I felt everything at once, and then nothing at all

Baran could not stop thinking about you.

Ever since you’d showed up in the ED a couple weeks up, stitching up your own face, Baran found her thoughts constantly drifting to you. Your casual, flirtatious nature paired with competence and the obvious respect you garnered intrigued her. The more Baran thought about you, the more you became like a puzzle she was determined to solve.

When she had brought you up to Dana, the charge nurse simply waived her off. Thinking Baran had had a problem with your flirting, Dana told her, “Don’t worry about her. She’s a lover girl stuck on a surgeon’s schedule.”

Baran had asked a couple other people what they knew about you—subtly, of course—and the message was generally the same: you were a flirt, but a damn good doctor. She only wished you stopped by the ED more often so she could decide for herself.

As if you had heard her thoughts, your voice rang out, coming from the ambulance bay. “What’s open? I need a room prepped for a trach!”

“Trauma 2!” Someone yelled back, but Baran was focused on you, your crazed eyes and the way your entire front was splattered with blood.

Rushing over to walk alongside the moving gurney, already snapping on a pair of gloves, Baran called over McKay to assist.

“What do we have?” she asked as you entered the trauma room.

“Oxy overdose. Emesis and aspiration blocked the airway, so I went emergency circ,” you explained, barely giving her a second glance before turning to the paramedics. “On my count.”

As you transferred the man onto the trauma table, you started giving out orders, so naturally, Baran would have thought you were the trauma attending on call, not her.

“Somebody get Garcia in here,” you barked out to anybody who was listening as you readied yourself for a tracheostomy, putting on a gown, glasses, and gloves.

“Dr. Al-Hashimi.” Your urgent voice brought her out of her momentary shock from your commanding presence. “Lend a hand?”

As if like a switch, your tone changed from stern to flirtatious, and she wondered if this was how you always were. She ignored the slight coil in her stomach at the sight of the smirk pulling on your lips and stepped up to the table.

“So, you come here often?” Baran asked, trying to match your teasing tone, as she watched you carefully remove the emergency tube.

You laughed, looking up at briefly and wiggling your eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would actually,” Baran responded very matter-of-factly as she raised a challenging brow, her mouth forming a smirk of her own.

McKay snickered, causing you to glare at her.

“You ever do an emergency cric, Cass?” You put your friend on the spot, causing her to shake her head. “I’ll teach you,” you said slyly before looking back at Baran and winking. “You gotta be able to handle anything when you’re on street team.”

Baran’s eyes narrowed at this new piece of information about you. She’d thought learning more about you would help clear things up for her, but if anything, this only further confused her. Why would a plastic surgeon spend her off-time doing street team?

“Wow, you look like shit,” Garcia snarked, as she pushed open the door, hands already gloved and ready.

“All for you, Yoyo,” you replied smoothly with a flash of your signature smirk, earning an eye roll from the other surgeon.

Baran did her best to ignore the twisting feeling in her stomach as she watched the exchange between you two. You really were like this with everyone. Maybe your reputation did precede you.

“What’d I miss?” Yolanda walked over to stand by the patient’s head.

“Emergency cric conversion to trach,” you explained before asking Princess for a ten blade.

“First a slach trach and now this?” Garcia shook her head, clearly annoyed.

You looked up, your curiosity piqued. “Slash trach? Someone did a slash trach?”

Instead of responding, Yolanda transferred her stare from you to Al-Hashimi, causing you to do the same.

“You did a slash trach?”

Baran’s expression instinctively became defensive, which told you all you needed to know, and you let out a low whistle.

“Impressive.”

The warm hum of your voice caused Baran’s cheeks to warm, and she mentally chided herself. She was a middle-aged divorcée with a son, and here she was acting like a middle schooler with a crush.

“Dr. Mckay?” Your switched back into surgeon-in-charge mode as you addressed the resident. “Would you like to do the honors? I’ll talk you through it.”

“You never stop, do you,” Cassie quipped under her breath, picking up on your teasing suggestiveness that seemed never quite absent from anything you said.

You handed her the tube and moved to stand next to Yolanda.

“I’ve already created the window at the third and fourth tracheal rings,” you told McKay. “Now what?”

Cassie looked up at Baran, her attending, who nodded, giving the go-ahead.

“Insert the tube from a lateral position and twist in,” Cassie answered. You raised your eyebrow, prompting her to continue. “Once in position, inflate the cuff and insert the inner tube.”

“Good.”

As you observed the resident insert the tube, Yolanda leaned towards you, muttering in your ear, “I thought you hated the ED.”

“Street team,” you answered her unspoken question. Yolanda gave you a once over, and finally noticed you weren’t dressed in your usual scrubs.

“Missing your MSF days?”

This caught Baran’s attention, and she looked up from the patient and over to you. “You were with Médecins Sans Frontières?”

Everything she learned about you just continued to confuse her even more. Why would a plastic surgeon do a stint with MSF?

Tilting your head slightly, you met her gaze with a soft smile. “I spent some time with them in Yemen,” you replied curtly.

Baran could tell this wasn’t a topic you enjoyed discussing, and based on what she knew about the hospital airstrikes in Yemen, she could understand why.

“Tube’s in place, cuff’s inflated, and airway is sealed,” Cassie declared, bringing you back to the moment.

“Good work, Dr. McKay.” You nodded shortly, your words tired.

Yolanda noticed your shift in demeanor, and she could tell you were crashing. There was a reason you chose plastics over trauma.

“I got it from here.” She squeezed your elbow lightly as she motioned for transfer. “Go clean yourself off, Carrie.”

You took a deep breath and ripped off the gown. Following Yolanda as she escorted the patient out of the trauma room, you peeled off the latex gloves and threw them in the trash. Your hands were still caked in blood from your emergency procedure earlier, and you realized they were starting to shake.

Catching your faint reflection in the glass of the trauma bay, you saw your face was splattered with the man’s blood and your shirt was completely stained. As your mind caught up with what just transpired, you felt your anxiety start to crawl in your gut.

You rushed over to the nurses’ station and found the nearest trashcan before emptying your insides. The sight of your bloodied hands gripping the rim of the bin made you even more nauseous. Shakily, you pushed yourself off the ground and tried to ignore the stares, some of worry and some of disgust.

“I’m fine,” you announced to no one in particular, but you could see Dana’s motherly concern watching you, and you could feel a certain pair of brown eyes following you.

“I’m fine,” you repeated to yourself. Weaving through the ED, you were in a daze, your only focus being on getting this blood off of you, and didn’t hear Cassie calling your name.

Before the resident could chase after you, someone calling her name pulled her in a different direction. “Dr. McKay–” Perlah approached the station with a tablet in her hand– “x-rays are back on your CP patient in thirteen, and the mom is asking for you.”

Cassie sighed and took the tablet, sparing a glance back in the direction of where you had retreated, an imperceptible action that Baran had noticed.

“I’ll go check on her.” The attending gave the other woman a small, reassuring smile.

“Thanks.” Cassie nodded as she walked away.

When Baran pushed open the bathroom door, the last thing she expected to see was you without your shirt on using the article of clothing as a cleaning rag, but alas there you were. For a moment, she could only stare, letting her eyes linger on the way your back muscles flexed with each movement and on the few patches of scar tissue that contrasted against your smooth skin. Baran couldn’t help but wonder what your skin would feel like under her fingertips.

“You know, if you wanted to see me naked you could’ve just asked,” you joked weakly as you met her stare in the mirror.

“You’re not naked,” Baran deadpanned, causing you to smirk lazily.

“Maybe next time then.”

Taking a couple steps forward, Baran leaned against the sink next to you, the cool tile digging into the small of her back. She didn’t say anything, though, simply observing you.

“What?” you chuckled nervously, suddenly feeling very exposed under her watchful eyes.

Noticing the goosebumps that started to decorate your skin, Baran tilted her head. She had only met you once before today, but she couldn’t imagine you were one to shrink easily. Yet, she had to admit she liked seeing you squirm.

Deciding to put you out of your misery, she finally asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you answered reflexively. Both of you knew that was a lie, but neither of you said anything. “I just need to get cleaned off. I’m actually need upstairs in—” glancing down at your watch, you sighed and ran your hands over your face– “ten minutes ago.”

“You sure you want to work after that?” Baran frowned, and you smiled softly at her concern.

“I just have a cleft palate and a free flap reconstruction on my plate today. Then on-call for the evening,” you said flippantly, causing the other woman to scoff.

“You say that as if both those operations aren’t multiple hours long.”

“I’ve had worse.” You shrugged, and after all that Baran had learned about you in the last hour, she believed you.

“Uh—” you held up your blood-soaked t-shirt awkwardly— “thanks for, um, checking up on me.”

Baran didn’t need to know you well to see how uncharacteristic your stuttering was, and she bit back a grin. As you moved towards the door, she realized you were still clad in only your sports bra.

“Wait.” Her voice echoed lightly against the empty stalls as she slipped off her jacket.

“Woah,” you laughed, turning on your heels. “At least buy me a drink first.”

Baran merely rolled her eyes. You were relentless.

“As much as I’m sure many people would appreciate the view, I’m not sure HR would want you walking around the hospital without a shirt.” She held out the jacket, which you accepted with a raised brow.

“Are you included in these ‘many people’?” You lowered your voice as you put on the jacket, zipping it up in one motion.

Ducking to hide the tint on her cheeks, Baran shook her head. “You wish,” she muttered.

You let out a noncommittal sound before tugging at the sleeves of the jacket.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice returning to a gentler tone.

“You’re welcome.” Baran saw her opportunity and pushed herself off the sink. “Though, I think you looked better without it.”

Your eyes widened, visibly taken-aback by her forwardness. With a satisfied smile, Baran slid past you and exited the bathroom, leaving you to swallow a taste of your own medicine.

The sound of the door closing behind her shook you out of your momentary stupor. Taking a deep breath, you were immediately enveloped by the smell of the faint perfume that clung to Baran’s jacket.

There was something about the scent that exuded a quiet boldness, a scent so undeniably her, and you couldn’t get enough.

MISS MAPLE’S LADLE. a cozy restaurant with traditional wizarding stews, pies, and baked dishes prepared from old family recipes. it’s warm and wood-paneled, with long communal tables and softly glowing lanterns. it’s tended to by Miss Maple herself, a lovely woman who somehow cooks and manages the dining room. it’s especially popular with families and visiting witches and wizards who want a proper meal between their errands

BRAMBLE & FLINT, MAGICAL BOOKBINDERS. a narrow shop with tall windows and shelves stacked floor to ceiling with leather-bound volumes. they specialize in rebinding damaged spellbooks, reinforcing grimoires against magic, and crafting custom bindings that resist fire, moisture, or hostile spells—Hogwarts professors and serious scholars are frequent patrons here

SILVERSTEP STUDIO. a dance studio offering lessons in traditional wizarding dances, formal ball etiquette, and folk dances from across magical Europe. the studio’s mirrored walls subtly correct posture and footwork, making it a great place to attend before major social events where you’ll be expected to dance

LARKSPUR APOTHECARY. dimly lit and heavy with the scent of dried herbs, they focus on rare potion ingredients. glass jars line the walls, each carefully labeled in neat script. apprentice potion-makers often linger here, consulting the potions master proprietor about substitutions and ingredient compatibility

ROSENBRINE OYSTER HOUSE. an upscale dining establishment serving the most delectable seafood sourced from enchanted waters. the décor is understated and elegant, with pale stone walls and aquamarine accents—it’s the Diagon Alley destination for formal dinners

STARLACE PARLOR. a shop offering temporary magical adornments such as shimmering hair threads, glowing nail tints, and decorative charms meant for special occasions. the catch is, none of the effects last more than a day (can you say Cinderella?) the parlor is especially popular before holidays, weddings, and birthdays

THE SAPID SODA COUNTER. a tiny booth on the side of the street (that moves throughout the day) serving house-made sodas and flavored tonics poured over enchanted ice that never melts. the booth is lined with high stools and polished brass taps, so people can have a seat and a refreshment during their errands

STARLING & SON WIZARDING STATIONERS. this shop sells parchment, ink, and writing instruments designed for long-term spellwork and academic use. some specialty inks respond to their user’s magic, while certain parchments are treated to prevent spell bleed-through. a favorite of students with a little extra money to spend on school supplies

KETTLEWHISTLERS’. a teeny-tiny tea house offering a wide selection of herbal and magical teas. the kettles along the back wall softly whistle at different pitches depending on the mood of the room. it often attracts academics, healers, and students seeking a quiet place to read or converse

THE CROOKED HOUR. a small, oddly shaped shop selling magical timekeeping devices—clocks, watches, and hourglasses that track measures such as potion brew time, lunar cycles, and personal magical exhaustion. the ticking inside is constant, but never quite synchronized

SIR PAUL’S THEATRE & PERFORMANCE HALL. a small performance hall that hosts illusionists, storytelling evenings, and magical theatrical acts. the performances are wrought with drama and craftsmanship—seats are limited, and shows often sell out quickly

FENWICK’S FAMILIAR SUPPLIES. this warm, orderly shop is devoted to the care and comfort of magical companions. it sells bedding, grooming tools, specialized feed, and enchantments meant to calm or protect familiars. the back room contains a consultation space for witches and wizards concerned about unusual familiar behavior, or with questions about their exotic pet

THE HEARTHSTONE GAMES ROOM. offering wizarding board games, strategy games, and card games played at heavy wooden tables (with necessary enchantments that prevent cheating and card-counting) groups of wizards will often reserve tables for hours at a time to play games here

HOLLOWAY’S HOUSE OF MAPS. this narrow storefront offers enchanted maps of wizarding Britain and beyond, including shifting alleyways, restricted areas, and historically significant sites. some maps update themselves as locations change, while others are fixed to a specific moment in time. curse-breakers and travelers are common customers here

CINDER & CREAM. an ice cream and dessert shop known for its magically chilled display cases and slow-churned flavors. the shop’s pale stone interior stays cool year-round, making it a favorite stop during crowded summer days

THE GILDED MORTAR. an upscale potion supply shop specializing in pre-measured kits for complex brews. each kit includes precisely prepared ingredients and detailed instructions, reducing the margin for error. while expensive, the shop is popular among healers and private potions tutors (and anyone who’s a total chump at potions)

WHISPERWIND QUILLS. a refined shop selling enchanted hand-crafted quills for specific writing tasks—note-taking, spell notation, correspondence, things like that. some write on their own, and many adjust their ink flow or angle to suit the writer. the ambience is calm, with soft chimes whenever the door opens

THE VELVETINE RABBIT. a small tea-room tucked between larger shops, known for its quiet atmosphere and discreet booths. it serves traditional wizarding teas and light pastries, many infused with mild calming or restorative properties. students, Ministry clerks, and solitary witches or wizards often use it as a mellow resting place between errands

TALBOT’S PROTECTIVE CHARMS. offering personal protection charms, ward stones, and household enchantments—everything sold here is strictly regulated and defensive in nature. the shop is orderly and professional, with demonstrations conducted behind reinforced glass, and very strict cashiers with no patience for jokes

MOONFALL MUSIC EMPORIUM. a shop selling enchanted instruments and sheet music that responds to magical ability and musical talent. some instruments play themselves, but most simply enhance the player’s talent and control. Hogwarts music clubs and private tutors often recommend the shop to students

ELDERROOT CURIOS. an odd shop that specializes in historical magical objects—old spell tokens, ritual tools, and ceremonial items no longer in common use. nothing here is dangerous, but much of it carries lingering magic that’s… strange

THE GALLEON GRILL. this bustling eatery serves grilled meats, vegetables, and flatbreads cooked over open flames. orders are placed at a long stone counter, and food is served quickly on plates enchanted to stay warm, making it favored by witches and wizards who are in a rush

THE LIMBAL THIMBLE. a quiet tailoring shop that produces enchanted garments meant for daily wear (rather than formal robes or garb for spectacle.) robes here are woven with charms for warmth, durability, or stain resistance, and fittings are conducted with precise measuring spells. older witches and wizards are often seen frequenting this shop—and really anyone who values practicality above all else