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One
Andrew sits in the gallery watching Maggie operate and he isn't managing to hide his trifecta of humiliation: personal, professional, and public. Stephanie knows that face. Jackson made her make it. She'd only ever heard people talk about how awful April had been to Matthew, but the fact was Jackson had dumped Stephanie that day, too. Most of her coworkers had been nice enough not to say anything to her face, but she was sure in private plenty of people had picked apart exactly what it was that April did for him that she just didn't do.
Jackson had wasted her time. He'd pretended they'd had something, pretended he respected her, but it had all been a show. They say actions speak louder than words, but both cuts will make you bleed. Maggie had talked the end of her relationship with Andrew to death with half the attendings in the hospital.
Stephanie sits down next to him and waits for him to speak, but he doesn't and her eagerness for conversation feels embarrassing. It finally gets the best of her, and for lack of something appropriate to say, she offers him a stick of gum.
He takes it and as he's unwrapping it mutters, "So on top of everything else I've got bad breath, too."
"No," she says. Guilt squeezes the air out of her chest and her words trip over themselves. "It's not that. You just look miserable."
He forces a smile that might work on someone else in a dimly lit bars at last call and whispers, "So meet me in an on-call room and make me smile."
He leaves. She doesn't follow.
***
Two
They're friends at the moment, so when Jo pauses to breathe during her string of complaints about Alex Stephanie says, "At least you've got a man in your bed. I can barely remember the last time I did."
Jo counters, "It's half an hour of pleasure, if you can even stay awake until he gets home, but it costs you hours and hours of emotional crisis."
"So you're saying I should just get a boy toy?"
A cheery male voice says, "I'm free."
She hadn't heard Andrew come up behind them and his voice is her first notice that he's there.
He continues, "The sex is great. Soulless, but great. I can provide references."
She gives him a tight smile, trying to hide that his pain is so great it reaches out from him and hurts her, too. "I'll keep that in mind, but it's not really what I'm looking for."
"Me either," he says. "But apparently it's what I can offer."
***
Three
Stephanie likes to stay close and listen to the show when Isaac is being a dorky little puppy. Right now he's enthusiastically quizzing Andrew about his date, and it's the most ridiculous thing she's heard in since the last time Isaac tried to pass for an adult.
"So did you kiss her?" Isaac's eyes are wide and eager, ready to live vicariously through Andrew.
Andrew is grinning, and it's possibly the first genuine smile she's seen from him since the break up. "A gentleman never talks," he says.
"Thought you swore you only worked in the light now," Isaac says.
Andrew's grin flickers and Isaac's collapses. Little brother didn't mean to hurt his hero, but even a plastic sword can do damage if you swing it hard and fast.
Stephanie jumps in to save the interns from themselves. "A gentleman chooses his words carefully. You can tell people if you kissed her. You can even tell friends what base you're on as long as you're respectful and leave out the details." To Andrew she orders, "So spill it."
Isaac seems genuinely puzzled when he asks, "Isn't it giving everything away if you say you're on -" His voice drops to a whisper. "- third base?"
Andrew sneaks a glance at Stephanie and they're both fighting down smiles. Isaac is a likable guy and he's always willing to do his share of the work, but he's naive in the extreme. The temptation to mess with him is strong, as is the urge to make him blush. Stephanie bites her lip and shakes her head. She's too close to all out laughter, and if they start pushing Isaac's buttons she'll laugh in his face. It's crueler than she wants to be.
"I didn't kiss her," Andrew says.
"Why not?" Isaac asks.
"The connection wasn't there."
Isaac looks down at his shoes. "There will be other girls," he says sadly.
Andrew pats him on the shoulder. "There already are. Hey, Edwards. You want to hit the on-call room with me?"
Stephanie turns to leave without comment, but she can't help but notice Isaac perking up as she leaves.
Interns.
***
Four
It had been an amazing surgery, a fifteen hour adrenaline rush, but now Stephanie had to move on from it. She's due back at work in three hours even though she hasn't left the building in over 48. "I'm exhausted but too keyed up to sleep," she complains.
"You know what relaxes me?" Andrew teases.
Normally she doesn't mind their banter. He's been around long enough to prove his competence and he's been put through the wringer by an attending. He's one of them even if he is only a first year. At this moment though, she's not in the mood for it. "Do you have a thing for black girls or something?" she snaps.
"I like a woman who knows not to mess with the hair. I didn't just roll out of bed like this."
She looks at his mass of curls and can't help but laugh. He's past due for a haircut and he's gelled his hair into place in a way that looks casual but isn't. Poor boy can't even get away with a ponytail at work. Thank God.
"On-call three is empty," he says.
"I'm going. You can round on my post ops."
***
Five
Jo is adamant. She's dug her heels into her argument and she's not letting up. "Andrew likes you. Likes you likes you. And he's a decent guy. You should go for it."
"Just because he's the only boy in this band doesn't mean I have to be a groupie," Stephanie answers. "Besides, he's too young."
"He wasn't too young for Pierce."
"And look how that turned out."
Jo yells Andrew's name across the station, catching his attention before he can turn and enter the patient room. He pauses to look at them and then lifts the blood draw kit, indicating that he's on a mission.
"Get over here," Jo orders.
When he's in front of them she asks, "How old are you?"
"Twenty-nine."
"Really?" Jo says.
It's more of a knowing comment than a question and the expression she tosses at Stephanie irritates her. If Steph hadn't gained so much experience with frenemies in high school she'd have cut Jo off their first year. As it is they're best friends who drive each other insane.
"Why are you so old?" Stephanie asks Andrew.
"I paid my own way for school. Couldn't get financial aid at first because they counted my parents' income even though I didn't get any of it. It takes longer when you only take a couple of classes per term and work full time."
"So when do you turn thirty and catch up with Steph?" Jo asks.
"Two weeks."
"We should do something for your birthday," Jo says.
"I don't have a lot of storage space, so experiences make better gifts than things." He gives Stephanie his gleeful pervert smile and she knows what's coming before he even says it.
She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. On-call room. I know."
He laughs, grabs the blood draw kit, and heads off to see his patient.
***
Six
The page reads, "On-call three. NOW." It's Stephanie and his heart speeds up. He's constantly asking her to meet him in the on-call room, but it's just a joke, safe because he knows the answer is no. This isn't what he wants. He's sworn never to have this kind of relationship again. No more booty calls.
She's his friend, his actual friend, not his kind-of-a-friend-but-mostly-benefits, and he's not willing to lose her just for the quick hit of oxytocin and prolactin that an orgasm would bring. She's beautiful though, he can't deny that, and she has sharp edges. A no might do as much damage as a yes.
He's still debating how to handle it when he opens the door to the room. The first thing he notices, before he's even spotted her, is that she has the window blinds open and the overhead lights off. It's a trick to make it feel more like a private room and less like a hospital. The smell hits him next. Oregano. Basil. Rosemary. They have the clean scent of fresh herbs, not the dehydrated, rehydrated, and cooked to death smell of cafeteria food.
"Leave the door open," she orders.
He spots her then sitting at the small table against the wall. There's a stack of styrofoam take out boxes, and she's rolled two chairs in here, too. "Get over here and get to work on your birthday feast. We've got surgery in half an hour."
She opens the first box and it's a glorious mess of antipasti. Cured meats, good cheeses, and olives glisten. It's from somewhere expensive and genuinely Italian, too. Americans usually can't stand that much fat and oil.
"Where'd you get this?"
"I ordered from DiMarco's. They're supposed to be the best, and you only turn 30 once." She pushes the box of antipasti towards him. "Is that really how they do it back home?"
He nods appreciatively and plucks an olive from the open box. It's the perfect texture, not overly brined and destroyed by processing and storage the way the cheap ones are. "Thank you."
"I just ordered the celebration meal for two. I don't even know what some of this is. There's a lot of it, though."
There's a sound from the hallway, and he glimpses Isaac's blonde head through the doorway as he scurries away down the hall. "Maybe we should call some of the others in to help."
"There's food. They'll turn up. They can have the leftovers while we're in surgery."
"We have a surgery?"
"I have surgery. You get to hold the suction tube and close. You may be 30, but you're still an intern."
She hands him the card she's made and his eyes widen when he looks at the cover image. The tumor is huge and complex. It's going to take hours, and the odds that Andrew will end up needing to do more than hold the suction tube are high. "Happy birthday."
A noise from the door catches her attention and she turns to face their friends. "Quit lurking like a bunch of vultures."
Isaac steps into the room, but Jo grabs his shoulder and stops him. "When's cake?" she asks.
"Twenty minutes or so."
"We'll be back. You need anything before then, just let me know."
Andrew's pager goes off, and when he takes it out Stephanie grabs it and checks the message. To Jo she says, "Send Cross to see what Pierce needs and tell her that Andrew is scrubbing in with me. And Shepherd. She doesn't need to page him again."
Jo's love of drama shows in her smile, and her gleeful, "Well OK then," only confirms that she's interpreted what Stephanie said in her own way.
"Don't make too much of this," Stephanie says, although it's not clear who she's directing the comment to.
When their spectators have gone Andrew says, "The food is great, and the tumor looks amazing. It takes a lot of thought to give a gift this perfect."
"I can be thoughtful."
"I know."
"Cautious," she says.
"I know."
"I don't make the same mistake twice."
"I'm not getting older, I'm getting better."
She swallows a mouthful of pasta then says, "You were already pretty good."
He gives her that smile, the one that's supposed to be a tease but he doesn't tease anyone else the same way.
"I don't just give it away," she says. "You have to earn it."
He's silent for a minute, then quietly he says, "I don't know how. I've never really had to work for it. Maybe that's why I've never been able to keep it."
"You can learn all kinds of things at Grey Sloan if you're willing to put in the work."
"And if you can find someone who's willing to tell you what you need to know."
She opens a styrofoam box, glances at the heavy cream sauce, and closes it again. The next box has some sort of bean, meat, and pasta combination. It looks like good fuel for a long day. "It's like surgery. You have to know what your goal is, and you have to know when you need to ask for guidance." She takes a bite and closes her eyes as she chews. It's good, meant to be savored as part of a long, slow meal. Unfortunately she doesn't have that kind of time. "What's your goal?"
"Get married, have some kids, and lead a happy life."
It's so blunt, so basic, she's not even startled by the admission. It's what two-thirds of the hospital wants.
"I just don't know how to get from here to there," he says.
"Slowly," she answers.
"I can go slowly." He's on that line between serious and flirting again, and in the soft light spilling through the window she can see how those bedroom eyes have made him into a sprinter with no idea how to do a long distance run.
She loads her fork with another bite but pauses with it in midair. "If I were to ever decide to sleep with you our first time would not be a quickie in an on-call room."
"So does that mean I should stop hitting on you?"
"Nah. I like being reminded that I'm hot, but if you want me to take you seriously you need to up your game. Don't just be a little horndog. Compliment my surgical skill, too. My brain. Tell me how amazing I am as a person."
He gestures to the meal. "This was the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long time. You're great."
"Good effort," she says.
"So do I get a birthday kiss?"
"If it's important to you I guess you can have one." He leans toward her and she quickly pulls back. "No tongue."
His lips brush gently over hers and she tenses, expecting him to push for more. He is sexy and there is a spark between them. It wouldn't take much for it to catch fire. He doesn't though. He's tender and tentative and it makes her ache for what he's not doing even though she was the one to set the limits. She feels young, longing for what's just out of reach, and she curses herself for her stupid no tongue comment. They're thirty, not twelve, even if her stomach is fluttering like it hasn't since her first kiss.
He pulls back and she sees everything she's feeling reflected back to her in his eyes. Quietly he says, "We should do this again. Next time I'll buy dinner."
"We should," she agrees.
She sees movement near the open door, evidence of their audience, and calls out, "Cake time."
Isaac, Penny, and Jo spill into the room and Stephanie holds up a finger to silence them. "Say a word and you get no cake."
Isaac speaks anyway. "If you want more time..."
"You get to solo Cross. 'Happy Birthday.' Sing it. Now."
He does, and his voice is every bit as thin and warbly as she'd expected it to be. They join in after the first two lines, the three women rounding out the song as Andrew smiles so widely his eyes crinkle. Her squad. Her possibility.
It's the most genuine affection she's ever felt in an on-call room. Yes. She definitely wants to do this again.