Chapter Text
"Well, well, Dr Mohan, good to see you eating a proper meal for once."
She doesn't need to look up to know whose deep, slightly raspy voice that is, glaring at her half-eaten protein bar in faux disappointment.
"Yeah," she waves it in the air, "what can I say, Dr Abbot? I like the texture."
"You frighten me, Mohan. Mind if I join?"
She gestures to the chair beside hers, "My pleasure."
It's just banter, she has assured herself on multiple occasions — playful flirting, you could call it. Jack Abbot is, after all, the world's biggest flirt. That's all they are. Words.
"What're you reading?"
He brings her attention back to the abandoned article she has open on her Ipad.
"Oh- the latest Lancet."
"The article about measles coming back?"
She looks surprised, "Yes! Did you read it?"
"Of course I did, Mohan. I eagerly await for the new copy to arrive at my doorstep every month." The expression on his face makes her think he's not really joking.
"You buy the physical copies?"
"Why would I fiddle with my phone," he wrinkles his nose, "when I could be reading medical shit off of good quality paper in my hands?"
The palpable disgust he feels for online article, or really anything to do with using his phone, is unsurprising, considering the man prints every single article he wants to read out onto paper.
"'Medical shit'? You're not getting published there any time soon."
"As if I'd want to. Lancet used to be much better back in my day."
"Yeah, when was that," she jabs, "the 1800s?"
"Watch it kid," a chuckle escapes him, "I have copies of it that are probably older than you."
She is now very aware of how close they are sitting together. He's leaning over slightly, trying to read the article over her shoulder, his shoulder ghosting over hers. She can almost, almost feel it brushing hers, but he pulls back in just in time, stifling a yawn with his hand.
She tries to change the topic, "Where are Shen and Ellis? Haven't seen them in a while."
He checks his watch, which shows 5:30 in red, glowing numbers.
"According to my knowledge, Shen's at the Dunkin's in front of the hospital to be first for whatever sugary crap he gets, and Ellis is sleeping in an on-call room."
"Weird how slow things are going, right?"
"Up-bup-bup," his eyes glint with mirth, "don't let anyone hear, or else they'll crucify you"
A smile tugs at the side of his mouth as he sees the annoyance building up in her. She rolls her eyes and looks away, unwilling to be riled up by him of all people first thing in the morning.
"Why don't you get a hobby that isn't pissing people off or getting shot at?" she counters, but to some extent, she really does wish that he'd stop doing SWAT for funsies.
"I declare that impossible."
"Oh hahah, go be a stand up comedian or something."
The edges of his eyes crinkle as he laughs, dotted with what are probably dozens of freckles, marking him like a constellation map.
"You're catty on the night shift, Mohan," he says, but she knows him well enough to see the lack of seriousness behind it.
"What can I say, you're pretty good at pissing me off, Dr Abbot."
It's peaceful, weirdly so, even with Dr Abbot. The kind of quietude that leaches into your bones and weighs you down with relieving weariness.
"Dr Mohan?"
She continues looking at the screen, "Yeah?"
"I was wondering if you could do me a favour."
"Depends."
"I need someone for a conference."
She turns around, facing him properly now. "A conference?"
"Yup, on the twelfth."
"Of?"
"November."
"So in twelve days?"
He looks a bit sheepish, "Sorry to spring this onto you, but we need another person to come with us."
"Who's we?"
"Ellis, Santos and myself, but the hospital needs a fourth member."
She hums in thought, "I'll see."
He grins, "Thank you, Dr Mohan."
"Where is it?"
"Oh, it's in um- Chennai? I don't know if I'm pronouncing it right, but it's a three day conference at the All India Institute of Medical Sciences."
It's as if the world just screeched to a halt.
"Wh-what?" is all that comes out of her, although it sounds more like a choked out breath.
"Did I butcher it that bad?"
She stares at him for a moment, trying to gauge from his face if he's just kidding, but he's not. "No, no, just surprised."
He looks confused, rightfully so, "What happened? You don't have to come, I was just asking, there's no obligation-"
She shakes her head, "I- nothing."
"Mohan, has anyone told you how horrible of a liar you are?" he quips, obviously trying to deescalate the situation from whatever he thinks is happening.
Sighing in defeat, she replies, "Fine. If you must know, I was born there, like literally in Chennai, in AIIMS, because my dad was a doctor, so yeah- just surprised."
She expects him to be uninterested, maybe amused at best, but instead, he looks — enthralled? A flicker of a grin flashes across his face before he quickly hides it.
"Really? Happy accident, then."
"I guess so, yeah."
He tries to keep a straight face as his stomach swoops, a mixture of extreme relief and guilt mixing inside him to form a problematic cocktail of emotions. Relief that Dr Mohan — he will not under any circumstances let himself call her Samira — has agreed to coming, because he sure as hell doesn't want to be trapped with Ellis and Santos for three days. The guilt on the other hand, well it's because of the fact that none of this is a coincidence. Unless meticulously planning and working for months to get picked for that conference because it's being held where he knows that she grew up counts as a coincidence.
Emery had given him a long, hard stare when he had told her about his plans, but Emery Walsh loves staring him down, so that doesn't count.
He forces himself back, "So, you in?"
She pauses, before answering back, "Yeah, I-I'll come."
"Great," he slaps his thigh as he gets up, "I'll text you the details later?"
"If you know how to use your phone, then sure. Otherwise, you can always send it by carrier pigeon."
He rolls his eyes, "You, Dr Mohan, are trouble."
"I could say the same thing about you, Dr Abbot."
Her eyes are soft, her sometimes prickly surface cracking around the edges as they look at each other, momentarily, but that doesn't stop his heart from soaring.
It's a very, very uneventful rest of her shift, but Samira somehow forgets all about the conference by the time she ends up sprawled on her bed, finally free of the fluorescent halls and smell of metallic antiseptic. She goes to open her phone, planning to just scroll for some time until she falls asleep, but is instead met with a dozen app notifications.
You were added to "Conference: AIIMS" by Jack Abbot
Jack Abbot
Hello everyone, this group chat will be used for the conference from 12th to 16th of November.
Name has been changed to "DESTINATION CONFERENCE BITCHES!" by Parker
Parker
WE'RE GOING TO INDIA PEOPLE
Trinity
HELL YEAH WE ARE
EVERYONE GIVE A WOOHOOO
Parker
WOOHOO
Jack Abbot
Woo fucking hoo.
Trinty
@JackAbbot ur such a kill joy
Jack Abbot
This is supposed to be a professional group chat.
Parker
i'm not afraid to remove you
Jack Abbot
🖕
Samira
this is gonna be fun