Archive of Our Own

It wasn't often that Luke Anderson, orthopedic surgeon and committed healer, wanted to kill someone. Right now, as he stared down the falsely sympathetic face of the hospital administrator, he was seriously considering making an exception.

"Dr. Anderson, you have to understand, at some point, people are just malingering. They can recover at home," Simon Tallbright said, his eyes widening a little as he gave a slow nod. "I understand the instinct to keep them until every little thing is resolved but we can't afford it. Insurance won't cover it, and I know you surgeons don't like to think about the business side of things, I need to make sure people get paid."

"This isn't," Luke grit his teeth, forcing himself to not start yelling. "A matter of malingering. You're asking me to send people, sometimes people who don't have stable housing, home with open wounds. Or in tremendous pain. Or too confused to remember their aftercare instructions correctly."

"That's why we have a social work department. They'll figure it out. I just need you to write the orders. Reduce the stay time by twenty percent, Dr. Anderson."

"You know what would reduce stay time," Luke said, feeling a little desperate at this point. "If we were actually staffed appropriately. We have two open positions in orthopedics alone, and the hospital is still missing a medical director, and—"

"We have a temporary director, and it's a tough job market, Dr. Anderson. We're doing what we can." Simon looked at his wall clock, making the movement obvious. "I have a four o'clock. And I believe you just finished your shift. I won't keep you."

Luke stared at Simon for a long moment, trying to find something that would make the man understand just how desperate the situation was. No words he found beat the incontrovertible reality that Simon cared about money more than he cared about people. It was pointless to argue, unless he could find a regulation that would back him up. Luke gave a curt nod and left.

He waited until his car door was closed and he was out of the hospital parking lot and safely down the highway before letting his temper show. Luke shouted in angry frustration, letting the sound rasp in his throat and the noise echo around his car.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. He'd left Los Angeles because he was burning out, too many people and too broken of a system. He'd been looking for an escape hatch when Dr. Benjamin Higgans, Luke's oldest mentor and a genuine friend, called. Ben shared that he was now medical director of a small but prestigious teaching hospital in Colorado. It had seemed like a perfect lifeline. He'd be a department head, get to teach new surgeons, and work under a medical director that he genuinely liked and respected.

Except, Ben had a family emergency, and had put in for a transfer to be closer to his loved ones. He was gone before Luke ever arrived, and Luke was left alone with an understaffed department, a hoard of eager and often useless medical students, and Simon Tallbright.

It had been two months, and Luke was exhausted.

Forty-five minutes later, Luke arrived at his temporary "home." He was still living out of a suitcase, he hadn't had time for anything so banal as unpacking. Besides, he needed to find a new place. With how often he was on-call, and how often emergencies happened, Luke was stuck driving back and forth so much that the fifty minute long commute was entirely untenable.

Luke dry-swallowed two ibuprofen for his pounding headache and collapsed on the bed. He was asleep in minutes.

And awake sixty-three minutes later, when his cell went off.

When he called the hospital, he breathed a small sigh of relief when his most competent second year resident was on the other line. Maybe there was a chance he wouldn't actually have to come in.

"Ninety-year-old, female, hip fracture due to fall," the resident, Sunny, recited. "Complication due to tumor in the right hip socket. Heavy internal bleeding." Her voice was rote and clinical. Luke still didn't know where her nickname came from, but she didn't answer to anything else. He had never heard her real name. He could check with HR and learn it, but that seemed unsporting somehow. But she was one of the least bright and cheerful people he knew. Ironic naming was his best guess.

"What's the attending saying?" Luke asked.

"Doctor Martin is already in with a vehicular trauma case in the ER. He's been in surgery for the last three hours. There is no other attending."

Luke sighed and swung his legs off the edge of the bed. "Get her prepped, I'll be there in an hour. Sunny, you talk to her."

"Understood," Sunny said.

"No," Luke said. "I don't mean find the nicest first year you can still bully into talking to the patient. I mean you let her know that she's going into surgery, and answer any questions."

"I don't bully first years."

"Sunny," Luke hit the speakerphone button and pulled on a clean shirt. "I know you."

"I'd be better suited to doing the chart review and discussing the procedure with the anesthesiologist," Sunny almost whined. She didn't, she was too dignified for it, but it was close.

"Sunny." Luke looked in the mirror to see what his fine, dark-brown hair was doing. Not too wild. He finger-combed it into place as he looked for his shoes.

"I'm not good at reassurance," Sunny hissed.

"Then it's time to practice," Luke said. "Goodbye, Sunny, I'll see you soon and if anyone tells me you made the patient cry I'll have you cleaning the on-call room restrooms for a week."

"You're a cruel master," Sunny replied, without any real bite. "Fine, see you soon."

Sunny didn't make the patient cry, though Miss Jocelyn Forthright did admit once she was woke up from surgery that she maybe hadn't quite understood the technical terms being thrown around.

"We're working on that," Luke said with a smile, as Sunny flattened her lips from the other side of the bed. "Everything's looking good. We'll follow up in the morning to see how it's going, just focus on getting lots of sleep tonight."

He could technically go home again. He was on-call, not on-shift. But there was every chance he'd drive fifty minutes out just to need to turn around and come right back in. He'd rather get the sleep. He turned to walk toward his office. It was the one beautiful thing about his position as the Director of Orthopedic Surgery. A private office with a closing door.

Luke shoved three chairs together and collapsed down onto them. His medical training served him well, and he was out in seconds.

His cell went off in the dark hours of the night most often seen by drunks at bar closing, night-shift security guards, and panicking students. Luke grabbed the phone and rasped into it, "Anderson."

"We've got an incoming femoral reconstruction after vehicle crash. They're coming via air transport," Sunny said.

"You're getting all the interesting ones tonight." Luke yawned and shook out the sleep. "ETA?"

"Fifteen minutes. OR is being prepped."

Just enough time to get coffee. That would hopefully help beat back the sleep deprivation headache hiding somewhere around his sinuses.

Luke convinced the coffee vending machine to make him a monstrosity that included three espresso shots in a mocha latte, and chugged it down. It would have burned his taste buds if he still had any to burn off, and he felt almost human when he tossed the cup in the trashcan and pivoted in the hallway to speed walk his way to the OR.

He made it three steps before he stumbled to a halt, the hallway blocked by his OR nurse with her head bent over a clipboard, scribbling furiously as a figure in the uniform of the EMT air transport explained some detail of the accident.

"Why is this happening in my hallway?" Luke snapped. He didn't usually go in for the surgeon bluster, but he had a job to do, and so did they, and this was not the place to do it. "This should have been handled at the nurse's station."

Betty, the nurse who had run the nighttime surgical suite since before the invention of paper money and would continue to run it after they all were dead, was utterly unimpressed by Luke's grump. "It's happening in the hallway because this fine young man has kept a fifteen-year-old from panicking that they were going to lose their leg for the last hour and twenty-six minutes of transportation, and the kid didn't want to let go of him until the anesthesiologist put him under. So no, I didn't ask Mr. Torres to wait at the nurses station."

Luke took a breath, and let it out slowly. "Of course. I'm sorry." He turned to the air transport paramedic, really seeing him for the first time as a person and not an out-of-place obstruction. He had warm brown eyes and a shock of curly brown hair. Younger, but not painfully young the way fresh medical students looked these days. There was enough steadiness to his posture and weathering around his eyes to make Luke think he'd been doing his job for years, and took pride in being good at it. "Thank you for helping keep them calm."

Mr. Torres tilted his head, and narrowed his eyes a little as he considered Luke. Then, his face broke out in a warm smile that creased the corners of his eyes, and Luke felt an unexpected frisson of attraction when it pointed right at him. "An actual surgeon apology?" Torres laughed. "Never thought I'd see the day. Alright, Betty my dear," he turned away from Luke, and pointed back at Betty, and Luke shushed the little voice inside of his head that was sad to lose the man's attention. "I'll let your surgeon get to his life-saving, and hopefully leg-saving. I'll make sure the duty nurse has the rest of the history."

He gave Luke a wink as he strolled past him. His elbow brushed Luke's and the skin under his coat prickled in awareness of proximity for a long time after Torres had left.

"I think the kid bruised Gabe's forearm, he was holding on so hard," Betty said, looking back at Torres' retreating form.

"Gabe?"

"Gabriel Torres. He's one of the good ones. Steady." She gave him a look, that said, unlike some unwise surgeons who try to bully OR nurses and nice EMTs just doing their job.

Luke held up his hands. "Why don't I just get scrubbed up and see what we can do about that leg, hm?"

Betty sniffed, but followed him into the prep room and gave Luke and the rest of the surgical team the history she had gathered. The air evacuation had been done from a rural area, tractor accident, left leg caught near the combine. Significant damage to bone and muscle, from left leg to left thigh.

Luke, Sunny, and the other surgical assistants talked through their options as they scrubbed. This was the part of the job he loved, fixing things that had broken. Sure, it was a shit time to be awake, but it was a shit time to have a torn up leg, and Luke was here to do his best to make things right.

Luke stared at his soup. He had reached the point of exhaustion where he needed to eat, but food didn't sound appealing. He'd force it down in a second, he just wanted to feel sorry for himself for a minute first.

"There you are!" said a vaguely familiar voice, and the grinning form of Gabe Torres slid in across from him. "I just got done with my shift—four more transports, none nearly as exciting as yours. I kept asking and they said you were still in surgery. How's our boy?"

Our boy. Luke liked that possessive our more than he wanted to. The idea that they shared something, Luke and this kind, competent EMT he had been rude to. "Prognosis is good," Luke said. "No complications so far."

"Glad to hear it. Asked around about you, apparently you're hot stuff. Big city doctor, come to the little mountain town," Gabe put on a provincial drawl that sounded like it belonged in Georgia, not Colorado.

"There are well over three hundred thousand people in the surrounding area," Luke said flatly. "Such a small town."

"Well," Gabe said, obnoxiously continuing the drawl, and why did Luke find it so charming, "we do all right but we're just a li'l speck compared to Los Angeles."

Luke chuckled weakly, and looked down at his soup. He offered, "More nature out this way."

"Is that why you came?" Gabe asked, leaning in, looking genuinely interested. Luke wasn't sure what to do with that. He was rusty when it came to having a social life.

"It was a draw," Luke said. "And it was supposed to be a chance to work with an old friend. He left just before I got here, though."

"Ah, that sucks," Gabe said, and somehow managed to sound genuinely regretful on Luke's behalf.

"Yes," Luke said faintly, and stared down at his soup. He sighed and set down his spoon, reaching up to rub his temples.

"Maybe I should have asked about your prognosis, huh?" Gabe asked, with a smile and a tilt of his head.

"Nearly falling asleep into my soup," Luke admitted, letting his fingers trace circles around his hairline. It felt good. "I'm probably going to excuse myself to go back and nap in my office."

Gabe clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Didn't you just work the overnight? Go home."

Luke sighed and shook his head. "Home's an hour's drive away. And I'm on call. I'll have to come back here sooner or later."

"Why live so far away?" Gabe sounded horrified.

"I'm new, it's just temporary while I find a place." Luke tried to shake off his exhaustion, and summon some humor. "And I naively thought the traffic would be better."

"We can't be worse than Los Angeles!" Gabe protested.

"No, but in L.A., if a car accident blocks a lane we just go in one of the six other lanes. Here you have to drive three miles around."

Gabe wrinkled his nose and nodded, acknowledging the point. "This is why I'm a big fan of helicopters. But come on, you can't sleep in your office."

"It's not so bad," Luke smiled. "Better than the on-call suite, that's for sure. Slumming it with the residents. My office has armless chairs"—Luke wiggled his fingers like a magic trick—"if I put three of them together it's a pretty good bed."

"This is a travesty," Gabe said, tapping the table with every word for emphasis.

"I wonder if I could at least get them to comp me for an air mattress," Luke joked. Well, maybe not such a joke. If they weren't going to hire enough staff, it was the least they could do.

"You need a house, not an air mattress, come on, put that in a to-go cup. Hurry it up." Gabe stood up from the table and snapped at Luke's soup.

Luke blinked at him. "What."

"I live five minutes away. And I have a bed," Gabe spoke slowly, like it was obvious. "You just stitched a boy's leg back together, I'm not going to let you sleep on shoved together chairs."

Luke's confusion rapidly faded to alarm. "I can't—"

"Why not?" Gabe was suddenly serious. It was a shift from his easy, joking tone, but not out of place on the young man's face. Luke felt like he was seeing the paramedic's cool head in a crisis, sorting through the options and applying the best. Gabe leaned closer and asked, "Really, why not? Three minute walk to the car, and five minutes after that you could be sleeping."

"I—" Luke looked for an objection beyond I can't and didn't find one. It wasn't normal, it was downright strange, Gabe was practically a stranger. But he was a stranger that had let a scared kid hold his hand until it bruised.

And Luke was so tired, and a bed sounded really lovely.

"Yeah," Gabe said with a grin. "I'll go get you a to-go cup."

Which was how Luke ended up at Gabe's kitchen table, eating his to-go cup of soup while Gabe changed the sheets on his bed. Luke tried to protest that the couch was already a clear upgrade, but Gabe just tsked and walked back into the bedroom with arms full of clean linen.

Gabe emerged, and looked at Luke's empty container. "So, want me to tuck you in?" he asked with a wink.

Luke wondered what Gabe would do if he said, 'Yes.' His flirting seemed as natural as breathing, with no actual expectation of a response. Luke was pretty sure that flirting back would just throw him off his rhythm. Luke managed a mumbled, "Think I'll manage," and headed toward the bedroom.

Luke noticed pictures of family up on the wall, a whole clan of cheerful folks. A stunning curly-haired woman and broad-shouldered man featured in many of the photos, and Luke figured that was probably Gabe's parents. No surprise he had inherited their good looks.

Luke slid between the fresh sheets and smiled at the floppy bunny hanging out on Gabe's side table, along with a stack of books that had a thin layer of dust on top of them. Luke's eyes were heavy and closing before he could notice anything else. Sleep took him quickly.

Luke's pager buzzed five hours later, and he came out of sleep bleary but refreshed. He had answered, "Anderson," and was halfway through the explanation—wrist fracture after falling out of a wheelchair—before he realized he was in someone else's room. The oddness of it struck him in a way it hadn't when he was half-asleep.

"I'll be there in fifteen," Luke answered.

"Oh!" the resident making the call sounded pleased. "Are you in your office?"

"No, I, uh, got a room nearby," Luke responded, his eyes falling on that floppy bunny. It looked friendly in the midmorning light. "I'll see you soon."

Luke stumbled out of Gabe's room to find a sleepy Gabe lifting his head from the couch. Luke's heart sank in his chest. "You should have taken the bed if you needed to sleep too," Luke chastised, as some heat crept into his cheeks. He had let Gabe take him home and then stolen Gabe's bed.

"My mom woulda killed me, y'ra guest, " Gabe said, his voice thick with sleep. He waved a lethargic hand over toward his kitchen. "Muffins. Yogurt. You eat, I'll wake up enough to drive you back."

"No," Luke said firmly. "I'll take a cab. You've been more than hospitable. Please, go back to your own bed."

"Not gonna argue with more sleep," Gabe said, proving that there was some sense in him after all. "Take a muffin," he ordered, as he vanished into the bedroom.

Luke stuck his head in the kitchen and found that Gabe didn't just have muffins, he had made muffins. Luke was warmed by the gesture, and he was oddly emotional as he bit into a homemade chocolate muffin, and returned to his nonstop job.

Outpatient days were busy, back-to-back surgeries with far fewer breaks than Luke should get. But it was still a known rhythm, and he wasn't on-call. There was a certain peace to knowing how his day would go. Full of messed up knees, mostly.

Luke actually got a break, too, a full fifteen minutes to do with as he pleased. He was heading vaguely in the direction of his office when he heard the thudding pulse of a helicopter touching down. Almost without his conscious direction, his feet turned and headed toward the roof emergency entrance.

It had been two weeks since the strange, exhausted nap on Gabe's couch. He hadn't been back, since, but he had seen Gabe around. Gabe seemed to show up wherever he was at more and more, particularly at the end of Luke's shifts. They'd grab coffee sometimes. Gabe was good company, easy to talk to and easy to be with. He hadn't stopped the casual flirtation, and even that was nice, that little frisson of excitement with no real pressure for it to turn into anything else.

Luke didn't want to interrupt Gabe while he was working, and he definitely didn't want to be roped into an emergency consult. But there was a drink machine near the roof entrance, and it really did make the best vending machine mocha. Luke would treat himself and just…see what he saw.

As he approached, he heard Caleb Tanner, one of the ER doctors, announce, "Patient is determined to be dead upon arrival." Luke's steps slowed. That probably wasn't something he wanted to walk into, people might feel obligated to get him up to speed. Luke pivoted, and started walking down the side corridor that would take him toward his office again. As he walked, he heard Gabe.

Words weren't clear, but Gabe's tone, strained and a little sharp, came through. As he slowed in the hallway, he could start to make out words, "...doubt yourself with something like this. You do the best you can, and sometimes you still lose people."

Before Luke could find some room to duck into, Gabe rounded the corner, a young-looking redhead trailing him. Luke stared down at his empty coffee cup, giving Gabe every opportunity to ignore his presence.

But instead, Gabe said, a little too quick and loud, "Oh, Doctor Anderson! Thank you for meeting me. Sorry, Max, I have to talk to him."

Before he quite understood what was going on, Luke was being dragged around the corner by his elbow, Gabe looking stressed out and agitated.

"You okay?" Luke asked gently, once they were far enough away that Max seemed unlikely to trail them.

"No," Gabe said, refreshingly honest. "Younger guy, late thirties, heart attack. Hard one to lose, and there's a newbie on the rig, and they… fuck." Gabe leaned back against a wall and closed his eyes. He tipped his head forward and gently thunked it back against the wall again. "I was holding it together fine. But then Max started freaking out and then I was trying to calm him down, but he just got on my last nerve."

Luke was struck by an urge to slot his palm between Gabe's head and the wall, but instead he just reached forward and squeezed Gabe's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said.

"No," Gabe pushed off the wall, dislodging Luke's hand. "I'm sorry. It sounds bitter and selfish, now that I'm saying it out loud." Gabe scrubbed at his face tiredly.

"Gabe," Luke said with a rueful chuckle, "I run a department at a teaching hospital. New kids are nice when they remind you about the wonder, and how to keep your empathy going, all that. But… they're exhausting too. Especially when you're already dealing with hard things."

"Yeah," Gabe said with profound agreement. "Thanks for being my escape hatch. I just needed a minute to get myself together before I land in the crew lounge with him exhaustively picking through every detail, trying to figure out what we did wrong."

"Ugh," Luke said, wrinkling his nose sympathetically. "Do you need to go to the crew lounge?"

"I mean, I guess I could keep hiding in the hallway," Gabe offered, a ghost of a grin starting to find his face again. "But he's bound to find me eventually, and that's not a great look, you know?"

Luke thought of something that might help. He fished in his pocket, found his office key, and offered it to Gabe. "Take this, go catch your breath in my office."

Gabe blinked over at Luke. "I can't take that."

Luke had been half hoping he'd say that. "As a wise man once told me, why not? It's payback." Luke waved the key insistently.

"I think they arrest EMTs that break into surgical director's offices." Gabe looked at the key like it might grow fangs and try to bite him.

"Then tell them to call me." Luke reached out and took Gabe's wrist. Gabe gave a shaky inhale, but let Luke maneuver his hand so the palm was face-up, and curl his fingers around the key. "Third floor, east wing, 321," Luke said softly.

"You gonna come with me?" Gabe asked as his fingers tightened around the key, and Luke wasn't sure if it was flirting, or an honest question.

"No, I'm back to my shift soon. Take the space for as long as you need. I've got a spare key. Just...take care of yourself, so you don't traumatize that poor kid by exploding all over him."

"Probably a good idea," Gabe said, tucking the key in his pocket. Then he reached out, a little too fast, and pulled Luke into a hug. "Thank you," Gabe whispered. "Really."

It took Luke a minute to work out where his hands should go, but eventually he got them settled along Gabe's waist and hugged him back. "No problem," Luke said, squeezing Gabe a little. "Just returning the favor."

After his shift, Luke went back to his office. He knew Gabe wouldn't be in there, he'd heard the chopper take off and land again, but he was still a little disappointed to find it empty.

Empty, except for a post-it note stuck to his computer monitor.

How do you live like this? Your calendar is a nightmare, you don't have a day off where you're not on call until the third of next month! I'm requesting it off too - call me if you want to hang.

And there was Gabe's phone number. Luke took his phone out, carefully programmed the number in, and stared at it. He didn't call, but the possibility of it felt like hope.

Two days later, Luke still hadn't called. It wasn't rude yet, he told himself. Besides, he thought as he looked at the clock and pulled out his phone, there were some standing commitments that already weighed on his meager free time. Luke dialled the only number he had memorized by heart.

"Luke," his sister answered. "You're not dead, that's a relief. I was about to order a search party."

"Hey Liz, not dead," Luke affirmed. "Just dead on my feet. I'm so tired. This is like med student days all over again."

"Oh fuck that. We did our time. We're too old to live on three hours of sleep."

Elizabeth Anderson, Luke's twin, his confidant, and the person that had dragged him through med school, would know what she was talking about. She had set her sights on plastic surgery in Los Angeles, kept her head down and did her time with punishing hours and brutal working conditions, until she had the credentials to open her own private clinic. She was still a driven, determined, and outrageously talented doctor, and she was the best and scariest person Luke knew.

"And yet," Luke said tiredly. "We don't have a medical director. You know they're going to go out of compliance in replacing him. So all the department heads are pitching in for that, while still trying to run our own departments, which are horrifically understaffed. We've got half the surgeons we should! And they're not aggressively hiring. With all that, the asshole in charge is trying to rush discharges when we don't even have enough staff to do the follow-up right when the patients are in the building."

"God," Liz sounded disgusted. "Just come back to Los Angeles. The pay is better and you're already dealing with the same stress."

Luke slumped down in his chair, pressure pounding at his temples. "Liz, I can't. I was burning out, you know it."

"You're still burning, love," Liz said, not unsympathetically.

"I will leave medicine before I go back there," Luke said emphatically. Leaving medicine was impossible, but so was returning to the life that had been killing him. Medicine was the only thing he'd ever done, but he was so, so tired. "I'll be okay," he said weakly. "It's just until the positions get filled. I even have a day off on the third."

"Right." Liz's voice was as dry as Sauvignon Blanc." And you're going to spend it reading medical journals. Luke. You have to come back. How am I supposed to harass you into actually having a social life if you're not around. You're going to shrivel up and die in that hospital."

"Relax," Luke said with a chuckle. "I'm fine. I am going out, as a matter of fact. I have a date."

Liz was silent for five long seconds. "You have a what?"

Luke smiled, smugly. "You heard me," he said, falling into the comfortable rhythm of teasing his sister.

"Details!" Liz demanded.

Luke took his time drawing out the word, "No."

"Luke I swear, you had better tell me—"

"No!" Luke said, feeling something like delight for the first time in a long time.

"He's not real." Liz laughed, delighting in their long-established teasing. "He does not exist. Selfies or nothing."

"We'll see how the date goes," Luke replied. "I'm not going to send you selfies from a bad date."

"Or a really, really good one," Liz said suggestively.

"We can only hope," Luke said with a laugh.

As he hung up the phone, he chuckled to himself. He had to text Gabe now. Backed himself into a corner with that one.

So, hiking?

To Luke's surprise, his phone actually rang in response—Gabe was calling him.

"I thought the youths of today went in for texting," Luke said when he answered. "I was trying to be hip and relevant."

"Texting is not hip and relevant," Gabe said. "So this is Luke. I wondered, since I never actually got your number in response."

"You could have asked. Via text. Which is still more relevant than a phone call. How old-fashioned, sir."

"But I wouldn't have known, and I wouldn't have gotten to hear your dulcet tones!" Gabe replied cheerfully. "So, you want to go hiking? With me?"

"No, I was going to go by myself," Luke replied, deadpan. Breaking into exasperated affection, he answered, "Yes, with you. I'd like to get to know the area a bit better."

"Great, I've got some wonderful places we can go…rate your skill, beginner, medium, expert?"

"I've never spent the night outdoors, but I'm not afraid of pushing myself? I did some hiking in the mountains around L.A., before."

"Fabulous, I know the trail. We can pack a lunch, eat there."

"Sounds great," Luke responded.

Gabe took a minute before replying, and then he sighed and said, "Okay, awkward question time."

"Uh-huh?" Luke replied, nervously.

"I'd just rather figure this out now than halfway up a mountain. Is this a date? I mean, can this be a date? I mean, fuck, you're probably married or something. Don't worry about it, I won't make it weird, I just wanted—"

Luke laughed. "It's a date."

"Really?" Gabe sounded surprised and delighted, all at once.

"I mean, I wasn't sure until your little breakdown there but…yeah, I'd like to go on a date. I'm not married. Single, have been for awhile." Luke probably should have stopped talking then, but for some reason, he kept running his mouth and added, "Not—I'm not really looking for anything serious. Or, uh, fast, or…I don't know."

Luke winced. Any hopes he had of being the handsome, erudite surgeon were rapidly vanishing.

"Damn it," Gabe said while chuckling. "I was counting on you being the smooth one. Guess I'm going to have to step it up again."

Luke sighed. "It's been awhile since I've had this talk."

"We'll muddle through together," Gabe said optimistically.

"Well, since we're trying to talk. You're not, uh… put off by the age difference? Or the fact that I'm head of Orthopedics?" Luke had turned it over in his head, part of the reason he'd had such a hard time calling. Gabe was younger than him, and had a shining sort of handsomeness that was hard to deny. Normally, if someone like Gabe flirted with him, there would have been a voice in the back of his head that said, 'they're in it for the money.' But that wasn't around, with Gabe. Luke still wasn't sure why.

"I mean, no? I can see why you'd ask but…you're hot as hell, Luke, you've gotta know that. And you're not my boss. The air-transport EMT is partnered with the hospital, and our chopper is based here, but I'm not actually employed by the hospital. You couldn't get me fired. I just like you. I guess I should ask you the same question, though. You worried about the age thing? Or the, I live in an apartment and probably make like, a quarter of your salary in a year, if that?"

"No," Luke answered honestly. "I mean, maybe I should be, but you've always been really easy to talk to. And you're suggesting hiking as a first date, I don't feel like you're trying to take me for all I've got and run with the money."

Gabe laughed. "First date. I like the sound of it. Implies you're willing to give me another chance."

"We'll see how the first one goes," Luke said, ridiculously excited that Gabe was excited.

It had really been too long since he'd done this, if he was getting this worked up over a phone call.

"Just so you know," Gabe said. "I'm not really trying to rush things, either. We'll just keep talking, and seeing what we're both comfortable with, okay? And now I have a better idea about the romance quota I can get away with on the picnic."

"Picnic? This packed lunch just got an upgrade," Luke said. "Is there gonna be a basket?"

"If you want one, baby, I'll get a red checkered cloth and everything. Cliche as fuck."

"You're the sweetest," Luke said, only partly joking.

"It's going to be great," Gabe said. "We're going to get up at five, hike to a waterfall, and eat lunch at like...ten thirty."

"Five in the morning? Gabriel Torres, you are aware this is my day off, right?"

Gabe was silent for a beat, before he responded, "Welcome to hiking culture." The words were the same banter, but they lacked the effortless toss-off they'd had before.

"Everything okay?" Luke asked.

"Yeah, yeah. You calling me Gabriel threw me," Gabe admitted. "Not many people full-name me."

"Sorry, should I not?" Luke asked.

"No, I liked it, coming from you. Surprising, not bad. Anyway, you moved to the mountains, keep up!"

"Merciless," Luke said, while his mind repeated I liked it, coming from you. "You're merciless."

"You know it," Gabe said, low and suggestive, and something shivered down Luke's spine.

Gabe was, in fact, merciless. Merciless in a cheerful way, that defied common decency for five o'clock in the morning. Luke stared longingly in his bed, wondering if this was really the best use of his time. He could be sleeping. Or reading medical journals.

Gabe made up for it, though, by being excellent company. He set a brisk pace, but not a brutal one, and had no problems when Luke wanted to pause and admire some of the scenery. They talked easily, about hiking, about nature, and eventually about what it was like, growing up near the mountains.

"We've been locals my whole life. My mom is a pilot with the forest service, my dad's a firefighter. They met doing wildfire relief. They're both pretty much the coolest people I've ever met, and it's really no surprise I wound up racing around in a helicopter trying to save people's lives. Apples, trees, you know the drill."

"Got any siblings?" Luke hummed and stroked his chin in mock consideration. "Let me guess, secret service? Or maybe coast guard rescue, something like that?"

"No," Gabe laughed. "I'm an only child, thank goodness. I'd hate to imagine what the world would look like if there were that many more Torres's in it. What about you? Let me guess. Youngest child of three, and there was already a politician and a lawyer in the family."

Luke barked a surprised laugh. "Close! It was my parents who were the politician and the lawyer."

"Seriously?" Gabe asked with a laugh of his own. "Oh, hey, wait, bluebird!" They both stopped to stare as a cheerfully plump bird with beautiful blue plumage flit from branch to branch.

"Don't get that in Los Angeles," Luke said. "I mean, there might be some living in the corners of the city, but they're probably escaped pets."

"Yeah," Gabe said. "So, son of a high powered moving and shaking family, huh? How'd you wind up out here?"

"My mom and dad were actually both small-town folks. They grew up in the desert. Both of them had big dreams. My dad left my mom as soon as he got hired by some big law firm up north. Actually wound up being a boon to my mom's political career, he was sort of terrible, by all accounts. The rest of us moved to L.A. right around when I was in college."

"Ugh, that sucks," Gabe said, wrinkling his nose. "Glad your mom came out of it alright."

"It was hard for a long time," Luke said. "But we made it work, and it brought us together."

"So, we've got the politician and the terrible lawyer," Gabe said. "What about you being the youngest, did I get that right too?"

Luke paused before answering, negotiating a tricky bit of path. Once the slippery stones were behind him, he responded, "On a technicality. I am three minutes younger than my only sibling."

"Twins!" Gabe said, delighted.

"Yes," Luke admitted. "She's a doctor too. Plastic surgeon, absolutely terrifying, but I she's got my back and she knows me better than pretty much anyone else in all the world."

"So I just need to get her on-side, and I can have all the dirty Luke secrets," Gabe said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Getting her on-side will be the tricky part. I was not joking about the absolutely terrifying bit. She and her husband have absolutely exhausting arguments, but they both seem to love it. They've been married for…oh, god, fourteen years now? They've got twins."

"Wait, she is your twin, and she has twins?" Gabe stopped walking for a second, his curls bobbing as he shook his head.

"I know, right?" Luke said, happy for the chance to catch his breath. "I am never having biological children. Aside from the whole, I'm gay thing, I can't handle those odds."

Gabe's easy laughter at Luke's lackluster joke was as beautiful to Luke as any of the birdsong that surrounded him. You might be in a bit of trouble, Luke. First date and he was already waxing poetic.

The waterfall, when they finally got there, was breathtaking. Luke wandered away from Gabe, right up to the edge of the lake, where spray hung heavy around him. The cold wet air shimmered with rainbows as the sun pierced through. Luke took a deep breath, and for the first time in a long time, felt something like peace. Felt whole.

He eventually turned back to the picnic Gabe set up, and then stopped. He barked out a laugh. "Are those…electronic candles? So, when you said you were figuring out the romance levels for this date…"

"You're just real lucky I couldn't source rose petals on short notice," Gabe said, looking entirely unashamed. "I warned you, cliche as fuck. While still being fire-safe."

"Romantic and responsible, what more can you ask for?" Luke settled down on the red-checkered picnic blanket.

"If I accidentally started a forest fire I would get disowned," Gabe said seriously. "So, cityboy, enjoying nature?"

"It's good to get back to it. Like I said, I didn't grow up in Los Angeles. I'm a desert boy, really. I like wild spaces. The city never felt right, like it was always a shirt that was a little too small. Everything pressed, you know? But—" Luke gestured behind him to the waterfall. "Nothing like this in the desert. It's gorgeous."

"Bet it had its own beauty, though. I've been camping in Joshua Tree a few times, the stars."

Luke remembered a trip he took shortly after he got his licence. He drove just fifteen minutes away from his house, up on a little hill. If he turned one way, he could see the lights of the city, speckled behind him, the dark grid of the streets and clusters of lights between them. And then, when he turned his back to the city and looked out into the wild space—black aside from little outposts of light miles apart, and above him, a riot of stars.

"Yeah," Luke said, caught up in memory. "It's a quieter sort of place, hidden beauty but it's there. You just have to know how to find it. Like—" Luke started talking faster, thinking back to the landscape that had shaped him more than any other. "People think of deserts as dead places. But they're not. There's so much life, you just have to know how to find it. It hides in shade, it blooms at night, it is dry and brittle until the rain comes. After it rains, two days later, the hills are just covered in green. It's a hiding place, a waiting place. And there's something really lovely in that, I've always found."

"Luke." Gabe sounded almost offended as he spoke. He reached out and laid a palm on Luke's cheek. He tucked his fingertips behind the curve of Luke's jaw, and pulled Luke gently in. Luke went willingly, eagerly, and then warm lips were pressing against his, and they were kissing.

"I didn't know you were a poet," Gabe whispered, when he pulled back to let Luke breathe. "You can't just say stuff like that and expect me to keep my hands to myself."

Luke laughed, and kissed Gabe again. It was easy, in the way nothing else had been for a very long time.

They finished lunch, somehow, between trading kisses. "I had a plan," Gabe almost whined, when he finally pulled away from Luke to finish packing up the picnic basket.

"It seems your plan worked," Luke responded cheerfully.

"This wasn't the—"

Luke kissed Gabe again, because he could, because it was fun to see him get flustered. "Gabriel," Luke breathed against his skin.

Gabe shivered. "Cheating," he said, as he tangled Luke's fingers in his. "Come on, there's more I want to show you."

Gabe took them a little further along. The path wound through some trees, and then opened into a beautiful outcropping, the world stretching dappled green and brown beneath them.

Gabe gestured over the view. "This," he said with a little twisting flourish of his hands, "was where I was going to kiss you."

"You still can," Luke said, smiling over at Gabe. Gabe pulled Luke slowly closer, his warm brown eyes dark and intent, until he did exactly that.

"Okay, who's the model you paid to take that picture with you," Liz barked, after receiving Luke's text.

"His name is Gabe," Luke said with a chuckle. "He's an EMT attached to the hospital, and no currency has been exchanged."

On their second date, two weeks after their first, Luke had finally been brave enough to ask for Liz's photographic evidence. Gabe had laughed at the demand, and wondered why Luke's sister wouldn't just believe him? He agreed, though he did beg the details of just how long it had been since Luke had last dated in return.

Six years, was the answer. Six years ago the painter he'd loved, once, with sunset-red hair and a splash of freckles, had moved out of their shared house. It had been an amiable split, as far as these things went, but he'd said that Luke was more committed to his job than to his partner. That had always sounded damning to Luke's ears.

Gabe hadn't been scared off, though. He'd just smiled and said, sympathetically, "Know how that goes, more than one person's walked out on me after one too many three am wakeups. I'm still hopeful, though, that I'll find someone that understands."

And then he'd winked at Luke, and Luke had felt his cheeks heat, and Gabe had stolen Luke's phone to take a picture of both of them, Luke with undignified pink splotches over his cheeks and Gabe with a brilliant smile. Luke hadn't sent that one to Liz.

"Are you sure? Because if he's not a model my next guess is that you picked up sugar daddying. Which, hey, if it works for you. How old is he?" Liz asked, blunt as ever.

"I'm twelve years older than him," Luke said, grateful that he'd already had this conversation with Gabe. His sister would hear any second thoughts in his voice. "And considering I'm staying at his house, if he's trying to be my sugar baby he's doing a terrible job at it."

"Wait," Liz said, genuinely startled. "Luke, you're—what?"

"Not like that," Luke said. "He lives five minutes away from the hospital, and I haven't had time to find anything that close. He's put me up a couple times. I mostly sleep there when he's not around."

"Luke," Liz said, still sounding surprised. "This sounds serious. How long have you known this guy? It isn't like you."

The second date was also when Gabe had pressed his key into Luke's hand and said, "You're killing yourself and you don't have to. Come on, at least let me give you some time back." Luke had been too grateful for the offer, and too weak for Gabe's pleading eyes, to refuse. He'd insisted on taking the couch. It was still far more comfortable than his office.

"Maybe I'm trying something new," Luke said. "This is supposed to be a fresh start, after all."

"Maybe," Liz said dubiously. "How is work going, anyway? Hired a medical director yet?"

Luke groaned. "Let's not talk about that. It hasn't gotten better."

The reason it had taken two weeks to have a second date wasn't cold feet on either of their parts. It was the fact that Luke's next day off had been cancelled when one of his attendings called in and sheepishly admitted he'd managed to give himself food poisoning, and Luke had to cover his shift.

"This isn't healthy," Liz said.

"I know," Luke replied. "We should be staffed to a level that one person calling out doesn't mean I'm working for eleven days straight."

"Luke!" Liz was sounding horrified, now.

"There's no one else to cover it!" Luke replied, letting his anger come out. "One person's out on maternity leave and they're not hiring to fill their spot and the bastard of a hospital administrator just thinks we should be doing more with less. People have limits, and he refuses to see that!"

"Could we"—Liz had gravitas like she was contemplating a patient's medical record that was revealing a prior history of complications from surgeries—"kill the hospital administrator and make it look like an accident?"

Luke burst out laughing, which had probably been her plan from the start. "Could? Absolutely. Should? Probably not. We did take that medical oath to do no harm."

Liz hummed. "Sounds like this is a case for the greater good. Stopping quite a bit of harm. Let me know if you want me to make a trip out there."

"No," Luke said firmly, a little alarmed and just how much he believed Liz would commit murder to give him a better quality of life. "I can manage."

"Easier when you have a nice piece of ass on the side, huh?" Liz said with a sly chuckle.

"Never say that again," Luke begged, fervently. "Please."

Liz cackled when she hung up the line.

"Doctor Anderson," Sunny said, urgently cutting through the fog of Luke's twentieth hour on-call.

Luke was supposed to be home ages ago. But there had been back-to-back emergencies, and Luke didn't have anyone else he could tag in and get himself off shift. He was stuffed to the gills with caffeine, and his head was still blurry. But he'd been operating for ages, and he'd done it in worse conditions than this before. Not since his residency, but hey, that was the whole point of residency. To prepare you for things like this. Luke readied the scalpel again.

"Doctor Anderson," Sunny snapped. "Is that the nerve?"

Luke blinked up at her, and then back down at the surgical site. And there, in the cluster of fat, sat the myelinated sheath of the nerve. Luke pulled his scalpel back, too fast, clear to everyone in the room what he'd been in danger of doing.

Thank god he'd trained his residents to speak up if he was wrong. Thank god it was Sunny, with her sharp eyes and blunt tongue.

Luke's hand started to shake. That had never happened. The scalpel clattered when he set it down. "Doctor…Sunny." He really needed to learn her last name. "Please proceed."

"Uh," Sunny looked from Luke, to the scalpel, to his shaking hand, and then back to his face. Her features firmed, and she gave a sharp nod. "Doctor Anderson observing," she announced, and took up her own scalpel, and made neat, efficient cuts, safely avoiding the nerve Luke had nearly sliced through. The surgery resolved with no complications, no thanks to Luke. He made sure all the appropriate work was signed off on, and sent himself home.

Or…not home. His hands hadn't stopped trembling, and his eyes were so heavy. Luke couldn't even imagine driving fifty minutes. He couldn't imagine driving five minutes. He left his car in the parking lot and walked to Gabe's apartment.

Gabe was there, and he opened the door with a pleased look on his face. "Hey, wasn't expecting—you doing okay?"

Luke looked at him. He heard the words, he understood them, but his own ability to speak seemed lost. Luke just managed a rough shake of his head and walked past Gabe, heading toward the couch.

"You've been on call for awhile," Gabe said, his cheer undercut by some concern. "Time to get some sleep?"

Luke managed something like a nod as he sat down on the couch that served as his bed. He should kick off his shoes, and curl in between the sheets, but his feet felt too heavy. His body felt too heavy to move. He stared down at his hand. It was still shaking. It was like watching somebody else's hand.

Luke felt the couch depress next to him. Gabe's hand found his shoulder, and gave a little reassuring squeeze. "What's wrong?" Gabe asked.

Luke didn't have words. Everything. Me. I'm wrong.

"What do you need?" Gabe tried again.

Alcohol and oblivion. But that wasn't the right answer. Luke had watched too many friends crawl inside a bottle at the end of the day. He made a promise to himself that he wouldn't drink out of exhausted depression. "Maybe…some food," Luke finally said.

How long had it been since he'd eaten? He honestly couldn't remember.

"I can do that," Gabe said, and squeezed Luke's shoulder again, before going off to the kitchen.

He reappeared with a sandwich, an apple cut into neat slices next to it. It was such a school-lunch meal that a surge of fond affection broke through his exhaustion. Luke started eating, and only then realized how hungry he was. He finished the plate, and the water Gabe had brought with him—he was thirsty he must have gotten dehydrated. How had he let himself get this run down?

"You want to talk about it?" Gabe asked.

No. No Luke didn't want to talk about it. That would mean acknowledging the enormity of his mistake, and—and he had always been determined to not fall into the trap of thinking he was infallible. If he made a mistake, he would admit it, not hide it. Luke took a breath. "I fucked up," he said.

Gabe sat down on the couch next to him, knocked their knees together, and waited for Luke to go on.

"I was in the operating room and I wasn't fit to do the surgery, but I didn't realize it. I nearly sliced a man's nerve open. That would have been—he was just in for a broken ankle, that could have fucked up his ability to walk for—" Luke broke off, his jaw tightening. It had been too close.

"Nearly. So you didn't," Gabe said.

"Sunny caught me. If it hadn't been for her—if she hadn't spoken up—" Luke wasn't sure if he was making sense.

"You listened," Gabe said softly. "I know a hell of a lot of bosses that would just keep on fucking up instead of listening to someone who was supposed to know less than they did."

"It shouldn't have been her job!" Luke snapped, anger making its way through the exhaustion and bubbling up to the surface. "I should have had more support! I shouldn't have been on-shift for twenty fucking hours. I should have had another surgeon there, I should have had another three surgeons! Someone who isn't you, who isn't my sister three states away should see that I'm—but they don't!" Luke glanced over at Gabe, and his fury drained away. "Nobody here does, except for you, and I'm so fucking tired."

Those last words came out on a whisper, and Gabe leaned in. His earnest face was so close to Luke's. He took Luke's hands, and whispered, "You can quit."

Luke stared at Gabe, not really even comprehending what he was saying. It sounded nice, sure, walking away. But they needed Luke, Luke couldn't cut and run.

"You. Can. Quit." Gabe squeezed their joined hands together tighter for emphasis on every word. "You can walk away. You can be the brilliant orthopedic surgeon that I know you are somewhere that will support you, somewhere that won't put you in a position where you might endanger patients.

"Where?" Luke said tiredly. "This was supposed to be the better place. This was me getting out of a high stress job, but it turns out, there isn't an escape, it's all just bad."

Luke heard himself on that last word, and flushed a little at how petulant he sounded.

"Luke," Gabe said, sounding heartbroken.

"No," Luke said, shaking his head and squeezing Gabe's hands. "I'm sorry, I'm just being morose. I really should have gone home—"

"No!" Gabe said, pulling their joined hands towards him. Gabe lifted them to his lips and pressed a tender kiss to Luke's knuckles. More softly, he repeated, "No. You did exactly the right thing by coming here. I can't fix any of our shitty, stupid system, but you don't have to deal with it alone."

Luke gulped for air, emotion was catching in his lungs and threatening to come out as tears. Slowly he leaned in, and Gabe's arms were there to catch him. Luke shivered, and Gabe's hands stroked gently over his biceps, his back.

"You get more than one chance, Luke," Gabe said softly. "Maybe this wasn't the escape you'd hoped it'd be, but there are better places out there. Just might take a few tries to find them."

Luke sniffed in Gabe's arms. "Somewhere else won't have a charming EMT who lives five minutes away from the hospital and holds me while I have a breakdown."

Gabe hummed, and pulled back. He left a hand on each of Luke's biceps, and gave them an intent squeeze. "You know, Luke. I think I might be looking for something serious. I think I want to try for something long-term, with you. I won't be five minutes away from your new hospital, but we've got phones."

Luke's breath hitched. "What?"

"Don't tell me your hearing is going now," Gabe teased.

"We haven't even been on three dates!" Luke spluttered. "We haven't done anything more than kiss!"

Gabe grinned, and leaned in. "The kissing is pretty great," he said, before he captured Luke's mouth with his own. It didn't seem like they had known each other long enough for the kiss to be as comfortable as it was. Gabe pulled away slowly, resting their foreheads together with a little sigh. "I guess the sex could be terrible," he said.

Luke burst out laughing, and tucked himself on Gabe's shoulder. Even if the sex was awful, Luke didn't think he'd be going anywhere. He could do a lot worse than someone that kissed him like he was priceless and also made him laugh.

"You wanna give it a try?" Gabe asked.

Luke pulled back and gave Gabe a wan smile. "The relationship, or the sex?"

"Yes," Gabe said.

Luke was exhausted, but even more than that he was heartsick and burned out. He wanted to sleep, but he needed something good to hold onto. "I would," Luke said, and let Gabe pull him into the bedroom.

Luke woke up to his phone ringing. Next to him, the slope of Gabe's bare shoulders twitched, and Luke blinked at them in sleepy contentment. He had fallen asleep pretty much immediately post-coitus. Hopefully Gabe hadn't planned on kicking him out of his bed.

The phone's cheerful jingle kept going, and Gabe's riot of curls, even more outrageous after some sleep, poked up over his blanket.

"Sorry," Luke muttered, sleep-hoarse. He grabbed for his phone and sighed when he saw the name Simon Tallbright splashed across the screen. "I think I'm getting fired," he said before answering the phone.

Gabe mouthed at Luke, 'Remember. Quit.'

Luke gave a little nod, then turned his attention back to the phone.

"Luke!" Simon said, overly-cheerful. "Sarah told me about your little problem earlier today!"

Sarah? Luke's brow furrowed. So someone had reported him. He thought he knew everyone in the room, though, and none of them were named Sarah.

"I didn't realize you were working that many shifts without coverage," Simon said, sugary sweet.

Luke's spine straightened, as dread clenched around his ribs. Was Simon gearing up to make an argument that Luke had been negligent in his care of his patients? It was a stupid tactic, if it was. Luke had put in the request for support with hiring in writing, cc'd to HR. He would pull those records if he needed to defend his career. He might quit but damned if he was going to let this put a black spot on his licence.

"So," Simon kept going. "I've let HR know to push the open positions. We're going to hire for Dr. Cooper, too, while she's out on maternity leave, and hey, if the new person works out, we can free up space in the budget to keep them, too."

Luke almost dropped his phone. He gave it an incredulous look as he held it up to his ear again. "That's…good to hear."

"Of course!" Simon said, like he hadn't just dramatically reversed course on every policy decision he'd made so far. "I'd also like to schedule time with you to discuss the trauma center. I really think we can foreground it, the way Dr. Higgans had planned when he brought your talent into our medical network."

"I'd…be happy to do that," Luke said, still looking for a trap. "I'm giving myself a day's leave, though."

"Make it three!" Simon said, generosity dripping from every syllable. "We can postpone some of the elective surgeries. I'll see you Wednesday, get some good sleep."

And then he hung up the phone.

"What." Luke just stared at his phone. "Was that."

"That didn't sound like you getting fired," Gabe said, half-sitting up in bed with a curious look on his face. "Or quitting," he said pointedly.

"Yeah, it…" Luke shook his head. "Simon's saying he's going to increase hiring and prioritize the trauma department? I don't know why he would—he mentioned he talked with a 'Sarah'. Do you know who Sarah is?"

Gabe shook his head. "No clue. You think he's good for it?"

"I have no idea," Luke said. "None whatsoever. But I figure I shouldn't cut and run before I see whether all my dreams are coming true or if he's trying to build a case for medical malpractice."

Gabe looked alarmed. "Does he have one?"

"No," Luke said dryly. "I can go for his administrator's licence easier than he can go for my medical license. But I'd like to know whether or not I need to before I leave. And," Luke turned to Gabe with a smile. "I have three days off."

Gabe's eyes widened happily. "We might get to have our third date, and maybe even a fourth and fifth too!"

"It seems entirely likely," Luke said. "And maybe try for a few more rounds between the sheets, too. I look forward to seeing what I can do to you when I'm actually properly awake, Gabriel."

Gabe gave a happy shiver. "This plan keeps sounding better and better." He reached out a hand. "You feeling awake enough now?"

Luke started to reach for him, then paused, and pulled back. "There's another call I should probably make, first. I think I scared Sunny, yesterday."

"Good boss," Gabe said, dropping his hand and wiggling back down between the covers. "Well I'm right here whenever you're ready."

Luke pulled out his phone, and realized he didn't have Sunny's number. He called the office desk. "Is Sunny in?"

The nurse that answered nodded. "Yeah, Luke, think she's still on-shift. Let me grab her."

After a few minutes getting acquainted with the hold music, Sunny's brusque voice came over the line, "Luke? Did you sleep?"

"Yes," Luke said, hearing the care in the words. "I wanted to call and let you know that. And apologize for last night. You kept your head well, and handled things."

"Of course," Sunny said, still uncomfortable with praise. "Dr. Martin took over as the attending, but I talked to the patient myself. I didn't make them cry. I even stuck around while they asked questions. And didn't make the med student answer them."

"Growth," Luke said seriously. "I'm proud of you. I'll be back in a couple days. The hospital administrator called and gave me some time off. He also said that he's going to push our open positions. So, it's early days, we'll see if he's telling the truth, but things might be changing for the better."

"He'd better be telling the truth, considering how I threatened him," Sunny said.

"What?" Luke felt like he'd been saying 'what' a lot lately. It was a confusing time. "Shit, are you going to be okay? Let me know if you need me to come in and have your back."

"Yeah, uh, no. He's my dad," Sunny said.

Luke stared blankly at the opposite wall, and didn't say anything.

"You've really never actually looked at my HR chart? I'm Sarah Tallbright. Dad's an asshole, so I don't go spreading it around. And I try to avoid him. But I told him I was leaving at the end of my residency, and I was taking you with me, because both of us were too good for this shoestring ortho trauma department he's trying to turn us into. He wants to provide second rate care, he can find second rate doctors."

"Well," Luke said. "That's, uh, convincing. And no, I didn't look at your HR record. It's been a little awkward not knowing your last name, but as long as you don't mind being called Dr. Sunny, we can make it work."

"Might improve my bedside manner," Sunny deadpanned.

Luke chuckled. "Well, I'm a little sad it came to nepotism, but you've made a big difference for our department. Thank you."

"I should have maybe done it sooner," Sunny said. "I didn't realize how bad it was for you. You're good at keeping all that stuff off your students. I know you're the teacher boss and all but you can talk to us, you know?"

Luke looked over at Gabe. "I am...learning that. Thank you."

"Yeah sure, see you in a few. I've gotta go do…rounds. Talk to people."

"Remember, the goal is to not make the patients cry. The bathrooms await. I'm not going to let you be a bad doctor just because you've got a line in with administration."

Sunny laughed. "Good. Wouldn't want it any other way."

Luke took a deep breath after he hung up the phone. He turned to find Gabe's curious face looking at him.

"So," Luke explained. "Sunny is the mysterious Sarah. She's actually Simon's kid. She thinks he's serious. I…might be sticking around, after all."

"His kid?" Gabe barked a laugh. "Well, that works."

"It does," Luke agreed. "I won't hold you to the play for long-term, you know. I'll still be around all the time. We can take it slow. I might even have enough time to look for my own place, now."

Gabe furrowed his brow before slowly swing, "No." He pushed himself up in bed and tilted his head while he looked at Luke. "If you want to walk it back, we can do that. But, I am pretty well gone on you. I want you in my bed, not on my couch, and definitely not in some other house. I still want to try."

"Did you just invite me to move in with you?" Luke asked, amused, but not as surprised as he could have been.

Gabe nodded. "Classic third date activities."

Luke laughed and flopped back against the bed. Gabe propped up on one elbow and grinned down at Luke. "That's not a no."

"It isn't, you impossible, lovely man." Luke reached up and placed a hand along Gabe's jaw. "Come here," he ordered softly.

Gabe went.

Luke kissed Gabe, and kissed him again, and as their bodies pressed together, Luke let himself imagine a better future.