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You hadn't signed up to be Jack Abbot's punching bag when you'd first started working at the PTMC, but that is certainly what you ended up being.

He was arrogant, unyielding, and a complete nightmare to work under. You hated him. You hated the sound of his voice, you hated his smug attitude, and most of all, you hated the fact that you wanted him so badly. It was infuriating. He spent every shift tearing into you, making good shifts bad, and bad shifts worse, yet every time he stepped into your personal space, your body completely betrayed you. Your heart hammering not just from anger, but from a desperate, chemical need for him that you couldn't switch off.

He had decided he didn't like you from the second he met you on your first shift, and it had only gotten worse since then. Now, rarely a day went by where he didn't pull you aside and absolutely tear into you for something. Anything.

You were too slow with patients, or your notes weren't clear, or you didn't give him lab results quick enough, or you weren't triaging adequately.

It was something new every single shift you worked together. At first, you had accepted it as criticism, feedback even. You were new after all, and you thought that maybe he was just pushing you to be better. So, you took all of his complaints on board, fixed them, changed the way you worked. It pained you to admit it, but it had made you a better nurse. He didn't seem to care, or notice.

It simply did not matter how good you got, he would always find something new to critique.

You weren't his resident, you were a nurse. It really was not his business, and he should have gone to Lena with any issues he had with your work. He didn't though. He always came right to you, scolding you like a misbehaving child in front of the entire department.

You never provoked him, but when he started his shit, you always fought back. You had never been one to back down from anything, so it almost always ended in a borderline screaming match in the break room, until someone interrupted or separated you.

They were toxic, ugly encounters, yet a dark part of you found yourself secretly starving for them. He looked at you with an intensity that made your skin burn. Spoke to you with such fierce passion and it set your body alight.

His harsh critiques had stopped getting to you pretty much as soon as they started. You'd dealt with egotistical, god-complex afflicted doctors before, so this wasn't particularly surprising, but it was weird. He wasn't like this with anyone else. Didn't nitpick anyone else's work, didn't critique the other nurses or even his residents like he did to you.

You often thought back to the first time you met him, racking your brain for something you could have said or done that had made him hate you so much, but every time you came up completely blank.

He just didn't like you.

TWO YEARS AGO

It had been your first shift as a fully registered nurse, and your whole body was buzzing and shaking with anxiety and excitement when you entered. You were sure you could feel your blood pumping around your body with every thumping heartbeat. Dana had welcomed you immediately, introduced you to Lena and handed you over to her for the night, before grabbing her things and heading out.

You were pretty happy to be placed on nights, so when it was offered to you after your interview, you said yes immediately. Daytime had never been your thing, and your sleep schedule was already utterly fucked, so why not? Night shift was usually more fun anyway.

Lena introduced you to everyone she could, and they'd all been so kind and welcoming. You could feel the nerves in your stomach slowly fading out and into something more comfortable as you shadowed Lena. That is, until you met him.

He'd been stuck in traumas for the first few hours of your shift, and so you hadn't yet met him, but you had definitely heard about him. Several nurses and residents gushed over how hot he was in hushed voices at the nurses' station, people commended his work and clinical precision after wrapping up a case with him. How calm and composed he was, even in the chaos of the ER. Even Lena had been singing his praises, and when she heard about your time in school and how hard you had worked, she was convinced that you and Dr. Abbot were going to be fast friends.

"Oh my God, Jack is going to love you! You're just like him," she'd giggled, pulling your focus back to the conversation at hand and away from your thoughts.

You cleared your throat. "He sounds nice."

She nodded. "He is."

You could not have been more wrong.

"Ah, finally!" Lena exclaimed. You had been shadowing her for your first shift, familiarising yourself with the layout and the people. Changing dressings, hanging and pushing IVs. You had even been assigned to triage with Mateo for a few hours, and you'd had a great time doing it. Now, you were back with Lena at the nurses' station, as she typed away on the computer and showed you how to work the system.

"Jack, this is our new nurse! Freshly graduated, did most of her rotations at Presby. She'll be on the night shift with us. She's incredible." She turned to you, smiled and gestured for you to get up and say hello.

Lena's words pulled your eyes from the screen, and you readied yourself to meet the man with the so-called flawless reputation.

Immediately your breath caught in your throat.

Fuck.

You could feel yourself blushing, heat creeping up your neck and face. He was gorgeous. His hair was messy, the salt and pepper curls wild on his head, yet flattened slightly from where you assumed he'd been running his hands through it. A rough layer of mostly grey stubble covered the lower half of his face, and you couldn't help but imagine running your hand over it.

His eyes were crinkled at the corners. Crows' feet. There were freckles too, scattered across his face, neck and arms. Jesus, his arms. Age looked really fucking good on him.

He stood with his arms crossed on the other side of the nursing station counter, his dark eyes bearing into your own. Your heartbeat had suddenly started thundering in your chest, beating against your ribcage so violently that you felt a little dizzy. He held your gaze for a second or two, and nodded slightly.

"Hi, Dr. Abbot! It's nice to meet you!" Somehow, you had managed to speak and form the words, but your voice still sounded a little wobbly. You took a deep, grounding breath.

"I'm really excited to be working here. I've heard great things about you all day!" You had tried to sound normal and steady, but the words had come out awkward and stunted instead. You offered your hand as you told him your name, a polite smile plastered on your face.

He didn't take your hand. For a split second, he didn't even move. His dark eyes fixed on yours with a sudden, sharp intensity that made the air in the room feel instantly heavy. You swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling very intimidated, and retracted your hand.

He looked you up and down slowly before responding, and it made every hair on your body stand on end. Suddenly, you were very insecure about how you had styled yourself.

Something flashed across his face as he met your eyes again, but it was so fast that you couldn't quite pinpoint it, though you could see his jaw clenching and flexing. He stood there for a moment, and the silence stretched out for just a second too long.

"Right. Yeah, nice to meet you too," he replied curtly. His voice was flat and the words came out clipped and dismissive. He said nothing more to you after that. Instead, he turned his shoulder to you, and faced Lena again.

"Lena, can you check on the status of the labs for our patient in North 5?" His tone had shifted now, very clinical.

"Yeah Jack, sure. But I-" He cut her off.

"I don't have time for introductions tonight, Lena. Let me know when you get those labs back." He said sharply, as he grabbed an iPad from the rack on the counter and turned to walk away.

"Oh, and let's keep the new hires away from critical traumas for the first few days. We're already short-staffed. I can't have anyone slowing us down."

And then he was gone. Walking swiftly towards the north cubicles, tapping at the iPad as he went.

You blinked, stunned.

Wow. What an asshole.

You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding, and noticed your hands were gripping onto the counter and your knuckles were white. Lena turned to you immediately, and started apologising for him.

"I'm sorry about that. He's not usually like that, I promise. It's been a rough shift for him." She shot you a small smile, and you nodded, shrugged, and smiled back.

"Okay, then!" She suddenly said, rubbing her hands together.

"You've met pretty much everyone now, and you know how everything works. Do you want to go back and assist Mateo in triage for a while? I'll get caught up in here."

You were standing up and grabbing your water bottle before she had even finished her sentence.

Yes, please.

Mateo had been so kind and helpful, but honestly you would have taken any opportunity to get away from this very awkward and slightly infuriating situation.

"Yeah, of course! Thank you, Lena."

The rest of the shift flew by, and you thankfully hadn't run into Dr. Abbot again. Thank God. You and Mateo, though, clicked instantly. You fell into step together so easily, and quickly progressed to light banter and teasing each other. He was great - kind, and patient, maybe even a little flirty. You tried your best to flirt back, but your mind kept flitting back to Dr. Abbot.

Mateo was undeniably cute, but you were entirely preoccupied by Dr. Abbot's cold dismissal of you. How could everyone have been so wrong about him? All day you had heard about how kind he was, how calm and attentive he was. The man you met earlier was the complete opposite of all of those things. Why had he been so rude to you?

You remembered hoping that maybe he'd be in a better mood the next day, and you guys could start fresh. Lena had thought so after all, and she'd been working with him for years. They couldn't all have been wrong about him.

They were.

TWO WEEKS AGO

"Oh fuck off, Abbot. I'm busy, go and scream at someone else for a change!"

You scoffed at him and rolled your eyes. The ER beeped and buzzed around you as you wove through the crowd, on a mission for a much-needed coffee refill. Abbot was following closely behind you as he berated you. This time, you had apparently taken too long with another patient. Again. This was his favourite critique of you; at least once a day, he brought this up.

"We have three incoming traumas, ETA fifteen goddamn minutes and you're sitting on your ass listening to this guy's life story? Come on, Flash. Do better. We don't have time for you to sit down and gossip!"

Flash. You hated that he called you that. It was supposed to be ironic, because he thinks you're too slow at everything. You didn't find it funny. At all. It made your fucking blood boil, and you clenched your fists. God, you could have punched him.

He closed the door behind him as soon as you both stepped into the break room. You headed towards the coffee machine instantly, and almost screamed when you saw it was completely empty.

"I wasn't fucking gossiping, Abbot. He was scared. I already helped prep the trauma bays as soon as we got the call. I was checking his vitals while we waited." You finally snapped back, as you rummaged through the cupboards, slamming the doors shut when you didn't find the bag of coffee. No coffee. No caffeine. Great.

You were trying so fucking hard to stay calm, but Jack had already been riding you about your pace today. You were sick of it. Sick of him. That patient was scared, and it was your job to care for them. Not just physically. He seemed to have forgotten that.

You'd been working on a patient in South 12. Dislocated shoulder and some pretty gnarly road rash from a cycling accident. Thankfully, nothing life threatening. But the guy had been terrified, was almost hit by a passing car as he fell off of his bike. He was trembling and shaking when you had gone in to check his vitals.

So, you had sat down with him, tried to talk him down. After a few minutes -five at the most- he had calmed down and started to relax. You were just preparing to leave and see a different patient when Abbot walked in and all but pulled you out by the collar.

"It doesn't fucking matter, Flash. You need to be faster. End of story." He barked. "It's not good enough."

"Oh fuck you, Abbot. I've been doing this for two years now, I know what I'm doing."

You threw your empty thermos into the sink with a loud clatter, and rubbed your temples in frustration.

"And in those two years, not a single shift has gone by where you're not on my ass about something. What is your fucking problem?" You snapped at him, your voice a little high pitched and rising in volume with every word.

Why did he do this? It was like he did it on purpose, just to see how far he could push you.

He leaned against the closed door, crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

"You can do better. You can be faster. So, do it, and be it." He snapped, but he smirked as he said it, and the sheer smugness of it made you want to slap him.

You stormed towards him, nostrils flaring and cheeks red with with rage.

"You're an asshole, Abbot. Let me out. Now." Your skin felt like it was on fire, anger and something else simmering under the surface.

He stayed perfectly still, barely even blinked. It took all your resolve not to punch him in the jaw and make him move.

"Move Jack-ass. Now, or I swear to God I will hit you." You spat at him. The threat had felt empty in your head before you said it, and it sounded feeble from your lips.

Abbot just smirked, and his eyes flashed with... something. How could you still not read him after two years of this shit?

He just stared at you for a moment too long, eyes raking over your form. He looked at you with an intensity that made your skin burn and prickle. It sparked a reckless and intrusive thought in your mind.

You wanted to just step into his space and shut him up with a kiss. You wanted to know if he tasted as bitter as the words he spoke.

Why did he still affect you like this? You hated him. He was rude and cruel and incredibly frustrating. Yet still, when he looked at you like he sometimes did, eyes hooded and jaw clenched, your heart fluttered and your stomach flipped and you wished the ground would just swallow you whole.

He finally stepped away from the door and opened his mouth to speak, but you'd already walked out. You yanked the door open with such force it damn near hit him in the shoulder, but you didn't care. You stalked towards the ambulance bay for a well deserved smoke break, and you didn't look back.

As soon as the cold night air hit you, you breathed out a deep sigh of relief, and reached immediately for your pack of cigarettes. You lit one, sat down on the cold concrete, and inhaled. The relief came almost immediately, and your shoulders loosened.

Your head pounded, your heart raced, and rage bubbled underneath your skin as you thought back to the fight, shoulders tensed up again just at the thought, and you rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands, as if to scrub the memory and stress away.

The thought that this wouldn't be the last fight with him passed fleetingly in your head, and it made you want to curl up in a ball on the concrete and never move. You were so fucking tired of this. Of him.

God, he drove you crazy, and the worst part is that he knows it. You'd always been like this - feisty, never willing to back down from a fight - and Abbot knew just what buttons to press to get you there. It sometimes felt like he did it on purpose.

Still, two years after that first shift, that awful first meeting, he still hated you. You'd tried to talk to him about it on several occasions, but he simply was not interested. Even when HR threatened to get involved and resolve it one way or another, he still hadn't been interested in having a working relationship with you.

Every conversation you had tried to initiate with him, he just tuned you out and dismissed the matter. He wouldn't talk to you, wouldn't try to resolve whatever issue he had with you. The only thing he did was berate and critique you, or stare at you with dark, unreadable eyes from across the ER.

He didn't even try. You supposed that's what pissed you off most.

You took another drag. Longer this time, letting the smoke fill your lungs and quell the rage before you exhaled.

"Rough shift?" Javadi. Your brain settled purely at the sound of her voice.

Her voice cut through the quiet dark of the ambulance bay as she walked toward you. You knew the voice immediately, almost as well as you knew your own. It startled you slightly. You hadn't even noticed she was out here, but a small smile crept over your face at her voice. Familiar. Safe. Calm.

Javadi had been one of the people you instantly connected with, alongside Mateo and Emma. You were all similar in age, and in an environment like The Pitt, where everyone seemed to know exactly what they were doing, and had years of experience on you, you all found comfort in each other.

The four of you had become quite the quartet, and you found yourself always with at least one of them. Even on your days off, you all gravitated towards each other for drinks or an excuse to vent. Before long, you and Mateo convinced Javadi and Emma to switch to nights, and you had been inseparable ever since. Emma even moved into your apartment when you needed a new roommate, and that had been the thing that really brought you all together.

You scoffed jokingly. "Isn't it always a rough shift?"

Smoke billowed from your lips as you spoke, and you watched it evaporate into the night air, wishing you could do the same thing. Javadi sat down next you and leaned against the cold brick wall. She brought her knees to her chest, and leaned her chin on them.

"Jack again? Jesus."

Her eyes widened and she sighed. She brought her purple vape to her mouth and inhaled slowly, shaking her head in disbelief.

"It's always him. He should just retire already - he's pretty much pensioner age anyway," you joked. A feeble attempt to lighten the mood.

Javadi didn't laugh; she just smiled softly and apologetically at you.

Pity. Ugh.

"Don't feel bad for me, Vic. I'm used to it now. It stopped getting to me a long time ago." You leaned your head back against the wall, and crossed your legs. Free hand pinching the bridge of your nose as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Javadi didn't say anything, but she tilted her head and looked at you expectantly. You should've known, can't get anything past that girl.

"Ugh. Fine. I'm thinking about leaving. Is that what you wanted to hear, Vic?" You snapped, and you regretted it immediately. Javadi didn't flinch, just gave you a small nod and gestured for you to carry on.

"Sorry. It's just- I can't work like this anymore. He makes it unbearable for me. I'm exhausted and when I think about coming into work... I just- I can't do it anymore." The words came spilling out of your mouth all at once, and they tasted like acid on your tongue.

Javadi shook her head.

"No. You can't leave. That gives him power, and more power is the last thing Jack Abbot needs. You can't just let him win. Everyone else here loves you. I love you. Just- don't rush into anything okay?"

Her eyes were wide and pleading, and you truly understood her point of view, but you were at your breaking point.

"I know. I get it, I do, and I want to stay but it's- it's too much. If he wasn't here, I'd never leave. But he is, so I think I have to."

"No. You're not leaving. You can't just leave." Javadi's' tone was stern and unwavering, but you could see the panic in the furrow of her eyebrows.

"Vic." You interjected. "It's only getting worse. HR are eventually going to step in and fire one of us if we can't start working together. And when they do, it's not going to be him. I'm just a nurse, and he's.... Well, him."

The reality of the situation had dawned on you months prior, and you'd given it a lot of thought since then. They wouldn't fire him if it came to it. It was going to be you. You'd prayed that it would get better, that eventually he'd come around, but he hadn't. A termination this early into your career? No. You'd worked too hard for this, and he wasn't going to ruin it for you.

Javadi sighed deeply, scoffed and then shook her head in disbelief.

"He's such a fucking asshole." She spat, and you could see the anger in her eyes. "We have to do something."

"Vic, there's nothing to do. This is the solution, honey. I'll be fine. You'll be fine. We'll still hang out all the time. I'm not leaving today, I haven't even talked to Lena yet. I'm not going anywhere for now." You giggled a little, and nudged her with your elbow.

"I just think it's the best option. I don't want either of us to lose our jobs. I might hate him, but he's a damn good doctor, and he's a good attending to you all."

She didn't really respond, but you heard her take a deep breath and sit up a little straighter.

"Okay, let's talk about something else. Please?" You pulled out your best impression of puppy dog eyes, and pouted your bottom lip dramatically for good measure.

Victoria belly laughed in response, and leaned into you. You stayed that way for a few seconds, just leaning into each other and enjoying the quiet.

She hit her vape again, stretched her legs out, and a quiet yawn escaped from her mouth before she spoke.

"I don't want to go home today. Was thinking about working a double. My mom is driving me crazy. Ugh."

She groaned, and leaned her head against your shoulder. You could see the worry and stress in her face when you looked down at her, how her forehead wrinkled and her brows furrowed at just the mention of her mom. Yeah. Dr. Shamsi was... A lot.

"Stay with me and Emma for a bit. We have enough space. You can sleep on the sofa bed, or in my bed if you want? I'm sure Emma won't mind."

The offer had rolled off of your tongue before you could even think it through. Vic had stayed with you and Emma plenty of times, but never for more than a night or two. You wanted to tell her that the offer was as much for you as it was for her. I could really use the company, you wanted to say, but you didn't.

"Really?" Javadi's face lit up, and you could see as the relief washed over her. "Thank you so much!"

"Of course. You can stay for as long as you want." You grinned at her, and warmth bloomed in your chest.

Maybe with Javadi around more often, you'd have less time to spend thinking about him.

Both of you pushed yourselves to your feet, and smoothed out your scrubs, wiping away any debris from the ground.

She pulled you into tight hug and thanked you over and over. "Let me go, Vic! I'll burn you." You giggled, holding the cigarette as far away from her as possible. She let go, and thanked you one more time.

"Perfect. Maybe with all this extra time together, I'll be able to convince you to stay!" She said with a wink, and then she was gone. Typical.

A few more drags of your cigarette later, you stubbed it out and turned to head inside. You popped a mint into your mouth and walked towards the doors, breathing deeply as you went, preparing yourself for whatever lay ahead.

Suddenly, Mateo came bursting through them, scaring the hell out of you and stopping you in your tracks in the process.

"Mateo? What's wrong?"

He looked worried, and his hair was wild, his slightly frizzy curls fluttering a little in the night breeze.

"Nothing. You okay?" He asked, as he dropped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards his side. He looked so exhausted, but then again, you all did.

"I heard you and Jack in the break room, figured you'd be out here. Everything okay?" He continued.

His arm stayed around your shoulder as he guided you back into the ER. The familiar sound of chaos and yelling and beeping filled your ears, and a strange comfort settled in your chest.

"Yeah. All good, Teo. Just the usual." You leant into his arm a little, and you could feel that he was tense. He was always so warm.

You knew why he was tense. He hated how Abbot treated you, and he had told him as much more than once. Abbot hadn't seemed to care at all. Guilt seeped into your bones as Mateo's arm tightened around your shoulder. You hated lying to him. He was, arguably, your closest friend, and he had been since your first day here.

Mateo sighed, and stopped walking, so you did too. He pulled you into a full hug, and just held you there for a few seconds, swaying side to side slightly as he did. His cheek rested on the crown of your head, and you all but melted into it, wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him tight. You never wanted to let go.

"You're gonna squeeze me to death, kid." Mateo muttered, before pulling away.

"Good thing we're in an ER then, huh?" You retorted, and Mateo just laughed softly. "And stop with the 'kid' thing, please. I am literally a year older than you, Teo!"

"Never, kid." He said with a wink and a nudge of your shoulder. You just rolled your eyes and pushed him away from you a little.

"Right." Mateo exclaimed, and he rubbed his hands together. "ETA three minutes now. Let's go, kid."

"Ughhhhhh. Fine." You groaned. Exhaustion bled into every fibre of your body, but you had a job to do, so you smoothed out your scrubs, took a deep breath, and walked with Mateo to the nurses' station.

You leaned your elbows on the counter as Lena told you where she wanted you for the incoming traumas. You listened, nodded along, and sanitised your hands when she waved you off. With one more deep breath for the road, you set off to grab a pair of gloves and prepare.

From the corner of your eye, you could see and feel Abbot watching you. His gaze felt like it bore holes into your skin, and you shivered a little. When you turned to get a real look at him, his eyes were flicking between you and Mateo, who was still standing at the nurses' station. He looked.... Mad.

It caused anxiety or something similar to twist in your stomach, and your skin felt prickly all over. You shook it off, and headed towards the bay doors to be ready.

Abbot watched you intensely the entire time. You could feel it. His eyes didn't leave you once. You held the eye contact for a second, before you turned away from him.

Jesus. He really did not like you. Probably thought you and Mateo were so unprofessional for hugging in the middle of his department. You couldn't contain the eye roll that came. He'd probably call you out on it later.

What an asshole.

JACK

Jack Abbot has pretty much been in love with you for as long as he's known you.

Since that very first - very awkward - introduction, he'd been completely and utterly consumed by you.

You invaded almost all of his thoughts, and it drove him crazy. He couldn't think straight around you, became another man entirely. He became a man who followed you around the ER without even realising he was doing it, a man who tracked your every move and whose eyes always found you, regardless of how busy he was.

It had only gotten worse with every passing shift together. At first, he'd put it down to an inconvenient and very inappropriate crush, but it became clear quite quickly that that was not the case. He needed you like he needed oxygen, and it fucking terrified him.

He hadn't meant to be so... Cruel. He didn't want you to hate him. That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to mean something to you, but that was far too humiliating of a truth to admit, so he had done everything he could to drive you away from him. He told himself that it was to protect you. To protect himself. He was far too old for you, too damaged.

It started with small comments on your work, something to make you avoid him in the hallways so that he wouldn't have to see you. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Wrong.

It had backfired almost immediately. You took all of his comments on board, tried to be better, as if you weren't already good enough. He knew you were, but he'd needed to do something to keep you at arms length.

He knew he couldn't be your friend because he wouldn't be able to stay in that box. Being near you was far too dangerous. No, he had to push you away. Far, far away.

Then, when you had started avoiding him, it wasn't long before Jack realised that he actually thought about you more when you weren't around.

It was torture. Sisyphean in nature. It felt like he was being punished for wanting you, as if the gods had decided you would be the fruit trees to his Tantalus. Ever hungry for you, but never able to bring the fruit to his lips and eat.

So, he'd done the next best thing. Levelled up the critique, started pushing you more and more, just so he could pull you aside, away from the chaos, and be close to you. He couldn't let you see how deeply you owned him, but he still craved your presence. Your scent. Your everything.

He hadn't expected you to start pushing back with such confidence and ferocity, but he came to love it. Need it, even. He loved that you were sure enough of yourself to defend your work. Soon, it had become the routine, and though it wasn't exactly what he'd planned, he still got what he wanted.

He got to keep you far away enough that you couldn't read him, but close enough that his craving to be around you was (sort of) satiated. It was safe enough of an excuse to pull you into quiet rooms or hallways, away from everyone so that he could see you. Smell you. Feel your presence.

Even though it almost always ended in a shouting match that he never planned, he admired your passion. It brought out his own, something he thought he'd lost long ago.

He thought back to the first time he met you every single day. Regretted every single word he had said to you. The words had tasted like ash in his mouth back then, and the memory of them only got more bitter with each passing year.

You had been nervous and pleasant and kind, and so achingly beautiful that it made him nauseous. And Jack? He'd been rude and dismissive and, well, a dick. It had been the beginning of the end for him, and by the end of your first shift, Jack knew one thing with certainty.

He was in love with you.

TWO YEARS AGO

The memory of the first time Jack Abbot met you was burned into his memory like a brand.

It had been a long fucking night already, and Jack had only clocked in a few hours ago. He was fucking exhausted, and every muscle and bone in his body ached. His prosthetic rubbed into his leg, and he could practically feel the blisters forming.

Fuck.

Sometimes he hated this job. Couldn't understand why he kept coming back, even when every sane part of his brain told him to run and never look back. But he did. After every vacation and sick day and gruelling, life-altering shift, he came back.

There was probably something wrong with him.

It had just been one of those nights. Trauma after trauma after trauma. He hadn't so much as looked at his now cold cup of coffee since he clocked in. He'd walked through the doors and immediately been swamped.

Incoming trauma, ETA 5 minutes. Abbot, I need an assist here. Hey, I need an attending in Trauma 2. Hey doc, can I present to you?

It was non-stop. He'd barely had time to catch his breath between cases, and it was starting to wear him down. He needed a break. And caffeine. And a cigarette. He'd finally been on his way to the break room for some much-needed zen when he was pulled aside. Again.

"Abbot! Wait up, man!"

Classic. Jack grimaced and ran a heavy hand over his face before he turned around. He was too tired to hide the frustration in his face and voice.

"What is it, Shen?" He asked, his tired eyes meeting Shen's bright, hopeful ones.

Still, after years of working alongside the guy, he could not understand how he always had so much energy and patience. It seemed to be endless, and it pissed Jack off immensely. Whatever Shen was on, Jack needed some. Stat.

"Dude, relax." Shen said as he rolled his eyes and took a loud, unbothered sip out of his Dunkin' cup.

"Did you meet the new nurse? She's night shift, started today." Shen nodded as he looked vaguely around the ED.

New nurse? Jack couldn't recall ever hearing about a new nurse starting in the ED today. Probably missed some stupid automated email from HR while he drowned in charts and paperwork.

"Nice." He muttered, but he wasn't really listening. He was too focused on getting to the break room to sit down and inhale as much caffeine as possible before someone inevitably asked for him again.

"Yeah. Nice." Shen replied sarcastically as he snapped his fingers in front of Jack's face. "Dude. Are you even listening?"

"Not really. Sorry. Long night." He managed to force a small, apologetic smile in Shen's general direction.

"She's pretty cool. I think you're gonna like her." Shen continued, completely unfazed. "She came in and like, got right into it, you know? She's like a mini you. Way prettier though." Shen shot him a wink, and Jack huffed out a small, tired laugh.

"God, I hope not. More me is the last thing we need in this place."

Shen laughed. "Ha! Damn right, Grandpa."

Jack rolled his eyes, dismissed Shen with a flick of his wrist, and turned back toward the central hub so he could make his way to the break room. Tranquility called to him, just within his grasp.

He was merely fifteen feet away from a pot of coffee and a seat when Lena's far too cheery voice cut through the chaos of the ER.

"Ah, finally!"

That was it. Jack was going to scream and rip his hair out.

He gathered himself before turning toward Lena at the nurses' station, and barely managed to force the scowl off his face.

"Yeah?" He sighed out, and Lena ushered him over. Jack was utterly defeated. His coffee and cigarette and five minutes of quiet were a dumb fantasy. He should've known better by now, and he scolded himself internally for even entertaining the idea at all.

Jack had been far too in his own head to notice you sitting next to Lena at first. He hadn't even registered there was another person there at all. But then Lena spoke.

"Jack, this is our new nurse! Freshly graduated, did most of her rotation at Presby. She'll be on the night shift with us. She's incredible."

He turned toward you as you stood up, ready to give his usual new-start spiel and welcome you to the hospital. But then he saw you, and it felt as if all the air had been punched out of his lungs.

Fuck.

He noticed you now, and he was never going to stop noticing you. He was sure of it.

The first thing he registered about you was your smile. Polite, friendly, small, yet still beautiful. Your eyes sparkled and crinkled at the corners, your small, yet full lips stretched into the most gorgeous smile he'd ever seen in his life.

He wanted to make you smile like that, would do whatever it took to keep that smile plastered on your face forever. Would go back to war if it meant you'd keep smiling at him like that.

Then, he noticed your hair. It was clipped back away from your face, but a few small strands escaped from the front and framed your face. It took all of Jack's resolve not to lean over and push them behind your ear, and his fingertips tingled at the thought.

Then, your scrubs. You were wearing a light green undershirt, rolled up to your elbows, and your gray scrubs fit you so perfectly. Fitted, but relaxed still. He'd never seen someone look so beautiful in hospital scrubs before. They were smooth and neat, not creased and stained and worn like his own.

The irony struck him instantly then. There you were, young and spirited and new. Not creased, not worn down, not yet marred by nearly two decades in this job and a life lived.

His heart was beating so loud in his ears that he didn't actually hear your name when you introduced yourself. His head was swimming, his pulse was quickening by the second, and his hands were clammy and warm. He stuffed them into his pockets, as if to hide any evidence of the effect you were having on him.

The next thing Jack felt was guilt. Heavy, nauseating, and immediate. He hadn't so much as looked at another woman in the four years that had passed since his wife had died. No dates, no flirting, no anything. But then there you were. Beautiful in an effortless and unintentional way, clearly unaware of how everyone looked at you.

You were young, full of light and youth and hope. Jack had long forgotten that any of those things even existed, and now you were here. Reminding him of all of it with just a simple smile.

It terrified him.

So when you extended your hand out to shake his own, Jack's brain short-circuited. He knew, with a horrifying and sudden certainty, that if he took your hand, let his bare skin brush against yours, he'd never be able to let it go. He stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets and clenched them tightly, and his nails dug into the skin of his palms. The slight pain was sharp, but grounding.

It took every ounce of his courage for him to respond.

"Right. Yeah, nice to meet you too."

The words tasted like bile, and came out far more dismissive and rude than he'd intended. Fuck. He couldn't say anything more to you. He simply couldn't. You'd turned him to goo with just a polite smile and your sparkling eyes. He would literally combust if he engaged in a full conversation with you, he was sure of it.

He watched as you swallowed thickly and clenched your jaw. Watched as you retracted your smaller, delicate hand. Watched as you clenched your own fists at your sides, and your eyes sparked with a sudden, defensive glint.

Out of sheer, desperate self-preservation, Jack forced himself to turn away from you, and back toward Lena, but his heart still thumped hard against his chest, threatening to burst right through it.

"Lena, can you check on the status of the labs for our patient in North 5?" He forced his tone back to his usual clipped, clinical manner. Forced his eyes to stay on Lena, no matter how badly they wanted to betray him and stare at you.

"Yeah Jack, sure. But I—"

He cut her off. He couldn't stand another minute in your presence. He needed to get away. Needed to think, settle his brain. Stop himself from spiralling and wallowing in his guilt and immediate interest in you. No. He needed out of this situation. Now.

"I don't have time for introductions tonight, Lena." He snapped. It wasn't on purpose, and he could barely conceal the wince of disgust at his own words. "Let me know when you get those labs back."

Jack snatched an iPad from the rack on the counter, and gripped it tightly in his hands, and his knuckles turned white from the pressure. He took a few steps away before his brain flashed with another terrifying thought.

You. In one of the trauma bays. Standing next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, assisting on a case. His gloved hand brushing yours as you handed him an instrument. The white-hot heat of fluorescents beaming down on you both as you worked, sweat beading on your forehead.

No. He couldn't. He needed to be focused. Couldn't have you there, distracting him with your face and your voice and that light vanilla smell that he knew would linger in his nose long after his shift ended.

He wouldn't survive an hour of it. Wouldn't survive five minutes of being that close to you. He had to keep you away from him.

"Oh, and let's keep the new hires away from any critical traumas for the first few days," he said, as he looked over his shoulder and winced inwardly at Lena's confused expression.

"We're already short-staffed. I can't have anyone slowing us down."

There. He'd done it. That should keep you away from him for now.

So, he left. Walked aimlessly toward the north cubicles, not registering a single thing on the iPad screen. The thought of coffee and a cigarette and a break was lost long ago in his head. He didn't look back. Couldn't bear to see the expression on your face. Confusion, and hurt and who knows what else. Disgust at his rudeness, probably.

But it was better this way. Right? It's better for you to hate him and stay away, than be close to him and get wrapped up in all of his shit.

He told himself this, over and over in his head for the remainder of his shift. He hid in empty patient rooms and behind charts at his computer whenever he saw or heard you. He watched from afar as Mateo flirted with you in triage, and he let out a deep, trembling sigh of relief when he saw you clock out in the morning.

He was standing at his locker later, bag already over his shoulder and a protein bar in his mouth when Shen cornered him again.

"Dude. Why were you so rude to the new nurse? Everyone's talking about it. Do you know her or something?" Shen asked, as he tossed his empty Dunkin' cup in the trash.

He walked over to his locker, opened it, and turned back to Jack with an expectant, judgemental look.

Jack froze. Great. The last thing he needed was for the entire department to be gossiping about his seemingly random hatred for you.

"I wasn't rude to her. I was just tired."

"Yeah, man. We all are. That was rude." Shen raised his eyebrows as he spoke, silently daring Jack to give him a real answer.

Jack couldn't tell the truth. Not about this.

"It's just been a rough day. I'll find her and apologize tomorrow." Jack knew he was lying. He absolutely would not apologize, because who knows what else he'd end up saying if he was that close to you?

"Can you hop off me now so I can go home and sleep?" He muttered under his breath. Shen heard and snorted.

"You better. We need her. We need all the help we can get."

He was right, and Jack knew it.

"I know." He managed to say softly through a bite of his protein bar.

"Good." Shen replied. "Now go home and shower, and sleep. You look like shit."

He sure as hell felt like it.

"Thanks for that, bud," Jack replied sarcastically. "Night, man."

After Shen had gone, Jack just stood still in the locker room for a while. His half-eaten protein bar still hanging loosely in one hand, and his thoughts drifted right back to you before he could stop them.

Fuck.

This job was about to get a whole lot harder.

TWO WEEKS AGO

The sudden quiet of the break room was suffocating.

Guilt, anger and mind-numbing desire sat heavy in his chest, weighing him down with each breath. His mind looped the image of you in his face, mere inches from him. Red hot fury and hatred prevalent in your eyes as you stared him down and hissed at him.

"Move Jack-ass. Now, or I swear to God, I will hit you."

Your words rang in his ears, and he hated himself for liking it. Hated the way his heart rate had picked up and his cock had twitched at the thought of you slapping him.

He had to forcibly remind himself that you didn't say it teasingly. You weren't flirting. You'd said it through gritted teeth, a genuine threat. Somehow, that made it even hotter, and Jack internally cursed his fucked up brain for it.

Jack stood still in the room for a minute, before his gaze drifted towards your empty thermos in the sink. Against his better judgement, he picked it up and ran his hands over it.

It was a sage green colour, the same colour as the undershirt you often wore under your scrubs. The same colour as your crocs, and your stethoscope too.

He loved that about you. Your insistence on cohesion and coordination, both in your job, and in your appearance. Your belongings. Everything was always cohesive, seemingly perfectly tailored. You never looked unkempt. Never looked as tired as you must have felt. Not even after a double shift or an MCI.

Jack ran his thumb over the mouthpiece of your thermos. Your lips had touched this. The thought flashed across his brain to bring it to his lips and see if he could taste you, or your lip balm.

Jesus. He was fucked up. Broken beyond repair. Who even thinks like that?

Apparently, he did. He'd thought that way when he'd swiped your lip balm from the place you left it a few months ago. He'd thought that way when he'd picked up your favourite green pen and pocketed it for himself when you left it at the nurses' station.

Jack had quite the little collection of your things now. Nothing big, nothing truly creepy. But it still made him sick to his stomach when he went home, opened his nightstand drawer, and your belongings spilled out. It made him feel dirty.

There was a green hair tie, your pen, a few lip balms, your green clover badge charm that had fallen off a few weeks ago. Worst of all, there was a cardboard coffee sleeve with your name written on, with a little heart scribbled next to it. Presumably, a barista had written your name on it for the order, but you had still touched it. It was still you. Your name.

Jack had fished it out of the recycling bin a few days ago when no one was looking, and stuffed it into his pockets. He'd felt horrible about it then, he still did now. But he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. Most of the time, the items stayed in his nightstand drawer. All but one. He kept your clover badge charm in his pocket every day.

These little things were his only physical connection to you, and he found himself reaching for that charm in his pocket during a bad shift for comfort. It grounded him, in some fucked up perverted way.

He sighed, and dropped your green thermos back into the sink. He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes as if to physically scrub the thoughts away, and turned on his heel out of the room. He couldn't stand to be in there anymore, surrounded by your scent - vanilla, with something spicy underneath it, and spearmint from your post cigarette mints.

He stormed quickly towards the ambulance bay doors, hand already in his pocket and reaching for his lighter when he heard it. You.

Your voice was fragile and meek. Exhaustion and defeat lacing the edges of your tone. He'd never heard you sound like this. It stopped him dead in his tracks, and he froze.

"I'm thinking about leaving. Is that what you wanted to hear, Vic?" You said sharply to Javadi, and Jack hardly contained the sharp inhale of shock that coursed over him.

Leaving? You couldn't leave. Why were you leaving him?

The heavy glass-panelled doors stayed shut, but the worn rubber seal allowed your voice to bleed through the gap in the frame. Jack stayed frozen still, waiting.

"Sorry," your voice rushed out, apologetically. "It's just- I can't work like this anymore. He makes it unbearable for me. I'm exhausted, and when I think about coming into work... I just- I can't do it anymore."

Jack couldn't breathe. What had he done? You were leaving. Because of him. Because he couldn't get his shit together enough to treat you right. Here he was, almost two decades into his career and on the wrong side of fifty, bullying a twenty four year old nurse into leaving just because he liked her? Loved her? Whatever.

He was behaving like a schoolboy with a crush. What was wrong with him? How could he have let it get this bad? How didn't he see what it was doing to you?

Javadi's sharp voice pulled him out of his spiralling thoughts. Something about how you leaving gave him power, and that's the last thing he needed. He shrunk into himself at the brutal honesty of her words, cringing at how real they were.

Jack's brain was going to explode from guilt and anger and self hatred and grief. He couldn't lose you. Didn't want to. Wouldn't. Especially not because of his own actions.

You spoke again, and Jack's hair stood on end at what he heard.

"Vic," you interjected, and Jack could hear the harsh reality settling in your words. Firm and unwavering.

You continued. "It's only getting worse. HR are eventually going to step in and fire one of us if we can't start working together. And when they do, it's not going to be him. I'm just a nurse, and he's... well, him."

You were right. Of course you were right. How did he not see this coming? How could he have been so blind? He'd been so wrapped up in his own bullshit and self loathing for the last two years, that he hadn't once considered what this could mean for you. For your career.

He needed to grow the fuck up and make this right. He was going to.

"He's such a fucking asshole." Javadi spat, pure unbridled anger sat heavy in her words, and it made Jack cringe. She was his R1 now, and even she knew better. "We have to do something."

"Vic, there's nothing to do." You replied softly. Any residual anger or frustration in your tone had fully dissipated now. "This is the solution, honey. I'll be fine. You'll be fine. We'll still hang out all the time. I'm not leaving today, I haven't talked spoke to Lena yet. I'm not going anywhere for now..." You paused for a second and inhaled sharply before continuing, and Jack hung onto your every word.

"I just think this is the best option. I don't want either of us to lose our jobs. I might hate him, but he's a damn good doctor, and he's a good attending to you all."

Jack's heart physically ached at your comment. He'd spent two years all but terrorising you because of his feelings for you, and you still, after all of it, defended his capabilities as a physician.

He felt sick to his stomach, and bile rose up in his throat. He swallowed it down, the acrid taste burning as it went down, and he took a deep breath.

He needed to fix this.

He had to fix this.

The rest of his shift dragged on and out second by second. Jack could barely concentrate on anything except you. Guilt and fear gnawed angrily at his insides the whole time, and his hands shook terribly for the rest of the night, and into the morning.

It got so bad that Shen had needed to take over during a crike, because Jack couldn't stop his hands from shaking. He'd told Jack to get some air, but he couldn't. It wouldn't help. He needed to speak to you, convince you to stay somehow. Only once he knew you were staying, would his heart rate slow down and his hands stop shaking.

He would get on his hands and knees and beg if that's what you wanted. You couldn't leave. It wasn't fair to you. He should be the one to leave if it had to be either of you.

He'd quit this job that he'd given so much to in a heartbeat if it meant you'd get to stay here and be happy. He'd do anything for you, no questions asked. It scared him to death.

As soon as 7am hit, and the night shift staff started slowly trickling out, Jack's eyes stuck to you like glue. He gave Robby the quickest handoff recap of all time, and headed straight to where he knew you'd be.

He knew your routine as well as his own now. You took two smoke breaks per shift if you had enough time. Never three, but always two if the schedule that day allowed for it. You always arrived at exactly 6:40am, rarely ever a minute late.

And, you went up to the roof after every single shift. You smoked a cigarette, and watched the cars and ambulances down below for 15 minutes, before commuting home in your little green sedan.

He knew that's where he'd find you.

Jack bypassed the locker room for now, and beelined towards the stairs that led to the roof. He jogged up the stairs, and his leg ached. But he ignored it. He just had to get to you. Everything else could wait.

He threw the door to the roof open, and the morning light hit him all at once. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw you.

You were standing at the edge, leaning over the railing to get a good view. You obviously hadn't heard him, because you didn't move an inch. Jack stood there for a moment, just taking you in. You were so beautiful it made his heart ache.

"You're going to catch a cold out here without your coat." He heard himself say.

You gasped and whipped around, clearly a little startled by his sudden outburst. He caught the way your posture straightened and your shoulders tensed when you saw it was him. His heart sank a little at the thought of you dreading his presence.

Your eyes darted to the door as if you were planning an escape route before you responded.

"Abbot, if you're here to lecture me on charting or something before I leave, I swear-"

'I'm sorry."

His words cut through the morning air, and you closed your mouth mid sentence. You just stood and blinked at him for a few moments, as if you were unsure that what you were hearing was real. A look of pure confusion settled on your face, and it was then that Jack realised he had never apologised to you before.

How could he have been so fucking dumb?

He took a deep breath and stepped towards you. He slid his hands into his scrub pockets, and reached for the badge charm. Your badge charm. Calm washed over him as soon as the cool plastic brushed against his fingertip, and he let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry. For tonight. For the last two years. For every single time I've been a dismissive, stubborn, arrogant bastard to you."

You didn't respond right away; just stared into his eyes for a moment. You were confused, suspicious probably. Of course you were, he hadn't even tried to have a normal conversation with you in two years, and now here he was. Apologising.

He didn't blame you for being so guarded.

"Is this a joke? Are you fucking with me, Abbot? Did Javadi put you up to this? I swear to God if Javadi-"

"No," he interrupted. "Javadi didn't say anything to me. But I heard you. Earlier. In the ambulance bay?"

Your face dropped visibly, and you frowned. You gnawed at your lip anxiously, and Jack never wanted to see that look on your face ever again. He vowed to himself then that he'd do everything in his power to make sure you only ever smiled at him from then on.

You inhaled sharply and searched his eyes for something, but Jack knew you wouldn't find anything in them. He'd worked hard and spent years perfecting his poker face, and if there was any time to use it, it was now.

"You weren't meant to hear that." You said quietly, and turned back around to face away from him. You leant over the railing, and Jack had had to forcibly drag his eyes away from the shape of your ass under your scrubs. Not the time, man.

He took a few more steps toward you, and joined you in staring down at the road below.

There was a beat of silence before Jack broke it.

"I'm glad I heard it," he said, as he turned his face toward yours. You didn't meet his gaze though; you just kept your eyes firmly planted on the horizon.

"The thought of you leaving this department, or this hospital because of my baggage and insecurities... It makes me sick. You're an incredible nurse. You're not slow at all, you're intuitive and empathetic and you care about your patients in a way that half the staff downstairs have forgotten how to."

The words had come rolling off of his tongue before he knew how to stop them, and he let himself give into it.

At least he could be honest about that part. You were a great nurse. The best on the floor even. He couldn't believe that he'd let himself convince you you weren't. Nausea fluttered in his stomach again, but he pushed it down and carried on.

"We need you down there. We need more people like you. If anyone should be leaving, it's me, not you."

You turned to face him then. Your chest was heaving, and your lips were red from where you'd been biting on them. He wanted to kiss them better.

"Okay," you said suddenly. "Then why?"

"Why what?" Jack replied. He'd been too busy thinking about your lips on his, and his brain hadn't caught up with your words yet.

"If I'm such a great nurse, then why have you done everything in your power to make me feel like I was the exact opposite for the past two years?" You stared at him expectantly, unblinking.

You were the first person that had ever made Jack feel so small. Not in a bad way, but you held this power over him that made him want to give into to you. Listen to you. Follow you wherever you went.

"Because I'm a cynical, stubborn old bastard who didn't know how to handle someone who wouldn't let me bulldoze them." Jack started. There was a little truth in his words. You did challenge him. Like no one else ever did. But it wasn't the full truth. He got the sense that you knew that too, based on the look you gave him.

"You challenged me from the second you started. Instead of handling that like an adult, I let my own shit get in the way and I built a wall. It wasn't fair to you. It was entirely unprofessional, and I'm sorry."

You stared at him for a long moment then, your eyes bore holes into his as you searched his expression for a hint of sarcasm or dishonesty.

When you didn't find it, your shoulders relaxed, and you let out a loud and clearly long awaited sigh of relief. Jack did too. You believed him.

"Thank you." You said, after a moment. You nodded slightly as you spoke. "For apologising, I mean. Not for terrorising me for two years." You smiled at that a little, and Jack's knees almost gave out on him.

God, that smile. It was his favourite thing in the world.

Jack winced a little at the memories of all the times he'd started arguments with you. Idiot.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away," he murmured, guilt still gnawing at him. "Two years of being a jackass is a lot to forgive. But I'm asking you stay, and give me another chance. Work with me. Let me prove to you that I can be someone you deserve to work alongside."

He'd tried his best to sound earnest and not as desperate as he felt inside. When you let out a small, breathy chuckle, Jack was sure he could physically feel every muscle in his body relax.

"Promise you're not gonna call me 'Flash' anymore?" You asked as you looked out over the horizon before turning to face him again.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He replied, firm with a little sarcasm lining the edges.

A small, genuine smile touched the corners of your mouth, and Jack's chest clenched at the sight. Your real smile. Directed at him. He was going to die if you kept smiling at him like that.

"Okay, Abbot," you said softly, as you turned and took a step toward the door. You brought your hand up to his bicep and squeezed it lightly, just for a few seconds.

"Let's try it. I'll see you tomorrow."

He watched you walk away, and didn't stop until you'd stepped through the door.

Jack's arm had tingled where you'd touched it for days after, and he replayed it in his mind over and over again.

Hopefully being your friend was going to be easier than being your enemy, otherwise, Jack was completely and utterly screwed.

TWO WEEKS LATER

"Okay, seriously, what the actual hell is happening?"

Shen dropped an iPad onto Ellis' desk, leaning toward her with his eyes basically bulging out of his head.

"Are we in an alternate universe? Did someone slip medical-grade hallucinogens into the coffee filter or something?" Shen continued.

Ellis didn't look up from her tablet, but her eyebrows twitched with mild amusement as she rolled her eyes.

"If you're having visual hallucinations again, Shen, go and find a dark room. I am not documenting your bad trip."

"I am not having a bad trip!" Shen hissed as he pointed a frantic finger toward Trauma Bay 2. "Look at them, Ellis. Look! I'm 100% convinced that Abbot has been replaced by an advanced cybernetic organism or something. It's the only explanation."

Ellis paused at that, halfway through typing on the iPad. She finally looked up and stared at Shen, eyes void of any amusement whatsoever.

"A what, Shen?"

"A robot, Ellis. A robot or a skin-walker or an alien," Shen insisted, and he nudged her arm and nodded toward Trauma 2.

Through the glass windows of the trauma bay, you and Jack were working on a high-velocity car crash patient. Together. But there was no yelling, no tension. Nothing. In fact, it was the opposite.

Jack held out his hand without looking, his eyes fixed on the patient, and you instantly handed him a clamp before he could even ask for it. You muttered something that neither Shen nor Ellis could hear, and Jack laughed. Like, actually laughed. A deep, booming belly laugh.

It sent chills down Shen's spine.

Garcia was in the room with you and Jack too, alongside Jesse and Cruz. All three of them paused for half a second when Jack laughed. They locked eyes with each other, and shrugged. Clearly very confused, and maybe a little concerned.

"Ellis. They've been like this for like... Two weeks now." Shen whispered, sounding genuinely terrified.

"They haven't fought once. It's genuinely starting to worry me. Do you think one of them is dying or something?"

Ellis couldn't control the cackle that escaped her mouth.

"You're so dramatic, Shen. Maybe they finally fucked it out. That's what I've had my bet on for the last year, and Ahmad charges interest for long standing bets, you know?"

"No, I'm not dramatic, and anyway, they definitely haven't slept together yet. I already asked Perlah and Princess." Shen took a long, loud sip out of his practically empty Dunkin' cup, and Ellis snatched it right out of his hand and threw it into the trash.

"Hey! I wasn't done!" Shen whined.

"Yeah well, I was." Ellis retorted, before looking back to the trauma bay where you and Jack now stood, chatting casually to Garcia as the stabilised patient was rolled out of the room.

"You know, last night, I swear to God, I heard her call him Jack and he didn't even flinch. Two weeks ago they were an inch away from a double homicide, and now they're like Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee. It's weird." Shen shuddered dramatically, and pulled out his phone. No doubt already ordering another iced coffee.

That got Ellis' attention. "Wait... She called him Jack? Not Jack-ass, or Abbot? Are you sure?" That was really weird. Everyone knew that you had never once called Jack by his first name. Ever. It had even become a running joke with the night shift staff.

"See! That's what I'm telling you. It's weird. She called him Jack and he actually smiled at her. Like, a real smile. It's unnatural, Ellis." Shen waved his hands dramatically in the air, and let out an exasperated sigh.

Ellis just nodded in agreement. "Well, whatever it is that got them all made up, I'm just happy I don't have to keep separating them during their fights."

Shen shrugged. "I guess..."

They stood there for a moment, just watching you and Jack through the glass doors. Garcia stepped out of the room a few seconds later, and walked straight up to Ellis and Shen.

"Oh my God. What is going on with those two? It's freaking me the fuck out!" She whispered as she walked by, eyes wide in faux horror and disgust.

"I know, right?" Shen and Ellis exclaimed at the same time.