October 25 2019
AJ Sanchez glanced at the clock on the surgical board.
12:47 PM. She was already seventeen minutes behind schedule, but for once, it wasn't a consult, a case, or a coding patient keeping her from her next appointment.
It was lunch With Dave.
She pulled off her gloves, scrubbed quickly, and stepped out of Neuro OR 3 with sharp precision in her stride. Her ponytail was still tight, her scrub top somehow unwrinkled. Not even three AVM cases back-to-back could shake the calm she wore like armor.
Dave was already waiting in the staff café alcove—a tucked-away booth with slightly-too-bright lighting and questionably warm paninis.
He smiled when he saw her, standing to greet her with that familiar warmth that made her spine unclench, just a little.
Dave - Hey, Doc
he said, handing her a coffee just the way she liked it.
Dave -You survived the morning?
AJ - Barely
AJ muttered, sliding into the booth.
Aj-If one more resident tries to explain a CT scan to *me*
She was cut off by the sound of rapid footsteps. The unmistakable flustered shuffle of interns trying not to panic but absolutely panicking.
Parker - Dr. Sanchez!
AJ closed her eyes for a beat.
AJ -Of course.
Parker, tall and wiry, appeared first—red-cheeked and clearly sweating under pressure. April, short, wide-eyed, clutching a folder like it might bite her, followed close behind.
Both wore the navy-blue trim of Dr. Shepard's service, not hers.
AJ raised one eyebrow as she sipped her coffee.
AJ - You're not mine.
April - We know
April said quickly.
April- We're on Dr. Shepard's rotation this week—Neuro-adjacent—but he said if it's vascular and scary and he doesn't want to deal with it...
Parker - ...We page you
Parker finished, out of breath.
Dave leaned back, amused.
Dave - Can't even get 20 minutes of peace with you, huh?
AJ shot him a look.
AJ -Don't act surprised.
Turning to the interns, she held out a hand.
AJ- Chart.
April passed the file over like she was handing a weapon to a general.
Parker - Thirty-year-old woman
Parker explained.
Parker-Sudden-onset facial droop and aphasia in pre-op. CT was clear but her EEG's abnormal, and her BP's tanking. No trauma. Dr. Shepard thinks it's a vascular malformation, possibly—
AJ-a pseudo-aneurysm
AJ said, already flipping through the notes, eyes scanning rapidly.
AJ- If this ruptures before we get her to angio, she bleeds out in under five minutes.
April paled- We thought it might be—"
AJ - You thought
AJ cut in sharply, standing already,
Aj- but you weren't sure, which is why I'm going to fix it and you're going to watch.
She handed her half-drunk coffee back to Dave, who took it with a knowing sigh.
Dave- Rain check?
he asked softly.
AJ paused just long enough to lean down and kiss his cheek.
AJ -I'll make it up to you tonight. Mateo's still in daycare until five.
Parker blinked- Wait—*you have a kid?
AJ didn't even break stride.
AJ - Parker you know what just shut up
she said over her shoulder, her voice calm but steel-edged.
AJ - And somehow, I still have time to clean up your mess.
April mouthed- Holy crap.
Parker just ran to keep up.
Dave watched her disappear down the hall like a storm in scrubs, then pulled out his phone and texted her:
> Dave : Reminder – you're amazing, terrifying, and lunchable. I'll reheat the sandwich. 😘
Her reply came just before she entered the OR:
> AJ: Save me a bite. And a minute to breathe. ❤️
