smiles sadly and pats your cheek, which makes you look back at her and smile a little. "Think I'm just about done," she murmurs. "Let's get you outta here, hm?"
You're walking back towards Chairs with Dana when someone calls your name. It's Robby, just coming out of Room 15. You stop walking and smile at the nurse when she pats your arm and walks off towards the Hub. You smile wider when Robby stops in front of you and hug him, rubbing his back. He melts into you, huffing out a laugh.
"Hey," you breathe, pulling away. "Dana told me you just back yesterday."
"Yeah, I tried stopping by your place this morning, but uh, I must've come right after you'd dropped off the girls and gone to work." Robby meets your eyes and flushes a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "You look…wow, very pretty. You and Dana going out tonight?"
"Oh! Um, no, actually," you let out a small, bashful laugh. "I'm kind of going out to dinner after work. You know Brendon, right?"
Oh fuck no.
Anything you say after that comes in through one ear and goes out the other. His mind is filled with white static as he stares at you, lips parted.
"…and anyway, he just asked when I was free and that's how we're here."
Robby's floundering for a reply, and eventually his scrambled brain settles for, "I…didn't know you were going out with Park. He's a bit…"
Though he means it to come out as a casual comment, his brows scrunch when even he can hear the thin reproach coating the words. It's a bit mean, really, and especially so given that this is your first face-to-face conversation since he left.
"Just like how I didn't know about your girlfriend?" you reply mildly, eyebrows raised, You smile and shake your head when he opens his mouth to respond. "It's fine, Michael. You don't owe me your life's details. I know I'm not a top priority—"
"That's not true," Robby says softly.
"—but I do expect the same respect and privacy I give you to be reciprocated," you finish. "Brendon asked me out to dinner and I said yes. I'm a mother of two kids working a full-time job, not some helpless girl that doesn't know what she's doing."
"Okay," he murmurs. He hesitates, but then in a quiet admission, "…Noelle isn't my girlfriend. I—That's what I was trying to tell you. Before I left."
"Does she know that?" He doesn't have a reply to that, so you sigh and give him a small smile. "I'll see you around, okay? I'll drop by soon."
"Working hard or hardly working?" It's Mr. Park, your boss, knocking on the wall of your cubicle and nearly making your bones jump out of their own skin.
"I always work hard!" You hurriedly squeak. "I was just about to come hand you those files you asked me to pull-" He cuts you off with a hearty laugh.
"Jeez, am I that kinda boss? The one his workers are terrified to talk to at the office?"
"No! Oh my gosh, not at all! You're totally fine. I just didn't want you to think I was slacking or something. I have the files right here-"
"Having fun boring your secretary about your highest golf score?" It's Park, coming up from behind his brother and slapping a hand on his back. Mr. Park winces faintly at the heavy weight, but still grins.
"Bren! Finally decided to check out your baby bro's office, huh?"
"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not here for you," he retorts.
Mr. Park glances at you before looking back at his brother, a smirk slowly growing on his face.
"So," he drawls. "You just needed to take things at your own pace, huh?" Your face heats, and Park scowls at him.
"Matt," he huffs, which makes Mr. Park laugh.
"Alright, alright. I'll leave it be for now. You kids have fun!"
"Oh, but I still need to put these files back—" "Don't worry about that, you just get out of here and enjoy your night, yeah?" Mr. Park eagerly hands over your cardigan and purse, grinning as he steers the two of you towards the elevator.
"Oh, well, good night—" "Bye!" He sing-songs, pressing the button for the doors to open, hurrying back towards the office. You and Park are left to step into the small space.
"You didn't have to drive all the way here," you say after a short silence, smiling up at him. "I would've been fine taking a cab."
"It wasn't out out of my way," he says. Then, lowly, "Sorry about him. He's an idiot." You smile, giggling into your fingers.
"He's a very nice boss. I think it's sweet he wanted to play wing-man."
"Believe me, he's just tired of me showing up alone to our family gatherings. Or not at all, if I end up getting called to the OR."
"Your schedule seems like hell. Dana said orthopedic surgeons usually work fifty hours a week on average."
"Mm. Today was a short day."
"It's almost eight."
"Like I said, short day," he chuckles. "And you? My idiot brother making you work overtime now?"
"Mm? Oh, not at all! Sometimes I stay behind to help with the filing or patch his calendar, make sure there isn't any overlap with appointments and whatnot."
"Whatever he's paying you, it should be doubled." That makes you laugh, and Park is pleased to be the reason you did so as well as lightheaded at the sound. If he could, that's what he'd have playing nonstop while he was in the OR.
"I won't lie and say I didn't give tonight much thought," he says, clearing his throat, crossing his arms. "Pretty sure Yelp has blocked me from using the app—" Another giggle. Doing good? Yeah? "—but I have a few options for us to browse—"
"No pizza!" You blurt, a heat rising to your cheeks. "Sorry, it's just, Fawn's school's made dinner nights hell for a while with their free pizza vouchers. I think I taste tomato sauce even in my dreams now."
Park huffs out a laugh, which makes you smile sheepishly. "No pizza," he repeats. "That shouldn't be a problem. I found a restaurant that serves good steak and pasta. That sound good?"
You smile and nod. "Perfect, actually."
The date is amazing. The restaurant has a warm atmosphere to it, and you ease into the faint background sounds of clinking glass and cozy conversations. You do, however, admit to Park that you feel a little underdressed, still wearing your office outfit. You look down at your napkin with a heat to your cheeks when he says you look beautiful.
You would've thought that, with the way everyone in the ER (especially Whitaker) described him to be at work, Park would be much more intense. But he isn't.
There was still this fervent aura to him, but to which you came to find charming. He was attentive, didn't let his gaze fall from you even when you shyly broke eye contact from how intense it felt.
When he asks about things you like, such as music, you tell him you love The Sundays. Upon your prodding, he reveals he enjoys Depeche Mode's albums. The date doesn't feel like he's just talking at you, the conversation flows smoothly while you banter back and forth.
It's nice. Something you wouldn't mind, would love, repeating some other day.
When the time comes for the check, it's barely been set down on the white tablecloth before he's picking it up, laying down his card and handing it back to the server, ignoring any and all of your protests to split the bill.
Park drives you home, walks you up to your front porch, smiles when you reach on your tippy toes to kiss his clean-shaven cheek, and doesn't drive off until the light of your bedroom turns on and you wave at him from your window.
It's about three weeks before Robby has a chance to talk to Park. He's never been more bothered by the fact that Park hardly graced the ER's trauma rooms than now, when he actually wanted to interact with the man.
His wish is granted about a week before Halloween, when the Hub is decorated, thanks to Jesse, Princess, and Shen, in fake cobwebs and plastic pumpkins filled with goodies for the staff (and Earl).
"Shark, you got a minute?"
"Down here?" Park scoffs. "Rather not."
"Won't take long," Robby retorts, clasping his hands together while the surgeon crosses his arms.
Yeah, I need to take up Jack on his offers to join him at the gym, Robby thinks sourly.
"So," he says, then says your name.
"Uh-huh," Park says flatly, very much done with the conversation and the direction it was steering towards. He had a feeling the conversation was going to happen sooner or later.
"I would…like for you to keep your distance from her."
"Why? Because you're rounding up a year of wanting to fuck her and I succeeded to a date after a single conversation?"
"Because I respect her," Robby grits out. "I don't want her to be treated like—"
"—like how you treat your own girlfriend?" Park drawls. "Don't worry, I also respect her. Now, if you'll excuse yourself, I need to head back upstairs. Have fun managing your bottom dwellers."
While Park flounces out from the conversation and punches the elevator button to head back upstairs, Robby is left scowling while the faint muahaha! of a toy skeleton rings out from the nurses' station.
Fucking Shark Attack.