Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dr. Rio Vidal shrugs off her white coat and tosses it onto the chair in the corner of her office. With a sigh, she sinks into her desk chair, exhaustion pressing into her bones. Despite that long week, at 45, she finally feels like she has her life together. The grueling years of medical school and residency stole her twenties, but now? Now, she has a solid career, a respectable salary, and a work schedule that, while not perfect, is at least manageable. A personal life? Nonexistent. But that’s hardly a priority.

With a few more clicks, she closes her patient charts for the day. A whole week off stretches ahead of her. A week well earned and long overdue. Tomorrow, she plans to do absolutely nothing - Just take-out and movies in bed. Bliss. And then a few days later, an obligatory girls' night she’d been guilted into.

Just as she leans back, ready to savor the thought of freedom, a voice breaks through her moment of peace.

“Hey, Rio?”

Sharon’s head appears around the doorframe, her usual oversized quilted bag slung over one shoulder. As the hospital’s internal medicine coordinator, Sharon is the one who keeps the interns in line, assigns them to attendings, and orchestrates those painfully awkward team-building events.

“I just wanted to remind you about the new intern BBQ tomorrow afternoon,” she says with a bright smile. “I need you to bring hot dog buns.”

“Will do, Mrs. Davis.” Rio gives a sarcastic thumbs up. 

“It’s Shar-on” She reminds her for the hundredth time before disappearing down the hall. 

Rio exhales sharply. It’s not that she dislikes working with interns. In fact, watching them evolve from terrified baby docs into competent clinicians is, admittedly, rewarding. But this week has been brutal. She’d been counting on solitude and booze, and now, instead of a peaceful escape, she’s stuck entertaining a group of nervous 20-something’s over hot dogs and sodas. 

—

The next day is brutally hot. One of those “fry an egg on the sidewalk” kind of days that news anchors love to test for the sake of views. Whoever decided interns should start in July deserves to be shot. 

Rio considers skipping the BBQ. It’s not like Sharon could punish her for not showing up - one of the benefits of being an attending. But in the end, she pulls on a dark green tank top and jean shorts. She picks a longer pair, trying to maintain the illusion of “respectable attending” but one who knows it’s hot as fuck and she doesn’t want armpit stains. She gathers her hair into a loose ponytail, swipes on a little mascara and calls it good. 

The air conditioner blasts as she pulls into the parking lot. At the far end, she spots Sharon setting out condiments and chips. Somehow, she’s roped Steven Strange into manning the grill. Amazing, considering half the time he seems lost in another dimension, leaving his residents to fend for themselves while he meditates in a call room.

A few outpatient attendings linger, strategically avoiding unnecessary interaction with the interns. 

And there are the interns. 

Even from across the lawn, they’re easy to spot. A loose circle of bodies, standing together yet not truly interacting. They skirt around each other, avoiding direct eye contact, the awkward tension palpable. These are top-tier nerds with the social skills of a crouton.

It’s nothing like Grey’s Anatomy. No steamy hookups in elevators, no dramatic confessions. Just sweltering heat and buzzing flies amidst the dying grass of an unkept city park. 

“So Sharon, what fresh hell awaits?” Rio drops the buns onto the picnic table. 

Sharon throws her a look.

“I’m kidding,” Rio throws up her hands in mock protest. “As long as you don’t make me play two truths and a lie as an icebreaker.” 

“I came up with something far more interesting this year.” 

And that’s how Rio found herself in a makeshift circle, surrounded by the 2 other attendings who bothered to stick around and 7 interns who haven’t decided to bail yet. 

She takes a long drink of her too warm soda and unceremoniously plops down into the grass. The sun is oppressive and she feels the sweat rising on her back already. She shields her eyes from the too bright sun, choosing to look down and pick at a dandelion resting next to her ankle. 

Sharon jumps into the middle to introduce herself, and the unfortunate game. 

“This is a guessing game.” She starts handing out pens and small squares of paper to each person. “Write down an interesting fact or hobby of yours. One of our fabulous attendings will read them out loud and try to guess who they belong to!” 

The small crowd lets out a small, collective groan. 

Rio stares at the blank paper. Every year it’s the same - a week into their residencies and she won’t remember a single fun fact about them. She will know who has the ability to talk to patients like they aren’t robots and who gets their charting done on time so she actually makes it out of the hospital at a decent hour. 

She quickly jots down “I am scared of spiders.” Her generic go-to answer for these games every year. She folds the paper, once, twice into a perfect square. As she rises to pass the card to Sharon, she sees something coming toward the group. 

Well not something. 

Someone.

Based on her age and the fact that Rio knows all the attendings, she must be a new intern.

But what intern shows up as a welcome BBQ for their new job in that. 

Her high waisted jean shorts cut off at her butt. No, above her butt, the sloped edges of her ass hanging out the back. Despite the fact that she looks no more than 5’4”, her legs look impossibly long. The expanse of smooth, milky skin stretches down to her feet, adored in high heeled wedges completely inappropriate for the venue. Her brunette hair is tied up in a ponytail, but still reaches halfway down her back in messy waves. She’s wearing a deep purple crochet top, cropped to above her belly button. As she heads for the cooler without a word, Rio can see the criss-crossed ties forming three perfect bows across her bare back. 

Christ. 

Rio feels the heat coil in her belly at the sight of her. Then the heat quickly rises into her cheeks out of embarrassment for ever thinking of an intern like that. 

The brunette fetches a cold soda out of the cooler and starts walking toward the group. Rio tries to focus on the dandelion again but she can still see her out of the corner of her eye. The brunette doesn’t open the soda. No, she tilts her head to the side and presses the cold can along her neck. The condensation gathers on her skin before it beads and slides down her collar bones and disappears between her cleavage.

Rio swallows hard.

As if the gods themselves hate her, the girl then waltzes right next to Rio and plops down in the circle next to her. 

Rio rips the dandelion from the ground.

“Nice of you to finally join us.” Sharon hands the newbie her pen and paper while quickly explaining the rules. While most interns look at Sharon like this is another test they must pass, this girl actually looks bored.

“Why do the stupid attendings make us go to these things anyway?” The brunette turns to Rio. “It’s not like any of them even show.” 

“I’m one of those ‘stupid attendings.’” Rio bites back.

“Oh shit. Sorry. I didn’t expect that. I just thought you might be one of those “old” interns that started late.”

“You think I’m old?”

“Well not old. Just older. Plus I thought you were too hot to be an attending.” She says nonchalantly. 

“Excuse me?”

The girl just shrugs unapologetically. Apparently calling an attending hot before you’ve even introduced yourself is a perfectly acceptable intern move in her book. 

“I’m Agatha by the way.” She doesn’t even attempt to shake Rio’s hand. 

Instead, Rio sticks out her hand, “Dr. Vidal.” 

“Ohhh.” She doesn’t return the gesture, just mouths “Dr. Vidal” sarcastically like she’s mocking her. “But what’s your first name? ”

“Ha. Nice try.” Rio actually laughs at the girl, a smile forming on her face. It feels awfully close to flirting. Shit. “Dr. Vidal for now.” She shuts it down.

“Okay people!” Sharon is clapping her hands together to get their attention. “Pass those papers back!” 

Agtha rushes to scribble something, before glancing sideways at Rio, shielding her answer from her with her hands. Then she passes it back, a smug look on her face. 

A beat passes while Sharon gathers the remaining answers.

“Let’s put an attending in the hot seat! Dr.Vidal, I’d like you to come up and do the honors. Take a guess at whose fun fact belongs to whom!” 

The small group of fresh faced doctors look entirely too excited for a game that’s basically the equivalent of child’s birthday party entertainment. 

Hard to believe this group of newbies will be responsible for patient’s lives soon when today they are writing down “I play drums and piano.”

“Ummm, you?” Rio points to a girl with black hair with red streaks down the front. She sports black pants in 100-degree weather so Rio is guessing she’s the wanna-be rock star type. 

The girl nods. 

Rio guesses the next one wrong. “Collects watches” is the most generic, boring fact in the world - of course it belongs to Stephen Strange. 

“Thank you Dr. Strange for that fascinating fact…” Agatha snickers at the name. 

The next paper belongs to an intern named Billy, who turns out to be a twin. His brother, Tommy, is a lawyer. 

Finally, Rio grabs the last paper and slowly unfolds it. The writing is small, but elegantly scrolled across the page. She knows who it is, there is only one name that hasn't been called yet. 

“I…” she starts to read. And frowns. “I’m not reading that.” She crumbles the paper, her eyes dart around for a trash can. Finding none nearby, she pockets the paper. 

“Ok….Well I guess that’s a wrap then everyone! Check your emails to see which attending you are assigned to come Monday morning!” Sharon, sensing Rio’s uncomfortableness, jumps in, saving her.

“Wait! No one guessed mine!” Agatha springs up from the grass as the others begin to scatter. She stomps toward Rio, reaching out to grab her wrist.  

Rio’s jumps as her fingers circle her wrist. 

“You didn’t read my paper.” Agatha sticks the index finger of her left hand in her mouth, biting at the nail. Her other hand remains on Rio’s wrist. 

“Write something appropriate next time.” 

With that, Rio yanks her wrist out of her grasp and stomps toward her car. 

She doesn’t look back, she doesn’t slow down. She slides into the seat and peels away from the curb. The faster she drives, the more flustered she gets until she pulls into her driveway in record time. 

“Fuck!!” She hits the steering wheel, activating the horn and causing her to jump. She works to control her breathing, dropping her head to the steering wheel.

Finally, when she can’t take it anymore, she fishes out that little piece of paper from her pocket, smoothing it out against the dash to read the words once more. 

I want to fuck my attending .

With a little arrow pointing right. Exactly where Rio was sitting. 

In all her years working as an attending, this takes the top 3 for most brazen moments. The other two weren’t nearly as dramatic for her personally - the time a nurse’s husband showed up and punched the ICU doctor after finding out about their affair and the time a family member threatened to kill her because he thought they were conducting secret COVID experiments on his wife. Interesting antidotes, stories to tell over drinks with friends - but never in her years has any intern ever been so shameless and bold against an attending. 

It’s a ploy, she figures (and hopes). Just a way to try to get under her skin. Or a joke. 

Rio figures the best course of action is to ignore it. Pretend it never happened. Don’t give Agatha the satisfaction of knowing that Rio is really fucking flustered. 

She tosses the paper into the center console. 

— 

Rio spends the next few days catching up on everything she neglected during her 12-hour shifts - grocery shopping, laundry, tidying up the house.

A couple of work emails wait for her, including the list of residents assigned to her this month. She ignores it, knowing their names won’t make a difference. The first few weeks with new interns are always rough. Not only are they stepping into their roles as full-fledged doctors for the first time, but they’re also navigating a new hospital and an unfamiliar computer system.

She’ll bring her usual donuts on the first morning, though none of them will touch them until midday—when they finally realize they won’t have time for lunch.

She doesn't want to give herself a headache before the work week even starts. She’s had her headphones in most of the day, effectively drowning out any thoughts of the absurdity of the BBQ (and Agatha) with music. Because she refuses to let her, an intern, get into her brain. 

When her phone finally does buzz, she’s happy to see it’s Natasha texting to remind her to meet at dinner tonight at 7 for girl’s night.

She glances at the clock and realizes it’s already 6pm. Somehow, she spent the entire day avoiding her own thoughts, completely oblivious to the time. 

Cursing under her breath, she rushes into the shower, scrubbing shampoo into her hair before working it into a foamy lather. She steps back  into the warm water and tilts her head back, eyes closed, feeling the bubbly mixture sliding down her skin.

Without warning, the image of Agatha’s long legs in those too-short shorts slams into the front of her eyes. 

Her eyes snap open.

Nope. Absolutely not. 

Under no circumstance can she think of an intern that way . Regardless, the woman is twenty years younger than her.

Nope.

Jaw tightening, she turns the shower to ice cold, stepping beneath the freezing stream. The shock steals her breath, but she stays put, standing there until the shivering drowns out everything else.

—

Thirty minutes and one freezing shower later, she’s making her way to The Coven & Cork, a popular wine bar in town. The heat hasn’t let up, even as the sun dips behind the horizon, so she’s chosen a black spaghetti strap dress, sans bra. It’s just too damn hot to add any unnecessary material. A pair of black strappy heeled sandals complete the look. 

She texts Natasha as soon as she pulls into a parking spot. She gets a quick reply that she’s already got a table, just inside to the right. 

Just before Rio steps out of her car, she sees the paper from the BBQ still sitting in her center console. The one Agatha so obscenely scribbled on during their little game. 

She grabs it, folds it in half and shoves it into her purse. 

Rio has known Natasha since college, when they were paired together as roommates. They both started as pre-med, but Natasha jumped ship early on to work in cyber security. 

Natasha is always hoping for juicy hospital drama and finally Rio has something beyond rumors of nurses sleeping together. 

Rio steps into the dimly lit wine bar, giving her eyes a second to adjust to the light. She spots Natasha’s back from the door, just where she said, at a small two person. 

A couple of glasses of red wine and a charcuterie board later, Natasha leans in, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“So do tell me, Dr. Vidal, what’s the latest tea? Any of the newbie doctors hot?”

Rio coughs as her drink slides down her throat. Her eyes burn as she struggles to regain her composure. 

“That good, huh?” Natasha laughs. 

“Wrong pipe.” She finally manages to choke out while pointing at her throat. 

“So, one of them was hot is what I’m hearing.” 

Rio purses her lips and shakes her head like she’s rejecting the idea. 

“C’mon Rio. I’ve known for you what? 15 years? You’ve had a few flings in college. Our couple of drunken nights. And then what? One serious relationship.” 

Rio groans.

“This isn’t a dry spell anymore. It’s celibacy.”

“Okay. Fine” Rio huffs. “I have one story for you. About one intern. But it has nothing to do with me and my dry spell.”

“Sure…” Natasha gives her a knowing look but leans forward, fully invested in the impending gossip.

“Well we had the welcome BBQ for the new interns,” Rio starts. 

“Ohhh bad food and lawn games, sexy.” She lifts her eyebrows jokingly. 

“Well there was one intern who showed up….” Her voice trails off. Her eyes flick to the door. 

“What? Rio?” Natasha snaps her fingers in front of her face to get her attention. “Showed up what?”

“There.” She tries to motion with her eyes toward the door to Natasha’s right but she doesn’t take the hint. 

“Okay?” 

“No! Natasha. Right there.”  Rio grabs her chin and turns because low and behold, Agatha just walked in the front door. 

Like a cartoon character, Natasha’s jaw drops. “ That’s your new intern.” 

“Close your mouth, Natasha.”

“Sorry, it’s just, look at her.” She eyes Agatha up and down a few times. 

And Rio does.  

The deep blue suit set. The button-up, just barely concealing what looks like nothing underneath. The tousled waves she scrunches into her hand as she talks, a playful smile curving her lips.

Thank heaven above Agatha doesn’t notice her. She follows the hostess toward the back of the restaurant—presumably to meet friends. Or a date.

Neither of which should matter to Rio.

Because she is her supervisor.

The entire non-encounter throws Rio for a loop. Now, Natasha won’t stop asking about Agatha, but the truth is, Rio knows next to nothing about her. Sure, Sharon has a file on her somewhere, buried in her office. Rio could easily ask for it. No one would question it - just another attending preparing for upcoming rotations.

If she’s lucky, Agatha won’t be assigned to her for months. She might even be off on her endocrinology or cardiology rotations, floating outside the hospital entirely. No chance of running into her. No reason for this ridiculous flustered feeling to persist.

That’s all it is - just a reaction. Human biology…and anatomy…at play.

Maybe she just needs to get laid. Hell, maybe she and Natasha should bang one out for old time’s sake.

“Rio? Hello? Are you still with me?”

Rio finally blinks, snapping back to the present as Natasha’s hand waves wildly in front of her face.

“Was there something else about the BBQ that you were going to tell me?” Natasha seems a bit more concerned now, studying Rio’s face with a furrowed brow. 

Rio digs into her purse and pulls out the crumpled paper.

Natasha takes it, reading it over a couple of times. Then her eyes go wide. “Wait… is this about you ?”

“Yep. That little arrow?” Rio points. “Right where I was sitting.”

Natasha lets out a slow whistle. “So what are you going to do about it?” She asks, taking another sip of her wine. 

Rio gives her a confused look. “Nothing. I’m her supervisor. Plus, she’s what? 25? Which doesn’t matter. Because I’m like - her teacher.”

“That didn’t stop Derek.” Natasha says matter-of-factly. 

“Who?” 

“Grey’s Anatomy.”

Rio groans. “That show is fictional Natasha. Real hospitals are nothing like that. We are too busy with too many patients to fuck in call rooms.”

“All I’m hearing are excuses.” She jokes.

Rio swats at the air in front of her as if slapping Natasha away, but she just laughs. 

As Rio looks up, she sees it. Agatha walks casually across the restaurant, glancing to the side as if she’s searching for something, like the restroom. But her eyes don’t land on any signs at all. 

They land on Rio. 

Before she can say a word, Agatha starts walking toward her smirking. Panic flares in Rio’s chest as she scrambles for something clever to say, anything to break eye contact. But Agatha’s gaze shifts down, right to the table in front of her. Right to her paper on the table, now worn and creased from too much folding.

A wicked smile crosses her face. 

She strides up to their table, looming over them with a glint of mischief in her eyes. Rio expects her to speak, to quip something, but she just stares at them, a stupid smirk plastered on her face. 

“Can I help you with something, Agatha?” Rio finally breaks the tension.

“I could ask you the same,” she replies smoothly, tilting her head. “Is that my paper from the BBQ?” 

Rio snatches the paper off the table, crumbling it into her fist. “It was mine.” 

“You are a terrible liar.” 

A beat of silence.

Agatha glances around at the nearby tables, where diners are quietly engaged in their own conversations. Then, with absolutely no warning, she locks eyes with Rio and loudly exclaims in fake shock, “What kind of girl do you think I am, Dr. Vidal!” 

Rio’s eyes widen in horror as the surrounding tables fall into momentary stillness. The woman at the next table gives her a scandalized look. An old man nearby simply blinks in confusion.

But still, Agatha continues, now just trying to cause a scene. “An attending, trying to proposition her intern in the middle of a restaurant!” She gasps, clutching her chest in fake shock.

“I did no such –You came over here –I didn’t even –” failing to string together a coherent sentence. She can feel the heat creeping up her neck, settling in her cheeks.

Natasha says nothing, eyes darting between the pair like she’s watching a soap opera unfold. 

Agatha seems ridiculously pleased with Rio’s inability to quip back. She bites the nail of her index finger and lets out the most ridiculous (and definitely not adorable) giggle Rio has ever heard. 

Annoyed, Rio grabs Agatha’s forearm, yanking her hand away from her mouth. “Stop it,” she growls.

But Agatha just seizes the opportunity, dragging her now-saliva-coated finger across Rio’s arm like a napkin. As if that weren’t enough, she leans in close to Rio’s side. Her lips next to her ear. Agatha’s warm breath hits her skin in little puffs. 

“See you Monday, Dr. Vidal ,” She purrs in a whisper, but loud enough that Natasha could clearly hear. She straightens, offers a playful little wave, and turns sharply on her heel, strutting away without a second glance.

The moment she’s gone, Natasha bursts out laughing, doubling over and clutching her stomach.

“Oh you are so fucked!”

Chapter Text

Monday morning Rio walks into the internal medicine office, in her overly scratchy hospital issue scrubs, donuts in hand. The interns are already there, fashionable early as they should be. They sit at the long conference table in their brand new starched white coats, pockets filled with pens. 

“Dr. Vidal, I brought you a coffee!” An overeager boy greets her, shoving a hot coffee in a to-go cup into her hand. 

“You’re Billy, right?” She takes an appreciative sip. 

He beams like he won some prize. “You remembered!” (It was more like a lucky guess)

“And…” Rio struggles to recall her name from the bbq.

“Alice.” She offers. Rio nods.

Alice sits back in her chair and acknowledges with a lift of her chin, but says nothing. Rio likes her already, she seems no nonsense, focused. Billy frowns, clearly not content with his lack of personal attention. 

“Why are there only two of you?” Rio asks, grabbing her list of patients and scanning a few photocopies for the newbies.

Billy feels the need to speak up again. He’s already firmly planted himself as just a bit too overeager. It takes some tact to deliver bad news, a sense of confidence to convey a diagnosis to a patient. Billy is already like a dog waiting for you to throw a ball. 

“My email said Agatha was supposed to be joining us.” He starts pulling out his phone and scrolling to the email as he speaks. “I remember her from the BBQ and orientation and she…” 

“Of fucking course, it’s Agatha.” Rio groans, cutting him off. 

“I believe it’s Dr. Harkness now.” Agatha strolls in. She’s got her white coat folded and draped over her arm. She’s wearing custom, tailored jogger scrubs and heeled boots. Heels. In the hospital. Rio lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“Not to me.” Rio begins. “Despite your medical degree, you are still in training.” She speaks to the entire group now. “Everything you do from this point forward, comes back to your attending. It’s my license on the line, not yours. You don’t make a decision without consulting me first. You don’t so much as sneeze without asking me, or I’ll make sure the only patients you see are the ones guaranteed to vomit on you.”

“Seems a bit dramatic.” Agatha rolls her eyes. 

“Agatha, since you didn’t find it important to be on time for your first day, you get assigned Mr. Rogers. Alcohol withdrawal and liver failure. He was found unconscious in an alleyway. Oh and he has bed bugs.” Rio slides her the patient list for the day. 

A second later, Agatha’s name actually hits her. 

“Harkness?” She questions to herself, racking her brain for where she’s heard that name before. 

“Yes?” Agatha looks up for her paper as if summoned. 

“You’re Evanora’s daughter?”

“Shhh, don’t say it so loud. I don’t want people to know.” She makes a disgusted face and looks around at her colleagues. They are wholly engrossed in their patient’s charts on their computers. Billy keeps shaking his head as he looks over lab values, seemingly confused. 

“Yeah the name isn’t obvious at all.” Rio points out. “You’re the hospital CEO’s daughter. Her name is on a fucking building.”

“So maybe you shouldn’t give me the bed bug patient after all.” Agatha teases. 

“Nice try. I’ve met her, you know.” Rio mentions. “She doesn’t seem like the type that would mind you suffering a bit. For the learning experience and all.” 

Agatha lets out a long sigh before plopping down at a computer and opening her patient’s chart for the day. For a while, it’s silent, just the sound of clicking keyboards and scrolling mice as they prepare for the day. At least at work, Rio feels like she has the upper hand, despite Agatha’s earlier antics. 

Rio is prepared to go greet her hospitalized patients far earlier than the interns, as expected. Then the interns will do the same - now completely on their own. Their goal is to function as independent physicians, with Rio as their fallback to keep all their medical decisions in check; to make sure they don’t accidentally kill anyone. Eventually, they will all meet up together to complete “rounds” and discuss all the patients, their diagnoses and treatments together. That’s when Rio will really get a sense of their medical knowledge and how prepared they are for these long three years ahead. 

There is just one last order of business before she officially starts the day.  

“I’m sure I’m going to regret this, but send me all your phone numbers.” She writes her number on the top of the patient list still sitting on the conference room table. “We can start a text chain. Feel free to text or call me with questions. I know it’s your first month so things are still new. Don’t hesitate to reach out sooner rather than later. If you text that your patient is already dead - I consider that too late.” 

She looks over to see Billy frantically taking notes while Alice listens intently.

”I believe people called it a ‘group chat’ now.” Billy muses. 

“Great, thank you for calling me old.” 

Across the table, Agatha is ignoring the conversation, tapping away on her phone, lips pursed in an amused little grin.

As Rio steps into the hallway, heading toward the patient rooms, her phone buzzes. Someone must be kicking off the text chain. 

But it’s not a group chat. It’s from a single number.

Was this a sly way of getting my number? 

Agatha. Of course.

She has to take it one step too far everytime. Despite trying to maintain all professionalism, she feels her chest flutter as she reads the words. Rio bites her cheek to remind herself that she’s in the hospital, as her supervisor. Under no circumstances can she even reply. 

So she begins typing anyway. 

I have a feeling you would have found a way to give it to me. 

Rio sees the little typing bubble pop up right away. Then disappear. They begin again. So maybe Agatha’s not as self-assured as she gives off. 

Careful, Dr. Vidal. Someone might think you are flirting with me. 

Rio feels a wave of adrenaline surge through her as the elevator doors open to the hospital floor. She shoves her phone into her white coat pocket and decides against replying again.  

—

Two hours later, Rio is just about finished seeing all the patients for the day. Just one left - the alcohol withdrawal patient with bedbugs. 

She turns the corner to find Agatha sitting at the nurses station, leaning back in a desk chair, her legs propped on the countertop. She’s surrounded by 4 female nurses, all seemingly enthralled with some story she’s telling. Her hands fly animatedly and the nurses lean in closer, eyes locked on hers as she continues. Suddenly they are all bursting out in laughter, smiling white toothy grins at her like she hung the moon. 

Rio watches a young blonde, likely a nursing student, put her hand on Agatha’s forearm as she laughs, giving it a squeeze. Agatha glances up at her and smirks. The same damn smirk she gave Rio at the picnic. And the restaurant. Apparently she gives them to anyone who gives her an ounce of attention.

The jealousy flares in Rio’s chest. She knows she has no right. None at all. Agatha isn’t hers. She can’t be hers. 

But that ugly, green monster of jealousy snarls again as Rio thinks they shouldn’t be touching her. 

She starts to stomp across the hall, toward the small crowd with no plan in mind. Halfway there, her mind starts listing possible ways to break up the small clique, to get Agatha away from them. 

Shoving Agatha in a supply closet and shutting her up with her mouth comes immediately to mind. 

The jealous beast inside smiles at the idea. Rio’s fingers curl into small fists as she imagines yanking her away, fingers pressed into the small of her back, urging her forward. She would open the small supply closet door, she knows exactly where the rarely used one is - and pull Agatha into her by the collar of her white coat. The smell of her invading her nostrils - Lavender? Vanilla? She wants to shut her up with her mouth, her tongue prying open her lips to taste her. Her fingers buried inside of her until Rio can feel her shatter for her. 

Then she thinks about how many beers she will have to consume tonight to make these thoughts go away enough to sleep. Or how many orgasms she needs before Agatha isn’t haunting her dreams. 

Instead, she lands on a different kind of wicked idea; tamer, but no less calculated. She turns back down the hallway, to the other nurses’ stations, and picks up a hospital phone. The list of resident pager numbers sits directly in front of it, easily accessible to staff. Her finger scrolls down the list until she finds what she’s searching for - Agatha Harkness, MD.

She dials. Waits for the familiar beep. Then punches in the number of the phone she’s holding, followed by a crisp “911.” In about three seconds, Agatha’s pager will display the callback number- and the urgent emergency code. As Rio sets the phone back on the cradle, a flicker of guilt stirs in her chest. For a split second, she regrets the abuse of power, until the phone rings.

“Dr. Harkness.” Agatha’s voice comes sharp and a little frantic. “I was paged 911 to this number.”

“Is flirting with nurses in your job description?” Rio grates. As much as she tries to hide it, the irritation comes through in her voice. 

“You paged me 911. This is an abuse of power, you know?” Agatha almost chuckles. 

“Have you seen your patients? Written notes? Ready for rounds?”

Rio hears Agatha yawn into the phone. 

“Done. And done. Also Billy decided to take it upon himself to read the MRI on Mrs. Jones by himself. Before radiology. He tried to tell her that her symptoms were anxiety. Radiologist said it’s actually a spinal stroke. So I smoothed things over with her, scolded Billy and called neurology to come see the patient.” Agatha boasts. 

“Billy did what?” Rio almost didn’t hear the rest of it. “I have to go talk to him.” 

“You’re welcome.” Agatha says in a sing-song voice before hanging up the phone. 

Rio scrubs her hands over her eyes. Overeager July interns will be the death of her. She takes a deep breath and picks up the phone again to page Billy, ready to scold him. This is why she can’t get distracted by Agatha. 

—

Rio grabs her second coffee of the day and a bag of chips before texting the group: 

Rounds in 10 minutes in the conference room. 

By the time she walks in, the team is already gathered. Alice is mumbling to herself as she preps for her presentation. Billy looks defeated, still reeling from Rio’s earlier talk (well scolding) with him. He’d clearly hoped to prove himself today, but instead, he’s just made himself the one to keep a closer eye on.

Agatha has her feet kicked up on the table, a package of sour gummy worms resting on her lap. As Rio takes a seat at the head of the table, something small and soft hits her on the temple, landing on the pile of papers in front of her. 

A sour gummy worm. 

“Agatha, what the hell?” Rio narrows her eyes at her but she pops the candy in her mouth anyway. Damn, she forgot how good these are. As she settles in, she flashes Agatha a small smile, tongue in cheek.

Billy’s hand flies up like he’s in a classroom. 

“Yes?” Rio asks.

“So if I have a famous mother do I get special treatment too?” He starts rambling. “Because mine isn’t like ‘famous famous’ but she is a doctor at Mayo and she’s researching….”

Rio cuts him off. “Agatha isn’t getting special treatment. She’s just been doing what she’s told.” 

Billy rolls his eyes. 

“Dude!” Alice snaps, slapping his arm. 

When Rio glances at Agatha, the intensity of her gaze catches her off guard. Her icy blue eyes are large and wide and she’s got a faint blush in her cheeks. She shifts ever so slightly in her chair. She raises an eyebrow as she slyly mouths “ohhh.” And then a knowing smile. She bites her lips and whispers “yes ma’am.” 

Rio coughs, forcing herself to look down at the patient list, the names blurring together. Focus…

“Okay Billy, since you are so hell bent on being the main character, you get to present your patient first. And please,” she leans in, voice sharp. “don’t skip over the part where you decided to tell a woman with a stroke that it was all in her head.” Her words are laced with frustration and a hint of anger. “In case you weren’t aware, misogyny has no place on my team.”  

Billy swallows hard. “I didn’t mean..I just…” he stammers. 

Rio raises a hand to stop him. “I’m not looking for excuses. I’m looking for change.” 

Billy nods then begins with a shaky voice. “Mrs. Jones is a 63 year old female with a past medical history of…”

The rounds drag on, Rio quizzing them on their clinical reasoning and presentation skills. Every so often, she throws in a mini-lecture about the medical topic relevant to their cases. Right now, she’s discussing Agatha’s liver failure patient. 

Rio is drawing the complex biliary tract out on a spare piece of paper when she looks up at her small crowd. Of course, Agatha is staring at the ends of her hair, brow furrowed as she picks at the split ends. 

“Agatha, are you even listening?” Rio asks. 

“Although most people think alcohol is the most common cause of liver disease in the US, but nonalcoholic fatty liver is quickly surpassing it.” Agatha answers without looking up. “These are medical student level questions. I thought this was supposed to be hard.” She wiggles an eyebrow at Rio. 

Rio is taken back. Despite her cool attitude, Agatha is sharp. The fact that she can rattle off the latest statistics shows she’s been doing some serious reading. 

“I’m….impressed.” Rio admits, surprised.  

“I can be very impressive, Dr. Vidal,” Agatha practically purrs. 

Billy mutters “oh shit” under his breath, his mouth hanging open. “Told you!” He whispers loudly to Alice, his face a mix of awe and disbelief. 

“Moving on.” Rio does her best to ignore the unexpected heat rising in his cheeks. The other interns are staring intently at her, waiting for a reaction. 

She clears her throat for the second time and shifts her focus back to the schedule. “Remember we’ve got a night shift in a couple of weeks.” The collective groans from the group fill the same space. 

“Alright, you’re dismissed. Finish your charting for the day and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rio stands, gathering her papers. She rushes out of the room before the interns have a chance to make her lose her composure. Again. 

—

As the day finally comes to a close, Rio presses the down button on the elevator on the sixth floor. Fatigue settles into her shoulders, weighing down her upper back. The fluorescent hospital lights seem sharper now, too bright against her tired eyes. She just wants to go home and sink into a hot shower until she’s half asleep. Dropping her head, she rubs the back of her her neck, kneading the ache from long hours on her feet.

The elevator doors slide open and she steps in, grateful it’s empty. She steps inside, moving to the back wall, crossing her arms. 

Just before the doors close, a hand, a perfectly manicured hand, stops the doors. Behind it, Agatha slips inside the elevator. She looks exhausted. But it’s not unexpected - it’s her first day. Her hair is now tied up in a loose ponytail, stray hairs framing her face. Her mascara has just the slightest smudge below her eyelashes. But she says nothing. She just exhales, deep and heavy, and stands in the middle of the elevator. 

Rio has 6 floors. Six floors alone with Agatha in this impossibly small space. She should do nothing. She should say nothing. She should shut down any flirting between them. She should…

The elevator starts its descent. 

Rio shifts forward with one step toward her. 

5th floor. 

Agatha takes a slow breath, then exhales through pursed lips.

4th floor. 

Agatha reaches behind her, pulling the elastic tie out of her hair. It spills down her back, long, impossibly long. Rio is instantly enveloped in the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. 

3rd floor. 

Rio takes another step. Just a small one. And she’s square with Agatha’s back. Her fingers find the middle of her back, ghosting upward on her spine. Her hair floats over Rio’s fingers. 

2nd floor. 

Agatha lets out the faintest, breathy moan at the contact and Rio feels her heart pull in her chest. She wants to lean in, brush her lips over her neck, follow that path up to her jawline. To her mouth. Feel Agatha sigh into her. Agatha leans back into her more. Her chin tilting up. 

First floor. 

The elevator lets out its final “ding” as the doors open. Rio takes one step back, shoving her hands into her white coat pockets, as Agatha steps out without turning around. For a second, Rio wants to follow her. Her body is screaming at her to move - to continue out of doors out of the hospital, away from prying eyes and security cameras. But her mind, the small logical piece of it left, pushes to the forefront. That piece keeps her feet firmly planted against the linoleum floor of the elevator until the doors close again. Only then does she move, two small steps forward, to push the ‘doors open’ button. They slide open to the first floor once again.

Agatha has already left. 

Rio reaches the conference room without further incident, pausing only to text a reminder to her interns: Sign off all patient charts before the end of the day.

Emoji responses start to roll in - thumbs-ups, salutes, even a skull. She chooses to believe they all understand. Or so she hopes.

By the time she steps out of the hospital, the sun is low, casting sharp streaks of gold across the parking lot. The glare off the cars makes it hard to see too far ahead, but she can just make out a figure leaning against her driver’s side door.

She doesn’t need to get closer to know who it is.

“How did you know this was my car?”

Agatha tilts her head, the hint of a smirk playing at her lips. “I told you, I’m very impressive. And observant.”

Rio arches a skeptical brow.

“I saw you leaving the BBQ.” Agatha answers before Rio asks further. A beat, then she adds, “So… are we going to talk about how you just smelled my hair back there?”

The bluntness catches Rio off guard. A sharp hit, leaving her exposed in a way she doesn’t like.

Every instinct tells her to retreat. To slip into the car, shut the door, and drive away without answering. But Agatha is blocking her escape. 

“You followed me into that elevator.” Rio almost wants to laugh at her own poor excuse to defend herself. 

“I actually wanted to ask for a ride home.” Instead of fighting her back, Agatha pivots. Again. Rio realizes this is a theme with her. 

“One of the other interns can’t help you out?” Rio fetches her keys from her bag. 

Agatha just shrugs, offering nothing more in the way of an explanation, as she sidesteps out of the way of the driver’s side door. 

“Where do you live?” Rio sighs, unlocking the door. 

Agatha opens her mouth to answer, but a voice from across the parking lot comes drifting over, calling her name. 

Rio glances over to see none other than Evanora Harkness making her way toward the pair, sharp heels clicking across the asphalt. 

Rio straightens her spine and takes a step back. Away from Agatha. Even though they weren’t standing that close each other to begin with. 

“Agatha.” The voice comes again, sharp and warning. “It’s time to go.” She comes to stop in front of the pair. Her eyes take in Rio, a judgmental up and down look. 

Rio glances over at Agatha. She suddenly looks so small, her face fallen a bit. Defeated. She starts to follow quietly before turning to Rio and offering a purse lipped smile and a shrug. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then. Great work today, Agatha.” She tries to offer her something appreciative to her, knowing she’s going home with that.

Evanora stops suddenly then turns slowly back around to Rio. 

“You’re her attending this month?” She questions. Rio can’t tell if it’s general inquiry or accusatory. Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel friendly. 

“Dr. Vidal, I’m a hospitalist.” She sticks out her hand but Evanora doesn’t shake it. 

“Huh. Interesting.” She places a hand on Agatha’s shoulder and appears to squeeze it, pushing her forward. “Come.” 

As she follows Evanora, shoulders slumped, she glances back at Rio with a sad sort of look. 

Rio climbs into her car before grabbing her cell phone and sending a quick message to Agatha. 

You text me if you ever need anything. No questions asked. 

She knows it’s blurring the lines. And right now, she doesn’t care. She suddenly feels like she has to get Agatha away from that woman. Somehow. 

Chapter Text

Rio wakes up three times that night. The first time, she tells herself it was just to make sure the interns had finished their charting for the day. To her surprise, all their notes were completed and properly signed.

The second time, she gets up for a glass of water before sitting back in bed, staring at her phone as if it might suddenly alert her to something — though she had no idea what. There is no work-related reason to be awake. Instead, she opens Facebook and types in Agatha’s name.

Scrolling through, she realizes how much she was dating herself. Of course, Agatha doesn’t have a Facebook. Instagram turns up nothing under her name. Neither did TikTok. Of course, the CEO’s daughter was smart enough not to use her real name online.

After an hour of doomscrolling, she finally drifts back to sleep. But her dreams are anything but restful.

She dreams she is in the hospital; but it’s an endless, twisting maze. Somehow, she has hundreds of patients to see, and the day is already slipping away. She is frantically running from room to room, but no one seems to be in the room they are supposed to be in. 

She crosses the threshold into another dimly lit patient room. A figure lay still in the bed. The face is hard to make out, so she steps closer; her movements quiet, almost cautious. At first, she thinks the patient must be sleeping, but their body is too still, too rigid.

She hovers over the figure, heart pounding, and turns to see the face. Evanora.

A cold dread spreads through her, like ice in her veins. Rio raises a trembling hand, fingers hovering over the neck, searching for a pulse.

Evanora’s eyes shoot open. Dark, unforgiving pupils lock into hers. Her hand shoots out, snatching Rio’s wrist. The grip is firm and unforgiving, causing Rio to wince as nails dig into her skin, 

“Leave. Her. Alone.” Evanora hisses, gritting her teeth. 

Rio’s eyes snap open. She wakes up in a cold sweat, her heart racing and her sheets are twisted around her legs. 

Fuck. 

She lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to slow her breathing. It was just a dream. A stupid, stress-induced dream. But the image of Evanora’s dead, soulless eyes was still burned into the backs of her eyelids.

Rubbing her eyes a final time, she grabs the phone by the side table to look at the time. 5am. Her alarm won’t go off for another thirty minutes. She considers closing her eyes again, but the thought of slipping back into that dream makes her stomach twist. 

With a sigh, she tosses the covers off and swings her legs out of bed. Might as well be up.

Now, as Rio climbs out of the shower, feeling mildly better as the dream is now pushed further into the recesses of her mind, her phone buzzes. 

Can you bring me an iced latte with oat milk?

Rio groans. Leave it to Agatha to completely abuse what she meant by texting her if she needed anything. She types out a reply. 

Doctor’s lounge coffee is free. 

Rio has already been accused of favoritism. She sure as hell isn’t showing up with coffee for just one of them. Her phone buzzes almost instantly with a response:

But it tastes so nasty 😩

She swears she can hear the whine in Agatha’s voice through the text. 

You know, you are kinda a princess. 

It takes mere seconds before Rio’s phone buzzes again. 

Ohhh Dr. Vidal. Call me princess again and I’ll come.

Rio nearly drops her phone. What the fuck? Agatha usually toes the line but this was fifty feet beyond it. 

Her thumb hovered over the screen, ready to type out “what the hell is wrong with you?” Because she can’t have evidence like this in writing. 

But evidence of what? There is nothing going on. Nothing has happened. 

Yet.

No, nothing can happen - she reminds herself when her phone dings again.

Sorry! I hit send too soon. I meant I’ll come in early every day this week. 

She doesn’t believe her. 

I don’t believe you. She pens back.

And Agatha leaves her on read. 

And that’s how Rio ends up walking into her second day with her new interns, holding a drink carrier full of overpriced custom iced coffees for each one of them. At least this way no one could accuse her of showing Agatha special treatment. And they all get more caffeine out of the deal.

“This isn’t going to become a habit,” Rio grumbles as she hands out the drinks to Alice, Agatha, and Billy.

“You’re welcome,” Agatha gushes to the others like she’d personally made it happen.

“I paid,” Rio shoots back. “And if I recall, you promised to come in early the rest of the week.”

“Anything you want, Dr. Vidal,” Agatha purrs, dragging out her name like it was a secret between them.

Billy raises an eyebrow.

Rio scrambles to make it sound less scandalous. “She just offered if I brought coffee. Nothing exciting.” Rio flicks the air like she’s brushing away the idea. “Now let’s get down to business. Today you take on more patients. All your patients from yesterday are still here, let’s add a few more. Work hard not to get their labs or medications confused. For the love of God, don’t make me the attending that has patient death on day 2.” 

Billy’s eyebrow stays raised. “No pressure, then.”

—

Rio doesn’t want to call it a “quiet” day at work. Because anyone who’s ever worked in healthcare knows, if you say the word “quiet” in the hospital, it will jinx the entire day. 

But, so far, the day has gone unusually well. No screaming patients. No one has tried to die. And, surprisingly, Agatha has kept to herself and her work.

Rio walks into the doctor’s lounge, lunch in hand, relieved to finally get a full meal during work hours. She wasn’t going to say it was because it had been “quiet” today though. No way.

The lounge was sparsely populated, spare for a few attendings scattered around. One was slouched in a LazyBoy chair, watching the news, while others were either charting at the scattered computers or scrolling through their phones with cafeteria food in hand.

Rio takes a seat in the back corner at one of the high-top tables. She feels like she has a moment to breathe. Grabbing her phone, she opens it, ready to scroll through the news or social media. Anything, really, to dissociate from the hospital for a second.

She scoops a spoonful of mac and cheese into her mouth and opens her emails. One of her favorite fanfics has been updated. Perfect.

Luckily, she’s got her back to the wall and about 45 minutes to kill so she starts reading, diving headfirst into the story of a Hollywood director and her superstar. It’s hot, too hot to read at the hospital. But, her scrubs are a dark color today and before long she’s squirming in her seat as the pair enters the Los Feliz mansion. 

She’s so engrossed she doesn’t register the footsteps coming near her, or the chair being pulled out next to her. 

“Whatcha reading?” Comes Agatha’s voice to her left, just over her shoulder. She’s close enough that her hair cascades onto Rio’s shoulder. 

“Jesus Christ!” Rio jumps, hitting the locking button as she slams her phone down on the table. “You scared me.” 

“I just wanted to come have lunch with my favorite attending,” Agatha says, taking a seat next to Rio, her plate full of very plain looking salad. 

“I’m the only attending you’ve had.”

“Still my favorite.” Agatha smirks at Rio, stabbing her lettuce with a fork. “So, what were you so engrossed in over here?”

Before Rio can react, Agatha grabs her phone off the table, holding it close to her chest like it’s a prize.

“It’s none of your business,” Rio snaps, immediately reaching out to reclaim it.

But Agatha’s grip is tight, and the phone is pressed too close to her chest. As Rio leans forward to take it back, Agatha turns her body to shield it, trying to block her with an almost playful movement. Instead of grabbing the phone, Rio’s hand brushes against Agatha’s breast as she turns.

Agatha gasps audibly, and Rio jerks her hand back like she’s been burned. Does she pretend it didn’t happen? Apologize? Make a crude joke? Awkwardness falls over the table while Rio is arguing with herself. 

She looks over at Agatha to see her swiping at the phone now, plugging in passwords in an attempt to open it. 

“Excuse me! Hand it back,” Rio commands, sticking out her hand like a mom asking a child for a toy. 

“I tried 6969 and that didn’t work,” Agatha muses. “So what password would Dr.Vidal pick?” Rio watches in vain as she punches in 0000 and the phone unlocks for her. “God, how old are you? Who uses that as a password anymore?”

Rio groans and half heartedly reaches for the phone again. Agatha once again turns her back to Rio. Now Rio can see her eyes growing wide, the phone still displaying Rio’s reading from earlier. 

“You know this is basically porn,” Agatha raises an eyebrow at her. 

“It’s reading! And it has a plot,” Rio protests. 

Agatha chuckles. “There is a great vampire one by the way.” She leans in close to Rio. So close that Rio can feel little puffs of air on her cheek as she speaks. “I think you’d find it very interesting. I’ll send it to you.”

Rio exhales, leaning back in her chair. “This isn’t a good idea, you know.”

“What? Me sending you porn? I mean sophisticated reading.” 

“You. Hanging out with me. Like this.” Rio gestures between them. “Your mother clearly wouldn’t approve.”

“My mother has never set foot in these hospital halls.”   

“Doesn’t mean she doesn’t know what goes on in them,” Rio warns. 

Agatha purses her lips like she knows Rio is correct and returns to her salad. It’s then Rio realizes Agatha is still palming her phone.

“Are you going to give that back?” Rio asks, her voice tight as the phone buzzes in Agatha’s hand.

“In a second,” Agatha replies, unfazed. “Gotta see who’s texting you in the middle of a workday. Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” She unlocks the phone again, her eyes scanning the screen. “Ugh. It’s just Billy. Says he’s almost done with his notes since it’s been so quiet today.”

Rio drops her forehead onto the table with a groan. “Fuck, he shouldn’t have said that.”

The shrill of several pagers ringing comes through at the same time the overhead speaker crackles, an announcement coming through.

“Code Blue room 3614. Code Blue room 3614.”

“That’s, that’s my patient,” Agatha says frantically, her voice laced with panic. She nearly falls off her high top chair in a rush to get to her feet. “I…I haven’t done this before. I’m not ready.”

Rio’s heart races a little faster but she doesn’t hesitate. She stands quickly, locking eyes with Agatha. “Yes you are. I’ll be right next to you the entire time.” 

Rio grabs their plates and tosses them in the trash as they make their way out the door. She ushers them away from the elevator, muttering “the stairs are faster,” as they begin their ascent to the third floor. Agatha grabs her ACLS card out of her white coat pocket, trying to recite the algorithm as they go.

They reach the room quickly, the large amount of hospital staff there spills out from the small space into the hallway. 

Whatever hesitation Agatha had felt in the doctor’s lounge either melted away or she was hiding it like an Oscar-winning actress, because Rio watches her enter the room with the poise of someone who’s done this a thousand times.

The room is organized chaos. One nurse is frantically doing chest compressions, a line of two others wait diligently behind her to take her place when she fatigues. 

“I’m Dr. Harkness. This is my patient. I need to know what happened,” Agatha commands, stepping to the foot of the bed with a clinical authority Rio hadn’t expected from someone so green. Her hands are shoved into her coat pockets. Rio takes a step back, scanning the vitals in case Agatha needs any help.

Agatha listens intently as the patient’s nurse reviews the case, her hands trembling slightly at her notes. Agatha instantly asks for how many doses of epinephrine the patient has received and when the last dose was. 

She correctly asks for another dose. 

It’s impressive, to say the least. Rio can’t remember any intern being able to step up to this level on day two. Great, her ego will only get bigger, Rio briefly thinks. 

But as the oxygen saturation drops, Rio is about to speak up, fearing Agatha might miss it. The respiratory therapist starts to look at Rio nervously, furrowing her brow and pursing her lips. She glares at Agatha and Rio knows she’s about to speak up. 

“I’m going to intubate,” Agatha announces, her tone rising, the sharp edge of panic starting the bleed through. She flicks a brief look to Rio as if asking permission. She nods back subtly, walking with her to the head of the bed. Rio grabs the few supplies Agatha needs, laying them out within reach. 

Agatha grips the glidescope handle, positioning it as she lifts the patient’s chin, opening the airway. 

“I can’t visualize the cords,” Agatha starts to sound a bit frantic, the panic setting in more. To her right, the respiratory therapist flinches like she’s getting agitated with the rookie moves. 

“Just slow down,” Rio coaches, trying to reassure her, “pull back a little bit more,” Rio reassures her. She leans closer, trying to get more of a visual on what Agatha sees. 

Rio’s shoulder brushes against Agatha’s. She doesn’t move. She just presses further into her. Agatha doesn’t move away. 

The scent of vanilla clings to Agatha’s hair and suddenly invades Rio’s nostrils, clashing with the sterile smell of the hospital. 

Rio watches a stray hair cling to Agatha’s temple. She notices the subtle caramel highlights framing her face. 

Do not think of how good her hair smells over a dead body, Rio thinks. Who the fuck turns death into something erotic? 

Agatha finally threads the tube between the vocal cords and into the trachea, while Rio is lost in her own little seductive world. 

As the CO2 detector flashes from yellow to purple, Agatha lets out a breath of relief. “Tube’s in.” The respiratory therapist connects the bag to deliver a breath.

Rio forces herself to shake off the distraction, stepping back to the foot of the bed. The code continues with more rounds of epinephrine, compressions, fluids. Thirty-five minutes of controlled chaos. And then, a heartbeat. It’s weak and irregular. But there.

A collective exhale moves through the room, then the weight of the situation settles heavy across everyone’s shoulders. Agatha leans back to scrub a hand down her face as people start to shuffle out. 

Rio watches her. Agatha hesitates as the crowd squeezes through the small doorway, then suddenly moves faster, her footsteps weaving through the crowd. She doesn’t linger for the debrief like she’s supposed to. She doesn’t glance back at the patient or review the monitor again. She bolts. 

Without a word, Rio follows, lengthening her stride a bit to try to catch up to Agatha’s retreating figure. Down the hallway. Speeding down the stairwell. 

“Agatha?” Rio questions, hopping down the stairs after her. 

She doesn’t hear her. Or ignores her. Rio isn’t sure which.

Agatha pushes through the side door and disappears outside. Rio speeds after her, the door slamming shut behind her. 

Rio rounds a corner of the building and almost smacks into Agatha’s back, hunched over with her hands on her knees.

Rio hears the vomiting start a second later. The sound of liquid hitting the concrete fills the narrow alleyway. 

“It’s ok. You’re ok.” Rio reassures her. She reaches out without thinking, her hand finding Agatha’s back, rubbing slow, grounding circles along her spine. 

Agatha gags once more and coughs before wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. 

“Don’t,” she says, barely audible. She keeps her back to Rio, shoulders rigid. Then, hesitantly, she turns. Her eyes are red, glossy with unshed tears. “She’s still going to die, isn’t she?”

Rio nods. “She’s 85, Agatha. She was without oxygen for a while. The human body can handle a lot. But sometimes we don’t prevent death, we just fight it off for a little while longer.”

Agatha seems to absorb that. She breathes out, and something shifts behind her expression. “We can’t fight death.” She comes face to face with Rio now, their bodies inches apart. 

Agatha’s eyes soften, so much it almost hurts to look at her. 

Rio doesn’t think, she doesn’t pause. She raises her hands up to cup Agatha’s face gently, her fingers brushing the edges of her hair. For a second, she just holds her like that. Out here in the back alley of the hospital, the cold is biting at them, but it’s just the two of them. Rio holds Agatha like she’s some fragile, precious thing. Holding her in a way she knows she shouldn’t. In a way she knows crosses a line that she no longer cares about. 

Agatha parts her lips and she glances at Rio, sighing. 

“Agatha,” Rio warns. “That lady. She isn’t your family.” 

Agatha looks at her with a bit of shock, her eyebrows creasing like she’s in pain. Rio instantly regrets her honesty in a moment that felt so raw, so vulnerable. 

She watches Agatha shake her head slightly, detaching herself from Rio’s grasp. She can feel Agatha’s walls building back up, brick by brick. 

And then just like that, Agatha is walking away, back toward the job where Rio is her superior. Back to the world where none of this is allowed to exist. 

— 

Chapter Text

Rio takes the long way back into the hospital. She doesn’t want to risk running into Agatha again. 

It’s been two days since this all started. Two fucking days since Agatha walked into the hospital, into her life, apparently intent on ruining it. 

Rio’s built a reputation as a solid attending here. The residents like her, the nurses like her. Hell even most patients like her. 

Then Agatha waltzes in that first day wearing shorts entirely too short. And suddenly Rio is thinking about touching what’s under the shorts. 

And then she’s actually putting her hands in the girl’s hair. 

A girl 20 years her junior. 

She is royally fucked. 

So she walks into the conference room hoping, by the grace of God, Agatha isn’t in it. 

No such luck. 

Agatha’s got her head down, forehead resting on the table and she doesn’t bother looking up as Rio walks in.

For a split second, Rio wants to run her hand along Agatha’s back. Soothe her and tell her it’s all ok. For what? She’s not sure. It’s ok she held her in the courtyard when she knows she shouldn’t? It’s ok her patient is dying? It’s ok that Agatha freaked the fuck out after her first code?

But there is Billy, as present as ever, typing away on his laptop like a guard dog. 

He gives Rio a look when she enters that’s somewhere between shame and disbelief. She wonders how much he knows. 

Thank fuck the day is almost done. 

“Let’s all meet in here in an hour to run the list,” Rio announces like she had an actual purpose for entering the room in the first place. 

“What’s ’run the list’?” Billy asks. Agatha doesn’t move from her spot against the table. 

“Review all the patients for the day and go over what you need to tell the night team about them. Make sure Alice is here too.” She pauses. “Agatha? Are you hearing me?”

Agatha gives a thumbs up without lifting her head. 

Satisfied enough, Rio retreats to her office across the hall to gather her things - and her thoughts. She closes the door behind her and exhales slowly, dragging a hand over her face. Then she powers down her laptop, sliding it into her shoulder bag along with her phone and water bottle.

Since she plans to leave right after the review with the interns, she decides there’s no reason to stay in her scrubs. She might as well change.

She kicks off her shoes, then peels off her scrub pants and pulls on a pair of sweats. Next, she turns around and grabs the hem of her scrub top and starts tugging it over her head.

That’s when she hears it.

The door creaks open behind her.

Of course. In her rush, she forgot to lock it.

“Dr. Vidal?” Agatha’s voice comes fluttering toward her from the doorway. “Oh. Sorry. I…” 

From under her shirt she hears the door click again and she assumes Agatha left, shutting the door behind her. She finishes stripping off the remainder of her shirt, until only her deep green bra remains. Rio turns toward the door, intent on grabbing her shirt from the desk. 

“Agatha!” Rio yelps. Agatha didn’t leave. Of course she didn’t. Instead she’s standing there. Her back leaning against the closed door, arms crossed. She’s got a coy smirk tugging at her lips.

Rio should feel self-conscious. She should grab her shirt and throw it on. Or cover herself with her hands. 

But in that moment, something changes. Like the heat rises in the room; like two magnets in proximity with one another. Rio looks right into Agatha’s eye, raising an eyebrow. Silent. Suddenly it feels like a challenge of who will back down first. 

Agatha was the one who walked in. But she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t apologize. Her eyes move slowly, dragging down Rio’s body like she’s drinking her in. She studies the hollow of her throat, her collarbones, down to the swell of her breasts. Her eyes linger along the thin lace of Rio’s bra. 

And the cold of the hospital isn’t reason Rio’s nipples are hard against the fabric. 

Agatha’s eyes snap back up to Rio’s and Rio expects another sarcastic smirk from her.

But instead Agatha’s pupils are wide, her lips parted, her cheeks flush. 

She’s fucking turned on. 

Rio takes two steps toward her until she invades her space. She can feel the heat radiating off both of them. She bites her lip, then lets her gaze drop, just for a moment, to Agatha’s mouth.

Agatha’s breath catches. Rio watches the subtle movement of her throat as she swallows hard, her breathing growing shallower with every inch of proximity.

Finally, Rio feels like she has the upper hand. 

She’s so close she could just tilt her head, barely move, and kiss her. The temptation is razor-sharp, just beneath the surface, pulsing with potential. She doesn’t want to think about the consequences. Not right now.

“You should…really…lock your door,” Agatha whispers, the words coming out in short bursts. 

Rio lets the words linger in the air, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Maybe you should knock,” she murmurs, her voice low, deliberate.

Agatha’s eyes flash with surprise at the comeback before something darker threads through it. But she doesn’t move. Neither of them does.

The space between them feels thinner than air now and Rio swears she can hear Agatha’s heart racing even from there; unless it’s her own. 

“Was there something you needed, Agatha?” Rio murmurs, her voice soft, breathy, trembling on the edge of a dare.

Wrong move.

Agatha steps back - slow, calculated. Her tongue pushes against the inside of her cheek as she lets her gaze trail deliberately downward, eyes locking onto Rio’s nipples poking against the lace. 

“I think I’ve got everything I came for,” she says with a low chuckle, her eyes never lifting.

Then she turns and walks out, leaving the door open behind her.

Rio clenches her fists at her sides, jaw tight. Agatha is maddening. Every time she thinks she’s found footing, the younger woman flips the ground beneath her. It’s a constant tug-of-war with control, deflection, heat and Agatha never lets her forget it.

She wants to hate it.

But she really doesn’t.

Rio slams the office door shut and this time she locks it, throwing her t-shirt over her head. She takes a long drink of water, trying to flush the heat from her face and from everywhere else. 

Focus. Reset. Just ten more minutes, she tells herself. Then she can go home.

By the time she steps out five minutes later, patient list in hand, her pulse has mostly settled. She keeps her eyes on the paper as she joins the team.

Everyone is eager to wrap up for the day so they move quickly through the list. Until they get to Agatha’s patient, the one they coded earlier today.

Rio scans the notes, then looks up. “Final order of business. Agatha, you need to give the night team a head’s up about your patient. You don’t want them to be surprised when a nurse calls them that she passed away.”

Agatha’s brow furrows. “That’s it?”

Rio nods. “That’s it.”

“They don’t really know her though.”

“That’s ok. These things happen, they can declare death. You get sent the death certificate to sign via email in a couple of days.” Rio says matter-of-factly. 

Agatha doesn’t respond right away.

“That’s not what I meant,” she says finally, quieter. “She doesn’t have any family. She’s just... alone. In that room.”

“You aren’t obligated to stay. Your shift ends at 7,” Rio begins, then hesitates when she sees the uncertainty in Agatha’s eyes. “That being said, no one will fault you for it.”

Agatha nods slowly, looking down at her hands. She starts picking at her thumbnail.

“Yeah. I think I’ll stay,” she says. “I mean...I know the nurses are short-staffed. So really, I’m just helping them out.”

She adds the last part like she needs to justify it - to Rio, maybe, or to herself.

Rio nods. She gets it - feeling invested, attached to a patient you spent some much time with. You want to see it through, even to the end. 

As Agatha slips out of the conference room and heads down the hall toward her patient’s room, Rio returns to her office. She could go home. She should go home. It’s Agatha’s decision to stay.

But something tugs at her. 

She tells herself it’s about being a good attending. That it’s professional oversight for her intern. That she’s just making herself available if Agatha needs anything.

But she knows better.

It’s not the doctor in her that’s lingering. It’s something else. The way Agatha softened. The way she stayed. The way it makes her feel more human, less untouchable. It pulled at something in Rio that she doesn’t usually let anyone get close enough to touch. And something she doesn’t think Agatha lets others touch either.

So she stays too.

One coffee break, a vending machine candy bar, and three hours later, she’s still in her office. The hospital’s gone quiet around her, and no word has come from Agatha. Not from the nurses either.

She unlocks her cell phone, setting it on the desk next to her. 10pm. Grabbing the office phone, she dials up to the nurses’ station. Agatha’s patient is still alive but barely. The nurse points out that Agatha’s been in there the entire time. 

“She hasn’t so much as taken a bathroom break. She’s just sitting in there holding her hand.” The nurse notes into the phone. Rio hangs up, leaning back in her desk chair, threading her fingers behind her head. 

Rio can’t leave. Not now. 

You don’t forget that first death as a doctor. The names might fade over the years, the faces blurred, but you never forget that feeling. Watching them slip away, powerless to help, when all you’ve been training for, all you’ve been working for all those years - is to try to save them. You never forget the stillness of the room after. The silence that envelops everything when it’s really, finally over. 

So Rio waits. 

Another 45 minutes go by and Rio hears shuffling in the conference room. She rises from her chair and goes out to meet Agatha, eyes rimmed red. 

“It gets easier, doesn’t it?” Agatha asks quietly. Suddenly, she seems so small, so vulnerable. 

“Sometimes it does,” Rio replies. “But some deaths will always hit you harder than others.”

Agatha looks up, uncertain.

“That’s a good thing,” Rio adds. “It means you’re still human.”

Agatha lets out a soft chuckle, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She brushes her hair out of her eyes while straightening her back. Like she’s pushing the reset button on her emotions. 

“I’m fine now. It’s over,” she says clinically as she reaches for her coat, gathering her things.

“Come on,” Rio says, heading for the door. “We’re getting ice cream.”

“Ice cream? I know I’m young, but I’m not a kid.”

“Are you saying you don’t like ice cream?”

Agatha gives a little smirk. “No, I do.”

“I’m driving,” Rio says as they step out of the conference room. “But you’re buying.”

They walk together toward Rio’s car.

“So why ice cream?” Agatha asks. “Why not, I don’t know...booze?”

“In the fire department, there’s a tradition,” Rio says. “Your first fire, first time on the news, first anything - you owe the team ice cream.”

“Kinda morbid now,” Agatha gives her a disgusted look. 

“Hey now. Everything's better with ice cream.” Rio chuckles, before her face grows more serious, remembering. “My dad was a fire captain for 20 years. I used to go on ride alongs with him. They even made me buy ice cream my first time.” 

Agatha shrugs at the response, like it’s not a big deal. But as Rio looks over at her, she can see a hint of a smile. 

—

“What is that monstrosity you picked?” Agatha asks. “Why does it look like a dog?”

“It’s a Snoopy ice cream bar! How could you not know Snoopy?” Rio snaps back playfully. 

They are leaning against the food of Rio’s car now, ice creams in hand. Luckily, the July night is still warm, the heat from the day still clinging to the humid air. 

“God, you need to get laid.” Agatha says casually, bringing another spoonful to her mouth. 

Rio’s head snaps up at the comment before a wicked idea crosses her mind. 

“Why, are you offering?” She offers back. She expects to catch Agatha off guard with her quip. 

But she should have known better. 

Agatha doesn’t respond. Instead she leans down toward Rio. 

For a second, Rio isn’t sure if she’s going to lean over and kiss her or snap her teeth at her. Instead, Agatha continues to lean down, her eyes never leaving Rio’s. She bends down even further then, her tongue darting out to lick the entire length of Rio’s ice cream. 

“Tastes good,” she purrs.

Rio can’t help but stare at a small drop of vanilla on Agatha’s lip. Just begging to be touched.

“You’ve got a…” Rio gestures to her lip.

Agatha wipes the side of her mouth. 

“No, it’s right…” Rio gestures again.

Agatha wipes her chin this time and now Rio swears she’s missing it on purpose. “Would you?” Agatha asks, scooting closer to Rio before tilting her chin up. 

Rio swallows hard. Every interaction with Agatha feels like a bomb she’s trying hard to keep from detonating. And now Agatha’s seen her half-naked, although accidentally. Hell she’s held her face in her hands. Why does this feel more intimate? Because it’s more purposeful? Like a line they are crossing that can’t be taken back? 

Rio brings her right index finger up to Agatha’s lip, slowly. Agatha opens her mouth to the touch, as if the motion is too familiar; an instinct. Just waiting for Rio to press her finger inside. 

Instead Rio wipes the vanilla from her lip, the white liquid gathering on the tip of her finger.  

In a flash, Agatha snatches Rio’s wrist, drawing her finger up to her mouth. She licks down the sides of her finger before sucking it into her mouth, pressing her tongue flat along the tip. The sensation is too much. It shoots straight to Rio’s core and she has to bite back a moan. 

She squeezes her legs together as Agatha pulls the finger out of her mouth with a pop. She looks entirely too pleased with herself.  

“Agatha, this is…” Rio starts to warn. 

Agatha raises her hand to stop her “Whatever you are going to say, don’t.” Agatha bites back. “I’m just helping you out,” she smirks back. 

“Right, sure. Helping.” Rio squeaks out but her brain feels it is running on fumes. She can’t keep doing this - let Agatha get the upper hand and leave her flustered and turned on. For a split second, she thinks about turning the tables. Literally. Pinning Agatha against the roof of that car and shoving her thigh between her legs. Kissing her hard and bringing her to the edge before denying her an orgasm. 

Fuck, her stupid turned on brain. She has to mentally slap herself because she can’t be thinking like this.

Flirting? Sure. Pushing the flirting a little bit to include touching? Sure. But a sexual relationship? Situationship? Fuck buddies? No. Nope. Nah. 

She can’t flush her entire professional career down the toilet for some intern. 

She glances up to see Agatha watching her, studying her face like she’s reading her mind - watching her mentally battle herself. 

“We should…go,” Rio stutters when she finally does manage to speak. 

“Whatever you say, doctor,” Agatha watches her for a second longer like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or Rio to fold. She isn’t sure which.

Then Agatha hops down from the hood of the car, dropping her remaining ice cream into the trash. 

—

“You sure it’s ok I’m driving you home?” Rio asks as she turns down the suburban street. 

“That old crone has long since drank herself into a stupor. It will be fine,” Agatha scoffs. “It’s right here.” 

The car slows as Agatha points out the house she shares with her mother. Although Rio can hardly call it a house. It looks like a mansion. The two stories of red brick are accentuated by large white columns along the front. A veranda wraps its way around the front, adorned with outdoor chairs that look largely unused. 

“It’s…” Rio begins. 

“A monstrosity, I know,” Agatha finishes. “My mom liked its history. As a plantation.” Agatha spits out the last words. “I’m moving the second I can.”

Rio nods in understanding as Agatha unbuckles, reaching for the door handle. 

“Oh hey. Before I go,” Agatha pauses, before opening the passenger’s side door. “My mom says to tell you I have to take tomorrow off.”

“You don’t really get days off as an intern,” Rio replies, confused.

“You going to say no to the CEO?” Agatha lifts an eyebrow. “Plus it’s not like I have a choice either.”

Rio sighs. “I know. I’ll take your patients for the day. You’ll be back the next day?”

“Oh yeah.” Agatha says nonchalantly. “It’s just this stupid thing my mom wants me to do.” She starts to close the door, shugging. “My wedding dress fitting.”

And with that she slams the door, walking toward the house. 

Chapter Text

Rio tells herself she’s not going to think of Agatha at all today. The conference room is quieter without her constant quips and sarcastic comments. She doesn’t miss it. Or her. Because she’s not thinking about her and what she’s doing right now. She’s not thinking about what the hell she meant by “wedding dress fitting.” 

Engaged. 

That would mean Agatha is engaged.

To whom?

And why didn’t she tell her.

Because she’s just using you for a little workplace fun. Or to get ahead in the program. Either way.

Using you. She thinks. 

Using you.

“Where’s Agatha today?” Billy interrupts her thoughts from his seat across from her at the conference room table. 

She’s going to kill him. 

“Personal matter,” she shuts down the conversation as fast as she can. Billy gives Alice a look before pulling out his phone, presumably to text Agatha. 

She could text her too, right? As a mentor… Hey, hope the dress fitting is going well. By the way, what the actual fuck? You are engaged?

Ok, maybe not. 

“So she gets days off and we don’t?” Alice asks. 

“It’s out of my hands,” Rio shrugs, turning back to her computer. Without Agatha to chart on her patients today, Rio has a bit more work to get through. 

“I came in with the flu once as a medical student,” Billy muses to no one in particular. 

“And your mom isn’t the hospital CEO,” Alice rolls her eyes. 

Rio glares at her, her eyebrows knit together. 

“What? Everyone knows. Her mom even gave us a little speech at orientation. Although I can’t say it was inspiring,” Billy cuts in. 

“It was vile.” 

Billy nods to Alice. “And kinda threatening. I can see why Agatha hates her. She told me once her mom even went so far as to arrange…”

Alice elbows him in the side. 

Arrange?! Arrange what ?!? Rio’s inner voice screams but she says nothing and continues to stare at her computer, the words now blurring together. 

“Nevermind, I shouldn’t have said anything,” he murmurs under his breath. 

“You can feel free to speak your mind,” Rio lays it on sweetly, hoping he will spill.

“It’s not really my place to say,” Billy hesitates, side eyeing Alice as he does. She tenses her jaw at him and shakes her head subtly. 

“We should go see our patients,” Alice adds, ushering him to the door. 

Dammit. 

—

“How’s it going with the intern?” Natasha asks, taking a sip of her wine.

On a whim, Rio had called her on the drive home, desperate to drown her thoughts in something stronger than silence. Now they sit side by side at the bar, house wine in hand.

“Engaged,” Rio says flatly.

“Oh, fuck. We need something stronger than wine.” Natasha flags down the bartender and orders two shots of tequila.

Rio downs hers in one go, then slams the lime on the bar without biting it. 

“Ok. So she’s engaged. Like, to a man? A woman?” Natasha questions.

“No idea,” Rio admits. “I need another one.” She signals for another shot. 

“So let me get this straight. She just casually drops that she’s engaged and leaves it at that? No explanation?” 

“Basically.”

“Did you end things?”

“There was nothing to end.” Rio waves her hand dismissively, then grabs Natasha’s untouched shot and drinks it too. “We flirted. She’s engaged. Haven’t seen her since.”

“When do you see her next?”

“Tomorrow,” Rio sighs. “Which means I need another shot.”

Natasha gives her a look. “As much as I support a good spiral, maybe pace yourself a little.” She slides the next round of shots just out of reach. 

“Absolutely not.” Rio ignores her warnings, leaning on the bar to grab the additional shots. 

“This isn’t like you to freak out over some fling. Or not fling. Someone you flirted with. So what? She’s someone special then?”

Rio rests her head on her hands on the bar. Truth be told, Rio isn’t sure why she’s spiraling. Deep down, nothing can happen between them. She’s Agatha’s boss. The CEO’s daughter. Engaged daughter. 

It’s too much to think about. Her head swims, tangled with too much tequila and regret. 

Natasha takes the hint and starts rubbing her back slowly in an attempt to soothe her.

She lifts her head and mouths “thanks,” ready to drop her forehead back on the bar. 

But out of the corner of her eye, she sees a flash of brunette hair enter the bar - hair she swears is familiar. Her stomach drops at the sight, but that doesn’t stop her. She stands quickly, sudden thoughts of confronting her in the forefront of her mind. 

It’s then that the world tilts on his axis below her. She sways, she’s sure it’s only slightly, as she reaches for a nearby chair to help stabilize her. It’s not her fault the chair seems to slip out of her grasp, sending her tumbling…

“Rio, Jesus,” Natasha wraps her arms around her middle, hauling her upright before she hits the floor. “You’re done.”  

“I’m fine,” she slurs, again, only slightly. “But Agatha…” she attempts to gesture toward the girl.

“Agatha!” She tries to yell out, reaching her direction. The girls slightly around, looking toward the noise. She’s about the right age. The nose isn’t quite right, her eyes not as icy blue and her lips are a touch thinner. But Rio could squint, maybe make it work for tonight.  

“Hey, you.” Rio slides up next to the brunette. As her friends part the circle a little to allow her in. 

“Hi,” the brunette giggles back. 

Rio reaches over to grab a strand of brown hair. She misses the first time, swaying slightly on her feet before wrapping her fingers around a lock. She brings it to her nose. 

Her face scrunches up. She doesn’t smell like Agatha either. 

“Did you just smell her hair?” A random blonde in the circle asks.

“What’s your name?” Rio ignores the blonde. 

“Kathryn.” 

“Eww.” 

The brunette looks mildly offended at the remark and swears she slightly steps back from her. 

“You are not doing this,” Natasha whispers harshly into Rio’s ear as she comes up beside her. 

“Oh! This is my friend Natasha!” She wraps her arms around her neck, leaning onto her. 

“You have to excuse her. She’s a little drunk.”

“It’s 8pm,” one of the friends says disgustedly. 

Natasha shrugs before hooking her finger into one of Rio’s belt loops and pulling. Rio stumbles backward toward the door as Natasha practically drags her along. 

“That was fucking embarrassing, Rio. Jesus, you are down bad.” Natasha pulls open the bar door, ushering her through it. “Come on. Let’s get you home.” 

—

Rio’s alarm is especially obnoxious this morning. She swears it can’t possibly be going off at the right time because there is no way she got enough sleep last night. The pounding in her temples starts immediately, a throbbing reminder of just how bad an idea last night was. She groans as she rolls over in bed, her hand slamming on top of her phone in an attempt to stop the clanging noise coming from it. 

There, beside it, is a bottle of water and two ibuprofen - bless Natasha for thinking ahead. 

Thirty minutes later, she’s showered, changed and still fighting a lingering headache and growing nausea as she walks into the call room to greet her interns. 

The dark circles under her eyes are barely covered with make-up, her hair tied up in a bun but still damp. Their confused (and somewhat disgusted) looks give away just how rough she must look. 

Rio decides its best to just focus on her shoes - her Converse sneakers peeking out of her scrubs - as she beelines it for the coffee machine. Something, anything, on her empty stomach might help. And she desperately needs the caffeine. 

As she pours the lukewarm liquid into a styrofoam cup, she can feel her three interns watching her from the conference table, whispering and nudging each other. The sugar packets are gone and creamer empty so she’s stuck with black coffee today - downing the small cup in two gulps. 

Whatever silent battle the interns were having, Alice apparently lost because she speaks up first.

“Dr. Vidal? Are you ok?” Alice asks hesitantly. 

“Peachy,” Rio offers through gritted teeth. 

Alice watches her like she knows she’s lying. Still Rio tries to plaster a fake smile on her face as she turns to grab a refill. 

The black coffee on an empty stomach now feels like a mistake. One that’s threatening to come back up. She spins, contemplating how far the bathroom is and how long she has to make it there….instead she doubles over into the nearest trash can, the coffee burning as it comes back up. 

The room is horrifically silent apart from the splashing sound of her regurgitated coffee against the plastic bag lining the trash can.

Rio wishes someone would say something, anything, to break the awkward tension. 

“Oh my god, you think she’s pregnant?” Billy whispers, too loud. 

Not that. 

Agatha actually laughs loudly, apparently amused. That sound makes Rio want to vomit again. 

“She’s gay,” Agatha answers, flatly. At that, Rio decides to keep her head in the trashcan a little bit longer. 

“How do you know?” Billy asks, then pauses. His eyes go wide. “Wait, are you two?” He gestures wildly between them. 

“I can hear you!” Rio snaps, lifting her head from her vomity safe space. 

“I’m engaged, remember?” Agatha deadpans.

“Riiiight,” Rio swears she hears Billy draw out the word, to the point where it sounds sarcastic. But then again, he always sounds a little sarcastic. 

Rio hurls again into the trash can, this time mostly bile and dry heaves. 

“I’m going to go get her some water,” Alice offers, gently, making her way toward the door. 

“Maybe we should all go,” she hears Billy counter. 

When she lifts her head from the trash can, she expects to see an empty room, but misfortune seems to favor her today - there is Agatha, still rooted in her spot a few feet from the trash can. 

Alice and Billy still stand at the conference room door, holding it open, waiting. 

Agatha stands a few feet away, watching with a look that both sad and expectant, like she’s waiting for something. 

Rio should say something. Or ask her to stay, create a make-up task with charting or helping with a patient, just - something to keep her there. Give her an excuse to talk to her…  

She says nothing.

Agatha draws in a deep breath and takes two steps forward, toward Rio. 

For a second, Rio holds her breath, unsure of what’s about to happen. But Agatha only reaches past her, to the counter behind Rio, grabbing a napkin. She presses it into Rio’s hand. 

“Enjoy your hangover,” she whispers before following her fellow interns. 

—

As the interns round on their patients, Rio bribes a hospital pharmacist for some Zofran. A breakfast burrito, Gatorade and an anti-nausea pill later - she’s feeling less like a gremlin and more human. 

There is just one lingering issue. One that keeps popping into her brain as her patients drone on about toe pain they had once 15 years ago…

Rio tells herself she can’t make it obvious she’s mad at Agatha. She can’t really be mad at her, right? It’s not a crime to flirt while engaged. Technically. It’s just bad taste. 

And who’s to say they can’t still flirt. Or touch. Or maybe make-out a little…

Her thoughts continue to drift as stands rooted at her spot at the nurses station, the chaos of the hospital buzzing around her. 

She’s lost in her thoughts when a hand lands on her shoulder. 

She jerks away at the sudden intrusion. “What?” she snaps. 

Agatha stands there next to her, an inch shorter than her. Her white coat sits just below her hips, scrubs too tight and that damn long ponytail…

“I need help with a paracentesis on a patient,” Agatha says calmly. 

“Go ask a senior resident,” her answer is short. 

“I did, they are all busy. And I’ve never done one. I need an expert to show me.”

“Not my problem.”

Rio turns back to the chart she wasn’t even reading. Agatha doesn’t move. 

“But…it is your problem,” Agatha tilts her head at her, confused. “You are my attending. It’s your patient too.” 

“Fine,” Rio grates. “Let’s go get the supplies.” Rio pushes off the counter of the nurses’ station, Agatha following closely behind.

The short walk gives Rio just enough time to decide to ignore the fact that Agatha’s eyes feel like they are boring through her from behind and focus on the actual work. 

Rio enters the code to the supply closet and opens the door, allowing Agatha to enter first. The space is cramped, made smaller by shelves stacked with IV tubing, sterile supplies and patient hygiene kits. 

Rio can smell her stupid perfume hit her nostrils as she scoots by Rio, further into the small closet. 

“Diagnostic or therapeutic?” Rio asks. 

“What?” Agatha freezes.

“For your para. Are you sending the fluid for analysis or just relieving the pressure?” The words come out harsh - full of underlying anger and laced with annoyance of being forced into proximity with Agatha. Maybe she should just say fuck it and confront her. 

“Diagnostic.”

Rio yanks the correct kit off the shelf, shoving it at Agatha’s chest.

Rio rushes past her, her shoulder knocking into Agatha as she makes her way to the door. 

“Thanks…” Agatha mutters under her breath, rubbing her now sore shoulder. 

They make it to the patient’s room and with quick consent for the procedure, the prep begins. 

Rio grabs two procedure gowns, tossing one in Agatha’s direction. Rio is sure Agatha knows how to put it on. She must have done it hundreds of times as a medical student. But suddenly she’s fumbling like she’s never seen the inside of a hospital in her life.

“Can you help me tie it?” Agatha turns her back toward Rio before sweeping her ponytail to the side, exposing the curve of her neck. 

Rio doesn’t say a word as her fingers grasp the two strings of the gown. She tells herself she will keep her fingers as far away from the bare skin of Agatha’s neck as possible, but still, she’s finding it hard to actually tie it when it isn’t flush against something. 

She draws it closer to Agatha’s neck to cinch down the tie. And then accidentally (she swears it was accidental), her fingers brush against the bare skin. 

She doesn’t move them. 

Agatha makes a sharp inhale at the sensation, finching as Rio’s fingers linger just a second too long. 

She turns, facing Rio, lips parting slightly. Then her top teeth sink into her bottom lip - just enough, just a touch. A flicker of innocence, or seduction - maybe both. 

Rio feels her frustration growing. She can’t seem to be next to Agatha without her palms itching to touch her. Like a forbidden fruit and Agatha is the damn snake in the Garden of Eden. 

“Don’t do that.” Rio’s voice is low, strained, but there is a firmness to it. 

“I didn’t do anything.” Agatha raises an eyebrow. 

Rio is suddenly acutely aware of where they are, their patient only feet away from them, watching the interaction intently. 

“We need to get started,” she bites, then turns to their patient, a fake smile plastered on her face. 

Agatha furrows her brow a bit at the harshness of her words, but says nothing. She slips on her sterile gloves, fingers precise, movements smooth as she pulls the necessary supplies from the kit. 

Rio settles back into work mode quickly, watching Agatha’s every move - the way she uses the ultrasound to locate the correct spot, how steady her hands are as she numbs the patient’s skin, perfectly extracts the fluid with such confidence. Especially for an intern…then it hits her. 

“Shit,” Rio curses under her breath. 

Agatha doesn’t falter, she doesn’t pause - her eyes continue to focus in as she finishes the procedure flawlessly.

“You didn’t need me, did you?” Rio questions.

Agatha strips off her gloves, tossing them into the bin as she finishes. “Who says I didn’t?”

“You just executed that perfectly. You didn’t even ask me a single question.” Rio’s voice drops, tinged with accusation. “So why am I here, Agatha?” She glares. 

“Because you are my attending.” 

An act. It’s all an act. The same act she’s been pulling for a week. 

And Rio? She’s been buying it. Hook, line and sinker. Falling for her charm, her glances, the quiet seductions - like a fool. 

Meanwhile, Agatha goes home to God-knows-who. 

When Rio looks up, Agatha is watching her. Not just looking - but studying her face. Agatha’s blue eyes flicker to her brows, the tension of her jaw - watching her carefully as Rio spirals beneath the surface.

“You’re…you’re mad at me.” It wasn’t a question, but a realization. 

“Agatha,” Rio warns, her name heavy on her tongue. “This is hardly the time.” 

“That para was flawless. You know it.” Agatha’s voice is quieter now, searching. 

Rio almost rolls her eyes at the statement, but settles for a scoff.  

It hits Agatha that this is bigger than a simple procedure. “Wait, are you jealous?” 

“No!” Rio snaps, a little too quickly. 

Agatha’s eyes light up, almost delighted. “You are. You are jealous!” 

“Agatha, we are not doing this here.” Rio starts cleaning up the supplies, throwing them in the biohazard bin. 

An elderly voice drifts from the bed behind them. “You can keep doing it here, I don’t mind. I’ve been stuck in this bed for a week. At least give me some juicy gossip.” 

“Mrs. Brock,” Rio starts, her professional tone kicking in. “I apologize that my intern is being unprofessional.”

“Oh don’t apologize for her,” Mrs. Brock waves a hand. “She’s adorable. You do seem jealous though, Dr. Vidal. What did sweet Dr. Harkness do to you?”  

Rio glares at Agatha. “Now you have patients ganging up on me?” 

Agatha smirks, her old confidence slipping back into place. “What can I say? I’m a charmer.” She winks at her patient, now sitting up in the bed listening intently. 

Apparently, Mrs. Brock decides now is a good time to play mediator. “But what did she do, Dr. Vidal?” 

Rio’s cheeks burn hot. She could leave. She should leave. She’s the attending - no one’s holding her hostage. But her feet feel too heavy. She wants to throw up again. 

She swallows the bile rising in her throat just enough to force out the words. “You lied to me.” 

“I did not,” Agatha fires back, too fast. 

“You didn’t tell the truth.”

“You didn’t ask.” Agatha lifts her chin. “And I’ll have you know. Ralph is very respectable.”

“Ralph?” Rio stares. 

“Bohner,” Agatha mutters.  

“So you’re going to be doctor Bohner? Why didn’t you go into urology?” 

Even Mrs. Brock snorts, “Oh, that is unfortunate, honey.” 

“Just shut up ok?” Agatha shoots Mrs. Brock a glare. “You too.” 

But as Agatha looks back at Rio, she can see the fight is drained from her face. Agatha doesn’t look like a future bride ready to defend her marriage. She looks…embarrassed, almost fearful. Her eyes dart to the floor, eyes a little too wide, like she’s trying to keep something from fraying, just below the surface. 

“I don’t see a ring,” and there is Mrs. Brock again, chiming in, apparently undeterred. 

“I don’t wear it at work,” Agatha says, sheepishly covering her left hand.

“Sure honey.” She points a gnarled finger at Rio. “So you. Why are you jealous?” 

Rio opens her mouth just as the curtain rustles and Billy sticks his head in. 

“Oh good! Dr. Vidal, I’ve been looking for you. The nurses said you were in here.” 

“Come in, dear!” Mrs. Brock says cheerfully, like she’s hosting her own little Grey’s Anatomy episode. “We were just talking about why Dr. Vidal here is jealous of Dr. Harkness’ engagement. Now I think…” 

“Oh my god, I think I love you for this!” Billy gushes. “And I totally want to hear more gossip. Seriously, I live for this. But umm…my patient,” he pauses, careful not to reveal too many details in front of another patient. “He’s hypotensive now. I think his last blood pressure was 80/40 and I tried to give fluids but you know he has heart failure so…” He starts rambling. 

Rio’s heart rate kicks up just slightly at his words, but her face stays composed. “Lovely to chat with you Mrs. Brock,” a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “We should have your results tomorrow morning.” 

She pivots and slips out of the room, Billy and Agatha hustling behind her. 

As they speed-walk down the hospital corridor, Billy leans toward Agatha. “So you finally told her?”

Agatha exhales loudly enough for Rio to hear. “Kinda. But mostly she figured it out on her own. It was…awkward.” She pauses, her voice dropping lower like she hopes Rio doesn’t hear. “I’ll text you about it later.”

“But did you tell her it’s a sham? That Eva-whora arranged it?” 

Rio’s stomach drops at her words, but she keeps walking, pretending she’s focused on finding Billy’s patient’s room. 

Behind her, Agatha’s sharp whisper cuts through the hall. “Shhh! Someone will hear you!” 

Too late.

Rio heard every word.

But she keeps moving, she doesn’t turn around, doesn’t give herself away.  But her chest is tight now. Her mind is racing, looping the word sham like it’s suddenly rewritten the last week of her life. 

It’s not real. 

It was never real. 

But…it doesn’t mean it still won’t happen. 

Agatha could go through with it. Her mother clearly has that kind of power. And Agatha - Agatha fears her. That much is obvious now. 

They reach the patient’s door and Rio stops in front of it. 

Agatha hesitates behind her, but Rio doesn’t give her a glance. Not a flicker of acknowledgement that she knows anything more. 

“Agatha,” she says cool and steady, her eyes on the door handle. “You’re dismissed for the day.” 

“Oh,” Agatha pauses uncomfortably. “I guess I’ll see you both in a couple of days then,” Agatha offers hesitantly. 

Rio pushes into the doorway without a further glimpse back in Agatha’s direction. 

That’s right, Rio recalls as they enter the next patient room. They finally have a few days off. 

Then night shift.

Chapter Text

Night shift is a whole different beast in the hospital. While the rest of the world sleeps, night shift becomes responsible for the entire hospital, not just a select group of patients. There is high stress, little sleep and endless phone calls and emergencies. 

It took a few years, but Rio has her night shift routine down perfectly now. The night before, she stays up as late as she physically can. 

Did you know grocery stores are often open 24 hours? Midnight grocery shopping is a level of peace Rio never knew was possible. 

Then Rio usually sleeps in as late as she can, eats a late lunch/early dinner and takes another nap before going into the hospital at 7pm.

She brings her favorite energy drink, a comfy pair of slippers and a book for down time in the call room.

She has her routine down perfectly. 

Well had it down perfectly.

Until now. 

Because now there is Agatha - bright eyed and sharp tongued and invading every aspect of her being. Every time she closes her eyes she sees Agatha watching her, biting her lip, feigning innocence. Her hair infiltrates her dreams. She swears she can smell her perfume on every pair of scrubs she owns. 

And now Agatha won’t stop texting. 

Apparently, confessing the truth about her little arranged engagement unlocked some new level of entitlement and made Agatha feel like she can go right back to being her flirty little self like nothing ever happened. 

I can’t sleep. Comes a text around 11am, waking Rio up. 

Stop looking at your phone then. Rio replies.

Oh, bossy. I like it. 

I’m literally your boss. 

Rio isn’t sure if she should shut this down or just give in and enjoy the fire. Eventually, Agatha will go off and marry Mr. Bohnerific, probably pop out a couple of kids, quit medicine and pretend to enjoy life in the suburbs - her medical degree boxed up in the garage, gathering dust.

Rio will go back to the job that she lives for. The one that gives her purpose. And slowly, somehow, forget Agatha ever existed. Or at least attempt to. 

Or she could stay mad at her for all the little stunts she’s pulled. Speak to her only when the job deems it necessary. Then no one wins and Rio spends the rest of the year even more miserable.

Rio tries not to think about the possibilities as she tosses and turns in bed, in the middle of the day, struggling to sleep. 

Maybe they could fuck it out. Once. Get it out of their systems. Like it’s some kind of disease and that might be the cure. Rio won’t lie to herself, the thought crossed her mind as she stood cramped in the tiny space of the supply closet, Agatha inches away. It’s part of the reason she had to leave so fast. Otherwise, the impulse to yank at that damn ponytail until Agatha’s head fell back, her neck exposed, demanding her lips, was going the best of her. Maybe Agatha would back her into the shelving, shove her hand down her scrubs and let her ride her fingers to oblivion. Or Rio could drop to her knees and taste her, Agatha’s hand holding back her hair as her tongue dips into her…

Fuck, now she’s wet. 

She just needs one quick orgasm. Get off, settle her mind, then she can get some rest. 

She turns to the bedside nightstand, tugging the drawer open to grab her vibrator. Then she drags down her pajama shorts down to her knees and sets the vibrator to a medium setting. But even that, at first contact, feels like too much and she jumps at the sensation.

She turns it down to low and relaxes, letting her knees fall open, the warmth spreading throughout her belly and core. She focuses on the humming between her legs and exhales against the sensation, the familiar warmth settling in before starting to climb higher. 

But it stops there. The feeling falls, like she’s starting all over again. She rotates her hips against the vibration, trying to grind and deepen the sensation. It doesn’t help. It builds a bit more, then abruptly stops. Her frustration builds. 

“Fuck!” She yells into the void. She turns the vibrator off and pushes it off the edge of the bed. It lands on the floor with a small thud. 

She should just roll over and try to go to sleep but she’s still wet, the unfulfilled sexual desire pulsing beneath her skin. 

She replaces her vibrator with her fingers, trailing down her curls, along her slit. She closes her eyes as she runs her finger across her clit, teasing her entrance. 

The black abyss behind her eyelids falls away until it’s just Agatha in front of her, sitting in her office chair at the hospital, watching her. 

“So wet for me,” She hears Agatha whisper. 

For a second, she wants to shy away, open her eyes and blink away the vision of her intern watching her get off. But she doesn’t move because now, finally, she feels at ease, sliding her fingers from her clit to her entrance. 

She turns to Agatha, to find her staring right at her - face with pure hunger, eyes dilated, watching her finger as it slides easily inside herself. Agatha bites her lip as Rio starts pumping in and out. She can hear how wet she is now, the slick rhythmic sound echoing off her bedroom walls. 

Agatha opens her legs in the chair, dropping her elbows to her knees, leaning closer. It’s like she’s coaching her, encouraging her to keep going - her own private show. As if she can read her mind, she nods to Rio, a small smile across her lips. 

Rio adds a second finger, feeling herself stretch. She whimpers as the spring tightens further, rippling through her as her cunt clenches around her fingers with her movements. 

Her palm presses into her clit and she rotates her hips. She’s so close to dissolving into her pleasure and shattering. She flips onto her stomach quickly, her fingers now curling into her spongy center as she grinds into her hand. 

“Good girl,” Agatha purrs. 

The words send Rio’s back arching, driving her hips into the bed and she sees white behind her eyes.

Rio comes with a small scream, her mouth dropping open. The wave of her orgasm hits her hard, pulling her under. Her toes curl as every muscle in her body tightens and her walls pulse around her fingers, wet and warm. 

Her body jerks again as the pulsing starts to fade, but doesn’t want to open her eyes yet. She lets the image of Agatha watching her still play in her mind. Like she’s mesmerized by the image of Rio getting off in front of her. Agatha’s fingers dig into the legs of her pants, clinging to the material as if to keep from reaching out and touching her. 

Rio can’t bear the intensity anymore and she snaps her eyes open, the image disappearing instantly. 

A tiny pit forms in her stomach at the thought of visualizing her intern like that. And that she has to face her in only a few hours, pretending like she hadn’t just lost control over the image of her watching. 

The guilt dissipates, slowly gives way to wondering what Agatha would be like in that situation. Would she be commanding? Turn the tables and want to be the one in charge, opposite of their everyday life? 

She falls asleep as the possibilities float through her mind. 

— 

At 2pm, Rio’s phone buzzes again. Agatha is relentless. 

I heard a rumor. 

You should be sleeping. 

Can’t. Billy says there was an intern a few years ago, Wanda or something. 

What about her?
Rio already knows where this is going. She remembers the Wanda drama. It’s part of the reason the program became so strict on attending-resident relationships in the first place.  

That some attending got her pregnant. Then he up and left. Or died? And she went insane. 

Insane is a strong term.

So it’s true? 

Try to sleep, Agatha. See you tonight.
Rio’s final text reads, before she sets her phone face down. 

Her phone buzzes once more as she starts drifting to sleep. She glances at it with half opened eyes. 

If you left, I might go insane too. 

—

Night shift always goes one of two ways.

Either its 12 hours of nonstop chaos - stat pages, crashing patients and too many cups of coffee with the night blurring into the light of early morning.  These kinds of nights love to happen on full moons. 

Or it’s unusually quiet. The hospital, like the rest of the world, actually sleeps and the hospital hallways have a stillness to them, a peace. And those nights, she is only paged to a patient room in the case of an emergency.

Rio can usually tell what kind of night it’s going to be the second she walks into the hospital at 7pm. Either the electric buzz of frenzied energy or an unnatural calm fills the air. It’s like the hospital is a living breathing entity - the walls pulsing with life and death. 

Tonight it’s the latter. And for once, she is grateful for it. The madness of the last few weeks, lends way to a quiet mercy. A chance to breathe. 

She grabs a few snacks and an iced coffee from the cafeteria as soon as she walks in before settling into the attending call room. She kicks off her shoes and curls up on the twin sized bed with a new book. 

Her pager and cell phone sit diligently on the bedside table, awaiting a call. 

She tries not to think of Agatha in the resident call room. The potential that she’s just a hallway away.

Rio stares back at her book. She’s read the same paragraph three times and absorbed none of it. The words dissolve against the background noise of her thoughts - of Agatha. 

If Rio opens the door, turns left and walks down the hallway 50 feet, she might find Agatha stretched across a small bed. Maybe her hair would be sprawled across the pillow while she scrolls through her phone or maybe she’s already asleep - curled on her side in her too tight scrubs.

She hates that she’s wondering what Agatha is doing. Or wondering about her at all. Everytime Agatha infiltrates her thoughts, a little voice in the back of her mind reminds her she’s engaged. Off limits. Her intern. 

Now that she’s in the hospital, the fun idea of flirting and touching seems much more risque. There is no situation in the world where this doesn’t end in her world imploding. 

A sudden buzz interrupts her thoughts and she jumps at the noise before realizing it’s her pager. She drops the book in her lap and scrambles to stop the intrusive noise. 

It’s the emergency room calling her to admit a patient to the hospital - an elderly lady with a broken hip. It’s a fairly easy case and a pleasant patient - so she gives it to Billy to undertake. Her rule of thumb is to always give an easy admission to the weakest intern; that way she has a strong intern saved for any true catastrophes. 

An hour later, she sits beside Billy in the emergency room, staring at the computers at the nurses station. He drones on slowly during his assessment of the patient with Rio filling in any gaps he missed. 

As he finishes, he spins in his office chair to turn toward her. “So,” he pauses, more casual now with a sly smile on his face, “how long have you been working here?” 

“Almost 10 years,” she says nonchalantly, eyes on the computer in front of her as she looks through the patient’s x-rays. 

“But what brought you to this hospital? Did you grow up around here or something?” 

Suddenly, this feels more like prying than casual conversation. She turns her chair to face him, eyes narrow. “What’s with the small talk?” 

He blinks. “What do you mean?”

“You always try to dig into your attendings’ personal history or am I just the lucky winner tonight?”

“I’m just trying to get to know you,” he gives a small shrug like it’s no big deal. 

“Or fishing. Looking for dirt to report back to Agatha?” 

Billy’s eyes grow wide at her question and Rio realizes what she said a second too late. 

“Now, why would I be reporting anything back to another intern?” He eggs her on, knowing she’s been caught. 

“Isn’t she your friend?” Rio attempts to pivot. Nothing has happened between you two, she has to mentally remind herself. Any tea Billy thinks he has on her, any leverage he could try to use for God-knows-what, means nothing.

“And she’s your intern. Not really how the hierarchy works, right?”

Rio doesn’t answer right away, which apparently Billy thinks of a gateway to pry some more into her life. 

“Is that why you are jealous of her engagement?” He leans forward toward her like he’s sharing a secret. “Did something like happen-happen with you two?” He’s far too giddy about the entire conversation.

“You’re officially the most annoying intern I’ve ever had.”

“You didn’t deny it.” 

“I don’t owe anything. I’m your boss, remember?,” Rio snaps. “And if you were even half as good at medicine as you are at gossip, I might trust you with more than a broken hip.”

“Ok, ok,” He throws his hands up in mock defense. “I’ll go.” He stands and gathers his things, his lips pursed like he’s contemplating saying more. 

“Let the others know I’ll call them if there is another admission,” Rio says flatly before turning back to the computer. 

Billy stops a few feet away, turning again to Rio like he just can’t resist. He looks around quickly to make sure there is no one else within earshot. 

“For what it’s worth, she literally never stops talking about you. Even if half of it is about how annoying you can be.”

Rio tries not top smile as he turns to leave. 

—

A couple of hours later, she’s actually bored. At least busy nights make the shift go faster; a little adrenaline of a crashing patient every few hours keeps her energized.

Tonight is just crawling by. She did a quick yoga video she found on youtube, downed another cup of coffee and caught up on a bunch of bills that needed to be paid. 

She even did two laps around the emergency room nurses’ station, practically looking for work to do. 

Now she’s lounging in the office chair in the call room, feet propped up on the desk as she scrolls Tik Tok. 

She’s watching yet another Hacks edit when the call room door squeaks open, a mess of black hair poking through the crack.

Billy sticks his head through, then quickly drops his eyes, realizing a second too late that he probably should have knocked. 

“What’s going on?” Rio asks, her feet dropping off the desk as she is immediately concerned about his sudden presence.

“Just seeing if you want to join us for a movie?” Billy looks up cheerfully, opening the door more widely. 

“What?”

“Well it’s been…I won’t say it.” Billy’s eyes dart around, remembering he can’t say the “q word” in the hospital. “But we have some down time. We were going to put a movie on my laptop in the call room.” 

Rio instantly wants to say no. Historically, attendings don’t hang around the interns during night shifts.

Intern usually spend their time chugging energy drinks in their call room, spilling late night secrets to each other. Attendings…well they sleep, stretch, walk laps around the hospital hallways. They aren’t 25 anymore and night shift tends to wreck more havoc on their bodies. 

There is one thing pushing Rio to say yes to a movie on a tiny laptop screen in a cramped call room.

Well, one person.

So she agrees. 

When Rio steps into the room, the whole setup feels suspiciously intentional. Billy and Alice sit on the floor in front of the twin size bed, a laptop propped on an office chair in front of them. 

Agatha is already propped up on the bed behind them, squished to one side, leaving an open area to her left. A well-worn hospital blanket that she clearly stole from the nurses’ station rests across her lap. 

Rio kicks off her shoes and climbs to sit cross legged on the bed next to her, her knee just barely brushing along the side of Agatha’s thigh. Agatha doesn’t make a move to scoot away. 

“They picked the movie,” Agatha notes as Billy starts up the screen. “It’s some low budget horror film about sharks in tornadoes.” 

“Hey!” Alice sounds slightly offended as she clicks off the room lights. 

“Sharknado could totally happen,” Billy insists. 

Rio feels like she’s back in high school again, watching movies in her basement with stolen beer, her heart thudding as her fingers creep closer to the girl beside her, hoping she wouldn’t pull away. 

As the movie begins, Alice and Billy open a bag of Doritos and M&M’s that they snatched from the doctor’s lounge. 

The movie is as bad as promised, full of cheap CGI and cheesy dialogue. Twenty minutes in, now nearly 2am, Rio is struggling to stay awake. She shifts to lean back against the wall, letting her head tip back until she’s resting in a comfortable position. 

Then she feels it. 

A hand slights over her right thigh, slow and deliberate, felt through the fabric of her scrubs.

Her eyes snap open.

Agatha is still looking straight ahead, seemingly focused on the screen. She has a small subtle smile curved into her lips. 

Rio’s gaze drops to her leg. At some point, the edge of the blanket has shifted so it’s now draped across both their laps, neatly hiding Agatha’s hand. 

Agatha’s thumb begins to trace slow, deliberate circles over her fabric. 

Rio should move. Or pull away. But she really, really doesn’t want to. Not when Agatha’s fingers drift toward her inner thigh, gripping the soft flesh there with quiet, possessive pressure. It’s a fucking bold move for Agatha to assume Rio wouldn’t just jump up, calling her out in front of her peers. But as her fingers keep moving, Rio realizes she doesn’t just want to see how far Agatha will push this - she wants her to touch her. 

A rush of warmth floods between her legs as Rio realizes just how close Agatha’s fingers are now to her center, the tips of her fingers skimming the outline of her briefs. Then the faint scent hits her - sharp, musky and hers, lingering in the too small room with the faint smell of sex. 

She knows Agatha can smell it too. Her nostrils flare, her eyelids flicker wider. Her fingernails digging into Rio’s clothed thigh. 

She hopes the others can’t smell it too. 

This is a whole new level of inappropriateness and Agatha isn’t even touching her skin. Despite the fact that her two other interns are sitting right in front of her, and they’re on duty in the hospital call room, Rio wants Agatha’s fingers to do more than sit on top of her clothes. 

Rio barely turns her head, just enough to catch Agatha’s profile. Her lashes are lowered, jaw tense. Rio can see her breathing a bit heavier, like she’s holding back something, hungry. 

Rio’s hand slides slowly under the blanket, careful not to make too much noise. Before she can think further about it, she places her hand flat on top of Agatha’s. For a second, it feels affectionate, like teenagers awkwardly holding hands, but moments later, she’s moving, dragging Agatha’s hand upward to the waistband of her scrubs. 

Then she lets go, leaving Agatha’s hand hovering at her waistband. A thought flashes in her mind quickly that she doesn’t want to push her, this has to be Agatha’s decision, not hers. 

The air seems to shift then, Agatha’s back straightening as the tension increases. Her fingers shift under the blanket, tugging at her pants. Rio’s pulse starts to thunder in her eyes. Her breath catches at the movement. 

The drawstring of Rio’s scrubs loosens in a single pull, the knot falling away. Rio exhales as her thighs relax, opening to her, inviting. 

No one in the room seems to notice. The movie drones on, a faint laugh of Alice heard in the distance. Everyone else feels so far away, like it’s only the two of them there. 

Rio’s stomach muscles tense as Agatha’s fingers brush along her skin, slipping beneath the loosened band of pants. A lightest touch across her skin ignites her like a flame. The room feels too hot and she wants to throw the blanket off her lap and yank down her scrubs. 

But she can’t. 

Not here.

She can only focus on the way Agatha’s fingers drag down the front of her briefs. The way she starts to throb for her, growing wetter. 

Agatha keeps her fingers on top of Rio’s underwear, continuing their journey south before settling between her thighs. The fabric there is drenched and Rio can see her bite her lip as she registers it. Her palm presses down over the soaked cotton. She grinds in slow circles, the heel of her hand adding pressure where Rio aches for it. 

Rio’s head drops back against the wall, careful not to let it thud. Her breath catches and she fights the urge to buck up into the pressure. But her patience is fraying, her thighs starting to tremble as she’s barely holding on. 

It’s like tunnel vision now. The desire for Agatha to sink her fingers into her, push her over the edge has taken over any rational part of her brain. 

But it’s Agatha who stops. Her fingers still over the material, but she doesn’t pull completely away. 

At the loss of movement, a soft, broken whimper slips from Rio’s lips before she can catch it. She opens her half-lidded eyes to see Agatha leaning in, close enough that her breath puffs along the shell of her ear. 

“Can you be quiet for me?” She whispers, voice rough and thick. 

Rio swallows hard before nodding subtly. 

Agatha smiles wickedly. “Good girl.” 

And that’s all it takes for her to push the material to the side, slipping into her wet folds. 

Rio opens her mouth in a silent gasp, her eyes screwing shut as Agatha drags two fingers through her arousal. Her fingers glide through her cunt, gathering her wetness up to circle her clit. She continues like this, raking up and down, never dipping more than the slight tip of her fingertip inside her.  

Rio’s fingers find purchase on the only thing in front of her, the old hospital blanket across her lap. She twists it in her palm in an attempt to keep from screaming. Her hips buck up once into Agatha’s fingers, desperate for more. The pleasure is spreading across her belly, fire raging across her skin with each brush of her clit. It’s not enough, she wants Agatha to fill her. Ruin her. Thoughts of her naked, tangled in her sheets, her head between her thighs, threatened to overwhelm her. 

It’s everything and not enough as she circles her clit again, Rio’s cheeks flaring red as she feels another gush of her arousal coat Agatha’s palm. 

“You’re soaked,” Agatha mutters, voice barely audible but thick with heat. “You want this that badly?”

Rio bites her lips as she nods, unable to look Agatha in the eyes and admit what she does to her. 

“Use your words.” 

“Yes,” Rio breathes. “God, yes.” 

Rio didn’t expect this shift in dynamic. The younger woman, her trainee, had her practically begging for her touch. 

Agatha hums low in her throat, her smirk returning as she shifts in the bed. Her hand never leaves Rio’s skin as she angles herself so the tip of her fingers find her entrance. She doesn’t hesitate as she slides a finger inside her. Then another. The stretch steals the air from Rio’s lungs, but she doesn’t dare cry out. Not here. 

“Stay quiet,” Agatha murmurs again. This time she presses a featherlight kiss to Rio’s cheek. “Or I stop.”

Rio purses her lips, not a sound coming out. She might just up and quit her job before she lets Agatha stop touching her at this moment. Agatha moves again, slow, deep thrusts of her fingers before curling inside of her. 

Rio tries to stay silent, but her body betrays her. Her hips roll to meet every thrust, every nerve electrified. She’s thankful for the obnoxiously loud scenes of people screaming in the movie playing somewhere in the room as her breath comes in small, deperate gasps while Agatha fucks her. 

Agatha watches her falling apart, her eyes dark as she takes in Rio’s flushed cheeks, her tense jaw, her quick breaths. She presses her forehead briefly into Rio’s temple, not stopping. 

“You’re doing so good,” she murmurs, like she’s the one coaching Rio. “You’re so fucking good for me.” 

The praise slices through Rio with more force than the touch. And Rio doesn’t care anymore. She wants to hear her low voice waning on control, coaxing her orgasm out of her. 

Her thighs begin to tremble, the pressure coiling fast and hard in her belly. Agatha must feel the way she clenches around her fingers because he presses deeper, burying her knuckles into her. 

Rio is frantic now, her teeth buried in her bottom lip to stifle the sounds that threaten to tear out of her. 

She’s on the edge of her orgasm, as Agatha curls her fingers into her once more, her thumb pressing into her clit. 

For a brief second, she steals a glance at Agatha only to find her watching her, her expression softer. Their eyes meet for a brief second, but it’s Agatha who looks away first, her eyes dropping down to the blanket, like the intensity of Rio’s gaze is physically burning her. 

It’s the vulnerability in that moment that undoes her. 

The orgasm hits like a wave, sudden and violent. Her legs jerk, threatening to kick the blanket off. A strangled sound from her throat starts to escape. Agatha’s other hand flies up to cover her mouth as it does, making the angle now awkward and twisted. Rio folds forward instinctively to the only thing in front of her, forcing her to bury her face into the crook of Agatha’s neck as she convulses. 

Agatha holds her there, her hand moving slowly as she coaxes her through the aftershocks.  As Rio stills, she remains pressed against Agatha’s neck and side, heart racing as she comes down from her high. 

Agatha draws her fingers out of her scrubs slowly when she finally stills. She catches a glimpse of Rio’s eyes once more before she brings them both to her mouth and sucking them clean. Her tongue laps along the sides. 

She turns to Rio, mouthing “so good” before she continues her quest to clean every last drop from her skin. 

“Agatha?” comes Billy’s voice, suddenly, from the floor below. 

Rio jumps at the sound, reality crashing back into place. She’s still in the call room. The resident call room. The interns sit immediately below the space she was just fucked in. The air feels colder, the room feels much smaller, and the movie too loud. 

Agatha is unfazed. 

“Hmm...” She mumbles with her two fingers still in her mouth. 

“How did you like it?” He asks. She gives him a blank look, the fingers dropping from her mouth onto the blanket below, wiping off the saliva. He gestures to the laptop. “The movie.” 

“It was better than I ever imagined,” Agatha sugar coats. “I’d just love to watch it again sometime.” 

Rio knows she isn’t talking about a low-budget shark movie anymore. She feels her neck flush at the innuendo, guilt following right behind it. 

She just let an intern fuck her. Publicly in a call room. Never in her 10 years at this hospital has she done anything so remotely close to this. Hell, she hasn’t even called in sick before. 

A wave of nausea rolls through her. 

“What did you think, Rio?” Agatha asks, all innocence. Then she slowly, deliberately, adds “I mean Dr. Vidal.” 

Rio stands up quickly, the blood rushing a bit from her head as she does. She gathers her pager and cell phone, shoving them into her scrub pants, still untied. She starts rushing to the door, almost tripping over Billy’s outstretched legs in the process. 

“I’ll page you if something comes up,” she mutters, pulling the door shut behind her. Just outside, she stops to slump against the wall, face buried in her hands. 

Through the door, she can hear Billy’s voice drift out, “I guess she didn’t like it.” 

“Oh no,” Agatha laughs. “She loved it.” 

Chapter Text

Rio’s sneakers hit the linoleum hard as she moves down the hallway, trying to refrain from breaking into a full-on run. Every movement is a reminder of what she just did - her scrubs rubbing against her damp, sticky thighs, her skin too sensitive from Agatha’s touch. 

She ducks back into her call room. The overhead fluorescent light feels too harsh, too bright on her overtired eyes. She clicks off the light switch with shaky hands, turning on the small desk lamp on the nightstand instead. It basks the room in a softer, warm glow. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen. Not here. And not like that - with Agatha in control, with Rio giving in so easily, so fast.

She drops onto the bed as she exhales slowly, but it catches in her throat halfway. She covers her face with both hands, just trying to regain some sense of composure. 

What the fuck are you doing?

It’s not like her. She’s the attending. She’s supposed to be above this. Detached. In control.

Not letting some barely-graduated intern finger her in a call room at work.

Is it worse that she let her? Or worse that she enjoyed it so much she’s already thinking about what it would feel like for Agatha to get her off again? 

Fuck.

There’s a knock at the door and she freezes. She wants to pretend she doesn’t know who it is. Or that she isn’t there. Neither of which she can actually get away with. 

“Dr. Vidal?”

Rio closes her eyes. She doesn’t answer.

The door cracks open anyway. Of course it does, because Agatha never waits for permission. 

Agatha slips inside wordlessly and closes the door behind her, leaning against it casually. She seems so untouchable, despite her somewhat disheveled look. Her scrub top is wrinkled and untucked. Her hair now pulled out of her usually messy ponytail and tangled down her back. Her cheeks are flushed pink and Rio tries not to think about how she could be the reason behind it. 

“Are you hiding,” Agatha says, voice low, “or panicking?”

“Get out.”

Agatha doesn’t move.

Rio rises from her spot on the bed, walking forward until she’s face to face with her. “I said get out, Agatha,” she practically growls, clenching her jaw. 

That makes Agatha blink, but just once, before she tilts her head instead of retreating. Her voice drops low. “Say my name like that again.” 

Rio’s face flushes hot. “Don’t.”

“You liked it,” Agatha murmurs. She leans in, peeling herself away from the door until her mouth hovers only centimeters from Rio’s lips. She can feel small puffs of air hit her face as Agatha whispers, “I felt you. Every part of you wanted that.” 

She backs up against the door once more, her eyes raking down Rio, taking her all in, “You still do. Don’t you?”

Rio plants a hand on the door behind Agatha’s head, an attempt to steady herself. Her fingers linger just above Agatha’s hair, pressing firmly into the wood. It ends up looking more like she’s caging her in - and maybe she is. She wants to take the power back, set the world back on its rightful axis. Despite being taller, despite being her boss, she still feels like she is the one unraveling. Even now, the proximity of Agatha makes her dizzy, like her mind is fuzzy, tunnel vision except for the one person in front of her. 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” Rio murmurs, but there is no real bite to it. Her eyes drop to Agatha’s lips as she says it and the words feel hollow, false. 

“I do, actually. You let me.”

“That was a mistake,” Rio resolves quickly. 

A slow, wicked smile curls across Agatha’s face. She steps forward, close enough for Rio to feel the heat rolling off her skin. 

“Are. You. Sure?” She pauses with every word. Deliberate. Calculated. As she does, she brings her palm to the junction of Rio’s thighs, pressing her fingers into the damp material. 

“Are you wet for me right now, doctor?” She murmurs, “If I reach into your scrubs again, will I find you dripping for me?” 

The dam breaks. 

Rio drops her hand from the door frame, threading into the nape of Agatha’s neck, bracing her there. Her fingers dig into the flesh, just enough and Agatha tilts her head back on instinct. Rio’s other hand slams into her right hip, nails digging in, holding her there possessively. 

In an instant, Rio’s lips crash into Agatha’s. The hesitation, the guilt is gone, replaced with heat and hunger overtaking her. 

Rio tilts her head to kiss her deeper, feeling more frantic now. She bruises into her, her left hand pulling at her hair, opening Agatha up to her mouth more. She feels possessed. Or possessive - no man, no random fiancé in the world would kiss her like this. Like she’s trying to consume her, brand her. Until Rio’s face is the only thing in Agatha’s mind every time she sees that stupid man she’s engaged to. 

Her body starts to ache for Agatha once more. The cooling, damp underwear growing warm, fresh with new arousal. She wants her deeper, more wholly. There is no coming back from this. No place that exists where Rio will ever not think of Agatha’s hip gliding against hers, the fire pooling in her belly. 

When Rio’s tongue slips past her lips, Agatha’s composure slips. 

“Fuck,” Agatha growls, her hands flying to cradle Rio’s jaw. Her fingers dig in as she kisses her back with matching intensity, her tongue moving in tune with Rio’s. 

Agatha’s hands trail down her neck, her shoulders, starting to roam down her body. Rio can feel the control slipping again, the desire to just bend to Agatha’s will starting to pull her under. 

But not this time. This time she wants to feel her. 

She gathers Agatha’s hair in her hand, close to the root, and tugs. Agatha’s eyes snap up to meet Rio’s - the motion clearly work - dark, deep desire clouds her vision. 

Rio wraps an arm around her waist, raising her from the door she’s pressed against. Agatha practically yelps, caught off guard at the ease in which Rio carries her with one arm. 

“Bed, now.” Rio commands. 

She drops Agatha in front of the bed, onto her feet. Agatha breaks the kiss, for just a second, whipping off her shirt in the process, Her bra quickly follows.

And Rio can’t help it, she looks down at her - bare chested, nipples pebbled under the cool air of the room. 

She takes two large steps toward her. Agatha must think she’s going to touch her, the way her back straightens like she’s offering her chest up as some sacrifice, a prize. 

Instead, Rio hooks both arms behind Agatha’s thighs and hoists her up. Agatha’s legs wrap around her waist instinctively. 

“God, you’re strong,” Agatha’s hand run down Rio’s shoulders, squeezing her biceps. 

“I have a small gym in my garage where I lift. Plus yoga. Sometimes I find the videos on YouTube. Like tonight, I….”

She’s cut off by Agatha’s lips leaning down from her spot above her. She deeps the kiss, fingers gripping Agatha’s thighs as she does - until Agatha pulls back just enough to speak. 

“You’re adorable. But are you going to keep talking about your exercise routine or are you going to fuck me?” 

Rio walks over to the edge of the bed, her legs bumping against the wood bed frame. She drops Agatha onto her back, landing with a soft thud on the small mattress.

Agatha plants both feet on the bed and lifts her hips, sliding off her scrub pants and underwear in one smooth motion before tossing them to the floor. 

Rio should have known Agatha would be like this. Unabashed, looking like a sinful present as she scoots forward on the bed. Rio can’t help but watch as she brings her knees up, feet braced at the bed’s edge. 

Open.

She’s opened herself up to her as fully as she can. Rio wants to think of it like an offering. 

Agatha pushes up onto her elbows, her abs flexing slightly as she watches Rio. Studies her. 

Rio takes a second to drink her all in. She drags her gaze over Agatha’s body - her breath catches at the sight of her - laid out, legs spread and waiting. Her thighs are flushed and trembling just slightly. The soft swell of her stomach rises with every breath. A small landing strip of curls stops right before her folds, the hair glistening with slick arousal. She’s puffy and pink with want. 

Rio drops to her knees in front of the bed, like she’s at an altar and Agatha’s cunt is all she wants to worship. 

Agatha sucks in a breath as her hands curl into the sheets behind her. Waiting. Anticipating. 

Rio slides her hands up the back of Agatha’s thighs, fingers sinking into the skin as she leans forward. She drags her mouth along the inside of one thigh, unhurried, until she moves toward the junction of her legs. 

Her right hand spreads Agatha open, fingers slowly coating themselves in her arousal. 

“You’re soaked,” Rio whispers against her thigh, her voice low. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“Shut up,” Agatha returns as her hand pushes Rio’s head down toward her cunt, making her desire known. 

Rio drops her head closer, becoming enveloped in her scent. She flicks her tongue against her once, light and maddening. Agatha jerks her hips lifting to get closer. 

Then Rio flattens her tongue to take one long, slow lick along the folds. 

“Shit,” she takes another long swipe of Agatha’s folds. “You even taste good.”

“Of course I do,” Agatha moans. 

Rio brings her mouth back to her, lapping at her. 

As she dips her tongue into her entrance, Agatha’s hips begin to roll in smooth circles, a ring of wetness forming beneath her on the sheets. Rio continues to lap at her, circling her clit then tracing down. 

The rhythm starts to shift as Agatha grows more frantic. She grinds against Rio’s mouth with purpose now. Her fingers tangle in Rio’s hair, tugging hard, holding her there. Forcing her deeper. 

She’s drowning in her, surrounded by the scent of her arousal, the slick desire on her tongue and the desperate, broken moans pouring from Agatha’s lips. 

It’s heaven wrapped in an HR nightmare. But nothing else matters at this moment. She just wants to feel Agatha come against her mouth. 

She picks up the pace, sucking hard against Agatha’s clit. Agatha lets out a strangled cry, her hips moving in more frantic, uneven thrusts. Rio reaches out, an arm pinning her hips to the bed, holding her tight against her mouth.

She can feel Agatha’s arm against her head, fingers now grasping at her own breast, pinching and rolling the nipple beneath her fingertips. 

A wrecked moan comes from above her, Agatha’s head falling backward. 

“Do you want more?” Rio asks, her voice low and hoarse. She doesn’t want to wait for an answer before diving back in, lapping at her then alternating sucking and flicking her clit. She brings a hand up to the inside of her thigh, fingers poised along the flesh at her entrance. 

Rio wants to touch her. Fill her. She wants Agatha to sit on her face until she can’t breathe. Until her lungs burn and her mouth is soaked with nothing but her. 

She can tell Agatha is holding back. Rio can feel it in the trembling of her high, her swollen cunt starts to clench, so close but not quite falling over the edge. 

“Let go, Agatha,” she sucks more fervently on her clit, before pressing her tongue flat against the bud, applying pressure. 

“Fingers,” Agatha moans, the words coming out rushed. “Now.”

Rio doesn’t wait. She pushes two fingers inside her, sliding through her with ease. She curls them upward instantly, hitting the spongy spot as she pumps in once, twice - the wet, squishy sound is obscene. And perfect. 

At the same time her tongue circles her clit again with tight, focused swirls around the swollen bud, in sync with her fingers.

Agatha screams. 

Her thighs clamp shut around Rio’s head and hand trapping her there in the shudder of her climax. The sound is muffled by Agatha’s thighs and Rio can only pray no one else hears it. 

A gush of wetness escapes Agatha, squirting forward to flood Rio’s mouth until it’s dripping down her chin and onto the bed beneath Agatha’s thighs. She sucks it down greedily, like a woman starved. 

Her mouth stays there, lingering with slow, steady licks as Agatha jerks above her. 

Goosebumps rise along Agatha’s thighs as she comes down from her high. “I…” she sighs, her head and arms dropping back onto the bed as she lies back. “I’ve never done that before.” 

“I want to do that again,” Rio murmurs, drunk on the idea of more Agatha. Her fingers find Agatha’s entrance once more, pressing in up to the first knuckle. 

Agatha hisses at the sensation, her stomach muscles tightening in response. 

Rio pauses, stilling her fingers. She hesitates before she starts to pull back. 

“Come back,” Agatha insists, her hand moving to grasp Rio’s wrist, guiding her firmly back in place. 

Rio eases two fingers inside again, pushing in slowing, giving Agatha the chance to adjust to the sensitivity. She holds them there, waiting, placing small kisses along Agatha’s inner thighs. She can taste her salty sweet arousal starting to dry on the skin. 

“God, please move,” Agatha groans frustratedly, pushing her hips up against Rio’s still hand. Her voice is tight, just edged on desperation. Rio loves it. 

She stays perfectly still, fingers buried deep but unmoving, her mouth still resting near the inside of Agatha’s thigh. She’s pushing her further, edging her toward desperation. 

Agatha keeps moving her hips, seeking friction despite Rio’s lack of movement. Agatha might be panting, flushed, legs spread wide - but she’s still trying to keep a shred of control, that much is obvious. Agatha moves her hand down her abdomen to swipe across her clit, taking matters into her own hands. 

“Uh uh.” Rio’s hand grasps at Agatha wrist, drawing it to Agatha’s side, pinning it there. 

“Then do something already!” 

Rio presses a small kiss along her mons, then drags her tongue along the sides of her folds - not touching where Agatha wants her month. Teasing. Tormenting.   

Agatha gasps, thighs trembling. “Rio, please.” 

Rio smiles, lips curling against the inside of her thigh. “Say it again.”

Agatha’s voice drops to a sultry purr. “Dr. Vidal.” 

That does it. 

Rio grins before her tongue dives into her soaked folds, quickly making her way to lock her hips around her clit and sucking - hard. At the same time, her fingers curl and thrust deep, buried inside her. 

“More,” Agatha cries out, her voice breaking. 

Rio sinks a third finger into Agatha, feeling her stretch and then clench around her. She is hot and pulsing around her fingers. 

“Fuck,” Rio groans as Agatha flutters around her. “So tight.” 

She draws her fingers out, then pushes back in with a steady glide. She picks up the pace, her fingers working in an unrelenting rhythm. Her palm grinds against Agatha’s clit.

Agatha lets out a strangled sound, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. 

“Shit,” Agatha exhales sharply, her voice wrecked. “I’m going to come.”

The second orgasm crashes into her more quickly. Her body locks up, eyes squeezing shut as wave after wave rolls through her. She’s left shaking and gasping, her hips stuttering against Rio’s hand. 

Rio doesn’t stop. She keeps sucking, fingers moving deep to drag every last spasm from her body, determined to make her feel everything. 

Only when Agatha jerk away, her body too raw and oversensitive, does Rio finally relent. 

She carefully withdraws her fingers, gently as Agatha twitches slightly at the loss.

Rio reaches toward the bedside table, grabbing a few tissues. “Sorry,” she looks up at Agatha apologetically, holding the tissue in her hand, “I wish I had something better.” 

Rio leans in, gently dabbing up with what can without adding to the stimulation. She moves quietly before wiping off her own fingers. Agatha’s legs drop off the edge of the bed - heavy and exhausted. She lets out a low sigh, her body loose and boneless, before crawling up toward the pillow. 

Rio rises slowly from the floor, her knees stiff from kneeling too long. She stretches, shaking out her legs gently before climbing onto the bed, sitting next to Agatha. Agatha is already there, reclining with her head on the pillow. Too comfortable, too at home in the attending call room space. 

Rio hovers for a moment, undecided, ultimately resolving that she feels more content sitting up next to her. She brings her knees up, resting her arms across them. 

But Agatha won’t allow the distance. She reaches out, fingers curling gently around Rio’s hand, tugging her down beside her. 

Rio concedes easily to drop to the pillow next to her. Her eyes fix on the ceiling, listening to the sounds of Agatha’s breathing even out.

It takes her half a minute before Agatha turns to her to rest on her side, one arm tucked behind her head. 

“You’re still dressed,” Agatha notes, voice casual but pointed. 

Rio glances down at her scrubs, then back at her. “That I am,” she says with a tight-lipped smile. 

Agatha reaches over, fingers grasping the hem of Rio’s top, starting to ease it upward. 

But Rio catches her wrist mid-motion, stopping her. “Don’t,” she shifts sideways on the bed, creating more space between them. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow. “Why? Nervous?” Her tone is teasing, edged with mischief. “You’ve already come for me once, you know. That was…incredibly hot, by the way.” 

“This isn’t the same.”

“How so?” Agatha props herself up on her elbow. 

Rio hesitates. “You’re 25. Look at you.” Her eyes rake down her still naked body, lounging casually in front of her. 

Agatha tilts her head at Rio, waiting for more explanation. 

“God, this is embarrassing.” Rio drops her gaze. Looking into Agatha’s icy blue eyes is just too much. Too intense. Too vulnerable. “I’m twenty years older than you, Agatha. My body is twenty years old. Softer. Different.”

“Different doesn’t mean worse you know.”

Rio lets out a low, humorless laugh. “Spoke like someone whose skin still bounces back.”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Agatha teases, squeezing them shut then slips her fingers under the hem of Rio’s shirt, tugging it just beneath her breasts. 

Agatha cracks one eye open, stealing a playful peek at the exposed skin then grinning as she pushes the shirt higher, over Rio’s breasts and off entirely. She moves down her body again, tugging at the scrub pants, still untied from earlier. 

“I know you are peeking.” 

“So sue me.” As Agatha says it, she reaches behind Rio’s back to snap open her bra, stripping it off. 

Rio shivers as Agatha’s fingers begin to trace along the curve of her ribs. 

“Agatha…” It’s meant to be a warning, but it lands somewhere between a sigh and a plea.

“God you are so hot.” Agatha murmurs, fingers still tracing the underside of Rio’s breast. 

Rio rolls her eyes sarcastically, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Be serious.”

“I am.” Agatha places feather light kisses along her collarbones, working her way down to her sternum.  “Have you seen you?” 

Rio sucks in a breath, her body arching without permission. The motion forces her breasts closer to Agatha’s mouth. Agatha hovers there, her long brown hair cascading down her face, across Rio’s chest. Her tongue flicks out, teasing the tip of her nipple. Then she closes her lips, blowing cool air across the damp peak. 

Rio shudders. 

The motion pulls a smile from Agatha, like a challenge has just been unlocked. She cups Rio’s breast fully, settling the weight of it in her hand, squeezing slightly. Her thumb pinches the nipple, rolling and pinching the sensitive nub. 

Then Agatha leans in again, sealing her mouth over Rio’s nipple. She sucks softly, just enough to make her whimper. 

“Oh shit,” Rio breathes, her head tipping forward to watch Agatha - her mouth works on one breast, while her hand tugs at the other. Rio hands slide into Agatha’s hair, anchoring her there as her hips shift, seeking friction. 

Agatha deepens the motion, sucking hard at her, sending lightning down Rio’s abdomen straight to her core. A sharp cry escapes Rio’s lips as Agatha continues her relentless pace.

Rio can’t believe how fast it’s building, how quickly she’s unraveling and she realizes she might come from this. She doesn’t care if it’s too much, too soon, she wants to shatter. And now. 

“Don’t…don’t stop,” Rio whimpers, her voice breathy. Agatha quickens her pace, tongue lapping hungrily, her teeth grazing the hypersensitive skin just enough to sting. 

Rio’s chest starts to heave, her breathing growing heavier. A slight sheen of sweat coats her forehead as the room grows warmer. Her whole body coils, teetering on the edge. 

Then Agatha pulls back. 

“Wait, no, no, no,” Rio protests, her voice bordering on panicked. “Why did you stop?”

Agatha climbs up to meet her gaze,  lips wet with saliva. “I’m not letting you come just from that,” she smirks like she figured her out. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

“Oh that’s so not fair,” Rio argues, but Agatha doesn’t move. She just watches like she’s letting Rio cool down. Rio is having none of it. Her nipples still feel the buzz of Agatha’s tongue, her clit throbbing with want and inattention. “Fine, I’ll take care of it myself then.” She trails her hand down her curls, seeking her wet heat. Her fingers graze her clit, her legs squeeze together as she increases the pressure. 

For a second, Agatha watches her, eyes wide at the image of Rio’s fingers sinking into herself. It’s like she’s mesmerized by the image before her, watching reverently. 

Rio circles her clit again, harder this time, her hips lifting into her own hand. A needy sound slips out - guttural and unrestrained. 

“God…” Rio whimpers, her head tipping back as her hips roll against her own hand. Two fingers slide lower, gathering her arousal up before plunging inside.

Rio can hear Agatha’s breathing grow ragged at the sight as her eyes flutter closed. 

“Fuck,” Rio groans at the stretch. Her other hand flies to her breast, pinching the nipple as she chases the high Agatha denied her. Her breathing turns more ragged, sharp moans escaping with the thrusts of her fingers. 

Agatha continues to watch her like that, her lips parted, eyes heavy - as if the image alone is enough to undo her. Again. 

“Agatha…” Rio draws out, arching as she whimpers her name. 

Something in Agatha snaps then. 

She moves in an instant, grabbing Rio’s wrist mid-thrust. “Enough,” Agatha growls, voice low and dangerous. She pins the other wrist next to the first one along her lower stomach. 

Rio wrenches in Agatha’s grasp, it’s not enough force to keep her bound completely. But as she moves, Agatha’s fingernails dig into her inner wrist. 

“No,” Agatha commands, wrenching her hand completely away from her core now, pinning it hard against the mattress above her head.  The move is sharp and decisive - a sense of dominance flooding back like a surge of electricity.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Rio spits back. 

Agatha laughs. A straight mocking sound as she tightens her grip once more along Rio’s wrists. “You don’t get to come unless I say so.” 

Rio’s breath hitches, her chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. She doesn’t want to admit what Agatha in command does to her. Instead she just trembles slightly, torn between more defiance and complete surrender. 

Agatha leans closer - her voice dangerous. “You want to come?” Her lips trail hot down Rio’s jaw. She kisses her hard enough to bruise, pressing harshly into her lips. Her teeth catch Rio’s lower lip and bite down, sinking down in the flesh. She soothes the small wound with her tongue.

“Then you’re going to take everything I fucking give you,” Agatha growls against her mouth. “Understand?” Agatha’s hand slides in between Rio’s thighs as she says it. 

Rio’s only answer is a strangled sound. 

Agatha doesn’t wait for more. It seems like she never really expected an answer. Instead she pulls back, scooting toward the edge of the bed. 

“Hold on,” She slides halfway off the bed, hands braced on the floor, ass high in the air as she reaches for her scrub pants crumpled on the ground. 

“What are you doing?” Rio whispers, mouth now dry, as she watches Agatha. She doesn’t dare move her hands from their place above her head. 

She grabs the waistband of the scrubs, fingers sliding into the front pocket. Her deep purple underwear, previously bunched inside - fall to the floor. 

“Got it,” Agatha pulls out a small, lipstick-shaped object and grins, clamoring back onto the bed. 

“You brought a vibrator to the hospital?”  Rio asks as Agatha holds up the object like a prize. 

“Thought I might have some downtime tonight,” Agatha replies breezily, flicking the switch. The low buzz hums between them as she climbs up Rio’s legs, nudging her knees open. “Turns out I was right.”

As soon as Rio’s legs fall open, she slips between them, pressing the vibrator to her clit without warning. 

Rio shrieks at the sudden motion, her hips jolting up at the contact. The vibration is relentless, even on low and Agatha didn’t ease her into it. 

“Oh fuck,” Rio chokes out, her wrists still resting above her head. Every nerve is on fire, buzzing with need as her body aches. 

“Such a good girl for me,” Agatha watches Rio, smirking as her body writhes beneath her. She applies more pressure, rocking the toy against her swollen clit. Rio’s hips lift off the bed, trying to match the rhythm. Her fingers turn to dig into the pillow above her head. 

Agatha’s gaze flicks away quickly, moving to search the room, seemingly looking for something. Her eyes land on Rio’s nearby stethoscope, resting on the bedside table. 

“Don’t move,” she drops the vibrator. It buzzes against the sheets on the bed beneath her. She reaches toward the table to grab the stethoscope. She climbs up Rio, legs resting on either side of her head as she loops the stethoscope around Rio’s wrists above her head in a loose knot. 

“There,” she says, tightening the knot, “That’s better.” 

Rio tugs against the tubing, wrists flexing. It’s just firm enough to remind her not to go anywhere. 

Agatha returns to pick up the vibrator again. She returns it to Rio’s clit. Hard. Rio instantly starts wiggling against the restraint.

“Oh my god,” Rio cries. 

Agatha watches her with a wicked look across her face, free hand now moving to press down on Rio’s lower abdomen, holding her still. 

The vibrations are merciless, buzzing directly over her clit. Her body starts to shake, legs squirming wildly. Her thighs try to snap shut at the overwhelming sensation, but Agatha shifts, slipping her body between them, holding her open.

“No,” she demands, “You’re going to take it.”

Rio lets out a low, helpless moan. Her body attempts to buck again but she’s trapped by Agatha’s hand on her abdomen, her hands tied up by the stethoscope. Her muscles ache with the need for release. 

The vibrator moves up, just enough, to give Agatha room to slip two fingers inside of Rio. 

“Fuck yes,” Agatha growls. 

She drives her fingers deep, pumping in and out. She curls them, relentless and precise. Rio’s breathing grows ragged. 

“Oh my god,” Rio cries out. Her eyes are unfocused and wide. Every muscle in her body pulls taunt, trembling. Her bound hands twist uselessly against the stethoscope tubing. 

Agatha leans over to watch her face - teetering on the edge as her fingers pump harder. “That’s right,” her voice rough, “give it to me.” 

Rio shatters with a strangled sob. Her thighs seize up, squeezing inward against Agatha as the orgasm crashes over her. 

She practically tries to sit up at the raw devastation that racks over her. As the wave settles, she rocks back into the bed, her chest heaving. 

“No more,” she sobs, twisting her body to get away from the toy, on the edge of collapse. 

Agatha finally pulls the toy away as Rio slows down, her body starting to still and relax. Her hands, still bound in the stethoscope, drop toward her stomach as she curls onto her side, gasping. 

The humming noise of the vibrator stops and the room is suddenly so quiet, filled with the smell of sweat and sex. 

Agatha leans toward Rio, starting to undo the knot holding her hands bound together. She carefully strokes the skin where the pressure had been, turning her wrists over to examine the area. 

“Look at you,” she drops the stethoscope to brush a sweaty strand of hair from Rio’s forehead. What happened to all that control, Dr. Vidal?” She teases but her voice is almost sweet beneath the taunt. 

Rio turns onto her back to glare at her. “Fuck you.” 

With not an ounce of offense in her voice, she quickly fires back, “you just did, repeatedly.” 

“Don’t be so smug,” Rio replies weakly, knowing her words fall on deaf ears. 

Agatha smirks before curling into Rio’s chest, her bare hand resting between her breasts. A curtain of hair falling over half her face, shielding her as she closes her eyes. 

“You can’t stay here,” Rio murmurs, brushing a strand of hair behind Agatha’s ear. 

“I know. Just give me 5 minutes and I’ll get up,” Agatha promises. 

Rio exhales and looks up at the ceiling. 

“Fine, but don’t fall asleep.” 

She’ll give her a moment. Just a moment before she sends her back toward the other interns.

“I won’t,” her words barely audible and slightly slurred, like she was halfway to sleep already. 

As Agatha’s breathing starts to grow heavy, Rio starts counting ceiling tiles, trying to will herself not to fall asleep. 

She turns her head slowly to not wake Agatha but steals a glance at the bedside clock - 5am. She has two hours before shift change. 

She’ll rest for just a second then wake Agatha up before anyone from day shift shows. 

She settles deeper into the mattress as Agatha curls more into her side. 

Soon, her own eyes struggled to stay up, the edges of her vision blurring as sleep pulled at her. 

She shuts her eyes for just a moment.

A cat nap really. 

—

Something feels off.

Rio’s eyes snap open. The restful haze of the night vanishes in an instant. The air is too warm for early morning, the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway already illuminated. 

She turns toward the bedside clock. 

7:45am. 

“No, no no,” Rio scrambles out of bed, heart racing. “Fuck!” she yells, yanking on her scrubs with trembling hands. 

Agatha sits up sleepily, the hospital sheets pooling around her waist. “What is it?”

“Get up. Now. Get dressed.” 

“Wait, were we paged?” Agatha stands, slipping on her scrub pants. 

“No. We’re fucking late,” she gestures toward the clock. 

They finish dressing in rushed silence. Rio grabs her badge and stethoscope, shoving them in the pocket of her white coat. 

She cracks open the door, shielding Agatha with her body, to peek out into the hallway. 

“The hallway is clear. Go find Alice and Billy - get sign out. Say you crashed in an empty patient room or the surgery call room. Make something up.” 

“I think they already left…” Agatha barely has time to respond before Rio practically shoves her out the door. 

Rio waits to see Agatha turn the corner before she steps out, attempting to look as casual and nonchalant as possible. She closes the door behind her, turning…

Only to run straight into Dr. Jennifer Kale - looking, far-too well rested, and absolutely pissed. 

“When were you planning on telling me my patient crashed overnight?” Her voice is clipped. “He looks like shit this morning.”

Rio stares at her, stunned. “He was fine. I swear. No one paged me.” As she says it, she fishes her pager out of her pocket. 

Seven pages. 

Her stomach drops. 

She missed seven pages while she fucked Agatha. 

“Oh, so all the nurses were lying when they said they paged multiple times? They said they even paged you overhead on the intercoms.”

“I...I must have slept through it.”

“What the hell’s happening to you, Vidal? You are usually on top of your shit,” Jen questions, her head tilting a bit as if she’s trying to decipher some mystery. 

“Dr. Vidal is always on top of things,” comes Agatha’s voice from further down the hallway. Christ, why won’t she ever just do what she’s told? 

“Who the fuck is this?” Jen whips around at the voice. 

“Intern,” Rio says dismissively. 

“So, you have interns doing your bidding now.” It’s not a question. 

“She’s just sucking up. Trying to get a good eval,” Rio mutters. She doesn’t dare look at Agatha. 

She sees Agatha glares at her out of the corner of her eye and Rio prays she understands it’s all for show. 

“Run along then, intern.” Jen waves a dismissive hand at her before pushing past Rio into the call room. 

She surveys the room for a second - the sheets tangled, one corner of the fitted sheet lifted half-off the mattress.

“Jesus, what the hell happened here?” Jen steps over the mess toward the computer, sitting down to log in. “It stinks.” 

Rio forces a dry laugh. “Night terror,” she mumbles. “I’ll take these.” She gathers up the sheets, wrapping up the evidence of their night into a giant ball before dropping them in the hamper in the corner of the room. 

Jen glances back at her once more, eyes narrow. “Look, I’m not going to report you or anything for your little lapse in judgement with the pager. But you need to get your shit together girl.” She turns back to the computer to begin her day.

Chapter Text

In her 10 years of practice, Rio has only missed one day of work. Until now. 

She can’t bring herself to even call, worried her voice will betray her. Instead, she texts the backup physician for the day, faking food poisoning. 

She doesn’t know how to face Agatha; how to talk to her anymore. 

How does she continue as her attending knowing how she moans when her mouth is on her? How does she look her in the eye when Agatha’s coaxed two orgasms out of her in one night? 

So she decides to break things off. Whatever this “thing” is. It’s for the best. For both of them. 

That’s it. 

She’s going to keep all her emotions nice and buried deep and focus on her career. Clearly, Agatha clouds her judgement. A toxic substance oozing into her that poisons her blood until she can’t even do the simplest tasks at work. 

So she spends her day off hiding in the covers while she catches up on Love Island for an obscene amount of hours - until the light fades outside and her eyes burn from staring at her screen.

Agatha doesn’t text her the entire day. 

— 

When Rio finally makes it back to work the next day, she gets into the office early, even before the interns. She brings coffee, a ridiculously large iced latte clearly for herself and no one else. She doesn’t apologize for not asking them if they wanted one. She plants it right next to her computer to make sure the interns can see it.

A clear line in the sand. 

I’m the attending. Not your friend. I don’t bring you coffee. 

Professional.

Distanced.

She doesn’t glance up from the computer as her trio walks in. 

They silently plant themselves at their computers and get to work, but Rio can see their suspicious gazes as they type. 

“We missed you yesterday,” Billy offers cheerfully. Rio doesn’t return a smile. 

“Food poisoning,” she replies dryly. 

Clearly her plan is backfiring, because Agatha looks far too smug at Rio’s answer. Like she thinks Rio was too wrecked and unable to walk to make it to work. When in reality she was sulking about how Agatha seems to have fucked up her entire life for a quick fuck. 

“Dr. Kale took over for you. And she isn’t nearly as pleasant,” Billy remarks. 

“I liked her,” Alice shrugs. 

“What gave you food poisoning?” Agatha probes. 

“Does it matter?” Rio snaps back. 

Agatha purses her lips like she’s trying not to burst out laughing. 

Rio stands up quickly, gathering her things. 

“We are going to do walking rounds today,” she snaps as she walks toward the door, expecting them to jump up and follow. No one moves. 

“What’s walking rounds?” Alice asks. 

“Rounds at each patients’ room,” Agatha offers, logging off her computer and standing.

“Exactly. You will present your patient to me in the room in front of them. It helps the patient feel included in their medical decision making, plus it helps you all stay professional during rounds. No distractions, no making jokes,” Rio says flatly. 

“I think we are very professional during rounds,” Billy shrugs. 

“Totally professional at all times,” Agatha almost snickers. Rio wants to strangle her. 

Instead she turns and walks out the door. The interns finally get the idea and rush to follow behind her. 

As they step into the elevator, Agatha moves to stand beside her, the back of her hand brushing lightly against Rio’s. The contact is brief, but it’s enough to make Rio’s skin prickle anyway. She forces herself to take a half step sideways, breaking the contact. 

She can feel Agatha’s eyes glancing down at her hand as she does, a small angry huff of air escaping her lips. 

The elevator continues to hum as they move, silence stretching across the small room. Only the sound of Billy’s frantic rustling breaks it as he flips through his notes, trying to memorize as much patient info as she can in the short period. 

Rio keeps her eyes fixed on the passing elevator numbers, trying to will the ride to end. 

—

“Good morning, Mrs. Harvey. We are going to do things differently today. Dr. Wu-Gulliver is going to be leading rounds. So I’ll let her do the talking and I’ll jump in if she needs me,” Rio smiles and winks at the elderly lady in bed. 

That first patient room takes 45 minutes. 

Alice can’t seem to remember any of her patient’s lab numbers and she didn’t have time to write them down. Agatha has to log onto the bedside computer to read them outloud to her. 

Then Rio makes her go through an entire physical exam, narrating as she goes. Alice fumbles her way through it, pausing awkwardly halfway through because she can’t remember the next step. Rio has to bail her out by finishing the exam. 

The patient seems delighted in the extra attention. Everyone else looks miserable. 

Except Rio. 

She’s actually relishing in the way all of them seem rushed, frantic and confused. In the way they have to keep asking her questions and need her help. It feels like the authority is making its way back into its rightful place. She feels in control again. It feels good. 

Billy’s patients are a mess. He somehow forgets all order when presenting his patient’s case, rushing to the diagnosis before he even mentions what the patient is in the hospital for. 

They all seem flustered and tired. 

But by the third hour, even Rio’s patience is wearing thin. She gathers them in the hallway before they enter the next patient’s room, Agatha’s patient. 

“We are three months into this program and you are all acting like you’ve never stepped foot in the hospital. This is embarrassing,” she says loud enough that a few nurses look up. 

Alice drops her head. Billy purses his lips, glancing around to see who’s watching.

“To be fair, we’ve never done walking rounds before,” Agatha offers. 

“Did I ask for feedback?” Rio snaps. 

The group doesn’t respond but gives each other a few tense looks. Rio turns before they have a chance to think of something snarky to say and starts down the hospital hallway to the next room. 

“Are we being punished?” Billy whispers. “I mean…we are working through lunch.” 

Rio, walking just ahead, overhears and doesn’t bother turning around. “You are interns. I’m not legally obligated to give you a lunch.” 

Billy pushes on. “Is this because you slept through your pages on night shift? Because that’s totally not our fault so I don’t see why we are being punished for it.” 

Rio spins on her heel as they reach the next nurse’s station, coming face to face with Billy. “Who told you about that?” She asks against her better judgement because she already knows the answer. 

Around them a few residents linger, preparing for rounds. Nurses pass back and forth, in and out of patient’s rooms quickly. No one glances their way. 

Billy and Alice both silently point to Agatha. 

Rio’s eyes narrow. “Seriously?” She growls through gritted teeth. 

But Agatha doesn’t answer her. She isn’t even looking at Rio. 

Her eyes are fixed just past her. There is an ever so slight flicker of recognition across her face before her expression changes - eyes going wide, a slight flush blooming across her cheeks. 

Almost as soon as it comes on, a switch flips - she takes a breath and her face grows hard, jaw tightening. For anyone else, it looks like she noticed something in passing, the moment barely registering in her otherwise busy day. 

But Rio sees her more clearly. 

“Agatha?” What are you…” Rio turns to follow her gaze. 

And she sees it. 

There, tacked up to the bulletin board, smack in the middle of the nurses’ station: 

A pair of purple underwear. 

Agatha’s. 

A handwritten sign beneath it reads: 

Lost & Found - attendings’ call room.

For a second, no one moves. Rio’s mind goes blank, like her brain is refusing to process what she’s seeing. Then all at once, it spins. 

She tries to recall Agatha getting dressed. Tries to recall if she put her underwear on. 

Did Jen do this? 

Was it a joke? A warning? 

Does she ignore it? Pretend she has no idea? 

“No way,” Alice breathes beside her. 

“Oh. My. God.” Billy practically squeals. “Do you know who’s those are?” he whispers, leaning toward Rio like they share some secret.  

Agatha doesn’t move. She stands there, stoic, oozing fake indifference. 

Rio considers lying. 

Instead, something inside her snaps. She isn’t sure what fuels it but she takes a sharp inhale, her breath catching slightly in her chest. She does it again, this time more controlled, focused. 

Then she marches over to the bulletin board, extracts the pins and shoves the underwear in her scrubs pocket. 

“What is she doing?” Billy makes a confused face. “Are they hers?” 

No one answers. 

Rio turns, now calm as ever. “Let’s go,” she says sharply, walking again. “We have two patients left to see. Agatha, your three year old patient is next.” 

She glances over her shoulder to find all three interns staring. Alice looks vaguely bewildered, like she’s waiting for someone to explain the joke. Billy has a small grin on his face, either he’s impressed or way too entertained by the chaos. Agatha has her arms crossed, chin slightly lifted to give herself the look of cool detachment.  

The nurses have paused mid-work, fingers frozen over keyboards, medications in hand as they watch it all unfold. 

“I said let’s go!” She shouts. The nurses scramble to avert their eyes, scattering from the nurses’ station. Her interns break into a light jog to catch up.  

They walk in silence into the pediatric wing and into the next patient room. 

—

This time, Rio doesn’t introduce herself or the team. She just glares at Agatha, eyes narrow, then offers a curt nod to go on.

“Umm, this is Chris. He’s three. Here for bilateral 2nd and 3rd degree hand burns and…”

“You need to introduce yourself,” Rio interrupts, her voice tense. 

Agatha doesn’t look at her. “Right. Yeah. I’m Dr. Harkness. This is Dr. Vidal, the attending,” she offers a pursed lip smile toward Rio. “We will be your hospital team during Chris’s stay.”

The young boy in the bed is too absorbed in playing with a plastic dinosaur clutched in his bandaged hands to look up. Agatha turns to the parents instead. 

“It’s my understanding that Chris was burned on the stove.”

The father offers a small nod. 

“I only looked away for just a second,” the mother says quickly. “I had to answer the door and then I heard him scream. He must have grabbed the pot.” 

Rio can see the change in Agatha’s face as the mother talks. Her eyes start narrowing, nostrils flaring. 

“He’s three! He can’t be left alone for any period of time,” Agatha bites at her suddenly. 

“Dr. Harkness…” Rio warns. Agatha seems to back down, taking a step back. 

But the mother forges on. “Are you a mother?” She asks. Then as Agatha shakes her head, she scoffs a bit “then you don’t know.” 

Agatha’s face flushes instantly, the red creeping along her chest. She opens her mouth to respond but before a single word escapes, Rio gives her a dirty look - a warning. 

Agatha snaps her mouth shut. 

For a beat, she just stands there, shoulders rigid, something bitter flickering in her eyes. Then she exhales slowly, her shoulders dropping a bit as she does, willing herself to calm. 

“The severity of his burns means he’ll require extensive debridement while in the hospital. We still haven’t ruled out the possibility of surgery. Regardless, once discharged, he will still require months of physical therapy.” 

“Are you sure?” The mother interjects, already pulling out her phone. “Because I’ve been reading in online groups about honey and coconut oil…”

Something in Agatha fractures then. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“AGATHA!” Rio snaps at her, voice sharp. 

But Agatha doesn’t stop. Her eyes are locked on the mother, voice growing more anger with every word.

“Your child is in the hospital with serious burns because he was left unsupervised, next to a hot stove. And now your solution is condiments? You want to gamble his recovery on some mommy blog instead of evidence based medical care?” 

This time, Rio doesn’t just warn her - she moves. She walks toward Agatha and places a firm hand on her shoulder, unmistakably ushering her away. 

But the boy’s father is already on his feet, face flushed and shaking with anger. 

“Step out of the room, Agatha,” Rio says sternly. She steps in front of her - but not to remove her, to shield her. 

“You can’t talk to us like that!” he snaps back. “I want the patient advocate in here! I want the CEO of this hospital!” 

Agatha steps sideways to peer around Rio and barks out a laugh - high, bitter and borderline unhinged. 

“I promise you, she doesn’t give a shit!” She spits, eyes wild with furry. 

“Enough,” Rio whips her head toward Agatha, her voice coming in low and commanding. Her hand moves from Agatha’s shoulder to her wrist, wrapping around it and tugging. A signal. A finality. You’re done. 

Agatha doesn’t pull away from her hand, but turns toward the door, skin still buzzing with rage. 

Alice looks down at her shoes as she walks, avoiding eye contact. Billy shifts uncomfortably, shuffling his hands from his coat to scrub pockets several times. 

No one speaks as they walk toward the door. 

Just before they step through the threshold, a booming voice comes from behind them again. 

“And we want new doctors!” the father demands. “None of this intern shit.” 

Rio stops in the doorway, glancing back, her expression unreadable. 

“Gladly,” Rio says sarcastically. Her smile is thin, full of teeth and zero warmth. “And for what it’s worth?  She was right.”

Then she yanks the door shut behind them with a slam. 

— 

Even with the door closed behind them, Rio doesn’t let go. She keeps a firm grip on Agatha’s wrist as they march down the hallway in silence. She yanks Agatha’s arm forward to match her strides, urging her to keep up. 

Alice and Billy scatter behind them like smoke, running to avoid the fight. 

“Get in here now!” Rio wrenches the door open to an empty dictation room - an old closet that barely fits two computers along a narrow countertop. 

The door clicks shut. Then silence. Thick and electric. 

Rio finally turns to face Agatha, fury simmering just below the surface. 

“What the fuck was that?” She hisses. 

Agatha’s breathing quickens as she clenches her fists at her sides. “I was advocating for my patient.” 

Rio scoffs back. “That wasn’t advocacy! That was a meltdown. You don’t get to humiliate a hurt mother because you are mad at me.” 

Agatha flinches. “I’m not -“

“Bullshit.” Rio claps back, her voice rising. “And if you want to spiral, do it on your own time.”

Rio starts pacing, hands twitching like she wants to hit something - or grab something. 

“This is why getting involved with an intern is a terrible idea,” Rio mutters, more to herself than to Agatha. “The immaturity, the lack of boundaries…” 

“Fuck you,” Agatha spits. “That had nothing to do with my patient.”

“Oh please,” Rio fires back. “You were seething. That wasn’t about medicine. That was about me. You’re mad at me for avoiding you this morning. Then I grabbed your underwear off the bulletin board and it sent you over the edge. Just admit it.” 

Agatha steps closer, defiant. “Oh so you are so above it all because you took them down? You could have just ignored them, you know?” 

Rio’s eyes narrow. “Did you leave your underwear in the call room on purpose?”

“Yes.”

A beat passes.

“No.” 

Another pause. Then a smirk. 

“Maybe.” She laughs now, low and mean. “Hey you want straight answers, ask a straight lady.”

Rio takes a step forward, now invading Agatha's space. “You are infuriating, you know that, right?”

Agatha doesn’t move. “And you’re not?”

“Absolutely not.” 

“Oh you are,” Agatha breathes, her voice dropping. “You walk around like you are God’s gift to medicine, untouchable. Like nothing ever gets to you.” 

Rio’s eyes, locked onto Agatha, drop down to her mouth. “You think this doesn’t get to me?”

“Oh sweetheart, I know it does.” 

Rio pushes Agatha back against the counter, crashing her mouth into hers. It’s rough and angry and Agatha’s hands are already in Rio’s hair, pulling her closer as she moans. 

Rio grabs onto the collar of Agatha’s white coat, attempting to yank it down away from her shoulder. Her mouth is on her neck in the next breath, biting into the flesh then sucking. 

“Don’t you leave a mark,” Agatha growls. 

“Might be too late,” Rio murmurs against her skin. 

Agatha arches into her, her eyes fluttering shut. Her hands slide under Rio’s scrubs, scratching hard along the bare skin. “God, you’re so -“ she gasps, her breath hitching as Rio bites just below her jaw. “mean when you are angry.” 

“You like it,” Rio rasps. Her hands move to Agatha’s waist, gripping hard and dragging her onto her thigh. 

Agatha whimpers as Rio shoves her thigh upward, pressing it firmly beneath her legs. Her fingernails dig into the skin of Rio’s back. “I hate you.” 

“Liar.” 

“Give me back my underwear.”

“No. I’m keeping them.” 

Rio fists the back of Agatha’s coat and drags her harder against her thigh, rocking her in place, forcing friction. 

Agatha lets out a muffled gasp as her fingers fly to Rio’s shoulders. They dig in as she attempts to steady herself. 

“Don’t stop,” she pants, her voice starting to fall apart as her hips stutter against Rio’s thigh. 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Rio’s mouth is on her neck  now, kissing and sucking a path along her skin. 

Agatha’s hand roams under Rio’s top again, fingers finding her breast. She palms it roughly, then slips under her bra, pinching at the nipple. She’s rewarded with Rio’s deep groan against her neck, Rio’s hips jerking forward. 

Agatha whimpers again as Rio tightens her grip on her hips, dragging her across her thigh again and again. Her hips grind down against the thick muscle of Rio’s thigh. The friction is dizzying and maddening - the pressure keeps teetering on the edge, but not enough to push her over. 

Frustrated, Agatha grips the counter behind her, using it to lift herself up slightly, changing the angle on Rio’s thigh. 

Sensing her urgency, Rio pulls at the tie of her scrub pants, slipping her hand inside wordlessly. With no hesitation, Rio sinks two fingers into her, her wet, hot heat accepting her easily. 

Agatha starts to cry out, but Rio cuts her off with a kiss, swallowing the moan with her tongue. Agatha whimpers into Rio’s mouth, her hips jerking into Rio’s palm. 

Outside the doorway, footsteps echo in the hallway as a conversation comes closer. 

They both freeze - Rio’s fingers buried to the hilt inside her. Rio drops her forehead onto Agatha’s, pinching her eyes shut, waiting for the click of the door opening. 

“Fuck,” Agatha whispers, “did you lock the door?”

“It doesn’t lock.” Rio offers casually. Her fingers flex inside Agatha now, curling toward that spongy spot. “Be quick,” she says with another thrust. “And quiet.” 

The footsteps begin to fade outside the door. 

Agatha seizes the opportunity and braces her hands on the counter again, then uses it to push herself up - lifting and dropping her hips to ride Rio’s fingers. 

Again. And again. 

“God,” Rio feels Agatha’s cunt clench against her as she watches Agatha ride her fingers. “Use me just like that.”

Agatha’s movements become faster, more frantic. Her breath is shallowing, coming in bursts against Rio’s cheek as she builds toward the edge. The angle is perfect now, every bounce slamming her back down into the curl of Rio’s fingers. Slick. Tight. 

Rio groans as she watches Agatha move wildly against her. Every drag of her pelvis becomes messier, less controlled as she rides Rio’s fingers. 

Taking what she needs. Her ponytail is loosening, hair curling at the edges where sweat dots her brow. 

Agatha looks down between them, staring at the spot where Rio’s fingers disappear into her pants. 

“This should be your strap,” she half-whispers, half-moans. 

“Then come over tonight,” Rio blurts out without thinking.

Agatha doesn’t answer. She just clenches around her fingers, a high-pitched whine catching in her throat. 

“I’m not going to last,” she breathes against Rio’s cheek.

“Come for me.” 

Agatha buries her head in Rio’s shoulder to keep from crying out. Her body starts to tremble, hips jerking as she bounces harder and faster. The pressure is unbearable. 

When Rio’s fingers are buried completely into her, she grinds once, twice onto Rio’s thigh and palm to send her over the edge. At the same time, Rio curls hard into her front walls. 

The sound of a sharp, gasping cry gets buried into Rio’s shoulder as she comes; sinking her teeth into the flesh to muffle the sound. Rio hisses at the sensation. Agatha’s body arches into her, locking down in her hand as she pulses against Rio’s fingers. 

Then Agatha collapses forward, forehead resting against Rio’s collarbone. Her skin is flushed and trembling as she tries to catch her breath.

Agatha finally leans back, wincing as Rio withdraws her fingers. They are damp and sticky as Agatha catches Rio’s wrist. 

Before she can lift them to her mouth, Rio scolds her, “Don’t start again.”

“You can’t resist me, can you?” Agatha drops her hand, reaching instead to fix her ponytail. 

Rio grabs a tissue from the counter, wiping her hands clean. “We have to get back.”

Agatha adjusts her waistband, smooths down her coat and quickly wipes residual mascara from under her eyes. She resets herself like flipping a switch. 

“I’m aware,” she replies, voice light. She starts to walk toward the door calmly. Just before she turns the knob, she asks, “So what’s the story this time? I was being punished for my little antics back there?” She winks at Rio.

“You were being really reckless, Agatha,” Rio’s voice turns serious. 

Agatha’s lips curl into a smile as her eyes flick to Rio’s swollen lips. “Funny, so were you.” 

And then she turns down the hallway, like nothing happened. 

—

Rio gathers the team again that evening, running over their list before departing for the night. She tries to keep her tone even and clinical.

In fact, all day Rio kept her distance, finding any excuse to duck into an empty work room or any open computer she could find away from people. 

Because she doesn’t trust herself right now. Not around Agatha. Everytime she tells herself she won’t slip up again, she ends up with her fingers buried inside of her. 

“Dr. Vidal?” Billy asks, cutting through her thoughts. “If that’s all, can we go?”

“Yes, yes,” Rio brushes them away. “Good work today. See you all Monday.” 

The interns begin to gather their belongings and one by one they make their way out the door. 

Rio stays behind, lingering over a few last minute charts and checking up on Agatha’s pediatric patient. Apparently the parents are very happy with the switch to Dr. Kale. Figures. 

By the time she makes her way out of the conference room, the hallway is nearly empty.

Except for Agatha, waiting by the staff elevators, her bag slung over her shoulder. 

“Finally,” Agatha exhales. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” 

Rio scuffs. Because in a way she was, but not for the reasons Agatha probably thinks. 

“I had a few items to finish up before heading out,” Rio says, moving toward the exit. Agatha falls in sync with her. 

They walk in silence until they reach the glass doors. 

“Wait,” Rio pauses by the door. “Where are you going?” 

Agatha looks confused. “You asked me to come over,” Agatha says, hesitation growing in her voice. “Or was that not…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. It was probably the heat of the moment.” 

“I didn’t think you were going to. You never answered...” 

Agatha smirks. “I am now.”

Rio can’t help it, the magnetic pull is back, the itching desire to touch her seeping into her palms once more. She reaches up toward a stray hair, intend on brushing it behind Agatha’s ear - when they both hear the sharp click of heels down the hallway.

“Agatha.”

The sharp voice slices through the air, stopping them both in their tracks. Rio drops her hand. 

Rio turns her head to see Evanora, dressed in a well pressed suit, arms crossed, watching Agatha like a hawk. 

Agatha’s shoulders tense immediately as she takes a step back from Rio. 

“Mother.” 

Evanora’s eye flick briefly to Rio, eyes narrowing at her then returning to Agatha. “Why aren’t you home yet?”

“I had to work late,” Agatha offers sheepishly. 

“You’re her attending.” It isn’t a question. “Shouldn’t you be making her more efficient or do I need to appoint someone else to oversee her education?”

“Not at all,” Rio says through gritted teeth. “In fact, Agatha and I were just going to study for her upcoming boards. I’m tutoring her.” 

“She can study on her own. And it’s late.”

Agatha’s fingers tighten on the strap of her shoulder bag, knuckles whitening. 

Agatha gives a small, sheepish nod. “Another time,” she says to Rio, not quite meeting her eyes. 

Evanora arches an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t count on that.” She places her hand lightly on Agatha’s back, ushering her down the hallway. 

Agatha turns to walk with her mother without looking back. 

As they leave, Rio sees Evanora eyeing Agatha again, head tilting to examine her neck. 

“Dear lord, child. What is that on your neck?”

Agatha’s hand flies up to cover the mark.

“Just Ralph,” she lies. You know how he can be.”

“Well tell him to be more careful,” Evanora barks. “I can’t have you running around this hospital looking like some whore.” 

Rio feels sick.

Chapter Text

Rio is just about to fall asleep when her phone buzzes. 

Agatha: Can I come over? Pleez 

Rio blinks at the message, the screen feels too bright for how late it is. 

It’s past midnight. A Sunday night. They both have work tomorrow. 

This is clearly a booty call.

And Rio knows she should say no.

She rolls over in bed and thumbs out a reply.

I’ll send you a pin with my address. 

Twenty minutes later there is a soft knock on her door. Rio opens it to find Agatha standing there in a hoodie and running shorts, hair tied up, no make up. She leans slightly off-kilter in the doorway, one hand braced on the frame. 

“Hey you,” Agatha says, her words slightly slurred. “I missed you.” She leans in, lips pursed for a kiss but nearly misses, stumbling forward. Rio catches her. 

“God, are you drunk?” Rio asks. “You smell like a bar.”

“Just,” A hiccup. “A little.”

Rio steadies her, fingers gripping her waist. 

“A little?” Rio scoffs. “You were seconds away from passing out on my porch.”

Agatha giggles, her fingers fisting weakly in the front of Rio’s sleep shirt. Rio hauls her inside before her neighbors get a show. She kicks the front door closed with her foot, catching Agatha under her arm as the intern nearly goes down. 

“Ok, ok.” Rio guides her toward the couch. “Sit down before you crack your head open.” 

“So this is your place, huh?” Agatha immediately stands back up, staggering around the room. Rio trails behind her, grabbing a glass of water and Advil in the process. She hands it to her wordlessly. 

“Agatha,” Rio’s voice sharpens. “What are you doing drunk on a Sunday night? We have work in the morning.” She hands her the medicine and Agatha swallows it wordlessly as she takes a big gulp of water. She walks (well stumbles) into the living room, eyes browsing through the books Rio has stacked on a small shelf. 

She stops in front of a window, fingers fiddling with the blinds. “Fight with my mom,” she admits finally, face falling. 

“Oh,” Rio softens, starting to walk closer to where Agatha stands with her back to her. “I’m sorry.” 

“She wanted me to finalize the guest list for the wedding.” 

Rio stops walking, her stomach sinks.

“And did you?” Rio asks before she can stop herself. She tells herself she’s being supportive, a sounding board - not prying. 

“Ha! Like I get a say in anything,” Agatha laughs dryly, pushing herself backward from the window. She wanders again until she stops at the doorway to Rio’s bedroom, hand poised on the handle. “Is this your room?”

Rio realizes that’s the end of that conversation. 

“It is,” she replies but Agatha is already pushing the door open and stepping inside like she owns the place. She kicks off her shoes, leaving them sprawled across the floor. Rio steps over them to follow her.

“Looks comfy,” she says before flopping down on the sage green quilt. She sprawls across the bed like a starfish, staring up at the ceiling. “Hmm and it is,” her voice sounds softer now and Rio wonders if she’s starting to fall asleep. 

Rio walks toward the bed, pausing at the edge to see if Agatha is closing her eyes. Instead, she smirks up at Rio through her eyelashes. 

“Wanna feel?” She purrs. 

Rio crosses her arms. “I’m not taking that invitation.” 

Agatha rolls to her side, propping her head up with her hand. “To what?”

“Whatever it is you think you are doing.”

“I’m not doing anything,” she says sweetly before crawling up toward the pillow, pulling the quilt down and climbing inside. “I like your sheets. Very…soft.”

Rio exhales slowly, her patience growing thin. “You’re drunk.”

Agatha bites her lip, sitting up in bed. “Only a little.” 

“Lay down Agatha. I’m not touching your while you are in this state. We’re just going to sleep,” Rio climbs in next to her, keeping her distance. 

Rio reaches to turn out the light, muttering “if you touch me tonight, I’m kicking you out.” 

“You wouldn’t!” Agatha gasps in fake exacerbation in the dark. “What about accidentally? Like in my sleep?” 

Rio shakes her head but doesn’t respond before turning to her side, away from Agatha. 

After a few seconds of silence, Agatha murmurs, “Thanks for letting me crash here.” 

“Sleep.”

“I like your house.”

“Agatha.” 

“I missed you.” 

Rio closes her eyes and sighs. “Go to sleep.”

Agatha hums, but doesn’t press. A few quiet seconds pass, then almost inaudibly, “…you smell really good.”

Rio groans into her pillow. “Stop talking.” 

“I’m just saying.” Agatha shifts under the blanket. “How come you don’t smell like this at the hospital?”

“I don’t wear perfume at the hospital. Patients can be sensitive to it,” she explains. “Now sleep.”

“Fine,” Agatha sighs and turns over, curling her back to Rio. “This is nice.”

“For the love of God!” 

“Who knew you were so grumpy when you’re tired,” Agatha practically laughs. 

“I’m this close to giving you a sleeping pill,” Rio holds up her fingers in the dark. 

She hears Agatha huff before she finally nestles deeper into the covers. Rio can feel the warmth beside her, just inches away. Close but not touching. 

Minutes slowly tick by while Rio stares at the ceiling, the silence stretching between them. Eventually, Agatha’s breathing evens out, her body relaxing into sleep. 

— 

Rio wakes up to the sound of her shower running.

The spot beside her is empty, sheets still warm. The bathroom door is cracked open. She rises from the bed, making her way to the open door. She pushes it open slowly, peeking inside. 

Agatha stands under the stream of hot water with her eyes closed, head tilted back. 

“You can come all the way in, you know,” Agatha says without looking. “It’s your bathroom after all.”

Rio steps all the way into the bathroom, the door clicking behind her. The room is thick with steam, blurring the edges of Agatha’s silhouette against the glass. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Agatha says from behind the cloud of steam. 

“You didn’t,” Rio lies. “I just…heard the water.”

Agatha cracks the door open and sticks her head out. Wet strands of hair cling to her cheeks. “And you came to check on me? That’s sweet.”

Rio leans against the sink. “You really made yourself at home.” 

“I figured I better rinse off the bar,” Agatha laughs, retreating back to the warmth of the water. “I didn’t want to go into rounds smelling like tequila.” 

Rio scrunches her nose, “Why aren’t you more hung over?”

“You gave me Advil and water,” Agatha shrugs. “And I’m 25.”

“How could I forget?” She chuckles. 

Rio’s eyes trace the fogged outline of her body, the curve of her shoulders and ass through the glass, the water sliding down her back. 

She swallows hard and bites her lip, pushing herself off the bathroom counter. 

“You going to join me?” Agatha asks as Rio stalks toward her.

Rio doesn’t answer, she just strips off her shirt, stepping out of her underwear as Agatha opens the glass door all the way, making room. 

As she steps in, Agatha’s eyes slide down her body. “Hi,” she smiles, her voice softer. 

“Hi yourself,” Rio’s eyes drift down Agatha’s glistening skin, water sliding down her collarbones, the valley beneath her breasts. “Can I help clean that tequila off?” 

Agatha nods as Rio grabs a bar of soap, lathering it up in her hands. She starts with Agatha’s shoulders, her touch slow and methodical. 

She smoothes the suds along her collarbone, behind her neck. She pauses at the fading hickey along her neck, the one she blamed on Ralph. She presses a finger into the bruise, eliciting a sharp hiss from Agatha. 

“Turn around,” Rio commands. 

Agatha obeys, her hands braced against the wall in front of her. Rio’s palms slide down the line of her spine, tracing along her back, until her arm wraps around her waist. She leans in, her chest pressing along Agatha’s back, lips brushing against her ear. “All clean,” she whispers. 

Rio reaches forward, rinsing her hands briefly under the warm stream of water. She returns to skim her fingertips along Agatha’s stomach, starting to drift lower. 

“Uh uh,” Agatha’s hand comes up to stop her, fingers wrapping gently around her wrist. Rio freezes, thinking she did something wrong. 

“I want to taste you,” Agatha admits. 

Rio’s knees nearly buckle. 

She wastes no time dropping to her knees on the floor of the tile shower. Her hair clings to her shoulders, water from the shower head cascading down her back. Her hands smooth across the back of Rio’s thighs, guiding her forward toward her mouth. 

Rio braces her palms against the cool tile of the wall in front of her. She closes her eyes, letting the hum of the water and the hot steam envelope her as she waits for Agatha’s touch. 

Instead, she feels the ghost of Agatha’s breath on her thigh. Her fingers flex against the back of Rio’s thighs, kneading the flesh there. 

Rio lets her head drop forward against her forearm. The ache starts to coil low in her stomach as Agatha kisses along her thighs. Her mouth makes her way to the patch of curls at the junction of her thigh, where she takes a long inhale before swiping, softly, along her slit. 

Rio tries to resist thrusting her hips forward into her tongue. She groans as Agatha slowly parts her with one hand, her tongue dipping into her entrance before she flattens it along the entire length of her. 

“I want…” Rio chokes out, the words coming out breathy and low. 

Agatha stops, pulling back to look at her face. “You can say it,” she encourages.

“Your nose.”

“My nose?” Agatha’s brows lift. She brings two fingers to the bridge, tracing along the slight bump. “I always hated it.”

“Oh God. No,” Rio’s voice is more firm now, courage building. She shakes her head, water droplets falling from her face. “Don’t ever change it. It’s so…hot.” 

Rio’s hand slips lower, fingertips replacing Agatha’s on the slope of her nose, lingering at the rise. “I want to ride it.”

For a second, there is only the sound of water hitting tile. Then Rio swears she hears it - Agatha’s breath catching, quiet but sharp.

She looks down at Agatha to see her raise her chin and scoot closer. Giving herself over. 

Rio places her hand on Agatha’s cheek, feeling her lean into the touch slightly. For a moment, it feels soft, too intimate - like a small threshold being stepped over. The emotion is there, just under the surface. Rio feels it tugging in her chest, threatening to burst free. But she quickly moves her hand to Agatha’s hair, brushing the wet strands back from her face like she’s brushing away whatever the fuck that was that she just felt. 

She takes to sinking down slowly, closing the distance between them. Her thighs part, knees bending to shift the weight of the body forward. 

When she settles, the small bump along the ridge of Agatha’s nose finds her clit. She can feel Agatha’s eyes flutter closed beneath her. 

Her hips roll once - testing - the pressure too perfect.  

She hovers there for a second, torn between the shocking pleasure coursing through her and the heady awareness of how desperate she feels. Her fingers thread through Agatha’s hair - not pulling, not guiding - just as an anchor. 

Agatha’s nails dig into her thighs, the biting sensation makes Rio hesitate. She thinks about pulling back, worried she’s uncomfortable beneath her. But Agatha doesn’t flinch; she nudges her forward, encouraging her on. 

Rio slowly starts to grind onto her as Agatha opens her mouth, dipping her tongue into her with every roll. 

“Fuck,” Rio growls, her hips finding a rhythm now. “Right there.” 

Agatha hums against her as if she is agreeing, her tongue continuing to lap at her.

Each slow drag of Rio’s hips grinds her clit against the small bump, the pleasure building. 

Rio drops her head forward, the water hitting her upper back now and cascading down. It drops between them, hitting Agatha’s cheeks and hair. She doesn’t swipe it away, but stays focused, eyes closed against Rio’s thighs. 

Rio’s sharp gasps break into something more guttural as her thighs start trembling - a mix of heat pooling low and the burning sensation of her bent position above Agatha. 

Agatha pushes her nose higher, her nails digging deeper into Rio’s thighs. She’s not just holding her there anymore, she’s holding her like she wants to own her. Possessive. 

“Shit…” Rio pants, “shit.” The words tumbling out between shuddering breaths.

Every grind drags her closer, the air between them stretching tight, humming with heat. Her legs shaking with the effort to stay grounded.

Her fingers curl harder in Agatha’s hair, her head tipping forward until it rests against the shower wall, as if she can’t quite hold herself upright anymore. Each roll of her hips gets slower, deeper - chasing a slow building wave. 

Agatha’s breath warms her, every exhale deliberate. She flicks her tongue through her folds, drops her tongue inside of her. Rio can feel her arousal even through the wet of the shower, dripping down onto Agatha’s chin, running down her own legs. 

The tension winds higher, the pressure has nowhere left to go but spill over. She doesn’t want to come yet and tries to hold back - breathing hard through her nose, her jaw clenched - trying to prolong her pleasure.

Agatha shifts just slightly, the angle perfect, the pressure becoming unbearable in the best way.

“Ohhh god…” Rio’s voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper, breaking apart between syllables. Her hips rock long and slow as she tips over the edge. Not in a crash but in a slow, molten spill that takes her whole body with it. 

She lets out a shaky moan as she melts, her thighs crushing into Agatha’s face until she wonders if she’s struggling to breathe. The waves roll through her until she’s wrung out and trembling.

Finally she slows her breathing, straightening her knees now on shaky legs. The water has turned colder, sending her shivering in the wake of her orgasm. Her fingers release from Agatha’s hair and she steps back, offering a hand for Agatha to stand. 

Agatha takes it, their palms fitting together. Neither let’s go right away. Agatha glances down, catching the slow drag of Rio’s thumb over her skin.

Rio suddenly feels too exposed, too vulnerable like this. “Uh…” Rio clears her throat, straightening, as she pulls her hand away, dropping it to her side. “That was nice.”

“Nice?” Agatha questions softly, the word carrying more curiosity than teasing. 

Rio drops her gaze. “What am I supposed to say?” She reaches for the soap, moving to scrub away the last remnants of her arousal. “I’m glad you ended up being my intern…” She stops short, the words suddenly feeling more intimate than she intended them to be. 

Agatha picks up on it too. Her breathing quickens a bit at her words. She pauses, eyes lingering on her. “Me too,” she says at last, voice quiet but certain. 

Rio’s lip curve, slow and small. 

As they step out of the shower together, Rio hands her a fresh towel from a cabinet to dry off. 

Rio runs a comb through her hair, then ties it into a low bun at the nape of her neck. 

When she’s done, Agatha takes the comb without asking, drawing it through her damp hair. She then reaches for Rio’s lotion, rubbing it over her legs. The motions feel comfortable and domestic in a way that feels like the edge of something dangerous. 

Then Rio picks up her phone and the spell breaks. The clock shatters the moment as they are both running late for work. 

Rio rushes into her bedroom, opting for her own scrubs today. 

Agatha follows, pausing in the doorway, wrapped in a towel. 

“Can I borrow some clothes?” She asks.

“No,” Rio says, tossing her the hoodie and shorts she wore the night before. “Wear these until you can grab scrubs at the hospital. It’s too risky for you to show up wearing something of mine.” 

“Fine,” she pulls on her shorts. “But honestly, how many people would recognize your street clothes?” 

Rio steps closer as Agatha pulls the sweatshirt over her head. The mood shifts, feeling suddenly more serious. 

“Hey,” she says softly, “I’m just trying to protect our jobs, that’s all.” 

Agatha’s eyes drop, like she feels guilty for not thinking of that. She lifts her index finger to her mouth, biting at the nail. 

Rio stands directly in front of her, just watching, the guilt seeming to come in waves. After a few seconds, she gently reaches up, pulling the finger from her mouth to thread their hands together. 

Agatha blinks too quickly. “I know,” she says breezily, “it’s totally fine.” But it sounds hollow. She jumps up to her tiptoes, trying to change the mood and kisses her quickly, lips barely brushing. 

But Rio catches her before she can pull away, cupping her face and kissing her deeper. It’s meant to be soft and quick, but when Agatha’s tongue brushes along her lips, Rio feels herself being pulled under. She tilts her head, her hands starting to push up the hem of Agatha’s sweatshirt. As her hands start to drift higher, aimed for her bra, she stops herself. 

Agatha groans lightly as Rio pulls herself away. 

“And no more of that!” Rio calls, walking out of the bedroom toward the kitchen. 

Rio grabs two travel mugs, pouring hot coffee into both of them and hands one to Agatha. 

“Did you drive here?” Rio asks as they make their way out the front door. 

“I took an Uber. So I guess you are driving me to work.” 

“I’ll park far away.”

“Of course you will,” Agatha says, sliding into the passenger’s seat. “What’s the worst that could happen though? You get a slap on the wrist?”

“No.” Rio warns as she starts to drive away from her house. “You get a slap on the wrist,” Rio’s tone grows more tense. “I get fired for sleeping with the CEO’s daughter, my intern, my engaged intern. And I get blacklisted for every teaching hospital. I still owe 300 grand in student loans, Agatha.” 

Agatha winces. She looks down at her coffee cup lid, fingers tightening around the mug. “Oh. I didn’t know.” 

“I once watched a neurosurgeon get physically escorted out by security. Mid-surgery.” 

“I get it,” Agatha says, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“I’m just saying.”

“I said I get it,” Agatha cuts in, her eyes still down. “Please drop it.”

They spend the remainder of the car ride in silence. 

—

They don’t make it two steps inside the hospital before spotting Evanora perched at the security desk, her toe tapping impatiently against the floor. The security guard behind the desk looks miserable. 

“Agatha. Where were you last night?” She snaps, not even bothering with a greeting. 

“I stayed with a friend,” Agatha replies carefully. 

Evanora’s lips press into a thin, disapproving line. “Which friend?”

“You don’t know her,” Rio hears Agatha lie as she slowly starts to slip away, inching down the hallway in attempts to avoid Evanora’s wrath. 

“I really have to get to work,” Agatha says, but hesitates mid-step like she’s waiting for Evanora to dismiss her. 

With the flick of her wrist, Evanora waves Agatha off like she’s a gnat hovering too close. 

As Agatha starts down the hallway, Evanora calls out once more. 

“One more thing.”

Agatha freezes, turning slowly toward her. “Yes mother?”

“That mug you are holding,” Evanora says, a slow, cold smile forming as she tilts her head, “We gave them out as attending gifts last year.” She pauses. “I picked them out myself.” 

—

Rio should feel bad. She really should. Her careless slip up with the coffee cup nearly gave them away. 

She’d been far enough down the hallway to avoid Evanora’s anger, but not far enough to miss the end of their conversation. 

Agatha, bless her for being a great liar, told her mother she’d found the mug in the attending call room last week. Then, without missing a beat, she joked about using it to trick new nurses into thinking she’s an attending. 

Her mother seemed suspicious but didn’t press further. 

But the second Agatha catches up and they turn the corner into a long, empty hallway, she pushes Rio up against the wall, kissing her hard. Her breath catches as Agatha’s lips claim hers without hesitation. The guilt that was gripping her chest the moment they walked into the hospital starts to fade. 

“I thought I said no more of that,” Rio pulls away but starts peppering kisses along Agatha’s jawline, unable to stop herself. 

“Then make me stop,” Agatha tips her head back against the wall, bearing her neck. 

Rio doesn’t. She presses her lips along her pulse point, fingers toying with the hem of her shorts. 

It’s then she hears the sounds of Billy and Alice, a conversation drifting closer. 

“Sounds like I don’t have to,” Rio murmurs before peeling herself away. She slides out from under Agatha’s arms before clearing her throat and straightening her shirt.  

Agatha smirks, cheeks still flushed. “Have you been to the sixth floor?”

Rio furrows her brow. “There is no sixth floor of this hospital.” 

“Oh yes there is,” she has a mischievous look in her eye. 

“The elevator goes to five.” 

“Right,” Agatha says. “Then you take the stairwell to the sixth floor,” Agatha says, stepping backward toward the sound of her fellow interns. “I’ll meet you there at lunch,” she whispers before joining the other interns in the hallway. 

—

Rio’s not angry anymore, not like she used to be about her constantly slipping up, her toeing the line of getting caught with Agatha. 

Part of her still knows it’s a dangerous game. A game that could ruin everything she built.

Reckless. Completely reckless. 

And yet…it’s fun. 

More than fun. It’s magnetic. 

She actually wants to go to work now - because she wants to see Agatha. To hear her constant quips, her quick comebacks. 

Then there is the other side of it. The private side, just for her.

She wants to hear Agatha’s moans as she comes. Scoop up her arousal gathering in her underwear. Feel her tongue against her clit.  

It’s almost addicting, this pull, this desperate hope that every corner she turns, Agatha will be there - leaning against some counter, scrubs stretched too tight, long ponytail falling loose in an effortless way. 

She knows she’s getting bolder. Crossing lines she swore she wouldn’t. 

Can she run her hand across Agatha’s thigh during rounds?

How far can Agatha run her socked foot up Rio’s leg before her breath betrays her? 

How loud can Agatha moan on the sixth floor before someone hears? 

Some sane part of Rio screams to stop. This entire thing isn’t just reckless - it’s foolhardy. But the other part? The part that’s hooked, that’s desperate for more - that part refuses to listen. 

And maybe…just maybe, that’s what scares her the most. 

—

Rio rushes them through rounds. 

Forget bedside rounds, forget full presentations and long drawn out lectures about the intricacies of the renal system.

She has each intern run through a list of their patient’s diagnoses and treatment plans. No tangents. No questions unless someone is actively crashing. 

It’s blunt. But efficient. 

By the fourth patient, Alice leans over to Billy and whispers, “What’s her deal today?” 

“Yes, Dr. Vidal,” Agatha chimes in, sounding perfectly sweet, “Are we on a time crunch today?”

Rio knows Agatha what Agatha is expecting - a blush, a flustered excuse or maybe a nervous laugh.

Not today. 

She looks Agatha straight in the eye, expression completely neutral.

“I’m starving,” she draws out the last word. “Skipped breakfast.”

Agatha’s eyes widen as a blush creeps up her neck. 

Rio doesn’t let up. 

“Now let’s continue,” Rio looks back at her computer. “Before I get so hungry that I start punishing someone.”

Agatha lets out a small strangled noise in her throat. 

— 

“Put your pager and cell phone on the table,” Rio gestures to a dented tray table along the wall of the sixth floor.

The room is dim, filled with abandoned hospital beds, cracked monitors and dusty IV poles stacked around. The windows are boarded up so only streams of sunlight peek through the cracks. 

“Why?” Agatha asks. “Afraid I’m going to sneak pictures of you?”

“I’m not missing any pages this time,” Rio points out. “We are doing this right.”

Agatha snorts. “Right? Is there anything right about fucking your boss in the abandoned equipment wing of the hospital?” 

“Turn around,” Rio growls. 

“Excuse me?” Agatha raises an eyebrow at her. 

“You heard me,” Rio commands, “Shirt off. Then turn around. Hands on the bed.” 

“Rio…” Agatha warns, but her tone is light, testing.  Somewhere between resistance and surrender. “You think you can control me?”

“I do,” Rio growls, walking toward her like a predator ready to attack its prey. “You talk a big game but you want to shatter for me.” 

Agatha’s eyes widen, pupils blown. 

Rio stops, her voice softening. “You say the word, I stop,” Rio smiles at her. 

“Engaged.”

“That’s the safe word you pick?” Rio questions. “Do you always have to be such a smart ass?” 

Agatha raises an eyebrow at her, “Do you want to punish me for it?” She teases. 

“God yes,” Rio breathes, her eyes growing dark at the idea. 

Agatha strips off white coat, scrub top and bra, finding an abandoned hospital bed nearby to drop them on. She finds another bed, toward the middle of the room, and places both hands on the mattress, back arched. Her scrub covered ass jutted out, inviting. 

“Like this?” Agatha teases as she bends down, forearms on the bed. 

Rio walks over, surveying the sight. She trails one finger down Agatha’s spine, scratching lightly, watching the goosebumps bloom in the wake. 

“Perfect,” her mouth follows the trail of her finger, leaving wet kisses from her neck down to the small of Agatha’s back. 

When she reaches the base of the spine, Rio steps back, away from her. She turns toward the abandoned equipment and starts searching the room. 

Agatha turns her head, just enough to ask, “Where did you go?” 

“Patience….” Rio calls quietly, digging through dusty boxes nearby. She throws aside some old linens, a tangle of tubing until she finds exactly what she’s looking for - a pair of hospital restraints. 

The kind used for combative hospital patients. Padded and soft. 

Rio turns back, holding them back up. Agatha’s breath hitches.

Rio slowly approaches Agatha, eyes locked on her. “Will you be a good girl for me?” Rio purrs. 

Agatha lets out a soft whimper, “Yes.” 

Rio smirks. “So that’s what you like.”

Agatha bites her lower lip, a pink blush creeping across her cheeks. 

Rio steps behind her, looping the restraints gently around each wrist and securing them to the metal railings on the side of the bed. It leaves Agatha bent over, arms outstretched. 

Agatha shifts once, testing the limits. 

Rio steps back for a moment, admiring the sight. “Oh, sweetheart,” Rio says, kneeling behind her, fingers brushing over the waistband of Agatha’s scrubs. “I’m just getting started.”

Rio peels them down slowly, exposing the curve of her ass. Her underwear follows, a slick strand of arousal clinging to the gusset until the damp material pools at her feet.

“You look so good like this,” she says, voice low and reverent. “Tied up. Open. Waiting.”

Agatha’s thighs tremble. 

Rio comes to stand behind Agatha, her hands sliding along the smooth skin of her thighs. Her fingers brush lightly over her cunt, never pressing, just grazing over the skin. 

Agatha whines, high pitched and desperate. 

“You want this, don’t you?” 

Agatha says nothing, her head dropping forward onto the mattress. 

“Answer me,” Rio barks. 

Agatha turns her head slightly, cheek pressing into the mattress “Or what?” She smirks.   

The sound of the first spank echos against the abandoned concrete walls. 

Agatha jolts, a howl tearing from her throat before she can catch it. A red handprint blooms across her ass. Rio rubs the red mark with her hand, soothing the warm skin. 

Agatha breathes hard into the mattress, hands tugging at the restraints instinctively. But she doesn’t pull away.

“You’re shaking,” Rio murmurs, bending down to kiss the curve of her spine. “Still being so brave.” 

Agatha exhales, voice shaky but sure. “You want to be in control.” 

Rio’s smiles against her skin.

“And I want to see you lose it,” she breathes, stepping back to admire her. Agatha’s ass is flushed and vulnerable, thighs spread and glistening with arousal. “You were wet before I even touched you.”

She pauses a second, but Agatha doesn’t answer. Rio continues, “Were you thinking about fucking me during rounds?” 

Agatha hums in response, her body twitching in anticipation.

“I asked you a question.”

Then she lands the second slap, just slightly harder than the first - less punishment, more possession. Agatha moans, the sound needy, broken at the edges.

“Yes,” Agatha gasps. “I’ve been wet since rounds.” 

“That’s my girl,” Rio praises, her voice a warm thread wrapping around every bruise. “You’re perfect like this.” 

She caresses the heat blooming across Agatha’s ass, then leans down, pressing a kiss to one cheek. 

She slides a hand between Agatha’s thighs, cupping her heat, feeling the slick proof of her arousal. Agatha’s hips jerk, a desperate little sound escaping her lips.

“So needy,” Rio croons. “So messy for me.”

She removes her hand slowly and licks her fingers clean, tasting Agatha on her tongue. 

Agatha groans, trying to press backward toward Rio, but Rio only ghosts over her cunt, barely gazing over her clit. 

Agatha shivers, arching into the touch again. She bites her lip in an effort to prevent from crying out. 

“What do you want, Agatha?” Rio’s voice is low in her ear, her fingers still teasing along her entrance. 

“What do you want?” Agatha challenges again. 

“Beg for me,” Rio whispers. 

Agatha’s head snaps toward Rio, her eyes dark and hungry. “No,” she tests.

Rio lands a third spank, the edges of her fingers slapping along Agatha’s glistening folds.  

“Dammit, fine! You.” Agatha growls. 

Rio challenges her back by pushing in one finger, just to the first knuckle. “I know you can’t hold out much longer before you are desperate for it.” 

She removes her finger and much to her delight, elicits a whimper from Agatha. 

“See?” Rio pushes the tip of her finger in her again, before slowly withdrawing. 

“Fuck you,” Agatha says through gritted teeth. “Okay, please.” 

“God, you make me lose my mind,” Rio murmurs, her voice ragged with want. “Every time you talk back. Every time you look at me. I want to ruin you.” 

Agatha’s composure wanes then, the confession starting to break her. “Then do it.” 

Rio exhales sharply, the sound half a growl. Her middle and ring finger slide in with no warning - stretching, claiming her. Agatha’s cry echoes through the empty room before buries her head into her bicep to muffle the noise. 

“That’s it,” Rio murmurs, her body pressing into Agatha’s back on the bed, voice in her ear. “My desperate little intern.”

Agatha bucks backward against her as Rio pumps in and out, her body trembling against her fingers. She’s slick, hot heat, drenching Rio’s fingers, coming too close to the edge too fast. 

Rio pulls back a bit, making her whine. She gathers her slick along her fingers, brushing her clit just once as she does. 

“Can you take another pretty girl?”

Rio withdraws her fingers just slightly, teasing the entrance before pressing again, ready to add a third finger. Agatha’s wall clench, too tight, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

“God, Rio…I can’t.”

“Relax for me,” Rio purrs, her voice insistent. Agatha exhales long and shaky, surrendering just enough. 

 Taking her cue, Rio slides a third finger inside, more slowly this time. Her other hand snakes around Agatha’s waist to grind against her clit.  

Agatha shrieks, something high pitched and so unlike her. Rio feels herself growing wetter not just at the sound but at the sheer power of making Agatha fall apart. 

Rio thrusts inside her again as Agatha continues to shutter against her relentless pace, clenching around her fingers. Rio can see her cheeks flush, tears starting to brim in her eyes. 

The slick starts to slide down Rio’s hand to her wrist. 

“You want more?” Rio murmurs, kissing along her cheeks, tasting the salt as the tears brim over Agatha’s eyes. “You think you can handle it?”

Agatha nods, frantic with her lip biting between her teeth. “God yes.”

Rio drags her fingers free, leaving Agatha clenching around nothing, before pressing back in, this time with four fingers. The stretch causes her body to jolt, her hips jerking forward at the intrusion. 

“Fuck - Rio,” her voice breaks, her restrained hand clawing at the bed rails. “I’m going to…”

“Not yet,” Rio pants. 

“Let me come, dammit!” She practically yells, fighting to hang onto some shred of control. Tears cling hot at the corner of her eyes, refusing to fall. 

“You know, if you just let go, I could wreck you in the best way.” Her free hand kneads at the curve of Agatha’s ass, squeezing possessively. “Tell me, are you going to be this difficult when I bend you over with my strap?” 

“The…other…way…around.” Agatha huffs through shallow pants, trying to throw defiance into her words. “My strap,” she squeaks out. But her hips betray her, jerking and grinding against Rio’s hand, clenching, dripping for more. 

Rio grinds her own hips into Agatha’s ass, pushing her hand deeper, just before she curls her thumb inward. The stretch increases, obscene. She watches entire hand starting to disappear inside of the younger woman. “God, look at you, stretching for me. So full for me.”

Agatha is wrecked, a sheen of sweat clinging to her back. Her body trembles as heat coils in her belly, equal parts pleasure and pain. 

A feral smile cuts across Rio’s face. She leans into her more on until her front is pressed into Agatha’s back. The thumb of her left hand strokes at her clit again. 

Agatha shutters, the fight leaving her as she starts to splinter into fragments. Rio curls her fingers forward when she thrusts and watches as the tears Agatha fought spill down hot on her cheeks, dripping down to the sheets. 

Rio feels her tighten hard around her fingers, thighs squeezing. She swipes her thumb across Agatha’s clit again, and Agatha’s voice cracks, a strangled moan tearing free as her orgasm rips through her like it’s tearing her apart. 

The wet, desperate sounds of Agatha’s cunt clenching around her hand, paired with the guttural noise of her coming undone, are too much for Rio to bear. 

“You’re mine,” Rio chokes out as her own body starts to shuttering. Her hips thrust forward, grinding into Agatha’s ass, like she can get more contact. “Say it - say you’re mine,” Rio purrs, thighs trembling as a release overtakes her, untouched. 

Agatha quakes with her own aftershocks, collapsing forward as the orgasm subsides, her forehead dropping to the mattress. Her arms go limp along the bed railing she once gripped. Rio holds her close, hand buried deep until they both come down from their spiral. 

Slowly, Rio withdraws her hand from Agatha’s waist. She carefully slides her fingers out, leaning down to press a kiss along Agatha’s damp hairline, before undoing her restraints. 

Neither speaks. They just redress in silence, using a few old hospital towels to clean up before tossing them in the trash. 

They finally start climbing the stairs side by side back down to the fifth floor, where they can catch the elevator back to reality. Rio replays the last few moments in her head. Agatha holding onto control, only giving it over in the last seconds, on her own terms; finally shattering for her. 

And Rio, whispering a confession as she fell. 

They cross to the next floor, reaching the elevator as the doors open for them. As they step inside, a realization cuts through Rio’s haze - Agatha never returned the sentiment. 

Chapter Text

Rio stands at the edge of her bed, a small duffle bag open in front of her. She stuffs a few clothes in without bothering to fold them - bathing suit, jeans, t-shirts and pants and a shirt that could pass as formal. And her strap. 

She’s got a whole weekend away with Agatha. 

Well, technically, a weekend away with the entire internal medicine program, residents and attendings alike. 

The resident retreat. 

The annual retreat is meant to be about resident wellness and bonding, tucked away in a mountain hotel. The one time a year where everyone lets their hair down, on the hospital’s dime. 

Internally, it’s a shit show. Historically, it features obscene amounts of alcohol, the occasional cheating spouse and on a few instances of the destruction of property (although that resident swears a goose flew in and broke the window). The venue usually changes after they get blacklisted from the hotel every year. 

But Rio can’t stop circling back to the same thought - Uninterrupted time with Agatha, outside the walls of the hospital. Hours that won’t be stolen by pages, patients or Evanora’s watchful eye. 

Rio’s goal is to pull Agatha away as soon as possible and spend the entire night with her. 

As she makes her way into the bathroom, gathering her toiletries, her mind flickers back to their last time together. The way Agatha unraveled beneath her and yet, how she still couldn’t bring herself to say it outloud; couldn’t admit what was between them - not even at Rio’s prompting. 

Rio exhales sharply. It feels like handling a ticking time bomb. Every second with Agatha is laced with an edge of pleasure and danger. Because no matter how good it feels, it always circles back to the truth. 

She’s the CEO’s daughter.

Her engaged daughter. 

The words catch heavy in her throat. Fuck. Rio doesn’t even know when the wedding is. 

The wedding. 

Every time she thinks about it, her throat tightens. It sits in the back of her mind as she kisses her, creeps into her thoughts when she watches her come undone. And when Agatha avoided her earlier sentiment in the hospital, a little voice whispered “she’s someone else’s first…” 

The uncertainty is the worst part. Wanting her so much and never knowing deep down she’ll likely get to keep her. 

__ 

Rio requested an early check-in. While the interns cram into shared rooms with queen beds, roommate style, the attendings are tucked away on higher floors with their own rooms, situated a few floors away from the chaos. 

Moments later, she’s texting Agatha her room number, pacing just inside her hotel room door until she hears her footsteps in the hallway. She yanks the door open before Agatha even has to knock. 

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this,” Rio growls as she shuts the door behind her.

Agatha is on her instantly, mouth against hers, spinning her until she’s pressing her back into the door. Her hands clamp onto Rio’s hips possessively, tongue sweeping in with a hunger that almost startles her. Rio doesn’t care. She wants her here, against the door, the bed, the shower. Anywhere and everywhere. 

“I bet the hospital CEO would love knowing her daughter’s getting fucked on the hospital dime,” Agatha rasps against her ear. 

“Do not bring her up again this weekend,” Rio turns her sharply, pinning her against the wall with a thud. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rio licks her lips, tasting Agatha on them. “That’s my girl.”

She pulls back to take a second to really look at Agatha. Her flushed cheeks, swollen lips. Her hair is piled into a bun on her head and Rio reaches up, tugging the tie free to let it spill loose down her back. Their eyes catch and Rio watches her gaze soften and for a second, they just stay like that, wrapping up in each other against the wall. 

“What?” Agatha furrows her brow at her, breaking the spell. 

“You just look beautiful,” Rio says softly. 

Agatha’s lips part, almost in surprise - something raw crosses her face before she quickly drops her gaze. “Don’t,” Agatha’s voice is thin, almost breaking, as her eyes fix on the neckline of Rio’s shirt. 

“Don’t what?”

“Say things like that.” 

“Why?” Rio questions. She holds her there, searching her expression, waiting for an answer. 

Agatha only replies by moving - crashing her mouth against Rio’s this time. The kiss is rough and urgent, like she’s trying to bury something that almost slipped free. Rio is about to call her out on it but Agatha is clawing at her shirt, dragging it up and over her head before discarding her own. The room is filled with only the sound of frantic kisses, the dull knock of shoulders and hips against the wall. It’s like the tension of the moment is replaced with a burning wildfire of desire coursing through both of them.   

Agatha’s hands don’t stop moving until their clothes are discarded and they are scrambling onto the bed. 

Fuck engagements and half-love declarations, as Agatha flops down onto the pillow, hair sprawled out beneath her, Rio thinks, that even if she only gets her for a few months; just like this, it might be worth it. 

Agatha looks down at her from her spot on the bed, eyes half closed, lips parted. Even without asking, Rio knows what she wants. Her legs fall open, cunt glistening in arousal. Rio climbs up the edge of the bed, her body slithering up until their naked bodies are flush together. She takes a nipple in her mouth, rolling it with her tongue, eliciting a high pitched whine from Agatha’s throat. Rio sucks along the pebbled flesh, sucking it into a soft peak. 

Her lips move to the underside of her breast, finding the perfect spot to brand her. She sucks hard on the skin, pulling it into her mouth until she knows it’s bruising under her lips. Then she bites down, hard. Agatha’s hips jerk upward, connecting with her stomach. 

“Oh god,” Agatha moans as Rio licks the wound, tasting small drops of copper on her tongue.

“I want to mark you everywhere,” Rio groans into her skin, nipping along the side of her other breasts. 

“Fuck,” Agatha wraps her thighs around Rio’s hips from below her, her center connects with her abdomen. “You really shouldn’t…” Agatha starts to protest as Rio’s teeth sink into her breast again, just along the edge of her nipple. 

“Just like that,” Agatha’s tone quickly changes; she hisses as another mark is made, forgetting her earlier sentiment. Her hips grind into Rio’s stomach, trying to ride her abs as a means to get off. Rio lets her slide along her, slick arousal painting her skin. 

Rio pinches her nipples again, smiling as she unwraps Agatha from her middle, placing her down on the bed to move between her thighs. 

Her fingers part the flesh, smearing the arousal around her folds, coating her.

“Shit,” she groans, her mouth leaning closer to its target. “You’re soaked.”

Her tongue darts out, licking a long swipe from the bottom up. She doesn’t want to rush this time. Her tongue laps at her, tasting every drop that she gives her. 

Agatha sighs from above her, her head dropping down to the pillow. Her fingers thread through Rio’s hair, gripping the strands at the root, urging her forward. 

She sucks at her like she’s starving, every moan, every jerk of Agatha’s body spurring her on. She wants to drown in her scent, in the salty-sweet taste of her on her tongue. 

Rio swirls her tongue along her clit, before sucking the swollen bud further into her mouth. 

“I’m…” Agatha breathes, her fingers digging sharply into Rio’s scalp. 

She sucks her clit again, hearing her breathing pick up. She wants her to squirt again, like that first night, where her eager mouth will be waiting. Rio brings her right hand up, two fingers start dipping into her…

A sharp knock comes at her door. 

“No,” Agatha groans, grinding her hips into Rio’s face in a desperate attempt to claim her orgasm. 

“Go away!” Rio shouts, her voice muffled by Agatha’s thighs. 

“Vidal! Open up!” The knock comes again, harder this time. 

“I’m so not done with you,” Rio whispers as she throws a comforter over Agatha. “Do not say a word.” She grabs a hotel robe, wrapping it around her naked body before answering the door.

Jennifer Kale stands there, arms crossed, looking slightly annoyed that she has to wait. 

“Are you in a robe?” She tilts her head at her. “Didn’t we just check in?”

“I...was about to hop in the shower,” Rio lies, hoping it sounds plausible enough. 

“Do that later,” Jen breezes. “Let’s go grab a drink at the bar before the lecture. Might be a bit less boring if we are tipsy.”

Rio tries to think of an excuse, any excuse, but her aroused brain is foggy. 

“Umm, yeah. Ok,” she stammers. “Let me just throw some clothes on.” Her mind immediately goes to Agatha, still in her bed. She needs her to be able to sneak out. “I can meet you down there.” 

She starts to close the door but Jen’s hand darts out, stopping her. 

“Nonsense! I’ll wait out here,” she says too cheerfully. “We can walk down together.” 

Jen leaves the door slightly ajar while she waits. 

Rio grabs some clothes from her bag, Agatha still silent under the covers. She changes in the bathroom quietly while Jen yaps the entire time from the doorway, her voice drifting through the room. 

Five minutes later, Rio steps into the elevator with Jen, donning jeans and a white t-shirt, opting for casual comfort instead of formalwear. She left Agatha in her room and dropped a key on the nightstand, hoping she will decipher her hint. 

The bar is situated just to the right of the lobby, near the entrance of the conference room. A few interns and residents linger at the couches, drinks in hand. She climbs into a bar stool next to Jen, ordering a drink and a small appetizer to share. 

“So how’s it been with your interns?” Jen asks casually, swirling her wine. 

Rio forces herself to focus her attention on Jen, attempting to push thoughts of Agatha to the back of her mind. 

“Not bad,” Rio shrugs. “Billy took a bit to catch on but he’s improving a lot now.”

“He still writes everything in that black notebook like it’s the Bible?”

Rio laughs, “Don’t remind me. Every time I speak, he’s scribbling in there. I want to throw it out a window.”

“Please do,” Jen laughs, before leaning back. Her eyes narrow a bit. “You have that little spitfire, Harkness.”

“Yeah, she can be something. ”

“That entire day you had off it was ‘Dr Vidal does it this way’ and ‘Dr Vidal said that.’ It was annoying.”

“Yeah, right. She gives me hell everyday. Questioning everything.” 

“No way,” Jen says, “She may not show it but she practically worships the ground you walk on. Like an unholy amount. I don’t know how you deal with her.”

Rio finishes the rest of her drink in one gulp. “I know how to put her in her place.”  

Jen tilts her head, studying Rio a little too hard with a sharp, knowing look that makes Rio shift in her seat. “You like that, don’t you?” 

Rio sets her glass down a little too hard on the bar. “Like what?” She tries to play it off.

“That she gives you hell. Most interns are terrified of you, of your knowledge. But she isn’t. You live for that pushback.” 

Rio forces a laugh, leaning back in her seat, careful to keep her face neutral. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“Maybe,” Jen smirks, unconvinced. She takes a slow sip of her wine, eyes never leaving Rio’s. “Or maybe I see the way you look at her when you think no one’s watching.” 

The words punch straight through her. Has she been that obvious? 

Rio picks up a chip from the appetizer, breaking off the corners just to keep her hands busy.

“You’ve got an imagination,” she says finally, keeping her tone even. 

Jen only hums, like she doesn’t buy it for a second. “You know how rumors go in this hospital. It doesn’t take much for a story to get legs.”

Rio lets the chip crumble between her fingers, jaw tight. “I don’t entertain rumors.”

Jen swirls the last of her wine, finishing the glass. “Of course you don’t. Doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” 

“What have you heard?”

“Just that you show a lot of favoritism toward Agatha.”

“It’s a career move. Given her mom’s position and all.”

“Sure…sure it is.” Jen slides off her barstool, smoothing her blazer. “Come on. Let’s grab seats before Sharon starts.”

Rio follows, every step calculated, but she can feel her pulse in her throat. She hates that Jen’s words leave her feeling so exposed. 

Rio hides in the back of the mandatory lecture, taking a seat beside Jen and Strange. It’s the retreat’s one thinly veiled educational component, a way to get the hospital to pay for the trip. Attendings usually spend the time scrolling through their phones, while interns pretend to be interested just long enough to not raise suspicion. 

Two rows ahead, among the other interns, is Agatha. She must have slipped in at some point before Rio noticed. She sits now at a long table, hotel pens, pads of paper and little bottles of water arranged at each spot. Rio can only see the pant of her head, but she knows it’s her. Agatha left her hair down, the small knots and twists from Rio’s earlier hands barely concealed, strands falling as if she brushed it with her fingers before leaving the room. 

Three hours. 

Rio has three hours of these lectures to endure then she’s free for the rest of the night. Free to take Agatha back to her room. Free to finally have her alone again. Free from Jen’s stupid assumptions and her prying eyes. 

The lecture starts and Sharon drowns on about finding joy everyday or some bullshit. She pulls up a powerpoint, telling them they should journal - Rio tunes the rest out, eyes still fixed on the back of Agatha’s head. 

Her phone buzzes on the conference table, luckily face down. Rio snatches it up quickly, silencing it, then slides it under the table to glance at the notification. 

A text from Agatha. With a picture attached.

I was lonely when you left.

The picture is faceless. Showing only the bottom half of Agatha, fingers spread through her curls, touching herself. 

She hides the phone quickly, dropping it into her lap. Jen and Strange seem engrossed enough in the lecture, so she steals a peek again, careful to keep the screen hidden under the table. 

It’s a live photo. Rio presses and holds on the screen to see Agatha’s fingers dipping inside her. 

A rush of wetness pools between Rio’s legs. The earlier interruption left her buzzing, every nerve on fire where she was left untouched. Rio shifts in her seat, crossing her legs to increase the pressure. She tries to look attentive. She can feel her pulse hammering, the heat pooling low in her stomach. 

She looks ahead to see Agatha, head resting in her hand, absent mindingly twirling a piece of her hair without a care in the world. 

She risks another glance at her phone. Another message comes through. 

Can’t stop thinking about you. 

Her pulse spikes. 

She thumbs over the keyboard: me neither.

And there is the danger again, the addiction drawing her in, Agatha coursing through her veins, begging her for another hit.

The phone vibrates against her palm almost immediately, a quiet insistence that makes her chest tighten. 

Let’s leave. This is boring.

Rio’s pulse spikes. She wants to slip out, claim a bathroom break. Agatha can follow behind her by a few minutes. The flush is rising in her neck, the ache between her legs growing with every second she forces herself to sit still. She needs to look normal, needs to seem like she is paying attention, but every glance at Agatha in front of her sends a jolt right through her. 

Jen leans over, whispering to her. “She makes that joke every year.” 

The words snap her back. Rio has no idea what Jen is referring to, the lecture long since a blur in front of her. Rio flips her phone face down on the table, forcing her lips into something like a smile. “I remember.” She doesn’t. 

The rest of the lecture crawls by. Every word Sharon says is meaningless, even more so than usual. Her gaze keeps betraying her, snagging on Agatha’s small movements in front of her - scribbling on the hotel notepad, tapping the end of the pen against her lower lip. Rio shifts in her chair, leg bouncing under the table; restless. 

At last, the crowd rises, starting to shuffle out. Rio stands quickly, shoving her chair back then trying to hide her urgency with a casual stretch. She wants to time it right - avoid Jen and close the distance to Agatha. 

Agatha moves down the center row, arms linked with Billy. Rio slips behind them until they cross the threshold of the conference room, Rio lets her shoulder collide with Agatha’s back. 

“Oww,” Agatha whirls around, annoyance flashing across her face. 

“Sorry, Agatha, didn’t see you there,” Rio mocks.

“Dr. Vidal,” Agatha replies, too formally. Rio wants to push her up against a wall. 

“Hey, Dr. Vidal, we are all going down to the jacuzzi then drinks in my room. 305. You are welcome to join!” Billy says too enthusiastically. 

Jen chimes in on Rio’s right, “Am I invited, or is this a cool-attendings-only situation?” 

“Oh my god! It’s like an everyone thing!” Billy notes. 

“Well,” Agatha claps her hands together. “I’m going to go get my suit on.” 

“Same,” Rio echos, too quickly. She forces herself not to fall in step with Agatha as she leaves. 

As they drift toward the lobby, Rio catches Jen’s voice, “Is something going on with those two?” 

Billy pauses and from where she stands, Rio can’t tell if he’s going to cover for her or just oblivious. Finally, he shrugs. “I always thought they kinda hated each other.”

—

Rio makes her way up to her room, quickly pulling on green swim shorts and a bikini top. Then perches on the edge of the bed, waiting. 

5 minutes pass. 

Then 10. 

No knock. No text. She hadn’t exactly asked Agatha to come by, but part of her expected it given that frantic urgency they left each other with earlier.

Finally, she gives in, pulling out her phone. 

Are you coming by my room first? 

No reply.

She finally gives up and goes to the pool deck, where the place is alive with chatter. Residents are scattered throughout a few hot tubs and poolside chairs, drinks and joints in hand. 

A few of the newer interns try miserably to hide the joints as she passes by. 

“Relax,” Rio mutters with an eye roll. “I didn’t see a thing.” 

She tosses her towel into an empty chair, scanning the water.  Agatha is already there, shoulder-deep, next to Billy and a few others whose name Rio doesn’t care to recall. No clear space for her - not next to Agatha anyway. 

As she walks across the deck toward the awaiting water, Agatha looks up. Her gaze starts at Rio’s legs, slowly crawling up the expansion to her stomach, lingering along her biceps, her breasts, finally meeting her eyes. 

It’s so brazen. So exposed. Rio feels like her prey. 

Agatha moves, wading through the water with a sudden purpose. She makes her way to the steps, water dripping off of her. She’s in a bright red string bikini that stretches across her ass where she climbs the three steps. Rio tries to force herself to look elsewhere but she knows her eyes are lingering just a second too long. Rio notices a few male residents turn their eyes toward her, hitting each other in the chest as they do. 

“We need bubbles!” Agatha declares, turning the small knob just outside the jacuzzi. 

When she comes back in the water, it’s right next to Rio, their legs purposefully touching. The jets churn to life, frothy bubbles obscuring what’s below the surface. 

“Dr. Vidal!” Billy raises a beer in greeting. “Dr. Kale was just telling us about her craziest patient experience.” 

“I told them about the guy who would inject toilet water to make himself sick.” 

“That was nothing compared to the guy who claimed he ‘slipped’ onto a lightbulb,” Rio adds.

“Wait, where did it end up?” Billy asks.

“Exactly where you think,” Rio laughs at the memory. “Had to be surgically extracted.”

“Flared ends, people,” Jen joins in. 

Billy practically chokes on his beer. 

The group launches into various hospital stories, some talking over each other. Shop talk continues even on a retreat. 

That’s when Agatha’s hand slides over Rio’s thigh. 

Rio nearly jolts but the heat of the moment pins her in place. Fuck the fact that they are surrounded by colleagues - she’s been starved all day, restless and growing more feral with need. The hours since Agatha was in her bed stretched like torture, each one a cruel reminder that she couldn’t get enough of her. 

“I thought you were going to come by,” Rio whispers, her voice low.  She tips her head back like she’s stretching, eyes up to the sky, trying to disguise her words. 

“Couldn’t get away,” Agatha offers back. Her gaze lingers on Rio’s mouth, then drags lower toward the top of her bikini top, just peeking out of the water. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

“God,” Rio exhales, breaking into a shiver despite the warm water as Agatha’s hand presses higher, spreading heat in its wake. “You better.”

“I could do it right here if you want.” Her fingers skim the edge of Rio’s shorts, just starting to wander under the fabric. “Could you be quiet for me?” 

Rio starts to protest but her thoughts quickly unravel. “I…” the sentence dies on her tongue as Agatha’s finger slides along her folds, slick with want. 

Agatha slips a single finger inside her and Rio has to bite her bottom lip so hard it stings just to try to smother the sound threatening to come out. The jets churn the water into froth, masking the rocking of Rio’s hips. 

Jen says something about the lecture but the words are muffled under the roar in Rio’s head. She can’t focus because Agatha finds her clit and flicks, sending white hot heat through her. Agatha only laughs at her misery, somehow steady and unaffected by the undoing she’s caused. 

Rio’s hand slides under the water, catching Agatha’s wrist in a bruising grip. She squeezes, hard, nails biting at the skin. This freezes Agatha - a warning. This isn’t the time or place. Rio’s eyes snap up to her, a swirl of fury and need. “You’re insane,” she hisses under her breath. “We can’t do this here.”

Agatha smirks, something dark and slightly sinister, but her fingers don’t stop. “No one is watching you, Dr. Vidal,” she purrs. “They are all too caught up in their own lives.” 

Somewhere deep within the recesses of her mind, something screams at Rio that it isn’t true, that she should stop her…but Agatha’s thumb continues to circle her clit ruthlessly. 

Agatha’s mouth tips closer, brushing Rio’s ear as she shifts. “I’ll come with you.” 

“What?” Rio questions because the idea is entirely too absurd, even for her. But Agatha is already moving, angling her hips slightly forward, until the jet is perfectly lined up, pulsing at her from beneath the surface. 

Rio can see her try to keep her expression neutral, but she exhales sharply, almost inaudible. She sees the flash in her eyes, the way her jaw tightens and the subtle shiver that gives her away. 

Rio’s entire body tenses, a flush rising in her cheeks as she watches Agatha - her chest heaving in shallow, ragged breaths. 

Across the tub, she faintly hears Jen laugh and Billy mention another drink. The world narrows again to the steady, devastating rhythm of Agatha’s hand. 

“Earth to Rio,” Jen teases, leaning closer. “You’re so flushed. Is the heat getting to you?”

Rio shifts in her seat, Agatha’s fingers pumping into her again. “Something…something like that.” 

Agatha tilts her head, feigning innocence, her finger curling inside Rio. “Maybe she just needs to relax,” she tips her head back until it’s resting on the edge of the jacuzzi. To anyone watching, she looks composed, like she’s simply relaxing into the head of the tub. But her tone is too breathy, too unfocused - the jets reeking havoc below the surface. 

Agatha keeps her fingers working inside Rio, while her own hips rock, almost unnoticeable against the pulse of water.  

“Fuck,” Rio lets the word slips through and she tries to muffle it into the sound of a cough. She’s too hot, the steam from the jacuzzi and the growing pressure between her legs threatens to overwhelm her. Agatha presses again, harder, faster - hurling toward the inevitable edge. Every muscle in her body goes taut - a wire straining before it snaps.

Rio tries to maintain an ounce of composure but as she glances over, Agatha looks at her with hooded eyes, her smirk turning strained. Rio watches the slight furrow in her brow, her shoulders tensing. Rio feels it - her slight shutter, her loss of control. Their eyes lock and for a suspended second, Rio knows she’s coming apart, utterly exposed. The fingers inside Rio still for a moment for a moment as she falls, before returning to their pace - plunging again - rougher, faster. 

Rio’s composure is lost. 

The orgasm tears through her, brutal and merciless heat searing through her as her hips jerk into Agatha’s hand beneath the surface. Her nails, still locked on Agatha’s wrist, dig into the skin, carving into her. She wants to sink under the surface to hide the collapse, her body convulsing slightly at the waves of release.  

But Agatha sees it too, standing quickly to move between Rio and the crowd, sheltering her as she comes undone. Her fingers twisting in her as she does, sending an additional shockwave through her. 

Rio finally slumps against the wall of the jacuzzi tub, watching Agatha withdrawal her fingers then slide them lazily through the water as if cleaning them off. She’s still quivering, muscles tight and she wants to be furious with Agatha’s recklessness. Again. 

“I want to fucking tear you apart,” Agatha mouths, eyes still dark with desire. She flashes “10 minutes” with her hands before turning to Billy and picking up his conversation like nothing happened. 

The need comes roaring back on Rio like a hungry beast. 

“Excuse me,” Rio says abruptly, voice tight. She releases Agatha’s wrist and pushes herself out of the water, quickly straightening her shorts as she stands. She grabs her towel, not bothering to hide her urgency. “Too hot in there, I’m going to go back to my room to cool off.” She says pointedly, eyes flicking to Agatha knowingly. 

Jen raises a brow but shrugs, turning back to her drink. Billy launches into another story.

Chapter Text

Rio jabs at the elevator buttons, as if sheer force of will (and hitting them multiple times) might drag the cart down faster. The lobby hums around her but she can only hear footsteps coming closer to her - the only ones she cares about. 

Agatha easily catches up with her, no towel - her bathing suit still steaming as water drops onto the marble flooring below her bare feet. She continues stalking forward until she’s directly behind Rio.

Rio can still feel the jacuzzi heat radiating off of her. Agatha leans forward, just barely, until each ragged breath is whispering over Rio’s bare shoulder. Rio bites down on her lip, stiffening her spine in an attempt to maintain some composure or she’ll give them both away. 

The elevator dings and they step in, the doors sliding shut. In that instant, Agatha is on her - slamming her back into the elevator wall, pinning her hands down at her sides. Her mouth traces along Rio’s jaw, down her throat, teeth catching on her collarbone where she sucks hard enough to bruise. 

“You’re mine tonight,” Agatha growls, something dark and commanding. 

The words should feel like a gift, the claim Rio has been starving for. But the word tonight bites back on her, like glass lodging into her brain. Temporary. 

Her voice breaks free before she can stop it. “Just tonight?”

Rio can feel Agatha freeze under her words, her lips peeling away from Rio’s damp skin. The sudden absence burns and she instantly wants to take it back and pretend she never said it. Rio dares a glance, searching for Agatha’s eyes but she refuses to meet them. Her gaze lingers instead on a scatter of freckles across Rio’s shoulder, as though they’ve become infinitely more fascinating than the question hanging between them. 

Then without a word, Agatha twists and presses the elevator button to her floor. The car jerks to a stop almost too quickly, doors sliding open. 

Rio’s stomach plummets. “Wait, are you…” 

“I’ll meet you there,” Agatha interrupts, finally glancing up and winking just as the doors close between them. 

—

“I wanted to bring you something special,” Agatha teases as soon as Rio opens her hotel room door. 

She’s dressed in a swim cover up, some light flowy gown, her hair still damp from the jacuzzi. Without waiting for an invitation, she drifts to the center of the room, eyes watching Rio. 

“Sit,” she offers softly, motioning toward the bed.

Rio perches herself on the edge, leaning forward where she rests her hands on her knees.

Agatha walks over to stand in front of Rio, nearly touching her. Rio opens her legs to accommodate her, Agatha stands between them. From this position, she looms over her and Rio has to look up to meet her face. Agatha hooks her index finger under Rio’s chin before bending down to kiss her. She leans into Rio as their tongues tangle, their bodies connecting. 

Suddenly, Rio’s eyes go wide beneath her, her lips pausing mid-kiss. 

She pulls back from Agatha and her eyes drift down to Agatha’s waist. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow and smirks. Then she lifts her arms, stripping the gown over her shoulders. She discards it somewhere on the floor. Rio looks down to see dark leather crossing along her hips, a deep purple cock jutting out from between her legs. 

“And here I thought you’d be riding me tonight,” Rio’s teeth sink into her bottom lip, half-smirk, half-confession. 

Agatha shakes her head as she watches her. Rio can feel the dynamic change, the way Agatha’s eyes grow dark and predatory. Her hand comes up to Rio’s jaw, grasping along the sides, squeezing. The grip is strong, almost painful. 

“Mine,” Agatha growls, the strap resting against Rio’s knee. 

The lust clouds over Rio’s mind as she shivers. The shift in the air is unmistakable now. Agatha isn’t being coy, she’s hunting. 

Her fingers slide from Rio’s jaw to her hair, along the nape of her neck. She yanks at the root, causing Rio to gasp. Her head falls back at the movement, mouth open. 

“On your knees,” Agatha commands. 

Rio obeys, dropping from the bed until she’s kneeling on the carpet in front of Agatha. 

“Open your mouth,” Agatha demands. 

Rio obeys, her mouth open and waiting. 

“Now stick out your tongue.”

Rio does, like she’s in mass, waiting for sacrament. 

Agatha leans forward, eyes locked on hers as she spits deliberately onto her tongue. Rio shudders, swallowing greedily without waiting for permission; her body aching for more. 

Agatha smirks, then turns to sit on the edge of the bed. The strap juts forward, dark and waiting. 

Rio doesn’t need to be told. She leans in, licking slowly from base to tip, lingering at the head as though worshipping at the altar of Agatha. 

“Oh fuck,” Agatha groans, her composure slipping as Rio’s mouth envelops the length of her cock.

Rio sinks deeper, gagging softly as her throat tightens, but she pushes through, desperate to take more. She exhales, her throat opening to take her deeper. The sight of her - eyes wet, lips stretched, mouth full - makes Agatha’s fingers curl into her hair. Guiding but not forcing. 

“You talk such a big game, Dr. Vidal,” Agatha purrs, watching as the tears brim on Rio’s eyes. “But I think this is where you are best. On your knees for me. Sucking my cock.” 

Rio bobs her head, slower now. Every movement is like devotion, her lips stretched, her tongue teasing against the underside as though Agatha can feel it.

Agatha’s breath hitches, hot and ragged, as her fingers tighten in Rio’s dark hair. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Agatha groans, her thighs tightening, voice shuddering with need. “So eager to take it. So perfect.”

Rio pulls back with a wet gasp, spit sliding down her chin. Her eyes flash up at Agatha - hungry and dark before she swallows her down again, deeper this time. She gags, the sounds tearing through Agatha like a lightning strike. 

“Jesus,” Agatha’s voice breaks. Her hips jerk forward, forcing Rio’s throat to stretch around her. Rio moans against it, hands clutching at Agatha’s thighs, nails digging into her skin. Tears start breaking free from the corner of her eyes, cascading down her cheeks. 

Agatha shudders, leaning forward, her own pulse hammering as she watches the cock disappear down Rio’s throat. Rio is all-consuming under her, trembling and bobbing like she can’t get enough. She continues like that, sucking along the length of her until Agatha can’t take it anymore. 

“Get up,” Agatha commands, tugging sharply at her hair, forcing her upright. 

Rio sways slightly backward, knees weak as she obeys. Her lips glisten with spit, a slick trail leading to Agatha’s cock. Her lips are swollen, cheeks pink, tears streaking her skin. 

Agatha’s gaze roams her as she stands, her head tilting. “You are wearing entirely too many clothes,” she groans. “Let’s fix that.” 

Her hands settle on Rio’s hips, fingers tugging the swim shorts down. Rio bites her lip, eyes wide as she watches Agatha motion for her to spin around. She plucks at the bikini top strings, watching it untie and fall to the floor. 

“Better,” Agatha takes her seat back on the edge of the bed. “Much better.” 

And Rio can’t help it, she leans forward without asking, meeting Agatha’s lips with a mix of desperation and obedience. Agatha’s hand snakes down, sliding along Rio’s bare hips, pulling her closer onto her lap. 

“Now did I say you could do that?” Agatha teases with no real malice behind her voice. 

“I couldn’t resist,” Rio murmurs against her mouth before leaning in to kiss her again. Agatha doesn’t protest; she just slides her tongue into Rio’s mouth with demanding heat. 

Agatha’s fingers trail lower, moving to Rio’s center, teasing, stroking along the slick skin. 

“I was going to grab the lube…But I don’t think it’s needed.” 

“Not needed,” Rio repeats her answer. She straddles Agatha hips before grabbing the strap in one hand, stroking it through her folds, coating the silicone in her arousal. 

“Sit on it.” Agatha orders, her eyes grow dark again as Rio starts sinking down. Rio moans as she takes it all in, filled to the hilt. When she starts to move again, Agatha’s fingers dig into her thighs, stopping her immediately. 

“I want you to listen very carefully to me,” Agatha commands, tilting Rio’s head back up to look her in the eyes. She leans back slightly, elbows resting on the bed. Rio’s knees fall on either side of her hips. 

The new angle stretches her further. “Oh my god,” Rio gasps, throwing her head back at the sensation of Agatha stretching her, lost in the moment.  

“Listen to me,” Agatha’s fingers come up to the sides of her throat, squeezing gently on the pulse points. “Don’t move. Not until I say.”

Rio tries to freeze but her hips betray her, twitching slightly. 

Agatha pulls Rio down to her, chest flush with hers. Her teeth nip along her jaw. “Look how good you look. Full of my cock.” 

Rio whines.  Every inch of her trembles, every nerve igniting with want. She desperately wants to move.  Agatha’s hands roam as she waits, sliding up her slides, cupping her breast. She pulls the nipple under her fingers, making Rio shiver, her hips rolling on instinct. 

Agatha laughs at her growing desperation. She dips her head to take one of Rio’s nipples in her mouth, biting down softly before soothing the rough flesh with her tongue. 

Rio moans, something raw and animalistic, and her hips start rolling again. She’s chasing the friction of the harness against her clit. An angle that sends an electric jolt through her, pushing her closer to the edge.

“I said don’t move,” Agatha tries to still her hips again. 

“Agatha,” Rio warns, her voice strained, “if you don’t let me move, I’m going to come right here. I can’t hold on much longer.” 

“Ride me,” Agatha groans roughly. 

Rio obeys eagerly, her hips rising up, almost sliding the cock out of her before slamming back down. Agatha’s head drops onto the bed with a content sigh. Rio moves her hands to Agatha’s chest, using it as leverage to bounce on her again. Agatha’s hands find the bones along Rio’s hips, gripping, keeping her flush against her with every thrust. Rio cries out, every nerve electrified. 

The friction is building, pushing her toward the edge as she sets a steady pace, riding Agatha. A thin sheen of sweat starts to coat her brow, her thighs burn, but she doesn’t care. She’s lost in the sensation - the stretch, the leather pressing against her sensitive flesh. Every movement is a delicious torment. 

“Who do you belong to?” Agatha murmurs, her voice low and possessive. 

“You,” Rio gasps, trembling above her. 

“Say it again,” Agatha presses, her hips rising up to meet Rio’s. 

“You, fuck.” Rio shivers, uncontrollably, hips stuttering. 

Agatha must feel how close she is, her movements now more erratic, more urgent. Rio’s fingers find her own clit, rubbing tight circles. 

“That’s it…right there…” Agatha ushers her toward the edge. “Don’t fight it, baby. Give it to me.”

Rio’s cries grow louder, raw, ignoring how loud she is or who might hear her in this space. She doesn’t care. Her movements are driven by the overwhelming pressure, fed by Agatha’s eyes watching her, her dominant voice coaxing it out of her. 

The pet name. The dark look in Agatha’s eyes. Her commanding voice. It hurls Rio toward her orgasm with embarrassing intensity. 

She throws her head back as she shatters for her. Her orgasm rips through her in waves, not soft or sweet but brutal, unrelenting pleasure. Her walls clench tight, her body spasms like it’s tearing her apart. Her vision sees white stars at the edges. Rio can feel the flood of wetness leave her, coating her inner thighs and the harness. 

Rio barely comes down from her high, Agatha still inside her as her hips twitch once more with the last tremors of her release. 

“More,” she whines.

“Fuck yes,” Agatha hisses, slipping out of her quickly and rising to her knees behind her. Rio crawls onto all fours, the slick still dripping between her thighs. “So greedy.” 

Agatha’s hands find her hips instantly, gripping hard before she thrusts into her without warning.  The force stings deliciously, making Rio gasp, but there is barely time to register it before Agatha is pulling out and slamming into her again. 

“Oh my god,” Rio moans, her head dropping to the bed below her. Her hands fumble blindly for a pillow, clutching it under her as her head drops down. She’s angling her ass up at Agatha, a motion that makes her inner walls clench tighter around her. 

“So tight.” Agatha’s fingers digs into Rio’s hips as she thrusts in and out, claiming her. Rio can feel the raw, almost violent thrust, the way her nails bruise into the flesh. “You look so pretty like this, bent over for me.” 

Rio arches, her hips rocking back to meet Agatha’s force. She wants Agatha to bruise her, to leave a mark that will linger long after tonight. A memory of the way she took her, utterly claimed. 

Agatha slams into her again and again. Every nerve feels hypersensitive, her clit pulsing with every movement. It doesn’t take her long to reach her second orgasm. It crashes into her as Agatha hits her at the perfect angle, deeper than before. 

“You’re not done,” Agatha barely slows down as Rio whimpers through the pleasure. 

Agatha drives into her again and Rio cries out, body collapsing with overstimulation. She drops onto the bed, flat. Agatha places her hands flat on her back, holding her down, controlling her entirely. Rio sighs into it, the pressure of Agatha’s hands on her back, the bed bouncing beneath her. She feels entirely claimed, but whole - her brain is starting to get fuzzy, floaty and Agatha’s thrusts drive her higher, closer. 

Her thighs clench together and waves of heat radiate from her, quaking, shuttering, begging for relief. She snakes a hand underneath her, squished into the bed. She applies pressure to her clit and her hips arch upward into Agatha as she thrusts. 

Overwhelming pleasure hits her again, another her orgasm crashing over her. She screams into the pillow, her voice muffled. 

“I’m right there with you, baby,” Agatha cries out above her, chasing her own orgasm as Rio drowns in her. “Jesus,” she shutters above Rio, her hips stalling for a second before her legs quiver with release. 

Rio’s mind is foggy with pleasure of multiple orgasms, every inch hypersensitive. Agatha rolls her hips again, sending jolts through her body - so sharp they border on unbearable. 

“One more,” Agatha murmurs, her voice low. 

“I don’t have anymore,” Rio whimpers. 

“Yes, you do.” She wraps her arm around Rio’s hips, hauling her up backward toward her. 

Agatha lifts her right hand, slipping her thumb past her own lips. She sucks slowly, coating it in spit, her tongue circling until it glistens. Then she drags it down, pressing against the tight ring of Rio’s ass. 

The pressure makes Rio hiss through her teeth. Agatha pulls her thumb out slightly, then leans down and spits directly onto her ass, letting it drip down her and spread. She uses her thumb to smear the wetness, rubbing in small circles as she presses inward. 

“Oh,” Rio moans, feeling herself stretch around the intrusion. 

“Breathe,” Agatha coaches her through it. Rio exhales, her body relaxing slightly as Agatha presses her thumb forward again into her.  “I’m going to start moving, ok?” Agatha asks, her voice rough with the control she’s trying to hold onto. 

“Yeah…” Rio pants, nodding quickly. 

Agatha starts thrusting into her again, her thumb sinking in with the motion. The dual stretch hits Rio so unexpectedly, pleasure laced with the sharp edge of pain. “Yesss…” Rio hisses again, this time an unexpected rush coursing through her. 

“You are perfect like this,” Agatha drives into her again, her breath growing more ragged with want. “Both holes filled for me.” 

Agatha’s voice is driving her closer to the edge again. 

“Yours,” Rio whimpers, her voice hoarse. 

Her body seems to surrender with her words. Her moans break into whimpers as the overload crashes into her. She would expect this orgasm to be smaller, her body wracked and tired. But the sensation overwhelms her, white hot heat exploding behind her eyes. Her knees nearly buckle under her as the pressure bursts. She screams, the sound tearing from her throat, her body seizing around Agatha with violent force. 

Agatha thrusts once, twice, muttering a string of explicits as she comes with her.  A series of smaller orgasms and aftershocks hit Rio. She doesn’t know where one ends and another begins. She’s hit with waves after wave of coursing pleasure, smaller but just as devastating. 

Rio rides it out, each convulsion stealing her breath until she finally collapses forward, her arms giving out as she drops onto the pillow, trembling and wrecked. 

Agatha withdrawals from both holes, slumping on the bed next to her. For a second, Rio can only hear her breathing, just as heavy as hers. Her hand rests next to Rio’s in the bed, touching lightly but never moving to link their fingers. 

After a few minutes, Agatha stands, walking toward the bathroom.  When she comes back, she has a wet washcloth in her hands, warm from the sink. She settles between Rio’s legs on the bed, gently running the cloth over her legs, her cunt, her ass. 

“You were so good for me,” Agatha purrs as she cleans her. 

Rio sighs, her body heavy but satisfied, her head settling into the pillow behind her. 

Rio is very content to just fall asleep right now, Agatha warm against her side. The post orgasm haze hangs heavy over her head, exhaustion tugging at her body. 

But Agatha is already up out of bed again, slipping on the swim dress cover up with nothing underneath. 

“Just come back to bed,” Rio protests, her voice thick with fatigue. “It’s already so late. We can sleep it off.” 

“I promised I’d make an appearance at Billy’s,” Agatha whines. “Come with me. It will be fun.”

“Somehow I doubt drunken residents in a crammed hotel room is fun.” 

—

By the time they reach Billy’s room, it’s already chaos. Any plan of a discreet, staggered entrance is useless, the music is blaring, door open as people file in and out. Inside, interns and residents mingle, doing shots at a corner table, beer is already soaking into a spot on the carpet. Jen is in the corner, leaning too close to Alice for a mere friendly conversation. 

“I feel too old to be there,” Rio yells into Agatha’s ear, trying to be heard over the music. 

“You are,” Agatha teases as they make their way into the room. 

They weave through the crowd toward a dresser overflowing with liquid bottles, plastic cups and a few sparse mixers. Rio reaches to the back, fishing out a half-forgotten bottle of gin. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices someone waving, directed in their direction. 

“Agatha!” Some guy calls loudly, jumping a bit to get her attention. 

Agatha ignores him. 

Rio doesn’t recognize him. Not from the hospital. Or anywhere really. He doesn’t match the vibe around him in his blue and pink tie-dye shirt, a blue beanie on his head. Before she knows it, he’s pushing his way through the crowd toward them. 

“Do you know him?” Rio asks, pouring the clear liquid into a red cup. 

Agatha takes a long exhale, her face dropping. Rio looks at her face and a sudden cold chill runs through her. She can’t explain it but she feels like she’s on the edge of devastation. A train barreling towards her. One she knows she can’t stop.

“Rio, I’m so sorry,” Agatha mutters before turning toward the guy. 

“Ralph.”

“Hey honey,” He opens his arms for a hug, but Agatha angles herself, stiff, her arms pinned to her sides. He leans forward to kiss her cheeks as she pivots, his lips hitting only empty air. 

“Ralph?” Rio manages, the name like gravel in her throat. “You’re the…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. She expects nausea, a collapse, like the floor dropping out from under her. But the emotion surprises her. Rage. Rage at him for ruining her night. Rage at him for trying to claim her - for existing at all. And finally, rage at Agatha for letting him exist in this space. Or maybe at all. 

“Hi,” he sticks out his hand as if nothing is wrong, “I’m Ralph, Agatha’s fiance.”

Rio stares out his outstretched hand. She doesn’t take it. She doesn’t move at all. Frozen, except for her jaw working, teeth grinding against the scream clawing up her throat. 

Her eyes snap to Agatha, who won’t meet them. Won’t even try. The avoidance only adds fuel to the fire. 

“How did you know where to find me?” Agatha asks, her teeth clenched. 

“Your mom told me.” He finally drops his hand to his side, realizing Rio isn’t going to return the gesture. 

Rio’s vision narrows. Can Rio kill Evanora? She’s a doctor. She knows how to make it look like an accident.

Against her better judgement, Rio keeps talking, the words spilling out before she has time to process them. 

“Where did you meet Agatha?” She asks, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

“Oh my dad knows her mom. She introduced us. And her mom was the one who suggested I propose so early, after only a few months. I guess she just knew she’d say yes,” Ralph tilts his head at Agatha, a smitten look on her face. 

Agatha flashes the fakest smile Rio has ever seen. Under different circumstances, Rio would laugh at the gesture. But then Ralph steps closer, threading his fingers through Agatha’s and gives her hand a little squeeze. His thumb rubs casually along hers. 

The same thumb that pressed into Rio’s ass not even an hour ago. Rio isn’t even sure she washed it. 

Jealously bubbles up in her, ugly and mean. It burns her chest like fire, coursing down her arms to her fingertips. They itch with the urge to peel his hands off of her. Or snap his fingers, one by one, until he understands who Agatha belongs to. 

But her thoughts are interrupted. 

“Oh that reminds me,” a resident pipes up, picking the worst possible moment as he cluelessly elbows in for a drink. “Can I just RSVP to you for the wedding or do I have to do the official online thing?” He looks straight at Agatha, waiting for an answer.  

Agatha’s eyes go wide. She drops Ralph’s hand like it burns her, wiping it on her dress quickly. “Now really isn’t the best time.” She looks frantically between Rio and Ralph. 

“On the contrary,” Rio spits, overly sarcastic. “How do they RSVP for the wedding, Agatha? And when is it again? Funny - it seems my invite got lost in the mail.” 

The shift is immediate. The hum of conversations die down, heads turn. Even the music seems to have collapsed into silence. 

“Fuck,” she hears Billy mutter under his breath. 

She sees Ralph turn toward the resident, cluelessly picking up the conversation with him like nothing is wrong. 

“Rio,” Agatha warns sharply. “Don’t do this.” 

Rio can hear Jen mutter from her corner, “Did she just call her Rio?” But she doesn’t have the space to deal with that. Not now. Because now she’s pissed. 

“Do what, exactly Agatha?” Rio can feel her blood boiling, her tone rising in anger. “Why wouldn’t you invite your favorite attending to your wedding? It seems everyone else is coming.” 

“Dr. Vidal,” Billy edges up beside her, his voice careful, “Do you want to take a walk…” His words trail off, as if he already regrets saying them. 

“You know what, Billy?” Rio’s glare never leaves Agatha. Her eyes narrow, venom sharp in her voice. “A walk sounds great.” 

She stomps out of the room, the air around her still vibrating with tension. Billy follows, his footsteps quickening to try to keep up. Rio barrels down the hallway with no real destination, only fury propelling her forward. 

“Fuck!” She explodes, slamming her fist into the wall. The hollow thud echoes down the hallway, her knuckles stinging at the force. 

“Hey, umm Dr. Vidal,” Billy ventures again in an awkward attempt to comfort her. 

Rio whirls toward him, face flushed, eyes blazing. “Not the time, Billy!” she snaps, practically spitting the words at him. 

He starts to shrink away, backing down the hallway, his hands raised in surrender. And that’s when Rio sees it - what he’d been trying to warn her about. 

Agatha. 

She stalks down the hall, brow furrowed in anger as her fists are clenched at her sides. 

“What the fuck was that?” Agatha spits, each word cracking like a whip against the empty hall. 

Billy scoots away silently, slinking back into his hotel room. 

“Excuse me!” Me?” Rio snaps, spinning on her heels to face Agatha. Her chest heaves with fury. 

“Yes, you!” Agatha yells back. “You had no choice right! You…” 

“Stop!” Rio interrupts her, the angry echo of her voice bouncing off the walls. She’s fully aware of the scene she’s causing, the noise, even the potential audience. She doesn’t care.

This has gone on long enough now. Agatha’s avoidance, the secrets. She wants answers. Now. 

“Did you fuck him?” The words rip from her throat before she can think. 

“Rio!”

“Answer. The. Question.” She steps closer, looming over Agatha as she starts to back up, her back hitting the wall. 

She meets Rio’s eyes, storming anger building in them. Like she’s debating the truth. 

“No.” She says definitively and Rio believes her. “You happy now?” 

“No.” 

“What can I do to convince you then?” She crosses her arms in front of her defensively, tilting her head. 

“Break up with him,” Rio snaps instantly, teeth gritted. 

Agatha flinches, just a twitch, a crease in her brow - but Rio sees it. The weight of the words hang between them, demanding a response. Still, Agatha doesn’t answer. 

“That’s what I thought,” Rio’s voice is low, grinding. That’s it. The answer she’s been hunting for, without even realizing she was looking for it. 

Agatha won’t leave him. 

Not for her.

The hallway suddenly feels smaller, constrictive. Like the walls are closing in on her, threatening to crush her. 

“Rio,” Agatha’s voice cracks, almost whiny now, raw with desperation. She folds forward on the wall, shoulders slumping as her arms hold her stomach like she can’t physically stand anymore. “Please, my love…”

The words stop Rio in her tracks. Pain sears through her like she touched a live wire. She wants to reach for her, to grab her. She wants this to be a false reality, a mirror of a real universe where they are together, happy, without these strings attached. 

In that moment, another realization hits her. The puppet master in all of this. The real cause of her pain. 

Evanora. 

“So that’s it huh? You are going to let her control you. Dictate your life?” Rio’s voice shakes with a mixture of anger and grief. She’s waiting, longing for Agatha to contradict her; to tell her it’s not true. She doesn’t want to know the truth. She wants a different ending. 

“I don’t have a choice,” Agatha whispers, barely audible, the finality of it cutting Rio’s chest in two. 

“Seems I’m not the only one concerned about her job,” Rio rolls her eyes. 

“That’s not fair.”

“So you are going to spend your entire life in a fake marriage that you don’t want? Being unhappy?” Rio’s voice drips with accusation, disbelief and under it all - pain. 

“We can’t always get what we want,” Agatha murmurs, her voice steady but the words hollow. “Sometimes we are just dealing with the cards we are dealt.”

“This doesn’t even sound like you,” Rio steps closer, her index finger hooking under Agatha’s chin, forcing her to look up at her. “Is that a line that mommy fed you?” 

“Fuck you!” Agatha jerks back, yanking her chin free. “I’m not doing this.” She shoves past Rio, shoulder colliding into her. “Aren’t you supposed to be my attending? Helping me in my professional career? Where does lesbian life advice play into that?” Agatha spits the words like venom.

“Then I’m an idiot for thinking I was more than that,” Rio retaliates. 

The sudden ping of elevator doors opening breaks through the tension. Two hotel security officers step out, scanning the hallway. 

“Excuse me,” one of them says, an older man in a stretched polo, pot belly stretching the fabric. He looks out of breath, despite taking an elevator ride to reach them. “We received reports of a disturbance.” 

Rio straightens, falling into a professional mode instantly. She flashes a toothy, polite smile even though every fiber of her body is still humming with tension. “We were just leaving,” she says smoothly. 

“She was just leaving,” Agatha corrects, turning down the hallway in the opposite direction. Her posture rigid with quiet defiance. 

“Agatha?” Rio calls, desperation rising quickly. “Agatha!” She calls again, but Agatha doesn’t slow, she doesn’t look back. 

Just before Agatha disappears around the threshold back to the hotel room, Rio’s frustration boils over. “You are a coward!” She yells, her words full of frustration, heartbreak and barely contained fury. 

No response awaits her. 

Rio pivots, shoulders tight, and begins to leave. She steals one last glance back at the party door. And swears she sees a flicker of movement. The back of Jen’s head, darting back inside. 

Chapter Text

Rio rolls over in bed and groans, the motion sending a sharp pulse of pain through her skull. As her body stirs fully awake, memories crash into her. She’s still in her hotel room. Alone. Her hangover slams into her reminding her that after her fall out with Agatha, she went straight to the hotel bar, drowning her sorrows alone while the party continued upstairs. 

The details are a bit fuzzy. Multiple glasses of tequila, an embarrassing amount of tears and endless glances at her phone, begging it to buzz. 

At least she remembers she was alone. Right now, she doesn’t know if that makes her feel better or worse. 

Agatha’s strap still sits discarded on the floor of her hotel room. She didn’t even bother to wash it. For a moment, Rio thinks about throwing it away, but she won’t leave that horror for the housekeepers to find. 

Dragging herself upright, she stumbles to the bathroom. The light is blinding, worsening her headache and the sudden motion leaves her stomach revolting. She heaves into the toilet until her throat is raw. 

The shower that follows is brutally hot but it does nothing to strip away the memory of Agatha. Her body aches with it - the purple bruises along her hips where her fingers clamped tight, the soreness between her thighs. She hates it. Hates that her body remembers what her mind is screaming to forget. 

She shoves on a pair of sunglasses as she grabs her bag to leave, hoping anyone who sees her is also too hung over to recognize her.

As she climbs into the elevator, mercifully, it’s empty. She slouches into the back corner. 

It lowers two floors before it stops, the doors opening on the third floor. 

Jen walks in. Eyes down. Rio pretends not to notice she’s wearing the same clothes from last night. 

“Rio,” she greets her, her voice a combination of pity and warning. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean, I can’t say I didn’t warn you but…”

“Just stop, Jen.”

“I’m just saying, I think that…”

Rio cuts her off again. “Oh yes, please tell me all about sleeping with an intern! That must be fascinating coming from you; or did you not just leave Alice’s bed?” 

Jen freezes, eyes wide. “What? How did you..?”

“You got in at the third floor,” Rio spits. “Where the residents were staying.” Rio looks her up and down. “And same clothes.” 

Color rushes to Jen’s cheeks. “Fuck, I wasn’t very sly, was I?” 

“Didn’t even last a day.” Rio folds her arms. “So no, I don’t need your pity today.”

Her words are meant to harm. And they do. 

The rest of the elevator ride is silent. 

—

By the next morning, Rio wants to call in sick. Again. 

Her body is practically begging for it. She tells herself it’s a prolonged hangover. A two day age-related punishment. But she knows better. This isn’t her body. It’s her mind. Emotional whiplash. The fallout of crashing out over someone half her age. 

Calling out would feel like surrendering to those feelings. Like letting Agatha win.

No. 

Today she’ll walk into that hospital polished and professional. Every ounce of her will scream control. 

The thoughts jolt her with deja vu. The same mentality when she first slept with Agatha. Convincing herself she could compartmentalize. 

Except this time, it’s not because of a slip up.  

It’s because everything’s changed. 

For those two days, the fight runs like a film reel that Rio can’t turn off. Every word. Every pause. Every movement of Agatha’s mouth. She drags the memories through her mind until they’re raw and frayed. 

Agatha telling her she won’t leave him. 

Rio spitting back that she’s a coward. And God, that one even cuts her, jagged and unhealed. 

Then the silence. And the leaving. 

Cold and empty. 

One thing sticks, stubborn and impossible to shake. 

Please, my love.

My love.

Love. 

The words dig in, relentless. Not a mistake, right? Something Agatha tossed out casually or was it really Agatha’s true feelings slipping through in a moment of desperation?

Rio tells herself it doesn’t matter. Love means nothing if the path of Agatha’s life has already been carved in stone. And yet - the thought presses on her chest, heavy and immoveable. 

She fights to try to sleep that night - tossing and turning until she finally falls asleep and dreams only of her. By morning, she feels hollowed out, starting in on the caffeine intake before her alarm even rings.

She hauls the door to the conference room open, loud and aggressive. 

Billy and Alice’s eyes dart up, flinching as if ready to shield themselves from the impending battle.

But Agatha doesn’t even look up. 

It’s deliberate, calculated. Agatha spends the morning breezing past her in the conference room without a glance, snatching her patient list without a word. 

And when she finally is forced to speak, it’s with a clipped, dismissive tone she would use with a stranger. Not someone she shared a bed with only days ago. Underneath the chill of Agatha’s gaze, Rio still wants to feel the heat of what they once were. But that seems impossibly far away now. 

Morning rounds are eerily silent except for the sounds of clicking keyboards and the scratching of pens. 

Rio struggles to concentrate on her computer, lab numbers blur, sentences repeat and dissolve on her screen. She’s chosen her seat at the conference room table with precision - close enough to study Agatha, to catch the smallest flickers of her expressions. Every furrow of her brow, every upturn of her lip. 

And she hates it. 

A little part of her hates that in only a few months, Agatha turned her world upside down. Made her question everything she knew, stripped her of certainty - made her want to crawl on her hands and knees to get to her. 

She hates that she can’t have her - not in the way she wants her. Wholly. Unrestrained. Free. 

She hates how much she might love…

No. She can’t think that. Not here. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

The only thing that became wildly clear during that resident retreat weekend, was that Agatha will choose him. And her mother. Over Rio. 

That is something she is still grappling with as she cues up the next patient for rounds. 

“This patient admitted last night for an MI needs to be optimized on medical therapy. Who can tell me what needs to be added to his regimen?” Rio forces herself to switch her focus back on work, even if her gaze lingers on Agatha a second too long. 

The room is silent again.

“Agatha?” Rio probes, even though it’s not her patient. Or her turn to answer.

“Ask cardiology,” Agatha says flippantly.

“I’m sure they know the answer, but we are here for your education,” Rio snaps. 

“Fine.” Agatha grates. “He’s already on a statin, but it needs to be high dose. And we will add a beta blocker, ace-inhibitor and aspirin.” 

“Now was that so hard?” Rio’s words spit sarcasm.

The look Agatha gives her could kill. “Am I done? I’d like to go back to charting.” 

“No, you aren’t. There is a patient in the emergency room that we need to admit.”

“Sounds like Alice can do it,” Agatha snaps in deliberate defiance. 

“You are doing it.” Rio doesn’t leave room for argument, but Agatha does anyway. 

“And if I don’t?” She challenges. 

“I put on your evaluation that I recommend you fail the rotation.”

She hears Alice gasp. 

Agatha slams her hands down on the table as she shoves her chair back, the scrape loud. She stalks toward the door, shoulders stiff. 

“Don’t be too dramatic or anything,” Rio taunts as she follows her out the door.

The emergency room is filled with the usual buzz of elderly patients dozing under fluorescent lights, a drunk man shouting for a turkey sandwich and the sharp smell of antiseptic mixing with old, stale coffee. 

Rio lets Agatha sign into the workstation, giving her space to click through the chart before she sinks down into the chair next to her, angling just so that her thigh grazes hers. Usually, the touch would earn her a quick quip, a sly sideways glance, or a promise of later. 

This time, Agatha simply moves away. “Don’t,” she breathes. But she doesn’t sound angry, just…sad. 

Rio bites her lip and scoots away, leaving a strip of cold space between them. They dissolve into silence, the sounds of the emergency room chaos constantly swirling around them. 

Rio’s leg bounces beneath the work station table, a restless pulse of energy. Her fingernail taps on the mouse; a relentless sharp clicking noise cutting through their silence. 

“Can you stop?” Agatha suddenly snaps, glaring at her. 

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Yes, you are. You are fidgeting and I’m trying to concentrate.” 

Rio picks up a pen instead, her thumb pressing the plunger up and down endlessly. She flips it a few times in her fingers, until it slips, flying sideways to land next to her. 

“For fucks sake!” Agatha practically yells. 

“So that’s what it takes for you to talk to me?” Rio lifts an eyebrow as she picks up the pen from its spot on Agatha’s keyboard. “Good to know.”

“What do you want from me, Rio?” 

“I want you to talk to me.”

“You mentioned that. But you ask me questions you don’t want the answers to then get mad when I tell the truth.” 

Rio’s voice drops to a low whisper. “You called me your love.”

Agatha freezes, her eyes widening silently. Then she stiffens her jaw. “You heard that.”

“Do you want to take it back?”

“It doesn’t matter. It can’t…”

“It matters to me,” Rio’s voice breaks slightly. 

“Rio….” Agatha says her name like a warning. “Don’t. Don’t do that. This…we were having fun. That’s it, right?”

The words feel like a dagger, twisting into her skin. As much as she wants to pretend there is more. This weekend showed her she was a fool. Grasping at straws of a life that can never happen. Proof she was lying to herself. 

“Can we focus on the patient now?” Agatha pleads. “Please?”

“Yeah…” the words come out small. “Yeah, we can.”

Then Rio leans forward, squinting at the patient’s chart on the screen. A 21-year old female here for abdominal pain found to have suspected ectopic pregnancy. 

Then at the bottom of the chart: mother at bedside, refusing intervention.

Fuck.

The universe is laughing at her. 

—

“Agatha, what’s your plan?” She asks as they finish reviewing the patient. 

The tension sits just below the surface, a volcano ready to erupt. But God dammit, one thing years of medicine has taught her is how to ignore all her shit in the moment and focus on the patient. 

“We need to call OB. They can determine if she needs surgical or medical intervention,” Agatha’s tone shifts instantly into professional mode. Her back straightens as she adjusts her white coat and stands. 

“Right,” Rio rises to follow. “Let’s make sure the family understands the seriousness of the situation. There is a note that the mother is refusing treatment for her daughter.” 

A flicker of color drains from Agatha’s face. “If the pregnancy continues, the fallopian tube could rupture, causing life-threatening hemorrhage.” 

“Exactly. It’s not a matter of if, it’s when,” Rio pauses outside the door. “I’m going to let you take the lead.” 

As they step inside, a frail brunette sits in the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her mother is pacing the room, phone in hand, texting furiously. 

“Finally,” the mother snaps, before they can introduce themselves. “We have been waiting forever. She feels better now; she’s ready to discharge.” 

“Ok…” Agatha falters for a breath, then steadies. “I’m Dr. Harkness. This is Dr. Vidal. I wanted to make sure you understand what’s happening with Carol.” 

“I know perfectly well,” the mother’s eyes flash up, filled with hostility, “You doctors are trying to push her into an abortion!” 

Agatha inhales sharply. “Your daughter’s pregnancy is ectopic. It is implanted in her fallopian tube. To try to save her life, the pregnancy has to be terminated.”

Rio gives Agatha a discreet nudge, in the side, urging her to focus on the patient rather than the mother. 

“Carol,” Agatha starts as she turns to the patient. “Do you understand what I’m telling you.”

The patient looks between her mother and Agatha before she gives the smallest of nods. 

But the mother cuts in again, her voice rising, “See, I knew it! That’s all these liberal types want to do is push for abortions! I bet you are going to make some vaccine with her baby’s parts!” The mother starts yelling now, her words venomous. 

Rio braces herself for Agatha to snap back - to bear her teeth and rip into the mother until Rio has to drag her from the room. Like she’s seen her do before. But she doesn’t. She just….backs down. 

“Ok. Well…umm..I guess…” Her voice falters, her words falling over themselves. “I can get discharge paperwork…”

“Damn right you will,” the mother says triumphantly. Agatha’s shoulders slump slightly, her frame seeming to curl inward. 

Rio can see the defeat on her face, the way she folds and caves under the pressure - it’s so unlike her usual. The weight of a mother’s fury pressing her down, forcing her to cave. 

Suddenly, she feels like an ass for putting her in this room, this situation. 

“Carol,” Rio steps in, her tone crips. “You are over 18. You can make your own medical decision. Technically, your mother doesn’t get to decide for you.” 

“Excuse me!” the mother snaps. “I am still her mother, despite her age!” 

“No,” comes a small voice from the hospital bed. “Mom, I know this is your religion or whatever, but it’s not mine. I’m not going to die because you don’t understand.” She pauses, watching the redness rise in her mother’s face. “I know I need to terminate.”

“We will go call OB,” Rio says definitely. She pulls Agatha gently by the shoulder, ushering her out the door. 

Out in the hallway, she closes the door just enough to create a buffer from the mother’s yelling inside. She starts walking wordlessly through the emergency room halls, out the side door and into the crisp air. 

Agatha follows silently, her shoulders tight, her hands stuffed into her white coat pockets. 

When they stop in a courtyard, the same one where Agatha faced her first patient death all those weeks ago, Rio finally turns to her.

“Hey…” Rio’s voice is careful. “That wasn’t you back there.” She keeps a measured distance, letting Agatha absorb her words. “You don’t have to cave to her. You are still the doctor in charge.” 

Agatha swallows. “I know…I just didn’t want to make her angrier." She still sounds so small. 

For a beat, they stand there, the cool evening air cutting through their white coats. Rio draws her arms around herself, trying to stay warm. 

“This isn’t about the patient anymore, is it?” Rio tests. “She’s really got a chokehold on you, doesn’t she?” She doesn’t mean the words to come out harsh, but they do. Bitter resentment toward Evanora flares in her chest. 

Agatha’s nostrils flare at her words, “She’s still my mother, Rio,” she bites back. 

“But she doesn’t have to be in charge of you,” Rio tries to keep her voice controlled but she feels herself growing angry at the situation. 

Agatha doesn’t respond, she just purses her lips. 

And Rio can’t help it, the frustration from the other night comes right back to the surface - angry and hot. “Are you really going to marry him?” 

“Do you think I have a choice?” Agatha snaps instantly. 

“Yes, you do.”

“Ha!” Agatha laughs, something bitter. “I don’t. This is so much bigger than you know. You think I can run home and tell her ‘Hey mom! Screw this engagement, I’ve been fucking my attending instead? How do you think that would go over?”

“I’m not saying to do that, Agatha!” Rio feels her voice rising. “But you can tell her no.” 

Agatha shakes her head bitterly. “I go against my mother’s wishes and she gets me kicked out of the program. And blacklisted from every residency in the country. Then what?” She spits, her cheeks flushing with anger as she balls her fists at her sides. “I’m a failed doctor. I can’t get a job or a board certification. Are you going to take me in then like some stray cat?” 

Yes, the word pulses inside Rio like a heartbeat. Instead of saying it, she steps closer, unable to stop herself despite all their fighting. Her hands frame Agatha’s face, thumbs brushing against flushed cheeks. She feels Agatha slowly soften in the grasp, her fists loosening. 

And God, the sight of those unshed tears in Agatha’s eyes nearly ruins her. 

“You are in charge of your life. You make the decisions that matter,” she tries to tell her, but Agatha instantly scoffs at her words. 

“You say that,” Agatha starts, “but it doesn’t feel like that when she’s standing over me, Rio.” 

“I know,” Rio tilts her head, like she’s helpless against the pull between them. “Just…” 

Her words fail, and fuck it, despite everything the magnetic force gets her again and she closes the distance, kissing her gently, testing. 

Agatha exhales into her mouth like a surrender, slowly melting into her like the current pulls her just as much as it does Rio. She starts pressing back, hungry. As her tongue slips into Rio’s mouth, she feels herself spiraling right back into Agatha’s gravitational pull. Her hands Agatha’s waist, finger slipping under her scrubs to brush the skin on her stomach. 

She’s thinking about rushing her toward the wall behind her, her fingers sliding into her pants to test her wetness. 

Instead, she forces herself to pull away before their public exhibition gets them both in trouble. 

Rio rests her forehead against Agatha’s as they catch their breath. 

“Go home, get some rest. I’ll finish this case,” she says as she watches Agatha lick her swollen lips. “We will start fresh tomorrow.” 

She hopes Agatha catches that she means more than just this case. That she knows she’s willing to fight for her. Day by day. 

Agatha nods as a small smile forms on her lips. “Yeah…yeah we can do that.” 

Then she heads toward the parking lot. 

—-

Rio stays too late that night - the residents have long since gone home. She should too, the resident notes needed to be signed hours ago. She just can’t seem to focus. Her brain loops every word with Agatha in the past few days. 

It feels like she is standing on train tracks. She sees the oncoming light, hears the thunder of the wheels - Agatha’s impending marriage, her mother’s grip on her life - all barreling toward her. She wants to stick out her hands to stop it. But she knows that’s impossible. So she doesn’t move, she just braces for impact. 

Rio’s pager buzzes and she grabs it, seeing the ER number. 

She frowns and calls them back. “Dr. Vidal speaking. I’m not on admissions tonight.” 

“Hold on,” the unit secretary says, ignoring her.

“Dr.Vidal!” The familiar voice of one of the long term ER attendings comes on the other line. “I’ve got a patient for you.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing the admissions tonight. Dr. Strange is.” She reaches to hang up the phone.

“Wait, wait. You are going to want to take this one.” He pauses. “She’s asking for you.”

“Okay…” Rio hesitates. She pulls out a pen and paper ready to take notes on the patient. “Go ahead, name?”

“She didn’t want me to go into detail, she just asked me to just have you come see her. Room 14.” And the line clicks dead. 

Rio doesn’t know what kind of game the emergency room is playing, but she’s a bit annoyed. She logs back onto her computer, pulling up the patient board. 

Room 14: Confidential 

Two authorizations are required before the chart will open. Rio clicks through, attempting to pull up the name. 

Jane Doe. 

Chief complaint: Multi-trauma 

Her pulse spikes a bit, unease starting to prick at her. She isn’t a trauma surgeon. This shouldn’t be her case. The best she can come up with is it’s a former patient, asking to see her again. 

Room 14 is in the corner of the ER, curtains drawn tight. It’s quiet in this corner, closed off from the usual chaos from the rest of the emergency room. 

A nurse hurries toward her. “Oh, Dr. Vidal! “I’m glad you are here. She’s been asking for you.”

“It wasn’t clear on the phone what’s going on.”

“Poor thing. She has a lung contusion, splenic laceration and three broken ribs. She has a head laceration that needs sutures too.” She glances around to make sure no one hears her. “She says it’s a car accident but that doesn’t make sense. There was no seatbelt sign, no airbag burns. Honestly, just between us, it looks like someone took a baseball bat to her…”

“I’m sorry,” Rio shakes her head trying to piece it all together. “How old did you say she was?”

“Oh I didn’t,” the nurse flips the ER paper chart open. “Umm…25.”

Rio’s heart drops. 

“I was thinking she needs to be admitted at least overnight…” the nurse starts but Rio doesn’t hear another word. 

She’s grabbing the door handle, pushing it open. 

The first thing she sees is the tubing - clear lines snaking across pale skin. A hospital gown drowns the small frame in the bed. 

A bloodstain streaks across one temple, an open laceration sits above her eyebrow. And her brown hair is tangled, splayed across the hospital pillow. 

Rio takes a step closer, further into the room.

Her chest tightens as the face comes into focus.

Her world stops.

Agatha. 

Chapter Text

Rio steps quietly into the room, softening her movements so as to not wake her. Agatha’s eyes are closed where she rests in the bed. Purple bruising paints the side of her cheek and a small, angry laceration lies open above her eyebrow. Her left arm wraps protectively around her ribs, every breath shallow and cautious. 

Rio reaches carefully, brushing her hand along her foot beneath the hospital blanket. 

“Hi,” Agatha’s eyes meet hers, looking far too large and scared, red rimming the outside. Her cheeks shine faintly where tears have tracked and dried. Even the edges of her nostrils are red and angry. “You came.”

Rio swallows hard, steadier her voice before she speaks. “Didn’t have much of a choice. You left it quite a mystery.”

“Seemed best to maintain some autonomy.”

Rio rounds the bed, planting herself along the side. She lowers the bedrail. Her tone drops, fear and anger swirling together. “Agatha, what the hell happened?” 

“Car accident,” she answers too quickly. 

“Bullshit. What did she do?” 

“Like I said,” Agatha breaks, like she’s on the verge of crying; her words coming out small. “Car accident.” 

And Rio can’t help it anymore. Agatha might not be hers. She may never get to be hers again. But in this moment, Agatha needs her. 

“Sweetheart…” The sentiment rushes out before she can stop it. But it still feels right. Her hand raises, hovering above Agatha’s bruised cheek. .

“Rio…” Agatha looks up at her, tears silently falling now. 

Rio slips her shoes off, lifting the blanket to slip into the spot next to her. She moves slowly and carefully, curling herself around Agatha’s trembling frame. Her arms gingerly move around to Agatha’s shoulders, careful not to move her too suddenly. 

“Someone could see you, you know,” Agatha murmurs even as her head finds Rio’s shoulder. 

“I don’t care.” Rio’s tone turns more serious. “You have to get out of there.”

“And what? Where would I go? I have an intern salary.”

“Come stay with me.”

“Then what? She fires you. And me.”

“And we run away together. I hear Alaska needs doctors.”

Agatha starts to let out a small laugh, but stops short, wincing at the motion. “I wouldn’t be a doctor, Rio. I’d be a residency drop out.”

“I’ll be your sugar mama then. You can take up fly fishing.” 

Agatha rests her head on Rio’s shoulder again, sighing. “That does sound nice.” 

They stay like that for a while, unmoving. The only noises are the faint sounds of Agatha’s blood pressure cuff inflating every few minutes and the slow drip of her IV fluids through the tubing. It’s as peaceful as it can be - for the hospital. 

At last, Rio tilts her head, murmuring into her hair. “I need to suture that head lac, you know.”

“Mmhmm,” Agatha murmurs with her eyes closed. “But you are so cozy.” 

Rio places a small kiss on her temple. “I’m sorry, I need to get to it before the edges start healing.”

She begins to slide out of bed, easing her way out as best she can without disturbing Agatha. She winces anyway. 

“Morphine?”

“Something. Please. It hurts to breathe.”

“I’ll be right back.” Rio squeezes her hand before stepping out to grab supplies and a nurse for the medication. 

She closes the curtain and the door behind her.

In the supply room, she gathers sutures, forceps, a vial of lidocaine, gauze and a small bandage. She flags down the nurse and orders morphine for Agatha. 

When she finally rounds the corner back to Agatha’s room, the door is cracked open, the curtains drawn wide. 

And standing at the threshold is Evanora. 

Even though it’s well into the evening, she’s still dressed like she’s stepping into the office wearing cream tailored pants with a black leather belt and a high turtleneck black sweater. She took the time to grab her hospital badge before leaving the house. 

Rio’s first instinct is to tackle her. Luckily the sensible side of her kicks in before she does. 

“Evanora,” Rio says, her voice flat and annoyed. 

Evanora crosses her arms, her gaze slides from Agatha back to her. “So you’re her attending.” 

Fuck, Rio’s throat dries. She flicks her eyes to Agatha, sticking her tongue in her cheek. She hopes Agatha realizes she’s silently asking how much Evanora knows. 

Agatha shakes her head softly.  

Rio squares her shoulders and moves to stand between Evanora and the bed. A physical shield for Agatha. “I’m her attending, tonight.”

Evanora’s mouth twists, an almost evil grin across her lips. “You know that’s not what I meant.” She steps closer, lowering her voice like she’s a predator about to devour her prey. “It’s curious, though. The way you always seem to be hovering. The way she looks at you. I’ve seen it before - in other residents; other…attachments.” She lets the word linger, poisonous. 

Her gaze slides deliberately back to Agatha. “Some people just can’t help themselves, parading around their sin like it’s salvation.” 

Agatha flinches, the words stinging. 

Rio doesn’t quite know what happens at that moment. She knows she stops thinking.  She drops the supplies onto the bedside table. Then her right hand curls into a fist, tucking in her thumb. And she swings. She’s pretty sure she hits the side of Evanora’s jaw judging by the sound.

The old woman grunts, something painful before she stumbles, falling sideways onto Agatha’s bed. 

Agatha gasps.

Rio’s knuckles start burning, pain and swelling rising instantly. 

One would expect such a small, frail woman to concede. But she rises up slowly, blood boiling. 

“You. Will. Pay. For. This.” She spits as she rises, blood droplets spraying lightly with her words. “Agatha!” She snaps. “Get your things. We are leaving.”

Silence follows. Then, “No,” comes Agatha’s voice from the bed. More steady than Rio expected. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Get out, mother. I don’t need you here. I don’t need another injury.” 

“I will call security to have you escorted out,” Rio adds. 

“Are you threatening me? In my own hospital? What are you going to tell them? That you attacked the CEO visiting her sick daughter?” She wipes the bloody spit from her lips. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Rio sees Agatha’s fingers slowly stretching across the bed, reaching for the nurse call button. She presses it discreetly. `

“At this moment, she is my patient. Not the CEO’s daughter.” 

Evanora’s hand twitches, rising slowly, palm flat. Rio feels her body tighten, head already starting to turn, bracing for the slap she knows is coming.

But before it lands, the door slides open, the nurse’s head poking in. “Is everything alright in here?” She pauses, seeing Evanora’s face, ugly purple bruising now painting her jawline. “Oh my. Ma’am, are you ok? Do you need to see a doctor?” 

“She’s fine.” Agatha answers for her. 

Rio cuts in smoothly, gesturing toward the supplies. “I need your assistance to suture Miss Harkness's laceration. She is being admitted overnight.”

The nurse nods, stepping further into the room. “I’m afraid visiting hours are over then. Can I get you an ice pack before you go?” She offers Evanora a sweet, oblivious smile, as though she has no idea who she is dismissing. 

Evanora’s lips press thin, fury sparking in her eyes. “I need her name.” 

“Oh that’s Dr. Vidal,” the nurse answers, none the wiser. 

“Perfect,” an evil smile curls on her lips before she turns on her heel, walking out the door without bothering to close it. 

Agatha finally exhales, long and shaky. Her shoulders sag, some of the fight draining out with her breath. 

“You know you can press charges,” Rio says, her tone shifting to something harder as she tears open a packet of gauze.

Agatha’s eyes flick toward the nurse now drawing lidocaine into a syringe. 

“For a car accident?” Agatha asks through gritted teeth. 

“Even for a car accident.”

“It’s not worth the effort.” 

“Agatha,” Rio’s voice lands like a warning. 

“Drop it,” Agatha whispers, her tone fragile and final all at once. “Now you better sew this up right, even with a bad hand. I can’t have this beautiful face scarred up.”

Rio smiles before starting to work. Silence fills the room apart from the sound of packages ripping, bandages opening. Agatha only winces once, as Rio injects the numbing agent into her skin. Otherwise she taps away at her phone. Rio catches a glimpse of her message - Agatha telling Billy she won’t be in tomorrow, blaming her so-called car accident. 

Once the sutures are done, Rio strides over to the mobile computer, drawing up Agatha’s discharge paperwork. She unhooks Agatha’s monitors, the bleeping slowly dying away. 

Then she reaches for Agatha’s clothes, ready to help her dress, but Agatha freezes, eyebrows lifted.  

“I thought you said I’m staying overnight?”

“You are,” Rio smiles, “at my place.” 

“Rio, we can’t do that.”

“Yes we can. She can’t open your chart. It’s a HIPAA violation. And even she isn’t stupid enough to pull that.” 

“She’s going to fire you,” Agatha warns. 

“Then I’ll move to Alaska. It was worth it.” 

Rio grabs a wheelchair from the hallway, crouching to lock the brakes. Then she reaches around to untie Agatha’s gown, carefully, lifting her arms to slip her into a shirt and squats next to the bed to shimmy her pants up her legs. When she offers Agatha her hand, she stands slowly hissing as Rio steadies her, lowering her into the seat. 

Rio pushes her through the sliding glass doors and out into the dim parking lot, mostly empty at this hour. Once Rio has her settled in the passenger seat, she rounds to the driver’s side. 

As they start to drive away, out of the hospital parking lot, the glow of Agatha’s phone lights up on her lap. Agatha flips it over in one sharp motion, silencing the buzz. 

—

“Hungry?” Rio asks, once she settles Agatha onto her couch. She’s changed into a borrowed oversized t-shirt and boxers. A fuzzy blanket cocooned around her shoulders. 

“I can try,” Agatha says dryly. 

Rio brushes a hand over the top of her head, quick, almost shy in the way she does it. She wants to sink down into the cushions next to her, cradle her close, like she did in the hospital. This feels more intimate somehow, Agatha in her space, Rio offering to nurse her back to health. 

She hesitates next to her before stepping into the kitchen to pull pots and pans from the cabinet. A bag of rice and a carton of chicken follow. Then she grabs an ice pack, placing it over her sore knuckles as she cooks.

From the couch, Agatha watches her in silence for a few minutes. She works methodically, trimming and seasoning the chicken before placing it in a pan. She sets the rice to boil. 

“You know how to cook?” Agatha finally asks. 

“It’s nothing fancy. Just seasoned chicken and rice. Figured you might want something mild tonight. Plus,” Rio holds up her right hand, slightly swollen and bruised. 

Agatha lets out a small huff that could be amusement or disbelief. “I’m usually one for take-out.” 

“Not the chef type?”

“Hey now, I can boil an egg.”

“I’ll remember that tomorrow morning,” Rio tosses out casually before she feels the blush rising in her cheeks at her words. 

Agatha smiles, tucking the blanket tighter around herself. 

Rio plates two portions, carrying the plates next to Agatha on the couch. She hands her one, followed by a glass of water and pain medication. 

Agatha accepts them silently, but then as they start eating, Agatha’s phone lights up again. She shoves it quickly beneath the blanket, silencing it with her thumb.

Rio wants to give her the space to heal - physically and emotionally. But she still worries about what hooks Evanora has in her. Hell, she doesn’t even know what Agatha said that led Evanora to this level of crazy. 

“Do you want to tell me who keeps calling?” Rio asks. “It isn’t her…is it?” 

“It’s nothing,” Agatha deflects, too quickly. “TV?” She pivots, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. 

“Sure,” Rio drags her hesitation through the word. Still something scratches at her and won’t let go. She forces herself not to pry, not yet anyway. As much as Agatha shut her down at the resident retreat, clearly something changed tonight. Something she wants to be privy of. 

Agatha flips through the channels mindlessly, running the gamut of channels twice. Then she abandons them for streaming menus, clicking without focus. Her eyes are glassy, detached.

Her phone buzzes again, more insistent. This time, when she silences it, she peers at Rio, seeing her watching the motion out of the corner of her eye. 

“It’s Ralph,” she finally admits. “My mother must have called him. She’s convinced if I spend enough time with him, it will ‘turn me.’” She punctuates it with a bitter pair of air quotes. 

And now that she has her alone, now that she knows the truth, Rio can’t help but ask more. “Do you talk to him a lot?”

“I used to complain to him about my mom. When I had no one else.”

“And now?”

“I’d like to think I have you.”

Rio smiles, reaching her arm out to thread it around her shoulders, drawing her closer. “You do.” 

A beat passes before she probes again. “Do you wanna talk about what happened?”

Agatha keeps her eyes on the muted TV, despite settling into Rio’s side. “Not particularly.”

“I lost a patient to abuse once.”

Agatha’s head jerks toward her, startled. Her shoulders tighten beneath Rio’s arm. “I’m not abused.”

“I didn’t say that you were,” Rio answers softly. “I’m telling you a story.” She takes a deep breath, her mind going back to that night. “It was an infant. A few weeks old at best. The father shook him for crying too much. How does someone injure their own child? Their own flesh and blood.”

Agatha is quiet for a long time, her jaw working silently. “I think you will find that being their own flesh makes them hate them even more. When you don’t turn out the way you expected. When they’re not the person you wanted them to be.”

“That doesn’t make it your fault.” Rio’s chest aches at the bitterness in Agatha’s voice. 

Agatha straightens a little, lifting her chin in defiance. “I’m strong, okay? I’ve survived this for years.”

“I know you’re strong. Clearly,” Rio squeezes her shoulder. “You got through medical school. You’re one of the best residents in the program. Not because of your mother, but in spite of her. You’re a good doctor Agatha. You’re a better person.”

Agatha offers a small smile. “I didn’t mention you, you know. If that’s what you were worried about.”

“I’m not. And it doesn’t matter if you did.”

Agatha shifts, her voice dropping to something fragile. “I told her I don’t wanna marry him.” She keeps her gaze forward. 

Rio holds her breath. “What was her response?”

Agatha points to her sutured eyebrow, dried blood is caked along the bandage, bruising peeking through the edges. “Lesbians don’t become CEO’s, Agatha,” she uses a mocking tone. 

“Beth Ford, Leanne Pittsford.”

“Who?”

“Marsha Johnson, Stormé DeLarverie?”

Agatha gives her a blank look. 

Rio sighs, “Jesus, sometimes I forget you are 25. How about Renee Rapp, Chappell Roan, Lucy Dacus?”

“Better.” Agatha smirks. 

Rio shakes her head. “But for what it’s worth,” she leans into her again, her lips brushing her temple. “I’m proud of you for finding your voice.” 

Agatha snuggles closer, her reply so quiet, Rio barely hears it, “I am too.”

It takes only a few minutes before they are both yawning, the weight of the day starting to press down on them, creeping into their bones.

Rio guides her gently toward the bedroom, handing over the extra toothbrush she’s kept since Agatha’s last visit. When they return, she piles pillows high against the headboard. “You’ll be more comfortable like this, if you can sleep sitting up a little bit.” 

Agatha starts to huff a protest, but her body betrays her. She sinks into the cushiony pile as soon as she climbs into the bed, finally relaxing.

—

“Are you asleep?” Agatha’s voice drifts softly through the dark, breaking the hush of the room. 

“I was,” Rio groans, rolling toward her. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

Agatha nods, Rio can feel the movement between them. 

Rio grabs her phone from the nightstand, squinting at the time, it’s well after 2am. “You’re not due for more pain medication for another hour and a half. I can get a heating pad.” 

“It’s not that kind of pain,” her tone edged with suggestion. 

“Oh no, we are not doing that. You are injured. You need to spend time and energy getting better.”

“Please,” Agatha pleads. “Just one tiny orgasm. I’ll even stay sitting up. Look,” she gestures to her legs, half-propped up on the bed. “I’m in the perfect position.”

And damn, how can Rio refuse her? Even in the middle of the night, her hair thrown up in a sloppy bun that she tied with one hand, no makeup on. She looks gorgeous.

“Fine,” Rio gives in. “One orgasm. But I’m going to be extra gentle.”

“Just give me your mouth already,” She laughs, grabbing Rio’s wrist, tugging her closer. 

Rio melts into her with a kiss against Agatha’s lips before trailing lower. She slides the borrowed boxers down her thighs and nestles between her legs, breathing her in. 

Agatha parts her legs slowly, invitingly, as Rio strokes her folds, opening her with steady fingers. Then her tongue finds her - slow and savoring the taste of her arousal. Her tongue works through her, circling, deliberate and unhurried circles around her clit.  

Agatha’s hips buck up involuntarily, a ragged breath escaping her throat. Her head falls against the propped up pillows, her eyes squeeze shut as Rio licks along her, pressing her tongue into her entrance. 

Her tongue continues swirling, licking, circling before she flattens her tongue along her clit, adding pressure. She sucks hard at her clit, pulling just a little as she does because she knows that spot, the motion that drives her wild. 

Another wave of arousal seeps out of her and Rio savors every drop. She knows her body’s secrets now, like a language. She knows the location that will send her flying, that drives her mad, the kind of teasing she looks, her look when she’s about to come. 

“Fuck,” Agatha grinds into her, her hips circling against Rio’s chin. 

She’s rewarded again with a deep moan as Agatha threads her fingers through Rio’s hair. But she isn’t holding her there, she’s not pressing her into her cunt harder. Instead she’s brushing the strands away from her face, moving them in a way that seems reverent, delicate. 

And then it doesn’t feel like fucking. 

Not this time.

It’s gentle strokes and thigh caresses. It’s Agatha’s hand, now reaching down between her legs, linking her fingers through Rio’s hand to hold her close. 

It feels dangerously close to making love. 

“Rio,” she breathes, her voice breaking with her name. 

Rio looks up at her from between her thighs expecting to find Agatha with her head back, eyes squeezed shut. But instead she’s looking down at her. Eyes open, glassy and defenseless in a way she never allows herself to be. She’s watching her, tilting her head, her lips slightly open, chest heaving. 

Something blooms in Rio’s chest, threatening to overwhelm her with the intensity of it. When she can’t take it anymore, she dives down, tilting her head, breaking eye contact. 

She focuses her attention on her movements, driving Agatha closer to the edge, pressing her tongue deeper, licking, sucking, coaxing the wetness from her.         

Agatha’s breaths start to become more shallow and uneven and Rio knows she’s close. She can feel her drip down her chin, throbbing against her tongue. She focuses on her clit, pressing into it, sucking hard until Agatha starts to grow more frenzied, the edges of control fraying. Her hand breaks free of Rio’s fingers to thread under her shirt, pinching and pulling at her nipple. 

Her release takes her suddenly, like a wave rushing into the shore. Her thighs tighten around Rio’s head, toes curling as her hips rise. She exhales, a rough string of yes, yes across her lips. Rio’s mouth works her through it, unrelenting, letting out a low, satisfied hum as she cleans her up. 

Finally as Agatha’s body sags and collapses back into the pillows, Rio turns, wiping her chin with her forearm. She plants a kiss along her inner thigh before settling into the spot next to her in bed. 

Her chest aches with the unspokeness of what just happened; the unexpected tenderness of the moment, the way the lust blurred into something softer. 

When Agatha rises and pushes herself up slowly, Rio is already moving, sliding off the bed to steady her with an outstretched hand. She leans in, kissing her slowly, the taste of her still heavy on her tongue. 

“Bathroom,” Agatha gestures, stepping toward the door. 

Rio nods, watching her retreat. She sinks back onto the mattress, reaching for a glass of water on her nightstand. 

One thought crowds her throat, loud and echoing in her brain. Desperate and dangerous.  She fears it will slip free when Agatha returns. She swallows the rest of her water, hoping to swallow the words along with it.

The door creaks as Agatha makes her way back into the bed, slipping in next to Rio. She turns to curl along Rio’s side, her head resting on her chest. 

“I feel better,” she murmurs. 

“Good.” 

Agatha’s eyes are already fluttering closed, her limbs growing heavy against Rio’s chest. Within minutes, her breathing evens out, soft and steady. 

Rio lies there for a long time in the dark, staring at the ceiling. And still, she aches to say more, the words bubbling up within her. She can feel herself slipping deeper into Agatha’s pull, an undertow she no longer wants to escape from. 

“I think I love you,” she whispers into the dark. 

She’s met with only silence. 

—

The morning light streams through Rio’s blinds, hitting her eyes. 

Agatha is still asleep next to her, curled softly to her side, one hand resting protectively over her injured ribs.

Rio climbs out of bed slowly, not wanting to disturb her. She’s already decided she will stay home with her today - making sure Agatha stays fed and well-medicated. Maybe she’ll even take the rest of the week off.

She grabs her laptop from the nightstand and pads into the kitchen. As turns on the coffee pot before settling at the table to pull up her call schedule. She skims down the list of names, looking to see who is on call to cover her shifts. 

But before she can land on one, her phone buzzes against the wood, making her jump. The number is unfamiliar, though the area code looks oddly like the hospital. 

“Dr. Vidal.” She answers. 

On the other end, a voice clears her throat. 

“Dr. Vidal, this is Sharon Davis,” she sounds clipped, almost rehearsed. 

“Yes?” Rio hesitates. She can feel the air shift on the other line, tension building. Sharon inhales sharply.

“I regret to inform you that effective immediately, you are suspended without pay.” 

“Excuse me,” Rio tries not to raise her voice. “What exactly am I being suspended for?” 

“Umm,” She pauses as she hears Sharon clicking in the background. “The email says due to professional misconduct. And it appears to have come from the top, the c-suite.”

Of fucking-course it did. 

“Sharon, you know this is completely baseless. There has never been so much as a patient complaint against me!” 

“I know,” Sharon drops her voice low, careful no one can hear her. “If it was me, I’d be obtaining a lawyer. The whole thing smells a bit fishy.” Then her tone changes back to a formal cadence. “I will be sending through an email for you to sign as well. Stating you understand the suspension and you will not contact any residents for the foreseeable future.”

Rio can feel the color drain from her face. Followed by her blood starting to boil. She knew it might happen but hearing it firsthand feels even worse - Evanora went after her job, her livelihood. And she clearly thinks this will keep her away from Agatha…if only she knew. 

The line clicks dead. 

“God dammit!” She slams the phone onto the table, the crack of glass sharp against the wood. 

“Rio,” comes Agatha’s sleepy voice as she treads into the kitchen. “Is everything ok?”

—