#mavadi

To his colleagues (or friends, as some of them forced him to refer to them as such), she was an unnamed woman who travelled for work. Outside of his life, she was a worldwide sensation. His heart thumped every time someone dropped her name, having no idea that the reason Robby kept feminine products in his bathroom was the woman who’s newest song they were humming under their breath as they worked. It wasn’t as if he was keeping her a secret, making subtle changes in the way he spoke and acted that made it obvious to the nosy workers in the ED. 

His plans for his days off went from solo plans to ‘we’ statements, late night debriefs in the park became less frequent, and he occasionally looked as though he wasn’t thinking about fleeing the country and assuming a new identity to escape the chaos of his job. The note titled ‘days since RobinaBitch made someone cry’ in Trinity’s phone is updated daily, the number ticking higher and higher in a way it never had before. Of course, there’s a groupchat specifically for the ongoing bet that most of the staff was in on, with wages increasing steadily as time went on. 

On her end - she’s not hiding anything. Sure, his face isn’t on her extremely public instagram page, but everything else is fair game. A snapshot of her with his stethoscope around her neck, wearing blue scrubs and a fake badge that reads “DR. VALENTINE” - a get up for one of her more recent music videos. The caption reads ‘he wouldn’t let me borrow his real badge :(‘. Another photo in one of her many dumps is of her across a table, clearly on a private patio, with a more weathered hand holding onto one of her’s, Robby’s signature silver watch sitting on his wrist. 

He’s honestly shocked that Mel, who could quite literally be her biggest fan, hasn’t pieced it together in any way. Luckily, most people don’t make the assumption that their ED attending could possibly be dating an international popstar who’s half his age. 

Eventually, at the Christmas staff party, he caves.

“I thought you might bring your mystery woman,” Dana says, nursing a whiskey on the rocks, swirling the amber liquid around a few times. “We’re all dying to meet her.”

“Dying to see who wins eight grand, more like,” Robby counters, recalling what the number had been the last time he had seen the whiteboard. They kept it hidden under the desk at the nurses station, but sometimes they weren’t quick enough to slide it out of sight as he returned from a trauma room. 

“That too,” Dana says, not even hiding the added bonus of ending this bet. “What’s she like? She work in healthcare?”

Robby raises an eyebrow, giving her a pointed look, practically bleeding with ‘don’t push your luck’. She raises her hands in mock surrender, shrugging. 

“Keep your secrets,” She says, taking another sip of her drink. Shen and Jack slide into the booth with them, and Jack hands Robby another beer. 

“What secrets?” John asks, having heard the last piece of the conversation. 

“Girlfriend secrets,” Dana answers, making Robby roll his eyes as he tips the beer into his mouth. 

“Ah,” Jack says, exhaling sharply through his nose. “You think she might run out on ya’?”

The question makes everyone laugh, and Robby huffs, trying to stop the small smile from taking over his lips. He’s unsuccessful. 

“No,” He says, toying with the bottle in his hands, picking at the label. “Scared you lot won’t behave.”

“What if we pinky promise?” John asks, holding his pinky towards the older man. Garcia, Walsh, and Trinity approach the table as he does, watching as Robby almost loops his own pinky with John’s out of habit. He stops himself, yanking his hand back. Trinity is leaning against Garcia, about six tequila sodas in. Garcia is trying to act like she hates it, but is doing a horrible job. Walsh is holding what appears to be a scotch, neat, shuffling past the couple and sitting next to Jack. 

“Are we grilling Robby about his girlfriend?” She asks, not even sure if that’s what’s going on, but she certainly wants it to be. This makes Trinity gasp, taking the empty spot beside Robby. Garcia rolls her eyes, grabbing a chair from a nearby table and placing it at the edge of the booth. 

“Not grilling, just asking,” Jack insists. “Not that he’ll answer anything.”

Robby’s on his fifth beer, and he’s starting to feel the effects. Suddenly, the consequences of his staff knowing anything about her don’t seem so bad, and he makes a permissive gesture with his arms. 

“Fine, you have one minute.”

“Does she work in healthcare?”

“No.”

“How long have you been together?” 

“Four years.”

“How’d you meet?”

“A wedding.”

Various whistles and sounds spring from the group, gaining the attention of a few others nearby, who quickly migrate towards them, familiarizing themselves with the topic of conversation quickly. 

“What does she do for work?”

“No.”

“What?” Frank asks, thinking his question was more than appropriate. “Why not?”

“One minute!” Trinity exclaims, making him shut up. 

“Is she from here?”

“No.”

“Is she in town right now?”

Robby hesitates, and everyone notices. People turn to the person beside them, eyebrows raised and knowing smiles on their faces. Robby sighs, thinking about her, probably laying in his bed as they spoke, only about ten minutes away. His phone hadn’t buzzed all night, since she was ridiculously mature and rarely texted him when he was out with friends, wanting to respect his space and social life. 

“That’s a yes,” Jack says. “She’s in town and you didn’t bring her to the holiday party? Was she not offended?”

Robby freezes, wondering if maybe she was, but then throws the thought out of his head. She knew as much as he did that any introduction was going to be an absolute shitshow, and that Robby just wanted to live in peace for a little while longer. 

“No, she wasn’t,” He answers, meeting Jack’s gaze. “She-”

“Something’s gotta’ be up,” Dana says, cutting him off, making him look towards her. “Four years in and you won’t even bring her to the holiday party? You’re hiding something.”

“Okay, minute is over,” Robby announces, but with the number of staff circled around him like a pack of lions, he knows he has no power. 

“What aren’t you saying, Robby?” Jack asks, a smirk creeping onto his face. 

“Nothing,” Robby says. “I answered almost all of your questions, maybe you should’ve asked better ones.”

This lets him off the hook for the time being, but eventually the topic of conversation circles back to her. It’s a few hours later, and he’s sliding his coat over his shoulders, about to start the walk back to his place. Dana is doing the same, shoving mittens over her hands and a scarf around her neck in an effort to thwart the Pittsburgh cold that awaited them outside. 

“What’s her name?” She asks, her voice gentle and curious. 

Robby thinks for a second. 

“Is it a hard one?” Dana teases, her voice slightly muffled by her scarf.

Robby huffs, shaking his head. Then, her name - your name - falls from his lips, hitting the floor like glass and shattering all around him. Dana hums, nodding. Her hand falls on his bicep, patting it a few times. 

“Pretty,” She decides. “I’m sure she’d love to see this side of you.”

She gestures to the staff, most of which are still dancing and drinking inside the bar they had rented out. Robby can’t help but clock how easily you would fit in with the crowd, making conversation and asking all the right questions in a way that many can’t. Having the perfect number of drinks, wearing a perfectly appropriate outfit, leaning against him or touching his arm at all the right moments. He trusts every single person in this room with patients lives, certainly he can trust them with you, can’t he?

So, he asks. 

You’re in the kitchen when he gets home, making yourself a mug of tea. You’re wearing winter-themed pajamas, shorts and a long-sleeve with matching socks. You smile easily, letting him remove his coat and boots before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Have fun?” You asks, your fingers coiling through his hair, long nails scratching lightly in the way that he loved so much. 

“Yeah,” He says, because he genuinely did have fun. “They asked about you.”

“What’d you say?” 

“Not much,” He admits. “I was thinking…maybe you could meet some of them.”

The way your eyes light up makes his heart jump, slamming into his ribcage. He grins at the sight, and you nod quickly. 

“I would really like that,” You say, pressing a kiss to his lips. “When?”

“Can I think on it?” He asks, voice soft. 

You smile. “Of course.”

So think on it he does. 

Days go by without a single good idea, and he’s starting to wonder if he should take back everything he said. But then he remembers the look on your face when he suggested it and he knows he can’t. Luckily, the universe seems to be on his side when he walks into the ED a few days later, instantly noticing the way a few groups of people were huddled together, phones out. He furrows his brows, coming up behind Dana, who’s leaning against the desk with several other nurses around her. 

“What the hell is going on?” He asks, and Dana barely looks up from her phone to answer. 

“You know Valentine?”

The name hits him square in the chest. 

“The singer? A little,” He answers. “Why?”

“She just announced a pop-up show,” Dana explains, pulling down the page she’s on to refresh it. “It’s here, tomorrow night. She reserved an entire section for PTMC staff, as a thank you. Can you believe that?”

Robby can, in fact, believe that. 

“A thank you for what?”

“For PittFest,” Dana says, as though it’s obvious. “We just need to show our badge at the door and we get in for free.”

“So what exactly is everyone doing?” Robby asks, adjusting his grip on his backpack. Dana shoots him a glare over her glasses, refreshing the page again. He rolls his eyes, walking into the locker room and depositing his things. He pulls out his phone, opening your contact.

Didn’t know you were doing a show tomorrow.

You respond almost immediately.

How’d you find out?

He laughs lowly.

My entire staff is talking about it.

He watches the three dots pop up again before they’re replaced with words.

Oops.

Then, another text.

Too far?

He sighs, his lips curving upwards into a smile. 

No, very generous - we could all use a morale boost.

The response comes in a second later. 

You’re coming, then?

Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.

Great. Have a good shift, love you :) 

He says it back, then puts his phone away, ready to face whatever today was going to throw at him. 

He had, stupidly, agreed to meet everyone who was able to make the show at a bar before hand, where a series of party buses would pick them up and take them to the venue. He wished that he had declined, and was spending the night before your show watching you get ready. He loved watching you perform in front of an audience, but seeing you do your thing during soundcheck was a whole different experience. However, he couldn’t complain too much, since drinks had actually been fun. 

When they arrive at the venue, badges in hand, Robby starts to get nervous. He has no idea what to expect, and he’s just hoping that someone from the venue security would let him through and not someone from your own team. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that Tori, one of your security managers, is busy frisking a young man when they walk in. The security officer waves the group of them through, calling out to another man who’s in a black suit. He introduces himself as Alex, then shows them to their seats. It’s directly in front of the stage, leaving the group with slack jaws and eliciting excited squeals from a few people. 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this,” Mel says, under her breath. Robby smiles, letting the younger staff take up the space at the front of the roped off section, sliding himself inbetween Dana and Jack. 

“You know much of her music?” Dana asks. 

Robby shrugs. “Yeah, a few songs.”

The ones about him.

“What about you, hotshot?”

Jack doesn’t even pretend. “Oh yeah, all of it.”

Robby laughs, loudly. “You a big fan?”

“Absolutely,” Jack confirms. “My niece got me hooked.”

Robby feels warmth in his chest, the idea of his closest friend listening to your songs that you had written about him making his brain go fuzzy for a second. 

The group is treated with VIP service - drinks, food, professional photos. Robby finds himself roped into a few shots with various groups, and doesn’t miss the way your photographer keeps smirking when he is. She knows exactly who he is, of course, but doesn’t say a single word. Your head of security, West, is standing directly in front of their section, his lips pursed in an efforts to not smile. Robby focuses on his staff, all chattering amongst themselves, the energy getting more and more chaotic as the stadium fills up. 

When the lights go down, the room erupts. Screaming, crying, incoherent declarations of love - they all morph together. Robby’s eyes land on the centre stage, knowing exactly where you’’ll be when the stage lights come on. The platform rises into place, the opening song starts-

And there you are. 

You’re wearing a blood red bodysuit with matching red GoGo boots. The makeup is a bit more subdued than usual, but your hair is curly and bouncing as you move, pulling the entire look together. Robby recognizes the opening chords of the first song, and the crowd fucking loses it. Their roped off section erupts, excitement pulsing through their veins. Mel is grinning ear to ear, her hands curled into fists and held up to her chin. Trinity screams ‘I fucking love this song!’ directly into Garcia’s face, and the surgeon simply grins. Javadi and Mateo are dancing together, and Robby watches as Javadi pulls Dennis over, forcing him to dance, too. 

His eyes flit back up to you as soon as the lyrics start, watching as you wave to the crowd. Everyone around him starts to sing along, dancing wildly and emphasizing certain lyrics. Robby nods along, admiring your every move as you walk and dance across the stage. The song ends, and the crowd screams. You grin, waving wildly as you skip to the middle of the stage. 

“Pittsburgh!” You yell, making the stadium lose it once again. “I’m so fucking happy to be here. Thank you for having me.”

Your band plays something mindless as you address the audience. 

“I have a few people that I wanted to thank before I get too into things,” You continue. “Two months ago, this city experienced a horrific mass shooting at PittFest. The majority of the victims went to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Centre, where the staff worked tirelessly to save as many lives as possible.”

The vibe in the stadium shifts, quiet now. The crowd lets you speak, and you continue easily. 

“To not only thank them, but honour them, I invited the PTMC staff to attend tonight’s show,” You add. “Specifically, I’d like to thank-”

Names roll off your lips like you’re reading from a script. But you’re not, you’re effortlessly listing the staff that were there that day from memory, clearly having gotten a complete list from Gloria or someone else. He watches the people around him grin as soon as their name is called, one by one. Doctors, nurses, techs, custodial staff - all their names are listed. You don’t miss a single soul. 

“And lastly, Dr. Michael Robinavitch, Chief Attending Physician,” You finish, eyes flicking towards him just for a second. “Thank you all for everything that you do, Pittsburgh is safer with all of you here.”

The stadium explodes again, and people adjacent to their section offer handshakes, shoulder pats, and high fives to those up against the ropes. The next song starts, and everyone jumps back into the music, including Robby. But he can’t ignore the warmth in his chest, and he can’t wipe the smile off his face. 

Eventually, a song starts that Robby isn’t familiar with. Your newest album had mostly escaped him, unfortunately, besides the small snippets you explicitly shared with him. He had been so busy since the release that he hadn’t gotten a chance to properly listen, but clearly he was the only one, since everyone else knows the words. 

Hey, cute jeans

Take mine off me

Oh, golly gee

I can’t take no more

I’m going weak in my knees

Where’d you put those keys?

We can share one seat

We can share one seat

Your dancers move around you, hands falling on various parts of your chest, stomach, and legs. They slowly move along your skin, sensually, and you roll your head back as you sing. Robby’s breath is caught in his throat, the sight making his heart race. 

I think you know what this is

I think you wanna uh

No, you ain’t got no Mrs

Oh, but you got a sports car

We can uh uh in it

While you drive it real far

Yeah, you know what this is

Yeah, you know what this is

Robby has to fight the urge to go slack-jawed, the memory of the day after the wedding he met you at flashing through his mind. 

“Michael,” You greeted, slightly surprised to see someone else standing in the courtyard. It was cold out, since it was the middle of January. The two of you had been briefly introduced the night before until the bride, your cousin, whisked you away shortly after, muttering something about autographs. You had been drawn to the man instantly, every part of you screaming about how hot he was. 

Robby, who had brought Heather as his plus one (for solidarity, if anything), thought he had seen an angel. 

He glanced up, giving you a smile. He said your name, the sound making you feel weak in the knees. 

“Where’s your wife?” You asked, hoping that the stunning woman you had seen him with last night was somehow just a friend. You hadn’t seen a wedding ring, but it didn’t mean that he was single. 

Robby faltered, blinking a few times before replying. “My wife?”

“The woman you came with?” You pushed, trying to act innocent. “Tall, buzzed hair, absolutely stunning?”

Robby hummed in recognition. “Oh, Heather. She’s still sleeping, and we’re not married.” 

You smiled. “Planning on it?”

“Oh, no, no,” Robby countered, shaking his head. “We’re not together. She’s a colleague and good friend.”

“Oh,” You said, eyes lighting up. “I just assumed, figured there was no way you could possibly be single.”

Robby raised an eyebrow. Were you flirting with him? You were at most twenty-five, and Robby was pretty sure you weren’t even that old. But the look on your face confirmed his suspicions, eyes trailing over his face and body before flicking back up to his gaze. Your eyes were stunning, and Robby found himself stuttering over a response. 

“Because I’m so old?” He asked, and you laughed. You placed a hand on his bicep, shaking your head.

“No,” You insisted. “Because you’re fucking handsome. And a doctor, right? I mean, what more could someone want?”

You had confidence in a way that Robby had never seen before, and it made his brain stop working for a second. 

“That’s…very kind,” He said. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” You said, tucking your hands back into your coat pockets. “What brings you out here? Don’t tell me you’re a smoker.”

Robby laughed. “No, I’m not.”

“Good, you’d think doctors of all people would know better,” You said, grinning. “Too loud?”

You tilted your head towards the reception hall, which was filled with hungover guests discussing the details of the night before and making mediocre toasts over brunch. Robby squinted, suddenly feeling all too vulnerable. 

“How’d you know?” He asked. 

You shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

It was silent for a few moments before Robby spoke up. 

“Why’d you come out here?”

“Just…to think. I guess,” You answered, trying not to sound too ominous. “I was actually gonna’ go for a drive.”

“In this weather?” Robby asked, looking up towards the grey sky, small snowflakes landing on his face and sticking to his beard. 

You huffed out a laugh. “Please, I’m Canadian. This is nothing.”

Robby smiled, watching you carefully for a second, thinking about the rest of your answer. 

“Would you want to come?” You offered. “I was gonna’ go get a coffee in town, and I’m a very good driver. I swear.”

Against his better judgement, he agreed. 

“I just need to grab something from my car,” He said, diverting as you got to the parking lot. You stood by the driver’s side of your car, arms folded over your chest as you watched him approach a very practical SUV. He jogged over to you, holding up a pair of gloves. 

“I thought you’d have a sports car, or something,” You said. 

“Why would you think that?” He asked, tugging the gloves over his freezing hands. 

“You’re a doctor, don’t you make like, a billion dollars a year?”

Robby laughed, and you smiled. 

“Yeah, not quite,” He admitted. “But…I do have a sports car. Figured a drive to a remote hotel in the snowy countryside wasn’t the best time to bring it out.”

You hummed. “Very sexy, Doctor.”

The second verse brings him back into the present, trying to ignore the rest of that memory in an effort to not get fucking hard in the middle of a stadium. 

Pretty blue streetlights

Your deep brown eyes

And if it feels right

We could go again like three, four times

So my type

Got butterflies

So good it hurts

Thinkin' 'bout what we did before this verse

You slowly sink to your knees, hand running from your collarbone down to your thigh. You go through the floor choreography with ease as you sing the chorus, and everyone goes fucking crazy. Samira’s hair is wild as she shakes her head from side to side, and Jack moves to dance with her. His hands land on her hips, lips coming up beside her ear. She turns around, mouthing the words to him, making Robby’s eyes widen. Dana laughs beside him. 

“That’s one way to hard launch,” She says. 

“Who taught you that?” Robby asks, a laugh escaping his throat. 

“My daughter,” She answers, frowning. “God, she is rubbing off on me.”

When Robby refocuses on you, you’re already looking at him, a sultry smile on your face. As soon as he makes eye contact you look away, hitting the finishing pose as the song ends. Robby cheers, clapping, pride threatening to swallow him whole. He ignores the thoughts of all the times you have, in fact, uh uh-ed in his sports car. 

The end of the concert comes an hour and a half later, much to the protest of everyone in the room. 

“Pittsburgh, I love you,” You say, breathing heavily. “I’ll see you soon. Goodnight!”

The lights go dark, and you disappear along with them. Everyone around him is grinning when the overhead lights turn on, illuminating the whole room and bringing them back to reality. They’re about to head out, but West approaches them, his eyes landing on Robby. 

“Follow me, please.”

The group exchanges a few confused glances, but they follow the man anyway. Robby trails near the back, beside Frank and Mel. West guides them through a series of hallways, then up a staircase, then through more hallways. People walk past them, not even sparing them a second glance as they move. 

West opens a door, revealing the green room. You stand with your manager, holding your water bottle and listening intently as she talks to you. Your eyes flit to West, a grin covering your face as you make your way over. Your bodysuit is covered by a red satin robe, but you’re still wearing the red boots. 

“Hi,” You say, acknowledging the slightly stunned group. “Come in, come in.”

They make their way inside, and the shock wears off quickly. Mel is the first to move, outstretching her hand and shaking your’s as she introduces herself. You say your name, your real name, and Dana pauses, looking at Robby. 

“Michael fucking Robinavitch,” She says, quietly, smacking his arm. 

He doesn’t say anything in response, just laughs softly and refocuses on you. Victoria and Mateo are talking to you now, with Trinity and Dennis not far behind. 

You give them all a tour of backstage, answering various questions and sharing anecdotes as you walk. When you make it back to the green room, you glance at Robby, almost as if you’re asking for permission. He nods. 

“Okay, my favourite bar is just around the corner and has the best fucking nachos,” You say, gaining everyone’s attention. “Drinks on me.”

Your security detail handles the logistics while you change into normal clothes, removing your makeup and tying the top half of your hair into a bun. You slip out of the green room with your manager, wearing jeans, a black hoodies and white sneakers. Those who don’t have work in the morning, or are willing to suffer through it, are waiting in the hallway, chatting amongst themselves. 

Robby makes the first move, surprisingly. It’s subtle, but there.

“No jacket?” He asks. 

“It’s thirty seconds away,” You counter. 

“It’s no use,” Your manager says, like you’re an unruly toddler. “She likes to freeze.”

They’re at the bar in under a minute, just like you promised. It’s packed, but no one bats an eye as you walk in. Still, West and Tori stay alert, practically glued to your side as you find an empty booth. Robby quickly realizes that you’re putting the ball in his court, not making a single move that might suggest that you already know each other. 

You end up between Frank and Trinity on the opposite side of the booth from him, striking up conversation easily. You ask them about medical school, what drew them to emergency medicine, and more. Other people chime in, and soon enough everyone is comfortable and warm and slightly buzzed. Drinks keep flowing, various food items come and go, and eventually someone suggests clubbing.

“That’s my cue,” Dana says, standing up and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “You kids have fun.”

A few people follow, and Robby suddenly feels very out of place. It would be inappropriate for him to go clubbing with the group that remains, and the thought is reinforced when Jack stands up as well, Samira at his side. 

“Coming, brother?”

Robby frowns, and you snap your head up, watching him stand and shuffle out of the booth. All you want to do is dance, and you’re having a great time with his colleagues. But all of this is starting to feel like some sort of ruse, and you wonder if it’s strange to get drunk with his subordinates, especially while they have no idea about your relationship. Not that you would ever share anything that occurred with Robby, but it still feels like an invasion of privacy. Others start to move, pulling on jackets and hats and debating which club to go to. 

Robby catches your arm as you stand, making your breath hitch in your throat. Jack and Samira are the only two who catch it, confusion evident on their faces. He holds his coat up, and you smile, turning around and letting him loop it over your shoulders. The location debate dies instantly, silence encompassing the entire group as they witness the interaction. Robby ignores them, just looking at you. 

“Text me if you need a ride?” He asks, brown eyes soft. 

You nod. “Thank you.”

“Be safe, please,” He continues, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Love you.”

“I will,” You promise. “I love you.”

He turns, patting Jack on the shoulder. He’s absolutely dumbfounded, as is everyone else, but he follows Robby out of the bar without a single word. Samira goes with them, her hand gripping Jack’s like her life depends on it. You take a deep breath, turning to everyone else.