Chapter Text
Angela had always known that her time was going to run out. Every decision she had since she was out of high school was made like she was running out of time. Knowing she had limited time gave her a kind of fuck it mentality, and she could honestly say that she was thankful for it most of the time.
People were always in awe of her, telling her that she was brave and they could never. Angela wanted to scream that no, she isn’t brave. She just didn’t have time to get scared. They thought she was fearless, and Angela acted like she was until eventually, she believed it herself. So she did everything she wanted and more. She lost what she had and got what she wanted, and most times, that was enough. But not always. She failed more times than she could count until failing didn’t faze her anymore. She just kept moving until she forgot that she ever did.
This mindset kept Angela sane throughout med school and even after it, during her internship. She was held together by tape and glue, but at least she was never stuck.
Because the only thing sadder than a person who knows she is running out of time is a person who’s stuck, and Angela vowed to never be that person ever again.
So right after medical school in Massachusetts, she chose to be in a residency program that took her across the country. Luckily, there was no one in her life who would have told her not to go.
She moved to LA and has been here for almost two years now. She built a good life here. She even has a pretty solid group of friends and is living with one of them.
Her life is a lot different now than it was three years ago, and the urge to keep moving is tamped down by the difficulty of her residency program.
But all in all, Angela is fine. She’s alive. She’s spending her time doing whatever she wants. Most people could only wish to be as free as she is.
But freedom comes at a cost, and Angela thinks she still hasn’t fully paid hers.
Fortunately, that was the last thing on her mind last night as she downed shot after shot with Chanse, Tommy, and Courtney. Which turned into a one-on-one with Chanse after Tommy went off to flirt with someone and Courtney got picked up by her boyfriend, who coincidentally happened to be one of their attendings.
They were slowly winding down for the night when a blonde approached Angela, asking if she could buy her a drink. She exchanged a glance with Chanse, who smirked at her, knowing what was about to happen. After sending her off with a “use protection,” Chanse watched as Angela left the bar with the blonde after two glasses of martini.
Which was Angela’s first mistake and the catalyst of the horrible slew of mistakes she made the next day.
One of Angela’s rules in life is to never fall asleep on someone else’s bed. She’s a hit it and quit it kind of girl, no matter how awful it sounds. But hey, when you’re on a limited time, you kind of don’t give a crap about niceties anymore.
Unfortunately, after numerous shots, two glasses of martini and a 36-hour shift, she fell asleep right after making sure the girl she went home with was utterly satisfied.
Her eyes flew open when she felt a hand shaking her awake. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and she almost jumped out of bed when she realized what she had done.
The blonde girl Angela went home with watched her with a smile on her face as she scrambled to put on her clothes.
“I’m assuming this was a one-time thing,” the blonde stated without even a hint of question in her sentence, like she already knew how this was going to go.
“I’m so sorry, I need to go,” Angela replied, lowering the volume of her voice so she appeared apologetic. “I had fun, though.”
The blonde popped the dimples on her cheeks, probably trying to lure Angela into staying longer. “It’s still early, you know? We can go another round,” she offered, smiling widely as she approached Angela while being on her knees on the bed.
The sight in front of her warmed Angela’s face. The blonde was hot, and her being forward was tempting, but Angela’s phone started blaring, and she backed away.
Angela looked away from her one-night stand and slipped her feet into her shoes. “Let’s just keep last night special, okay?”
“So special it might happen again?”
This made Angela whip her head up. She has gotten used to requests like this after spending the night with someone. She flashed the stranger a small smile. “I really need to go.”
Angela could feel the blonde’s eyes on her as she made her way towards the door. She stepped out into the hallway without another word and was about to close the door when the blonde spoke again, making Angela give her one last glance.
“You don’t even remember my name, do you?” Angela just stared at her, convincing the girl she was right. “That’s fine. I don’t blame you, you were drunk. But will you at least remember last night?”
Angela’s grip on the knob turned tighter, and she decided to tell her the truth. Or at least a version of it.
“I won’t,” she answered truthfully, eyeing her, “but I'm really hoping you will.”
—
Angela was running late, and Chanse didn’t miss his opportunity to rub it in her face by sending her a barrage of messages that she is choosing to ignore in favor of dashing to the hospital.
She was still wearing last night’s clothes and would probably still reek of booze if the girl from the bar didn’t ask her to join her in the shower last night after their first round.
Her phone kept vibrating inside her pocket even as she got to the hospital, but she ignored it, beelining for the locker room so she could change into scrubs as soon as possible.
She had never been late before for a shift, and she was hoping that Shayne would be a little bit understanding since his girlfriend was the one who wanted to go out last night anyway. She wouldn’t have been late if she didn’t meet that girl from the bar. And she definitely wouldn’t have been at the bar if Court didn’t want to celebrate their first solo surgery.
Angela discarded her street clothes for scrubs, picked her phone out of her pocket and placed it on the bench in front of her locker. As she tied her shoes, she saw Chanse’s contact photo flashing on her screen. She let the call go to voicemail, deeming it less important than grabbing her notepad and stethoscope. She was about to head out of the locker room when she remembered her phone. She sprinted back towards the bench and saw that Chanse had stopped calling. On her screen however, was a new notification from Courtney.
Court
Peds Wing. Now.
Angela raised an eyebrow at the message. Courtney usually texts with more context, so this weirded her out. Plus, they were both supposed to be on Neuro today. Why on Earth were they in Peds?
Remembering she didn’t have time to answer all of these questions, she slipped the phone into her pocket and dashed towards the nearest elevator. She tried to remember what floor the Peds Wing is, having only been there once or twice, not yet getting the chance to be rotated there.
Peds is one of LA Gen’s most prestigious specialties, having only a few senior residents and attendings in its staff due to how exclusive it is. Interns aren't allowed to go on rounds there, and since Angela is only on her second year of residency, she has yet to try being on Peds.
Not that she’s leaning towards specializing in it anyway. She has her eyes on Neuro. Which is why she was so excited when Courtney started dating a Neuro attending, who is also rumored to be the next in line for the department head position. She doesn’t really need a mentor nor does she want one, but it would be nice to get to talk to someone specializing in brains, especially in her case.
Shaking that thought out of her head just in time to see the doors open, she bursted out of the elevator and ran towards the Peds Wing, remembering its location more clearly now.
Angela saw a group of residents standing by the nurses’ station and speedwalked towards them, hoping whoever called them out here didn't notice that she just joined the group. She saw the familiar outline of Chanse’s back and she beelined for him, even if he was at the very front of the group. Surely with a group this big, her late arrival would go unnoticed.
Boy, was she wrong.
Angela squeezed through the crowd to get through to Chanse, immediately tapping him to get his attention once she was beside her.
“You bitch,” Angela hissed in what she considered a whisper, making Chanse’s eyes go wide. Angela’s voice doesn’t exactly whisper; a fact that neither she nor the woman she has yet to realize was staring at her appreciated. “You were supposed to stop me from making bad decisions.”
“Angela,” Chanse warned, using his eyes to signal to her to shut up.
She ignored him, leaning her forehead on his shoulder as she groaned. “You should not have let me down that lost shot-”
“Eherm.”
Chanse stilled, his head snapping towards the direction where the sound came from. It wasn’t even a word, but it was enough for him to straighten his posture, inadvertently bumping Angela’s forehead, leading to her flinching away.
“Bitch!” Angela shrieked in surprise, rubbing her forehead as she felt for a bump. “That hurt!”
“Oh god,” Courtney moaned. “She’s going to kill you.”
Angela turned around, only now realizing that Courtney was beside them.
“No, I’m going to kill him,” Angela corrected, turning her head to give Chanse a deathly glare. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Chanse could feel the other woman’s eyes boring a hole through him, rendering him mute.
Not Angela.
Her.
Angela noticed her friend tensing beside her. “Okay, dude. You’re freaking me out-”
“Eherm.”
This time, the sound didn’t fly over Angela’s head.
This time, it landed.
And it stuck right onto her skin, squarely hitting her in the chest.
The sound didn’t sound scary. It sounded solid. Intentional. Like it was meant for her entirely.
And when Angela turned around to look at the person who made the sound, the phrase “meant for her entirely” suddenly felt like it had a different meaning.
The first thing Angela noticed was the frown decorating the stranger’s face. Her eyes zoned in on it, the realization that she was the reason for it hitting her a second later. She found herself mirroring it, but not for the same reasons the woman in front of her was sporting it.
Angela was frowning because the frown on the woman’s lips looked like it didn’t belong. Not on her face. Not when she was looking at Angela like that.
She forced herself to turn her attention elsewhere, but she was immediately pulled back, this time her gaze landing on the woman’s eyes.
Pools of brown intertwined with black blinked back at Angela, her breath catching in her throat at the depth of emotion displayed in them.
Angela recognized it immediately.
It’s the same emotion she sees every time she looks in the mirror.
Haunted.
It was another thing that looked out of place on the woman’s face.
Such beauty shouldn’t be marred by something as pedestrian as hurt.
Angela would have loved to stare into the woman’s eyes for a longer time. She would have loved to know why. If they were in another place, in another time, this woman would probably be staring at Angela like she was a breath of fresh air, a sliver of something easy and good.
But they were not two women who met in a bar. They were in the hospital.
And they didn’t even know each other.
Or at least, Angela didn’t know her.
But the other woman?
She already knew Angela.
She had already been warned against her.
Angela just didn’t know it. Had no idea why the pretty girl was looking at her like she crashed her car into a pole.
So instead of shrinking away, Angela did what she always does.
She smiled, popping her dimple, knowing that it dismantled so many pretty girls’ guarded demeanors. It was her saving grace, her smile never failing to get her out of trouble.
Except now.
Because instead of melting the other woman’s icy demeanor, it just made it worse. The frown Angela studied just moments ago turning into a full-on scowl.
And then the stranger opened her mouth.
“Next time, if you’re going to come in late, do not come in at all. Not everyone has the luxury of time, Doctor, and you’re wasting mine.”
Never has Angela’s smile fallen so quickly in her life.
Whatever hurt this woman didn’t just mar her beauty; it turned her into stone.
It’s a good thing stones don’t hurt you until you throw yourself at them. Or they throw themselves at you.
But looking at the carefully constructed exterior the other woman had so expertly put on, Angela knew that it was a battle she was never going to win.
So instead, she filed her into the Don’t folder in her head and tried to shake off the initial attraction that attempted to nest inside of her.
It was never going to happen, and Angela didn’t have time to chase after the impossible. Couldn’t chase after it. Couldn’t waste her already limited time.
That was the only rule on her list that held more weight than her hunger for getting whatever she desired, and it has kept her in line more often than she wanted to admit.
So no, she wasn’t going to chase an Impossible.
Even if it was this ethereal, hauntingly beautiful woman who also coincidentally happened to be her new attending.
That might have worked out for Courtney, but Angela already has her work cut out for her.
So she teared her eyes away from the attending and made eye contact with Chanse instead, figuring that was the safer option.
She was a Don’t, and Angela had to follow her own rules. She already broke one this morning. The responsible thing to do would be to not break any more rules.
She can do that. She is responsible. She can follow her own damn rules.
She only lasted three minutes before breaking another.
—
Amanda had been trying to ignore the woman gazing at her for the past ten minutes, pretending to listen to Ian introducing her and keeping her eyes on him just so she wouldn’t have to look into those eyes again.
Ian and Shayne arrived just minutes after she chewed out that resident for being late, thankfully distracting her and everyone else from what just happened.
It wasn’t their fault that she couldn’t shake off being bothered by the woman staring at her.
Amanda didn’t like being looked at. She didn’t like being studied. Her whole life, she was subjected to people watching her, keeping track of her every move, and making assumptions about her. And feeling that… woman staring at her made her throat feel like it’s closing up, like she was back in New York where everyone knew who she was and what she did.
But that’s impossible.
Nobody knew her here, or at least didn’t know about her. Not the whole story. And on the off chance that they did know her, they probably only knew about her family or her work, not her as a living, breathing person with her own history.
Back in New York, people only ever wanted to know Amanda because of her family. No one ever cared about her as an individual until right before she left. And only because they wanted to know what really happened. At first she pretended not to care, but soon enough the attention felt suffocating, and the only choice Amanda had left was to run.
And run, she did. All the way to the other side of the country where her reputation didn’t precede her. Only her name did.
In LA, people would only know her as the legacy doctor from the family of doctors. Not the girl who almost ruined her own life because she was stupid enough to believe she was invincible.
Here, she could start over.
But starting over didn’t necessarily mean starting something new.
In time, Amanda would learn that the difference was so infinitesimal that even she wouldn’t be able to figure out where starting over ended and starting something new began.
But that was in the future. Right now, she was holding steady under her watchful gaze, thankful for her years in society for teaching her how to appear unbothered.
“Dr. Lehan, as some of you might know, is one of the leading pediatric surgeons in the country. She’s brilliant and insanely talented,” Ian, the Chief of Medicine, rattled off, introducing her in such a nice way that Amanda had to tune it out because she had a feeling he was trying to give her a good first impression. Too late for that. “I have known her since she was in med school and have mentored her through her internship in Liberty Medical New York before I moved out here. She’s the future of Pediatric Surgery, and I am so honored that she has decided to accept my offer of being our new Interim Peds chief.” Ian turned to her, giving her a warm smile. “Welcome to LA Gen, Dr. Lehan.”
Shayne, her ever-supportive friend since their med school days, suddenly started clapping, which in turn, led the group of innocent residents to clap for her, too. “Interim Peds Chief. Nice!”
“Stop it,” she hissed. She then turned towards the residents and gave them a polite smile. “There’s really no need for that.”
Thankfully, the residents heeded her advice, stopping the clapping immediately. Amanda felt a strange sense of pride at how easily she got them to follow. Curious, she wondered whether they followed her out of respect or fear.
Fortunately for her, she didn’t care. Being feared and being respected both resulted in being listened to, and that’s all she really needs to do her job. And she planned on doing a very good job out here.
She was not going to be deterred by young bright-eyed residents, no matter how distracting they might be.
Ian turned back towards the residents, telling them they get to go on rounds in the Peds Ward today before the new Interim Peds chief decides which lucky residents get to be on their first ever Peds rotation. The eager doctors took this news enthusiastically, whispering among themselves once Ian walked away to pull both Amanda and Shayne aside.
“Amanda, I have a surgery in 30, so I am going to let you handle rounds on your own. These doctors are yours to torture for now,” Ian stated, smiling knowingly, alluding to Amanda’s reputation for being a hard-ass attending. Then, he turned to his Neuro attending. “And Shayne, you have a consult from Cleveland at 11, but I’m trusting you to make sure this one doesn’t make the youngins quit before then.”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “You hired me.”
“Don’t make me regret it,” Ian warned, sounding more like a father than a boss. “I personally like some of these doctors and would love to keep them here,” he said, patting Amanda’s shoulder before walking away.
Amanda turned to Shayne. “Any idea which ones I should try to be nice to?”
Shayne winces, turning his attention on the three people in front of the group. He had to fight off a smile when he saw Courtney seemingly comforting Angela. “Too late for that, bud.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Well, fuck,” Amanda groaned. “No use pretending to be nice then.”
“Were you really even going to,” Shayne asked, humoring her. Amanda’s actually nice when she wants to be. It’s just that a lot of the time, she didn’t want to be. “You haven’t even gone on rounds and you already have them shaking in their shoes.”
Amanda just smirked in response, leaving Shayne to ponder about it and walking back to her earlier position by the nurses’ station so she could start her first official workday.
She had a Peds Ward to run and a first impression to uphold. She didn’t have time to appease anyone’s shattered ego.
Amanda cleared her throat to get the residents’ attention, and this time, the entire group stopped in their tracks, turned towards the front, and focused on her.
“Welcome to Peds,” Amanda began, taking a chart off the nurses’ station and holding onto it as she started her pre-rounds speech. “I know for a fact that none of you have been assigned here before, and that’s for a perfectly good reason. Last year, you were babies. Baby doctors. This year, you’re going to be the ones handling babies, toddlers, kids, and teenagers who are sick, scared, and most of the time cannot tell you what hurts and where. These are children. They have a language that you will need to learn fast because they need you to be able to care for them. These kids and their parents will put their entire faith in you to help them feel better, and they will blame you if something goes wrong. So nothing, and I do mean nothing, can go wrong. Rule number 1 in Peds, no mistakes. There are no do-overs. Most of the time, there are no second chances. These kids, these tiny humans, as resilient and brave as they are, are fragile, and I want you to treat them as such. These are sweet, innocent kids who are hurting, and you will do everything that you can to make it not worse for them. If a kid wants a yogurt, you will get them a yogurt. If they want a bedtime story, you will pull one out from your ass and tell it to them. We are doctors. We don’t only heal kids, we take care of them.” Amanda looked into the unblinking eyes of the doctors in front of her, trying her best to make them understand how different her ward is from other wards in the hospital. “Some of you might think that that’s babysitting, and I’m not going to lie to you, a part of it is. But that’s what makes this specialty so different. In Peds, you need to genuinely care. Not just about their medical history, but about them. You will advocate for your patients who cannot speak for themselves. You will decide the course of action that gets them to live long, healthy lives. And you will do all of those while keeping them as happy as can be. I don’t care if you think it’s beneath you. In Peds, patient care always comes first. On this floor, the kids are the boss, and trust me, you do not want to piss off your boss.”
Shayne had to stifle a laugh as he took in the stunned faces of the residents. He has already heard Amanda’s speech before so he wasn’t as affected, but he can remember how it felt like a punch to the gut the first time he heard it.
He was about to walk over to them to take a chart and join rounds when he noticed a hand slowly rising in the air. Well, this is going to be interesting. Shayne backed away, content to watch the chaos unfold from a distance.
“Dr. Lehan?”
Amanda’s eyebrow shot up in surprise when she realized who was raising her hand. Nobody has ever done that before. Usually, there’s just silence after her speech. No one ever had the guts to talk after she did.
Amanda just stared at her, challenging her to talk without using any words herself.
Little did she know, Angela has never backed down from a challenge before. She was as defiant as she was confident, and in Amanda’s book, that is a recipe for disaster. Still, she wanted to hear what the girl had to say.
“You only mentioned Rule number 1,” Angela noted, her voice steady despite the throbbing in her pulse. She forced herself to look into the attending’s eyes, letting her know that she wasn’t spineless. “What’s Rule number 2?”
Amanda let the question hang in the air for a few seconds, taking that opportunity to stare this pompous resident down. She knew what the younger doctor was attempting to do. That little confident smirk on her face is enough evidence that she was trying to show Amanda that she was different.
Amanda’s eyes traced a path on the other woman’s skin from her face down to her neck, before catching herself and immediately retracting, forcing her sight to remain on the resident’s eyes. This was a dangerous game Angela was playing, and it rubbed her off the wrong way that someone was smug enough to try to get her attention this way. Amanda gripped the chart tightly. She wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid smirk off her face.
Unfortunately, she stared a little too long, and Angela caught her. The former had to watch as the smirk turned into a smug little smile, an indication of a victory won easily.
It made Amanda’s insides twitch.
She’s been in LA Gen for two days, and she already heard the rumors about Angela. She was warned about the innocent look on her face and the beguiling smile that people go crazy for. Shayne himself, the boyfriend of one of her friends, warned her against falling prey to the resident’s magnetic charm. Doctors and nurses alike are powerless against the walking sex appeal with good instincts, a dimpled smile, and a sense of humor. Angela had the makings of an amazing doctor, but she was a horrible, insatiable flirt, who was nothing if not persistent.
Amanda had heard enough. A decision was made without even having seen the storm of a doctor that was rampaging through everyone’s hearts. Angela was a strict No. She was to be kept at a distance; to be pushed away like a heavy oak door.
But even without the warnings, Amanda would probably have reacted towards Angela the same way. She would have frowned at the confident, careless way she carried herself. She would have glared at the glint in her eyes and the curious smile on her lips as she studied her.
One glance at her, and she would have already known to steer clear.
Angela reeked of chaos, and Amanda didn't like anything she couldn't control.
So she steeled her face and let her lips be pulled down in a pronounced frown, hoping it was enough to deter that curiosity in her eyes.
She didn’t need curiosity. She didn’t want to be seen.
She wasn’t here to be seen.
She was here to disappear.
And she couldn’t do that if those curious brown eyes wouldn’t stop looking at her like she was a mystery she wanted to unravel.
So she turned to the thing that she did best.
She tilted her head and breathed fire.
“Rule number 2,” Amanda uttered slowly, keeping her eyes on Angela just to make sure that the younger girl knew she wasn’t amused by her tactics, “is to look at yourself in the mirror before heading to my ward to check if you have marks on your neck that you need to cover up. You’re supposed to be a respectable adult. A doctor. Act like one or stay away from me and my Peds Ward.”
Angela’s eyes widened at the implication, her hand immediately flying off to her neck to scrub off whatever mark it was in panic. Amanda held her head high in victory, watching Angela’s stupid smirk get replaced by a blush on her cheeks that matched the marks on her neck that looked suspiciously similar to a shade of lipstick she used to wear.
The thought immediately sent Amanda frowning, unamused by the mental image that followed.
“Rounds,” Amanda announced suddenly, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention back on her. The residents snapped into focus, but no one moved. Everyone stared at Amanda with bated breath, waiting for additional instructions. “Did I say stand there and look stupid? I. said. rounds. Take a chart and run.”
The residents scrambled into compliance, stumbling over their own feet as they rushed towards the nurses’ station to get their hands on a chart, speedwalking past Amanda so they could go inside the Peds Ward before her.
All except one.
A few feet away from her, Angela stood firm, her eyes flashing defiantly when their gazes met.
Amanda’s heart beat thunderously, irritation flooding her entire body at the thought of a second-year resident so confidently disobeying her in her own ward.
If there was one thing Amanda hated more than being looked at, it was a person not knowing their place.
Angela was a fucking resident. She had no power over her.
Amanda opened her mouth, about to breathe another round of fire at the supercilious resident when her sight caught movement.
They held each other’s gazes as Angela walked deliberately slowly towards Amanda. The eye contact was intense, a challenge issued by a woman who had everything to lose, but she held her own weight.
Amanda couldn’t look away. She couldn’t let Angela win. So she kept looking at her, holding her gaze like it was a fragile thing she had to protect.
Around them, the hospital moved at its usual pace. Announcements were made over their heads; doctors were paged, nurses were called. A few feet away from them, past the double doors, Angela’s co-residents waited for both the attending and the resident to walk through the doors, exchanging curious glances and wondering if the latter was getting banned from rounds for coming to work with lipstick marks on her neck.
Angela moved slowly, wanting to milk every moment of this before the woman in front of her snapped out of it and remembered she held all the power here.
Eventually, the distance between them disappeared, and Angela still didn’t look away. Instead, she held her palm open.
This seemed to be the action that spurred Amanda’s nervous system back into action. She narrowed her eyes at the gesture. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Angela’s lips curled into a self-satisfied smile when she noticed the change in Amanda’s breathing. Batting her eyelashes, she said, “The chart, Dr. Lehan, please. We have rounds.”
Amanda felt like a bucket of ice was poured over her as she heard how steady the resident’s voice was, like she did not just challenge her attending’s authority. Like she didn’t care about the repercussions as long as she got to show that she wasn’t scared of Amanda.
She gripped the chart tightly, wanting nothing more than to drop it on the floor and remind the defiant resident who had all the power here.
But Amanda had an image to maintain. Thus, she looked the resident straight into her eyes and settled for shoving the chart onto her chest, a little more forceful than needed.
Angela had to bite her lower lip so she wouldn’t let out a groan of pain. The charting folder was made of metal, so if Amanda wanted to get her lick in by making Angela hurt, she was definitely successful.
A triumphant smile unconsciously made its way onto Amanda’s lips at the sight of Angela trying hard not to show her pain.
For all the warnings that she received about the resident who could sweep anyone off their feet, nobody had warned her that beating Angela at her own game would be this thrilling.
Amanda was most definitely going to enjoy this.