#pediatrician

You’d ask for help, but almost everyone's been called to trauma 1 & 2 for two full-thickness, or third and fourth degree burns from an arson. Honestly, “it could be much worse,” you whisper as motivation to yourself as you decide picking him up is futile and just roll him over, putting a small chunk of ribbon gauze into his nostrils. You sit yourself just above his legs as an attempt to block another run off if he wakes up. 

A familiar ginger-haired figure walks by and then circles back to the messy scene, and before you even manage to open your mouth to say anything, you hear the words. “I’ll get some help.”

“Thank you, lena” You sigh as she runs off, and two seconds later, you see the security approach. “Sorry, just need help getting him back into the behavioural room.”

He nods as he crouches down to the guy and makes a face at the blood before hooking his arms under and getting ready to lift. Then you hear another voice from behind you, a familiar one you’ve been trying to avoid all shift, mainly because wet panties make an easy distraction at important moments. 

“You feel like getting up so we can carry him back?” The sarcastic tone you recognised and loved went through your spine and down to somewhere you really wish it didn't as you turned your head around to meet the eyes of your attending. Those beautiful hazel eyes. 

“Of course, sorry.” You mutter quickly as you climb off and stand beside the patient as Abbot and security lift him off the ground and guide him back into the behavioural room. You follow beside them, trying to keep from slipping on the blood the man's nose was leaving.

“y’know you could've stayed on, got a free ride.” Abbott teases as he places him down on the bed. 

“Didn’t wanna slow the journey down.” You reply curtly as you pinch the bridge of the man's nose, eyes watching the security guy saunter out back to his space. Abbot stands at the patient's feet, watching your careful fingers and the faces you make to yourself when your blood-stopping technique decides tonight isn't gonna work for them, you try not to stare back.

“I'm not weak enough for you to slow me down.” He partly mutters to himself as he continues to watch you, now drawing the ribbon gauze out of his nose and checking his head for visible injuries. Good thing he had a buzz, made life easier for you. Abbot pulls out a chair from the corridor and sits down next to you. You glance at him in slight confusion, but try to continue anyway, trying to ignore the woody scent of his aftershave as he crosses his arms. And the way his arms flex at the movement. “What happened?”

“I came in to give him his meds, charged at me the moment I opened the door and bolted.” You reply as you decide that the patient is fine and stand up to give him his meds through a shot instead of the pills he probably would’ve preferred. Abbot's eyes follow you, carefully, watching your torso in the baby pink scrubs they still hadn’t replaced with the ER’s signature grey for you.

“You hurt?” 

“Little head bump on the door frame, otherwise I'm fine.” You reply as you gently press down on the syringe. You glance back at him, your little earrings rattling softly in the room's quiet air. Quiet if you ignore the corridors' unsoothing ambience. “Shouldn’t you be with the burns in trauma?”

“Walsh has got it. We established them early on; there's no ducklings tonight either. I'm not worried.” Abbot replies quietly as he watches you laugh at his referral to the med students as ducklings, and as you throw the syringe in the bin. “Hit your head?”

“Little bump.” You repeat as you shrug at him, trying to ignore how he was seated perfectly in front of your chest and trying not to remember that you wore the thin fabric bralette instead of your regular support ones, and that it was cold. And that he was intimidating you in a way you wanted more of.  In a way that drew something carnal out of you, something that just made you wanna f- no stop, that's inappropriate. You mentally chide yourself and take a deep breath.

“Let me see”

“It's not bad, honestly.”

“Work policy, little lady. Can’t have any injuries left unchecked”

You sigh as you swap places with him and sit as he checks your head for any bumps or bruises. You can feel your heart beating as he inches closer, breathing softly down your neck as he parts your hair. The heat on your ears and the red on your face are obvious to you; you press your cold fingers against them in an effort to calm them down.

“Thank you,” you mutter half reluctantly, “But its really not that bad.”

“Take five anyway, just in case.” He speaks softly next to your ear, and you can feel his breath on you, can smell his seasoned aftershave again. Gods, does he know what he's doing? “Work policy,” he adds on quickly with a smirk, knowing you would’ve argued against it otherwise.

You want to reply, but as you stand, you hear the familiar voice of Dr. ellis asking for him and replies as he quickly follows behind, tapping his fingers on the door frame as he walks past. You begin to walk out, sighing a breath of both relief and exhaustion as you leave, but then the familiar, enchanting face of Dr Abbot reappears, and you jump. 

“Did you really have to sit on him?” He asks playfully with a tip of his head to the side as he takes something from the cart next to you, glancing back at you. Searching your face like he’s going to forget it, and then matching your eyes with his

You laugh, slightly nervous, snorting slightly and quickly covering the lower half of your face with your fingertips, painted equally as pink to your scrubs. “No, I guess not. But better safe than sorry.”

“Ain’t that right,” he replies with a small, breathy laugh as he rushes back off to wherever Dr Ellis called. You watch him leave before you wander off to the bathroom in chairs. Yes, you know there was one within the ER, but the one in chairs had better mirrors, and a counter for you to lean on while you tried not to fall asleep when washing your hands with the sorely missed warm water.

—

The only downside to this bathroom was that it was the exact opposite of peaceful. You had to wander through five different stalls to find one without piss on the seat or the toilet roll having little blood splotches from a user wiping their needle. You know it's hard, but at a hospital? Really? You sigh as you untie your scrubs' waistband and pull them down, trying not to look at the glistening shine on your navy blue panties. Instead, you decide to just sit on the toilet and take a breather. Which of course doesn’t last long as you hear a suspicious shuffling and a few baby gurgles. 

You forgot how much you missed the little, cute sounds of babies; at least they didn’t need to be tackled to the ground. But they did cry, like a lot. Sometimes for hours. Sometimes the only way to get them to stop was something ridiculous, like hanging a wire in front of their face or just plain and simple skin-to-skin. Skin to skin. There are a few ways you’d like to be skin to skin right now, specifically with Abbot. His coarse hands on you, tracing your circles and lines. Making babies of your own.

Okay, no way. Stop it. That’s weird. 

But you really wouldn't mind it, and you really wouldn’t mind sitting with him, watching him with a baby in his arms. With your baby in his arms. With his baby in his arms. 

Stop it, you’re getting sidetracked again. You groan and stand up, sliding your scrubs over your hips and tying the waistband as the toilet flushes. You open the door, and a smaller dishevelled woman is staring at you like she's been caught doing something. Shocked to see you. You glance down at her muddy and broken jeans, her thin top, then at her hands and the baby in them as she places it down on the changing table. Perhaps you startled her. You smile at her curtly as you walk past to wash your hands.

You press down on the timed taps a couple of times and sigh heavily to yourselves as you enjoy the feeling of warm water. A comfort from the ER’s cold climate. Back at peds, it was always kept warm. You are almost lost in thought when someone taps your shoulder, you look back and see it's the woman. 

She looks at you nervously as you watch her features contort, her soft features, almost adolescent-like. Her voice is meek when she speaks. “Sorry, I’ve uh, I've left the baby bag in the waiting room, can you watch her please? I’ll only be a minute” 

You smile at her as you turn around, “Of course I can.” 

The woman nods quietly as she leaves, and you walk over to her baby on the changing table. The baby coos at you but fusses slightly when your wet hands reach her skin. You talk to her in that classic baby voice and try to distract her from her mummy stepping out. She grabs onto your thin silver watch. The time reads 1:34. The clocks have gone back already. Only another 6 hours to go then. 

A couple of minutes pass, and Mama isn't back. Baby isn’t fussing around so much, and you watch her quietly. She isn’t much different to other babies, but she sure is small. You wonder just how old she is, and why she's in the ER in the first place. Should you do an exam? Save them some time. Obviously, you’re only a nurse and can't fully diagnose anything, but it couldn’t hurt. You glance around the bathroom quickly. Nobody's here. 

You roll your extra shirt's sleeves up and gently roll the baby over. She fusses and begins to sniffle as you run your hands along her spine and sides, prodding her ever so gently. You quietly shush her, “I'm sorry, baby, don’t cry, please.”

You finish her back quickly and move onto her legs. It's at this point that you realise she really is small. Too small infact. And suddenly you don’t like where your mind is going. You check your watch again, the time reads 1;42. That’s 8 minutes more than mama said she’d be. You try not to panic. Maybe Mama just lost her bag. But… If you get to 15 minutes, you decide it's better to assume the worst. 

And it gets to 16 minutes later the next time you check your watch, and you feel a pit in your stomach. The baby fusses as you slowly draw away from her and sigh. You look around, nothing to wrap her in, left here in not even a diaper. You purse your lips and then quickly pull off your scrub top, and then your new white, cotton undershirt. You spent $20 on that, so you’re kinda sad to see it go, but your scrub top isn't gonna be pleasant for baby. You quickly lift the baby up to wrap her in it when you hear footsteps.

“Nurse, y/n, you in here?” The voice was Dr Ellis’. She steps in, and you glance back at her, noting her confused face seeing you with your shirt off. “Got something on you? I can grab you new scrubs if you can't go back out...” Her words trail off as she steps closer.

“Dr Ellis, meet baby Jane Doe.” 

“I'll get Abbot, you bring her in.” Dr Ellis sighs as she steps out, obviously not excited for anything that's going to come from this. You nod and quickly wrap up Jane Doe, then put your own top on before anyone else sees you in your bralette. You scoop up the baby and hold her close to you as you wander in slowly, trying not to stir her.

You head straight for the pedes room, and you see Abbot jogging across the north bay to meet you. He holds the door open and looks at the tiny baby in your arms pitifully as you walk past. 

“Any explanation?”

“Mom asked me to watch her because she left the baby bag in the chairs. Ten minutes later, I started getting suspicious and did a small exam, reached 15, and mom still wasn't back, so I called it.” You explain carefully as you set the baby down, and you and Jack both reach to perform a proper check. Your hands brush past each other, and you quickly draw them back, blushing. He smiles softly, but you figure it's at baby Jane Doe and not you, getting nervous like a little schoolgirl. 

You watch him check the baby as you grab a thermometer and a blanket so you can get your top back. “Mom left her completely naked. I gave her my top to keep her warm, but because she's so small, we might need preemies for everything.”

“Good thing it was you who found her,” Jack replies as he steps back and lets you wrap her up and take your top back. “Any guesses on age?” 

“From her size and the way she interacts, I'd say under three months, but I can't tell if she's a preemie or malnourished.” You speak naturally now, all that charm of abbots no longer distracting you. Nothing can distract you when you’re in the zone. 

“Good work, kid”, Jack mutters softly as he crosses his arms, his biceps flexing as he watches you closely and allows you to work on her. Technically,  he’s the one who needs to take the official exam, but his supervision works too. “So I shouldn’t send out a notice to look for mom?” 

“No, under the state of Pennsylvania, child abandonment can only be charged after three months, or if left in unsafe conditions. Left in a hospital with a nurse won’t count.” You reply as you rummage through the drawers of the bassinet to find a nappy for her. Abbot really should be helping. Is he? Not really. He’s just watching you, letting you take control right now. “I’d recommend you order a tox screen, and a test for HIV, Hep strains and any other STDS. I hate to say it, but Mom looked both young and a little...” You stop to think of the right way to phrase it. That look someone has when the drugs get to them.

“Deterioriated?” Abbot finishes for you as he types at the computer, and he glances back at you as you frown, trying to figure out when he moved away from you. “When you say young, how young are we talking?”

You go quiet for a minute, and he turns back fully when you don’t respond immediately. “Honestly, my gut tells me she was a teen, but she looked older. So much for better safe than sorry”

“Thinking runaway? Lack of nutrition and hard drugs can age someone. Both of those are especially easy for runaways to get.” His voice is softer now, almost intimate, but you think you're reading too much into it. He always sounds like that when he’s focused, and right now he’s working on a serious case. “Do me a favour, have Lena come and take over, go look into foster care for when the screens come back.”

You nod your head. “Of course.” 

You grab your shirt as you walk out, but you feel a hand pat you on your shoulder as you walk out, and a quiet, soft “good girl” is muttered to you from Abbot without even taking his eyes off the screen where he was drawing up a chart.

You quickly scuffle away to do as you were asked, trying to ignore the lingering feeling of his touch and the way his voice and words made you feel. How your thighs had instinctively tightened together, and your panties were seeping once again. Your face blooms red and your heart quickens. You know what he's doing. He knows what he's doing.  

You find Lena, tell her she’s needed, and you watch her thank you and wander over to pedes. You then sit yourself down to email whatever social worker is on shift and let them know about Baby Jane Doe and have them look into foster care. You glance at the time, 2:04, five hours left, and right now it's technically three am, which means the slump is here. Which can also be characterised by the quiet scuffling of feet around the ER. You decide now's a good time for a break and leg it to the break room before everyone else realises the time. 

When you get there, your favourite (And practically only) attending is already seated with a coffee and a little lunchbox full of something that makes you really wanna ask him to swap with you. You smile at him as he notices you staring and shuffles over to the fridge. You sigh as you have to bend over and search the fridge for your store-bought, fresh microwave pasta and keep muttering to yourself when you can’t find it. 

“You alright there?” You hear a voice call to you as you stand up and turn back to Abbot at the table, who had obviously been watching you look for it, and also probably shamelessly staring at your ass, judging by the way his eyes linger on your hips as you turn around. 

“No, my pasta is gone.” You sigh as you slam the fridge shut and begin to rummage through the cupboards. “I’ve been waiting all shift for that.”

“Hm, what’s it look like?” Abbot hums as he takes a sip of his coffee, eyes flicking between you and his now more noticeably untouched lunch box.

“Uhm, black and white tub, label just said pasta bolognese. It was a fiver because it was from that brand that does all those protein shakes, and I was looking forward to it.” You huff as you run the tap to fill up the kettle.

“Excited for a microwave meal?” He questions sarcastically as he gets up to stand next to you. “Think I saw Matteo with it earlier.”

“The other new nurse? Great.” You huff again, louder this time, as you slam the tap to turn off and flick the kettle lid shut. “Now I’ve gotta live off coffee again.”

Abbot watches you barge things around and laughs to himself before he puts a hand on yours and takes the kettle from you, before you probably throw it against the counter. “Go sit down, have something from my lunch. I haven’t touched it yet, so you can have first pickings.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you hungry, I'd argue an attending needs energy more than a nurse.” You reply, blushing slightly as you let him take the kettle from you and try to ignore his fingers brushing over you and knocking your bracelet.

“Just do it, it's the least I can do after you did Baby Jane Doe for me.” He nods as he gestures for you to sit while he gets out the hazelnut latte packets, which happen to be your favourite at the minute.

“I didn’t do Baby Jane Doe for you, I just helped, that’s my job.” You reply as you open the cutlery drawer. 

“I let you do it for me because I knew you had it, that's you doing it for me.” He watches you open the drawer, admiring you as he rips the coffee packet open with his teeth. “Even if you call it helping.”

“Don't worry about it, that's literally my job.”

“Technically, that part of it was mine.” He replies to you again as he pours the packet out and then reaches for the milk and creamer in the fridge. He glances back and sees you sitting in his previous seat, opening his lunch and carefully taking a small bit of the salmon and whatever else into your mouth. “Don’t be stingy with it, eat as much as you want.”

“I'm not being stingy, I'm savouring it. It’s just been a while since I've had a home-cooked meal. I don’t have much time to cook anymore.” You watch him pour the boiled water in, and then a creamer and a dash of milk. You literally want to fuck him right there for getting it right the way you like. 

“I cook.” He speaks softly as he lays down the coffee in front of you, and you instantly reach for it and blow on it gently. He picks up your fork, uses it to have some of the meal out of the lunch. You try not to watch the way his lips wrap around it, or the way he stares at you while he does it, or focus on the fact that it’s basically an indirect kiss. 

“You mean your wife cooks for you?” You chuckle as you take a sip of the coffee after deciding it's cooled enough.

“No, no wife here.” He chuckles as he takes another bite before leaving the fork for you. 

“I'm surprised a guy like you is single at your age. Good single men are a commodity, according to my mum.” You reply teasing him, comparing him to your mother's age, knowing full well she is at least a decade older than him.

“Ah, well, the ladies at Friday night bingo don't excite me much.” He replies sarcastically with a smirk on his thin lips before he takes a sip of his own black coffee.

“So what excites you then?” You have no idea why you’ve asked your superior that. Cheeky in the heat of the moment, you suppose. You sit waiting for his response nervously, hoping you didn’t just cross some sort of boundary as his eyes trail all over you. Trying not to squirm. 

A full moment of that continues before he replies, “usually viagra.”

You can't help but laugh obnoxiously loud and throw your head down at that. He perks up slightly, having not expected that response from you, but you hadn’t expected that response from him either.

“Seriously?”

“Of course not, I’m not that old.”

“Hard to tell sometimes.” You tease as you take another sip, and he takes another bite, you're practically swapping spit at this point. May as well do it for real. 

“Right, okay. I see how it is, I'll be having my lunch back then.” He replies, feigning offence as he pulls the lunchbox closer to him.

“Wait, no, please, it was really good.” You plead as you quickly reach out to pull it back, not realising you’ve grabbed his hand instead. Your pouting lips quickly purse as you pull yourself back when you realise, and you mutter a small apology.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, go on.” His voice is soft as he nudges the container back to you, and you take a bite, trying your hardest not to look him in the eyes again. This is like the sweetest torture that could be offered. Sweetheart? You wish you were really his sweetheart. The room goes quiet as he sips his coffee, watching you again quietly. 

A few quiet minutes pass before Dr Shen walks in to refill his Dunkin cup as he hums to himself, blissfully unaware of the two on the table. When he turns around to leave, he glances between your red cheeks and Abbot’s smirk but decides against mentioning it. He does, however, speak to you both. “Got our tox screen on baby jane back, positive for methamphetamines and ketamine, amongst some other stuff like nicotine.”

You and Abbot exchange a glance at each other before he fully turns to you. “You hear anything about foster yet?”

You shake your head as you finish your bite of food. “Yeah, but they won’t accept a baby positive for hard drugs until they're sure they’ve been clean for at least three months. No point contacting them now.”

Both Abbot and Shen look at you, confused. “When did they bring that in?”

“February, they said it helps to keep foster parents from fostering and then being accused of giving the babies drugs and getting a record when in reality the babies came to them intoxicated. Apparently, it’s more common than we think.”

Abbot nods his head side to side before he speaks again. “Looks like baby Jane is staying with us a little longer than we’d like. Shen, can you or Ellis run a few more panels for..”

You zone out listening to the doctor stuff, you’re more focused on the bob of Abbott's throat, and the flex of his arms as he shifts around. Just naturally being defined and muscular. The way his gaze is strengthened onto Shen as he nods along, sipping from that cup of his. You come out of it when you hear your name from those heavenly lips.

“Y/n, can you call up pedes, see when the soonest they can take her is?” Abbot turns his attention to you as Shen leaves the room, sipping obnoxiously.

“Of course I’ll do it now. Thanks for dinner.” You oblige as you get up to leave, to call pedes and get back to work.

“Anytime,” Abbot murmurs to you as he watches you leave, both the room, him and your top. 

—

“Yes i understand, don’t worry.” You nod despite the voice not being able to see.

“No i know, I miss being up there too” You chuckle to the voice on the phone.

“Well, thanks anyway.” You sigh as you set the phone down and notice Abbot and Ellis hauling a patient bed past you, presumably some sort of drunk fight, as the clubs all start to close around now. 

“Any luck on Baby Jane?” Abbot calls as he hauls the bed up to the nurse's desk, and pulls his head in a gesture for you to help.

You quickly jog behind them to catch up as they take the patient into trauma one and begin to work on him and his bleeding head. “Unfortunately, not, pedes is overrun at the moment. Apparently, there was a leak in one of the nurseries, and they’ve had to move everyone to the same rooms.”

Abbot groans at your words as he shuffles around Ellis and hands you an IV to install “You try family med?”

“Won’t answer the phone.”

“Of course, Gynocology?”

“That's for usually adult women and their reproductive system, not the result of reproduction, so no.” 

He chuckles at your response and shakes his head as he grabs an electric razor to shave the hair in the way of the laceration. “What about L and D? They feeling generous?”

“Can’t take baby without mom,” You reply as you go to assist him after getting the IV in. Dr Ellis glances at you two as she hands the gauze to you.

“Great. We’ll figure it out after this.” He mutters to you as he glances at you, as he clears the bleed and picks up a scalpel.

“Get ready to clear the blood.”

“Got it.” You nod and watch his steady hands. Wishing they would linger on your skin right now. 

–

Eventually, you find yourself in chairs once again. You look amongst the small crowd, which was mostly those asleep in their chairs waiting for treatment. You glance at Lupe, who shrugs. You wander over to her and rest your elbows on the counter as you lean in to talk to her. “Anything easy? I need a pick-me-up.”

“Not really, there's a Mr Peralta who took a nasty fall on a job, hit his head.”

“Construction?”

“Police.”

You grimace and shake your head. “I'm alright, where there's one there’s ten.”

Lupe chuckles and continues pointing out people and their issues. Nothing easy. Nothing you can be bothered with. At 3:45, you really don’t want to do anything strenuous. You sigh and decide that right now is the perfect opportunity for a break. And gossip.  “You hear Langdon’s back next week?”

“I heard, yknow…”

You and Lupe are chatting for a good ten minutes before you see someone lean down next to you, elbows on the counter and everything and hear that familiar voice once more. “What’s the gossip?”

“Dr Abbot, what a surprise!” You exclaim quietly as you stand up straight, and Lupe laughs behind the counter as she turns away and pretends to be tapping away on her computer.

He chuckles as he stands back up and watches you carefully with the same old smile and eyes he always has when facing you. The sweet kind that you notice becomes drawn out the later it gets. “Seriously, what’s the gossip?”

“No gossip, just personal stuff.”

He gives you a knowing look and smiles wider. “Whatever you say, come do rounds with me.” 

“Yessir.” Your reply and grin when he turns back to glance at you with a raised brow.

“Sir, now is it?” He mutters as you two walk between the aisles, checking on people waiting and looking for someone conscious enough to bring in. You naturally steer him away from the cop as you walk with him. 

“What, think it makes you sound old?” You tease as you crouch down to check on someone with an ice pack on their face. Just a nasty bruise, he can go through for a nurse to check on him. Abbot watches you crouch, mainly watching your ass plum as you crouch. He chuckles before he responds.  

“Gotta think of something better than me being old,” he ticks his head with a grin as you two continue.

“Well, the leg’s always an option, but that feels mean.” You mutter as you jog to catch up with him. 

“Well, that’s just not fair, I can’t go for your legs then.” He teases as he slows his pace through the emptying chairs, as you begin to reach the back of the waiting room.

“Well, why not? I'm sure you could think of something.”

“‘Cuz I can’t insult someone with legs like yours, too sexy,” he teases, mock biting at you with a grin as he watches your expression change and your face change colour. 

You laugh abruptly at his blunt remark, and you slow your pace too in an effort to hide the growing and recurring red that paints your face. He chuckles to himself like he's proud and slips his hands into his pockets.

“Seriously?”

“Well, I can't actually tell with the scrubs on, I might have to take them off.” He grins wide as he turns 180 to face you, watch you become a new shade of crimson and figure out how to reply.

You want to stutter out a weak reply, but unfortunately, something else catches your attention. Another baby was sleeping on the chairs, covered in a black blanket. You sigh, and Abbot catches your lilt and glances back behind him. His face falls when he notices it too. He walks over to the sleeping baby, and now you can see more clearly the tear marks streaming down their face as they fuss in Jack’s arms. You watch them pitifully as you get closer; this one was certainly not in the three-month range.

“They’re heavy,” Abbot mentions quietly, trying to bring your attention to something other than the fact that makes two in one night.

“Yeah.. which means we gotta put out a call for mom.” You mutter as you gesture to take the baby, and Abbot nods obediently as he hands you the baby. Your arms drop slightly as you take the baby, definitely heavy.  Yet he made it seem like they weighed nothing at all. You wonder how hard it would be for him to pick you up.  “What are the chances this baby is  baby janes sibling?”

Abbot hums as he watches the baby lie against your chest. His eyes narrow as he watches them and listens to your words. “Not sure, ask around about mom first.”

You nod and head over to Lupe, who frowns and immediately turns on the intercom. 

“If anyone had lost their child, approximately 7 or 8 months, with a black blanket and a yellow one-piece, please come to reception,” Lupe repeats it three times, and you wait patiently. Five minutes pass, and she repeats it. Five minutes later, and nobody's there. 

Abbot opens the doors to the ER and gestures for you to come inside. You follow frowning as you navigate the halls, which are picking up again. This time with the drunks and car accidents of the early morning. You follow Abbot back to pedes and place the baby down in another bassinet next to Baby Jane Doe.

“Place your bets, another Jane, or a John?” He nudges you out of your concentration as he removes the blanket so he can examine them.

You don’t reply at first, when he takes off the nappy and the baby decides now is the perfect time to wee, you can't help but laugh as Jack finds himself wet. Not in the way he would like.  “Definitely a John Doe then.” You mutter with a cheesy smile on your face as Jack sighs heavily. “I’ll get you some scrubs.”

“No, it's okay, I can do it,” Abbot mutters as he walks out of the room, dripping in baby piss. 

You chuckle softly to yourself as you take his place and tend to baby John Doe. Doing the usual checks, legs, arms, skin colour, etc. When you’re done with that, you check on baby Jane. And wouldn’t you know it, the moment she sees you, she fusses. You laugh and scoop her up into your arms, cooing softly at her. But she doesn’t stop, and her fussing quickly turns into crying. You try to calm her down, bouncing her gently as you attempt to fix up a formula bottle for her. 

You offer her the nozzle, but she won't take it. No matter which way you offer it. Usually, the only way left to try to get them to feed was skin to skin. Which would be done in a room with mom. Baby Jane Doe had no mom, and the ER wasn’t really a private space. Yet.. What choice did you have? You sigh as you quickly pull a chair next to her bassinet and shrug off your scrubs. Then you quickly scoop her close, and she slightly settles, before crying again. You offer her the bottle, and by some miracle, she takes it. You sigh a breath of relief and lean back into the chair. 

“How could someone leave such a beautiful baby, hm?” You whisper to her gently as she feeds from the bottle. You take this moment to enjoy the rest from the hectic shift you’ve had today, and a moment to think about what’s always on your mind. Dr Jack Abbot, your quietly seductive Attending. Who offered to take off your scrubs and called your legs sexy. You weren’t quite sure what to do with that, to be honest. You were definitely into him, but was he really into you? Was he just being a tease because he knew, or was he just tired and flirting for fun? Was he actually into you? Did you really wanna find out?

“Sorry ‘bout that, machine wasn’t workin..” Abbot stops as he finishes adjusting his stethoscope and stares at you, feeding the baby in just your bralette. He looks at you, slightly confused, and furrows his brows. “What exactly am I interrupting?”

You chuckle softly as you look at him. “Skin to skin, she wasn’t feeding otherwise.” You shrug as you explain, and he approaches both bassinets and continues his exam on baby John Doe, occasionally looking back at you. “Obviously, no mom, so I figured I’d do it. No one’s around right now anyway.”

“I’m around,” Abbot teases. You laugh quietly.

“That’s okay, you can be around.” You mutter, mostly to yourself, but he hears and smiles like he's just won a raffle prize. 

The room is quiet for a moment, apart from the fussing between the two babies as they feed and get flipped around. “I was thinking,” Jack starts, “You said probably eight months for John here, they can’t be related then, even if Jane's a preemie. She’d have to be at least two months early.”

“You’ve got a point.” You respond, nodding to show you’re listening. 

“Yet, on rare occasions, we’ve had some babies dumped by mums who live or work close together. If we find similar drugs on baby John’s tox screen, you think it’s a good idea to track down Jane’s mom to find his?” Abbot speaks carefully, in that notorious ‘I’ll pay for it’ Voice. Quiet, focused, intimate. Just like he talks you through it. 

Trying your hardest to ignore the way his voice gives you shivers and quivering feelings elsewhere. You think carefully about his question. “If baby Jane’s mom were a young runaway, chances are baby John's is too. They don’t want these babies, don't have funding to support them, and prison would ruin any chance at a life. No matter how sad it is to abandon a child, at least it was here.”

“I agree.” He nods in approval, and you smile curtly as Baby Jane finishes feeding and you stand to put her back in her bassinet. Conveniently, Jack finishes his exam and watches you, and can't help but frown to himself as you put your scrubs back on. He quickly scurries to the computer to start a new chart for baby John. 

You yawn after you finish putting your scrubs back on. He chuckles and glances back at you.

“What’s the time?” You ask quietly, trying not to wake them as you approach him.

“4:50, one hour left.” 

“Thank god, can’t wait to go home and get in bed.” 

“That makes two of us.” 

You glance back at the babies behind you and take a breath. He turns his head with you and then turns himself around fully. “You’re good with them.”

“Well i didn’t go into pedes for no reason.” You mutter softly as you glance at him.

He laughs quietly. “You’re too good, really. Could’ve been a doctor.”

“Mhm, too expensive for me. Nursing’s good enough.” You watch him look back at you, and maybe it's the time, maybe it’s your hormones. Maybe it’s just the fact you’re both tired, but you lean in, and so does he. Your hand is on his chest, and his is on your hip. Yet it doesn’t last long. Shen knocks on the door, on his phone with a dunking donut drink in hand. Luckily, he doesn’t see how you two scramble off each other and just speaks instead.

“Incoming GSW, arrives in triage in ten.” He says as quickly as he appeared and then disappears again.

“Nursing is more than good enough,” Abbot mutters to you, close to your neck, before he follows close behind Dr Shen. 

You frown in disappointment as Dr Ellis passes to join them, but not without looking in at you and laughing first. Your cheeks go red and flush bright as you turn back to the babies. So much for getting lucky. 

—

Time reads 5:58. Your shift finishes in literally thirty seconds. You jog over to the lockers, where there is a surprisingly shirtless Dr Abbot. He glances at you, staring and smirking as he continues getting changed. You shake your head out of your haze and open your locker, crouching next to Abbot. 

“So happy this is over,” you murmur as you pull your coat out of the locker

“You and I both.” He mutters in response as he heaves his bag out of his locker. He turns to face you and watches you sling your handbag over your shoulder. You turn and glance up at him. This time, you see his face flush. “Should let me buy you dinner before you get on your knees for me.” He teases, and you laugh softly.

“How about a drive-through breakfast?” You stand up and begin to walk off, praying he follows.