you’ll know it when you see it

my fics masterlist

► complete

mohabbot

swarm — 72k, an adaptation of michael mann’s heat. don't worry, baby — 18.9k, e. 5 times Jack Abbot has wanted to be the father of a daughter + 1 time Samira Mohan makes him one. daylight licked me into shape — 20.1k, e. The crew goes to the beach. fit n full — 13.5k, e. Robby throws a summer barbecue and Samira shows up in a minidress. developing story — 2.3k, t. AU inspired by Broadcast News (1987). expressions — 1.6k, m. Jack Abbot is a terrible liar. make me hungry for you — 3.8k, e. If pressed to define it, Samira would describe her relationship with Jack Abbot in fairly simple terms. They are coworkers. Friends. Close friends, even, sure, she’d confidently say that. reset the breaker — 2.5k, e. There is genuinely no one else Samira can call. And anyway — he’s at the top of her recent calls log. She presses his name and feels her heart clench with every passing ring.

written with others

is it cheating if... we're just talking on the phone? — 5.1k, e. chapter 1 of the "is it cheating" collection written with 12 other authors. maybe it's the loving in your eyes — 4k, NR, written with mk and darling. Victoria brings Samira to a concert. Samira realizes some things. thelma & louise — 3.8k, NR, written with mk and darling. There's an alley cat in the ambulance bay.

other pairings

good girl, sharp teeth — samira/jack/victoria, 8.6k, e. In which Victoria learns how to ask for what she wants. révérence — dana/robby/jack, 9.3k, e. Dana likes riling ‘em up, Jack and Robby. Likes seeing how far they’ll go to court her affections. The ballet AU. take a bite — jack/victoria, 6.4k, e. Shamsi and Abbot used to date. Years later, Victoria meets him again.

► in progress

think about me — 35.2k, t, 6/20. In which Samira moves across the country for a two-year fellowship. candleburn — 8.9k, e, 1/3. You know what they say about weddings bringing people together. the old place — 4.6k, e, 1/4. Jack Abbot and Samira Mohan reunite onscreen. Actors + exes AU.

► blurbs

the mohabbot blurb collection here, ratings vary.

video edits

Which is the reason he is still, unfortunately for him, nursing what he is embarassed at this age to call a crush on Samira Mohan. And is also the reason why he knows that Samira—when he sees her tonight at the first reunion she has RSVP’ed Yes to in years—will look beautiful as she chuckles good-naturedly at his attempts at jokes, and will kindly turn down his offer to buy her next round, but will still clink her glass against his and earnestly ask questions about how he’s liking Mount Sinai. And that after tonight, she will continue to post absolutely nothing gleanable about her life on her Instagram—the only updates he will be privy to will be on her Pubmed page—and then maybe, Drew will see her again at the next wedding or reunion, whichever comes first, and the cycle will repeat.

Drew wishes he’d fallen for Anna, with her spreadsheet of nationwide contacts, her penchant for flirting back, and her proximity to New York. He’s tried dating other people, too, but nothing sticks. He doesn’t change. It isn’t possible. Always, in the back of his mind, a smokescreen of memory provides a daydream of someone he never sees and can’t have.

As soon as he walks into the brewery where Anna has booked out the back room, Drew knows he has made a grave underestimation.

Because of all the people he might have expected could surprise him with a drastic life update, Samira Mohan is fairly near the bottom of that list.

But there she is: standing at one of the tall tables, an oval set in glinting gold on her ring finger and a breath-stealingly handsome older man beside her, whose hand is curved comfortably around her hip as he extends his other to Anna as Samira introduces them. As Drew draws closer, he hears the man’s voice rumble with an indistinct comment in a jocular tone, and then Samira and Anna crease with tickled laughter.

“Drew! You made it,” Anna cries out when he’s near enough, beckoning him into the cluster. He knows it’s no surprise to Anna that he’s here—he’d RSVP’ed dutifully, after all, and he knows she’d probably crossed her t’s and dotted her i’s half a dozen times before leaving her house today—but the way she brightens to make him feel so welcome dissolves all impulse to banter on this point, even in jest.

“In the flesh,” Drew smiles, embracing her. She’s such an amiable personality; Drew really does wish she could have been the one he was still carrying a torch for.

“Hey, good to see you,” Samira loops an arm over his shoulder for a brief hug and pulls away with a smile. Drew now notices that its wattage, though still bright and cheerful, is by a hardly-noticeable measure a dimmer version of the one she’d boasted just moments earlier at the joke he hadn’t heard.

“Likewise,” Drew returns the smile. “Who’s the arm candy?” he adds, slinging a playful tilt of his chin in the direction of her partner. The man flushes, dipping his head as his eyes crinkle with a modesty Drew can tell he’s not putting on. Damn, he’s thoroughly charmed, and he hasn’t even heard the man speak yet.

“This is my fiancé, Dr. Abbot,” Samira grins, her left hand patting lovingly on Abbot’s chest in a way that makes clear how proud she is to belong to him.

“Jack, please,” he says, offering his hand to Drew to shake. It’s as firm as his self-assured gaze; both serve to communicate that he has an accurate reading on the envious waves coursing through Drew’s chest right now, and convey with just as much confidence that Jack is willing to demonstrate a certain possessiveness in order to walk him down.

To a degree, Drew remains certain of his thesis that people are only capable of minor change. Because as the small group of them carry on their conversation, Samira acts the way she has always acted around him.

Even though Abbot never allows more than a scant few inches of space between himself and his fiancée, Samira chuckles with Drew, and clinks her cocktail glass against Drew’s, and asks Drew plenty of questions. She even glides a smooth hand over Drew’s arm, leans in and tells him, “I’m going to come find you later once Risha’s here—one of my interns is interested in the EM public health fellowship at Mount Sinai and I wanna pick your brain about some things,” before slipping away with a smile to catch up with another peer.

For a solid portion of the night, Drew mingles. He meets other new spouses, indulges in some close conspiratorial banter with Anna because it feels good to gleam under the easily-given spotlight of her attention, and passes around photos of his new dog, his brother’s wedding. For a solid portion of the night, Drew is able to forget his bruised ego.

And then during a chat with Risha about the most coveted restaurant reservations in the city that segues into how their staying busy with work dashes all hopes of trying anything while it’s still trending, he’s suddenly reminded of Samira’s request. He excuses himself with a promise to return shortly, weaves through the crowd to go and find her. She’s at the other end of the room, holding court with her fiancé and a few others, and her smile widens when she sees Drew approaching in a way that wedges into the inner door leading to his affection for her. She steps aside to make space for him in the circle.

“Hey,” he starts. “Risha’s here and we’re talking shop, did you still want to—”

“Oh! Yeah, for sure,” Samira nods eagerly. And because, apparently, being wrong once tonight is not enough, she sways in closer to Abbot, lowering her voice to tell him, nearly nose to nose, “I’ll be back, okay?”

Abbot’s eye flits to Drew’s in the space of a blink. Drew doesn’t even think Samira sees it, because she’s now looking toward Drew with her hand still on her fiancé’s collar—and then Abbot’s hand is sliding over hers, engulfing it as he pulls her in for a kiss. Both their lips arc upward before meeting, the type of smile that belongs to a more intimate moment. They seem to move as one, the lines of their bodies like two trees that have grown together, their hands winding into familiar places in each other’s curls, a flash of white smiles and pink tongue faster than a heartbeat in the deep amber light of the bar.