A/N: Jasia AU in which Zosia never wanted to be a psychiatrist and Jac was her mentor for the surgical rotation not Sacha. (I'm not an avid Holby fan, I just like the ship, sorry for inaccuracies but at the end of the day this is fiction and the ship isn't cannon..)
Flexing the tight muscles in her back to ease the painful crick in her spine, Zosia March exhaled deeply and bought her forehead to rest against the cold metal locker she stood before. The very moment she stepped off of the wards and into the quiet haven of the scrub room, she became immediately aware of the stiffness in her neck and the dull ache of fatigue that spread from her fingertips to her toes. Luckily the room was empty, nobody around to judge her momentary lapse of composure. The room was dimly lit but Zosia welcomed the darkness as it stood in stark contrast to the glaring light on the wards.
Three weeks into her foundation year placement at Holby General and it was not getting any easier. The physical exertion and mental demands of the job upon junior doctors was beyond anything Zosia had imagined at med school. Something her neurosurgeon father also failed to mention. As an undergraduate she was always itching to swap essays for hands-on experience and now faced with almost back to back 12-hour shifts she chided her naïve enthusiasm.
Two of her classmates, much weaker than Zosia had already been broken by the system. Both buckled under the pressure of unreasonable expectation and unprecedented responsibility and opted for the easy way out. In a perverse way, their premature departures actually strengthened Zosia's willpower to continue. She would be a good doctor, she would. Mamma would be proud.
Holby General presented an additional and unique challenge to all aspiring doctors who secured placements there in the form of surgical mentor and clinical lead Jac Naylor. Zosia had watched in mute horror as the weakest of the junior doctors in her consortium received a tirade of torrid verbal abuse from the intimidating woman for a botched cannula. When fixed with the icy glare of Ms Naylor for even the most insignificant of mistakes, men and women alike were rendered immobile.
The elegant poise and overwhelming power of Jac Naylor quite literally knocked the breath out of Zosia. She was the embodiment of Zosia's dream and short of adolescent hero-worshipping Zosia knew the woman was the key to her future.
Raising her head up from the cool metal surface, Zosia tugged off her scrubs and stowed them in the locker. A quick glance at her watch told her she'd probably get 4 hours sleep if she left soon. Any despair she felt at the situation was quickly overcome by the overarching ambition upon which her heart, mind and soul were set. Doctor Zosia March. She echoed the mantra silently under her breath as she wound her scarf around her neck and prepared to step out into the sharp cold of the November dawn. She continued to mutter the title, as if the power of the belief in the words could heal her painful body. So engrossed by her spiritual self-recuperation, Zosia carelessly stepped into the path of Jac Naylor. Her shoulder collided roughly with the older woman's chest, the stack of files in her arms scattered the hall.
"Ms Naylor! I.. Er.. So sorry!"
Humiliation crept up Zosia's neck, prickling at her skin and tinging her cheeks a burning scarlet. She prepared herself for the sharp disciplinary tongue and when it didn't immediately come, panic caught in her throat. She dropped to her knees to quickly gather the papers, not wanting to cause too much of a scene just in case any other F1's were in the vicinity to witness the inevitable scathing repercussion.
Standing again, files retrieved, Zosia found herself dangerously within Jac's personal space. The older woman's poker straight copper hair actually fluttered, disturbed by the close proximity of Zosia's nervous heavy breath. Jac slipped the stack of files from Zosia's arms still in stony silence. The weight of her glare was oppressive. Heavier than any verbal abuse could transfer, her gaze was hard and unbroken with Zosia's own.
"Watch where you're going, stupid girl." She finally uttered.
Zosia's eyes were drawn instantly to the way the words were delivered like bullets from a shotgun, perfectly formed from a mouth mere centimetres from her own.
Zosia absorbed them all, they pierced her thick skin but did not penetrate too deeply. She was not weak, not like the others. She unabashedly stared long after Jac had knitted her brows together in a frown and pushed on past Zosia without a moments further regard for her. The humiliation finally settled in the pit of Zosia's empty stomach, reminding her she hadn't eaten since her break 6 hours ago. She stalked towards the exit, the crisp air soothing her flaming cheeks.
All of a sudden Zosia's willpower and drive at work which had once been utilitarian and completely rational, became laced with a private determination to impress Jac Naylor, prove to her that she was not just a 'stupid girl.' She found her mind wandered to thoughts about the consultant far too often. The woman had cheekbones for days.
Her cohort of F1's were about to start their four month surgery rotation under the supervision of a number of surgeons including Ms Naylor and Zosia knew her strengths lay here. On her break, while the others squabbled over doughnuts and caught up with the latest hospital gossip, Zosia sought out a quiet corner to bury her head in a textbook. It wasn't that she disliked her colleagues, in social situations outside of the workplace they'd all become firm friends. Zosia was just so preoccupied with her strive to success that she became a stickler for professionalism. The squabble broke out into a childish play fight and the door to the staff room swung open just as the incriminating packet ripped in half, sending a shower of sugar granules into the air.
"What am I looking at here?" Jac Naylor snapped, her hands planted firmly on her hips. The three F1's involved in the fight looked between each other and the mess with wide eyes, stammering incoherent excuses.
"Save it. Just clean this up and get back to work. You are all worse than children." Her icy blue eyes roamed the room and clocked Zosia, trying her hardest to appear disassociated from the chaos caused by her colleagues.
"You. F1?"
Zosia sensed eyes on her and looked up from the page she was pretending to be fully engrossed by.
"Doctor March. Zosia." She said with as much courage as she could muster in the face of her hero.
The words sounded foreign said out loud when she was so used to hearing them only in her own head. Her heart raced.
"Whatever. Scrub up and come with me. I hope you are more competent than those fools."
"I can assure you I am Ms Naylor." Zosia leapt to her feet, quick on Jac's heels.
"Am I to observe?" She quipped, not wanting to get her hopes up.
"No. I need you to assist. It's pretty routine. Do you think you are up to it?" Jac spoke over her shoulder at the girl as she led her towards the theatre.
Zosia was first hit by sheer panic, was she ready? Her mind ran through all the basic theory she knew by heart and this calmed her nerves. Yes, of course she was. This was her chance to prove her competency to Jac. Although she would have preferred to have assisted one of the other surgeons before being metaphorically pushed into the deep end under the scrutiny of the woman who inexplicably made her palms sweat, Zosia was secretly ridiculously pleased that Jac Naylor picked her.
"Doctor March?" Jac stopped at the theatre doors and turned to face Zosia, quirking a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her.
"Yes. Thank you so much for the opportunity Ms Naylor." She babbled, slipping dangerously into the forbidden hero-worship territory.
"Don't make me regret it."