Work Text:
“Santos, am I to believe my ears?” Trinity looks up into Ahmad’s disappointed face.
“What?” she turns back to her charting almost as soon as she meets his eyes. Only a couple hours into shift and she’s already behind.
“I heard,” Ahmad comes up beside her. “That you’ve been running a pool on the sly.”
“Oh that,” she flaps a hand.
“Yes, that. You didn’t think to tell me?”
She shrugs, eyes still glued to the screen. “I didn’t know I had to run it by you.”
He bends down to her eye level, eyes grave. “You trying to steal my job?”
“What? No. It’s just a bet Huckleberry and I have going and then Crash overhead so I had to let her in on it. Your job?”
Ahmad raises his eyebrows expectantly.
Trinity gives up trying to get her fingers to type dysuria at the same time as deciphering what the hell he wants.
“What?” she asks, exasperated. “What am I supposed to do? Register the players, terms, and conditions with you?”
He nods like she’s a child. “Yes, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.”
She shakes her head dismissively. “It’s just a theory I have.” Saying it, though, she is reminded of the thrill of mischief and relish she’d felt putting her finger on her new suspicion, and she looks with new energy at Ahmad, gesturing for him to lean in closer. “Dana and McKay,” she says, voice lowered.
“Yeah?” he asks slowly. “What about them?” They turn in unison to look together across the room where Cassie leans against the charge desk, massaging her palms, talking seriously to a harried-looking Dana.
“You think they’re, you know,” she waggles her eyebrows. “Doin’ it?”
Ahmad cocks his head, looking confused. “That’s your bet?”
Trinity nods eagerly. “There have been just a few too many details cropping up here and there,” she whispers. “And the looks. We’re betting on if, when, and if not already, when.”
Ahmad is looking at her blankly, so she elaborates with exaggerated slowness, “If they’re fuckin’, when it started, and if they’re not, when they finally will.”
He shakes his head, his face breaking into a bemused smile. “You’re in deep waters there, Santos.”
“Whitaker has money on it taking another six months. He’s a sucker for a drawn out romance. Crash is betting never. It would break her poor heart, I think. I’ve got twenty on four months ago, when Dana was off for a few weeks. So, what? Do you need to take over admin of this thing, now?”
“Oh no,” he’s backing away. “This one’s all yours.”
“But you just said—“
“No way I’m touching that,” he says adamantly.
“You’re just scared of our lady at the helm.”
“Damn right I am. You should be, too.”
“I’m more interested in being right. And when it comes to gayness, I usually am,” she says confidently, crossing her arms. “Just wait and see. This one’s about the long game.”
“Whatever you say,” he calls over his shoulder. “You can count me out of it.”
“You’re the one who butted in in the first place,” Trinity mutters, turning back to the computer.
She’s on to something, she’s sure of it. Just this morning, she’d watched Dana absent-mindedly straighten the collar of McKay’s scrub top as they discussed where the move a patient, her finger slipping along under the cloth, turning the hem flat. Sure, Dana is always touching people, reassuring and steadying, gently mothering. But there was something decidedly not motherly about the way Dana’s eyes stayed softly concentrated on Cassie’s animated face as her fingers skimmed over her collarbone. Trinity had felt almost bad for watching.
Oh yeah. She’d hit on something secret, something quietly brewing. She knows there’s plenty of time to watch it unfold. None of them are going anywhere. There is a whole shift ahead of them and countless after today. But part of her is impatient. If she poked just right, maybe they’d let something slip.
On her way out, she checks the schedule. In just a couple days, they’re all in for a seven day run. I could do it in seven days, she thinks. I’ll get them to crack.
Day One
Victoria had been flabbergasted last week when she’d first heard Trinity assert that there was tension between Cassie and Dana. She’d blinked rapidly, mouth agape, staring at her sometimes friend, oftentimes personal needler.
“No way.” She distracted herself putting notes in order.
“Oh definitely way,” Santos nodded firmly, leaning on her elbows on the charge desk. “Face it, Crash, the object of your sweet, innocent affection is head over heels for our fearless leader. And who can blame her?”
“You’re seeing things,” Victoria insisted. “Cassie—Dr. McKay is straight. She has an ex-husband.” Trinity gave her a scornful look. “What?”
“Nothing. Just always surprises me when a narrow-minded school girl jumps out of your mouth. I expect more from you, Crash.”
“I am not narrow-minded!” she gasps.
“Mhmm, ok. Look at that posture and tell me that’s not a lesbian,” Santos nodded her head towards where Cassie was strolling next to Perlah, hands in her pockets.
Javadi shook her head. “And Dana? You’re telling me she’s gay?”
Trinity rubbed her forehead in exasperation. “Do I have to teach you everything? Look for yourself. Once you see it you can’t unsee it.” She pushed off the desk. “I gotta go. I hear a trauma calling for a rockstar.”
That night, she’d caught a ride home with Santos and Whitaker, and before she’d known it she was slapping a ten dollar bill into Trinity’s palm, saying, “Put me down for never.”
But now, standing in pedes, there’s a sinking feeling in her stomach. Cassie is bouncing a three week-old infant on her shoulder, bringing him skillfully down from a wail to a whimper, hip to hip with Dana, who is offering a finger for the baby to grasp, saying, “Your mama’s gonna be right back, don’t you worry. She just stepped out for a second.”
“Plus there are so many people here desperate for your attention!” Cassie murmurs.
“It’s true,” Dana confirms. “You’re very popular.” The hand that isn’t claimed by the baby’s tiny fingers is smoothing up and down Cassie’s back. Victoria stares. Did they always stand so close? Was this one of those things where people get all gooey and forget where they cooing are over a baby?
“Harrison was never this calm,” Cassie says dreamily. “I don’t think I slept for five years.”
Dana shook her head, “My girls were nightmares on a normal day. If they had a fever like this one? Forget it.” Their eyes meet. “You trying to tell me something, McKay?”
Cassie lets out a soft laugh. “Oh no way, Evans. Nice try. I did my time. So did you—technically we’re both still doing it.”
Dana chuckles. “Parenting never ends.”
Cassie looks up, cheek pressed to the baby’s head. “Javadi, do you want to hold him a minute?”
Javadi’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire. She shakes her head vigorously. “Oh no, I’m terrible with babies.”
“Only one way to learn,” Dana urges.
Javadi keeps shaking her head. Cassie shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
When they lay the baby back on the exam table, their hands move together and over each other making him comfortable, retucking his swaddling clothes and stroking his flushed forehead.
Javadi can’t get out of there fast enough. She passes Santos in Central. “Scratch never,” she mutters. “I’m in for last month.”
Santos guffaws triumphantly and punches her shoulder. “That’s the spirit, Crash! But you can only switch if you up your bet.”
Javadi rolls her eyes. “I’ll Venmo you ten.”
“Done.”
Day Two
Whitaker is praising every god he can think of that Robby was feeling generous today and ordered sandwiches for the staff. He wolfs down the first half of an enormous turkey sub in the break room, completely oblivious of his surroundings.
“Slow down, kid, we’ll be down a doctor if you try to swallow all that at once,” Dana laughs, sitting down next to him. She leans back in her chair and pinches the bridge of her nose, groaning. “Who knew that hours of listening to the zoo in Chairs screaming would make a person’s head hurt so much.”
McKay turns from the counter where she’s been setting up a new pot of coffee to brew. “Ibu?” she offers, stepping behind Dana and pressing gently at her temples.
Dana shakes her head. “Already loaded up on advil, thanks, hon. Just don’t move your hands for the next six hours, ‘kay?”
McKay steps close enough for Dana’s head to rest back against her stomach. “Bossy.”
Dana smirks, her eyes slipping closed. “Just the way you like it.”
Whitaker coughs violently, wheezing around a huge bite of sandwich.
“What did I say, Whitaker?” Dana chastises, sitting up out of Cassie’s hold, slapping him on the back. “Slow down!” His eyes are streaming.
“Sorry,” he accepts the water Cassie hands him. “’S a really good sandwich,” he rasps weakly, unable to look either of them in the eye as they appraise him with concern.
“Hey,” Trinity barges through the door. “I heard there’s food?”
“Help yourself,” Dana stands. She dusts off her hands and accepts the to-go cup of coffee McKay holds out behind her, still in the midst of pouring a second for herself. “C’mon, McKay, let these two catch a breather.”
“Right behind you.”
Trinity plops into the seat Dana had just vacated. “You ok, Huckleberry? You look like you just peed your pants in front of the whole class.”
He rolls his eyes, ducking his head to wipe his mouth with a napkin, still chewing. “I’m fine. I just choked a little.”
Santos clicks her tongue at him, rummaging in the bag to assess her options.
“And they were,” he lowers his voice, “They were flirting.”
She whips her head around, eyes glittering. “Tell me everything.”
She listens intently. “And you think that points to the fact that they still haven’t slept together?” she shakes her head.
Whitaker looks at the door the two women had just left through. “I don’t know. They were so comfortable with each other just now. What if it’s one of those things where they’re pretty much already in a relationship without all the physical stuff and one of them just needs to realize it.”
Santos raises her eyebrows. “What have romance novels have you been reading without telling me?”
Whitaker shrugs. “Just my theory. You can keep your salacious, hidden affair.”
“Oh, I will. One day we’ll come in and Dana won’t be wearing her wedding ring anymore. Then we’ll know shit’s really hit the fan.” She takes a bite. “That or they’ll suddenly be at each other’s throats because things have gone south.”
Whitaker shakes his head, turning back to his sandwich at last.
Day Three
Trinity is doubling up with McKay in triage. For once, she’s grateful to be away from the steady flow of incoming traumas. Garcia had been in and out all shift the previous day, giving her the cold shoulder that meant she was still freaking out about waking up in Trinity’s bed the morning before. She didn’t want to have to deal with her again today.
They’d fallen asleep, so what? It had been a risk to even go through with fucking on a night between shifts. And it hadn’t escaped Trinity’s notice that Yolanda, a veteran insomniac, had slept without waking till Trinity’s alarm roused them. She pushed the memory of waking up in time to see Garcia’s unguarded face before it shuttered again in panic. Today could be one of the three she allowed herself a year to not be a gunner every second of the day.
So far, she and Cassie had managed to divide and conquer efficiently. They’re sending people on their way, off for labs, back to Chairs to wait for results. Trinity is finishing up suturing a run-of-the-mill gash-to-the-palm-by-way-of-cutting-an-avocado when Cassie leans cautiously around the curtain.
“Hey, Santos?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m almost done here.”
“Oh no, take your time. I just wanted to give you a heads up I’m running back to change. You ok on your own for a sec?”
Trinity looks up. Cassie is covered in bloody vomit.
“Oh my god,” her patient, a middle-aged woman who’d been scrolling on her phone while Trinity worked was gaping at McKay.
“Ooh,” Trinity winces. “Yeah get out of here. I’ll hold it down.”
Cassie smiles gratefully and disappears.
“Probably the peptic ulcers,” Trinity says knowingly, returning to her stitches.
It’s not long after that Mel comes and taps her to come back for the afternoon rush. She follows her to the hub, where Dana is barking out a laundry list of incoming traumas. Something is different but Trinity can’t quite figure out what until McKay joins the group, in a fresh set of scrubs, her hair still damp from the staff shower. Trinity gives her an exaggerated look up and down as McKay comes to stand next to her.
“Well, don’t you clean up nice, Dr. McKay.”
One corner of Cassie’s mouth pulls. “Yeah, I really wasn’t digging what chronic ulcers had to dress me in.”
“Nice—knew it,” Trinity nods. “Hey, uh, where’d you get that shirt?”
“Um, the scrub return?” Cassie is frowning distractedly, one ear to Trinity, the other to Dana’s instructions.
“No, your undershirt,” Trinity prods.
“Oh. It’s Dana’s.”
“Wow,” Trinity can hardly contain herself. “The shirt off her back—literally. How generous.”
Cassie shrugged. “She knows I get cold. She wanted to make sure that I was warm.”
“McKay! Santos!” Dana snaps, looking piercingly over her glasses. “You picking up what I’m putting down or do I have to put you both in the corner?”
“We got it, boss,” Trinity puts her hands together in apology.
“Warm and distracted,” Cassie muttered, eyes trained on Dana’s newly exposed skin.
Trinity opens her mouth to respond but the ambulance bay doors hiss open and it’s time to move.
The hours rush past after that. Garcia comes by but Trinity manages to slip out before they can share space. The night shift is traipsing in, waiting for rounds and hand-off. Trinity is zoning off before her charts when she hears, “—to look at you. You want me to drop dead?”
She turns her head, holding her breath.
Dana is leaning back, half-sitting on her desk, one elbow propped on the other arm, leaning her chin on her hand, smiling broadly up at McKay, who is inside the hub next to her. Very close next to her, Trinity notes.
“You don’t look on the verge of death to me. In fact, you look warm. You’ve got a healthy flush to you.” Dana brings the back of her hand to McKay’s cheek. “That’s good.”
McKay laughs softly and takes the hand in hers.
Trinity looks around, horrified that she might be the only person witnessing this. Her eyes suddenly meet Garcia’s, who is standing right over her, jean jacket over her scrubs, bag slung over her shoulder.
“Holy fuck,” she breathes. “Warn a girl, won’t you?”
“Chill out. I’ve been here for like a full minute,” Garcia’s self satisfied smile is aggravatingly sexy. Trinity can’t think of anywhere else to look.
“You done yet? I want to get out of here.”
“Almost. Uh—you’re waiting on me?”
Garcia shrugs like it hadn’t occurred to her to put it that way. “Thought I may as well.”
“Ok,” her response is automatic. She kicks herself for accepting the 180 switch so eagerly. “Just give me a second.” She glances back to the hub. Dana and Cassie have disentangled and are each focusing on their own paperwork, Cassie back on the right side of the counter. “Please just tell me I wasn’t the only one to see that.” Trinity nods their way.
“What?”
“Those two! They were totally all over each other.”
Garcia shakes her head wonderingly. “You really are something, Trinity.”
“Oh, come on. When do you think they’re going to stop hiding in the closet and admit that they’re a thing?”
Garcia laughs outright at that.
“What! Don’t tell me they’re not. It’s plain as anything.”
“Hurry up, Santos. Let’s get going already.”
“Alright, alright, I’m done.” She stands, following Garcia to the lockers for her things.
“Dana can I borrow a pen?” Cassie asks as they pass. “Mine just ran out.”
“Lose this one and I’m coming after you, McKay,” Dana sighs, handing a fresh pen over without taking her eyes off her screen.
“I won’t lose it,” Cassie mumbles unconvincingly.
“I know where you live,” Dana threatens.
“If that’s not flirting, I’m a fucking hazardous waste bin,” Trinity whispers.
“You said it, not me,” Garcia grabs her elbow and pulls her along.
Day Four
“I think it’s time we take a more proactive approach,” Trinity muses, pulling into the parking lot.
“I don’t think you could be more proactive if you tried,” Whitaker mutters, still half asleep, slouched way down in the passenger seat. “It’s like going to war trying to get in on a trauma before you.”
“No, not with work,” Trinity rolls her eyes, throwing the car into park. “With our bet.”
Whitaker looks at her, still not getting it.
“Dana and McKay,” she reminds him. “So far we’ve just been observing from afar. I want to do some digging, some provoking.”
“Why do you care so much?”
“Because I’m bored—and it’s juicy! I want confirmation.”
“That is all you,” he says, grabbing his bag. “I’m happy to bide my time for them to realize how they feel. Don’t bring me into it when Dana catches on to what you’re doing.”
“I can be subtle.”
The air is an early spring brisk. Whitaker is rubbing his eyes, wishing he’d made coffee at home, not looking forward to the break room version. He snorts, “That’s not really a word I’d associate with you.”
“I’m wounded,” Trinity places a mocking hand to her chest. “You have no faith in me.”
They wind their way through the already crammed maze of Chairs. Trinity hooks her finger through a loop on Whitaker’s backpack to keep in step behind him and he pulls them along. They wave to Lupe and make it to the back. Ellis gestures for them to hurry up and join hand-off. Cassie pulls up next to them as they all approach the hub, a cup of coffee in each hand.
“For me, McKay?” Santos jokes. “You shouldn’t have.”
Cassie raises the coffee out of her reach. “Oh no, this one’s for Dana and you are not taking my caffeine away from me.”
“You care about your wife more than me?” she whines, testing the waters as they come to a halt under the board. She feels Whitaker stiffen next to her, glancing wide-eyed at Dana who is right there, standing beside Lena, waiting to get things started.
Cassie doesn’t seem to catch on. “Yup,” she says smoothly, passing the coffee into Dana’s waiting hand. Dana smiles gratefully, then goes back to reviewing the paperwork Lena holds between them, giving no sign that she overheard.
Trinity and Whitaker glance at each other, baffled. Whitaker leans in close and says, “Santos zero, McKay one.”
She elbows him. “We haven’t even started.” She sees Javadi peering searchingly around the crowd to find them and waves. “Morning, Crash. How’s it hanging?”
“I think I’ve got to run away from home,” Javadi complains. “I can’t remember the last time my parents talked to me about anything other than my residency applications.”
McKay, overhearing, slings an arm around Javadi’s shoulders. “Don’t let them wear you down.”
Trinity watches Victoria’s face grow three shades darker as she mutters something like thank you and shifts under Cassie’s arm without shrugging it off.
Hopeless, Trinity thinks to herself and finally focuses in on the work ahead.
They sweep through rounds quickly, night shift departs, the day gets rolling. Sometime in the afternoon, she finds herself beside Javadi, stabilizing a patient so that McKay can pop his hip bodily back in place. McKay strips off her sweatshirt before stepping up onto the gurney.
“Close your mouth, Crash, you’re going to drool on the patient,” Trinity whispers as they each take up their positions.
“Shut up,” Javadi whispers harshly, jerking her gaze to her own hands.
McKay brings her weight down on the hip and it clunks back into place. They all jolt and then sag forward with the movement. “Love doing that,” McKay breathes, grinning lopsidedly up at them both.
“Yeah, me too,” Javadi says in a rush, immediately blinking confusedly like she didn’t give herself permission to speak.
Trinity links their arms as they leave McKay to finish up and go check the board for what’s next. “Ooh, Dr. McKay, you love hip reductions? I love hip reductions too,” she sings. “I also love dimples and strong arms and gold chains.”
“Shut up!” Javadi hisses.
Someone clears their throat behind them. The the full force of Dana’s single raised eyebrow meets them as they turn. “Got enough to occupy you, you two?”
“Oh—oh yeah definitely. We were just grabbing another case,” Javadi stumbles.
“Uh-huh.”
Javadi was suddenly grateful for Trinity’s proximity, shielding her from those knowing blue eyes. Was that laughter sparkling in them as they flicked between her and where Cassie was returning to the floor?
Trinity tugged their linked arms so their shoulders bumped. “No need to get protective, D. No one’s trying to steal your man.”
“Can’t blame a girl for looking,” Dana drawled, scanning the floor. “Princess! You got those orders?” she’s off.
Javadi slumped out of Trinity’s grip. “That was terrifying.”
“What is with them?”
“You almost got me killed.”
“They’re not taking any of the bait. What’s that about?”
“Are you listening? You can’t tease my like that where people can hear!”
“Chill out, Crash.”
“I’m chill,” Javadi says breathlessly. “I’m so chill.”
Day Five
“Hey,” Trinity jogs to catch up with Perlah as they slide out of Trauma 3. “How long has Dana been married?” She’s never noticed how fucking fast the nurse walks. No wonder it feels like she manages to be everywhere at once.
Perlah looks at her shrewdly. “Why?”
“Just curious,” Trinity says innocently.
“What are we talking about?” Princess sidles up.
“Santos is asking personal questions about Dana’s love life,” Perlah says drily.
“I’m not trying to pry.”
“Right,” Perlah draws out as Princess snickers. “We’ve got your number, Santos. Ahmad told us about your bet.”
“Oh come on, you guys, you’re really not going to tell me anything?”
“It’s more fun to watch you running in circles with your eyes closed,” Princess shrugged.
“You keep all the fun to yourselves,” Trinity complains.
“That’s the way we like it,” Princess hands Perlah a sheaf of labs.
“But I am on to something, right? I mean, Perlah, you heard McKay when I told Dana’d gotten punched by Driscoll way back in September.”
“Hm,” Perlah laughs humorlessly through closed lips. “I almost punched you when you did that.”
“What did I do?”
“Always the new kids,” Princess murmurs.
Perlah nods in agreement. “Here for five seconds and try to tell us the way things are.”
“I may as well not even be here, huh?”
“You got anything based in reality for us to chew on?” Perlah splits the labs between her and Princess.
“You don’t even want in on the bet?”
They look at her like she’s insane. “No chance in hell,” Perlah says.
“But you always want in,” Trinity calls after them as they branch off away from her.
Just trying to get me off the scent, she thinks stubbornly. It won’t work.
In the car on the way home with Javadi in the backseat again, hitching a ride, they compare notes.
“They’re always getting each other coffee,” Trinity says immediately. “For starters.”
“You get me coffee sometimes,” Whitaker interjects.
“And if anyone accused me of doing anything so nice, I’d laugh in their face. Has anyone ever noticed if they leave or arrive together?”
The other two shake their head.
“Yeah, I’m always running too late coming in or too ready to run going out.”
Victoria rolls her eyes. “Ok, well, did you see how they were sitting today when Gloria came to give that long announcement about chart padding?”
“Missed that,” Trinity has to admit.
“McKay was on a stool and Dana stood right behind her with her arms around her neck.”
“Dana is always holding someone when we’re all standing around listening to someone.”
“You are in such denial,” Trinity pokes at Whitaker, keeping her eyes on the road.
“I am not! I heard Dana on the phone on her smoke break today,” Whitaker reports. “She was on with Harrison.”
“McKay’s son?”
“Yeah, she’s helping him with his science fair project. And I thought I heard her say she’d pick him up from school, too?”
“Wow, taking care of her kid? If that’s true, they’re in deeper than I thought,” Trinity whistles.
“I think we’re in deeper than we should be,” Javadi mutters, sinking back in her seat.
Day Six
Of course shit starts to hit the fan when they’re all two days from getting a break. Every other person coming in seems ready for a fight. They’d started the morning off with three separate bar fights that kept trying to rekindle themselves in the middle of the floor and no more than ten minutes after Whitaker’s talked a woman reaming her brother out for closing the car door on his own hand away from his bedside, raised voices are ringing out in triage. He follows the sound as fast as he can.
“Sir, sir, you need to calm down,” Cassie’s voice firm as she steps towards a man towering over a teen holding an icepack to his eye who seems to be his son. They are both yelling and gesturing wildly. Cassie dodges an elbow deftly as she steps defensively between the two men. It means that the father is now towering over her.
Mateo is at her back trying to get the son to take his seat back on the gurney.
“Get the hell out of my face, bitch, I’m talking to my son,” the man jabs an open palm towards the boy. Cassie flinches out of the way. His hand flashes by her ear, just missing it.
“Hey!” Whitaker didn’t catch Dana coming in but she’s there now and in the middle of things all at once. “You need to back up, man. Right the fuck now.” She’s got one palm up in the man’s face in front of her, the other gripping Cassie’s hip.
Whitaker marvels at the woman’s power. She’s at least a foot and a half shorter than him and narrow as a blade in front of his broad width yet her voice cows him instantly. He seems to shrink before her, back pedaling until he’s brushing the curtain, locking his hands behind his back.
“Alright,” he pants. “Alright.”
“Ok, here’s what’s gonna happen,” Dana is still bracing a hand at Cassie’s waist, keeping her body between her and the father-son pair. “Dr. McKay is going to see to your son and you are going to keep your mouth shut unless you have something useful to contribute to his care. If you can’t handle that, I’ll have to get security in here to escort you out so that we can do our job. Capiche?”
“Capiche,” the father mutters.
“You got this?” Dana turns to Cassie.
“Yeah,” Cassie grasps her wrist, thumb stroking comfortingly back and forth. “I got this.”
“You call if things get hot again,” Dana hasn’t moved an inch.
“I can handle it,” Cassie’s smile is soothing. She leans half an inch forward, her voice soft, a little teasing. Whitaker watches Dana’s shoulders relax as if in response to Cassie’s tone. “Get out of here.”
Whitaker moves to the son, asking cautiously if he can move the hand with the ice pack off his face. Dana lets herself be shunted gently away by Cassie and then McKay is looking over his shoulder, joining in on the exam.
“A lot going on here. You ok?” she looks at Whitaker and then over to Javadi, who is peeling herself away from the wall and trying to shake the trapped look off her face.
“Who me? Oh yeah, all good,” she rambles.
Whitaker nods. “Things get crazy fast around here.”
Cassie grimaced. “Tell me about it.”
Things don’t let up from there. The phrase “one of those days” is on the lips of several people throughout the afternoon. Several highway pile ups and a construction site collapse later finds everyone reeling by 6pm when Abbot strolls in an hour ahead of his shift.
“Whoa,” he balks, approaching Dana at the hub. “What happened here?”
Trinity lifts her head off Whitaker’s shoulder. “Ah, just a meat grinder kind of day.”
“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” Dana sighs, standing up in greeting and leaning heavily on the desk. “Why do I feel like you’re about to make it even more complicated?”
Trinity and Whitaker don’t get to hear what Abbot has to say in response because Robby glides by to pull the two of them into Trauma 1 for a procedure. Half an hour later, Abbot finds them as they’re stepping back out.
“So,” he rubs his hands together. “We’re a little short staffed this evening,” he starts. “Any chance you two feel able to run a few hours over into tonight to give us time to find more coverage?”
Trinity groans loudly. “Seriously? What do we get out of it?”
“Mmm, well, if you work the whole shift and pull a double like Dana and Cassie said they would, you don’t have to roll over into tomorrow’s day shift? We’ll find coverage for the day instead. Technically, you’ll get your break sooner.”
Trinity, surrendering, looks at Whitaker. “You take the car. I’ll bus home in the morning.”
He shakes his head. “If you’re in, I’m in.”
Trinity looks at Abbot. “Count us in for the full shift.”
“And that’s a true comrade,” Abbot slaps them both on the shoulder. “Go get some sleep while you can. Take half an hour. We can hold it down for now. I’m going to see who else I can turn night crawler.”
“Try Javadi,” Trinity offers over her shoulder. “She never wants to go home.”
“Already got her.”
There’s not a single open bunk in the on-call room. Whitaker is midway through whispering, “I’m gonna go find a gurney somewhere else,” when Trinity grabs his arm roughly, pointing.
He steps up next to her to see two people stretched together on the closest bottom bunk. McKay is on her back, one arm thrown over her eyes, the other wrapped around Dana’s shoulders. Dana is curled against her, one leg slung over hers, an arm across Cassie’s ribs, her head tucked under Cassie’s chin, cheek cushioned on her chest.
“Holy shit,” Santos’s whisper is too loud.
Cassie lifts her elbow away from her face enough to squint with bleary annoyance. Her voice comes out hoarse and threatening. “Do you plan on coming in or are you just going to stand there, letting in light and being loud?”
“Sorry, just, sorry, we—sorry.” Whitaker doesn’t know where to go. He can’t look away from the dim picture of their charge nurse sprawled so naturally on their resident.
“I swear to god, if you two wake Dana up, I won’t be the only one to kill you.”
“Too late,” Dana’s voice is far more gravelly, far more deadly. Her head turns without lifting, just enough for the light to catch her eye and enhance her glare with a terrifying glimmer.
“I’m out of here,” Whitaker’s gone in a flash.
The door swings shut. Trinity walks over to where Javadi is curled on a nearby bottom bunk, back to the rest of the room. “Hey, Crash,” she mouths. “Scoot.” Victoria protests but obeys, giving Trinity a sliver of mattress on which to lie back to back with her. From there, she can still see Dana and Cassie in the dimness, eyes closed once more. Cassie pulls Dana closer, her nose pressing into blonde hair pulling loose from its bun.
The growing feeling that she’s missed something big competes with a deep pull of envy as she looks at them. They’re just sleeping, wrapped up together like it’s easy. Simple, straightforward, like they hold each other this way every night of the week. The thought strikes her all at once—that it’s entirely possible that they do just that. She swallows. Forces herself to close her eyes.
Day Seven
After barely calming down enough to even consider trying to sleep, Trinity’s phone alarm starts to vibrate. Victoria’s is close behind. Across the room, Dana pushes herself up with a hand on Cassie’s sternum.
They’re like a waking graveyard. The shadowed figures of all the day shift pushovers who folded to Abbot’s wheedling rise like the dead. Trinity sees Dana lean to bring her lips to McKay’s ear before the shuffle of bodies blocks them from view. She groans softly and offers Javadi a hand up.
There’s a hallucinogenic quality to doubles. Sleep deprivation sows a kind of hilarity and giddiness in the brain and, for a while, it is enough to fuel Trinity. The night shift regulars are a bunch of freaks so her mood fits right in. They blow past midnight. Standing in the ambulance bay, waiting on an incoming trauma, Trinity sees dawn finally advancing on the sky.
Her attention is pulled away by the arrival of the ambulance she’s been loitering for. She adds her hands to the gurney rail to help guide the patient through to the floor. McKay is there on the other side.
“What’ve we got?”
“Adam Miller, fifty-five, man versus heavy machinery—dislocated left shoulder and compound fracture of the left radius,” the paramedic rattles off. She looks frazzled, close cropped hair sweaty and at odd angles. Her partner stays in the driver’s seat.
“Ouch, that’s gotta hurt. How do you feel, Mr. Miller?” Ellis is right behind her.
“Fucking right it hurts,” the man snaps. He’s sweaty, blood-soaked, and angry. “You gonna do something about it or what?”
Still one of those days, Trinity thinks ruefully. Everyone’s fucking full of rage.
They wheel him in to Trauma 2.
“Wow, well, aren’t you all lucky I was already down here,” Garcia’s voice chirps as she joins the crowd. She steps in beside Trinity, her hand coming to rest just a hair’s breadth away from hers on the guard rail.
“Welcome to the party,” Ellis says. “You’re in early.”
“Happy to be here,” Garcia’s sharp eyes are surveying the damage. “Decided to come in a little ahead of things. See what I could catch.” Her eyes slide to Trinity who glances away as soon as their eyes meet.
“Oh by the way he’s—” the paramedic starts to say at the same time Ellis counts them down for the transfer. As soon as he’s down on the gurney, he kicks out violently at the paramedic. She leaps away, avoiding taking a steel-toed boot to the temple.
“Woah there,” Garcia tries to grapple with his ankles. “How about some sedation?”
“On it,” McKay snakes in quickly, sliding the needle in like lightning.
“Now that we’re here, can you get the dyke away from me?”
They all stop immediately. The paramedic presses her lips together tightly. “As I was saying, he’s a raging homophobe. Took twice as long to get anything done. Doesn’t want,” she wiggled her fingers spookily. “To catch something.”
Ellis cracks one of her cheshire grins, leaning over Miller. “Sir, you’re going to need to be a little more specific.”
“What do you mean specific?” he shouts. “You’re the doctors, just don’t let the fucking lesbian any closer.”
“Uh, not mutually exclusive,” Trinity says under her breath.
“Hey,” the paramedic says, throwing up her hands. “Fine by me. I did my job.” She backs out of the room.
“So, is it just paramedic dykes that you want to relieve of the burden of working on you or does your generosity extend to doctors, too?” McKay’s eyes are trained on the syringe in her hand as she preps propofol. Her voice is casual, like she’s asking about the weather.
“What?”
“It’s just that then you’d cut your options in this room down to, well,” Trinity looks around the room. “Zero.”
The man gapes, his eyes going to each one of them in horror. Garcia crosses her arms, smirking.
“Hey, what’s goin’ on in here?” Dana is leaning through the door. “I need more doctors on the floor and you guys are just standing around.”
“Oh, thank god. You, lady.” Dana’s gaze falls coldly over her glasses on the man waving a hand at her. “I need someone to treat me.”
Dana appraises the scene. “You have a pretty stellar team around you right now, sir. Can I ask what the problem is?”
“Get me someone who’s not a goddamn queer!” he bellows. Dana is still only half inside the room, gripping the door frame to lean inside. She barely flinches at the outburst.
“You want me to run around this hospital to find you a different doctor when you have four excellent ones here already? On a personal preference?”
“It’s a matter of faith.”
“Faith,” Dana repeats drily.
“Well, what about you? You can treat me while we wait for a real doctor.”
Now Dana does smile. “I’m afraid that’s out of the question, sir, by your own parameters.”
“How come?” his voice is fading, his head is starting to loll. The drugs are kicking in at last.
“Well,” Dana’s voice is all business. She’s already checking her notes as the patient hangs on her words. “The woman currently pumping you full of sedatives is my wife,” she looks up from her clipboard, eyes wicked. Miller’s face falls. He cranes his neck awkwardly to look up at McKay who waves down at him. Then, finally, he’s out.
“Sleep tight,” Ellis coos.
Trinity lets out a long, shaky breath. She knows she’s staring but she can’t help it. She looks from Dana to Cassie, then back again.
“Alright people, let’s work, victory lap later.” Garcia is skirting the gurney to help McKay maneuver the dislocation back into place.
“Are we good?” Dana’s already sliding back out of the room.
“We—you—are phenomenal!” Ellis crows. “McKay, your wife is my hero.”
“Tell me about it,” McKay blows Dana a kiss.
Dana rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “Make it snappy and get back out here.”
Shift change arrives blissfully soon after that. Hand-off is a breeze. Trinity finds Whitaker and Javadi sharing a charting station.
Whitaker looks up warily. “Oh no. I don’t like that face. What did you do?”
“Yet again, Huckleberry, you hurt my feelings. Why so suspicious?”
“Because we know you,” Victoria says tiredly.
“Aww that’s sweet. I’ll choose to be touched. Does that mean that you don’t want to our betting results?”
That gets their attention.
“You already have our money,” Whitaker whines. “You can’t hold us in suspense, too.”
“They’re,” Trinity can hardly believe the words are leaving her mouth. “Married.”
At first, her companions are silent with shock. Until their brains process the information seemingly in sync and they burst out in a simultaneous flood of questions and exclamations of disbelief. Trinity is laughing, re-spinning the tale of the last hour for them.
Across the room, Ahmad slaps two tens into Princess’s palm. She fans them toward Perlah, who takes one with a satisfied, “Thank you very much.”
“Took them longer than I thought it would,” he sighs, disappointment thick in his voice. “What is with kids these days?”
“They underestimate us old folks—they think they’re the first ones to do anything,” Perlah sighs, pocketing the money. “Santos hasn’t even been here six months and she thinks she’s figured everyone out.”
Princess gives her an evil look. “Wanna bet how long it’ll take for her to sniff you out?”
“You don’t think she’s learned her lesson?” Ahmad asks.
“I put fifty on a year plus,” Princess says confidently.
“I’ll match you for two.” Perlah shakes her hand.
“I’ll leave this one to you. I’ll just watch.”
“Won’t be much to see,” Princess laughs. “The thought hasn’t even crossed her mind to wonder.”
“No planting hints,” Perlah points an accusing finger.
“Who me?” Princess bats her eyes. “I never cheat.”
“Ok, kids,” Dana’s weary voice reaches them from the exit. “We’re outta here.”
“Don’t burn the place down while we’re gone, Robby,” Cassie lays a hand on his shoulder as she passes.
“I’ll do my best,” he pats her shoulder. “Get some rest.”
“Hold up!” They’re already gone, so Trinity has to chase after them.
She catches up to them in the parking lot. The sun glares hotly down, making her eyes water. Dana has her arm slung around Cassie’s waist, thumb hooked into the waistband of her scrubs. They turn when they hear Trinity calling.
“What’s up, Santos?” Dana leans tiredly against McKay.
“Just wanted to give you this,” Trinity says hurriedly.
Cassie takes the sixty bucks with a look of bewilderment. “Did you steal from me and I didn’t notice or something?”
Trinity shakes her head. “No. It’s, uh, it’s the pot from a bet we had going.”
“A bet?” Dana pushes her aviators up into her hair to look more sharply at Trinity.
Trinity holds her ground. “Yeah. Huckleberry, Crash, and I...well it doesn’t really matter. We all lost. You guys should take the money.”
“Do I want to know?” Cassie is folding the bills neatly with one hand, the other fishing for her car keys.
“Probably not,” Trinity grins. “But,” she scuffs a foot on the pavement self-consciously. “I just wanted to repeat what Ellis said in the trauma earlier—you’re both pretty cool.”
They both look taken aback. Cassie’s eyes are soft and Dana’s mouth twists with amusement. “Why, thank you, Trinity,” Dana says, laughing a little.
“I’ll have to remember that for when Harrison starts accusing us of embarrassing him. Remind him that his moms are cool.”
“Get some rest, Santos. We’ll all be back before you know it.”
“Yeah, you too.”
Dana holds the driver’s side door open for Cassie. On her way to the passenger side, she squeezes Trinity’s shoulder.
“Took you long enough,” she said. “You think you’ll be able to mind your own business for a few days now?”
“You knew?”
“What kind of charge nurse will I be if I didn’t know everything going on on my floor?”
“Nothing gets past you, I guess.”
“Damn right it doesn’t. Don’t you forget it. And, Santos,”
“Yeah?”
“A hidden affair, really? Remember your place, missy. I may have had a couple decades of heterosexual confinement but I’ve been eating pussy since before you were born.”
Trinity gapes. She hears Cassie through the open windows say, “What did you say to her? She looks stricken.”
“Don’t worry about it, babe. Now for the love of god, take me home.”
“On it.”
Trinity sees their hands, linked loosely between the seats as Cassie pulls out and they peel slowly by her. She can’t seem to find the ability to move for several minutes. Garcia finds her in the ambulance bay.
“Aren’t you working still?” Trinity takes in her bag, keys, jacket.
“Nah,” she adjusts the strap of her bag. “I just came in for a couple hours. I thought,” she clears her throat, not looking at Trinity. “I thought that you might want a ride home. After the long shift. That I could give you a ride.”
Trinity stared at her. “You came back to work so you could give me a ride home?”
“How many ways do you want me to say it?”
“One is good,” she placates hurriedly. “I—is that my stuff?” Garcia follows her gaze down to where she’s holding Trinity’s bag and coat.
“Yeah, I grabbed it all for you.”
“Thanks.” Trinity feels suddenly out of her depth. “Let me just—uh—my keys.”
“I already gave them to Whitaker. Figured you’d be soft and want him have the car for a ride home. Come on,” her hands, usually so firm and efficient, are gentle on her side as she turns her back around. “Time for you to rest.”
Trinity walks beside her woodenly. “So,” she hazards as they climb into Garcia’s car. “You knew Dana and Cassie were married the whole time, didn’t you?”
Yolanda’s smile is wide. “Trinity, everyone but you fools have known forever. They don’t exactly hide it.”
“I guess I should be mortified.” Trinity is already feeling herself slipping. It will be a fight to stay awake for the short ride. She realizes she doesn’t know whose house they’re going to and that she doesn’t care. “I guess,” she says without thinking much of it, “Part of me couldn’t square how in love they are with the possibility that that means that they could just...be together...have each other. But that’s exactly what they are. In love. And together. That’s that. It should have been obvious. But it wasn’t. To me.”
She hears a slow sigh beside her. “Close your eyes, Trin. I’ll wake you when we’re there.”
“Ok,” Trinity nods and, finally, sleeps.