Chapter Text
In the grand retrospect of life, six months was not that long. But to Samira Mohan, it felt like an eternity.
As she walked into her first shift back, it was like she had never even been to the Pitt before. Granted, it was unnecessarily cruel for Robby to throw her on night shift right after her fellowship and disorient her normal day shift pattern. Allegedly- key word here- Abbott was in dire need of extra assistance, especially as winter neared.
Samira thinks Robby was just annoyed with her.
She placed her things carefully into her locker, the chatter of the day shift finishing up trailing through the walls. It’s not like she had never worked a night shift before, it’s just… it’s been a while. And she’s never worked a night shift at the Pitt.
“Dr. Mohan,” a low voice called teasingly.
Samira fought the urge to smile, failing miserably. “Dr. Abbot.”
Oh, also important to mention: she had never worked the night shift with this attending.
Abbott leaned against the lockers, crossing his arms. “How was your fellowship?”
Samira raised her eyebrows. “Like you don’t already know.”
“Hey, at least pretend to play along.”
She laughed softly. “It was really good, thank you for asking.”
When Samira had first gotten a text from Abbot mere days after she had left for her fellowship, she was honestly nervous. He had never messaged her for anything, albeit the occasional reminder of donuts in the break room. Yet here her attending was, texting her. Hey, it had said. Just wanted to say we’re gonna miss you here but kick ass at the fellowship, followed by an obscene number of smiley-face emojis.
At first, she had just froze. But her response- nothing more than a thank you and update on her fellowship- had soon become a stream of texts ranging from questions about cases to all the gossip she was missing. An answer at sporadic times of the night soon became an expected sight in the mornings and, as weird as it was to admit, Abbot’s texts had become as much a part of her routine as her alarm clock.
But that’s all that they were, friendly texts. Now, he was standing in front of her with his oddly attractive arms (seriously it was baffling), back to being her superior.
He leaned off of the lockers, breaking her spell. “You’re with Ellis tonight. She can show you the night shift ropes.”
Samira nodded and Abbot explained case specifics and housekeeping reminders, showing her where everything would be placed. It was honestly fascinating just how differently Robby and him ran each shift, like two sides of the same coin.
“Mohan!” Ellis called from a bloody gurney, signaling the start of her shift. Samira went to help when Abbot lightly grabbed her arm, leaning down to murmur, “You’ve got this.”
Yeah, six months was definitely too long.
***
The first month was enough to kill her.
Not to even get started on her thoroughly fucked up sleep schedule, Samira wasn’t prepared for the chaos that was the night shift. She guessed Abbot was right when he said it was truly the weirdest and the wildest of them all.
“Jesus Christ,” a familiar voice grumbled. Samira looked over at Abbot, whose eyes were peering out the window. “It’s a fucking mess out there.”
The biggest blizzard Pittsburgh had seen in a decade. Or, at least that’s what all the news stations had said. Her shift had only begun an hour ago and already five blizzard-related injuries had come in.
“Do you think it’ll clear up by morning?” Samira asked, moving to stand next to Abbot.
He shrugged. “Who knows. Why, you have somewhere to be?”
“Oh, you know,” she quipped. “Just a hot date.”
Well, that made his eyes narrow. She smirked. “I’m just kidding.”
“Very funny,” he murmured as she moved to help Shen with an injured snow plow driver, trying to ignore the heat buzzing on her skin.
Granted, Samira didn’t have much experience when it comes to romance. Besides a few fumblings in her undergrad and the occasional Hinge date, her social life has existed exclusively within the walls of the Pitt.
But there was something about her and Dr. Abbot’s interactions lately that she couldn’t just shake. Sure, they worked in a super touchy environment, but was the hand on her lower back necessary every time he moved around her? Or the wink after he made her laugh, followed by his military-hardened gaze softening? Or even him walking her to the bus stop after their shift had ended, making sure no “Philly freaks” bothered her (his words not hers)?
They were friends; the texting during her fellowship proved that. And to be honest, Samira had never had many adult friends. Maybe this is just what Abbot calls friendship. After all, there’s absolutely no way he could mean anything else. He’s her attending, two decades older than her, unfairly hot and-
“Dr. Mohan,” Shen called. “You still with us?”
“Uh…”
Right. The snow plow driver. The degloved arm.
Fuck.
She took a deep breath and shut those thoughts away. “Alright, I need an EKG, a CAT…”
The rest of the night shift became a blur, full of vehicle accidents to hypothermia to simple lack of common sense. Samira had no time to even begin to think of anything besides what was in front of her, let alone excuse herself for three minutes to use the bathroom.
Finally- when she felt that she had nothing left to give- the clock struck seven and the day shift came piling in.
“Here comes the cavalry,” Ellis teased as Dana pulled Samira into a hug.
“I’ll fight Robby myself if he doesn’t move you back to day shift,” Dana joked. “We miss you, hun.”
Samira gave the charge nurse a tired smile. “I miss you all, too. How was the drive in?”
Dana scoffed. “Horrible. Roads are hardly plowed. Apparently the bus system is still down, so half the crew is going to be late.”
Her stomach dropped as Dana left to start her shift. “Shit.”
“What is it?”
Samira’s head snapped up to see Abbot leaning against a station, crossing his arms over his chest. God, those arms…
“Um,” she stammered, blaming the long night for her lack of focus. “The bus line is down.”
“Oh shit.” Abbot shook his head. “Do you have a ride you could call? Like a friend or something?”
She couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Nope.”
His brow furrowed, looking past her as he said, “I’ll drive you home.”
Not a question, not a suggestion. A decision.
Her face flushed. “You really don’t have to. I’ll just call an Uber-”
“In this weather?”
Samira bit her lip, heart pounding. She really didn’t have any other options…
“Come on, Dr. Mohan,” Abbot teased with a soft smile. “I promise I’ll follow all the traffic laws.”
She chuckled. “Fine. But we better not end up back here as patients.”
“You got your go-bag with you?” he asked with a feigned seriousness. She swatted him as they moved to the parking garage.
***
In the last ten minutes, Samira Mohan had learned two things.
One: Jack Abbot drives a Jeep.
Two: He has horrible taste in music.
“What even is this?” she complained jokingly, gesturing to his ancient car stereo.
“Are you serious?” he glanced over at her, hands expressive on the wheel. “This is Bruce Springsteen!”
“It’s a… choice,” she quipped.
Abbot rolled his eyes despite the grin threatening to take over his face. “This guy is one of the best musicians of all time. There’s absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t listen to him.”
“It’s not bad, it’s just…” Samira cut herself off with a laugh.
“What? It’s just what?”
“It’s just so stereotypical middle-aged male music.”
They stopped at a light and he turned to her in mock offense. “Did you just call me old?”
“I called you middle aged.”
“Holy shit, you called me old.”
“No, I did not!”
They pulled into a parking lot that was very much not her apartment complex. Samira’s brow furrowed at the golden arch in front of her. “Why are we at McDonald’s?”
“Thought you would want something.” He gave her a knowing look. “Since you’ve had nothing since a granola bar at four am.”
“Are you tracking me?” she jabbed, hoping he didn’t notice the blush permeating her face.
He definitely did.
“Consider it part of being an attending.” And then the motherfucker winked.
They ended up in the parking lot, devouring egg McMuffins in silence. Well, except for Bruce Springsteen crooning lowly in the background. He had insisted on paying for her sandwich, despite Samira’s protests.
“It’s chivalrous," he had argued.
“Chilvary’s dead,” she had retorted back.
“Like hell it is.”
And now here they were, watching the sun rise slowly over a Pittsburgh McDonald’s.
“You know,” Samira started cautiously, afraid to break their peaceful silence. “When you texted me after I left, I nearly had a heart attack.”
He scoffed. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I assumed I was getting fired or something.”
“Why would we fire you?” Abbot said as he took a bite. “You’re the smartest person in the room. Smartest person in any room for that matter.”
She looked down at her hands, fiddling with the wrapper. “Are you just saying that so I stay on night shift?”
“I’m saying it because it’s true.” He put the sandwich aside, taking her trash in the process. “And for the record, I didn’t text you because you were in trouble. I texted you because I missed you.”
Samira coughed on her bite. “What?”
“I missed you,” Abbot said plainly, as if he had just told her to do an EKG.
Her face was fully red now. “No.”
His brows furrowed. “No?”
“You can’t…” Samira groaned and her head snapped up to meet his gaze. “You can’t say stuff like that. It’s confusing.”
Oh my god this was mortifying.
Abbot opened his mouth to talk before closing it, looking out the window. Samira could feel her blood thrumming through her veins. Fuck. She had just accused her attending- her fucking attending- of flirting with her. Maybe even implied she had been flirting, too.
He turned back to her with a look she couldn’t quite identify.
“Look, I’m sorry,” she began. “I know I overstepped and it was extremely inappropriate and-”
“Samira.”
His voice was so low it was practically gravel, sending shivers up her spine. He had never said her name before, and definitely not like that.
His jaw tensed and he continued, “What is it that you think I want from this?
This.
This relationship, this conversation, this moment.
She took a deep breath before answering. “It sounds insane-”
“I don’t care. Say it.”
“I feel like you’re flirting with me.” The words tumbled out before she had time to overthink them.
A muscle in his jaw twitched, the only sign he had processed what she had said. “And do you want me to be flirting with you?”
Samira huffed. “That’s not important right now-”
“Yes it is.” Abbot shifted away from the driver seat window to lean against the car’s median, mere inches from her face.
But she didn’t shift away. If anything, she leaned closer.
He continued, voice shakier than before. “Your intuition is right; I have been flirting with you. But let me be clear, Samira: I won’t do anything unless you want me to. If you want me to drop you off at your apartment and forget about this whole conversation, I will. If you want to move back to the day shift, I won’t stop you.”
“I want this,” Samira cut in, voice ten times stronger than she felt. “I want you to.”
And then he smiled. Jack Abbot, the man who had seen things she couldn’t even begin to imagine was smiling. At her.
“Thank god,” he murmured.
And then he was kissing her. Her breath dissipated from her chest, all her senses narrowing in on his lips against hers.
“God,” he breathed, moving his hands to softly cradle her head. Samira hummed as the kiss deepened, her teeth catching on his lip in a way that made his hands tighten around her. His tongue slid into her mouth and she let out a soft moan, hands roving over the planes of his chest. Yes, she knew the biohazard risks of kissing while they were still in their hospital clothes but frankly- for the first time in her entire life- she didn’t care.
Samira shifted her weight and tried to move onto his lap, a trick she had seen in a few movies. Instead, her knee met hard metal.
“Fuck!” she yelped, pulling away. Abbot was gripping his prosthetic, checking to make sure everything was still in place. “Are you okay?
“Don’t worry about me.” He chuckled and Samira analyzed his face. His eyes were still dark with want, lips swollen from kisses. Her kisses.
God, this couldn’t be real.
A gentle hand rubbed her back. “Want to do this somewhere else?”
She smirked. “What’s sexier than a McDonald’s?”
Laughing softly, Abbott gave her a quick peck on the lips before buckling his seat belt once again. Silently, they pulled out of the McDonald’s and back on the highway. Samira’s skin felt like it was buzzing with sensation. She had kissed her coworker, her attending. And he wanted to keep going. She wanted to keep going.
She fiddled with her fingers as they reached a red light. Without a word, Abbot moved a hand from the steering wheel to her hands, intertwining their fingers. Samira smiled softly, squeezing his hand. He squeezed back as the light turned green.
The ten minute drive to her apartment had felt excruciatingly long in the charged silence, but they had finally made it. Samira led him up the stairs and unlocked the door. Within seconds, she found herself pressed back up against it, Abbot kissing her again.
She giggled against his lips, fingers tangling in his short curls. This kiss was different from the previous one, all teeth and tongue and hunger. Samira gripped the fabric of his shirt, gasping as his hard chest pinned her against the door.
“Shouldn’t I, uh…” she trailed off as his lips moved down her neck, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin. “Shouldn’t I give you a tour or something?”
“Later, honey,” he murmured against his collarbone before biting along her shoulder. She gasped, pulling his face back up to hers.
“We can stop whenever,” Abbott breathed against her lips. “No pressure at all.”
She kissed him sloppily, saying into his mouth. “Don’t you dare stop.”
Samira knew it was impractical to do this against her door with her nosy neighbors across the hall, but she couldn’t get herself to move. Not with Abbot pinned up against her, hands tugging at her hair and kissing her like she was oxygen. She slid her hands under his shirt, relishing the smooth skin underneath. He groaned lowly before leaning back and letting her tug the fabric over his head. Her hands went immediately for his belt when he lightly grabbed her wrist.
“Easy there, Dr. Mohan,” he teased, nipping playfully at her earlobe. “Seems we’re a bit unequal here.”
And god, was that hot.
“Oh yeah?” she tried to tease back but it came out breathier than she intended. “What are you going to do about it?”
The fire returned to his dark eyes and Abbot’s hands were on her again, squeezing her boob gently and teasing the nipple through the fabric. Samira breathed heavily, letting her head rest against the door. He kissed from her neck down to the juncture of her shoulder before finally sliding his hands under her shirt. She gasped at the coldness of his skin.
“Jesus,” he groaned as she pulled off her shirt, standing in nothing but old jeans and a bra. “You’re beautiful.”
Samira’s face flushed with embarrassment, so she kissed him again before her brain could spiral. His fingers played with the waistband of her jeans, toying with the button.
“Can I take these off?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she nodded and gasped as he yanked the pants to the floor, helping her to step out of them.
“God, Samira,” he rasped against her ear. “You’re so fucking perfect. It kills me every day I can’t touch you.”
Her eyes rolled back. “But you can now.”
She felt his mischievous grin. “I sure as hell can.”
The hand on her waist trailed lower and lower, causing her skin to break into goosebumps with each touch. She was so wet it hurt. Finally, he cupped her where she ached the most and she cried out, eyes shutting.
“Jesus, Samira,” Abbot murmured as his palm grazed against her clit through the thin fabric. “So wet. Is this all for me?”
She met his gaze. “Yeah.”
He kissed her again and moved his fingers slowly under the fabric, giving her time to pull away if she wanted. Not that she did. No, she never wanted him to ever move away again.
Samira tensed up at the first brush of his fingers against her folds. His thumb traced soothing circles against her clit and she finally felt her body relaxing, her sharp breaths turning into soft moans.
“Please,” she whispered, gripping Abbot’s shoulders as he teased her. “I want more.”
He kissed her forehead teasingly. “So greedy.”
Samira whimpered as his first finger slipped into her with ease, massaging the sensitive spot deep inside her. Her hips rolled against his hand, his palm steadily moving against her clit.
“Good girl,” Abbot murmured into her ear. “Taking it so well.”
“More,” she moaned and he added a second digit, causing her back to arch against the wood door. He took the opportunity to press wet kisses along her neck and breasts, fingers pumping faster and faster. She could feel him everywhere so vividly it was terrifying.
“Abbot… please…” she blabbered as he picked up speed, hitting that spot that made her vision go blurry over and over. “Oh god, yes… right there, yes…”
“Are you gonna come for me, Dr. Mohan?” he taunted. She would have smacked him if she was capable of thought, but at the moment she just cried out later. Without warning, he slid in a third finger. “Come on, Samira. You can do it.”
“Oh my god,” she whimpered, his words shooting her over the edge. She came with a long shout, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as his hand continued moving. It felt so good, it had never felt this good before. Each thrust sent shivers down her spine until her body felt limp, Samira sagging against the door.
Abbot pulled his fingers out of her panties, cleaning them off with his mouth before kissing her temple softly. “Atta girl.”
Despite the fact she couldn’t feel her legs, Samira's eyes couldn’t help but trail to the ever-growing bulge in the front of Abbot’s jeans. His own gaze followed her, his jaw tightening. “We don’t have to do anything else.”
“Bedroom,” she rasped, still trying to catch her breath. “Now.”
Taking his hand, she guided him through the house, desperately trying to ignore the wetness once again pooling in her underwear. Finally, she opened her bedroom door and pressed Abbot against the wall, kissing him hungrily.
“Payback for earlier,” she teased and reached between them to cup his hardness. Abbot groaned- a loud and filthy sound- and thrusted lightly into her grip.
“If you keep doing that, this isn’t going to last long,” he warned.
Samira grinned wickedly. “Then make me stop.”
His eyes turned feral and he pushed off of the wall, setting her down on the bed. Slowly, he kneeled onto the mattress and let his leg adjust.
Her brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he snapped.
“Liar.”
Instead of firing back, Abbot gripped the edge of her underwear and yanked them off, the cold air causing her to gasp. His body slotted over her, fingers once against trailing up and down her thighs.
“Already so wet again,” he murmured as he placed soft kisses across her face. “Are you like this at the hospital, too? Always so wet and ready?”
She moaned in response, keening towards his touch. “Just shut up and fuck me, Abbot.”
He grabbed her core and she yelped. “I have a first name, you know.”
“Jack.” She could feel his pulse jump under his skin. “Please.”
After that, he didn’t hesitate. Abbot pulled off his own pants and boxers and Samira’s jaw dropped at the sight of him. Sure, she had taken glances at him before. But that when he was leaning over her station or she helped clean out his gunshot wound. Just stolen looks she thought were discreet. But now, here he was for her to gawk at.
His brow furrowed at her expression. “What?”
She wrapped her hand around his length, kissing him. “Not too bad for an old man.”
They stayed like that for what could’ve been hours, lips on each other’s lips and hands exploring skin. He had seemed to grow fond of the freckle on the underside of her right breast, while she couldn’t help but trace the scar jutting across his lower ribcage.
“Abbot,” she murmured against his lips. “Fuck me. Please.”
He laughed darkly and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
She could hear him fumbling through his pockets in the other room and Samira couldn’t help but wonder why Abbot had been carrying a condom in his jean pockets. When he came back, rubber in hand, she eyed him.
“Why’d you have that in there?”
He scoffed as he rolled the condom on. “I like to be prepared.”
“Uh huh. Sure.”
“And a little optimistic.” Abbot winked as he positioned himself back over her, fingers lightly trailing against her jaw. “You say the word and we stop, got it?”
She smiled and kissed him again, pulling his chest down to hers. Samira’s heart spiked as she felt his tip nudge her entrance. “Abbot, please.”
He stood up and pulled her to the edge of the mattress, realigning himself. “Deep breath, baby.”
Samira cried out as he entered her in one hard thrust, her nails scraping against the sheets as she fought to find any purchase. “Jesus, Abbot…”
“You’re so tight,” he mumbled and pulled back slowly before thrusting again, beginning to set the pace. “Samira, you feel so good.”
“Faster,” she pleaded. “I can take it.”
He pinched her hip lovingly. “I know you can.”
Abbot widened her legs and thrust harder, turning Samira’s shallow breaths into shouts and moans. She could feel him everywhere, hitting that spot deep inside of her with every jerk of his hips.
“Abbot…” she whimpered. “Jack, I’m close.”
“I know, baby.” He sped up his hips even more, the bed creaking beneath them. Samira felt her body lurch farther up with the mattress with each press, the shear force enough to send her flying across the room. But Abbot’s hands held firm on her thighs and hips, holding her steady as he fucked her senseless.
“I never thought this would happen,” he gritted out, reaching down to rub her clit. “Do you know how long I've waited to touch you? To see you like this?”
Samira whinnied as her peak grew closer and closer. “Jack…”
“Let go, Samira,” he panted, his own thrusts growing more sporadic. “Come for me.”
If she thought the first orgasm was strong, this one was a whole other level. Her mind went blank as she gripped Abbot’s wrists, feeling him drill into her one, two, three times before trembling with a groan. He collapsed on top of her, chest against hers.
“Good girl,” he mumbled against her skin. “You did so well.”
That sent another wave of pleasure through her and Jack stroked her clit until the peak was over, leaving her shaky. He climbed onto the bed, near her but not touching her. Giving her space, Samira realized. In case she regretted this.
“You okay?” she asked quietly, taking Abbot’s hand.
He chuckled softly. “I’m more than okay. It’s me who should be asking that.”
“Well,” Samira began, the teasing tone back in her voice. “I think you’re the first guy I’ve slept with who knows where the clit is.”
That earned her a full-hearted laugh. “Guess the medical school debt was worth something.” He turned onto his side, brushing sweaty strands of hair away from her face. “Seriously though, are you okay?”
Samira’s body suddenly felt heavy, the exhaustion of the shift and their… extracurriculars catching up to her. Before she could over think it, she scooted closer to Jack, leaning her head against his chest.
“I’m more than okay.”
After that, sleep clouded the rest of the details. She vaguely remembered Jack cleaning her up with a washcloth before putting the blankets over them. She remembered the soft kiss on her forehead and his chest becoming her pillow.
But most importantly, she remembered when he thought she was asleep and whispered, “Good night, Dr. Mohan.”
Yeah, she’ll definitely remember that for a while.