Christmas had come and gone all too quickly. He had particularly enjoyed the box of laundry detergent bottles she had given him, each with their very own shiny red bow. It was exactly what she had promised she'd do.
He had gone a slightly different route. He was very nervous about it, given their previous round-about discussion on the topic, but Christmas Eve marked their nine-month anniversary. He'd decided back in October that it was finally time.
So on Christmas Eve night, he made her favourite meat-free bolognese and he set the scene. Candles and a brand new table cloth on the dining room table, smooth jazz playing in the background - he'd even finally finished unpacking his apartment, just so he could use his best dinner set.
He'd warned her to dress up, and she did not disappoint. She arrived at the door wearing a deep red dress that accentuated all the right places. Her hair was down, her curls bouncing around uncontrollably in the way that he loved. Her smile lit up the room.
He knew he was risking his entire career, but he also recognised that this woman, and what they had together - it was worth it.
So after dinner, he'd given her the full speech. It was no expectations, he didn't want to put any pressure on them, he knows they're not ready for what the permanency of moving in together would really mean.
"But I want you to come and go as you please," he'd told her, handing her a set of keys complete with a giant strawberry keychain.
She couldn't help but laugh.
This was what she was thinking about as she placed her keys into her locker that morning. Right now, med school was kicking her ass. Between her shifts in the ED and her last research projects before graduation, she was barely sleeping. Luckily, Connor was always right there to lend a helping hand. And to carry her to bed when she was so bleary-eyed she could literally not keep her eyes open.
She looked down as she hung her coat in her locker, and smiled when she noticed the travel mug of coffee he had left for her. There was no mistaking who the gift of caffiene was from. As a joke only a few days before, they had bought the matching Chicago branded travel mugs one of those tourist traps down by Millenium Park. It was gaudy and stupid, but it was so them.
So she headed out into the chaos of the ED, her mug cradled tightly in her hands.
"Morning sunshine," Maggie greeted her happily. "I see you got the coffee. He didn't screw up again over the holidays, did he?"
Sarah laughed. "No no, he definitely did not."
Maggie's grin got even wider. "He did it, didn't he?"
"He did what?"
"He gave you the key!"
April headed over then, at the worst possible moment. "Who gave who a key?" she asked disinterestedly.
Sarah paused. "Uh, some guy on this trashy TV show we watch. It was kind of a big deal."
"So, Maggie's grinning like a Cheshire Cat because her favourite TV characters moved in together?"
"Well, they didn't move in as such," Sarah clarified as conversationally as she could. "But they can both come and go as they please."
April and Maggie shared a look. In unison, they said, "They moved in together."
Connor ran past at that point, heading to a trauma bay to meet an incoming patient. As he passed, he said, "No, they didn't."
Sarah wanted to laugh, but there wasn't time. She immediately headed into the trauma bay behind him, gloves on and ready to go. He wanted a groin line, which she calmly did first time, no problems. It was a far cry from the first time they'd worked together.
"Line's in."
"Fast, good job," he said, now gowned up and ready to go. "We gotta tube this kid quick, you think you can do it?"
"Yes," she said confidently, taking the instruments he handed to her and incubating the patient without any problems.
Then, he flatlined. Connor was on to it in seconds, calmly barking orders and doing what he needed to in order to save the kid's life. He was up on his chest, performing CPR while Connor opened the kid's chest to put a temporary repair on the hole in his heart.
He was completely focused on his patient, but he always made sure he'd acknowledge her somehow as they headed up to OR. Today, they couldn't touch - but today it was enough just to catch her eye.
"I have had the strangest day today," Connor said as he walked into the doctor's lounge in the early evening, where he knew she would be taking her break.
By the looks of it, she'd been there for a while. Her food - a salad he'd made for her the day before - sat on the coffee table in front of her, untouched.
"Downey pulled me in to assist on a CT surgery. Zanetti was not happy." He moved around the room, procuring coffee and pulling his own food out of the refrigerator. "The strangest part was, Goodwin okayed it. But I'm a trauma surgeon, my focus needs to be there. It's what I do, it's what I'm comfortable with ..."
He looked up, really seeing her for the first time. Immediately, he was sitting on the couch beside her, his arms wrapped comfortingly around her. "Hey, talk to me."
She took several calming breaths, then she let the tears fall. "A patient came in earlier. Mr Brennan."
He didn't speak. Right now, she needed to talk.
"He came in with a lice infestation. He's homeless. We showered him, cleaned him, covered him in lotion ..."
She didn't say anything for a long time. He waited, but when she didn't say anything, he finally spoke. "And then?"
"And then ..." She sobbed, her tears now falling freely. "Connor, he died. He wanted a few minutes to himself in the nice, clean bed. And when I came back, he was dead. No reason for it, nothing we could treat, he just ..."
Connor sighed. He didn't bother looking around to see who was watching them. He wasn't worried about that right now - right now, she needed him. So he kissed the top of her head sweetly, and he rubbed comforting circles on her back. He was going to sit here with her for as long as she needed him.
And then the trauma alarm sounded.
She pushed him away and nodded, letting him know she would be fine. He was off, meeting the patient at the front door - a car crash victim.
"Anybody else hurt?"
"No, he crashed into a pylon. Looks like he blacked out and lost control, rolled the car."
Connor took one look at the patient and his heart sank.
He spoke to Maggie directly as they rolled past. "It's Dr Downey. Let Ms Goodwin know."
He was unresponsive. Connor was barking orders, making sure everything was done right.
As Ms Goodwin walked into the room, she told a nurse to call oncology.
"Oncology? This is trauma."
"Maybe," Ms Goodwin replied. "But Dr Downey has liver cancer."
They had him stabilised and sedated, mostly to ensure he rested. Connor hadn't left his side through all of it.
It now made sense - this was why Downey was pulling him in. He wanted to train someone to carry on his legacy. For some reason, Downey had picked him.
In the very back of his mind, a very small part of him had started to think that maybe it would be worth considering what Downey was offering him. He clearly saw something that Connor didn't, just like what he had seen for himself in Sarah.
Maybe it would be worth taking a chance.
He slept in the chair beside Dr Downey's bed that night. It was the most uncomfortable plastic contraption known to man, but it did the job.
He was there when Downey woke up, and together they came to an agreement: He was going into cardiothoracic surgery.
Sarah, on the other hand, had left the hospital right after her shift ended. No matter how much she wanted to be there for Connor right now, she just couldn't do it without blowing their secret right out of the water. Besides, the ED was absolutely the last place she wanted to be.
So she took both of their travel mugs, and she headed back to his apartment. In a strange way, the fancy two bed in the high rise building with the panoramic views of the city skyline had started to feel more like home than her own, comfy one bed place ever did.
Besides, it had the best coffee maker in the city.
As she climbed into his bed that night, a very startling thought occurred to her: She hadn't been home - that is, to her own apartment - in weeks. Half of the items on top of the dresser, even down to the laundry she had just put in the machine - it was hers. At some point, she didn't know when, she'd come home to find he'd folded and put away the dry laundry. It took her ten minutes next morning to find what he had done with her underwear. To her great surprise, she'd found it packed away neatly in a drawer.
The key was definitely just a key. But, where do you draw the line to define what it really meant to "move in"?
A/N: Hi everyone! So, you've probably figured out by now that I'm not really one to put in an author's note, but here we are. I just wanted to say thank you for all your kind words - I really love hearing that you're enjoying this concept just as much as I am. I have big plans for where this could go - thanks for sticking with me. Let me know what you think is going to happen next!
