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Samira grabs the beer that is tossed to her, and needs to sit the fuck down. She's been moving for so long, and her feet are killing her, and really the best option is to collapse into the spot next to Princess.
But Abbot is there, and the spot next to him is taken up by his foot, and she finds herself walking that way.
“Hell of a first day,” she says as she perches on the arm of the bench, just a slim metal bar. It's not comfortable and it's not really taking all that much weight off her feet, but she can feel him next to her.
Maybe she shouldn’t have, but he glances up at her and then looks down to grab the wipes that Princess throws at him.
That's not a dismissal.
The conversation moves along in fits and starts, and at one point they all bubble into laughter, and when she leans over to laugh she's somehow angled herself closer to him and he's somehow pressed his shoulder against her ribs. When she pulls the clip out of her hair, shaking out the tension, Abbot stays right where he is, maybe even leans in against her as she moves against him.
He glances up at her again, has the smallest smile, and then he looks back at Robby to give him shit about something.
Robby leaves, and Mateo and Javadi leave, and she could try to drag this out so it's just the two of them left.
“Did you drive?” Abbot asks as he begins to put his foot back on.
“No, I took the bus.” She nods over in the direction of her stop, out of the park and away from the hospital.
“C'mon, I'll walk you. You look dead on your feet.”
They don't touch, but they walk quietly in the dim lights and she listens to the crunching leaves under their feet.
“You were badass today,” he says, offering another sure and confident little nod.
She'd already tried to deflect that compliment, and he’d already told her to just go with it. So she nods and ducks her head. “It was amazing. Thank you, for-” she sorts through what exactly he did, guiding her through the insane procedure or gently correcting her when she'd made the mistake on 63. “All of it.”
“You see yourself in this for the long haul, yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
This is all she's ever wanted, and she's so close to the finish line of residency.
He sighs and puts his hands behind his head, and when she looks over his scrub top is barely grazing the top of his pants, there's just a hint of skin there, and she shouldn't be looking but he's got muscles, and then when she looks back up at his face he's watching her face with interest before his eyes dart away.
“Sorry,” they both say at once.
He recovers first, and slides his hands back into his pockets. “You're a natural in there. I know, I know, you get shit for taking your time, but when it comes down to it.” He whistles, a long appreciative trill. “You've got the instincts for it.” Abbot reaches out and gently punches a fist into her upper arm. “Gonna knock us all dead.”
Samira blushes, and wonders if there is a world where she could try to pursue something here. He offered to walk her here. He caught her looking and had just smiled, noticed her leaning against him and just leaned closer.
But they're almost at the edge of the park, and across the street is her stop. At the end of the block there's a bus headed for her stop waiting at a red light, giving her just enough time to hustle over there to catch it.
“Is that you?” He asks.
She sighs. She could lie, but then he'd offer to wait with her and he'd know when she got on the next one with the same number. “It is,” she says, defeated. Even as exhausted as she is, as much as she wants to take a shower and eat her premade dinner and collapse into her bed, she wants this moment to stay. “But I could wait for the next one.”
“How long would that be?”
She can feel her cheeks pulling up before she even considers smiling, before it registers that she has a goddamn reason to. “Fifteen minutes, give or take.”
He looks left and right, but they're mostly alone out here. The path to the benches where they'd left Princess and the others winds lazily through the park, so they’re out of sight. The businesses on the street are closing for the night, only a few people spilling out and passing through.
Usually, it was vaguely creepy to be waiting here alone in the dark after a long shift. But now she was so divinely grateful that they were alone and a block from the hospital because whatever he sees when he looks around- just random people, nobody in scrubs- seems satisfactory and he reaches out a hand.
She takes it, and he guides her off the path. There's a little cluster of trees that cast shade from the lamps, enough to hide a person. She would never dream of walking closer to them in the dark, but she can’t see the harm in going if Abbot is the one leading her.
And when's the last time she did something dangerous like this?
“I was thinking,” he says, and then pauses, his mouth doing that deliberation thing he does when he's facing a new case. It makes her stomach flutter that he's giving her and this moment just as much attention and care that he would give a dying patient, an imminent threat. She doesn't try to rush him, just turns to face him once they're both mostly under the dark. “I wanted to kiss you.”
“Still do?” The past tense is- well, this isn't how anyone else has led into kissing her. Distantly, the bus groans as it closes its doors and lumbers off, and it feels like a stopwatch starting: she has fifteen minutes more or less with him here. She needs to get on the next bus, needs to go home and sleep.
He lifts her hand in his and kisses the back of it, his eyes on her the whole time.
Dr. Abbot is, after all, an attending. She is not. Samira can feel the question he's not asking, the dare he's leaving between them.
If you wanted.
She could leave that question unanswered, leave these trees, and he wouldn't say anything about it after today. She knows it down to her very core. Hell, he would probably offer to walk her to the bus after some other shared shift, ask her another day to go under the trees. And for now, they could go sit and wait at the bus stop and she could lean her weight against him while they both sat like normal people on the bench.
But fuck it, she wants this, and she wants it now.
She pulls their intertwined hands down and wraps her free hand around his shoulder to pull him in so she can kiss him.
Abbot steps closer and he has a hand on her waist and one at the back of her neck, pulling her into him. She's whimpering against his lips, she's tipping her head back because he's taller and when he's all over her like this she can appreciate just how strong he feels.
He bites her lip and Samira puts her hand on his waist, sneaking up under the scrub top to put her hand against the bare skin of his back, her fingers digging in as he steps forward, herding her back towards a tree. She squeaks when her back touches the bark- not a collision, he made sure that she touched down gently, but it feels like it comes out of nowhere.
“All good?” He asks, and his breath comes in pants against her lips.
“Just- surprised by the tree. Don't- don't stop.” She almost whines at the end, but it was so good, and it's not fair that she's got so little time until she needs to catch the bus and he's not kissing her anymore.
He chuckles and kisses her again, just once, chaste and soft, and she pouts. “Can I touch you?”
You already are races through her head, but she still nods and gives an mhmm before she leans in and kisses him again, a hand in his hair now, tugging at the salt and pepper curls. His hand moves to her breast, and if they weren't in a park she’d demand that she lose the bra- lose the whole shirt, too.
It goes on for minutes, probably. If she didn't have a deadline, she wouldn't be trying to think about it at all, she could just lose herself in it. His hand stays between her and the tree as if to make sure he isn't pressing too hard as he starts to subtly shift his hips against hers and she can't help but reciprocate, giving another little whimper as she rocks against him.
At some point he leaves her mouth and starts kissing hungrily down her jaw, her throat, and she doesn't know what to do but lean her head back and feel, her hands tightening on his back, maybe her fingernails digging in enough to leave a mark, just barely. He groans and she does it again, thinking about leaving at least a little mark on him that nobody will ever see before it fades.
From the path there's a loud and drawn-out wolf whistle accompanied by some teenagers laughing, but it feels far away, and Samira barely moves. Abbot stills for a moment as if to assess the situation, his lips on her pulse point, but then he comes back up to kiss her lips, soft and chaste again.
“I think it's time I actually get you to the bus,” he murmurs, so close to her that it would be nothing at all to keep the moment going. She's done it already tonight, if she just kisses him again they’ll just wait for the next one.
But this time she lets her hands go, and his scrub top drops from where it had bunched up nearly halfway up his chest.
“That was-” she says softly, breathlessly, as they both take a second to straighten themselves up. She gets a rush of satisfaction that he has to adjust the front of his pants, too.
“I know.” He offers his elbow, and she links her arm in his, so close this time as they walk back to the path.
“Was this just- adrenaline?” Samira asks, and does what she can to keep the uncertainty out of her voice. It's alright, if that’s all it is.
“It's part of it. But it's also you.” He doesn't offer more, and even with all the overthinking she usually gets with romantic partners, that simple bit makes sense. It's him, after all. “You were on fire tonight, just remember that.”
They cross the street and settle onto the bench, just like she'd thought about before, her head on his shoulder like it's the easiest thing in the world, his hand wrapped around her back.
“You could come home with me.”
She can't see him, but she knows he smiles at that. Maybe in the way he breathes a little differently in the quiet night, out how his grip pulls her in just a little.
“No, I'm going to be back here at two or so. I gotta head home to get some sleep, and that is not what either of us will get if I get on your bus.”
She can't even complain, it's the right call.
“Do you have my number?” He asks.
“No.” Why would she have, they’ve rarely worked the same shifts and it’s the nurses and admins that text her to pick up shifts. “Not yet I mean.” She reaches down into the bag at her feet, and pulls out her iPhone and unlocks it before handing it over.
“Text me when you get home,” he says with the same gruffness that he hands out assignments in the ER, no room for questions. Samira can only nod as he hands it back.
The loud engine sound of the bus rounding the corner makes her groan. “You live near here, right?”
He gives a curt nod. “I’ll definitely be home before you.”
They both stand and wait for the bus to finish its way down the road, and just as it pulls up Abbot pulls her into a goodbye kiss, quick and affectionate like this is all very normal with his hand back on her shoulder, almost wrapping around the back of her neck.
“Get home safe,” he says.
“You too,” Samira answers, and hates that her feet carry her onto the bus. The driver waves her off from scrounging for her bus pass, letting her on without technically paying. She’s usually so good at having it ready in her hand.
She drops into a seat on the right side of the bus, and looks at her phone for the first time.
The contact for Jack A. shines up at her, and when she looks out the window as the bus starts to move again Jack is watching her go. She catches his eye and he gives a little wave, just a flick of the wrist, standing stock still and staring right at her in a way that makes her squeeze her legs together. Maybe he’s even smiling.
She slouches down into her seat and presses her hand over her mouth and is so glad that there's nobody in the rows around her to hear the ridiculous breathless laugh she makes.