Work Text:
It happened one morning when Abbot was working at the standing desk next to where Samira was sitting. A new email popped up from Admin reinforcing the rule that ID badges needed to be clipped to scrub tops and worn visibly at all times. The email coming out the day after Whitaker had lost his badge yet again could not be coincidental.
Samira patted hers, which was, as usual, clipped to her front chest pocket. It’s where Dr. Adamson had his clipped the first day she met him as a med student, and it’s where she’s always worn hers. It’s where almost everyone else wore theirs with a few exceptions. Dana’s was usually on the v-neck of her top. Dr. Al’s was clipped lower, but still very much visible.
Dr. Abbot had, for as long as she could remember, flaunted the rules as usual and worn his clipped to the pocket of his scrub pants. If it was even visible. More than once she had noticed it missing from view, like right now, for instance. His pocket was almost at her eye level, and despite the obstructed view, she could tell from her peripheral vision that the badge wasn’t hanging from it.
He was obviously logged into the EMR though, so he must have it on him somewhere. Perhaps he had gotten the memo and decided to wear it on his top for once? She tried to look for it without him noticing. Starting at his waist, she scanned upwards, past the chest pocket, a brief detour to his sleeves (and biceps), all the way up to the loop on the top shoulder seam which was sewn in specifically for the purpose of clipping an ID badge to. Nada. Zilch. Nothing.
“Anything I can help you with, Dr. Mohan?” He was still staring at the screen, but of course he had noticed her checking him out.
“I just wanted to make sure my favorite attending was compliant with the dress code.” Their recent interaction had made her more bold with him, and she could tell he was enjoying it as much as she was.
He stopped typing and finally looked at her. Seeing she was serious, he stepped away from the desk so as to present himself for her inspection. “And?”
When Jack Abbot gives you permission to ogle him, you ogle him.
She leaned back, crossed her arms, and gave him a more thorough onceover. From his raised eyebrow, down to the smirk on his lips, the stubble along his jaw, past the throat she’d been wanting to lick, along the slope of his traps, over the pecs hidden under his top (but which she could still picture clear as day whenever she closed her eyes), down to his waistband, and…oh. Hmm, this was interesting. A bulge where there shouldn’t be one, at least not during work hours.
“Is that your ID badge in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
It was the oldest, cheesiest line in the world, but he was old and cheesy, and it actually made him laugh out loud. He pulled the badge out of his pocket and flashed it at her quickly before shoving it back in there.
“Wait, can I see that again?” She held out her hand, thinking it was a simple request. Then she watched him hesitate and actually blush. This man—who could intubate under active fire, who had no problem being ogled—this man was blushing because she asked to see his ID badge.
Reluctantly, he pulled the badge out of his pocket again and handed it to her.
She confirmed what she had noticed previously and asked, “Dr. Abbot, is your name misspelled on your ID badge?”
“Yeah,” he sheepishly admitted.
His last name was spelled “ABBOTT” on the much-scratched piece of plastic. She peered more closely at his picture. He still had auburn hair in it with nary a streak of gray. “How long have you had this ID?”
He raked a hand through his salt-and-pepper curls. “Since I started here?”
“Why haven’t you gotten it corrected?”
“It didn’t seem important enough.”
“Hold up, is this why you keep the badge in your pocket?” She looked around. Dr. Al and the new attending had already clocked in for the day shift; he was no longer needed here. Standing up, she said, “Let’s go; we’re going to get this fixed now.”
“No, it’s fine.” He tried to take his badge back, but she evaded him and held it behind her back.
“Why are you being like this? Are you scared of Mrs. Shier?” Mrs. Shier was the long-tenured receptionist of the HR department. Anything you needed from HR had to go through her, and she had a reputation for being quite intimidating. Samira had never seen Abbot be intimidated by anyone, ever, though. His abundant charisma and flirtatious nature usually had everyone eating out of his hand by the end of their first encounter.
“It’s just not worth bothering her about.”
“Dr. Abbot, it absolutely is worth it to have your name spelled correctly on your own ID badge. We’re going now; I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“When did you get so bossy?”
“Admit it, you like it.”
He frowned at her but didn’t deny it.
“Besides, Mrs. Shier likes me.” She started walking out of the ED, and he had no choice but to follow her since she still had his badge in her hands.
When they arrived at the HR office, Mrs. Shier cracked a smile when she first saw Samira enter, then went back to her resting bitch face once she saw Abbot follow her in.
“Please tell me you’re not here for a Workplace Relationship Disclosure Form,” she said as a greeting.
“What? No, Mrs. Shier. Nothing like that.”
“Good.” She glared again at Jack before smiling at Samira. “What can I do for you, sweetie?”
“Before we get to that, how’s Emily?”
“Oh bless you, she’s doing fine, dearie. She still asks after you every time I see her.”
“That’s so good to hear, please let her know it was very nice to meet her too. Mrs. Shier, I was hoping you could help my friend here.” She turned around and motioned for him to approach. “See, his name was misspelled on his ID badge and needs to be corrected.” She handed the ID badge to Mrs. Shier. “His last name only has one T.”
“I see.” The receptionist pulled on her glasses and started tapping away on her keyboard. “I see here that this badge was issued back when you started here.” She gave him an accusatory stare. “Is there a reason this is the first I’m hearing about this?”
“I didn’t want to bother you, Mrs. Shier. I know you’re busy enough as it is.” He tried to flash his trademark grin, but she just gave a hmph and looked back at her computer monitor.
Samira gave him an inquiring glance, and he gave a helpless shrug in response.
The laser printer behind the desk started working, and once it was done, Mrs. Shier grabbed the form and handed it and the badge back to Samira even though Jack had his hand held out.
“Bring this to Security, and they’ll issue him a new badge.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Shier. You’re the best!” Samira motioned with a tilt of her head that Jack should do the same.
“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Shier.”
They were about to walk away when they heard her say, “Wait.” They turned around to see that she was holding out two twenties and a post-it note that was folded in half. “Can you give this to Ahmad when you’re down there? He’ll know what it’s for.”
Abbot was quicker than Samira and grabbed the proffered items. “Sure thing, Mrs. Shier. And thanks again.”
She had already turned back to her monitor and ignored him. He knew to quit while he was ahead and rejoined Samira.
“What do you think that’s about?” she asked, using her chin to indicate the money and note in his hands.
“I don’t think we want to know.” While they were waiting for the elevator, he asked, “Who’s Emily?”
“Her granddaughter. I treated her when she came in a few months ago for a pea that had gotten stuck in her nose.”
“Oh, that explains it.”
“Also, you know, everyone says I’m good with the elderly too.”
It was the way she said it that made him look at her more closely. It really seemed to bother her. “Dr. Mohan, you’re good with everyone. You know you have the best patient satisfaction scores of anyone in the department. There’s no one I trust more down there.”
He sounded sincere, but still, she needed to look him in the eyes to confirm that he wasn’t just blowing smoke up her ass. “You really mean that?”
“Of course,” he said, right as the elevator doors opened and they stepped in. Since they weren’t the only ones in there, their conversation was put on pause for the moment, which gave Samira the chance to have his words echo around in her head.
More than one pair of eyes followed them as they made their way to Security.
“Ahmad, could you make Dr. Abbot here a new ID badge? And make sure his last name is spelled correctly?” She handed him the form and Abbot’s old badge. “Oh, and….” she looked back at Jack.
“Here, Mrs. Shier wanted to pass this on to you.”
Ahmad took the money and opened up the note. He looked back and forth between the two of them and nodded. “Okay, I see you, Mrs. Shier.”
Samira was starting to get a bad feeling about this, but then she felt Abbot’s hand on the small of her back guiding her away and she momentarily lost her train of thought.
Once they were sufficiently clear from prying ears, he said, “Thank you for your help today.”
“Oh, you’re welcome. It was no problem; I’d do it for anyone.”
But she knew no one else could make her feel the way he did as he looked her squarely in the eyes and said, “I know.” And then, “I owe you one.”
She gulped. “I’ll…I’ll let you know the next time I need something from you then.”
As he walked off past her, he bent over and whispered in her ear, “I’m very much looking forward to paying off my debt, Dr. Mohan.”