Author's note: Hi everyone. I'm so sorry this update has been so long in coming. This story hasn't been abandoned. It's just that there was life and there was stuff and hopefully all of it will give me a breather to focus on writing a bit more. I have a few chapters outlined and it's my plan to get them up every few days or so. They're a lot shorter than what I've done previously, but it works better for my time at the moment. Hope you understand, and I hope you enjoy!


Chapter 9

Alex, we need to talk…

Nicky bursts into the bathroom and I'm suddenly not in Exam 4 with Piper anymore. I'm two days later, getting ready for a new shift. She leans heavily against the door as she closes it and the look on her face makes me forget the conversation I was busy reliving for the hundredth time since it happened.

"Twice in two days," she says with a cheeky grin and a waggle of her eyebrows. "I think you're losing the plot, Vause. This isn't how the whole use-em-and-lose-em thing is supposed to go."

I don't want to give her the satisfaction of a response, but to keep her from seeing one etched on my face, I bend over the pale blue porcelain sink, holding my hair out of the way while I make seriously slow work of spitting out the toothpaste stinging my mouth. She stands there and watches me do it. Her stare cuts through me and makes me almost not want to look back up.

"What are you looking at?" I'm more than a little irritated with her barging in on my morning routine. And also the thoughts that were keeping me company while I was at it. My hair is still wet, but I pull it into a messy bun on top of my head anyway. Just to give myself something to do.

"Nothing," she says with a shrug, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm just trying to figure out… Nah, never mind."

She's dangling a carrot that she wants me to bite. Poking me for a reaction. But I'm not going to give it to her.

"Fine. Please get out of my way." I make a go for the door but she deftly blocks me.

"That's it? You're just giving up?" She's still wearing that stupid grin, but she's the only one in the room who finds this in any way amusing.

"Do you mind? I have work." She doesn't move. So we stand there, staring each other down.

"So why haven't you nailed her yet?" she asks eventually.

Of course I had an idea we were headed in this direction, but the question, delivered in that blatantly crass way only Nicky can manage, still catches me a little off guard. "Who says I haven't?" I mirror her folded arms with mine and try my best to look like I'm not lying through my teeth. But this is Nicky. I could never hide from her.

"I thought Knox was supposed to be a one-time thing."

I start to tell her not to call her that, but instantly know it won't help the case I'm trying to make, so I say "You thought right. That's all it was," but don't look at her when I do.

"Okay, so then what's the hold-up with Hello Nurse inside there? She's so obviously down, which means the delay must be coming from your side."

"What? There's no-"

"I'm just saying, it looks like you have a problem in the shape of a pretty blonde brain doctor, and if you wanna sweep that problem under the rug, you better quit wasting time and get to sweeping, instead of making that poor hot rug follow you around like a lost puppy."

"You wanna say that a little louder? I don't think she caught all of it." I'm struggling to keep my own voice down but with the anger that my friend is steadily stoking, it's not that easy. "And she's not a rug, okay. I'm not sweeping," I add as an afterthought.

"Right." She's not convinced.

"And in case you haven't noticed, I've been drowning in work."

"Never stopped you before," she says without missing a beat.

"We barely know each other."

"Like you give a fuck." Again, no beat missed. In true Nicky fashion. And the combination of her no-shit tone and the look on her face is grating my last nerve. "The Alex I know would've been all up in that-"

"Get out of my way." I push past her, using my elbow to nudge her aside and clear the door so I can flee through it. I mean walk, not flee.

I don't need to hear what the Alex she knows would've done. I know only too well. The thing is, I'm not sure that Alex is this Alex. The one Nicky's talking about, she lived and breathed on the other side of two weeks ago. When things were a lot simpler and Piper Chapman was just some perv action I caught on shift. Now it's starting to feel like that Alex doesn't live here anymore.

I stride into the living room but come to a stop when I see Laney standing over by the book shelf. She's wearing the same blue jeans she had on yesterday, black lace-up boots to go with a great leather jacket. Not ideal for the blistering cold outside and she's totally gonna freeze her ass off on the back of my bike, but she looks good and I think that was the deciding factor in her get-up today. I'm beginning to think I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this particular distraction. All I wanted was a way to pass time outside of my head. Now I feel like there's pressure and expectation. I hear Nicky come into the room behind me and it kicks me into gear.

"Ready to go?" I move into the room and swipe my coat from the back of the chair. There's really no rush, but I feel like rushing things along anyway. The longer I'm in here with them, the worse I'm gonna feel.

Laney turns at the sound of my voice and her face lights up, twisting a little knot of guilt in my stomach. "I brought coffee," she says, pointing to the still steaming cardboard cups on the table. She got the good stuff. Even brought one for Nick. The little knot grows. Twists a little more. "I only just learned Nicky doesn't do coffee in the morning, so I guess it's more for us."

I catch Nicky's raised eyebrows she shoots my way at the word 'us' and look away. "Thanks," I mumble, picking up my drink out of sheer guilt and obligation and how am I even in this situation right now?

Alex, we need to talk…

I take a huge gulp that scalds my tongue, the bridge of my mouth, and all the way down, but I don't stop. I want it to get right in there, scald away at my insides and take this guilty feeling with it. By the time I lift the cup from my lips it's halfway finished and they're both looking at me.

"Was that good for you?"

"It's not that hot," I say to Nicky, who just shakes her head and laughs softly to herself.

"Well okay," she says, clapping her hands and rubbing them together, "I wanna get to the station before all the jelly donuts are gone so I'll leave you two lovebirds to it." She throws a wink at Laney as she pulls on her jacket and I swear the nurse turns pink all the way from the neck of her cream colored cashmere sweater right up to her forehead.

I'm glaring at Nick, shooting covert daggers with my eyes right into her heart, but she knows better than to look at me after making a stupid comment like that, and so all of my efforts at Death by Staring go to waste.

"Catch ya later masturbator." Nicky breezes out, slamming the door behind her, leaving only awkward silence and the chill of expectation hanging heavy in the air. I start to wonder if Laney can hear the way my brain is hurtling right now. I go back to my coffee so I don't have to look at her. I don't know why I'm feeling this way all of a sudden. I was quite fine before Nicky felt the need to corner me in the bathroom just now. I was fine. Completely fine. I need to be fine again. Get back on track. Remember what it is I'm doing. And what it is I absolutely shouldn't do.

"Well there're no jelly donuts at Litch Gen, and we still have a half hour to kill." Laney shrugs off her jacket and throws it on the sofa, looking at me the whole time she does it, wearing a smile that tells me the coffee wasn't anything more than a prop, a courtesy.

So obviously down, like Nicky would say.


All eyes are on me when I walk into the locker room and when I start toward my locker, I realize there's a reason everyone's gathered around in a semi-circle, and it's not to form some kind of welcoming party for me.

"Tardiness isn't a lack of time, Doctor Vause, it's a lack of respect," Wash tells me with a cold stare. And that's saying a lot since she's probably the only attending without a cruel bone in her body.

"Sorry. Traffic." I shuffle to take up a spot beside Jefferson, shrinking back in the hope of disappearing altogether. The fact that everyone's already in scrubs and I'm standing here like a lame civilian makes my sore thumb syndrome even worse.

"Don't let it happen again," Wash says before turning her attention back to the room. I nod my acknowledgement, my shoulders dropping in relief as soon as her eyes move off me.

She starts talking and I get an elbow jab from Jefferson. "Didn't miss much. Waiting on our assignments," she whispers out the side of her mouth, still looking straight ahead as if she's paying the world of attention to the attending in front of us.

I give a small smile of thanks, genuinely grateful for some kind of ally in this place after the rocky start I've had. "Thanks."

"You'll get a chance to return the favor," she says, but then her face breaks into a smile too. I think we're friends now.

"Take one and pass the rest around." Wash hands a bunch of papers to Brook, who promptly does as she was told. I watch the pile grow smaller as it moves from intern to intern like the most boring game of hot potato. "These forms are compulsory. A new procedure I'm instituting. The aim of which is to reassert your focus as a surgical intern to always put the work first." This last bit gets me to look up and I see she's staring right at me. What the fuck? "As you know, you'll be working in pairs," she goes on, shifting her gaze now that she's happy she has my attention, "and each of you will be required to use this form to review the work of your partner for the week that you're together. The attending whose service you will have been on for that week will also be filling out a similar form. And a word of warning – they're not happy about the added paperwork, so you're going in at a disadvantage. Don't give them a reason to give you a bad review."

I finally get my sheet and scan it with mild interest. Bedside manner, attention to detail, dealing with authority, bullshit, bullshit… The back of my neck feels like it's on fire and it's not because of the temperature control in here. Wash is still droning on but I'm not listening. I can't stop staring at this stupid form. Obviously the administration's way of clamping down, of keeping rogue interns in line. It just so happens they only have one of those on their hands, which makes this whole change in procedure feel a lot more personal.

"Great. Babysitting forms." I recognize the voice as Six, who's standing right behind me, and just when I start to feel a kind of kinship that I'm not the only one hating this new arrangement, he spits out, "Thanks a lot, Vause," which starts a case of sniggers from other interns within earshot of his underhanded whispering.

It feels like a kick to the gut, really. They all know why it's Wash in here and not Chapman, and they hate me for it. The fact that they lost out on being mentored by a superstar and have to put up with a general surgeon instead. And because being Litch Gen's newest pariah isn't enough, there's changing of protocol and amending procedures. Just to rub my nose in it. To remind me I'm being watched from all sides. I set my jaw to try and keep from saying something I might regret. Jefferson though, bless her heart, doesn't have the same kind of restraint.

"You just mad 'cause this form puts you on the fast track outta here. Not that you need the help," she says in her outside voice and a hush falls over the locker room. I enjoy the look on Six's face probably more than I should but fuck him.

"Please, Doctor Jefferson," Wash doesn't look too happy with the interruption, "this is exactly the kind of behavior we're trying to avoid."

"He was asking for it," Jefferson replies. I have a feeling what her Dealing with Authority section's gonna look like this week.

All the other interns start weighing in, their voices becoming a muddled buzz as they all talk at the same time. I'm trying to ignore it, but singular phrases like 'so unfair' and 'we have to pay for her mess' ricochet off me. I've had bad days, sure, who hasn't, but this is quickly muscling in to take top spot on my list of worst days ever.

"Enough!" Wash is the smallest person in the room, but she gets her voice right out there and it works to quiet everyone. "I get that you're stressed. You're in a stressful situation. This program is the hardest few years you're going to have to endure in your life. All the more reason to keep your head down and your nose clean." I see her actively work to not look at me this time. Probably afraid to single me out in case it starts a riot. Or maybe I'm just feeling picked on and targeted and all of this has nothing to do with me. A girl can dream. "Think on this," she goes on, "you're in direct competition with each other. Your ultimate goal is to stand out from every other intern in this group. But also, the only way you're getting through this program is if you learn to work together." It's like I can hear everyone's brains get tangled up on itself. We're enemies but also allies? How is that supposed to work? And it doesn't look like Wash is about to explain herself, because she's flipping through the pages on her clipboard and says, "Moving on to assignments for the week."

My heart dips. Right now I'm in a room of people who have it in for me and in a few seconds she's going to call out the name of one them that I'm expected to work with for the coming week. I can handle it. Working the truck for years, you end up on shift with people you can't stand, so you learn to suck it up and do the job. I can do that. Sucking it up is my thing. I'm here to focus on the work, and I can do that with any one of these people. Except Brook. As long as she doesn't-

"That leaves Soso and Vause, you're with me."

Motherfucker.

A week with Brook Soso in my face. I don't think my bullshit threshold can hold out that long. How am I supposed to do this? They want me to keep my head down and my nose clean, but then they throw Brook at me? FOR A WEEK?

But then something great happens. Brook's hand shoots up into the air and she says, "May I request a transfer?"

Yes. She should request it. She should work with someone who's not me.

"What did I just say about learning to work together?" Wash stands with her hands on her hips like a mother chastising her child.

"I just don't think, so soon after… it's probably not best if…"

The rest of her stumbling sentence is suddenly drowned out as our pagers start going off at the same time, filling the room with incessant beeping. The trauma gods have a gift for me. They've probably also messed up my only chance at getting rid of Brook, but hey, I'm all about the distraction. I need to bury myself in something so deep that it'll be impossible for me to look up and into the face of someone judging me.

"Okay surgeons, looks like we're heading to the trenches," Wash says, and rushes off without looking back.

The interns scurry after her like a swarm of rats, each as frantic as the next to get there first. I start running too, but Jefferson yells "Scrubs" over her shoulder before disappearing out the door, and I realize I still have to change. Fuck.


I know it's really short but I had to get this up to get the ball rolling. More to follow soon:)