#samira

baran, at first, had found her a little impulsive, undisciplined—reckless, during her worst moments. but, as the weeks and then months wore on, trinity seemed to soften. baran knows that part of it is, if she's being honest with herself, the much less toxic environment left in the wake of both robby's absence and her own competent leadership. she also knows that part of it is that she steadily, slowly, has mostly gained santos' trust. baran prides herself in being able to meet her residents where they're at so that they grow into their abilities. santos was, even on that first day, incredibly talented, that much was clear. she was ahead of her peers in technique, knowledge, guts—which baran has come to appreciate and even count on. what she needed was time and space and simple, straightforward feedback, presented without recourse. santos is sometimes still struggles with her charting, and she's not all that infrequently still rude to a certain demographic of patients—not that baran particularly disagrees, if she was a drink or two in—but she's improving steadily.

baran recognizes layers of protection in both of them: when pushed far enough, samira isn't always generous, isn't always kind. she's angry at a lot of things—racial disparities in medicine, the way she's been treated as a young, queer south asian woman doctor, the overall state of the world—and baran watches it simmer most days. where samira has limits—most of which are professionally appropriate, at least—to expressing her anger, trinity seems to have… none. but baran sees this for what it is too: a shield, armor to protect her from things that have hurt her in the past. she's not particularly subtle: trinty has a difficult time being objective when children show signs of abuse and when it's clear that queer patients have been discarded by physicans in the past. there's an underlying kindness in trinity that baran hopes she can foster, encourage, frame as something just as worthwhile as her anger—particularly because trinity shows such rare aptitude in pediatric emergency medicine.

trinity santos is also objectively very, very funny. a lot of it is intentional: she's quick-witted, always willing to crack a joke, but she is also, baran thinks, kind of an embarrasing person.

'dr santos,' baran says, walking by the nurses' station where trinity has already stationed herself before rounds, 'a word?'

she doesn't turn around when she hears a whispered fuck from trinity, just continues walking, but she does have to school her face into a serious expression by the time she holds open the door to the stairwell. it's early enough they'll have sufficient privacy.

trinity crosses her arms and cocks a hip; scuffs the toe of her sneaker for a moment before meeting baran's eyes. baran can tell, at this point, when trinity's cagey impulses are driven by anxiety; this is certainly one of those times. still, she'd been a little annoying last shift, whining about having to cover chairs, so baran lets her wait it out for a moment. she has to suppress a laugh when trinity says, 'if this is about the links i emailed you on your day off, my bad. i just think it's important to understand the overall negative impact of generative AI, and i had eaten an edible—wait, forget that part.'

baran nods sagely and lets her continue, just for her own enjoyment. if she's going to be a good mentor—which she is very much committed to—she needs fun every now and again, even if it is, briefly, at trinity's expense.

'well, anyway…' santos trails off, 'it just matters to me, is all. and i think i've been going faster charting? my patient satisfaction scores are up, and i haven't been so behind all day, which i think is helping. and dictation, too.' she takes a deep breath. 'so, uh, yeah.'

'your charting has steadily been improving. it's not a concern of mine anymore,' baran reassures. 'and i was spending time with my son yesterday, but i'll look through the articles this weekend.'

'oh. huh,' santos says. she lets her arms loosen, shoving them into the pockets of her fleece. predictable. 'i mean, you don't have to.'

'i will,' baran says. 'i value your opinion, especially on something you feel passionately about.'

'cool.'

'and i have noticed your patient interactions are improving, which is reflected in your scores. your pacing and tone are both much better.'

trinity's face lights up, just for a moment, at the praise, before she works to turn her expression serious again. 'thanks.'

'it seems your scores are especially good when dr mohan is your senior resident.'

it produces the reaction baran had been hoping for: trinity immediately turns bright red, flushed all the way down her chest. 'well, samira is, like, the best. genuinely i think she has more patience than anyone else on the planet.'

baran doesn't miss the way trinity's voice softens, just like she hasn't missed samira's general upbeat disposition lately, or the hickey that she'd tried, almost successfully, to hide beneath her undershirt last week. baran hasn't missed how samira has improved as well: she gets through patient histories more quickly, trusts herself more with urgent decisions—both things that come naturally to trinity. baran certainly hadn't missed the way samira had easily calmed trinity down with a gentle hand to her arm and a deep breath together after a case with a teenage girl had gone sideways last week, how they walked out together to trinity's car at the end of the shift.

'samira is a gifted physician, especially with patient care,' baran agrees.

'yeah, but… okay. what's up, then?'

baran composes herself as best she can, but she has to smile when she points to the fleece trinity is wearing, which, notably, has a very neatly samira mohan, md embroidered on the right side, ptmc emergency medicine stitched below. 'it seems you picked up the wrong jacket this morning.'

the brief look of horror on trinity's face is priceless, second only to the way she takes the jacket off as quickly as she can the next moment. she's a little clumsy in her haste, the jacket getting stuck on one hand before she finally manages to rip it off, cursing under her breath. 'it must've grabbed it by mistake in the locker room.'

'dr mohan isn't scheduled to work today.'

trinity fiddles with the fabric bunched in her hands, clenches her jaw, and then sighs. she stares at a spot behind baran's head when she says, 'okay, please don't get me in trouble with HR. samira and i have just… figured things out—like, two days ago, and we were going to file paperwork next week and tell you together.'

'okay.'

trinity doesn't seem to hear her, a little panicked. 'i swear i'm not trying to mess anything up, or distract samira, or impact my own career negatively. i'm serious about being a really good doctor and i'm serious about… her. so it's fine if you don't want us on cases together anymore, i can handle that.'

'dr santos.'

'i don't even know what i'm doing, honestly. like, i've been going to therapy, which i know you told me i had to, but i really have been! i just, you know, didn't expect to actually have feelings for anyone at work, let alone samira. not that she's not, like, totally brilliant and gorgeous and funny, just that—i don't know, i'm a mess! and she's also so weird, but—'

'trinity.'

her first name finally stops her frantic ramble. she screws up her face for a moment and then makes eye contact. 'right. sorry.'

'it's all right.'

trinity lets out a big breath.

'mostly, i just wanted to tell you about the jacket before anyone else noticed. you know how the rumor mill is around here.' baran doesn't mention how she's fairly certain princess and perlah know, which inevitably means so does dana; she's sure that whitaker has had a front row seat to the entire thing, which means that javadi and mel have to be at least somewhat aware.

'yeah.' trinity grimaces. 'well, i guess word will get out soon enough now that we're—'

she blushes all over again. baran allows herself a smile, this time. '—together?'

baran can tell how hard trinity works to not beam when she says it. 'yeah.'

'it's good you're going through the proper channels with HR,' baran acknowledges. 'although i expected nothing less from samira.'

trinity's bashful smile turns into a grin, then a good, hearty laugh. 'what, i don't give the impression of someone who loves rules and bureaucracy?'

'be careful, your shift has just started.'

'yeah, yeah.'

'well, let's get back to it then, yes?' baran looks at her watch. 'we have rounds in four minutes.'

'copy that.'

trinity steadies herself and starts to head to back to the door. baran has known her long enough to understand that, while trinity is confident in a fair amount of her abilities and knowledge, so much of trinity's bravado—much like her sarcasm—is protective armor. baran is, suddenly, moved by the fact that samira, one of her very favorite mentees of her career so far, had pushed past it. baran has seen how fiercely protective trinity is once she cares about someone—her patients, her friends. samira can advocate for herself, she always has, but baran knows the relief—the love—that can wash over you when someone helps. when you don't have to carry everything alone.

'dr santos?'

trinity turns back, eyes wide. 'hmm?'

'for what it's worth, i'm very happy for you both.'

trinity's whole posture softens. 'that's—yeah. thank you, dr al-hashimi.'

baran remembers their third shift together—the second after robby had taken his leave. trinity had caught her early, while it was still quiet. she had cleared her throat and scratched at the back of her neck but then asked, sincerely, how to actually pronounce baran's last name. all the white people here say my last name wrong, she had said, shrugging like it was no big deal. fate worse than death if i do it too, honestly. baran had humored her with a smile, even though it was serious—even though it meant a lot. she had said her full name aloud as it was supposed to be, and trinity had nodded and repeated it once, just to be sure. she hasn't said it wrong, not once, in the months since.

baran nods. 'alright, let's hope for something interesting today, yes?'