Arizona
"What are you doing here?" I stare at Nicole in disbelief.
"This is Dr Brooke Clarke," she says, gesturing to the tall brunette next to her. "She'll be your replacement in New York. I've come to show her how you do things."
"A little heads up would have been nice!" I say, quickly but calmly, before turning to Clarke and shaking her hand. "Hi, nice to meet you," I say, politely.
"It's an honour, Dr Robbins," she says, gripping my hand, tightly. "I've been following your work for years," I feel my face start to flush. Please, no more compliments. "I'm really looking forward to being a part of the center."
"Clarke, can you give us a minute?" Herman asks. It's not really a request. Brooke smiles at me before making herself scarce. "Is she gone?" I nod in response before realising Herman can't see me.
"Uh, yeah," I say, checking that Clarke is out of earshot. She reaches out and clumsily places her hand on my arm. She swallows before she speaks.
"I heard about the attack," she says, sympathy in her voice. "Are you alright, Robbins?"
"Yeah... fine. All back to normal," I smile at her. Nope, still can't see me. I cover my hand with hers in appreciation.
"Robbins," she says, sternly, as though I've been caught telling lies. She has this unique ability to make me feel like a naughty five year old. I sigh before I speak.
"I have a bit of PTSD," I explain, quietly. "But, I'm... I'm seeing someone for it." I don't give away too much detail but I already know she's going to pry.
"What are your symptoms?"
"Um... nightmares, flashbacks, hyperarousal, panic attacks... You know, textbook PTSD." The sooner we stop talking about this the better. She senses my anxiety about the topic, and jumps into rescuer mode.
"Do you need some support here? An extra doctor? An extra teacher?"
"No, I'll probably just worry about them, too." I joke, half-heartedly. "Thank you, though."
"You let me know if you change your mind," she says, sincerely. Then, her face changes, as if to say all seriousness is out of the way. "Now, before we start, I need a coffee," she grabs my arm and I lead her towards the canteen.
"Hey... where are all my students?" I say, realising it's very quiet.
"Oh, I've set them off on a research task," she says, quickly. Jesus, already? I was only four minutes late. "Time is money, Robbins," she says, as though she was reading my mind.
...
We've been sat talking for the past fifteen minutes about my life post-New York. I hate talking about myself, but Nicole has not stopped asking. When we first set up the Robbins-Herman Center for Women's Health, we became immediate friends. We had an appreciation for each other's work and the bridge between theoretical teaching and practical surgery flowed meticulously for the students. We were a great team. From there, we would confide in each other about dreams and worries and everything in between. When I left New York, I got the impression that it wasn't just me leaving my job that she was upset about. She didn't want to lose a friend, too. Maybe that's why she's been so distant since I moved back.
I try and brush all of my thoughts aside and focus on the now. I've just finished explaining to her that I'm seeing someone at the hospital.
"Tell me it's not that awful Torres woman," she says, in a disappointed voice. After the morning I've had with Callie, I can't help but smirk at that comment.
"Keep your voice down. That awful Torres woman is like five tables away," I laugh. "And no, it's not her..."
"Do I know her?" She asks, curiously. I smirk. She's going to freak when she realises I'm dating the surgeon who removed her life-threatening tumour.
"Hmm, you might have heard of her... Her name's Amelia."
"Amelia Shepherd?" Her eyes widen out of interest.
"Yeah," I confirm, smiling at her name. I'm glad Nicole can't see the goofy look on my face.
"Robbins, I can feel that smile from here!" Dammit! How does she do that? "Well... it's about time."
"What do you mean 'about time'?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't play dumb with me, Robbins! There's always been a spark between you two," she says, undeniably confident. "I'm surprised you didn't get it on during the whole tumour debacle," she says, flippantly, making me choke on my coffee. I think she's the only woman in the world who can get away with talking so nonchalantly about her own tumour. I see her lips curve upwards into a self-satisfied smile. She'll never admit it, but she loves shocking people. "And, you're not seeing other people?"
"As of last week, are officially 'girlfriends'," I say, immediately cringing. "That sounds so juvenile..." She smiles at me again, but this time it's gentle; a genuinely happy smile.
"Does she make you happy, Robbins?"
"Every day," I say, honestly. "Even the terrible ones."
…
Amelia
My shift ended an hour ago, but I've been keeping myself busy, waiting for Arizona to finish up teaching. I'm standing outside, not far from the entrance when I see her striding towards me and my heart flutters. I smile widely at her and open my mouth to speak to her, but she rushes me into an unexpected, passionate kiss. It's as though she hasn't kissed me for weeks.
"'Hello' to you, too," I say, pulling back and smiling at her. My smile turns to a frown when I see the worry etched across her face. "Are you okay?"
"Do you trust me?" She asks, voice barely above a whisper.
"What?" I ask, confused. "Yeah, of course, I do!" I stroke her cheek in an attempt to ease whatever it is she's stressed about. "What's going on?" I ask, taking both of her hands. She sighs out and looks at the floor.
"Callie tried to kiss me this morning," she says, looking back into my eyes. Her words cut through me like a knife.
"Oh," is all I manage, initially. There's a million questions I want to ask her. I should probably get the most obvious one out of the way. "Did... did you kiss her back?" Please, say no. Please, say no.
"No... God, no. I wouldn't. You know I wouldn't, right?" She looks at me with desperate eyes and I immediately regret my question. I already know she wouldn't. Of course she wouldn't.
"I do," I kiss her, caringly. "I'm sorry, that was a stupid question. I wasn't thinking."
"I just wanted you to know. I didn't want to hide it from you. I don't want to hide anything from you." She says, honestly. My face relaxes into a smile. God, could I love her any more? "I told her about us," she says, bringing me back to earth.
"How did she react?" I ask, genuinely interested.
"Not great," she says, rolling her eyes. "I ended up walking to work from Sofia's school. Well, for a little bit... Alex spotted me and picked me up. Oh, he knows, too, by the way." She rambles, making me smile again.
"I don't care," I say, wrapping my arms around her waist. "Anyone can know."
"Yeah?" She asks, gently, as her hands rest on the back of my neck.
"Yeah... as long as that's okay with you?"
She doesn't reply verbally, but leans into our embrace. I kiss her shoulder before resting my chin on it. That's when I spot a familiar woman coming out of the hospital. My eyebrows knot together in confusion. "Is that Herman?" I ask Arizona.
"Oh, by the way, Herman's here," she quips. "She also knows."
"Oh, God. I take back the 'anyone can know' thing," I say, jokingly. I know she's going to want to tease us about this. There's another woman next to Herman who I don't recognise.
"There she is," she says, pointing to Arizona and guiding the blind woman towards us. We stand shoulder to shoulder as they make their way towards us.
"Robbins," Herman addresses her. "Thank you for today."
"Dr Herman," I greet her, making sure she knows I'm here too before she says anything embarrassing.
"Shepherd! It's good to see you. Well, so to speak..." she jokes, making me smile. It's good to know she hasn't lost her quick wit. "Clarke, this is the brilliant woman who removed my tumour. Dr Brooke Clarke's working at the New York center."
We exchange greetings and fall into small talk. The conversation starts off steadily, but as we continue, Herman seems to be a little antsy.
"Oh, crap. I think I left my cell in the waiting room," she says, rifling through her bag.
"I'll go check for you," Arizona volunteers.
"Clarke, go with her," Herman says, sharply.
"Uh... okay?" I watch as the two walk towards the hospital, and turn back to Nicole when they're out of sight.
"Isn't that your cell in your pocket?" I ask. Then it clicks. She's sent them in as a distraction. She's very subtle.
"Are you taking care of her?" She wastes no time in questioning me about what she really wants to know.
"We're taking care of each other," I confirm, truthfully.
"How was the trial?"
"Hard," I say, not skirting around the topic. "But, she was... amazing. She was honest, and graceful, and brave. You'd have been really proud of her." She nods her head, knowingly.
"And, the PTSD?" She asks, quickly. I'm not sure how to answer this one. I sigh out and think for a couple of seconds.
"It is what it is," I reply, eventually. "I help her the best I can, but, I'm... I'm constantly worried that it's not enough." I don't feel like saying anything else. To be completely honest, simply trying to help her through it is exhausting me. I dread to think what it's actually doing to Arizona. Unexpectedly, I feel Nicole's hand grab my shoulder.
"I can guarantee that whatever you're doing is helping her," she says. They're the exact words I need to hear. They help me feel like I'm doing something right. "Despite everything, I can tell she's happy. You're making her happy."
"We couldn't find it," Arizona's voice brings us out of our conversation. "Isn't this your cell?" she says, poking the bulge in Herman's pocket.
"Oops! You're right," she feigns surprise. "Guess I can't even blame that one on the blindness, huh?"
"Nope, probably just old age," Arizona replies in jest.
"You know it's not too late to dissolve this business arrangement, Robbins," she says, jokingly. I watch as she pulls her into a hug and it shocks me. She's not usually one for PDA. "Take care of yourself, Arizona," she says in a motherly fashion.
"You, too," Arizona replies. "Let me know when you're back safe."
"Will do," she promises. "See you around, Shepherd," she says, squeezing my arm on her way past.
"It was good to meet you both," Clarke says, politely, following Herman towards the car.
"You, too," we reply in unison.
"I miss that woman," Arizona says, fondly, as we watch them get into the car.
"You know what? I kinda do, too!" I admit.
As we walk in the opposite direction and towards my car, I sling my arm across Arizona's shoulders. In turn, she wraps an arm around my waist, and asks me: "How was your day?"
I don't think I've ever felt quite so content.