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Dana Evans has her hands in her pockets and is leaning against the nurses’ desk, head tilted as she regards the young nurse who’s finishing up filing papers.
“Ya know, some of the staff like to hang out in the park across the street after a shift. Have a few beers. Decompress before headin’ home.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Emma says excitedly. She’d like to see Dana outside of the Pitt. Away from the harsh fluorescent lighting, chaotic emergency sounds, and general stressful environment.
“Yeah, but I prefer the bar a few blocks over. O'Leary's,” Dana throws out casually. “Comfier chairs.”
The two stare at each other for a moment and after Dana gives her a small smile, Emma returns it.
“Dana, can I talk to for a minute?” Interrupts Dr. Robby. He has his usual stressed out look on his face as he rubs at the back of his neck. Even after one day, Emma knows it all too well.
Attention shifted, Dana is walking away towards Robby. Emma watches the two senior staff members engage in what appears to be a tense conversation. Fitting, after the intense day that they had all gone through. Every patient, new lesson learned, mistake, and stressful situation still fresh in her mind.
Every touch from Dana.
She turns her head back, checking for the charge nurse, but she's gone along with Robby. The nightshift staff have taken over, running the ER with the same confidence and ease as her dayshift colleagues, of whom only a handful still remain to finish up their charts. Filing. She needs to finish up filing these messy, handwritten charts, do something - unjam it or check on the toner, she can't remember which - with that fax machine, and then she's free. Done with her first shift in the Pitt.
---
Should I shower? Would that be weird? Am I allowed to shower here?
Emma decides to just change out her sweaty undershirt and put a clean black tank top under her scrubs. She reapplies some deodorant and brushes her teeth in one of the unoccupied bathrooms down the hall. She's not even sure Dana will be there. Well, Dana said she would be there, but maybe Emma wasn't actually invited?
You're overthinking this. Take a breath. It's just a drink with your hot co-worker. I mean co-worker...
Backpack on, feeling a little cleaner, yet still a bit nervous, Emma heads to the Pitt. After checking the center desk, staff lounge, and a few random rooms, she wonders if Dana is maybe outside smoking.
“Looking for someone?” Dr. Cassie McKay asks.
“Oh, yeah I was just looking for Nurse Dana.”
"Surprised she's not with you. You two were attached at the hip all day," she says with a grin.
"Yeah, well, she was just showing me the ropes. Gotta learn from the best, right?"
Cassie is giving her some kind of knowing look, there's a hint of amusement in her eyes, but Emma isn't sure what she did to deserve it.
"Right, well I think I saw her headed to the exit about 15 minutes ago."
"Gotcha, thank you, Doctor!" Emma says with a quick smile to Cassie, yet she's already facing the doors.
"Goodluck, kid," Cassie mummers to herself with a slight shake of the head.
---
O'Leary's Pub is an average local bar. Sports and celebrity photos hang on the walls. There's a few TVs with different games or movies playing. The lighting is low and warm. And all the doors and windows are open to let in what little cool evening breeze the fourth of July in Pittsburg has to offer. The A/C, of course, had to break down this morning, but that didn't stop the few regulars from enjoying a cold drink by the Monongahela River.
Dana is sitting at the far end of the bar by the faux jukebox. It's the kind where you just tap your card and select whatever song you want to hear, no real records involved, but it's decorated with beautiful neon lights that give the whole corner a nice multi-colored glow. Her pale blonde hair is tinged with faint blue then red as the lights shift. When the older woman scans the bar, her eyes land on Emma, and she gives her a small smile.
"I wasn't sure if this is what you meant. I almost didn't come," she admits as she approaches. She hangs her backpack off the back of the chair next to Dana and sits down.
Dana's hand is immediately on her shoulder with a comforting squeeze, "Of course it's what I meant. I knew you'd come," she says with a wink. "You drink?"
"Yeah, vodka cranberry."
Dana raises a finger towards the bartender and passes along their order.
"So, you survived your first day. One hell of a first day, I should add. You should feel pretty good about yourself."
"I don't know. I guess I didn't do any major damage, but –"
"But nothin'. You were on your feet the whole day, always ready to jump into the next case, and we had our fair share of heavy fuckin' cases today. That wasn't easy. I've been in the game long enough, and you got what it takes, Emma. You're gonna be a great nurse. No, fuck that. You're already a great nurse," with a grin, Dana picks up her gin and tonic, and raises it towards the brunette. "Here's to you, MVP of the day!"
Blushing and smiling ear to ear, Emma grabs her glass. They cheers and drink. Then Dana asks her about home in Michigan. Emma talks about the cold, snowy winters; the hot summers jumping between the three great lakes to swim, fish, and camp; going to Canada to get preferred grocery store items. Dana shares similar stories from up that way when visiting family. The conversation is easy, a back and forth that flows from one topic to the next. Dana is a well of witty one liners, and even if Emma hadn't been on her second drink, she'd still be laughing at every joke out of the blonde's mouth.
Our knees have been touching for the past 10 minutes. I should move my leg. But she hasn't moved hers.
Dana leans in to whisper to Emma, and the young nurse finds herself leaning in closer, her hand rests on the gray scrubs covering older woman's knee. Dana's voice is a bit raspy when she asks, "Okay, what song really gets you goin'?"
Emma's brain is working about as quickly as the dying fax machine. There's an error tone ringing through her head at the intoxicating combination of the tone of voice and words out of Dana's mouth.
"I've been thinkin' about that jukebox since we sat down. C'mon," and she's up out of her chair. She taps her card and starts to shuffle through the genres. "Pick your poison."
Emma glances through the categories. She likes a bit of everything, but is mostly wondering what Dana likes.
She's so close. I can feel her breath on my arm. Her hip against mine.
She selects the 80's and scrolls through the suggested artists. Dana approvingly pats her on the shoulder and Emma bumps their hips together.
"Ah, a woman of taste! Thank god you didn't pick--"
Glass shatters as Dana's drink hits the ground. A man is behind them, voice booming, and Dana is gone from her side. Emma sees a large hand on Dana's shoulder. She looks shocked. Terrified. It's so unnatural to see Dana in such a state.
"I know you! You're tha nurse. I was there in tha shit hospital t'other week!" Slurs the man.
His hand is still on Dana. He must be double her size. Looming over her.
"Hey, take your hand off her!" Emma shouts. She knocks his arm off of Dana and she pushes in between them. She can't see her anymore. She's looking up at the man; offended at the sudden interruption. She can feel when Dana's hand slide into hers, fingers interlocking, and she gives the shaking hand a small squeeze, yet her attention is still on the drunk. Her adrenaline is making her heart pound and she remembers her conversation with Dana only this morning:
“Protect yourself and you fellow nurses. We use the S.T.A.M.P. Acronym.”
"I'm jus saying I had to wait in tha damn waitin room for hours.”
“You need to back up!” Emma asserts.
“It was like, 7 hours! Those fucking doctors over there don' even know what they're doing," and he's finally cut off when the bartender comes to intervene. It takes two staff members to walk the overly intoxicated man to the doors, still shouting complaints, just now about the bar and how he was "just making conversation."
Emma turns and her heart sinks. Dana's face is pale and her eyes are like a deer in headlights. She drops Emma's hand and walks back to the chairs.
"Dana," the bartender comes up to her, "I'm really sorry about that dickbag. You okay? He didn't hurt ya did he?"
"I'm fine, Tom." She's won't look either of them in the eye.
"Drinks are on me tonight."
"I can afford my own damn drinks thank you," Dana says sharply.
"Just take the apology drink, Dana" he tries, softer this time.
"No, but you are gonna let me and my friend finish our new drinks on that fancy terrace you got."
"Fine, deal. Leave the door propped, otherwise you'll be locked out." He hands them two new glasses then leaves to fetch a broom. Dana invites Emma upstairs and she accepts. Knowing the way, Dana guides them past a staff only sign up two floors and out onto a balcony.
It's small. The only items that fit are a two seater padded wicker bench and two small wood side tables ringed with water stains. But it has a nice outdoor rug and many twinkly lights hanging overhead. Looking out over the rails, a perfect view of the river. There are lights on past the other side of the shore, trees lining the bank, and a bridge over to the right connecting the sides of the city. Emma drops her bag in the doorway to keep it from shutting. It's only open enough to still hear some of the music from the bar below, but it feels much further away since the sounds of the outside are so loud in comparison. Crickets, cicadas, frogs, and other animals dominate the soundtrack from up here. Every once in a while there's a crack from a rogue firecracker, but it's late, and most of the fireworks have been used up.
Dana's sitting on the bench and taking off her gray scrubs top. Emma watches as her arms flex and the white tee underneath is freed. Her silver cross and chain fall back onto her breast. The shirt is tossed off into the corner, disregarded.
"Fuckin' scrubs. I'll tell ya, sometimes I swear they're a magnet for jerks just looking for someone to shout at." She's rubbing her hands against her knees. The color has come back to her face, and the fear is gone, but the tension is still there. The past couple hours of relaxing all undone.
Emma sits down next to her. She grabs at the front of her own scrubs and pulls them up over her head. It's Dana's turn to silently watch. After she tosses her top, leaving her in the black tank, Dana's eyes flick over her body. She had done this about a thousand times throughout the day. Always looking the new nurse up and down. This time felt different.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Emma starts, cautiously. Dana is still very agitated, now staring out at the river. Arms crossed, lips pursed, and brow furrowed.
"I was attacked last September. Pissed off patient took a swing at me in the ambulance bay. Doug Driscoll. Left me pretty jumpy around big hulking brutes," her voice cracks.
She's fighting so hard against any show of weakness. She takes a big swig of her drink and plays with the condensation on the glass.
"McKay mentioned you had been gone for a while. Is that why you took time off?"
"That. Maybe a few other things, too."
"Jesus... I'm so sorry that happened to you."
"Yeah, you're sorry, I'm sorry, everybody's sorry..." They drink in silence for a moment, both cups mostly flavored ice water at this point. Dana doesn't want to talk about it more, that much is obvious to Emma. Enough has been said for one night.
"Fuck it, I'm goin' for a pack of cigs," Dana says, defeatedly.
No, please don't leave yet. Let me be here for you. Let me help.
"I thought you quit?"
"Yeah, well, creepy bar guys gettin' on my nerves makes me wanna smoke. I need a distraction. Smoking is distracting and soothing." She stands up and Emma does too. Looking at her, you might think Dana was fine. Eyes focused, face determined, but when Emma sees her jaw clench - her holding back all the emotions of the evening - she reaches her hand out, grabbing Dana's. There's no flinch at the contact. She's not afraid to be touched. And then Emma steps forward.
It happens on pure instinct. No conscious thought really goes into the decision, just knowing Dana is hurting, needs help, needs to be distracted and soothed, and Emma knows she can help. She wants to make Dana feel good. To be there for her after everything today.
Dana's lips are soft. Maybe it's because she's not exactly kissing Emma back, she just hasn't pulled away from the contact. After a moment, Emma pulls away slowly. Her face feels hot and she wonders if she's made a mistake. But she doesn't look away.
"Sorry," she starts. Her voice is stronger than anticipated, "Maybe that was inappropriate of me."
Dana isn't reacting to being kissed as much as Emma would think. Maybe a bit stunned, but mostly she's just studying the young woman like she had been doing all day. Emma studies her back. Her features are much softer under the dim, warm yellow lights. The lines of her face less visible, her pupils large, everything delicate as if through a lens.
"Yeah, maybe it was..." Dana starts slowly. "But I'm certainly not thinking about cigarettes anymore," and the corner of her mouth pulls up in a small smirk.
Emma hasn't let go of her hand. Now, she pulls it closer to her, rests it on her hip, and it's Dana who leans in this time. Her lips are very soft, some kind of fruit chapstick she's been applying all day. Emma rests her hands on Dana's shoulders and the older woman pulls her in closer by the hips. She opens her mouth, deepening the kiss. She tastes a bit like lemon and gin, and Emma thinks she's never tasted anything sweeter. Dana moves to sit down, and Emma plants a knee on the bench against Dana's thigh, one hand supporting her her weight on her shoulder. Those hazel eyes are looking up at her, asking her if she wants this. She hasn't wanted anything this badly in a long time, and she guesses it's been a long time for the blonde as well. A hand glides up the back of Emma's bent leg, slowly. A challenge. The brunette brings her other leg up and straddles Dana. The kisses get messier, hungrier. The sounds of lips meeting each other and deep breaths taken between kisses rings through the air. Emma trails kisses along Dana's jaw then down to her neck by her ear. She can smell her. It’s that same fresh clean scent she knew from being around her earlier in the day. But now she can also sense Dana’s sweat, her natural smell. The two mix together and Emma breaths in it. Dana’s hands explore Emma. Her thighs, her back, then they grab at her ass. Emma pulls the pony out from the blonde hair so she can run her fingers through it. She scrapes her nails against the back of her neck. When she bites at her earlobe, Dana finally let's out a low moan, and Emma shudders.
Dana drags a finger down Emma's neck and collarbone, nail slightly scraping the skin, and when it reaches her breast, Dana whispers, “Can I--”
“Yes,” she answers, quickly, worried any hesitation might break the spell. She wants this to last. She craves more contact.
Dana cups her breasts with both hands. She can feel everything through the thin tank and bralette. Her nipples are hard and Dana lets her thumbs brush over them, causing the younger woman to let out small whimpers. Emma's mind is blank, but her body is on fire, and it's not from the July heat. Every touch, every sound from the woman under her ignites something in her. She starts to grind down against Dana's leg, slowly moving her hips back and forth. Dana uses a hand at her hip to help guide her.
Emma's hand slips under the waistband of Dana's pants and finds her underwear soaked. She runs her hand over the fabic, moving in small circles. The two moan into each other's mouths.
I can make you feel so good.
Loud fireworks explode just a block or so away on their side of the river, startling them both. Emma watches the sparks fall out of the sky. She's out of breath, her chest is heaving. When she looks back at Dana, she's met with a face she hasn't seen before. Her eyes are dark, and she's looking at Emma with a desire she's never seen on anyone's face before. She's almost a different person. But before either of them can act on it, a voice from below calls out.
“Yo, Dana! Closing up. Don't have to go home, but you can't stay on my balcony,” shouts Tom from the stair well.
Emma is still frozen on top of Dana. But the spell has been broken. After a beat, she climbs off. Dana gets up, heads for her discarded shirt in the corner, and Emma does the same. Grabbing her bag, she turns around and Dana is right behind her, but looking past, towards the stairwell. The two head down and out the front doors, not saying a word until Dana sends a “goodnight” to the bartender.
It's finally cooled off and there's a nice breeze on the street. There's only the light from the street lamps. The bugs and animals have quieted down. And the city is as silent as it gets during the summer, it being well past two.
Emma is fishing in her bag for her keys. When she has retrieved them, she looks to Dana, who's watching her, again.
“Uhm...” Emma starts, but doesn't know how to finish.
“You okay to drive?”
“Yeah, yeah the last one was mostly lemonade.”
“You sure? I have a breathalyzer, don't make me use it,” she says rather sternly, and Emma is about to retort when she realizes Dana is just teasing.
“Text me when you make it home okay?” Emma asks.
That smile appears on Dana's face one last time today. Emma wish she had kept count of how many times she had seen it. Not enough.
“Okay, will do, Captain,” she says, voice low. “We'll talk. Monday.” It's a promise, a date.