Chapter Text
Law considers how quickly the sun has risen, unimpressed by how quickly summer comes around again. He prefers the chill of winter that allows him to hide inside without being jeered at.
He looks down into the hospital car park, listening out for the wail of an ambulance. His hands are itching to hold a scalpel and peer into someone’s insides.
In a purely professional, Chief of Surgery, kind of way.
There’s a knock on the door of his office before Zoro is poking his head round. “You free?”
“Only if you’re not here to ask me about a raise for your entire department,” Law sighs, shoving papers he doesn’t want to deal with back into his desk drawer.
“Nah, I got a compound fracture that I’m willing to share with you if you want in. I know they got you holed up in here doing boring shit,” Zoro grins, crossing his arms over his chest.
Law doesn’t hesitate to grab his white coat and practically run out the door towards the ORs, even if he never trained with ortho as his specialty.
His finger is on the button for the lift when there’s a presence behind him that sours his happy mood instantly. Law turns to face Nami’s overtly smug smile, longing wistfully to have a scrub cap on his head.
She cocks a hip at him. “Where do you think you’re going, Chief? Did you forget you have a new surgical attending to show around today?”
Zoro’s hand on his shoulder offers an apology as he steps into the lift without him, knowing there’s no avoiding the head of the hospital when she wants something from you.
“Can’t you get one of the other attendings to do it? I’m Chief of Surgery, not a damn tour guide. You do this to me every time you manage to poach someone,” he grumbles.
“Ah, but this one is special.” Her index finger is held up suspiciously. “This is our newest cardiothoracic surgeon.”
Against his will, Law’s gaze picks itself up off the floor. Unfortunately, Nami knows exactly how to push his buttons to get him to go along with whatever it is she wants from him.
“Fine. Bring them over to my office later once you’ve filled out all the paperwork,” he sighs, dreaming about the bone he could be currently pushing back inside of skin.
Nami skips off and Law goes to make his way to the cafeteria, needing another caffeine intake before he has to deal with explaining where everything and who everyone is to a shiny, bright-eyed surgeon.
He’s also—though unwilling to admit it—slightly miffed at the fact that Nami has gone ahead and permanently hired another cardiac surgeon even though Law is still perfectly capable of performing surgery when Jean Bart can’t. Maybe if she didn’t bury him in paperwork every other day, his name would still be up on the OR board.
The lunch ladies give him a familiar wave as he walks in, unsurprised to see him already for the second time that morning. He offers a tight smile back as he walks up to the coffee machine.
It’s shit coffee, worse than what they’ve got in the attendings’ lounge, but the taste wakes him up just as much as the caffeine so Law can’t really bring himself to care. He places his head against the machine, mumbling the names of surgical tools under his breath.
“I gather that you and this machine have a special bond, but I really don’t fancy going to another floor only for coffee, so can I ask you to move?”
Law lifts his head to meet eyes with someone not overwhelmed by work, grimacing at his slight jealousy. Still, he figures that as long as he doesn’t have to comfort a grieving relative this early, it could be worse.
And while he understands that grieving relatives come with working in a hospital, that doesn’t make him any good at providing the comfort they need.
He moves out of the way now that his coffee is done, going to take some sugar. “Sorry. Most people don’t bother getting coffee from here anyway since they prefer the truck outside.”
“Ah, so you’re saying this is going to taste like straight ass, huh?” they laugh, pressing the buttons on the machine.
“It’s a hospital,” Law shrugs, bemused by their nonchalance. “Somehow, increasing the coffee budget just isn’t on the priority list.”
Another laugh, and he has to admit seeing someone cheery isn’t ruining his mood the way he thought it would. “I appreciate the honesty, but don’t worry, I’ve been in my fair share of hospitals to know the coffee's never good.”
He’s about to ask them why they’ve been in enough hospitals to know that, too curious for his own good, but they’re gone by the time he looks up from his cup.
Law waits for Nami to stop by his office, wishing he was doing anything other than admin. Hell, he’d even take radiology with Penguin right now, just so long as he doesn’t have to stare into the walls of this office.
He straightens up to the knock on his door, hunching back down when he realises it’s Robin. “Hey Chief,” she says, walking in with a box of pastries. “I figured you wouldn’t have had time for breakfast yet, so I got some on the way in. Pick what you want and I’ll put the rest in the lounge.”
“You only bring pastries when you’re about to be locked in the lab for a week straight, testing out a new diagnostic theory.” Robin smiles and shrugs, not inclined to admit to anything.
“Well, it is my job to do research.” The box is on his desk as she looks through his bookcase. “Come and get me when the new poach settles in, though. Nami’s been talking them up for the past week.”
Law takes out an apple tart and wraps it in a few tissues. “Maybe you want to do the tour, then? I’m happy to play with pipettes and enter data into a computer.
“What a description of my job,” Robin laughs, tucking two books under her arm and grabbing the rest of the pastries. “See you in a week?”
“Honestly, it’ll probably be at least two,” he sighs, and even then it’ll be a passing glimpse in the hallway at best. He waves her goodbye, ready to pretend he’s doing work, only to hear a siren.
His nose is pressed to the glass so quickly it’s almost shameful, and just as he’s about to make a guess as to whether the patient will be going to the ER or OR, his pager beeps.
Oh yes, Law thinks, running out of his office before anyone else can get to the fresh gurney before he does.
It’s not the first time the nurses have seen him running to the OR floor to scrub in at record speed, and a few of them even wish him good luck as he skids around corners. And he needs luck to make sure Nami doesn’t catch him first.
His favourite anesthesiologist is waiting for him by OR 3 with his favourite scrub cap when he gets there, and he grins widely. “Bepo, you might just be my lord and saviour,” he grins.
“Glad to see you back on board, C’pn,” he jokes, following him inside to the sink even if he doesn’t have to scrub in.
Law tightens the cap on his head. “Heard we got an emergency CABG. Ready to watch me work my magic after so long?”
“Considering how many interns you’ve got up in the gallery, I’d say yeah. We’ve missed having you down here,” Bepo smiles, before disappearing inside to get the equipment ready for when the patient arrives.
Law smiles to himself, less eager to show off his skills but rather to simply put them to good use. And sure, being Chief is great and has its charm, but he became a doctor to stick his hands in people and fix them, not sign a million documents a day.
He’s already gowned and gloved when the door swings open. Even though there’s a mask covering her face, he knows Nami is scowling, and he tries to hide his smile.
“You were supposed to be in your office,” she says, barely bothering to add any sweetness to her words.
Law shrugs. “ Well, it’s not like I asked someone to have a heart attack, you know? I’m magic, but not like that. I’ll be free once this is done, we can talk then.”
“A CABG is at least a three hour surgery!” she huffs, before turning on her heel, spitting out curse words. Undeterred, Law raises his hands in the air as he scans the room.
He looks down at the patient in front of him and takes a deep breath. Another day, another dance with death. But after that moment, there’s not a single part of him that hesitates to ask for a scalpel.
The beeping of the monitors keeps him where he needs to be the entire time, even if it speeds up or slows down. There’s chatter between the others in the room he tunes out when he needs to, but he isn’t one to mind it. If it’s a planned surgery, he might even ask for some music.
Law doesn’t let his mind wander more than that. He keeps his eyes firmly on his hands, watching the heart in front of him beat, and settles in for a long day.
“You can’t be hogging the whole sofa. You have a whole office for yourself,” Sanji says, kicking gently at Law’s hand that is hanging off the sofa.
Law groans but sits up so that the paediatric surgeon can join him, knowing he just got out of a liver transplant. Sanji’s legs make their way into his lap; too tired to complain, he lets it happen.
“How’s the kid?” he asks instead. This is an operation Sanji’s been waiting months on, pestering everyone he can for a liver that matches his patient.
Sanji sighs, running a hand over his face. “She’s doing okay. Was stable most of the time, so I’m hoping she stays that way. God knows Ruby’s parents don’t need another scare.”
Law doesn’t ask any further questions, choosing instead to cover his face with a pillow and pretend to be asleep. He’s tired from standing on his feet so long, but considering he’s finally gotten to operate, he’s too jittery to actually sleep.
At some point Sanji gets up to go with a nurse that needs something from him, leaving Law to tune out the murmur of chatter from the other attendings, refusing to be anyone’s boss for the rest of the day. If they need something, they can go see Nami at the top of the food chain.
His temporary peace is, unfortunately, quickly shattered with a folder landing on his lap. Law removes the pillow from his face to meet eyes with an annoyed Shachi.
“A head nurse shouldn’t be giving newbies tours,” he scowls, hands crossed over his chest. “I have more important things to do than show someone you’re supposed to be looking after where the stairwell is.”
Law does his best to suppress his small smile. “So, does that mean I’m off the hook? The new attending is all settled in?”
“I wouldn’t say off the hook entirely—” Law sucks in a breath “—but there’s a reason you’ve been able to hide out here so long without being yelled at by a certain redhead.”
“Thanks, Shachi. I owe you one,” he says, taking the folder in his lap and standing up, placing a thankful hand on Shachi’s shoulder.
“Oh you most definitely do, but I need to think on what I want from you, so enjoy living your life in fear until I call in that favour,” Shachi grins, disappearing out of the attendings’ lounge.
Law runs a hand through his hair, hoping he still looks more or less presentable, ready to head out into the corridor and be bombarded by staff, only to run into someone right away.
You step back from the person you’ve just bumped into, brushing down your new scrubs, glad you weren’t carrying anything other than a few files. Opening your mouth to apologise, you stop when you realise who you’ve made contact with.
“Well, it’s nice to see you again. On your way to visit your partner in the cafeteria?” you joke, watching his eyes trace over you in search of recognition.
His eyes squint. “Ah, the hospital coffee connoisseur. Didn’t expect to run into you twice in one day.” He looks you up and down again before something finally clicks. “You’re wearing…”
“Scrubs? Well, yes, just in case someone tries to beat me to a CABG again,” you smile. “Was hoping for an exciting first day, Chief, but I understand: you gotta get your hands on whatever you can.”
Doctor Trafalgar’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he manages to steel himself. You’re honestly not even angry at him, but it’s funny to watch him realise who you are and why you’re poking fun at him like this.
“So you’re the newest poa— recruit . You’re the newest recruit.” He glances down at a holder where your name no doubt is. “Welcome aboard. I’m—”
“Doctor Trafalgar, Chief of Surgery at New World Hospital,” you finish for him, taking the hand he’s presented for you to shake. “And, I’m well-aware I’m a poach. Your Dean doesn’t beat around the bush.”
Trafalgar grimaces at that. “Yeah, she’s… a personality. You spent the morning with her, so I don’t need to tell you. And, uh, sorry. For stealing your first surgery here.”
You wave your hand. “Don’t worry about it Doc, better that I actually finished the employee paperwork before I made my way into an OR. I think Dean Nami is grateful I’m going to have a smooth transition in.”
He nods, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. With the conversation having come to a natural lull, you’re more than happy to let him walk away.
“Oh, Doctor Trafalgar?” He turns around from where he’s made it halfway down the corridor, straightening up. Your eyes are cold when he looks into them. “Don’t ever try to steal one of my surgeries in the future.”