from my rival, to you
james ogilvie x reader wc. 3.9k warnings/tags - two medical scenes, one involving a cut, back and forth between ogilvie and reader, dana appearance, mention of bug bites, mean ogilvie(?), academic rivals, coworker rivals notes : this fic was inspired by this ask so thank you for requesting! it's always appreciated and i hope you have as much from reading this as i did writing it :)
you've known ogilvie since you were in the 9th grade. he was a new student at your high school school. you thought he was cute, his curly brown hair, his adorable, green eyes.
but then he opened his mouth.
and that was when you realized how knowledgeable someone could be on the subject of algebra.
you were both top students, participated in every club relating to healthcare or the student government you could think about.
sometimes you would be president and he'd be the vice-president, or vice versa. you were first chair, he was second. and it would flip every year until you two graduated. during your senior year, you both applied for the same prestigious college, UCLA. and you both got it in, much to the excitement of your high school faculty.
but to you and ogilvie, it was just another place for you two to prove yourselves. prove how much greater you two could be, and how much better you were than the other.
but through various professors and staff, you two were equally great. on paper that was, you had almost all of the same things put on your resumes and applications.
same clubs, same research projects, same gpa, same grades.
everything was the exact same.
and you while you were friendly to staff, your friends, and to fellow students. ogilvie was only nice to his 'friends' and other staff. so you had more of a reputation than him. he tried to be nice to others, but he could come off as condescending.
and when it came time for your undergraduate graduation, after a long process of you trying to convince your school that you were the right candidate for valedictorian. they said you deserved the opportunity.
but so did ogilvie.
'valedictorians james henry ogilvie' and your full name was right next to his on the powerpoint presentation your school had made.
your eye was twitching, and you didn't even notice until one of your friends pointed it out.
decked out in your undergraduate regalia, you stood near the stage and waited for your turn to speak. ogilvie was standing right next to you.
"did you remember your speech?" his eyes resembled ones of a snake, any- everytime he talked to you, it was as if he was hissing at you, calculating on when to attack.
"yes, i've memorized it in three different languages actually." you striked at him.
"i've memorized mine in five." he bit your neck, poisoning you.
or at least that's what it felt like.
you didn't care before, but you noticed how close he was standing next to you. he didn't need to be that close, the stage was big enough for him to be farther away.
yet he insisted on bumping arms and shoulders with you. if your hands weren't so tightly held together, holding your cards, you would have brushed your hands against his.
you weren't sure how you felt about that.
after your graduation, you two went out to eat with your shared group of premed friends.
sitting directly across from him, playing footises for whatever reason.
he was smiling and laughing along with the group, dropping a joke occasionally. but whenever he turned back to his food, right in front of you, he would go blank and kick your foot.
you weren’t sure how you felt about this either, you had feelings about this sure. ogilvie was a prick and your mortal enemy, ogilvie was something to defeat and conquer. he was your only roadblock to victory.
but seeing him look small, even though he wasn’t, and eat his food and enjoy it. it made you realize that he was also human, and kind of adorable.
you two didn’t speak much until ogilvie’s parents hosted a dinner at his house, inviting you all to bring your letters from the medical schools you applied to in order to celebrate acceptance.
the day you two found out you got into the same medical school, it was a happy day. for your parents, for friends, and your family. that you had accomplished something so big.
but you did it with ogilvie, and you didn't like that. and neither did he.
and after a grueling four years of medical school and clinical rotations, it came time for match day.
you and ogilvie have always talked about where you were applying to. whether it was for research projects, shadowing hours, clinical hours, clubs, or applying for schools.
it was just natural conversation between you two, as you often sat together in any class. and studied together, and were in the same clubs, same sports, same volunteer projects.
so when you asked ogilvie where he was going to be interviewing for his residency, you were surprised by his answer.
"i don't think that's any of your business." his sharp eyes narrowed at yours.
taken aback by his answer, you figured he really didn't have to tell you. matching into a residency was difficult, maybe he was tired of the competition he knew and wanted to deal with competition he didn't know.
you decided the same.
match day came, you dressed in your nicest causal formal wear. ogilvie did the same.
gathered in a spot with friends, family, and peers. you held that white envelope in your hands, eyes from your loved ones on you.
nothing mattered to you but that letter inside of the envelope, is what you told yourself. even if you kept sneaking glances to see ogilvie in a white button up and black tie. as if it didn't remind you of the time you first saw him in concert black back during your high school days.
you got rid of these thoughts by opening up the envelope, swiftly reading it. your friends and family circled around you, anticipation was coming from everyone in the room. you heard an eruption of screams, yells, cheers, and congratulations.
as you read your letter out loud, you heard the same cheers coming from your family and friends before you could process what you were reading.
you matched into emergency medicine, at pittsburgh trauma medical center.
your top choice.
you cheered along with your family as this rare and special moment occurred. and then you glanced over at ogilvie. his group was in the same eruption of smiles and cheers. you walked over to him, his eyes were on you from the moment you started moving.
"hey, where'd you match?" you asked him, anticipation took over your body.
"emergency medicine, ptmc." ogilvie shouted over the loudness in the room.
your face dropped when you heard him, and his face dropped as he realized.
he grabbed your wrist, snatching the letter out of your hand.
"did you know?" he confronted.
"james, how the hell was i supposed to know you interviewed there too, you didn't tell me." you called him out.
"i didn't think you'd match." ogilvie wasn’t upset anymore, he was shocked, surprised reading your letter. he was shocked at the low percentage of you matching into the same residency program.
"what a mean thing to say." you quieted down, giving off a playful demeanor as you were no longer upset.
"i meant i didn't think you'd match into the exact same place as me," he looked at the letter, eyes wide open, "i knew you were gonna match somewhere though so don't start that today."
you smiled at his compliment, but it soon faded as you remembered who it came from.
"so what now?" he asked you, a clueless look on his face.
"i guess that means we're coworkers." you sighed.
"i guess so." he nodded his head, looking away from your letter. an expressionless look on his face.
-
"good afternoon kid, how are ya?" dana asked you as you walked in.
"fine, good as always." you said, while looking up at the full board of patients waiting to be seen.
you sighed, still trying to mentally prepare yourself for another long day at work. it's been three months since you started working in the emergency department at ptmc, and you still weren't used to it.
but luckily, it was 12pm so you only had 7 more hours to go before you could attempt to relax at home. and if you were really lucky you’d be able to relax without ogilvie calling or texting you about some new medical study.
that remind you that you had another long day with ogilvie.
"good morning, 'kid'," ogilvie greeted, mocking you.
"hello, ogilvie." you greeted him, reluctantly.
sitting down at one of desks near the main area, you pulled out your id to scan into the computer. staring at all of your charts, two you didn't finish from yesterday.
"i actually caught up all of my charting, seems you haven't done the same." ogilvie hovered over you, his arms were around your chair, caging you in.
you looked back at him, having to stare up, "how about you mind your own business?"
"how about you be good on catching up with your work?" ogilvie bit back.
"how about you two start picking up some patients, it's already going to be a long day don't making it longer by bickering." dana scolded the two of you.
you sighed, signing out of the computer. you went to stand up but ogilvie was still pressing down on your chair, which forced you to sit back down.
"can you move?" you spoke to him, it sounded like a request but he knew you were demanding.
"anything for you." his green eyes were filled with condescension.. all you felt from his fake comment was your body tensing up, as if you were to fall over from being poisoned.
ogilvie moved out the way, allowing you to get up. you stared at the excel sheet the ptmc operated off of, wondering what patient to pick up first.
"you know you're not supposed to pick," ogilvie reminded you, his arms behind his back as he peered at the board alongside you.
you bumped his shoulder, "as if you don't pick your patients as well."
grabbing an ipad from the stand, you went to south 17, ogilvie trailing along.
opening up the big, glass door, to the white room, you saw a young girl and her mother. the daughter was on the white bed, her mother right beside her sitting on a chair someone must have gotten for her.
the room was bright, sterile. and it smelt like it too.
the girl was hooked up to an iv drip and had an oxygen tube, the mother was holding her daughter's hand. the sight made you feel bittersweet.
"hello," you introduced yourself as doctor, putting your last name after. "and this is doctor ogilvie, how are you feeling?" you asked the little girl.
"sick." she responded curtly.
"she's short of breath as well, she has asthma and it's been acting up lately." the mother rubbed her daughter's hand using her thumb, trying to soothe herself.
you nodded to what the mother said, "and may i ask your name?"
"i'm alana." the girl smiled at you, you smiled back. she was adorable, her hair was put into pigtails, she had a gap tooth and was missing two more on the top.
"and i'm carole gutow.."
"okay, do you mind if i examine your daughter along with doctor ogilvie, mrs. gutow?" you looked at her, asking for consent.
"no i do not mind." mrs. gutow shook her head.
"okay," you smiled at mrs. henderson before grabbing your stephoscope, plugging your ears up.
"can you take a few deep breaths for me please?" you asked alana, as you put your stethoscope to her chest. she nodded her head yes.
ogilvie watched from the foot of the bed. you didn't need him in here, you weren't sure why he was even there. as if he was trying to measure your skills, see you slip up. you were well-assured so it didn't bother you too much.
but it bothered you just enough to keep staring at him. and he was staring back at you, making eye contact every few seconds while you were trying to concentrate on listening to the little girl's breathing. or lack thereof.
"okay," you put your stethoscope back, "i do hear a shortness of breath, shallow breathing." you continued, "did she have an asthma attack mom?"
"yes, she did that's why i brought her in." she had a worried look on her face as she answer, practically on the verge of tears.
"i'm going to prescribe her albuterol, if she has a breathing machine at homei recommend using that once day and then repeat throughout the day when needed." you explained, the mother nodded her head along.
"are you active a lot at school?" ogilvie asked the girl, his face was one of curiosity.
"i run at recess with my friends, but sometimes i can't breathe." she answered, you smiled slightly at that due to how adorable she was.
you followed up, "i would make sure that she has access to her inhaler while at school, and does she have a spacer?"
"no, she doesn't have a spacer?" the mother looked confused.
"i would follow up with her primary care doctor to talk about getting her a spacer as it'll help her breathing more if she ever gets short of breath again." you smiled, hoping to reassure the mom.
she nodded along, her face was becoming comfortable. you could've sighed of relief.
"you'll be able to go home soon, but i want to monitor her for another hour or so to make sure she's ready to go back home."
"before that though, do you own any cats or dogs, any furry pets?" ogilvie asked mrs. henderson.
she shook her head no, "we got rid of our cat when alana started having back to back asthma attacks.
ogilvie nodded along to that.
"any follow up questions?" you asked him.
"no," he glanced at you, that same sharp look in eyes from graduation, "we'll be back in an hour." ogilvie smiled at the girl, his smile was a little too wide though and it caused her to lightly jump back.
it took almost everything in you not to laugh at that, mrs. gutow continued to rub her daughter's hand as you walked out of the room with ogilvie.
once you returned the ipad, you laughed into the holding station.
"oh my god what the hell was that," you asked ogilvie in a laughing fit.
"i was trying to comfort her not scare her." he dragged his hands down his face, regretting his decision.
you calmed down from your laughing fit, your smile still wide, "oh james you still have a lot to learn about people skills."
"yeah i guess i do.." he trailed off, turning his attention to the board and away from you. trying not to show his embarrassment.
"hey dana, south 17 should be ready to go in about an hour or two." you informed her.
"that's good to know." she smiled at you, a proud look in her eyes, before she returned to her work.
"leg laceration in north 3, wanna check it out with me?" ogilvie asked you, you saw a glint of vulnerability in his eyes.
"yeah.. yeah sounds fun." you were taken aback by him asking for you to come along with you.
you missed it, and ogilvie missed it too but dana gave you two a knowing glance. a smirk on her face as she watched you two walk away into another room.
ogilvie pushed open the door this time, the door to the blank, colorless room.
on the white bed laid a 30-something year old man, bald head, an athletic shirt and shorts on, holding his leg.
"hello sir, i am doctor ogilvie," he introduced himself and then introduced you after.
"what is your name and what brings you in today?" ogilvie asked the man.
"what do you think brings me into today, i cut my leg fucking around in the kitchen." the man barked at ogilvie, you were caught off guard by his aggression but still tried not to laugh when you realized who it was directed to.
you looked at his leg, noticing the red on his calf.
a cut so clean and straight, you were convinced he could've been a surgeon.
"are you chef?" you asked him.
"no, that's how i cut myself." he simmered down when talking to you, a respectful man.
"it's a very impressive cut.." ogilvie trailed off as he examined his leg. "i'm gonna go grab a suture kit."
"we should be able to sew this up, we'll clean it, sew it, and then you'll be able to go home." you smiled at the guy, reassuring him,.
"yeah thanks." he responded roughly, but he was nicer- softer with you than he was with ogilvie.
ogilvie returned with the suture kit, pulling up a metal table on wheels that would hold all of the tools you two would need in order to sew this guy's leg up.
"okay," ogilvie said your name, and you looked at him, "what kind of angle are we going to sew this laceration from?"
you looked like him as if he asked you the dumbest thing in the world. and he looked at you, expectant, a look of mockery on his face.
"a 45-degree angle should work."
"would you like to demonstrate?" he offered, a shitty smile on his face and two silver tools in each of his hands, outstretched towards you.
you glared at ogilvie before sitting down, grabbing the tools from his hand.
the patient looked up from his phone, he didn’t say anything. just observed the two of you.
as you started to sew up his leg, ogilvie put his hands over yours, it felt like his hands were gloves.
"you're a little sloppy with your placements." he critiqued.
"are you serious." you looked back at him, the warmth radiating from his hands were starting to make you feel hot.
"i am, just move your fingers along with mine." ogilvie spoke softly, you could feel his breath on the back of your neck, making your hairs raise.
as ogilvie continued to guide you through suturing the patient's leg, the help you did not need nor ask for. the guy continued to eye you two.
"is this like allowed?" the patient asked, his rude demeanour was gone.
"what do you mean?" you asked back, genuinely curious on what he was asking about.
"are couples allowed to work together like this?"
you and ogilvie both shot up, looking at the guy with wide eyes. your mouth slightly open in shock at what the patient said, ogilvie quickly removed his hands from yours.
"we are not a couple, we're not dating." ogilvie quickly said, "i was just instructing her."
"yeah, sure you were pal." the guy nodded his head sarcastically, rolling his eyes before returning back to his phone.
"do you want to finish up here?" you peered over at ogilvie, seeing his brown curly hair.
"i'm actually just gonna go pick up another patient, i'll see you later." ogilvie swiftly nodded his head before heading out of the room.
you rolled your eyes at having to finish up his patient. it was clear he didn't want to be left alone in a room with this guy in fear of being teased.
but as you finished up the guy's stitches, you two managed to make good conversation. about why he is was cooking, or at least trying to learn, and the store he got the knives from.
"and don't forget to come back in a week so we can check up on the stitches." you gave the guy aftercare instructions, and hoped that he followed them. “good luck on your culinary journey though,” you smiled at the man.
“yeah, and good luck with that tall doofus.” the patient snorted. you didn’t pay that comment any mind, as if you would ever get with ogilvie.
as he walked out of the room, you held the door open for him and went back to the main area. staring at the excel sheet that seemed to had gotten messier from the last time you looked at it.
you looked around for a short while, you spotted ogilvie talking to another patient. a patient with bug bites all over her.
you cringed a little seeing that, directing your attention away from her and back to the board.
but before you knew it, something tapped your shoulder.
"hey there." ogilvie face was in front of you, he had a blank expression. he was thinking, you knew it.
"hey." you responded back, giving him a tight-lipped smile. like the ones white dads who golf give each other whenever they want to be sympathetic towards one another. "what's going on with the case of bad stripes over there?"
"camping trip gone wrong, she's gonna need a lot of antibiotics and hope." ogilvie said in disbelief, staring up at the board after he was done.
you took your phone out of your pocket, looking at the time.
"it's 6pm already?" ogilvie was over your shoulder, looking at your phone as well.
"could you not?"
"sorry." he apologized, but the disingenuous look on his face told you he wasn't really sorry.
you rolled eyes, and then went back to looking at the board. none of the cases up there looked interesting, but they didn't have to be. all you needed to do was see as many patients as possible before you went home so there was no one on your ass about 'not doing enough'.
eventually, after seeing three more patients in your last hour. you grabbed your bag, and headed towards the parking structure.
"you look like shit." ogilvie insulted, walking to stand right in front of you.
your arm brushes his, "i think you might be looking in a mirror."
your hair was slightly disheveled compared to this morning, and so was his. both of you had your bags, water bottles,
and the thought in your minds of 'can i really withstand this for another day?'.
your feet were exhausted, your legs felt as if they were going to give out. and your head was pounding. you were sure ogilvie felt the same.
"you wanna come back to my place? go over some flashcards or something?" ogilvie suggested as he attempted to gesture to his car, but he was so tired you couldn't really make out what he was motioning to.
"after a long, 15-hour shift. why in the hell would i want to spend time with my nemesis." you spoke, your head slightly tilted back, wishing it had something to lean on.
"i dunno, so you can beat me? maybe i can teach you something useful." he was nervous, you could tell. you weren't sure why he was nervous though, and your brain was too close to shutting down to care.
"i already have beat you."
"how?"
you took a few steps towards ogilvie, and kissed his cheek.
"i'll see you tomorrow?" you asked, rhetorically. you had started walking to your car but paused when you didn't hear a response. “and don’t call me tonight, i’d like some peace.”
you turned around to a red-faced ogilvie.
you smiled tiredly and waved him a goodbye, and he waved back. clearly awestruck.
