one-shot; strange observations
pairing: aizawa kosaku/shiraishi megumi
word count: 2168 words
note: I was attending a conference all day today but because I refused to break my streak, I still managed to get something written. So here you go, a short and rather pointless (and also plotless) ficlet (may or may not have drafted this when I was supposed to be paying attention to current economic trends).

And oh, I may have stolen Yuri Hannah's plot bunny about a certain grey sweater.

Hiyama was leisurely sipping her coffee, while flipping through a patient's report, when Shiraishi rushed in, nearly banging against the doorway in her haste to run into the office.

"Whoa, what's the fire?" She called out good-naturedly, as Shiraishi dumped her files onto her desk, looking a bit disorientated. Her usually neat short ponytail was sort of in disarray, and the collar of her jacket was not flattened properly.

"I'm really late," she responded, running a hand through her hair. She grabbed her bag and started rummaging through it. "Where is my locker key…?"

Hiyama shook her head, chuckling. "Your shift doesn't start for another fifteen minutes. Slow down and stop panicking, you have time. Although for you, coming in fifteen minutes before is like me coming in two hours late."

Shiraishi ignored her, as she was too preoccupied with turning her bag upside down. Finally, with a sigh of relief, she fished her key out of her bag. She shrugged off her jacket and draped it over her chair, and headed towards the locker room. Hiyama watched her in amusement, raising her coffee cup to her lips, and then she frowned. Shiraishi's slightly wrinkled cream striped blouse looked very familiar.

"Hey, weren't you wearing this blouse yesterday?"

Shiraishi started visibly, and stared down at herself. "Ohhh…yes…uhhh…I was in such a hurry I must've grabbed this shirt off the top pile of my dirty laundry instead of the clean pile."

Hiyama raised an eyebrow as Shiraishi ducked into the locker room. Something was definitely up with her staff leader. Shiraishi was never good at lying, and knowing how anal-retentive she was about her laundry, that excuse really couldn't cut it. Besides, she was also wearing a pair of black slacks, same as yesterday. She knew Shiraishi had multiple pairs of black slacks but she was willing to bet that these were the exact same pair she wore yesterday. It was obvious that she didn't manage to go home after her shift yesterday.

Could it be possible…that Shiraishi had finally found herself a boyfriend? Or at the very least, getting some action?

Hiyama smiled to herself. She'd forced it out of Shiraishi. She always managed to.

Fujikawa swung around in his chair, whistling to himself slightly as he pursued a patient's medical report. He had a pretty good day that day. He didn't lose any patients, managed to save a severely injured woman bought in by the Heli, and Tachibana-sensei had praised him for his quick thinking that managed to save the aforementioned woman. Plus the thanks and gratitude he received from the woman's husband wasn't too shabby either.

Aizawa entered the office for his night shift, just as he was about to start on his report, taking off his winter coat and unwrapping the black scarf around his neck, hanging both items of clothing at the coat rack.

"Oi, Aizawa." Fujikawa greeted, and Aizawa nodded towards his colleague, not saying anything more, as usual. He headed his seat at his desk a bit further from Fujikawa's, putting down his backpack. Fujikawa edged over to him, grinning. "Hey, guess what? There was a complicated case today, and I solved it."

Aizawa's eyes flickered towards him, but he said nothing, pulling out several files from his desk shelf. Fujikawa continued bragging, telling him the specifics although he wasn't listening. But even Aizawa being unfriendly as usual couldn't sully the orthopaedic surgeon's good mood as he continued chattering.

Aizawa gathered his files, and piled them neatly on his table. He then walked off towards the locker room to change into his scrubs, as Fujikawa was still talking. He stopped in mid-sentence, his jaw dropped.

"Tch," Fujikawa muttered, swivelling back to his own table. He had known Aizawa long enough not to be offended, but it was still irritating. Finishing his report, he grabbed his stethoscope and pen, stuffing them into the pockets of his scrubs, as he got up and head towards the emergency room.

On his way out, he saw that Aizawa's scarf had slipped off the coat rack, lying in a heap on the floor. Stopping, he bent down and retrieved the scarf, muttering to himself. "I don't know why I'm doing this for you…but what the heck, I'm just collecting good karma." As he hung it on the rack, his eyes caught the edge of the scarf, and he stared at it. There was a pattern of flowers, dark blue in colour, edging the scarf.

This was obviously a woman's scarf.

Either Aizawa was blind and/or oblivious, and accidentally bought a woman's scarf…or he was at a woman's house, and took her scarf, accidental or otherwise. Fujikawa grinned so widely that he could almost feel his face split. He'd bet his house that it was the latter.

"Are you going out, or do you intend to just block the doorway?" A voice sounded out from behind him, and he jumped. Turning around, he saw Aizawa standing there with his usual stoic face.

"I'm going, I'm going," he said, heading out, but still, he still couldn't help smirking at the neurosurgeon.

"What is it?" Aizawa glanced at him, a note of irritation creeping into his voice.

"Nothing…nothing…"

He couldn't wait to spread this bit of news.

Saejima counted the number of scalpels in front of her carefully, and marked it carefully. Taking the spare box of scalpels, she took out a few, and slipped it into the bag of emergency medical supplies. Running her finger down the list, she next checked on the number of IV lines.

"Saejima, do you need any help?" She looked up to see Shiraishi standing opposite the counter where she was doing the checking and restocking of emergency supplies.

She shook her head, doing a quick count of the IV lines. "It's all right. I would rather do this myself so I don't get mixed up. It's a flight nurse's job, anyway."

"It's everybody's job," Shiraishi corrected her, taking another one of the orange medical supply bags. "Besides, two pairs of hands are better than one, and it's really quiet in emergency tonight. I could use a task to keep me awake."

Saejima gave her a quick smile and conceded. Shiraishi opened the bag, and consulted the sheet that the flight nurse had carefully printed for each and every bag of supplies. They worked in silence for a few minutes, ticking the numbers off the list, making notations and replenishing what was needed.

As Shiraishi completed restocking her second bag of supplies, she sneezed. And sneezed again. By the time she stopped sneezing, she had sneezed eight times in a row. Saejima looked at her, her brow wrinkled slightly in concern. She recalled that Shiraishi had been sniffling all day, and she definitely heard coughing that was a bit more constant than usual.

"Shiraishi-sensei, are you not well?"

"Ah? No, no, it's just a little sniffle, that's all…" and then she sneezed again.

"Maybe you should get a jacket," Saejima suggested. "It's a little cold in here."

"Yes, I think I will," Shiraishi said, still sniffling. She put down the sheet that she was checking, and headed towards the office. "I'll be back in a minute."

Saejima turned her attention back to her work, taking five rolls of gauze and packing it neatly into the bag she was restocking. Shiraishi returned after a short while, wearing a grey sweater over her scrubs. She resumed her work, reaching for a box of medical tape.

The flight nurse cast the doctor a quick look, and then she took another look. Shiraishi's sweater seemed…familiar somehow. And upon closer scrutiny, the sweater was much too big for her. The shoulders were halfway down her upper arms, and it was baggy in a way that was definitely not meant to be a fashion statement. Not that Shiraishi was ever concerned about being fashionable.

It was obviously a men's sweater.

Saejima smiled to herself, and continued her work.

The three Fellows were in the office, respectively gathering what they need for the day, when Aizawa, dressed in his street clothes, walked in. He gave them a cursory nod, and disappeared into the locker room.

Yokomine stared after him, and then she turned to Haitani and Natori. "Did you notice that?" She hissed in a low tone.

"Notice what?" Natori said in a bored tone, as he slung his stethoscope around his neck and clipped his ID badge neatly to his pocket.

"Aizawa-sensei's clothes!" Yokomine's voice was tinged with excitement.

Haitani's head had swivelled towards the direction of the locker room, not that he could catch a glimpse of Aizawa. "What about it?"

"He's wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday!" She looked at her fellow interns expectantly.

"So?" Natori mumbled, taking out his phone and scrolling through it.

"So…" Yokomine waved her hands, nearly hopping in excitement.

"So…Aizawa-sensei forgot to do his laundry?" Haitani supplied helpfully.

"No!" Yokomine sighed exasperatedly. "You two are hopeless. Don't you know anything? It means he didn't go home yesterday, and didn't have time to go home this morning to change. Which means…"

Both of them stared her blankly.

"Oh, forget it," Yokomine sulked. If only they'll watch a drama or two, then they'll totally get it.

"I'm telling you, he's seeing someone. Or at the very least, possibly sleeping with someone." Fujikawa insisted, taking a huge bite of his sandwich.

"Fujikawa-sensei…" Saejima sighed. "How many times have I told you not to gossip?"

"But Haruka, aren't you the least bit curious?"

"No, I'm not," she said, slipping her teabag into her cup of hot water, while Fujikawa looked crestfallen.

Hiyama set down her lunch tray next to Saejima, and took her seat. "Forget about Aizawa, I have to tell you two about Shiraishi."

Saejima rolled her eyes. Suddenly, the lunch had turned into Gossip Central, as Hiyama proceeded to tell them about how Shiraishi was wearing the same clothes she was wearing the day before when she came in for her shift two days ago. Fujikawa responded with his usual nosiness and loud exclamations, and then another voice pipped up.

"Aizawa-sensei was wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday this morning!"

Three heads turned towards Yokomine sitting at the next table, looking excited at the tidbit she had to offer. Natori had tuned out, and Haitani was just staring at his lunch.

Saejima wisely decided to keep the grey sweater observation to herself, but even so, the thought was already forming in her head. That thought was evidently also on Hiyama, Fujikawa and Yokomine's minds judging by the look on their faces, but Fujikawa was the one who vocalised it, nice and loud.

"You don't supposed…Aizawa and Shiraishi…?"

At that moment, a shadow fell over their table, and the atmosphere suddenly turned chilly. They all turned to see Aizawa glaring at them coldly, lunch tray in hand. Behind him was Shiraishi, who looked…mildly horrified. Aizawa set his tray down with a clatter at the table behind Fujikawa, who jumped. Shiraishi, on the other hand, mumbled something about needing to check on a critically ill patient, and she darted out of the cafeteria, depositing her full lunch tray at the tray collection counter as she hurried off.

"Uhhh, I need to check on a patient, too!" Fujikawa said quickly, clambering to his feet.

"So do I," Hiyama pushed her chair back so fast that it nearly fell over.

The three Fellows, sensing Aizawa's intent to kill, hurriedly made lame excuses, and they all vanished within seconds.

Saejima was the only one left sitting there, and she continued eating her lunch calmly. Aizawa gave her a look, and she met his gaze squarely. "I did not say a thing."

Shiraishi looked up as she heard the bathroom door opened. She got up from her lying position on the couch, and put down her magazine. "I made you hot tea."

"Ah," Aizawa said, coming over to the couch, settling himself next to her, towelling his hair dry. "Thank you."

She sighed, and leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. "Well. I gather everyone in Lifesaving knows about us now."

"Does it matter?" he asked, his tone even.

She bit her lip, thinking about it, and then she shook her head. "No, I guess it doesn't."

"Good. Because it doesn't matter to me, too."

"By the way," she said, pouring him a cup of green tea and handing it to him. "I cleared a drawer for you in my bedroom. You know, in case you want to put some clothes there, or something. So it's easier the next time…" her voice trailed off at the look on his face. It was a look she couldn't quite read, surprise, and something else. "I mean, if you want to. You don't have to."

Aizawa leaned over, his hand on her cheek, and then he kissed her. He pulled back after a moment, a half smile on his face. "I'll clear a drawer for you, too."

Shiraishi smiled. "That would be very nice."

A/N: Told you it's plotless, but I do enjoy writing myself some OT5, haha. The timeline of the Aizawa/Shiraishi relationship is that they had been together for a while, the instances of the same clothes are meant to be incidences when one or the other woke up late and had to rush for work, meaning no time to return home beforehand.

The drawer thing is something I stole from House MD, where basically it's a form of commitment.

Still conference day tomorrow. But I really do not want to break my streak because I am so close to achieving it…so expect something equally lame tomorrow, or possibly Haitani's perspective to my perspectives fic.

Oh, and I wrote the elevator thing I talked about so please read it if you haven't already!

Reviews and comments will greatly encourage me in my quest to keep my streak alive!