Bear

Chapter 4: Birdie

"Uh Doc, how long is this gonna take exactly? I was hoping this would be a plaster situation." Bear calls out to me, hoarse and gravelly, stopping me before I can reach the door. I force myself to ignore the way that he sounds, and to focus on more important things, like my job. 

I curse silently, wanting to be away from him— away from his stupid tattoos, and stupid beard, and stupid smirk that make me feel like a freaking hormonal pre-teen all over again. 

"You'll be here for the next few hours at the very least, I want to run a blood panel and that wound is gonna need to be restitched." I tell him, pretending to be caught up with something on his chart. 

A flood of guilt washes over me, just because he's distracting doesn't mean I should not do my job properly. I look up with a warm, sympathetic smile. "You got anyone you wanna call? Wife, kid, friend?" 

"Yeah actually." He grunts, and I try not to look too disappointed. He must catch the way that my face falls a little because he sends a wink my way, pointing to the Reapers patch on his cut beside him. "The only old lady I got is this one right here." 

I feel the corners of my lips twitching upwards, turning before he could notice the stupid look threatening to break on my face. 

Judging by the growing smirk on his face, I'm fairly certain he's already seen. 

"Well then, you better let her know you'll be gone for a while."

***

The cool counter at the reception desk presses into my palms. My feet, back and neck all ache; my brain practically rattling in my skull from the noisy chatter of the busy emergency clinic. 

A heavy sigh deflates my lungs, the overwhelming need to sit down pulling at my thighs. Only, I don't have time to sit down. 

"So who's the biker dude?" Alina, one of the receptionists raises her brows with interest. She leans back in her seat trying to peek into the exam room that I left Bear lying in. 

I just shrug, not really interested in feeding her insatiable appetite for anything remotely close to gossip.

Besides, I think it's in both mine and Bear's interest to keep our midnight rendezvous to ourselves. 

"Really, he seemed like he knew you." Alina prods, fishing for something from me. "Kept on mumbling about the pretty Doctor with the nose ring before you swept him away." 

"I don't know what to tell you," I shrug once more, flicking through the symptoms of the patients waiting in reception hoping it would end the conversation. 

The two most notable cases are a lady who complained of chest pains, and another gentleman in severe pain suffering with a gnarly broken leg. They both need to be prioritised. 

The woman — Ms Khan— will need an ECG, and the man, depending on how bad the break is, could need surgery. Though I'm fairly certain pain management is the only thing currently sitting at the top of his priority list. 

Both could be fairly simple to manage, but we're currently at full capacity with less staff than desirable. Just trying to see each patient feels like a battle. 

I almost want to sigh with how overwhelming it is but I know that if I stop to think about it I'll distract myself from my actual job, and just waste more time that I already don't have. 

Alina's syrupy sweet tone pours into my ear shamelessly, pulling me from my distraction. 

"Look if you're not interested, I'd willingly tap that… You wouldn't be mad if I tried it on with him would you?" She bites down on her pink sparkly nail.