The pick-up loop of Logan Airport is a dreary mix of car horns, exhaust fumes, and concrete dirtied from decades of negligent use. He blinks wearily at the myriad of signs directing him left, right, or across the three lanes of traffic to buses, private limos, and other forms of transportation to the city center and the towns and villages ringing around the Hub of New England, as the 'Welcome to Boston' sign in Terminal A so proudly proclaimed the city to be.
Alex yawns as he shifts the gym bag slung over his shoulder away from his hipbone, away from the extended handle of the large rolling suitcase parked beside him. He bends down to grab the handles of the non-rolling suitcase placed on the ground near his feet, and he grumbles unhappily as the gym bag swings forward to slam against his hand and stomach.
The comment about moving all her crap to Boston in trash bags might have started as a joke, but now he's thinking it might have been easier than trying to haul three suitcases a piece plus Jo's laptop bag, her purse, and the gym bag masquerading as his overnight bag through the airport. The trash bags would have limited the amount of crap she could move, at least.
Finally spotting the sign demarcating the start of the taxi line, Alex huffs aloud, lifts the three bags he's been charged with carrying, and slowly begins making his way towards the line. The line winds around several concrete pillars, the driving lane reserved for taxis is completely empty, and Alex cannot stifle the yawn interrupting the complete look of exasperation on his face. A week of night shifts and a redeye flight to Boston are catching up with him, and all he wants to do is go to the hotel room and crash.
"Alex!"
He turns around to search for Jo amongst the crowd of travelers queueing up behind him or hauling their own suitcases towards the private cars waiting for them, and he winces as the gym bag swings again pinching his thumb against the handle of the rolling suitcases. Jo waves him over to her, and he thinks for a moment that maybe she made a mistake, maybe New England Baptist had set a car to meet her like Johns Hopkins planned to do for him as he pushes the suitcases and himself back through the crowd.
"We're taking the Silver Line," she informs him before gesturing to the crowd assembled on the curb at the other end of the arrivals section. He has no idea what that means, but the crowd – a small, partially obscured sign saying 'Silver L—' hanging about their heads – does not look as though they're preparing to take a light rail into the city like you can from SEATAC to downtown Seattle. "It's free now. And a taxi to Copley is, like, fifty bucks."
"I thought you said we had to go to Mission Hill," he questions her as she bends down to grab the three suitcases parked beside her. Her freakish, super human strength puts him to shame as she easily hoists the bags up throwing one over her shoulder to rest alongside the purse and laptop bag crisscrossing across her back and stacking other two atop one another until she has a manageable pile.
"The hospital is in Mission Hill. The hotel we're staying at is near Copley Square," Jo replies barely glancing back at him as she starts to haul her suitcases towards the crowd waiting for the Silver Line to arrive. He follows after her but stops dead in his tracks when she explains that all they have to do is take the Silver Line, transfer to the Red Line at South Station, and then transfer again for the Orange Line to Back Bay at Downton Crossing.
"Jo, come on," he retorts in an exasperated tone. He knows she is diligent about keeping track of her expenses, but he will gladly max out his credit card if it means they don't have to haul six suitcases through Boston's public transportation system. He glances around the crowds and the line of buses stamped with MassPort on the side back towards the terminal hoping to spy an ATM machine and sighs hopefully when he spots a sign directing travelers to the Back Bay Express.
"What about that?" Alex questions her pointing towards the sign promising direct service to Copley Square and Hynes Convention in Back Bay from Logan Airport every twenty minutes with a nod of his head.
The orange sticker in the corner says the trip costs five bucks a person, but he's got at least that much in his wallet and places that much value on his own sanity. Jo, clearly unaware about this service, mulls it over for a moment before striding off in the direction of where the sign says to wait for the bus.
Alex manages to fumble his way across the first lane of traffic arriving where Jo stands waiting for him just as the blue and orange bus pulls up to the curb. He smirks when he feels Jo's hand slip into the back pocket of his jeans yet frowns as she whips out his credit card and leaves him to cram all the bags onto the small, silver rack at the front of the bus.
"You students?" The bus driver asks glancing from Jo to Alex with a frown. "He looks too old to be a student."
"Doctors – surgeons," Jo replies as she steps aside so Alex can carry the massive, nearly overweight suitcase he hauled through SEATAC and then again through Boston's airport onto the bus. The bus drivers grunts adding that the city has a lot of those as he hands Jo back Alex's credit card and gestures for her to take a seat somewhere in the mostly empty bus.
She stops to help Alex cram the last of their bags onto the rack and then reaches to grab his hand tugging him towards the back of the bus. He wearily follows behind her sinking into the seat beside her with a yawn.
"Got that hollow jangly feeling, huh?" Jo questions as Alex kicks out his legs, drops his head backwards against the wall behind his seat, and closes his eyes. He nods slowly without commentary, but lifts his right arm up to sling it around her shoulders when he feels her press up against him. "I can't believe Hunt made you work a double."
"Hmm," he grunts noncommittally as the bus finally pulls away from the curb and, immediately, hits a pothole. Both of them bounce in their seats; his head falling back with a crack against the plastic paneling. "Had to make up for taking vacation on such short notice."
Not even the fog of sleep deprivation can dull his senses enough for him to miss the way she stiffens against him, and his eyes fly open with a jerk of his body when he feels her lips press softly against his cheek just above his jaw bone. He stares at her blankly – his eyelids blinking manically in an attempt to stay awake – but she stares up at him with a smile as she softly thanks him for coming to Boston with her.
"What time do you have to be at the hospital tomorrow?"
"Seven," she replies with a glance at her watch. "I have orientation until eleven thirty, lunch with the head of ortho, and then I'm – we're meeting with the relator at two."
Alex nods along and then nods off waking up only when Jo shakes his arm as the bus driver announces this stop is Copley Square. The bus has grown more crowded since they got on, and he ends up banging the bags against several people as he hauls them down from the rack and hands them off to Jo.
"Wow, Princess," he whistles appreciatively as his eyes dart across the architecture of the buildings surrounding the square and then fall to the names of expensive hotel across the street when the bus pulls away. And Jo smirks at his assumption telling him to shut it because she's not a princess and they're not staying in the square.
"It's just a block," she promises at the sound of his audible groan as she gathers up the suitcases once more. A whole forty-eight hours off has left her with far more energy than he thinks is reasonable for someone who spent that time packing up her crap and preparing to move across the country, and he trudges at an even slower pace than before as he follows her past the loading docks of the skyscraper across the street from the square.
Jo seems perfectly as ease amongst the crowded streets of Boston darting across the street against the light without a second glance, and it takes Alex a moment to follow because the handle of the battered, non-rolling suitcase is beginning to separate from the bag and years of living in Seattle has trained the art of jaywalking right out of him. With the fabric continuing to tear and the strap of the gym bag continuing to dig into his shoulder, Alex breathes a sigh of relief when Jo turns into the building at the corner of the street.
Both of them struggle up the last seven steps with the suitcases – a long day of traveling finally catching up to them both – and Alex sinks down gratefully onto one of the black couches in the lobby as Jo deals with checking them in with the hotel staff. He lifts his fingers off his knee is a small wave when he hears Jo say his name and sees her pointing to him as she hands over his driver's license.
The hotel is on NEB although, at this point, he'd gladly hand over his own credit card or, burst into tears and pretend to be Jo's belligerent and drunk husband if it meant they could get upstairs and into a bed faster. He's already started to nod off again – head falling back against the couch – when he feels Jo's index finger jab him in the chest.
"Come on, Sleepy," she tells him with a teasing smile. "Just an elevator ride to the eighth floor and you can sleep."
The hotel staff offers to let them use the elevator cart, but he's already started shuffling towards the elevator and Jo doesn't want to mess with her own carefully balanced stack of suitcases so she waves them off. The elevator, surprisingly, moves faster than the one at Grey Sloan, but it still moves slowly enough that the handle of Alex's bag tears completely off before they reach the eighth floor.
"Anything breakable in here?" Alex asks as the elevator doors slide open.
"Uh, no," Jo cautiously replies with a quick glance at the shoddy looking bag now lying at his feet. With a mumbled 'good', Alex kicks the bag out of the elevator and down the hallway in the direction of their room. Or, at least, he hopes this is the direction of their room because he took a right at the fork and never asked her for the room number.
"Wait, Alex," Jo calls after him stopping at the third door on their left and holding up the electronic keycard. "This is us."
He kicks the bag backwards and rams the rolling suitcase into the wall of the narrow hallway with a muttered curse as he attempts to turn back around. Jo holds the door open for him with her foot standing aside as he makes his way into the room, as he drops his hold on the other bags, as he dive bombs onto the queen sized bed in the middle of the room.
The crisp, white sheets feel cool against his face, and he sighs contently even as he reaches out to snag one of the pillows propped against the headboard. Alex tucks the pillow under his face, and his eyelids clamp shut at the sound of the door slamming close.
Yet his hand still sneaks out to grab Jo's arm when the sounds of her movements and the shift in the air flow tell him she's near. And despite muscles that ache from hauling around so many suitcases, he still manages to pull her down onto the bed beside him.
"Alex!" Jo shrinks as she falls against him, as he releases his grip on her forearm and snakes his arm around her waist.
"Sleep," he instructs with a yawn smiling when Jo finally caves and lays horizontal alongside him. He curves his body around hers nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, looping his right leg around hers, and clasping his left hand with hers under the pillow they both share. And with another yawn, his heavy eyelids fall one final time and he drifts off to a sound sleep.
He awakes to the distant wail of sirens and the far closer sound of the door to their hotel room shutting. Blinking warily, he rolls onto his back and stares at Jo as she steps around the jumble of suitcases dropped near the door carefully clutching two Styrofoam cups in her hands.
"Hey, you're up," she says with a smile when she finally makes her way through the maze of suitcases and looks up to see him sprawled across the bed.
"Yeah," he replies as he rubs his eyes. Sunlight is streaming through the window; the sun having shifted from east to west in the four hours he spent napping. Jo stands over him, lifts her elbow way for her side, and allows the brown paper bag tucked firmly under her arm to fall onto Alex's chest.
"I got doughnuts," she informs him as he reaches for the bag with a questioning look on his face. He clinches his stomach and does a sit up to move himself up into the seated position pushing the pillow aside and reclining against the headboard.
"And coffee," she adds as she thrusts one of the Styrofoam cups under his nose. Alex gratefully takes the coffee cup into his hand twisting it around so the opening of the cup aligns with his mouth as Jo takes a seat in the leather chair beside the bed. She crosses her legs tucking her feet underneath her without bothering to kick off her black, ballet flats.
"Thanks," he mutters gratefully before taking a long drink. The over sugared, burnt coffee tastes vile as it hits the back of his throat, and Alex is unable to suppress the grimace on his face as he pulls the cup away from his mouth. "What is this?"
"Dunkin'," Jo informs him before taking a drink from her own cup. She, too, grimaces before throwing him an apologetic look. "Sorry, I forgot regular at Dunkin' includes sugar and cream."
"Well, there's another thing Seattle has over Boston – better coffee."
"Shh," Jo shushes with a giggle as Alex places his cup on the nightstand. "Those are fightin' words here."
"Doughnuts are probably better, too," Alex announces as he opens the brown, paper bag. He reaches into the bag and frowns when he pulls out two doughnuts – both frosted with sprinkles. "No powdered?"
"The frosted ones are better," she informs him as she leans over and snatches one of the doughnuts out of his hand.
Taking a big bite, she groans appreciatively with eyes that roll up to the ceiling and a mouth lined at the corners with sprinkles and chocolate frosting. She takes another bite frowning when a chunk of doughnut falls into her lap, but she pops it in with a smile and a lick of her fingers.
"So what do you wanna do tonight?" She questions as he finally takes a bite out of his doughnut. "There's a pizza place in the building and lots of bars in the area. Although, last time I was here, it was like eight bucks for a Sam Adams. No Joe's here."
She rambles on for a bit rattling off all the places they go, and he forces himself to take another drink of the vile coffee to keep up with her. And he points as though to say 'that one' when she smiles brightly at the idea of taking a walk through the Common, which is why he finds himself walking down the street wishing he had a thicker jacket to shield himself against the wind not thirty minutes later.
Jo slips her hand into his – the band of her diamond ring cool against his fingers – as they jaywalk across the street, and she softly runs her thumb down the length of his as they enter the park through an opening in the black, metal fence.
The grass is a patchy mess of green and dormant brown and it's a lot smaller than he anticipated given how big some of Seattle's parks are, but the kids and dogs running around don't seem to mind freely sharing the space without complaint. Jo leads him through the park occasionally pointing out certain sites and telling him about the time she and her epidemiology class tested the water in Frog Pond.
"There's a reason you shouldn't wade in it," she blanches with a laugh. "And a reason there isn't any frogs in it."
"Where's the ducks?" He questions scanning around the park to see if he missed something. The little kids climbing on the playground scream and yell and, for a moment, he thinks she might have missed his question. And as he turns to look at her face to face, he elaborates further, "The ones your made-up dad would take you to feed?"
"You remember that?" Jo marvels clearly both surprised and uncomfortable with the question. She turns away breaking the contact between their hands as she gestures towards the busy road they walked down. "The ducks are over by the swan boats in the Public Gardens, which are, technically, not a part of the Common."
"Hmm," he murmurs in reply. Alex watches as Jo shifts uncomfortably, as she crosses her arms over her chest in a rather defensive gesture, and then motions back to the playground behind the pond. "Must have been a cool playground to play on as a kid, huh? We didn't have anything like that in Iowa."
"I didn't grow up here," Jo replies shifting her gaze from his face to the playground to ground and then to the overcast sky above.
"Don't tell me you're a Jersey girl," he jokes trying to lighten the mood and figuring that would explain why she picked Princeton for undergrad.
"Nope," Jo replies with mock indignation before dropping her voice in a low, cautious tone. "I grew up about an hour, hour and a half west of here in Woostah."
The regional accent is, surprisingly, thick, as the pronounces the name of the city but fades away as she explains how she didn't start coming here until medical school when she needed a break from all the trust fund babies and princess at Harvard. Her later words are an attempt to redirect the conversation, to make fun of him for assuming she was just like her former classmates when they first started working together.
"Come on," she adds gesturing away from the Common and the public gardens towards a set of stairs leading out of the park. "I'll take you to see the Charles, which is another body of water you don't want to wade in."
He smiles faintly at her as she starts walking towards the stairs, and Alex can tell by the rigidity of her posture that she's not interested in playing twenty questions about her past. A fact he absolutely can respect and, in fact, does as he jogs to catch up with her, as he playful grabs her ass, as he swings his arm over her shoulder and allows her to lead them out of the park.
"So Pierce says you can get free beer if you do some brewery tour in Jamaica's Plain or Jamaica Plains or whatever," Alex says with a smirk as Jo slides her arm around his waist and leans into him. "And that's certainly cheaper than Joe's."