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“Ugh, I look like such a dork.”
Javadi groaned and flopped face-first onto Trinity’s bed, her voice muffled by the comforter. Across the room, Santos snorted from her chair at the desk, barely glancing up from the mirror propped in front of her.
“You always look like a dork, Crash.”
“Wow. Helpful.” Javadi’s voice came out flat against the mattress. “Really helpful.”
Santos shrugged, carefully brushing a sweep of blush across her cheekbones. “I still don’t get why you’re spiraling over this. It’s a dumb Halloween party. It’s not going to ruin your career.”
Javadi groaned again, louder this time. “Everyone’s going to be there. Everyone. And they’re all going to see me in this ridiculous costume and mask.” She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed her. “Why did I agree to dress as a cowgirl? Of all things.”
“Don’t crash out on us, Crash.” Santos rolled her eyes, leaning closer to the mirror as she fixed her eyeliner. “Huckleberry and I will be there too. If you embarrass yourself, we’ll step in.”
“That’s comforting.”
“And besides,” Santos added with a small smirk, “no one will even know it’s you.”
Javadi turned her head to look at her. “Easy for you to say. You’re dressed like a sexy vampire and your situationship will be there to ogle you all night.”
Santos finally glanced over, grinning.
“Jealous?”
“Very,” Javadi mumbled.
Santos rolled her eyes and capped her blush. “Oh, come on. Get up. We have to leave in ten.”
Javadi groaned dramatically and rolled onto her side, pulling one of Trinity’s pillows over her head like a shield.
“That’s it. I’m not going,” she declared from beneath the pillow. “You guys have fun.”
Santos turned slowly in her chair, giving her a long, unimpressed look.
“Crash.”
Javadi wasn't even going to respond to her.
“Crash, if I have to drag you out of this room in that crocks and cowboy costume combo, I will.”
Javadi lowered the pillow just enough to glare at her. “You wouldn’t.”
Santos raised an eyebrow, baring her plastic vampire fangs in a grin.
“Ah, good evening,” Robby said, leaning against the doorframe, beer in hand. “Santos, Whitaker…” His eyes narrowed slightly as he peered past them. “Javadi? Is that you?”
Javadi gave a small nod, tugging the scarf down from her face just enough for him to see.
Robby’s expression brightened immediately. “Ah! Sorry, couldn’t recognize you. Come on in.” Robby added, stepping aside and giving Whitaker a friendly shove on the shoulder to move him along.
Up close, it was clear that Robby chose a werewolf costume. Fake fur crawled up the collar of his jacket, and a pair of pointed ears stuck out through his hair, though the lopsided grin on his face made the whole thing look quite ridiculous.
Javadi adjusted the brim of her hat as she stepped inside. No way in hell she was making herself recognizable tonight.
Santos had already peeled off toward the drink table, slipping easily into conversation with Garcia. Of course they had coordinated, Santos in her sleek vampire look, and Garcia dressed as an unmistakable vampire hunter, complete with a faux-leather jacket and a wooden stake tucked into her belt.
Javadi hovered near the entryway for a moment, debating whether to follow Dennis and Robby into the living room. Something told her they probably wanted to do their own thing, though, so she quietly veered off toward the kitchen instead, hoping to blend into the background.
The house was way more crowded than she’d expected.
People packed the living room, spilled into the hallways, and clustered around every available surface with red cups and plastic tumblers in hand. Javadi recognized a lot of faces—mostly people from the ER—but there were others too. A few from surgery. Some from radiology. Even a couple of neurologists.
Her stomach twisted a little.
At least the scarf helped. Between that, the hat, and the low lighting, she could probably pass for just another anonymous guest.
And thank God her mom hated these kinds of parties.
The last thing Javadi needed was for her to walk in and find her daughter wandering around dressed like a bargain-bin cowgirl with cowboy boots, flannel shirt, jeans, a ridiculous hat, and a lasso hanging from her hip.
The kitchen was noticeably calmer than the rest of the house. Only a handful of people lingered there, two refilling their cups from the punch bowl and a small group crowded around the table in the middle of the room playing beer pong.
One of them, a tall, tanned guy Javadi vaguely recognized from surgery, glanced over when she stepped in.
“Hey, cowgirl,” he said with an easy grin. “You wanna join?”
Javadi shook her head politely, lifting a hand in a small wave. “I’m good. I’ll just watch.”
“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, turning back to the game.
Javadi slipped past them toward the counter, grateful for the relative quiet. She grabbed a cup and started mixing herself a rum and cola, carefully eyeballing the proportions.
Honestly, she’d much rather do this than try to socialize.
Drink in one hand, she leaned back against the counter and pulled out her phone with the other, opening her inbox on AO3. If she was going to spend the night hiding in a corner of this party, she might as well check if anyone had commented on her latest fic.
A couple minutes passed before Javadi noticed someone step up beside her, leaning casually against the counter.
“Not a fan of the party?”
The voice made her freeze.
Holy shit.
McKay.
Of all the people in the house.
In a place packed wall-to-wall with doctors, nurses, and residents—and with Javadi doing everything she could to stay hidden under a hat, scarf pulled high over the lower half of her face, and the most generic cowgirl costume she could assemble—McKay had somehow ended up right next to her.
Javadi kept her eyes on her phone, pretending to scroll like she hadn’t just gone completely rigid.
“Something like that,” she said, her voice slightly muffled behind the scarf. She lifted her rum and cola for a quick sip, carefully tugging the fabric down just enough to drink before pulling it back into place.
McKay hummed beside her.
“Yeah,” she said after a moment, glancing out toward the living room where music and laughter spilled down the hallway. “Same.”
Javadi risked a quick glance.
McKay’s costume was minimal compared to everyone else’s: dark jeans, heavy boots, and a worn leather jacket over a black shirt, with a pair of small devil horns tucked into her hair like the only concession to the theme. Javadi swallowed. She looked good.
“You hiding in here too?” McKay asked.
“Observing,” Javadi replied.
That earned a small smile.
“Smart,” McKay said, leaning back against the counter. “People out there are already three drinks in. It’s only a matter of time before someone decides karaoke is a good idea.”
Javadi let out a quiet laugh before she could stop herself.
McKay glanced over at her again, curious. “Are you from the ER?”
Javadi’s stomach did a small, traitorous flip.
“Yeah… not as a doctor though!” she added quickly, the words coming out a little too fast. It wasn’t exactly a lie but it also wasn’t the full truth, and that was the important part.
McKay raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem particularly suspicious.
“Chill, babe. Just checking,” she said, grabbing a cup and filling it with water from Robby’s fridge. “You seem familiar.”
Javadi nodded vaguely, sipping her drink underneath her scarf. McKay leaned back against the counter again, taking a drink of water.
God.
From this angle, the jacket fit her shoulders perfectly. The fabric stretched just enough across her back when she moved, and Javadi suddenly found herself staring a little too long.
“To be honest, I’m waiting for someone to show up,” McKay said after a moment, sighing softly. “But I guess she’s not going to.”
Javadi glanced up from her phone.
“I’m not bothering you, am I?” McKay added.
“No, absolutely not! W-who are you waiting for?” Javadi asked quickly.
“A friend of mine.” McKay shrugged lightly. “Someone told me she’d be here, and I kind of wanted to spend the night with her. She’s probably the only person at this party who won’t end up completely blasted by midnight.”
Javadi tilted her head slightly. “You don’t drink?”
“Can’t,” McKay replied simply.
Then she looked Javadi up and down, a grin tugging at her mouth.
“By the way, cool costume.”
Javadi huffed behind the scarf, heat creeping up her neck. “I look stupid. I look like Woody from Toy Story, and not in a good way.”
McKay laughed.
“I disagree,” she said. “Although you do have to admit Woody is the best character in all the Pixar movies.”
She took another sip of water and added, “My kid loves him. The whole Woody and Bo Peep love story? Big hit in my house.”
"Ha— your kid seems very sweet." Javadi prayed that Mckay didn't notice her slip up.
"Yeah, he is." Mckay smiled. For a moment they stood there in a comfortable sort of quiet.
Music thumped faintly through the walls from the living room, followed by a burst of laughter from somewhere down the hall. The kitchen lights were softer than the rest of the house, the kind that made everything feel a little slower, a little more private.
Javadi shifted her weight against the counter, trying very hard to look casual and not like she was hyper-aware of McKay standing barely a foot away.
McKay took another sip of water, then glanced sideways at her.
“So,” she said, tilting her head slightly, “cowgirl.”
Javadi groaned softly behind the scarf. “Please don’t.”
McKay chuckled. “What? It’s accurate.”
“It’s humiliating.”
“I told you, it’s a good costume.”
“You’re just being nice.”
McKay turned a little more toward her now, leaning one shoulder against the counter. Up close, the tiny devil horns in her hair tilted slightly when she moved.
“I’m not,” she said. “It’s memorable.”
Javadi raised an eyebrow above the scarf. “Memorable isn’t always good.”
“It is when it makes someone want to talk to you.” The words landed somewhere warm in Javadi’s chest. She looked down at her cup, swirling the ice around to buy herself a second.
“Well,” she said carefully, “I wanted to talk with you, and you didn’t exactly need the costume for that.”
“Oh?” McKay’s voice carried a hint of amusement now.
Javadi immediately regretted speaking.
“I mean—” she fumbled, gesturing vaguely with her drink. “You seem nice.”
McKay studied her for a moment with a lazy smirk.
“You’re surprisingly easy to talk to,” she said.
Javadi huffed softly. “That’s because you don’t know me.”
“Maybe.” McKay shrugged.
Then she added, quieter, “Or maybe I just got lucky.”
Their eyes met for a brief moment. Javadi looked away first.
“I was going to ask for your name,” McKay said, glancing at her again, “but I have a feeling you’re not going to give it to me.”
Javadi hesitated for half a second.
“You can call me… Kyliee.” Immediately, her brain caught up with her mouth. Good job, Javadi. Real smooth. Give her the exact same name you use online.
McKay nodded once, like she was filing the name away.
“Hm. Kyliee,” she repeated thoughtfully. Then she offered a hand. “I’m Cassie, by the way.”
Javadi blinked at it for a moment before taking it.
Mckay’s grip was warm and confident, her palm rougher than Javadi expected. The handshake lasted just a fraction longer than it probably needed to.
When they let go, McKay didn’t move away.
“So,” Mckay said lightly, “are you planning on hiding in this kitchen all night, Kyliee?”
Javadi leaned back against the counter again, lifting her drink.
“That depends,” she said. “Are you planning on staying?”
Mckay’s mouth curved slightly at that.
“Maybe.”
Javadi was a horrible, horrible person. And, apparently, a stupid one too. One minute she’d been having a perfectly normal conversation with McKay standing in Robby’s kitchen with a rum and cola in her hand. The next thing she knew, she was backed up against a bed in what had to be one of the random guest rooms upstairs.
Somewhere between the kitchen and the hallway she had clearly made several extremely questionable life choices.
Mckay stood close, one hand braced on the mattress beside Javadi’s hip, effectively boxing her in, kissing her neck.
Javadi’s hat had tilted slightly during the escape upstairs, and the scarf still covered the lower half of her face, though now it felt less like a disguise and more like a very flimsy shield. Good thing that they didn't even manage to turn on the light before ending in this position.
“You’re quiet all of a sudden, Kyliee,” Mckay said, voice low with amusement.
Javadi swallowed. “I’m… thinking.”
“Dangerous.” Mckay leaned in just a little closer, pushing her hips against Javadi's. Javadi’s heart was doing something deeply unprofessional in her chest.
“This was a bad idea,” she murmured.
Mckay’s mouth twitched. “Coming upstairs?” she asked.
Javadi shook her head slightly. “No,” she said. “Talking to you.”
“Why?” McKay laughed softly, her voice warm against Javadi’s ear as she leaned closer.
Javadi’s breath caught when McKay’s hand slipped beneath the hem of her flannel shirt, fingers brushing over the warm skin of her stomach.
“Because you’re too hot,” Javadi breathed, her head tipping back slightly as McKay’s lips trailed along the side of her throat. “I think I’m going to combust.”
McKay chuckled quietly against her skin. “Just little old me,” she teased, her hand exploring a little higher before pausing. “Wait—”
Her fingers brushed something cool. “You have a belly ring?”
“Don’t tell anybody.” Javadi huffed out a shaky laugh.
In one quick motion, she tugged the scarf down from her face entirely and caught McKay’s attention again, pulling her in for a kiss.
McKay’s hands slid more firmly around Javadi’s waist as their mouths met, muffling the soft sounds escaping both of them. The kiss was heated and dizzying, the kind that made the world narrow to nothing but the space between them.
Javadi’s fingers tangled in the collar of McKay’s jacket, pulling her closer. Her hat had long since tipped back, forgotten somewhere against the mattress behind her.
McKay’s hands tightened slightly at Javadi’s waist as their mouths met, the kiss slow and deep, deliberate. Her lips were warm and slightly chapped, moving against Javadi’s like they wanted to engulf her whole.
Javadi let out a quiet breath through her nose, her fingers curling into the fabric of McKay’s jacket to pull her closer. The movement pressed their bodies together just a little more, and McKay hummed softly into the kiss.
Their mouths parted just enough for the kiss to deepen. McKay tilted her head, catching Javadi’s lower lip between hers for a moment before kissing her again, softer this time, like she was savoring it.
Javadi felt dizzy.
Every time she thought the kiss might end, McKay would brush her lips against hers again, lingering just long enough to make Javadi lean forward to chase it.
Her hand slid from McKay’s jacket to the back of her neck, fingers threading into the short hair at the nape.
McKay responded immediately, one hand drifting up Javadi’s side beneath the flannel,pushing underneath the bra to graze at her nipple.
The touch pulled a quiet sound from Javadi’s throat, and McKay smiled faintly against her mouth before kissing her once more. Javadi laughed breathlessly against her lips.
“This is—” she started, then lost the rest of the sentence when McKay kissed her again.
Somehow Mckay managed to unbutton her shirt with one hand, pulling away just to slid it off Javadi and throw it somewhere. Javadi did the same to Mckay's jacket and shirt, both landing softly besides the bed.
"You ever done this before?" Mckay asked, kissing her stomach and starting to unzip her jeans.
"What? Sex or sex with a woman? Because the answer is yes either way." Javadi said breathlessly.
"Good." Mckay was now kissing her happy trail. "Very good, why don't we—"
A flash of light engulfing the room interrupted her. "Sorry guys, didn't know you were in here!" Santos said, quickly closing the door.
For a moment the room was completely silent. McKay slowly lifted her head.
“…Javadi?”
“Hi.” Javadi gave a weak, very guilty smile.
McKay leaned back a few inches, clearly trying to process several things at once. Her eyes flicked over Javadi’s face, then down briefly, then back up again.
“You’re the cowgirl,” she said slowly.
“Yes.”
“The mysterious Kyliee.”
“…Also yes.”
Another pause, then McKay exhaled a quiet laugh, dragging a hand down her face.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Javadi sat up a little straighter against the headboard, suddenly very aware of the fact that her shirt was somewhere on the floor and McKay’s hand was still resting warm against her waist.
“I didn’t plan this,” Javadi said quickly. “I mean, I planned the costume, but not the… you know… accidentally seducing my coworker part.”
McKay stared at her, disbelief written all over her face. “You don’t say?!”
“To be fair,” Javadi rushed on, trying not to trip over her own words, “I am a little drunk, and you didn’t even check how old I was, regardless!”
“Because— because since you were drinking and acting all nonchalant on your phone, I assumed…” McKay exhaled hard, dragging a hand through her hair. “We can’t do this, Javadi. You know we can’t.”
“Why?” Javadi asked, panic creeping into her voice. “Because I’m younger than you? Because I’m a med student?” She gestured helplessly between them. “I don’t care about that! I’m an adult, and I’m consenting to this.”
“Oh my God,” McKay muttered, rubbing her eyes. “I’m worse than Chad.”
Javadi frowned. “What?”
“Both of those things, Javadi,” McKay said, looking back at her. “You’re barely old enough to drink. And we work together. I don’t mix work with—” She stopped. With pleasure, she almost said. The words sat heavy in her throat like stones.
“So?” Javadi shot back, sitting up straighter. “Garcia and Santos work together, and Garcia is old—”
“Not that much older!” McKay protested immediately. “Besides, look at them! One day they love each other and act all disgusting together, the next day they’ve had a fight and can’t even be in the same room.”
Javadi huffed out a frustrated breath.
Mckay leaned back slightly against the bedframe, trying very hard to put some space between them.
Which would have worked better if Javadi weren’t still half undressed and looking at her like that.
“You don’t want that kind of mess,” McKay said more quietly. “Trust me.”
Javadi stared at her for a moment. “I wanted this kind of mess for months, Cassie.”
McKay blinked, the words clearly catching her off guard. “Is that why you didn’t tell me who you were?”
“Yes! Yes,” Javadi said, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “Because Kyliee gets to know you like this. Kyliee gets to flirt with you, gets to joke with you, gets to be an adult with you.”
She swallowed, her voice tightening.
“Javadi doesn’t. She doesn’t because her mom doesn’t let her and because her coworker McKay thinks she’s a child.”
McKay dragged a hand down her face.
“Fuck.”
The room went quiet again, the music downstairs thumping faintly through the floor.
“You can tell me you’re not interested, McKay,” Javadi said after a moment, her voice softer now. “But please, for the love of everything, don’t treat me differently from Kyliee.”
McKay looked at her for a long time.
The defensiveness in her posture slowly faded, replaced by something more conflicted. Her eyes moved over Javadi’s face like she was trying to reconcile two different people that had suddenly become the same one.
“You’re really serious about this,” she said quietly.
“Yes.” Javadi didn’t hesitate.
McKay let out a slow breath. “You realize this is a terrible idea,” she muttered.
“Probably.”
“We could make work very awkward.”
“Also probably.”
Mckay sighed, then looked at Javadi. "Ok, then. Put the hat back on, cowgirl."