First it was Whitaker ogling you as you jogged out of the room to assist Dana with another patient.

Then it was Robby making a few too many jokes to you at the nurses station.

The final strike, perhaps obviously, was a misdeed performed by the hands of none other than one Dr. Trinity Santos.

Now, Garcia would never deny that she and Santos had . . . something before. She couldn't exactly say they were dating, but they had some kind of relationship. But that was before she'd met you at an afterwork event at a bar a few blocks away from the PTMC.

That was before she'd stepped into the (un)surprisingly full bar, her surgery attending almost immediately stepping away to conglomerate with his fellow attendings, leaving her to her own accord.

That was before she spotted you sat at the bar, low yellow light reflecting off your warm, skin like rays of gold, the light bouncing off your springy curls almost hypnotically as you chatted with Princess, who was already two beers deep despite the meet up being only having started an hour ago.

That was before she sent you a wink and nodded to the women's restroom. Before she had her talented hands down your pants in the cramped stall. Before she took you back to her apartment to finish what you'd started, then to breakfast the next morning.

Yes, everything that'd gone down with Santos happened months and months ago. The hatchet had long been buried between the two.

So then what, you may ask, had Santos done that was so offensive to the surgeon.

She asked you out for drinks after work.

Nothing complicated, nothing invasive. The only reason you didn't get to say no was a patient with a partial amputation arriving by way of EMT with an ETA of less than two minutes.

Still, the question bounced around in Garcia's head for hours, having overheard it on her way back from a consult with Robby and Langdon.

Damn them all, arrogant clowns in the ER, she thought, disregarding that you were a nurse in the very department. Talking to her girlfriend like that, the nerve!

Don't get Garcia wrong, she knows her girlfriend is hot as shit. She knows her body is distracting, even in scrubs. She knows her skin and eyes twinkle and glow even under the harsh and unforgiving hospital lights. She knows. Hell, that's why they're even together in the first place.

But so what?! You're her girlfriend. The only person who should be allowed to publicly drool over you is her God damn it.

It just so happens that she was paged for consult with that partial amputation. Furthermore, it just so happens you were working on that patient's case. Further, furthermore, it just so happened that Santos and Robby were also on the case.

Oh she could just jump for joy.

When presented with such a moment of serendipity, whom amongst us wouldn't take the opportunity to gloat. To brag. To rub our gorgeous, beautiful, happy, women-loving-women relationship in the faces of others? Certainly not Garcia.

"Hey hot-stuff, what're we working with?" She uttered, a small smirk on her face as she waltzed into the room, practically kicking her heels at her own mischievous scheme.

Her gaze was firmly pointed at you, causing Santos to look up . It caught Dr. Robby off guard , the older man responding with a crooked bushy brow and a tilt of his head.

"Flattered, Garcia, just . . . Didn't think you swung that way-" "I'm not talking to you." She interrupted, speaking firmly, as her gaze alternating between the patient and you. She stared at you expectantly, everyone in the rom listening carefully, if not a bit confused, as you carefully explained the case.

"Oh-Um, 32 year-old male, left with partial amputation to right arm after farming accident." "Good girl. If it's just partial clean it up and send it upstairs. Can't get shit done down here." Yolanda responded, sending you a smile and a look through her lashes after examining the patient herself.

"Later, losers." She called over he shoulder, ducking out of the room after removing her gloves and cleaning her hands, a shared look of confusion bouncing around most of the people left in her wake. Step one: Completed.

The tension was only partially removed when Robby cleared his throat, redirecting the attention of the nurses and residents. "You heard her. Lets get this show on the road people." He dismissed himself with a single clap before exiting the room as well.

With his long legs it wasn't particularly hard for him to catch up with Garcia half way across the ER. He chuckled once he caught up, rubbing the back of his neck almost bashfully. "So . . ." He started, waiting for the younger woman to pick up his que.

"So." She followed, liking like the cat who got the cream. The attending chuckled in response, shaking his head a bit at her tone. "You and Y/N? I thought you had something going on with Santos."

"Keep up old man. Now I have a lot more going on with Y/N." She replied, sending a sly look his way as they approached the elevators.

"Don't tell me you plan on going through all my residents and nurses, Garcia, this place will fall apart." He called at her slim, fleeting figure, staying back.

"Just taking a page out of your book, Robby." Yolanda finished, pressing the button for the surgery floor and turning to look back at him once the doors opened.

She had no plans to dabble with any of the other women working on this God forsaken floor. Especially not after you. But she'd be damned if she let the old bastard get all up in her business like that.

Step two came a little later, after what must've been her third call for consult that day alone. Good, just gave her more time around you.

Precious you, leaning over the central nursing station, chatting amicably with Princess about some ridiculous patient in North 13.

As she floated by the station she spotted a certain mousey little man approaching, that perpetually nervous smile on his face. She couldn't miss the opportunity to stop to greet you.

She could see the gentle grin on his face morph into one of slight confusion from the corner of her eye, a hand gracing your lower back as she pulled up beside you. "Hey babe." She uttered lowly, her voice barely loud enough for you to hear.

"Oh, hey baby." You greeted in turn, ignoring Princess' saucer-wide eyes as yo leaned back into her touch. Whitaker stepped slowly away, pretending he needed help taking vitals when Perlah spotted his quivering form hovering near by.

Step two: Completed.

Now for step three.

"I got paged by Langdon, so I gotta go, but I'll see you later." Garcia state her voice back to a normal volume. She moved to step away only to get pulled closer to you by her scrubs, your hand resting on her shoulder as you pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Okay, YoGo. Go save some limbs or something. I'll see you later." You promised, sending her off with a gentle shove. Yolanda looked around, and beside the resident gossips of Princess and Perlah watching with barely contained smiles, it seemed the kiss was yours alone.

Hours later, once it had finally started to turn to night shift, she came down stairs to find you, again, resting at the nurses station, slouched over in a chair with one of your feet kicked up. The exhaustion of the day finally caught up with you.

Garcia's curls were down, released from their buns and cascading down her back, her scrubs replaced with an old band tee and jeans, a dark jacket over her shoulders.

She glanced around, Santos charting within earshot, Whitaker and Robby catching up on their earlier cases, Princess and Perlah hovering behind Dana as she gathered her own stuff, ready to clock out.

Perfect.

You sat up at the sight of her, stretching your arms above your head and holding back a yawn before sending her sleepy smile.

All the biggest offenders in one spot, and the biggest gossips there to spread the good word. She pounced.

"You ready to go, babe? I'm in the mood for Chinese, we can pick it up on the way back." She said, loud enough for Trinity to subtly lean over, her eyes darting back and forth between the screen and the two of you.

"Yeah, just let me get changed. My place or yours?" You asked, slowly rising from the wheeled chair and getting ready to head to the locker room. Garcia scoffed into your hair, pulling you inter her side briefly, before letting you slip away to get changed. "Never ask me that again." She called, feeling eyes burning holes into her back.

Funny, all the previous conversation that had surrounded you was now absent. She looked over her shoulder, sending a look to the aforementioned parties, all of whom quickly averted their gazes.

Mission: Completed.