The Hopeful Romantic

And wasn’t that the saddest thing in the whole wide world, she thought with a sigh so loud that Max didn’t make fun of her for being “dramatic.” Instead, he folded her in his arms, letting her cry it out until she felt better, if slightly embarrassed, at getting snot all over his new shirt.

That night, her parents sat her down on the living room couch and issued an edict that would define her relationship with pets. Meaning, she’d never have one.

And then, one day, she had twin girls of her own who desperately pleaded for a dog every chance they got.

They were as subtle as their father, thought Cassie.

Ethan Ramsey was direct—some said blunt—and still took things too literally at times.

He was a work-in-progress, but better now than when they first met all those years ago in a waiting room in Edenbrook Hospital; her a newly minted intern, him already a world-renowned diagnostician with a penchant for proving his point.

So, when Cassie showed him the slide deck Sophie and Eloise had prepared on why they should be allowed to adopt a dog, Ethan had taken one look and nodded sagely, “A well-supported thesis. And this feed-and-walk timetable is surprisingly efficient.”

“Not the point,” Cassie said in exasperation. “You know the rule, Ethan.”

“That was your parents’ rule,” he said, removing his eyeglasses to rub his eyes.

“Besides, you have me now. I’ll make sure it gets the—,” he paused, tilting his head to one side. “What did you call it the other day? Ah yes, the ‘patented Chief Ramsey experience.’” He curled his fingers into air quotes. “It’ll forget all about you.”

She rolled her eyes. “We actually want the dog to feel welcome, babe, not regret its life choices.”

“It can do both. Anyway, according to this very excellent presentation, it will be the girls’ dog. So, your parents’ edict still stands.”

“Fine!” Cassie threw up her hands in frustration. “But if the girls get their hearts broken when it runs away, I will take great pleasure in saying, ‘I told you so’.”

The black Cockapoo, who would come to be known as Watson, stared at the blue ball that had rolled near his hiding place and wondered what he was supposed to do with it. When no answer came, he nudged it away.

He really wanted to play with the other dogs in the park, but they liked to bark and he enjoyed long, deep thoughts. None of them lasted long, and he forgot them just as quickly, but it was the wonder of it all that stayed with him.

Watson had been at this place for a while now. And every little while, the humans with the kind eyes but sometimes impatient hands would take him and the others out to where other humans waited. Some screamed, others laughed, and still more ran everywhere.

There was fetching of balls or sticks, rolling and barking, and shaking of paws. And then they all came back inside for dinner and a good night’s sleep.

Some of his comrades never returned to the cold room with the tiny windows. But then more showed up the next day. And so it was for as long as he could remember.

This day, the sun was shining but not so bright that he wanted to close his eyes. Still, he lay down on his belly, resting his chin on his paws, watching everyone have fun. He wanted to just stay here and feel the breeze tickle his nose.

Two little girls bounced from one foot to the other, whispering in each other’s ears whenever he looked in their direction. They had dark hair and the same face. Curious, he thought.

He wasn’t sure why but he liked them. Maybe because they weren’t running around screaming like the others.

Watson’s ears perked as they walked toward him. He looked up from under his eyelids as they knelt before him, holding their hands out toward him, as if waiting for his permission.

He thought about it for a second and then blinked, nudging their hands with the top of his head. They smelled like sunshine and the yellow flowers that grew at the edge of the park. He woofed softly, enjoying how one of them scratched beneath his chin and giggled.

A tall man joined them, crouching beside them. The girls started talking excitedly while the man watched Watson with bright blue eyes, nodding and smiling when Watson moved close enough to be petted.

Now he wished he hadn’t gotten rid of the ball earlier.

Before he could find a way to convince them to play fetch with him, a woman with yellow hair appeared behind them, placing one hand on the man’s shoulder and the other on one of the girls.

She had the kindest eyes he’d ever seen in his life.

And then a big smile spread across her face, and he became wary. Oh no.

Watson had seen that smile before. It was usually followed by someone pulling on his ears or scooping him up and holding him tightly until he wriggled hard just to get free.

He inched back, ready to make his escape even as she kept her distance. She must have seen him because the smile disappeared and her eyes became sad.

Now, he worried that these humans—the first ones he’d liked in a long while—wouldn’t take him home after all.

The girls held up a ball, trying to get him to fetch. He barked, bouncing once, twice, and then the game was on.

As he ran back, dropping the ball at the girls’ feet and basking in their praise, he wondered where the woman was. He had thought she might be waiting until he was no longer paying attention to grab him.

But she just stood off to the side, leaning against the tall man, one arm wrapped around him. The man kissed her forehead.

She looked down, catching Watson staring at her. He waited, head cocked in anticipation of what she might do.

But she stayed where she was. That was…unexpected.

The two girls rushed in, and the woman opened her arms. They held her tight, angling their heads back to look up, smiling so widely that the woman laughed.

He would like to go home with them, thought Watson. But the woman didn’t want him after all.

Watson started to walk away, dragging his paws a bit in case they changed their minds.

They did.

As the tall man talked with the other humans who looked after him, and the woman still stood at a distance, the girls looped their arms around him.

“What should we call you?” they asked, watching him closely.

“I know,” one of the girls said. “Watson!”

Watson. He barked and wagged his tail to show he liked the name.

The woman with the yellow hair started laughing, the sound deep and bellyful, and Watson thought perhaps she liked him after all.

A short while later, he found himself sitting on the little girl’s lap, her hands holding him softly as he stared outside. The window was rolled down a bit so he could prop his chin on the edge.

The world outside was unfamiliar, and he barked at the other cars. That made the girls laugh.

Over the next few days, Watson settled into his new home. His bed was so soft that he often forgot what his life was like in the before.

The place also smelled different from his old home. It smelled…happy.

There were bright flowers in most rooms. And there was space for him to run outside at the back of the house. There was even a little house where he could take a nap.

The girls disappeared after their morning walk. They always came back in time for his next one, full of excitement and stories.

The woman with the yellow hair left too, though sometimes before the sun was fully awake. The tall man left even earlier.

But one of them always came back. And when they were both home, he would often hear laughter coming from behind the door of the room with the large bed.

There was another human, too. She talked to him as if he understood every word. She made the house smell like lemons, remembered to fill his water bowl, and scratched behind his ears before leaving.

As time passed, Watson kept waiting for the yellow-haired woman to pet him, hug him, call him a good boy. But she didn’t. He sometimes felt her gaze on him. Whenever he looked up, she turned away.

Sometimes she went into another room and stayed there for hours, sitting behind a desk, her feet tapping to the music, her eyes focused on a slim box in front of her.

The door was never fully closed, and he liked how the room smelled. The scent was never the same from one day to the next, but underneath it there was something familiar.

It reminded him of lying in the park, thinking his deep thoughts, feeling peaceful.

So, Watson started sneaking inside, cautiously at first in case the woman got angry. But she never did. He started by stretching out near the door, in case he had to run off quickly. Then, he moved a little closer, day by day, until he found his favorite spot was actually under the desk.

One day, he ran inside a little too fast, skidding on the floor before crashing against her legs. She froze, and Watson sighed, resting his face on his paws as he stretched out over her feet.

She was warm and soft, and he yawned. His eyes drifted shut, and he never felt the featherlight touch along his back a few minutes later.

As the days passed, Watson grew to love his new family even more. The tall man took him for walks when the girls couldn’t. He also gave him a treat after, often with a wink and a finger to his lips.

He liked evenings because everyone was home. Music playing in the kitchen, the girls and the woman laughing as they bounced on their feet, the tall man smiling at them.

Watson especially liked watching the woman hug the girls. Like when she walked through the door and they would rush into her arms. Or after one of them stood on one leg and spun around.

She never held them too tight, just long enough for them to get that bright look in their eyes.

One day, he decided he wanted to feel like that too. So, he started running toward the door whenever it opened and zooming around and around on the floor whenever the music came on.

The girls laughed and would pick him up to press their lips on top of his head. But the woman just smiled.

So, he started following her everywhere, whining and letting out a soft woof to get her attention.

One day, he jumped onto the couch where she lay stretched out, lost in whatever she was holding in her hand. He curled up across her legs and promptly took a nap while he dreamt that she was finally giving him a hug like she did the girls.

He awoke a while later, yawning loudly. His ears perked as she watched him in the same way she looked at the tall man and the girls.

Watson inched forward and nudged her arm. When she didn’t scratch behind his ears or rub his neck, he pushed against her hand, lifting it up with his head.

He let out a short, encouraging bark, his tongue lolling, panting in anticipation.

And then, finally, she moved. Holding his face between her hands, she leaned forward and gazed into his eyes, a soft smile on her lips.

And Watson did what all his comrades had done when they found their human back at the park. He swiped his tongue across her mouth.

She laughed, the way she had done when he first got his name, and then gently folded him into her arms.

Feeling warm and loved as her familiar smell filled his senses, he tucked his head against hers.

This was nice.

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Back then, she’d barely noticed as the machine hummed and buzzed and clanked around her. Now, as the machine slowly came online, every sound was magnified, adding to her unease.

Cassie shuddered from the cold and the nerves she couldn’t seem to shake.

She wondered anxiously what type of questions Dr. Ramsey would ask. Her low ranking in the fellowship competition and her handling of Mrs. Turner’s case last night didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

She could handle one or two things going wrong, but when everything piled on, she froze.

“Starting scan. Try not to move, Valentine,” Ethan’s voice boomed in the confined space.

Cassie exhaled slowly and forced herself to relax, mentally reviewing each of the five ballet positions until she felt the calm spread.

Here we go.

Ethan’s eyes shifted from the scan appearing on the screen to the smaller monitor beside it. Cassie had been fidgeting earlier—not surprising, as most people found the experience disorienting—but now she lay perfectly still inside the machine, her expression giving nothing away.

“Initial brain scan complete,” he said into the microphone. “We can begin.”

“How does it look?” she asked.

“Like an intern’s brain. In other words, nothing special.” He rolled his eyes, safe in the knowledge that she couldn’t see him.

“Gee, thanks,” she shot back sarcastically, making him grin.

“Focus, Valentine. Let’s try a softball question. What’s your fondest childhood memory?”

“Decorating the Christmas tree with my brother.” She smiled before continuing. “My mom said we could use whatever we wanted. It was the most ridiculous-looking thing, a hodgepodge of toy cars, action figures, and papier-mâché ornaments we had made in school. But it was ours, and we loved it.”

Cassie chuckled at the memory, and Ethan noted how her hippocampus lit up, the response spreading to her amygdala. It might have been a long time ago, but the memory was clearly still important to her.

“You wake up in prison. What did you do?”

“I shot a man in Reno.”

Ethan bit back a laugh at the quick response, delivered with relish.

“Be serious,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat.

“I am. He had it coming and only had himself to blame,” Cassie continued, steely-eyed. “If you’d have been there, if you’d have heard it, I bet you would have done the same.”

His eyes narrowed at the familiar words. Broadway musicals weren’t really his thing, but even he knew those lyrics.

“Are you reciting lyrics from a musical?” he demanded.

“Huh. I didn’t peg you for a musical fan.” She smiled mischievously. “After our frog rescue mission, I was positive you only listened to dead composers.”

Ethan ignored the implied insult. Really, she was too irreverent for an intern competing for a spot on his team.

“Moving on. I was surprised you didn’t ask me about your fellowship ranking when you chased me down earlier.”

“You wouldn’t have told me anyway,” she said, not even waiting a beat. “Besides, it’s irrelevant. I know I have to do better, so it’s not on you if I rank low.”

Ethan’s brows rose at her answer, and he wondered if she was telling the truth. He kept his eyes on the changing colors on the screen, tracking her neurological responses. A part of her believed it to be true, but it wasn’t the whole answer. She appeared conflicted.

He wanted to push further, but a glance at the clock had him reconsidering. They’d already been here too long, and he had an outpatient clinic starting in half an hour.

“Last one. Why did you want to become a doctor?”

“According to my brother, the role of Mother Teresa was taken.”

Ethan stared at the 3D map of her brain, but her wry response had him turning to the monitor. The corner of her lips twitched in a small smile before her expression became serious.

Her hypothalamus flared briefly, and he wondered at the reaction as she stayed silent.

“That’s it?” he probed, dissatisfied with the incomplete response.

“I’m thinking,” she replied, her words coming out slowly. “It’s a complicated question.”

“It’s really not, Rookie,” Ethan shot back.

“It was your research that inspired me to go into medicine.”

Scan forgotten, Ethan crossed his arms as he continued watching her on the monitor.

“I told you earlier to save the ass-kissing for someone it works on.”

“Oh, please.” She glared directly at the camera now.

“I’m not sucking up. I told you this last week at the baseball game, after I helped you win over those insurance execs. Which you never even thanked me for, by the way,” she said, disgruntled. “You really are the reason why I became a doctor. I want to help people the way you and the diagnostics team do. The people with nowhere else to go.”

Ethan turned his attention to the screen and saw several areas intensify as she repeated the team’s mission back to him, her tone signaling offense at not being taken seriously and passion for a cause that, until now, he believed only he and Naveen truly shared.

With his mentor gone, Ethan had lately begun to wonder how long he could keep Naveen’s legacy alive if there was no one else to pass it on to.

As much as he hated Harper forcing this fellowship competition on him, he could see the reasoning and the potential upside of finding someone who believed in the team’s purpose as much as he did.

Forgetting the time, he opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question, but the shrill sound of a pager interrupted his thoughts. Her white coat was draped over the back of the chair, and a green screen briefly lit up in the pocket.

“Is that mine or yours?” she asked.

He sighed. “Yours. We’re done anyway.”

A few minutes later, he pressed the button and watched her slowly slide out of the machine. An awkward silence passed between them as his blue eyes met hers, the green contemplative and shimmering under the fluorescent lights.

He looked away after helping her off the table, giving her privacy as she adjusted the flimsy hospital gown before pulling on her white coat and reaching for her clothes on the corner table.

“I’ll let you finish getting dressed.”

Ethan started to walk away, but the words left unsaid had him turning to watch her over his shoulder.

“Cassie, I…” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, and her wary expression had him second-guessing everything. In the end, he just shrugged.

“Thanks for your help, Valentine.” He smiled briefly but sincerely. “For today and last week.”

Cassie nodded, clutching the bundle of clothes against her. “You’re welcome, Dr. Ramsey.”

He stared at her for another moment, and then, because there was nothing more to say, he marched off, closing the door silently behind him.

Once outside, he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and reaching for the self-control he valued so much. Breathing slowly, he centered himself and took one step, then another, until he was far enough away from the fMRI suite to feel like himself again.

He had more important matters to concern himself with. Naveen had agreed to let Ethan run some tests. It had been a hard-won battle, and what came next required his complete focus.

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All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @jerzwriter @josiesopenheart @kyra75 @lady-calypso @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone

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