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For those of us who wanted to live in this moment a litttttttle more… I remixed and extended it 😅
“Hula hoop—central fourteen!”
The call snapped through the department. Chairs scraped. Feet pounded. Someone echoed it louder.
Robby was already running.
“Move, move, move!”
He hit the doorway just as Dana pulled a syringe from the patient’s thigh.
The man was sitting up against the wall, a crowd of staff surrounding him as he fought against them.
“What the hell happened?”
“He attacked Emma.”
Perlah stood with Emma against the opposite wall, her hand hovering over her throat. One of her braids had come loose and redness bloomed unevenly across her neck. She kept one arm tucked tight to her chest, blood smeared across the back of her hand.
He strode over.
“Are you alright?” he asked, scanning the red ring rising over her throat.
Emma nodded.
He looked back at the patient who was now fighting on the bed as three more bodies drove him flat. Blood dripped down his face.
“How did he get a bloody nose?”
“I hit him.” Emma’s voice came out whisper-thin, just loud enough to carry over the chaos.
He turned.
Emma’s gaze had gone distant, her breath shallow and fast. Her knees were already soft.
“I can’t see,” she breathed.
“Oh shit—” Robby reached for her just as she started to drop, catching her by the shoulders as she went limp, her head falling against his collarbone. Perlah grabbed her by the arm.
“Get a gurney!”
He adjusted his grip as Dana and Perlah took on some of her weight.
“Watch her head,” he directed as they laid her flat on the floor.
He pressed his fingers to her carotid.
Slow. Weak.
Then quicker. Stronger.
McKay, Princess, and Kim closed in around them, dropping to their knees.
“She vagaled,” Robby said. “Heart rate’s coming back up.” He secured her head between his hands. “Get a collar.”
“Right here.” Kim slid the brace under Robby’s hands and pulled the Velcro shut.
“Emma?” Robby called.
She stayed motionless.
A gurney appeared next to them.
“Nice and easy,” Robby said as the team took hold of her. “One, two—”
As soon as she landed on the sheets, the bed was moving, Robby’s hands never leaving her head.
“I want the airway cart ready,” he said.
Emma’s eyes dragged open. A deep breath racked her chest and she jolted, arms flying to the bed rails.
“Easy—”
She reached up, instinctively clawing at the hands pinning her head in place.
“Emma—” Robby held steady with a slight wince as her nails dug into his wrist. “You’re alright.”
Dana pulled Emma’s hand away, holding it in her own. “Emma, it’s okay, honey.”
Her eyes darted between them. The fight fizzled out of her, her body stilling.
They burst into the trauma bay and screeched to a halt. The team moved around the bed in familiar choreography—Kim wrapping a pressure cuff around her arm, Perlah sticking leads to her chest, blocks sliding in to replace Robby’s hands.
He grabbed his penlight, checking each of her pupils. Small red specks dotted the whites of her eyes.
“Can you tell me where you are?” Robby asked.
“PTMC.”
“Good. Any trouble breathing?”
“No, I—” She cut herself off with a sharp cry, her right hand flying to her chest, her left coming up to guard it.
“Sorry.” Kim froze mid-motion, the pulse ox still in her grip. “Right hand’s tender.”
Emma’s knuckles were bruised, her wrist already swelling.
“Looks like you got a hell of a swing, kid,” McKay said, scanning it carefully. “Boxer’s fracture?”
“We’ll get imaging,” Robby said.
“I’m sorry,” Emma whispered, her voice wrecked. “I punched him and he—he still didn’t let go and I couldn’t breathe—”
“You did exactly the right thing,” Dana said. “You kicked ass.”
Robby unlaced his stethoscope. “Deep breaths.”
She did her best, eyes pressed shut as she swallowed.
“Is it hard to swallow?” he asked.
“No, it just… it feels weird,” she replied.
Perlah silently nudged the airway cart closer.
Robby carefully palpated the bruise spreading around Emma’s throat. She let out a small whimper, tensing under his touch.
“No crepitus,” he said, withdrawing his hand. “CTA head and neck. Wrist films. CBC, BMP, VBG, coags. Two lines. Keep her on the monitor. Ten of dexamethasone IV, twenty-five of fentanyl IV push. Splint the wrist.”
“I’m really fine, I swear—is he okay?”
“Don’t worry about that asshole,” Dana said. “Let’s get you taken care of.”
McKay nodded at Robby’s wrist. “You need help cleaning that up?”
Angry red scrapes slashed the back of his hand and up his wrist, blood trickling from one of them. He turned it over, taking a quick look.
“No, I got it,” he said easily.
Horror spread over Emma’s face. “Did I do that?!” she gasped. “Oh my god, I—I’m sorry—I didn’t—”
“It’s okay—”
“I’m so sorry!” she croaked, tears filling her eyes. “Oh god. I injured an attending and a patient on my first day!”
“Emma, honey—” Dana tried.
“They—they should take my license! I shouldn’t even—”
Dana grasped her shoulder. “Emma.”
She quieted, finally meeting Dana’s eyes.
“That patient tried to kill you,” Dana said, voice low. “You survived.”
Emma just stared.
“You did everything right. You hear me?”
She nodded against the collar, her eyes flicking to the blood trailing down Robby’s arm.
“And don’t worry about Robby.” Dana winked. “He needs to be knocked down a peg every once in a while.”
“Yep,” Robby agreed. “I was due for my weekly humbling.”
McKay leaned in for a closer look at his wound, clearly admiring Emma’s handiwork. “I like this one,” she said with a smirk. “She’s feisty.”
“Oh, she’s going to fit in just fine,” Robby said, flicking off his gloves.
Emma’s chest warmed and a weak smile found its way to her lips.
thinking about sitting on jack abbot’s thigh, lazily rolling your hips and leaning into his chest, just enough for stimulation but not enough to actually get anywhere.
jack’s wearing his dumb cargo pants, his work phone shoved in the pocket you’re currently sitting on. you learn rather quickly that jack (the old man he is) has his phone set to vibrate. you also learn that someone is very intent on getting a hold of him.
jack realizes his phone is trapped under you, undulating and grinding into the new sensation. grins when he discovers, yes, you are wanton enough to treat his vibrating phone like a pseudo sex toy, grinding harder every time a call or text comes through.
“i should probably get that.” he murmurs, not actually making any effort to dislodge you from his thigh. you just double down, arms around his neck, pussy directly on his dumb cargo pants that you hate so much, clit catching on the rough fabric and the corner of his phone, chasing the periodic vibrations.
“gonna let me get that baby?” he teases, grabbing your hips to lift you up. you retaliate by sinking your teeth into his shoulder, fighting his grip to get your wet cunt back on his thigh.
“oh, she’s feral today,” he comments, smacking your ass once in response to the bite - jack knows it’s gonna leave a mark.
you don’t even react, focused on wiggling your way back down onto his thigh and phone, which is still vibrating through his pants. you were so close, and jack is being so mean, making you hover over the embarrassingly large wet spot you left behind.
“you’re gonna water log my phone,” jack notes, following your eyes to the wet patch. “gonna have to stick it in rice after this. how am i gonna explain to IT that my work phone is broken? tell them it’s because i have a very demanding little girl at home with the world’s wettest cunt? and that she sat on my phone like a little slut, using the vibrations to get off?” jack paused, grinning at the long whine you made, embarrassed and turned on by the idea, hips still wiggling. “is that what i’m gonna have to tell them?”
you don’t respond, mainly because you’re not sure if you can form words at this point, and finally win the war against his grip to drop back down to his thigh, cunt once again pressed hard onto the cargo pocket. you immediately start humping, only further proving jack’s point. you don’t care - you’re so close.
jack leans forward, stubble brushing your ear as he growls, “maybe i should make you tell them. call them and apologize for ruining my phone with your wet, selfish cunt. what do you think about that?”
you come - embarrassingly hard, hips stuttering against him as you continue to soak his pants, vaguely aware that jack is cooing and encouraging you as you do so.
“atta girl, so easy for me. coming just from a few calls and texts from robby,” jack rubs your back, letting you collapse into his shoulder, bright with embarrassment and exhaustion.
after a couple of minutes, jack works his hand into his pocket, slowly removing his phone, making a point to wipe the sheen off on his shirt before checking it.
“hm. lucky girl. robby said they got a hold of shen,”jack tips your chin up so you look at him, stupid smirk on his face, “he apologizes for all the calls.”
18+ mdni robby is so smart… robby is so knowledgeable and skilled at what he does and its so hot…
thinking abt asking him for help on some homework— “Robby, where would you expect the injury site to be for a patient who suffers from prosopagnosia post TBI?”
and it’s a genuine question!! but then.. the way he comes up behind your chair, puts on his readers, n leans over your shoulder to look at your paper… the low, steady tone he uses as he explains it to you, pointing out different things in your diagrams to help you visualize it… “Temporal lobe, sweetheart. Right about here.” he raps his pointer finger against the right spot twice, and you swallow thickly as you nod
“Right. The fusiform gyrus.” You pull your lower lip between your teeth. “Would there have to be damage bilaterally?” You already know the answer.
Robby raises a brow at you. You blink at him, as innocent n earnest as you can muster, and he schools his expression as he shakes his head. “No. Each side is specialized. Only the right fusiform gyrus mediates facial recognition.”
“Right.” You nod. “So damage to the left fusiform gyrus wouldn’t cause prosopagnosia, it’d cause….”
“Reading difficulties.” Robby finishes for you. “Possibly pure alexia.”
“Pure alexia…?”
Robby has to bite back his smirk. He talks nice and slow as he explains, “The inability to read while still being able to speak and understand language.” Then he leans closer to murmur in your ear “Any other questions, sweetheart? You want me to explain papercuts, or would you prefer I just fuck you now?”
n he’s soooo mean about it while he fucks you… when he thrusts into you he patronizes “Gonna cum on my cock like a good girl, honey? Hm? Want me to teach you how?” n when you start to roll your hips to chase his dick he lowly praises “There you go, what a quick learner. Such a smart girl.”
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Series Summary: Robby finds 7 year old Lucy injured and alone. He also meets her mother Claire. The rest is history, really. Slow Burn. Eventual smut.
Chapter Summary: Claire visits Robby at work. Important things get lost in translation.
Words: ~4k
A/N: this has some Project Hail Mary references in it! Hope you enjoy 🥰
Taglist (if you left a comment I added you—I hope that’s okay! Lmk if you want to be added/removed): @cometenthusiast @allymillersblog @bugqiu @graciiiaciii @generation-zero @nerdgirljen @bloodink94 @penelopepennington
Robby
Claire
Thanks again for the coffee yesterday! I’m really glad you came to the lecture.
He began to type.
My pleasure
The words we should do it again sometime were on the tip of his tongue—the tip of his fingers.
No.
That would be like… a date. They couldn’t date. She was a patient’s mom.
Robby
My pleasure. It was great to see you in action.
Claire
Sorry it’s not as exciting as your job lol. I’m not stitching people back together.
Robby
Maybe not physically. What you do is a lot more complicated.
Claire
Why do I get the sense that you would rather be a trauma patient than talk about your feelings for an hour?
Robby
Guilty as charged.
Claire
Don’t worry, I’ll have you singing like a canary in no time.
Robby
I admire someone who likes a good challenge.
Claire
You’re on.
————————————————
Claire
Lucy’s class just started their human body unit today. I’m forwarding all inquiries to you.
Robby
Looking forward to it.
————————————————
Claire
Lucy insisted on showing you her school project.
A picture appeared of Lucy very proudly holding up a poster. In the center, there was a lopsided diagram of the human heart. Bundles of blue and red pipe cleaners sprouted from each side, labeled with the name of each artery and vein. The entire paper was dusted with silver sparkles.
Robby
This is incredible work! I am a bit concerned about the patient’s right atrium. Some pretty severe dilation.
Claire
It's the high triglitterides.
Robby
Tell her I’m sending her my next cardio consult.
Claire
I’ll give you her pager number.
————————————————
Claire
We have a stat consult for a science project
Robby
Go ahead
Claire
“If your stomach has acid in it, how does your tummy not melt and fall out of your butt?”
Robby
I’m really hoping this is Lucy’s question and not yours.
Claire
Answer the question, doctor! This is urgent!
Robby
Tell her the acid is weak and it stays in the stomach. No melting organs.
Claire
She’s greatly relieved by this information.
Robby
I didn’t learn that until my last year of medical school. She’s advanced.
Claire
So am I raising a gastroenterologist or a herpetologist?
Robby
She’ll double board certify. Frogs have a digestive system.
Claire
Don’t remind me. I’m going to have to buy crickets all summer.
Robby
Let me know if you need moral support.
Claire
Good. I’m going to need someone to dab my tears on the drive home from petsmart but Lucy’s too small to sit in the passenger seat.
Robby
I’ll bring the tissues.
————————————————
Robby
I need another book recommendation
Claire
For Jake?
Robby
For me
Claire
Okay! Do you like fantasy books?
Robby
I want to try to like them. You have to convert me
Claire
Oooo pressure’s on! Alright, what speaks to you—Dragons Werewolves? Wizards? Vampires?
Robby
This feels like a philosophical question
Claire
Actually, sci fi might be up your alley. Then we can bridge to some real bread and butter fantasy. How do you feel about space?
Robby
Space is interesting
Claire
Try Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir. It’s popular right now. If you bring it up with patients they’ll think you’re really cool.
Robby
I am really cool
Claire
Sure
Robby
You wound me
Claire
Good thing you’re a doctor I guess 🤷🏻
————————————————
Robby
Okay it’s pretty damn good.
Claire
How far into it are you?
Robby
Halfway
Claire
It only gets better. We’ll hold a debrief when you finish it.
————————————————
Robby
Okay I finished it
Claire
What did you think?
The typing bubbles bounced across her screen.
Disappeared.
Reappeared.
Robby
I was crying over a sentient rock
Claire
Amaze amaze amaze! I told you it’s good! That author has two other excellent space books too.
Robby
Guess I have my next two books lined up. Thank you for the recs
Claire
Any time
————————————————
Robby
Robby was stepping out of central two when he felt his phone vibrate.
Claire
How’s your day going?
This was new, these casual texts between them with no particular reason in mind.
Every other conversation in his life was functional, serving a certain purpose—correcting a resident’s care plan, discussing sign out with Jack, ordering a sandwich at the deli.
Talking to Claire wasn’t a task. He wasn’t usually one for recreational conversation but Claire was… different.
Robby
Almost halfway through my shift. In need of a coffee refill.
Claire
You mean the radioactive waste from the cafeteria?
Robby
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Claire
Words of encouragement
He smiled at the screen. He knew exactly what to reply.
Robby
You can’t just say words of encouragement.
Claire
Words of GREAT encouragement.
He went to reply again, but the typing bubbles appeared.
Claire
What if I brought you some?
Robby
Encouragement?
Claire
Coffee. So… yes.
Robby
You don’t have to
Claire
I don’t do things that I don’t want to do. What’s your Dunkin order?
Oh god. She’ll definitely get along with Shen.
Robby
Black coffee
Claire
Don’t be a hero. Choose a dairy.
Robby
Cream is fine
————————————————
Claire
Claire found herself walking into the hospital a half an hour later with a stack of donut boxes and a coffee balanced on top. The waiting room was full to the brim, buzzing with misery.
The woman behind the glass smiled as she approached the desk.
“You must be Claire.”
“That’s me,” she nodded.
“Robby said you’d be stopping by,” she said. “Nurse’s station’s straight ahead, honey.”
The double doors beside her began to open.
“Thank you!”
As Claire walked into the department, she was hit with a wave of chaos. Beeping monitors chimed in a dissonant chorus. Dozens of workers in scrubs fluttered in quick strides around the unit.
She swallowed down the memories of her last visit here and took a deep breath, heading toward the nurse’s station.
There was nothing denoting that the older blonde woman with glasses was in charge. It was simply obvious.
Claire stopped in front of her.
“Hi, I’m looking for Robby?”
She looked up, giving her a once over before stopping on the donuts.
“And about six dozen new friends,” Dana replied with a smirk. “Claire?”
“Hi,” she smiled.
“Dana,” she replied. “He’s in trauma one. He’ll be out in just a second.”
“Thanks.”
Claire looked back and found every person behind the desk staring at her.
All eyes were quickly averted, except for one young woman who wasn’t quite fast enough. She looked almost too young to be working in a hospital. Her eyes grew a little wider as Claire caught her staring.
“Um, h-hi!” the girl stuttered after a moment, a nervous smile crossing her features. “I—I was at your lecture. A few weeks ago? I’m Victoria.”
The memory sprang to life.
“You asked about emergency psych,” Claire said.
“Yeah, that was me!” Victoria nodded. “Your presentation was cool! I mean—not cool—sexual trauma isn’t cool, I just—it was interesting.”
Victoria deflated and looked like she was considering hiding under the desk.
Claire smiled kindly.
“Still working on those patient rapport skills, huh?”
“…Yeah.”
“It’s just practice and passion—you’ll get there.”
“Thanks,” Victoria said, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
“Claire!”
She turned and saw Robby walking over with a smile.
“Hi!” she replied, “I brought you a coffee and some team morale.”
“That’s a dangerous amount of morale,” he said as he took the coffee precariously perched atop the boxes.
“I wasn’t sure how many people work here.”
“Neither are we,” Dana muttered.
“Do you have a pen or a marker?” Claire asked. “I want to label some for night shift.”
“Oh she’s good,” Perlah whispered.
Robby turned to Dana, who produced a sharpie.
Hushed commentary passed over the station, gazes flicking between Claire and Robby.
Claire felt a bit like an animal in a zoo exhibit.
Robby glanced back at the desk and everyone suddenly found something else to look at.
“Come on,” he said, placing a hand on Claire’s back. “I’ll show you where you can put these.”
He started to guide her to the breakroom.
Commentary immediately resumed behind them.
The breakroom was empty as they stepped inside. The whole room was blindingly white, not a spec of color to be found. An ancient coffee maker sat on the counter and various passive aggressive notes were taped across the cabinets. A motivational poster on the wall had been defaced into something considerably less motivational. A CPR mannequin sat at the table, inexplicably wearing a Hawaiian shirt.
“This is exactly what I imagined,” she said as she looked around.
“Is it?” he said.
She nodded as she set the boxes down on the table. “This is a space designed by people who live on caffeine and spite.”
“Can’t argue with you there.”
Claire pulled the cap from the marker and began writing on three of the boxes.
NIGHT SHIFT ONLY!
He leaned against the counter, arms loosely crossed, watching her.
“There,” she said, closing the marker. “Now there’s a social contract.”
“We’ll see how well it holds up.”
“Oh it won’t. But at least night shift will know they were considered.”
“Thank you for this,” Robby gestured with his cup. “You really didn’t have to.”
“I owed you a lecture coffee anyway,” Claire shrugged.
“That doesn’t mean I owe you a lecture, do I?”
“I’ll let it slide.”
“I’m halfway through the next book you recommended,” he said. “The Martian?”
“Yeah? How do you like it?”
“It’s good. I admire his creative gardening.”
“Ingenuity at its finest,” Claire laughed. “We’ll get you to high fantasy soon, too. Just have to ease you in.”
“Well, I’m thoroughly enjoying my introduction so far. I trust you.”
The door opened and a woman with dark hair pulled into a neat bun poked her head in.
Claire recognized her—she’d taken care of Lucy that first night.
The doctor did a double take.
“Oh—Miss Slater,” she greeted.
“Wow, you’re good with faces,” Claire said. “Hi—God, I just realized I only know you as Dr. Sam.”
“Samira Mohan,” she replied. “How is your daughter doing?”
“She’s great, thank you,” Claire smiled.
Samira looked to Robby.
“There’s a trauma two minutes out.”
“On my way,” he nodded.
Samira loitered for a moment, looking between Robby and Claire. “O-okay,” she said as she slipped back into the hallway with a small wave.
“Why does everyone in this place have a staring problem?” Claire said lightly. “Do I have something in my teeth?”
“Ah,” Robby scratched at the back of his neck. “Sorry about that.” He held the door for her. “The rumor mill is churning. Looks like people have the wrong idea about us.”
Wrong idea?
Something in her chest sank a fraction.
She forced a smile.
“Right.”
A voice sounded down the hall.
“Robby!”
“I have to—”
“Yep, go save lives,” she shooed him away.
“Tell Lucy I said hi,” he said as he backed toward the ambulance bay.
“Will do.”
“Thanks for the coffee!” he called.
“Anytime!”
Claire chewed on her cheek as she watched him disappear into the bay. She took a small breath and headed to the desk.
“Nice to meet you, Dana,” she smiled as she handed back the marker.
“Likewise. Take care of yourself hun.”
“You too.”
Claire didn’t even have to look to know she had an audience again. Instead, she headed back to the waiting room and out the door.
She sighed as the door swung shut behind her, sealing the chaos inside.
Wrong idea?
————————————————
As soon as she was out of earshot, Princess spoke.
“Oh. My god.”
“Did you see the look on his face?” Perlah said.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile like that,” Princess replied.
“I’d be smiling too,” Trinity muttered. “She’s fucking hot.”
“Don’t be gross,” Dana scolded.
“It’s true,” Trinity shrugged.
“She seemed nice,” Whitaker said.
Kim approached the station, looking at the gathered crowd.
“What did I miss?”
“Robby’s boo thing came and brought him coffee,” Princess said.
“Robby’s ‘boo thing’?”
“Yep,” Trinity nodded. “And she’s a total smoke show.”
“I didn’t know Robby was seeing anyone.”
“He’s not,” Dana interjected. “Not that he’ll admit, anyway.”
“She brought donuts for everyone and even labeled some for night shift,” Perlah said.
“She’s good,” Kim replied.
“That’s what I said!” Princess cried.
“Happy for him, he deserves it, etcetera, etcetera,” Trinity sighed as she pushed back from the desk. “I’m getting a donut.”
————————————————
Robby
“I heard Claire stopped by today,” Jack said.
Robby glanced up at him and barely spared a roll of his eyes. Jack rested his elbows on the counter.
“She did,” Robby replied.
“Still nothing to tell me?”
“Nothing to tell you,” Robby said. “The whole department made sure it was a very uncomfortable visit for everyone involved.”
“They mean well. We’re all just rooting for you.”
“There’s nothing to root for. I had to explain that everyone has the wrong idea about us.”
Jack straightened.
“You said that to her?”
“Yes?”
“Robby,” Jack hung his head. “Why would you say that?!”
“Because everyone was staring at her like some sort of zoo animal.”
“Bad call, brother.”
“Horrible call,” Dana shook her head, appearing beside him, grabbing a pen from the desk, and disappearing again.
Robby looked genuinely confused.
“Seriously?” Jack asked.
Robby raised his eyebrows, awaiting an explanation.
Trinity slid by on a rolling chair.
“You friend zoned her, dude.”
Robby withdrew slightly.
Oh shit.
He told her anything more than friendship was “wrong,” right to her face.
“See?” Jack said quietly, a gentle smile on his face. “You do want to be with her.”
“What?”
“You got awfully thoughtful for a second there.”
Robby blinked.
“No, I just hope it wasn’t rude.”
Jack sighed.
“What’s the problem here, Robby? She’s single, isn’t she? You clearly get along.”
“I’m not interested in her.”
“You sure? And don’t give me that ‘patient’s mom’ bullshit.”
“It’s not like that.”
“She brought you coffee at work. No one comes to this hell hole voluntarily.”
“Jesus Christ, drop it.”
“Let someone in, Robby. It won’t kill you, I promise.”
“Can you just stop playing at this and take the goddamn sign out?”
“Just consider it.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Fine. Don’t be happy.”
“Gladly. Okay, south one: 32 year old male…”
————————————————
He didn’t think much about it.
He only thought about it in the elevator after he left. And then as he strode through the parking garage and unlocked his car. And on his way home as stripes of streetlights passed over the windshield.
Wrong idea.
He’d meant it as an explanation. It was supposed to give her an out. He hadn’t meant it as a verdict.
He replayed it over and over. She’d replied with ‘right’ and a smile, but he couldn’t remember if it had reached her eyes.
He drummed his fingers on the center console and watched the pavement feed itself to the tires.
It was fine. It was correct. The right thing said badly. Because that was the truth of it, wasn’t it?
Whatever he’d felt standing in that break room watching her label boxes for people she’d never met, whatever moved through his chest when she laughed, or when Lucy said his name? That wasn’t a thing he got to have. He knew that about himself.
He wasn’t easy. He worked too much and felt too little, and then felt everything all at once and didn’t know what to do with it. God knows the last time he’d let someone close enough—the last time there had been a kid involved—he’d watched it end in tragedy.
Claire had already lost enough. Lucy had already lost enough.
Better to stop now before there was anything at all for them to lose.
Claire
Claire found herself back on the sidelines that Saturday, sitting beside Denise. They watched Carter and Lucy circle the field.
Carter managed a break away.
He kicked the ball and it easily rolled past the goalie’s comically large gloves and into the net.
The parents erupted.
Lucy jumped up and down despite having nothing to do with it—not to mention playing on the opposing team—and gave him a hug.
“Way to go, Carter!” Denise cheered, grabbing Claire's arm. "Did you see that?!"
"I saw it!" Claire nodded.
The parents settled as the field was reset. Claire and Denise sat back into their chairs as play resumed.
Claire unlocked her phone screen.
No messages.
"No play by play coverage for Robby today?” Denise asked.
Claire glanced at her and huffed, tucking her phone away. "I don’t send Robby play by plays."
“Right,” Denise nodded. "Everything okay with him?"
"There is no ‘everything’ with Robby, Denise."
"Sure."
“Really. He said so himself.”
Denise looked over at that.
“He did?”
“Yeah. He said people had the ‘wrong idea’ about us.”
"When?"
Claire exhaled. "I stopped by the ED yesterday to bring him a coffee—"
"You brought him coffee at work?"
"I owed him one. Anyway. All of his coworkers were staring at us, whispering—"
"Because you're obviously—"
"We're not ‘obviously’ anything," Claire said firmly. “You have the wrong idea.”
Denise was quiet for a moment.
"He said that."
"He said that."
"To your face?”
"Directly to my face, yes."
"Hm." Denise watched Lucy chase down a ball near the sideline. "What did you say?"
"I said right and then I left.”
"That’s all?"
"What else was there to say? They did have the wrong idea. That’s what I've been saying all along—there’s nothing between us."
“And you don’t want there to be anything between you?”
“No.”
“Really? A hot, single doctor who talks to you about books and goes to your lectures and loves your kid? You’re telling me you want nothing more with him?”
Claire opened her mouth to reply then closed it. She sighed.
“It doesn’t matter either way now,” she said.
“I don’t know,” Denise replied. “Sounds more like he was just embarrassed by his co-workers and put his foot in his mouth by accident.”
Claire considered it, resenting the spark of hope she felt in her chest.
“Well it’s irrelevant,” Claire insisted.
Denise gave her a long, patient look and a sigh.
“Alright then,” she reached over and pulled out a bag of pretzels from her tote, popping it open. “Irrelevant it is.”
She held the bag out to Claire.
“Completely irrelevant,” Claire nodded as she took a handful, watched Lucy play, and definitely did not think about Robby at all.
hi, i have the ao3 skin that turns the text red when the use of claude ai is detected and i went to read your fic ‘(antibiotic) resistant’, but the second chapter was all red so i think either you or maybe a beta reader has used ai to help write that chapter. this isn’t meant as an attack but if you have used ai i think you should be upfront about it because i know many people, including myself, would not choose to read an ai fic if they had previously known it was used.
That simply isn’t possible because I wrote it with my own two thumbs and my fiancé is my beta lol. Also, the WHOLE chapter is red? Maybe it’s because of the “one sentence per line” kind of style? It’s meant to be choppy to convey the chaos of her crashing, but I know AI’s love making each sentence its own line too. AI writing always sucks and I like to think the quality of my writing is at least a LITTLE better than slop 😅
Also, what is a skin? I’m obviously on AO3, but I thought a skin was like a pseudonym profile. I’m going to look it up.
I have this weird conundrum where I’ll write something and then think it sounds too AI-ish. So then I’ll change it. And THEN I think “well I’m not going change my writing style—my very own creative VOICE—for the sake of AI” and I’ll change it back. And then I go through that loop over and over. It’s ironic that even when avoiding the use of AI, it STILL effects how I write, just because I’m fucking thinking about it all the time. I’m so over it. I hope the data centers overheat and catch fire and die lol
I miss the days where we all just had to google things and then dig through results to find the answers to our questions 😭
See I’m confused is the ENTIRE cast incapable of using their stethoscope the right way, am I the only person who notices this like am I crazy!?!? If I did this at my job I would be yelled at by an angry medic so fast lol 🙃
Because I was thinking the same thing. Even Noah puts it in wrong and I was so confused because after 30 years of playing a doctor, you’d think someone mentioned he had it in backwards lol.
They do it intentionally because it’s too hard to hear what’s happening in the scene if it’s in properly!
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genuinely put my whole fucking fist in my mouth when baran al hashimi showed up in that fucking tank top. and then cassie mckay in that fucking tank top. baran's mane of gorgeous curls. cassie's arm around victoria's shoulders. meltos scene. the fucking song choice. is she perverted like me? trinity TAKING DOWN MEL'S BRAID. this episode was for the lesbians oh my fucking god
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