Day 1:
There are many people who are convinced that
first meetings are important. They determine the course
in which your future with someone will take. The first
impression you make. I think it's ridiculous. I still
believe that terrible first impressions, terrible first meetings
aren't the end of the world. Sometimes, you just have
to take a step back and say, "Okay, do you think we could just
Start Again?"
A month ago-
"Peggy, I hope you're not calling to ask how I am. Again," Melinda says, as sternly as she can possibly manage over the phone.
"Well, that wasn't the purpose of the call, but since you brought it up, how are you?"
Melinda groans, slamming her pencil down onto her desk as a laugh rings out from the other end of the line.
"What's wrong with, "I'm fine Peggy, how are you?""
"Everything. You should see the post-op notes I'm going through. I swear, the chief hates me."
She can hear Peggy laughing as she speaks, and just shakes her head. Truth be told, she was glad for these calls; they forced her to take much needed breaks.
"That's why I'm calling actually."
Melinda raises a brow.
"Have you found a way to make his murder look completely accidental, because I've been working on that for months."
They're definitely over two thousand miles apart, but still Melinda can feel Peggy's disapproving glare.
"Now I'm not so sure I want to tell you the good news anymore."
That certainly piqued her interest.
"Good news?"
"Dr. Pierce had an unfortunate run-in with an electrical pole whilst driving through a storm. He passed away just over a week ago."
"I hardly see how that constitutes as good news."
"He wasn't very popular with patients or staff. But that isn't my point. His position as Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery has opened up, and I couldn't think of anyone better for the job."
Melinda freezes as she absorbs the meaning of her friend's words. Peggy was offering her a job. That meant no more Chief Buttface and the other annoying attendings. And she would be the head of her own department. At Shield Memorial no less.
"The offer is open for six weeks. And I'll be sorely disappointed if you don't take it, because I'm vetting for you in front of the board."
There's only a short pause before Melinda responds.
"I'm typing up my letter of resignation now."
Present Day-
"Settled in okay?"
Melinda allows herself a small smile as Peggy greets her at the front doors of Shield Memorial. The structure of the hospital itself was impressive, and she'd heard many of the attendings at her old hospital sing praises about their facilities.
"I've barely had a chance to unpack, but it's not as if I brought much with me."
Peggy gives her a look and gestures for her to follow as she herself begins to head towards the automatic doors.
"Sorry I couldn't give you a lift this morning; did the cab ride take long?"
Melinda shakes her head, and follows closely behind.
"We've put everything you'll need into your office, but before we get down to business, there's a young lady I know you'll want to see."
Her eyes widen slightly as she tilts her head, hand shooting out to grab Peggy's with a frown.
The look her friend is wearing is sympathetic, and Melinda turns her head away, having been on the receiving end of that particular look far too many times.
"Oh Melinda. It's not.. just come with me."
They walk in silence, the only sounds of their presence were the clicks of their heels against the floor. She tries her best to memorize every hall and room that they passed; an attempt to keep her mind from wandering into dangerous territories.
They come to a stop outside an on-call room, and Melinda eyes Peggy curiously as she reaches out a hand and knocks on the door rather loudly.
There are muffled sounds coming from within the room, and Melinda can make out the voice of a man calling for them to go away.
"Dr. Barton. I do hope you are quite finished," Peggy calls out, and there's some loud rustling before the door swings open.
The redhead standing in the doorway is a familiar face, and Melinda finds herself breaking out into a grin.
"May?!"
She's barely enough time to brace herself and is nearly knocked off her feet as Natasha Romanoff runs straight at her, pulling her into a tight hug.
"I promised that you would like the new head better than Pierce."
From between strands of red hair, Melinda can see that Peggy's smiling at the two of them.
"I'd prefer sack of flaming shit over Pierce."
Peggy frowns in disapproval at her words and Melinda finds herself suddenly able to breathe again as Natasha relinquishes her hold.
Melinda takes a moment to study her former intern. Her long red curls have been straightened out and cropped up to her shoulders, and she's now in the navy blue scrubs that marked one's status as an attending.
Wrinkled navy blue scrubs.
"I see that working as an attending hasn't changed your habits," Melinda chastises, as she wrinkles her nose at the smell of what she was now able to identify as sex.
"And you're as observant as ever."
Melinda shrugs her shoulders and tilts her head to one side, raising a brow as she does.
"Your shirt is on backwards."
The male - Dr. Barton presumably - inside the on-call room lets out a hearty laugh, as Natasha storms back inside and slams the door shut behind her.
Despite the unfamiliarity of her surroundings, Melinda feels perfectly at home strolling through the halls at Shield Memorial, with Natasha right beside her.
She supposes that hospitals are similar enough, and her new scrubs and labcoat feel no different from her old ones.
"Just take a left, the NICU is right at the end of that hall."
She nods silently as Natasha runs off down the other end of the hall-way; she had a surgery scheduled and despite her overly relaxed personality, had no intention of being late.
They'd both been paged minutes earlier, but on account of Natasha's already scheduled surgery, it fell to Melinda to answer the page.
She'd worked with newborns and operated on children back in LA, but Peggy had mentioned that Shield Memorial was popular not only for their neurosurgeons, but also their work on pediatric cases.
As she reaches the end of the hallway, she notices that the NICU is mostly empty, save for the sick infants. There are a couple of nurses checking on things, and a group of doctors surrounding a patient in one corner; all wearing pink gowns over their scrubs.
She enters the room quietly, navigating her way through the cots until she reaches the doctors huddled in the back.
"What took you so long Romanoff?"
Melinda frowns as the male doctor, who is currently checking on the newborn lying beneath a plastic hood, asks without looking up. The interns behind him are silent, save one, who lets out a snicker, and the doctor, whom Melinda assumes is the Peds attending in charge, finally straightens up and notices her.
"You're not Romanoff."
It takes every ounce of tact that she possesses for Melinda not to roll her eyes at the attractive blue eyed doctor, who is now staring at her in confusion.
"Melinda May. I'm th-," she begins, holding out a hand, which he shakes as he completes her sentence.
"- The new Head of Cardio. Of course. Phil Coulson, Head of Pediatric Surgery."
She watches him expectantly after he releases her hand, and it takes him a little longer than necessary to realise that she is waiting for the chart.
"Sorry. Here."
He hands it over to her, and she flicks through it quickly, the furrow in her brow increasing with every page she reads. HLHS cases aren't rare in comparison to come congenital heart diseases, but in her entire career to date, she's only operated on a handful of infants with the defect, and from what she can see in these notes, the prognosis is not good.
"Pierce performed the Norwood six weeks ago; he was scheduled for a second procedure in two months, but there have been some complications, and we're detecting beginning heart failure."
Melinda looks up from the charts to find Dr. Phil Coulson, Head of Pediatric Surgery watching her intently.
Biting the inside of her cheek, she frowns and shakes her head.
"I'm afraid there's no way I-"
"Don't ever tell me there's no way."
Melinda stares in shock as he raises his voice at her, and the other doctors take a step backwards.
He takes in a deep breath, raising one hand to his temple, before he speaks again.
"Trip, go round on my post-ops."
Within moments the room is silent, deserted - well nearly. The nurses are wise enough to keep themselves occupied and their gazes averted.
"I get that I'm new here," Melinda replies quietly. "But don't think for a second you can take that tone with me."
They're both tense now, standing stiffly, frowning at one another.
Neither are moving, both holding their ground, until the heart monitor beside them starts beeping erratically.
"Shit."
As she scrubs, soapy water washing away the grime from her hands, she feels a figure move up beside her, and hears the other tap turn on.
If I were so optimistic about life, I wouldn't have made the choices that I did.
She looks down at her hands which are now almost raw from washing and curses herself for letting her thoughts distract her.
"I'm sorry I yelled earlier. It's hard to see children so sick, and not having a solution."
Phil Coulson has finished drying up his hands, and is now staring at her with a sincere smile upon his face.
She's almost tempted to tell him that if thats the case, he picked the wrong occupation, but she holds her tongue.
"You were right though; his condition was still well enough for us to operate, and save his life."
She's mature enough to recognise her own faults and mistakes, and to apologise for her actions.
His gaze is still locked on her, and her own is directed to her hands, which are gripping the edge of the sink.
"Listen, this may be a little forward, but would you like to grab a coffee with me after rounds?"
She's looking up at him now; he's got a dopey little grin on his face, head tilted to one side as he studies her.
She closes her eyes for a second, and lets out a soft sigh.
"I've actually.. um, I've actually still got quite a bit to unpack so.."
She's let the words drift off, and immediately, his smile has fallen.
"But, maybe next time?" she offers, and his face brightens once more as he nods.
"Next time."
He holds the door open for her as they exit into the hallway; normally she'd hate that, but as they head off separately, she can feel a blush creeping its way up her cheeks.