#doctor ethan ramsey

[gambit-blogs]

Ethan Ramsey x mc with child

[jamespotterthefirst]

I also asked Elsa this question but I wanted to ask you too!

Do you think being with mc, getting married and then becoming a dad would/will make Ethan more patient with the interns and residents, like change his approach a bit or do you think regardless of how his personal life has changed he’ll always be the way he is with interns/residents?

Love this!

I think no matter what is going on in his life, Ethan will always be a demanding attending. He told MC he was that harsh because he wanted the best doctors by his side. I believe that's a core belief of his that will never change.

He might ease up a little bit when his wife (also an attending) points out that he's scaring the interns and “how will you ever have good doctors by your side if you scare them all away?”

“If I scare them—”

“—then they aren't remotely prepared for what they'll face on a daily basis here. I know. You told me that ten years ago, old man.”

(And then she kisses his cheek but I digress)

If anything, I can totally see Ethan using his children when he verbally annihilates interns that fucked up really bad.

“My eight year old child could've done a better job than you did just now. And if you don't believe me, I'd be happy to bring him any day to demonstrate the proper way to put in an IV.”

[the-prophecy]

It's 1:30 and i realised that i probably have a thing for doctors-

[jerzwriter]

It's Christmastime - and Ethan is thoroughly unimpressed. Luckily, he has Kaycee to turn that around - but can she make it happen?

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,411 Summary: See above.

A/N: Participating in @choicesholidays winter event - New Traditions - they have a few in here! :) Also, @choicesdecember2024, I think Miracle is the best match! lol

The line felt like it stretched the entire length of the mall, accompanied by all the annoyances that came with it: frazzled parents, sugared-up kids, and the occasional beleaguered adult questioning their life choices. It didn’t take long to determine what group a tall, scowling doctor with his arms crossed in front of his chest belonged to. Ethan Ramsey was firmly in the last group, and Kaycee couldn’t have been more amused.

He should have expected this, she thought; after all, this was their second Christmas together, and he had already survived year one at her side. She smiled at him, the picture of holiday cheer in her red sweater adorned with tiny reindeer. That sweater wasn’t a split-second decision. No, Kaycee had taken months to find the perfect design and purchased two, one for each of them. Ethan was wearing his, too. It would be visible if he took off his leather jacket, but he had made it clear before they left his condo... he was NOT taking off his leather jacket.

Kaycee’s eyes were full of mischief as she gently nudged him with her elbow. “You’re awfully quiet today,” she said with a slight smile.

Ethan let out an exasperated sigh. “You dragged me here against my will. Can’t you just enjoy my silent suffering?”

Chuckling, she stepped closer and leaned into his side. “Stop it, grumpy! You enjoy this, too! You’re just too much of a curmudgeonly old man to admit it!”

He arched an eyebrow, looking at her with a frown. “Negative,” he deadpanned.

“Yes, you absolutely are!” Kaycee insisted. “You’re so lucky to have me here to fix all this bah-humbug of yours! Besides... remember what I promised you later... if  you’re a good sport.”

His demeanor seemed to change on a dime, the corners of his mouth twitching upward despite himself. He leaned in close and whispered so only she could hear him. “I seem to remember a promise that involved scanty red lingerie and mistletoe. Can you remind me of the other details again? It might make this whole experience a little more bearable?”

“Sorry, babe,” she answered with amusement. “There will be no reward until we finish the task at hand, and your chances are better if you do it with a smile on your face.”

The line continued to shuffle forward at an excruciatingly slow pace, and though he tried to contain it, Ethan’s grumbling continued. “This is ridiculous.” “You realize we’re adults, Kaycee.” “We really don’t belong here.”

She bit her lip to refrain from laughing, her amusement growing with each mumbled complaint. She peeked ahead and saw it wouldn’t be much longer; the jolly man in red was getting closer with every step. “Stop it, Ethan! You know I’m right about this.”

“Right? Right about what?”

“That this is going to be fun. Admit it—deep down, you’re excited.”

Ethan snorted. “The only thing I’m excited about is how you’ll be repaying me later.”

She looked up at him with a smirk and playfully punched his arm. “If you keep torturing me here, I may just renege on my promise!”

Ethan looked stricken. “You wouldn’t!”

Kaycee didn’t get a chance to answer as they finally reached the front of the line, where an overly excited elf dressed in green and red tights greeted them with an almost eerie smile. “Hi there! Are we going for the basic photo package or the deluxe? The deluxe comes with extra prints, digital downloads, and even a festive frame!”

Before Ethan could say a word, Kaycee jumped in. “Deluxe, please. I want as many prints as possible to send to all our friends and family.”

Ethan’s eyes went wide. “That was not part of the deal,” he protested.

Kaycee remained the picture of holiday bliss when she smiled at his side. “Ethan, but it’s Santa!”

How had he ended up here? He was almost forty. He should be home with a glass of spiked eggnog by the fireplace. He ran a hand down his face and grumbled. “This is absolutely absurd.”

He was about to complain more when a tiny voice from behind interrupted him. Ethan felt the little hand tugging at his jacket just before the words hit his ear. “Mister, are you saying you don’t believe in Santa Claus?”

Ethan froze, turning to find a little boy of no more than six staring up at him. His wide eyes were filled with innocence, almost begging Ethan to offer a reassuring response. Ethan glanced at the boy and then at his parents, standing behind him. They watched with an amused expression as they waited for his reply.

Ethan hadn’t asked for it, but in that moment, memories from his own childhood rose to the surface. When he was about this boy’s age, he would spend his whole year compiling lists for Santa, three to be exact. One was a compilation of all the good things he had done, and the second was confessions of the not-so-good stuff. That one had an attachment with explanations and how he attempted to atone.   Then, there was his Christmas wish list. Each year, when he wrote it, he was sure he wouldn’t receive most of the things he asked for. He might have been young, but he was smart enough to know his family was struggling. He could tell when his Mom put an extra sweater on him instead of turning up the heat, when his dad insisted on taking extra shifts even though he was tired, and when his parents would put a few items back before they checked out at the grocery store. He was young but bright, and he knew.

Yet, every Christmas morning, it seemed like a miracle took place. He had no idea how it happened, but most, if not all, that he wished for would be wrapped beautifully under the family Christmas tree. Back then, he took that as proof positive that Santa was real. There was no other way. He hadn’t thought about that for years, but standing before this little boy, he could feel the emotion welling inside.

There was magic during the holiday season. It didn’t come from mythical creatures in red suits or tiny reindeer – but from the people who loved us the most. It came from parents who worked hard to create that magic, including his own parents, who did without themselves just to see the look in his eyes on Christmas day.

It came in the form of the beautiful woman beaming at his side. The one who knew him better than he knew himself and was not about to let him spend the rest of his days thinking wonder and hope were something that had died long ago. She insisted they had a place in his grown-up life, and looking at her now, it was apparent, the message was received.

He knelt down to the child’s level, his voice soft and tender, his eyes warm. “Of course I believe in Santa Claus. Santa is all about the magic of the holiday season. And you know what? That magic is real. One hundred percent real.”

The boy’s eyes sparkled with his reply. “Really? You mean it!”

Ethan nodded, wrapping his arm around Kaycee, who was beaming up at him with so much affection it made his chest tighten. “Really. It’s all around us – it’s surrounding you and me.”

The boy grinned as he turned and hugged his parent’s knees, and Ethan met the gaze of the woman he loved. “YOU are all the magic I need,” he murmured placing a kiss atop her head. “Thank you for reminding me of who I used to be.”

Kaycee’s eyes filled with tears as she held him tight, he didn’t know it, but he had just given her the greatest gift of all.

“Uhm, so... the pictures?” The now irritated elf asked.

“You heard the lady,” Ethan stated. “The deluxe package, in fact, make it two!”

Before they stepped into the winter wonderland that served as a backdrop to Santa’s throne, Ethan turned to Kaycee once more. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he said with a smile she’d cherish for all time.

“Merry Christmas, Ethan,” she whispered back.

Ethan took her hand and led her down the candy cane-trimmed path toward Santa, knowing precisely what he’d say when the jolly man asked him what he wanted for Christmas. He already had his gift, and she was standing by his side.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[liaromancewriter]

I Thee Wed…

Premise: Ethan and Cassie are ready to say, ‘I do,’ but they forget one important step.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,560

A/N: So, I first did Ethan and Cassie's wedding in June 2021. In all that time, I've never written their wedding vows. Maxenna's vows were easier to write. Well, I finally cracked this nut! Yay, me 🎉

Submission for @choicesaugustchallenge prompt "summer wedding"

Cassie Valentine updated the patient chart and mentally crossed off another item from her seemingly endless to-do list. In just nine days, she would stand in the garden of her family home and marry her soulmate.

She couldn’t contain a small, excited scream, a dreamy smile spreading across her face as she imagined Ethan’s awestruck expression when she glided toward him at the floral-decked altar. But, she thought with a smirk, she couldn’t wait to knock him over on their wedding night with what she had on beneath the layers of tulle.

All in good time, Cassie reasoned, turning her attention back to work.

“Marlene?” she called to one of the regular nurses on her floor, handing over the tablet with the patient record. “Keep an eye on potassium levels for Mr. Dubois in 504. Page me if there’s any change in his condition.”

“Will do, Dr. Valentine,” Marlene nodded, scanning the chart quickly to confirm the orders.

She flashed Cassie a friendly smile. “Are you excited about the wedding? You and Dr. Ramsey make such a beautiful couple.”

“I’m counting the minutes,” Cassie grinned. “I have a final fitting for the dress next week, but otherwise, we’re all set.”

“Summer weddings are the best,” another nurse piped in. “Flowers are my favorite part.”

“I love hearing the couple’s vows,” Marlene said. “Are you and Dr. Ramsey writing your own?”

Cassie nodded in response, keeping her expression smooth even as alarm bells blared inside her head. Crap, crap, crap!

Between work, packing up her things at the apartment for the move to Ethan’s and coordinating with Sienna and her mom on the wedding, she had forgotten entirely about the vows.

She and Ethan had negotiated a hybrid ceremony, honoring her Episcopalian beliefs and his agnostic ones. He had agreed to have a priest officiate and receive a spiritual blessing in exchange for non-religious but personal vows, no Communion, hymns or readings.

Writing their own vows had sounded so simple before. A few words of promise, a declaration of their love, exchange rings and you-may-kiss-the-bride. End scene.

But now she realized it was anything but easy. Worse, she had no idea what she would say on the most important day of her life!

The pen dug into the paper, leaving dark, jagged lines on the legal pad as Ethan scratched out yet another sentence. His handwriting, usually neat and precise despite the doctor-like scrawl, had turned into a chaotic mess of crossed-out words and half-formed thoughts. Frustration simmered in his chest, his mind spinning as he tried to wrestle his emotions into something coherent.

He sighed, leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his temple. Sitting through a room full of demanding board members was a walk in the park compared to this. How was he supposed to find the words powerful enough to capture the depth of what he felt for Cassie?

Each attempt felt clumsy and inadequate, the words slipping away from him no matter how hard he tried. Irritated with himself, he muttered a curse under his breath, tearing the paper from the pad and crumpling it into a tight ball. It joined the other pieces of crumpled paper balls scattered around him.

Why had he insisted on their own vows? Should’ve just taken a template and been done with it.

He had been working on them all week and was no closer to the finish line. He had tried writing at home, in his office with the door closed and on a bench in the serenity garden at Edenbrook. Eventually, he retreated to Derry’s Coffee Shop in the hope that a place special to them both would inspire him.

The wedding was a week away, and he did not relish the idea of standing at the altar with nothing more to say than “I do” while Cassie no doubt recited something meaningful about him being her soulmate.

“Tough case?”

Startled, Ethan looked up to find Cassie standing above him.

He had been so absorbed in his frustrated scribbling that he hadn’t even noticed her enter the coffee shop, place her order and walk over to him.

“You could say that,” he hedged, hoping she wouldn’t press for more.

“Maybe I can help,” she suggested, sliding into the seat across from him.

Before he could stop her, she reached for the pad, and he blurted out, “No!” even as she read the words out loud.

“Cassie, my love for you is like an unspecified virus that I couldn’t shake….”

Ethan saw the look of shock on Cassie’s face. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened slightly. For a moment, they just stared at each other in stunned silence.

“Wait, are these your wedding vows? And did you just compare me to a virus?”

Ethan quickly tried to recover, realizing how the words sounded when said aloud. “I—I didn’t mean it like that. What I’m trying to say is that my love for you is something I never expected, something that took hold of me and changed everything.”

Cassie blinked, and then, to his relief, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Babe, I appreciate the on-brand medical analogy, especially since I diagnosed Naveen’s bacteriophage, but maybe we can find a less…clinical way to describe it? This is our wedding, after all, not a keynote at the AMA annual symposium.”

“A keynote at the AMA would be easier than these damn vows,” Ethan muttered, running an exasperated hand through his hair.

He picked up his coffee and looked at her over the rim. “I suppose you’ve already written a masterpiece?”

To his surprise, Cassie blushed and looked away. “Not exactly. If you must know, I kind of forgot about them.”

She waved one hand dismissively. “Anyway, this isn’t about me. If you’re struggling, just focus on us, our relationship—what makes me the one for you? How you see our life together. Things like that.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “That’s some solid advice.” He reached for his phone, unlocking the screen. “In fact, it’s almost identical to the advice I got from another Valentine just a couple of hours ago. Ah, here it is.” He turned the screen to show her the text from Max.

Cassie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That cheat!” She snatched the phone from Ethan’s hand, scrolling up to check the time stamp. It was from earlier in the day before she’d texted her brother. “He totally copy-pasted his response to me!”

Ethan chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Looks like great minds think alike…or at least steal from each other. When did you speak to him?”

Cassie gave him a sheepish look. “Maybe half an hour ago. ”

“Isn’t it the middle of the night where he is?”

She rolled her eyes and made a face. “I know. Max wasn’t thrilled, which is probably why I ended up with recycled advice.”

She straightened in her chair, a hint of frustration in her voice. “I can’t seem to find the right words for our vows. At least you managed to compare me to a virus—I’ve got a completely blank page.”

Ethan chuckled softly, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand gently. “How about we work on them together? We always did our best work figuring out diagnostic differentials as a team. Why should wedding vows be any different?”

Cassie’s smile widened. “Just promise you won’t tell my mother this is how we wrote our vows, or I’ll have to call you a big, fat liar!”

“Deal.”

Nine days later…

Ethan faced Cassie, a deep contentment settling over him, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. As he held her hands in his, the words that once eluded him now flowed as naturally as breathing.

“Cassie, when I first met you, I had no idea we’d end up here, but from that moment on, you’ve captivated me in ways I never imagined. You’ve challenged me, frustrated me and inspired me to be a better person. And I've fallen in love with you again and again, even though I didn’t believe love or family were in the cards for me. You opened my heart to more. I promise to support and encourage you, embrace the unexpected with you, and always work on being the best version of myself for you. I vow to hold your hand and cherish your heart, loving you always and forever.”

Cassie flashed a mischievous grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she held Ethan’s gaze, recalling the day they wrote these vows. Her voice was light and playful as she began, making it clear she was savoring every moment.

“Ethan, from the moment you walked into my life—full of arrogance, calling me an amateur—everything changed in ways I never could have predicted. I told you then I was your biggest fan, but that barely scratched the surface of my feelings for you. I can’t imagine a single day without you, and I hope I never do. I promise to stand by your side, to love you fiercely—even when you’re driving me a little crazy—and to choose you every day, no matter what. You are my partner, my soulmate and my greatest adventure. I vow to cherish your heart with all that I am, always and forever.”

And then they lived happily ever after…

------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso

@mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16

@justyourusualash @tessa-liam @liaficreplies @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[cariantha]

Cupid Effed Up

Book: Open Heart, Book 1 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Category: Fluffy Angst Word count: 1.8K Prompt: From @jerzwriter, “An intern year fic where someone leaves a heart-shaped box of chocolates for Sawyer, and Ethan tries to find out who it is… without anyone realizing he's doing it, and of course, he fails! Song Inspiration: Stupid Cupid by Jenna Raine

Ethan’s ears perked up when he heard the crinkling of plastic, light footsteps, and soft sniffling just outside the door of Naveen’s secret location. When Sawyer pushed her way through the slightly ajar door, he took one look at her face, then two urgent strides forward to block her entry into the room. She stared up at him with a red-tipped nose, watery eyes, and swollen eyelids, and his hand immediately went to her forehead to check her temperature. 

“You can’t be here if you’re sick,” he admonished, his strong fingers now delicately massaging the underside of her jaw to check for swollen lymph nodes. 

She subtly shook her head with his hands still cupping the sides of her neck. Her voice hoarse and nasally, she replied, “I know. I’m not sick.”  

Sawyer’s skin heated and flushed, but not from fever. Ethan’s intense gaze was too much for her itchy, burning eyes, and a tear trickled down her cheek. A swipe of his thumb caught it just before it rolled off her face.

“Did something happen? Did someone upset you?” he asked, unable to hide his protective instinct where she was concerned.

It had been a couple of weeks since their trip to Miami. The guilt of his actions weighed heavily on him. Guilt for allowing her to help in his desperate quest to save his mentor’s life, and especially for losing his control on the hotel room balcony. If Sawyer were to be harmed in any way, from gossip, accusation, or disciplinary action, because he had been too weak to resist her, he would never forgive himself. 

“No… it’s just the roses,” she answered breathlessly, overwhelmed by his concern. 

“Roses?” he repeated softly, his eyes lowering to her lips when she spoke.

“Yeah, I’m allergic. A few bouquets were delivered to the nurses’ station. They got to me when I was charting. That’s all.”

A loud, dry cough startled them. Ethan dropped his hands and took a large step back. Their attention snapped to the apologetic man lying in the bed with a handkerchief held to his mouth. 

Naveen shook his head, disappointed in himself. “Sorry, kids,” he wheezed, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Ethan stopped at the nurses' desk midday, barking orders. He demanded that the floral arrangements decorating the countertop be removed immediately, reminding the nurses behind the desk that patients can be highly sensitive, not to mention they were taking up too much space. 

Maureen apologized to the grumpy doctor and started toward the staff lounge with a vase full of red roses and baby’s breath. Danny was called to assist a patient, leaving Ethan alone at the circular desk to review his charts.

“Excuse me? I have a delivery for Dr. Sawyer Brooks. The receptionist in the lobby directed me to this floor.”

“She’s tied up with a patient at the moment.” Too curious to stop himself, Ethan offered to sign for the delivery. “I can make sure she gets it.” He signed the man’s tablet and was handed a large heart-shaped box of gourmet chocolates. “Who should I tell her they’re from?” he tried. 

“Sorry, sir, they don’t give me that info. But there’s a card attached.” The delivery person nodded to a small envelope taped to the box before returning the way he came. 

Sawyer suddenly appeared out of nowhere, reaching for a tissue to blow her nose. “Hey.” When she noticed the box of chocolates he was holding, her stomach twisted into an uncomfortable, jealous knot. “Treats from your Valentine?”  

“No, they’re actually for you,” Ethan answered. 

“Really?” Sawyer beamed brightly and came around the desk to stand in front of him. She removed the card from the envelope and read the note. 

Since you are allergic to roses… From a secret admirer

Her stomach was still twisted up but now from an entirely different emotion. It felt a lot like hope. 

Sawyer tucked the card back into the envelope and slipped it into her lab coat pocket. Her fingers appreciatively grazed Ethan’s as she took the box from his grasp. “Thank you…” 

“Sorry to interrupt, but can you tell me where I can find room 510,” a young woman asked, “I have a delivery for… uh… Theresa Martinez?” 

Maureen intercepted as she returned. “I can take them to her,” she said before catching herself and turning to Ethan. “That is, if it’s okay with you, Dr. Ramsey?” 

Ethan grunted his approval and marched away. 

“I’ll move these others, Maureen,” Danny offered, having caught the tail end of the exchange. 

Sawyer turned to the nurses, reaching for another tissue. “What’s his deal with the flowers?” 

The nurses looked up at her blotchy face and then at each other with knowing smirks. Maureen looked back to Sawyer and answered, “He wants us to get rid of the flowers because some people are highly sensitive.”   

💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

Mid-afternoon, Sawyer took a break in the lounge with her roommates. Sienna and Jackie picked their favorites from her enormous box of chocolates.

“A secret admirer? I bet they’re from Bryce,” Sienna quickly guessed. “That boy has it bad for you.” 

“The scalpel jockey?” Jackie rolled her eyes. “Please. He’d more likely give her a coupon book offering his services.” 

“Oh, what about Rafael? He’s such a sweetheart,” Sienna gushed. “When was the last time you guys went out?”

“It was before the holidays, and it’s not like that between us. We’re just friends.” 

“My money is on Landry,” Jackie said, popping a truffle into her mouth, “that weirdo puts off serious secret admirer slash stalker vibes.” 

Sienna laughed out loud, and Sawyer rolled her eyes.  

The air shifted when their attending stomped into the room to wash his coffee mug, giving them a menacing get-back-to-work glare. Sienna and Jackie promptly got the message and scurried away, but Sawyer just rolled her eyes again. He didn’t intimidate her anymore.  

“Eth- I mean, Dr. Ramsey, do you want a chocolate or two before I put them away?” 

“No, thank you.” The thought of eating something another man gifted her made his stomach sour. 

“Are you feeling okay today?” Sawyer teased as she put the lid back on the box. “You never turn down chocolate.” 

He didn’t answer. 

“O-kay, then. I’m going to return these to my locker and get back to work. See ya later, boss.”

When Ethan finished at the sink, he turned and spotted the lab coat left behind. Even if he hadn’t known Sawyer was sitting in that seat, he’d have known it was hers from the subtle hint of beach-scented body spray. It was a scent that now tortuously conjured memories of a moonlit ocean, swaying coconut palms, fresh sea breeze, and the subtle taste of salt in the air. And on her lips. 

It was a night he regretted. However, he couldn’t decide if he regretted it more for what did or didn’t happen. 

Ethan draped the coat over his arm. He would catch up to her in the locker room. But as he stepped toward the door, a little devil appeared on his shoulder with another idea, and giving into temptation, he reached into the pocket of the white coat.  

Despite the impossibility of their situation, the thought of her affections shifting to another was a hard pill to swallow. A pill that no amount of vending machine candy could make better. Hesitating, with the small envelope pinched between his fingers, he silently debated with the evil voice whispering in his ear. 

As he was about to lose the argument, Sawyer appeared in the doorway. “I forgot my lab coat…” 

When her eyes fixed on the card in his hand, he passed it to her. “I found this on the floor. Must have slipped from of your pocket,” he lied. 

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

At the end of her shift, Sawyer snuck behind the plastic entrance of the construction zone. She brought her box of chocolates to share with Naveen, knowing the small treats would brighten his day. Finding him napping, she set her things down and left to find fresh bed linens. 

Ethan entered the off-limits hospital room a few minutes later. Checking Naveen’s vitals, something behind the patient monitor caught his eye. It was that taunting heart-shaped box. 

Glancing at Naveen to ensure he was still asleep, Ethan stepped up to where the box sat atop the overbed table. The corner of an envelope peeked out just underneath. He began to lift the box when he was startled.

"You can have a piece if you want," he heard from behind.

Sawyer stood smiling in the doorway, a stack of clean sheets and blankets in her hands.

"Oh, uh... thanks… I was just checking to see if they had nuts," he lied for the second time today. Trying to spin up a joke, he added, "Given your allergy history, I just wanted to know if I should track down an EpiPen.”

"You and I both know neither of us is allergic, so.."

Shit. He should have said he was looking for the descriptions of what’s inside each chocolate. “Fine. You caught me. I was curious to know who they were from," he confessed.

Disappointment painted her face. "Oh. I thought they were from you," she said, digging for the card in her pocket. The card on the table was a friendly Valentine’s Day card for Naveen that Sawyer picked up in the gift shop.

“Why did you think that?” Ethan asked, trying not to sound like a jerk.

“I mean, you handed me the box and said they were for me, and when I read the note… I just assumed…” she trailed off, confused. She pulled the card from the envelope, reread it, and handed it to Ethan. 

As his eyes scanned the notecard, Sawyer caught Naveen cracking an eyelid open just enough to spy on them.

"You! You little stinker," she laughed, grabbing his foot and shaking it gently. “Are you my secret Valentine?”

Ethan spun around to see his mentor shrug. 

After changing the bed linens and helping Ethan get Naveen settled for the evening, Sawyer said her goodbyes. When she asked Ethan if she’d see him later at Donahue’s, he answered with a disappointing “Maybe.” A stiff drink was what the doctor ordered, but he wasn’t sure it was worth the torture of watching other men hit on her all night.  

Naveen studied Ethan as he sank into the bedside chair. His mentee closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed deeply.

Ethan grumbled in annoyance, “Why would you do that?” 

“Do what, son?” 

“Get her hopes up…” 

“Because Cupid made a perfect match for you,” Naveen smiled. “I was just encouraging it.”

“Yeah, well, don’t.”

“Why not?”

Ethan stood up and walked to the door. Before closing it behind him, he glanced over his shoulder and said, “Because Cupid fucked up. He brought me someone I can’t have.” 

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

A/N: With my interests shifting, any more OH fics I write will be for personal enjoyment and escape moving forward. While I sincerely appreciate each and every ❤️ and reblog I've ever received, especially when I first started writing, it's not about that for me anymore. And as much as I want to continue supporting other OH writer friends by reading and reblogging, I want to be honest and admit that my heart's not in it as much. From this point forward, I will only tag the Choices and OH fanfic directories for those who still enjoy reading new OH fics or have yet to fall in love with a grumpy doctor and find their way to this little corner of the world.😊

[ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey]

(Open heart on fire re-write, the one where MC is not MIA.)

Ethan Ramsey strode through the corridors of Edenbrook, his steps brisk and purposeful. It had been just over a year since he’d taken the position of Chief, and while the job was certainly not without its challenges—paperwork, meetings, administrative headaches—there was a quiet satisfaction in it.

The kind of satisfaction that he would never openly admit, of course. After all, this was Ethan Ramsey; complaining was second nature. He had a knack for finding the flaws, the inefficiencies, and the countless ways things could be better. Yet, amidst the grumbling, there was a thrill to the position—a sense of ownership and control over the medicine he had devoted his life to.

But it wasn’t just the job that gave him that feeling. There was something, or rather someone, who had made this past year feel different. His gaze drifted to the diagnostic wing as he walked, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The thing he adored most about his role wasn’t found in policy changes or budget meetings; it was the fact that Elle worked just a few corridors away. Their paths crossed often—sometimes by coincidence, sometimes not. The days were busier, more unpredictable now, but he loved the way his heart skipped whenever he saw her coming down the hallway or caught a glimpse of her in the midst of a case. It was like they were connected by an invisible thread, always pulling them back to each other, no matter how chaotic the hospital became. Even now, as he walked the familiar halls, he felt the pull, an unspoken anticipation humming beneath his cool exterior.

As he rounded a corner, he could see Harper talking animatedly to a group of interns near the elevators, her sharp eyes catching his the second he approached. A brief nod was exchanged between them—a silent acknowledgment that he was, indeed, doing what he did best—keeping things running smoothly, but also always keeping an eye out for her. Because as much as he was Chief, Ethan Ramsey was also still very much a doctor. And part of being a doctor meant knowing where his most important people were. Especially when one of them was Elle.

Although, that morning, Ethan had woken up to find Elle still in bed, her face flushed and her voice thick with congestion. She’d caught a nasty cold, the kind that left her sniffling and coughing weakly under a pile of blankets. It was clear she wasn’t in any shape to make it to work, but she had insisted he go in anyway. She’d given him that familiar, stubborn look, the one that said she wasn’t to be argued with, even though she was barely able to sit up without a bout of coughing. “You’re Chief now, Ethan,” she’d said, her voice hoarse yet determined. “You have to be there. No arguments.” He’d lingered by her side, reluctant to leave her alone while she was sick, but eventually, after a lot of gentle persuasion on her part, he’d relented. It was typical Elle, putting him and the hospital before herself, and he couldn’t help but admire her even as he worried. So, with a soft kiss to her forehead and a promise to check in between cases, he had pulled on his lab coat and headed out the door, her insistence echoing in his mind as he left.

Ethan pulled out his phone, standing just outside the Diagnostics Team’s workspace. With a quick swipe, he opened a new message to Elle, his fingers moving swiftly across the screen:

How are you feeling? Did you get any rest? I’ll be home as soon as I can. Let me know if you need anything.

He hit send, his mind half-focused on Elle as he slid his phone back into his coat pocket. Without thinking, he turned the corner—and immediately collided with Harper Emery, nearly sending her files spilling to the floor.

“Ethan!” Harper exclaimed, catching herself and laughing a bit. “You’ve really got to watch where you’re going. Distracted, huh? You look like a lost puppy.”

Ethan took a step back, his expression neutral as he steadied her by the elbow. “Sorry, Harper,” he said, his voice a bit clipped. “Just trying to check in on Elle.”

Harper raised an eyebrow, her expression softening. “She’s off today, isn’t she? Is she alright?”

Ethan sighed, a subtle frustration seeping into his posture as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, she’s got some kind of cold,” he said, his voice a mix of concern and exhaustion. “Elle insisted I come in, said it’s nothing serious. But you know how she is—stubborn as hell.”

Harper nodded knowingly. “She never does things halfway, does she?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Ethan admitted, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “She’d drag herself in if I let her. But I told her to stay home and rest.” He dropped his hand from his face, looking directly at Harper. “It’s just… hard not to worry.”

“Well,” Harper said, her tone shifting to something lighter, “if she’s as tough as you say, she’ll be back before you know it. In the meantime, we need you here, Chief. Diagnostics could use your brain today.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly, the familiar walls of the hospital settling him back into his role. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Harper,” he replied dryly, though there was a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

Before Harper could respond, a deafening explosion rocked the building, rattling the windows and sending a powerful shockwave through the hospital. The ceiling above them cracked, releasing a shower of dust and debris as an ear-splitting roar filled the air. Alarms blared instantly, drowning out any coherent sounds, and the floor seemed to tremble beneath their feet.

In an instinctive, protective motion, Ethan threw his arm around Harper’s shoulders, yanking her down and shielding her with his body as chunks of the ceiling gave way, slamming onto the floor with a thunderous crash just inches from where they stood. Plaster and metal rained down around them, filling the air with a choking cloud of dust. The acrid smell of smoke hit his nostrils almost immediately, thick and suffocating, forcing him to breathe shallowly.

Ethan’s heart pounded in his chest, the adrenaline searing through his veins, and he turned quickly, scanning the hall for any signs of immediate danger. “Harper!” he barked, his voice rough with urgency as he pulled her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, eyes wide, her face pale with shock. “No, I’m okay,” she managed to say, but the words were barely audible over the cacophony of alarms.

Through the settling dust, Ethan could see the panic starting to unfold. Staff and patients alike were scrambling, shouts and cries blending into a chaotic symphony of fear. He had no time to think, only to act. “We need to move!” he said, gripping Harper’s arm tighter, guiding her through the rubble-strewn corridor.

They stumbled forward, dodging debris as they fought their way down the smoke-filled hallway. The lights flickered ominously, casting eerie shadows across the chaos that had suddenly enveloped Edenbrook. With every step, the situation seemed to grow more dire—plumes of smoke curling up from the fissures in the walls, the distant sound of shattering glass echoing like a warning.

Ethan’s mind raced, his instincts overriding any sense of personal safety. He knew the protocols, knew what he had to do, but as the floor buckled beneath his feet, he couldn’t help but think of Elle—sick and vulnerable, alone in their apartment while the world seemed to be falling apart around him.

“Stay low!” he shouted to Harper as they pressed on, his gaze shifting towards the exit signs glowing dimly through the haze. His only goal now was to get to the source of the chaos and make sure they could stabilize whatever the hell had just happened before it got any worse.

Ethan’s mind flashed back to the mandatory fire training they’d all gone through—the RACE protocol drilled into them year after year: Rescue, Alarm, Confine, Extinguish. It was all muscle memory now, taking over as his logical mind raced to keep up with the chaos. As Harper sprinted towards the closest fire exit, he felt the weight of his responsibility settle firmly on his shoulders. He had to take charge.

“Nurse!” he called out to a nearby staff member, urgency sharpening his voice. “Clear the hallways and get anyone in immediate danger to a safe place!”

He moved further down the smoke-filled corridor, his steps quick and purposeful, scanning for any sign of immediate danger. As he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with Jackie and Bryce, both of them looking wide-eyed but focused amid the chaos.

“Dr. Varma,” he said, locking eyes with Jackie, his voice calm despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins. “Assess how many patients need assistance with transport. We have to prioritize them.”

Jackie gave a sharp nod, determination replacing the fear on her face.

“On it, Dr. Ramsey,” she replied, turning swiftly to begin her task. She disappeared into the smoke, her footsteps already fading.

Ethan pivoted to face Bryce. “Lahela,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “Inspect all windows and doors. Keep them shut. We can’t risk feeding the fire with any oxygen from outside.”

Bryce didn’t hesitate, giving a quick salute before sprinting towards the nearest corridor, shutting doors as he went.

Jackie’s voice cut through the confusion, her tone edged with worry as she looked back at Ethan. “Do we have any idea what that explosion was?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides as he tried to maintain control over his rising anger. “Could be oxygen tanks,” he said, his eyes flickering over the debris scattered around them. “We won’t know for sure until the fire department gets here,” he added, a hard edge to his voice. He couldn’t hide his frustration, a mix of worry and impatience boiling just beneath the surface. “If they ever get here.”

The uncertainty gnawed at him. As much as he trusted his instincts and the training he’d been through countless times, it was impossible to predict what kind of situation they were dealing with until the experts arrived. For now, all he could do was make sure his team was in control and keep everyone safe.

Ethan shook off the lingering irritation that gnawed at him. This wasn’t the time to lose focus. “Get back to your tasks, and make sure the doors are closed behind you!” he barked at Jackie and Bryce, watching as they moved swiftly back into action.

He circled back to the atrium, eyes scanning the chaotic scene. Nurses were guiding patients to the exits, some wheeling stretchers, others ushering those who could walk on their own. It was a practiced chaos, the kind Ethan thrived in. He quickly assigned more staff to ensure each patient was accounted for and directed towards safety.

Suddenly, a frantic voice rose above the cacophony. Ethan turned sharply, spotting a teenage girl who looked overwhelmed, her eyes wide with terror. “Someone, please help! My brother—I can’t find him!” she cried, her hands shaking.

Ethan was at her side in an instant, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring despite the chaos swirling around them. “Take a deep breath. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Alicia!” A voice called out from behind, cutting off the girl’s frantic reply. Ethan’s gaze whipped around, and he spotted a firefighter emerging through the thick smoke. In his arms, he carried a young boy, coughing and dazed but seemingly unharmed.

Relief washed over the girl—Alicia—as she rushed to her brother’s side. The firefighter, with his perfectly styled brunette hair and a jawline that looked chiseled out of marble, barely had a smudge of ash on him. Ethan’s gratitude mingled with a flash of annoyance, the man looking more like a plastic firefighter Ken doll than someone who had just dragged a child out of a burning building.

Ethan watched as the firefighter handed his helmet to the boy, a wide grin spreading across Cody’s face. “Cody! Thank god you’re okay!” Alicia sobbed, pulling her brother into a tight embrace.

Phoenix, the firefighter who’d carried Cody out, crouched down to ruffle the kid’s hair. “He’s gonna be just fine, don’t worry,” he said warmly. “Cody, why don’t you tell your sister how brave you were?”

Cody beamed, standing a little taller. “Firefighter Phoenix says maybe one day, I can join the squad!” he announced proudly.

With a hearty chuckle, Phoenix placed his oversized helmet on the boy’s head, tilting it until it sat just right. “Looks good to me. What do you think?” he asked, winking at Alicia.

Ethan, arms folded, let out a soft scoff under his breath. Figures the flame jockey would be a softie, he thought. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to be professional. “You did a good thing there,” he acknowledged, nodding to Phoenix. “The poor kid was out of her mind before you got here.”

Phoenix’s warm expression cooled instantly as he turned to Ethan, his eyes narrowing. “Let me guess, you’re the stooge in charge here,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Ethan felt his jaw tighten. “I am… Dr. Ethan Ramsey, Chief of Medicine,” he replied, barely containing the irritation that flared within him. “And you are…?”

“Shea Phoenix,” the firefighter shot back, “Battalion Chief, Engine 57. I need you to get your people on top of evacuation.”

Ethan’s frown deepened, his voice firm. “We are on top of evacuation, Phoenix. There isn’t a smoke alarm going off because a tray of cookies burnt.” He glared at the firefighter, who seemed unfazed. “Hospitals have protocols that best serve our patients—protocols which you should be familiar with—”

Phoenix waved him off, turning away mid-sentence. “Amelia!” he barked over his shoulder. “Make sure the flames are contained at the point of origin.”

Ignoring the frustration boiling in his chest, Ethan forced himself to focus. Phoenix’s arrogance was infuriating, but there were bigger priorities. Phoenix turned back to him, his face all business. “Ramsey, I need to secure electrical power,” he said, voice clipped. “Where’s a map of your systems?”

Ethan paused, caught off guard. “I—I’ll get it,” he said, suppressing a flash of annoyance.

“I also need to know where your generator room is, which areas are supported by emergency power?” Phoenix pressed, his expression unyielding. “Stat.”

Ethan drew in a slow, calming breath, reigning in his temper. “I’m happy to help,” he said through clenched teeth, his thoughts boiling. Help get your pompous ass out of my hair, that is. He handed over the information Phoenix needed, then quickly resumed organizing the evacuation, determined not to let the firefighter’s attitude get in the way of his focus.

After what felt like an eternity, the evacuation was complete. Patients and staff gathered outside the hospital, huddled in groups as the fire department worked to ensure the building’s safety. Ethan stood apart from the others, arms crossed as he watched Phoenix confer with his team, the smoke clearing in the morning light.

Phoenix walked over, standing shoulder to shoulder with Ethan. For a long moment, they said nothing, just staring at the charred windows and smoke-stained walls of Edenbrook. Finally, Ethan broke the silence with a heavy sigh. “I appreciate your help,” he said, his tone measured, “despite the fact that it is literally your job.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“But,” Ethan continued, his voice softening, “everyone is safe thanks to you. I owe you one.”

For a second, the fire chief looked surprised. Then, he nodded, the smirk fading to something more genuine. “Just doing what I’m trained to do, Doc,” he said. “But you and your team kept it together. We were a damn good team today.”

Ethan gave a reluctant nod, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t often he met someone as stubborn and relentless as himself. “Just don’t expect me to say that twice,” he muttered.

Ethan stepped back inside Edenbrook, his sharp gaze sweeping over the first floor. There was some smoke damage—blackened patches here and there on the walls and ceilings—but nothing catastrophic. The firefighters had done an impressive job containing the flames to the second floor. For the first time since the chaos began, he allowed himself to exhale, relief mingling with grudging admiration. Guess the flame jockeys are good for something, he thought.

He felt the unmistakable presence of Phoenix behind him, the firefighter’s broad shadow stretching across the floor. “You look like you’re choking on praise there, Doc,” Phoenix said, a teasing edge in his voice. “It won’t kill you to admit I know what I’m doing.”

Ethan smirked, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re right,” he said, his voice dry, “but it might take a year off my life.”

Phoenix laughed, the sound echoing in the hallway, carrying a hint of camaraderie beneath the banter. “Nothing’s gonna topple that ego of yours, is it, Doc?” he challenged, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Ethan let out a weary sigh, crossing his arms. “You can’t talk,” he shot back. “Yours is as big as mine.”

Phoenix’s grin widened, and for a second, the tension between them eased, the lingering scent of smoke and the distant crackle of radios fading into the background. “Touché,” Phoenix conceded, nodding in acknowledgment. “But let’s just agree it’s our egos that got the job done today.”

“Maybe,” Ethan allowed, his eyes flicking to the scorched stairs leading to the second floor. “Or maybe it’s because, for once, we didn’t get in each other’s way.”

Phoenix chuckled, clapping Ethan on the shoulder with a heavy, calloused hand. “I’ll take that as the closest thing to a compliment I’m gonna get.”

Ethan shook his head, a reluctant smile pulling at his lips. “Don’t push it, Phoenix,” he warned, but there was no heat behind his words. They stood there a moment longer, two men who’d just gone toe-to-toe with disaster, silently acknowledging the uneasy respect that had begun to take root between them.

The entire afternoon had been a blur, a nonstop whirlwind of assessing, stabilizing, and coordinating the aftermath of the explosion. The doctors and firefighters worked together with the kind of synchronicity that only comes from experience, their movements efficient and precise. As the last of the smoke finally dissipated, the sun had long dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow over the hospital grounds. Ethan glanced at the clock, the exhaustion of the day pressing down on his shoulders. Edenbrook and Engine 57 had made a pretty damn good team, he had to admit.

Standing near the paperwork, Ethan read through the reports one last time. “Not one single casualty. I’m impressed,” he murmured to no one in particular.

Phoenix, who had been standing nearby, looked over his shoulder at the paper and grinned. “Careful, Ramsey. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

Ethan smirked, shaking his head. “My mistake,” he replied dryly, “it wasn’t meant to be.”

Phoenix chuckled quietly, but his expression softened as he grew more serious. “Well, I don’t know about you, but after today, I’m in desperate need of a drink. You and your team should join us.”

Ethan paused for a moment, the thought of some well-deserved R&R tempting him more than he’d care to admit. After the madness of the day, it wasn’t a bad idea. “I think we’ve earned a Scotch at Donahue’s,” he said with a grin.

“Excellent choice.”

Donahue’s was one of those old-school bars that seemed to capture the essence of a long, hard day’s work. The dim lights cast a golden glow over the aged wooden tables and the mismatched bar stools. The air was thick with chatter, laughter, and the sound of glasses clinking together as the crew from Edenbrook and Engine 57 relived the chaos they’d just survived. The bar smelled faintly of whiskey and wood polish, and the music in the background was a steady hum of classic rock—nothing too loud, just enough to settle into a rhythm as people relaxed.

Ethan and Phoenix found their way to the bar, where Reggie, the bartender, greeted them with a smile that said he’d seen his fair share of trouble over the years.

Ethan leaned against the counter. “Whiskey, did you say?” he asked, his tone more curious than anything.

Phoenix nodded, tapping the bar with his fingers. “Neat.”

Ethan turned to Reggie, ordering their drinks. “A Scotch and a whiskey, please.”

Reggie nodded and made his way down the bar to prepare the drinks. As he returned, Ethan lifted his glass towards Phoenix. “Here’s to being chief,” Ethan said, his voice carrying a tone of both respect and humor. “It’s a tough job…”

Phoenix smirked, clinking his glass against Ethan’s with a quiet clink. “But someone’s gotta do it.”

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. “Took the words right out of my mouth. Kind of annoying how you keep doing that.”

Phoenix’s eyes swept around the room, scanning the familiar faces and the cozy atmosphere of the bar. “It’s no O’Malley’s,” he remarked, “but it’s pretty nice here.”

Ethan smirked back, the warmth of the Scotch easing some of the tension in his shoulders. “Well, one perk is that it’s usually not filled with firefighters.”

Phoenix shook his head, grinning. “Ha-ha. How do you command such a solid team when you’re such a pain in the ass?”

Ethan took another sip of his drink, considering Phoenix’s question with a thoughtful expression. “Healthy combination of fear and the promise of occasional after-work drinks.”

As the two men exchanged a look of amusement, Ethan’s phone rang, cutting through the banter. He glanced at the screen, his expression changing as he saw the name—Elle. Along with the call, a flood of missed messages popped up, all from her.

“Hold on a sec,” Ethan said, holding up a hand to Phoenix as he stepped away from the bar, his tone more serious. “I’ll be right back.”

Ethan answered the phone, his voice warm and familiar. “Hi gorgeous, you okay?”

On the other end, Elle sounded much better than she had earlier that morning. Her voice was soft, relaxed, and it made Ethan’s heart skip just a little. “Yup, I just wanted to see what you wanted to order for dinner? Have you eaten yet?”

Ethan tried to hide the smile that tugged at his lips as he glanced at Phoenix, who was eyeing him with curiosity. “Don’t worry about me tonight, you order what you like. Put it on my card, okay?”

Elle’s laugh filtered through the phone, and Ethan couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. “Okaay? Why are you being so sweet?”

He grinned to himself, a playful glint in his eyes. “Am I not always sweet?”

“I’d rather not answer that,” Elle teased, a faint smile audible in her tone. “When will you be home?”

Ethan glanced at the clock. 21:04. His thoughts immediately turned to Elle, and the thought of heading home after the chaos of the day felt like a welcome reprieve. “Give me half an hour, I’ll be there.”

“Okay. I love you. See you soon.”

Ethan’s heart warmed at her words, and he allowed himself to indulge in the sentiment for just a moment before responding. “I love you, see you soon.”

As he hung up, he turned to Phoenix, who had a knowing look on his face. Ethan quickly turned away, trying to brush it off, but the slight flush in his cheeks betrayed him. “What?” he muttered, keeping his tone casual as he picked up his drink.

Phoenix says nothing, only smiling for a moment before speaking

“You seem like a lucky man.”

Ethan paused for a moment, his fingers tightening around his glass as he glanced up at Phoenix. The comment, though lighthearted, hit a little closer to home than he expected. He took a slow sip of his drink, trying to keep his expression neutral.

“Maybe,” Ethan replied, his voice a little softer than usual. “But luck doesn’t always have much to do with it.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Oh?”

Ethan shrugged, setting his glass down. “No, it’s more about timing… and not taking things for granted.” He glanced back at his phone, checking the time again, the weight of the day starting to pull at him. “And knowing what you have when you have it.”

Phoenix studied him for a moment, nodding slowly as if understanding something unspoken. “I guess that makes sense. You seem like a guy who knows what he’s doing.”

Ethan smiled faintly, his thoughts drifting back to Elle. “Sometimes it feels like the hardest part is just holding on to what you’ve got.”

Phoenix gave a half laugh, clearly impressed. “I like your style, Ramsey.”

Ethan gave a quick nod, finishing his drink before standing. “Thanks, Shea. But, duty calls.” He gave the firefighter a nod of acknowledgment, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Well, go get your lady, Doc,” Phoenix said with a grin. “She sounds like a keeper.”

Ethan’s eyes softened. “She is,” he said quietly, before turning to leave the bar and head home.

[potionsprefect]

After The Celebration

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Summary: It’s the day after the hearing

Rating: General Audiences

Category: Fluff, Angst

Victoria watched him walk away, planning in her head how she was going to explain to Sienna and Elijah what they just saw. She wasn’t embarrassed, but she would’ve preferred that they didn’t see Ethan, mainly to save him some face.

Victoria headed back into the building and got in the lift. Last night with Ethan was amazing but she knew it would come to an end soon. She knew there has to be distance between them but still, she couldn’t help but feel sadness at the thought of never being that close with him again.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the lift doors opening on her floor and Victoria walked back to her apartment, unlocking the door. To her disappointment, Sienna and Elijah were still in their spots, grinning at her as she walked in.

“So.” Sienna said, setting down her spoon.

“So what?” Victoria said in a high pitched voice that even surprised her.

“Oh come on Victoria. What was all that about?” Elijah said.

“Honestly? It was something that has now come to an end.” Victoria said.

“So there was something before?” Sienna asked.

“Yes. But it’s nothing now. And that’s how it’s staying.” Victoria said.

“I can’t believe it! You and Doctor Ramsey! When did it start?” Elijah said.

“He was helping me with the investigation. And then one thing led to another.”

“I didn’t realise he liked you like that.” Elijah said.

“Does anyone else know?” Sienna asked.

“No. We were careful to make sure people didn’t find out. It could’ve caused more problems.”

“So why has it now come to an end?” Elijah said.

“Because if we’re going to work together then we can’t be together. Because he would be accused of favouritism and I’d be accused of sleeping my way into the role. I couldn’t deal with anymore talk of me.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide because of that. People should learn to mind their own business.” Sienna said.

“He said no. That’s why we had last night.” Victoria replied.

“I’m sorry Victoria.” Sienna sighed.

“Don’t be. I’m okay. I knew it wasn’t going very far anyway but the hope was there.” Victoria shrugged

“You seem to be taking it well.” Elijah said.

“You know me. Always putting on a brave face.”

“But you shouldn’t have to! Maybe you should talk to Ethan and try and change his mind.” Sienna said.

“I’ve thought about it, believe me. Many times if truth be told. But I see his point. And Ethan is usually right so I can’t see why he would be wrong. But maybe one day. For now, we need to stay friends. And I don’t want to jeopardise our friendship.” Victoria replied.

“I didn’t realise Doctor Ramsey had many friends.” Elijah laughed.

“Victoria seems to be one of only a few.” Sienna laughed.

“He may have a hard exterior but deep down he is really nice.” Victoria said.

The door to one of the bedrooms opened and Jackie walked out, hair dishevelled and eyes puffy. “Morning.” She just about said before slumping down into the spare chair.

“How much did you drink last night?” Sienna laughed.

“Enough for a very good reason. Slightly regretting it now though.” Jackie laid her head on the table.

“Well you’ve missed the relationship of the century.” Elijah joked.

“It’s not a relationship!” Victoria said.

“Why what’s happened?”

Sienna and Elijah turned to Victoria, smirks on their faces.

“Doctor Ramsey.” Victoria said.

“What about him?” Jackie asked.

“Me and Doctor Ramsey.”

“Oh… oh?! Wait what? When did this happen?” Jackie sat up.

“Last night.” Sienna said.

“Actually…” Victoria trailed off. “There was another time.”

“You mean this isn’t the first?” Elijah said.

“No. But after last night, there will be no more.” Victoria said.

“Why did you not go back to Ethan’s?” Sienna asked.

“Surely you’ve been to his apartment? What’s it like?” Elijah said.

“I still can’t wrap my head around it. You and Doctor Ramsey?” Jackie said.

“I know. But it just happened. We didn’t plan it.” Victoria replied.

“What happens now?” Jackie said.

“Nothing. Last night happened and that’s it. We can’t be in a relationship and work on the same team. It wouldn’t end well.” Victoria said.

“Who cares what anyone else thinks. It’s your life!” Jackie said.

“I know but it has to be this way.” Victoria said.

“Anyway…” Sienna said changing the subject. She could see that Victoria was getting uncomfortable with the constant questions. “You had something to ask us didn’t you Victoria?”

Victoria sensed Sienna was helping her out. “Yes! I was wondering how you would all feel about Aurora moving into the spare room.”

“I thought she was living with Harper?” Elijah said.

“She was but after the year, she says she needs some space from her Aunt. I said we have a room but I’d have to ask you lot first.” Victoria said.

“I’m fine with it. She like all of us deserves a fresh start.” Sienna said.

“Me too.” Elijah agreed.

Everyone turned to Jackie who looked at them incredulously. “Why are you looking at me like that? I’m fine with it. I’m too hungover to retort.”

“Then that settles it.” Victoria laughed getting up. “I’ll let her know.”

She headed back to her room, shutting the door behind her and reaching for her phone on the bedside. Victoria quickly text Aurora the good news before she turned to her contacts.

She debated pressing dial on his name, she still had so many things she wanted to say. She knew they couldn’t make a go of things, it was sad it had to be this way, but she understood the reasons why.

Victoria set her phone on the side. She had to move on, Ethan was her past, she now had to look to her future.

Whatever that may look like.

We all know what the future looks like 😉

Tag list: @ohchoices @swiftiexstarwarssimp @queencarb @genevievemd @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @gryffindordaughterofathena @sophxwithers @romewritingshop @coffeeheartaddict2 @mm2305 @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @nishas-paradise @replayfootsteps @mainstreetreader @lsvdw-blog @kiara-36 @quixoticdreamer16 @headoverheelsforramsey @shanzay44 @itsjustamesshonestly @josiesopenheart @mysticalgalaxysstuff @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @kachrisberry @rookiemartin @jamespotterthefirst @a-crepusculo @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @wanderingamongthewildflowers @rosebudde @lucy-268 @liaromancewriter @bex-la-get @writer-ish @toadfrog26 @tessa-liam @peonierose @cariantha @kyra75

[alj4890]

Comfort

(Ethan Ramsey x F!MC) in a Choices Open Heart One Shot

As requested by

@hopelessromantic1352 with the prompt "You can't keep doing this."

A/N Here you go my sweet friend. Thank you for sending these requests to me to help with inspiration. I know you specifically wanted this one with both Ethan and Chris, so I'm going back to book 1 for you so that Tobias won't steal her away 😉

I was also inspired by the Dr. Who gifs below for this one. For those who don't know, Karen Gillian is my FC for Chris Valentine. Don't worry, I'm not making Matt Smith my FC for Ethan 😂 This interaction though reminded me of something Ethan and Chris would have done and it fit my idea for the above prompt.

Masterlist

It was too much. All of it was more than Chris could take. Tears blurred her vision as she finally had a chance to react to the mayhem she'd just finished being a part of.

Ripping off the surgical scrubs covered in Rafael's blood, she dashed blindly down the corridor. Her breaths hitched as sobs threatened to spill out. All she could think of was running away from the absolute hell of the subway accident. She needed to get as far as she could before losing her strained hold on her emotions.

Ignoring the alarm of the exhausted nurses and doctors, she ran past them without saying a word.

She stumbled out of one of the side doors of the hospital and barreled into a familiar solid form.

Ethan grunted on impact. He grasped her arms once he recognized her.

"Chris?" He leaned down closer to see her more clearly in the darkness. "What happened?"

Tears began to spill down her cheeks. Of all the people in the world she could possibly bump into at this moment, it would be him.

"I have to go." She choked out, wrenching herself from his grasp.

He grabbed her once more to stop her escape.

"Are you all right?" He demanded in a harsh voice while giving her a slight shake.

There were few things in this world he could not tolerate and seeing Chris in this emotional state topped that list.

"No!" She cried out, her voice echoing across the parking lot.

In a jumble or words and sobs, she managed to tell him about the rush of patients they had in the emergency room.

Once her ability to speak became impossible, he gripped her hand and took her back into the hospital.

"No. I don't want to go back inside!" she struggled against his hold.

She stilled as he led her up the emergency stairwell towards the roof.

He chose a spot overlooking Boston and sat down.

Ethan glanced up and saw she was immobile once again with tears falling in steady streams down her cheeks. Taking her hand, he tugged her down.

She collapsed beside him and buried her head against her knees, her body wracked with silent cries.

He'd seen her like this before. When Delores died, she'd been unable to stop her tears. He'd found her alone in the locker room, silently crying at the unfairness of it all.

Setting his hand on her shoulder, he gently pulled her closer to his side.

"You can't keep doing this, Chris." He told her. "If you keep taking death to heart like this, then being a doctor will destroy you."

She wiped her eyes, and settled her chin on her knees.

"I know that." She said in a voice cracking with emotion. "But it was so much, Ethan. Everywhere I turned there was someone in the midst of dying or who was screaming in pain. I wanted to fix it all but I couldn't."

"Did you help them?" He asked.

"If you can call it that." She said bitterly. "I assessed, tagged, and moved on like Zaid told me to."

He squeezed her in a side hug. "I never doubted for a moment that you did the right thing."

His comforting touch and praise tore at her heart.

"Don't." She pleaded. "Don't be nice to me right now."

Chris could feel the tears rising once more. After all they felt for one another, his quitting, and now showing up when she needed him most; she thought she would truly break if he was kind to her.

She rested her head on his shoulder, nuzzling close to him once his arm dropped. "Please sit here with me, but don't be nice."

Ethan leaned his head against hers and snorted. "Everyone complains when I'm not nice and yet here you are demanding the opposite."

Chris bit back a tearful smile. "I think this is one request of mine you're willing to give in."

"I think we both know I always give in to what you want."

"If that were true, you wouldn't have left Edenbrook." She mumbled. "And you wouldn't have left me."

He cursed. "Chris, you know why I left Edenbrook. And as for you..."

He trailed off.

She looked up at him.

"As for me?"

He met her red rimmed eyes and felt his will falter. He'd once had such plans to protect and guide her career forward. He was going to not only show her how to be a doctor but watch as she became a great one. He'd ended up doing nothing but letting her down in the end. He'd failed to keep his unexpected feelings for her in check and he'd failed her as a mentor.

Seeing the quiet anguish he was under, she nestled her head back on his shoulder, leaving the issue alone for once.

He swallowed the words that were demanding to come out. He wanted to tell her he'd never leave her. He would always want her.

He loved her.

I'm not worthy to tell her anything like that, he thought to himself. Not now, possibly not ever.

"What are you doing here?" She asked after a long stretch of silence.

"Marlene left me a message saying that the hospital needed all the help they could get." He answered, grateful she wasn't pushing him into revealing more of what he wasn't ready for.

"What took you so long?" She playfully nudged him with her elbow.

A hint of smile appeared on her face when she heard his exasperated groan.

"I was out of town, Rookie." He grumbled.

"Having a good time?" She asked.

"I wouldn't say that." He muttered. "I went to see my dad and then I went on to--"

He bit his tongue. He couldn't get her hopes up that his visits to Mrs. Martinez's family would come to any good.

"To where?" She asked.

"Nowhere in particular." He lied. "I needed to drive and clear my head."

"I think I need a vacation like that." She mumbled. "I wish I could forget and leave everything behind for a while."

He wrapped his arm around her once more. "It's a pipe dream. There's no way you can fully leave everything behind, no matter how badly you want to."

"How badly did you want to?"

"More than anything."

She slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him.

He held her, taking every bit of comfort she was willing to give him. It's ironic, he thought. He'd brought her up here to comfort her. He had no intentions of letting her know his own struggles.

Ethan should have known that out of everyone he knew, Chris would know what he was feeling. Not only that, she would also give him exactly what he needed from her in this moment.

Neither was sure how long they sat there, holding one another. The soothing hum of the city below them and the stars above were all they needed as they sat together in companionable silence.

When the first blush of dawn began to light the sky, Ethan whispered that he'd take her home.

He got up first and offered his hand to Chris.

She lifted her tear stained face up to smile softly at him.

Taking his hand, she stood up and was pulled into his embrace. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead when she slipped her arms around him again.

"You're going to be okay." He said, lips brushing hers with each word.

She nodded, her eyes meeting his after one last sweet kiss.

"We both will." She vowed.

Together, hand in hand, they went off to face another day.

[the-pale-goddess]

Vices & Virtues - Ethan Ramsey x MC

Dr. Ramsey's weaknesses don’t disturb his everyday life often, but when they do, a certain intern happens to always be involved.

Book: Open Heart, Intern Year (between Chapters 5 & 6)

Warnings: language, my rusty writing, a truckload of pining

Rating/Category: Teen+ / fluffy angst

Author’s note: [insert the ‘surprise, bitch’ & 'it's been 84 years' reaction GIFs]

I’m eternally grateful for the very few angels still waiting for new E&T content—this one’s for you 🫶🏻 Hope you’ll find a moment to read my word vomit and enjoy the mess (aka my writing). I appreciate every comment and like more than words can convey!

Edenbrook is indigestible on Mondays. Though Ethan Ramsey doesn’t believe in whatever ‘curse’ humankind attributed to an absolutely random day, he cannot deny the madness that usually ensues upon the beginning of each week. An inexplicable air of post-weekend malaise does tend to envelop the globe, and Boston is no lucky exception.

“Mondays suck!”

Striding across the hustly-bustly pediatric ward, Doctor Ramsey overhears an agitated boy explicitly expressing his annoyance.

Ethan’s Monday has been a doozy of a day as well, but he’d rather keep his troubles six feet under, preferably in concrete. Nevertheless, a drop of sympathy implores him to stop near the patient’s room and watch the scene unfold at a safe distance.

The child blows a raspberry at the nurse preparing him for a corridor-long wheelchair ride, clearly upset about the surgery he’s being taken to.

A heavy sigh followed by the unmistakable giggle of a certain copper-haired radiologist interrupts Ethan’s first break during today’s demanding shift.

“It’s not Monday, kid. It’s just your life.” Doctor Herbert whispers into Ethan’s ear, a large cup of raspberry tea in her hand. “But at least it’s going to be all rainbows and candy again in three weeks.”

Meanwhile, the situation has escalated quickly: a river of tears streams down the young Monday-hater's cheeks now, his concerned mother shooting pleading looks between her shuddering offspring and the strict nurse trying to efficiently finish the task so she could move on with her hectic schedule.

A pang of dejection pierces Ethan all of a sudden when a long-forgotten fragment of the past he buried flashes through his mind. Before its splinters reopen old wounds, he swiftly pushes the unwanted memory back to the unexplored depths of his psyche.

“I don’t think he’s heard you.”

“Gee, Doctor Ramsey, share some of that cheerful attitude with the rest of us!” Liz nudges his side, almost spilling her hot beverage on his foot. She mouths an apology, but his unimpressed gaze falls elsewhere.

“You wouldn’t even know what to do with it.”

“Thank God your interns still haven’t caught that grumpiness you’re suffering from.”

“No need to worry, it’s not contagious.” He gives a dismissive wave of his hand, partially to announce his departure, then continues the journey to his primary destination: the harmonious sanctuary of his private office.

As soon as the elevator door closes behind Ethan, the confined space becomes his temporary resort. He takes a deep breath, rubbing his sunken, aweary eyes to relieve the tension—an aching remnant of the sleepless night. The exhaustion begins to mess with his senses, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary; permanent fatigue has been his steadfast companion for more than a decade of his career as a doctor.

There’s a crack in that orderly, borderline clinical life of his, as big as a closed fist, and he’s slowly beginning to realize its detrimental consequences.

But none of that matters now.

What matters is that his desperate efforts to bend Naveen’s stubbornness weren’t in vain; there’s still hope—a notion Ethan isn’t exactly on board with, but he puts his trust in science, and beyond any doubt science will point him in the right direction. As long as there’s time, he’ll do whatever it takes to save his mentor, his friend. He’s confident he can do it, he’s capable of diagnosing and curing whichever mysterious illness keeps Naveen captive.

He’s the only one who can do it.

A double shot of deep roasted espresso shall help this cause. Or, at the very least, make his Monday slightly more endurable.

Loud metallic thud followed by a streak of bright fluorescent lighting annunciates the arrival. Empty, windowless corridor welcomes his nostrils with the odious mixture of staleness and antiseptic, typical of the office wing on the sixth floor. He operates on autopilot, mindlessly trudging ahead, marginally consoled by the aura of eerie quietude. Blissfully oblivious to what the so-called Manic Monday has prepared for him next.

All his rational thought and peerless logic evaporate into thin air the second his drowsy gaze zooms in on the old waiting room under renovation currently withheld by the recent budget cuts. Within its hoary walls, a familiar sylphlike figure catches his eye, unwittingly staking her claim to his undivided attention.

Ethan’s dire need of coffee has vanished as well; he’s wide awake now.

Smiling to herself, a sense of pride evident in the alluring dimples carved into her cheeks, Doctor Addams arranges a stack of papers atop a massive couch protected by thin plastic sheet.

Ethan acknowledges that he must ignore the tempest raging inside his chest, but he’s unable to focus on anything else other than the energy she exudes, luring him in like a siren’s song.

This isn’t the first time the infamous Doctor Terminator is utterly powerless in the face of her—the most intriguing mystery he’s tempted to unravel for some godforsaken, unfathomable reason.

Everything he knows about Tiffany Addams has been collateral damage from their close proximity and the isolating nature of their work. Against better judgment, Ethan has stored every single crumb of information thrown at him, like it’s a treasure guarded in the vault of his mind, acquiring new pieces and adding them to this clandestine collection.

With certainty, there’s a new element behind that glass wall, ready to be studied in secret.

As though pulled by a magnet, his feet carry him towards the room while Ethan shuffles through a myriad of excuses plausible enough to start a conversation. A good excuse, however, requires an elaborate background story, supported by a carefully planned follow-up—both of which clearly out of his reach at the moment.

Fully aware of the possible disaster awaiting inside, Ethan steps into the room quietly, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed over his chest. A sophisticated scent of sultry vanilla wrapped with notes of luminous lavender pervades the space, handily smothering the musty odor of the old hospital furniture stored here for at least a year.

Heedless of his presence, Tiffany remains locked in her own bubble. She’s seated on the couch, browsing through a large leather bag with a lot of noise.

Long onyx locks neatly tamed in a sleek bun reveal the exquisitely sculpted contour of her features, its sharp edges so far removed from the overpowering warmth hiding in her sparkling emeralds and tenacious kindness dripping from the corners of her full mouth.

That stark contrast surely must be a part of her allure, he reckons. Not that there’s any evidence at his disposal—he’s her boss, for fuck’s sake. But the set of cardinal rules applying to the situation doesn’t stop him from looking, nor does it dilute the poison seeping from that singular contaminated thought…

Loud, treacherous voice snarls inside his mind like a beast at the gates of his sanity.

This isn’t staring, this is a comprehensive risk assessment.

Regardless of the pretext, watching her feels almost perverse, but he’s too transfixed to listen to his voice of reason hopelessly trying to redirect him to the path of impeccable propriety.

He can’t look away. Can’t move either. She'll notice him…Eventually.

Is that all he’s become? A disappointment, a fraud. One of the best diagnosticians of the generation, the esteemed Dr. Ethan Ramsey is consistently failing to do his job. His own mind appalls him—once the most treasured asset, his pride and joy, now compromised, useless, struggling to cut through the veil of his inappropriate longing.

Perhaps instead of triggering a spiral of destruction, he should address a more pressing matter: why is there a splotch of purple paint on her cheek?

Better late than never, his focus switches from Tiffany to the negligible surroundings. On her left, spread across the polythene-covered couch, lie a couple of ridiculously abstract drawings, colorful and confusing, each of them made with the skill and precision equal to a six-year-old if he has to guess.

Suddenly, it all clicks.

Along with his tongue.

The short clack doesn’t make her flinch, though she straightens immediately, a glimmer of surprise shining in her riveting eyes when she looks up at the intruder and deems him worthy of a smile. Her lush, rosy lips curl up generously, greeting him with a beam so dazzling his body heats up like bare skin kissed by the blazing midday sun in the middle of summer.

The older doctor doesn’t return the cordial gesture—he has a reputation to uphold and his bruised dignity to save. He quickly takes refuge in the shadow of his perfect decorum, dexterously covering the unjustifiable act of treason committed by his very own carnality.

Tiffany, however, is undeterred in her mission to melt his callous indifference with the disarming sincerity of her vivacious spirit.

“Before you drop your sarcastic grenades on me: no, I have not found my true calling elsewhere. I have not been slacking up either. These aren’t even mine, so insulting someone else’s artistic skills would be totally inappropriate.” Her hand waves over the drawings.

“I wouldn’t dare to insult a respected artist and credit you with their art.” He retorts flatly, then spills the aforementioned sarcasm like the Lord intended. “Early Pollock must cost a fortune or two. How come such rare artworks ended up in your possession?”

His comment inspires a peal of infectious laughter; the powerful melody of Tiffany’s unadulterated amusement conquers the room, all but obliterating the chronic sternness of Ethan’s face.

He cannot help but bask in the glory of this unexpected outcome: he’s the reason behind the glorious, velvety sound; she’s laughing because of him.

“You made a pretty solid assumption, Doctor Ramsey, but I have to disappoint you: early Pollock had an affair with surrealism and his style was way more compositional than this.” She points at the glittery mess splashed in the center of one of the pieces, not so subtly suppressing another wave of laughter.

Miss Addams and her irreplaceable wit painfully remind him of the golden rule he often pretends doesn’t concern his giant ego: do not speak on the topics your knowledge of is insufficient.

Lustrous vivid-green eyes fixed on him and the urgency he’s facing at the moment leave him no choice but to quickly shake off the embarrassment and adapt his reaction accordingly.

Reluctantly, Ethan clings to brutal honesty. “I’m not an art connoisseur, so I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Oh, trust me, you would.”

A smudge of amethyst retrieves the diagnostician’s attention for one split second, demanding a seamless change of topic.

“I presume you spent your lunch break on the pediatric ward again, trying to start a new art movement.”

Doctor Addams gasps theatrically and presses her slender fingers to her mouth, lowering her head slightly. “What gave me away?”

Ethan considers revealing the truth through another shot of bluntly delivered sarcasm (something he would have done in any other case), but his body betrays him, subconsciously drawing near Tiffany.

“Apart from the excited chatter on the second floor? Nothing.” He replies, straining to keep his impeccable composure just as she bites into her lower lip tantalizingly in what appears to be keen anticipation.

A few risky steps later she’s at his arm’s length, and he decides to measure that dangerously short distance; akin to an audience member of some ludicrous soap opera, the diagnostician observes his hand move towards the intern’s face in slow motion, as if that bloody limb wasn’t his and the falsely innocent intention swarming inside his incisive, virtuous mind filled him with repulsion.

Except he wants this. He needs to feel her.

Even though the mere ghost of an idea may bring his demise, he cannot break free, imprisoned by the torturous vision of her vanilla-scented skin gliding smoothly against his.

Much to his bewilderment, her breath quickens just as much as his; the evergreen forest in her eyes bursts into flames when their gazes meet, burning his hesitation down.

She wants this too.

Nothing could convince him to refrain from acting on this forbidden desire now, not a single reasonable thought seems to be charged with a cogent argument.

So he lets his thumb brush down her right cheek, down the lick of wet paint smeared across her warm skin, taking most of the dark purple off the silken canvas along the way.

The sky didn’t tear in half, there was no divine retribution exacted upon a sinner like him, no sign of punishment fit for his appalling misdeed.

“Nothing. At. All.”

Nothing but the silky smoothness of her face, rapid rise and fall of her shapely chest, and fiery heat searing through his veins…

Inevitably, the unbearable tension crackling between them dissipates in a flash when Tiffany snorts at the sight of his acrylic-stained thumb, a soundless ‘fuck’ escapes her mouth as she sprints to find a prompt solution for the paintmergency, stripping him of time to ponder on what the living hell just happened.

He takes advantage of the moment, immediately scolding himself, forcing his thoughts to flee from the crime scene concocted by his newly depraved brain.

“Must be your enviable instinct of an outstanding diagnostician then.” Cheeky as ever, she casts a playful eye over Ethan while rummaging through the drawers, summoning him to focus on her.

Within a long minute, she scuttles back to him, stretched arm offering one of the two pieces of paper towel sprayed with hand sanitizer. They use it to rub the paint off their skin. As soon as they’re done, Ethan quips back. Sort of.

“The balance between mockery and flattery is a bit too delicate to be used in a professional environment, don’t you agree, Addams?”

Unintimidated by the tricky question, Tiffany lifts her shoulder in a half shrug. “It all depends on the intelligence of the person you’re speaking with. You’re ultrawealthy in that department, so I assumed you wouldn’t mind some harmless friendly banter.”

“We’re not friends.” The speed with which he retaliates might have just sealed his fate. Deep down, he doesn’t quite believe those words himself, but there are rules to be followed unconditionally, rules that cannot be broken under any circumstances.

Dark, noble brows accentuating the breadth of her radiance crease together in sheer bewilderment. He can almost hear the scoff she’s choking back when she sees right through the cone-shaped hole in the thick wall separating them.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“We’re getting there.” She nods vigorously, openly mocking his well-meaning mendacity with lips pursed into a thin line and narrowed eyes surveying him diligently.

„An attending befriending his intern? I can’t see that happening.”

A winning grin lights Tiffany’s features up. „It’s already happening, whether you like it or not.”

The more she pushes forward, infuriatingly so, the more he resists, fortifying his helpless defense.

„Would you be kind enough to explain why on Earth would I let it happen?”

“It’s beyond your control.” She shakes her head. „There’s nothing you can do now.”

He frowns at her, takes her fierce expression in, feigning utter disinterest in the mesmerizing spatter of freckles adorning her glowy skin.

Is the intensity of his glare too revealing? Can there be a flash of ardent curiosity swimming in his eyes and acting up against him?

„You’re awfully confident about all the wrong things, Rookie.”

She mimics the military salute, right hand raised sharply, touching her forehead, fingers and thumb extended and joined, palm facing down. „The colossal pain in your ass reporting for duty, sir.”

This display of her goofiness, derived from the smidgeon of irreverence he’s found himself covertly fond of, successfully penetrates his ruptured facade.

At last, Doctor Terminator’s perpetually grim face blooms with an ear-to-ear smile, so wide and genuine that Tiffany blinks once, twice, most probably questioning whether the exceptionally unusual scene in front of her is real.

The way she gapes at his mouth almost drills a hole in him—she’s that awestruck, like a pious believer who stumbled upon irrefutable evidence confirming the foundation of her faith.

“You should smile more. You…” Her plush lips part when she trails off, then sucks in a breath, as if to stop the profanation of their professional relationship jumping on the tip of her tongue from slipping out recklessly.

She wants this too.

“It suits you.”

Ethan’s cheeks erupt with disgraceful heat, resembling an awkward teenager attracting his crush’s attention for the very first time—the feeling almost as mortifying and inexcusable as the unprecedented lack of any snarky response.

As if the worst was yet to come, Tiffany keeps on staring at him with such exhilarating wonder and sureness he doesn’t quite know how to proceed with such abundance of emotion meddling with his stoic approach.

She wants this too.

For a fleeting moment, the abyss of his solitude shrinks significantly, purple paint filling the crack on the illusory contentment with the life he’s chosen, just as her piercing gaze invites him further into the impossible fantasy.

Then, a jolt of sobering guilt runs along his spine in a rude awakening, at the same time when Tiffany realizes the gravity of her daring statement and its perilous implications.

“I, erm…”

“Uhm, my…”

Ethan smashes the uncharacteristic uneasiness descending on them, a benign half-smile and barely perceptible nod encourage her to continue. “Go on.”

Her gaze flickers towards the hall, a tinge of crimson reddening freckled porcelain. “My break is almost over. I should head back to the ER.”

Hell must have frozen over: his fearless protégée, strong-willed and sharp-tongued at all times, befuddles him with this uncommonly demure armor plate she has put on. The most challenging obstacles and cases fail to break her down, stress and pressure never threaten her admirable strength, and yet there she is—bleeding from her own sword.

This supremely fascinating token of hidden vulnerability sheds new light on the beguiling collection of contradictions making her whole.

He examines the younger doctor pacing around the room as she gathers her belongings up, stuffing her capacious bag with them. Half-way, she spins to address him directly and points at her cheek.

“Am I…Still…?”

“No, you’re alright. The paint is gone.”

“Splendid.”

As she goes forward, assembling her patients’ drawings into a neat pile, and—rather intentionally—ignoring Ethan, he readjusts his tie and dives headfirst into the pool of her discomfort.

“Addams?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to dedicate such a vast portion of your free time to helping others.”

She freezes, visibly offended, but still intent on avoiding his gaze. “I know. I want to.”

“What I meant...Is that you need to add yourself to the equation, Tiffany.”

“I’m doing just fine, thank you.” She scoffs, the barely noticeable defensive undertone reverberating in her firm answer not entirely convincing for the diagnostics virtuoso.

His evaluation is disrupted by the abominably loud beeping of Tiffany’s pager. Their eyes finally clash for a brief shootout with no winner before she shuts the damn thing up.

“Well then. See you later, Doctor Ramsey.” She blurts out hastily without giving him a second glance and turns round to rush out of the room, but stops in her tracks near the door.

Something sparks inside that brilliant mind of hers, reigniting her boldness. Dense curtain of long lashes flutters at him over her shoulder, inky-black and luxurious akin to the finest lace, the signature magnetic smile dancing on her lips again—this time infused with genuine concern. She inspects his countenance for a still moment, inch by inch, crease by crease, until her head falls to the side like she has just uncovered his biggest secret.

“Consider locking the door in your office and getting some rest.”

“Giving me advice isn’t included in your job description.” He sneers, the unnecessarily harsh huff of his disapproval concealing the alien sentiment spilling inside his chest.

Somehow it’s still not enough to antagonize her.

Her eyes bore into his audaciously; the gentleness gleaming from elusive emerald green, reminiscent of safety, offers shelter he despairingly seeks, but cannot take. “But it’s nice to have someone watching out for you, isn’t it?”

Somehow they might have more in common than one would think.

Careful not to expose the motley collection of feelings stirring his blood, Ethan draws in a long breath and slips his hands into the pockets of pristine white coat, perfecting his posture, with tense body standing even taller, as though to appear completely unaffected by her undeniable appeal, more unrelenting.

He’s been looked at countless times, yes, but this must be the first instance where he feels truly seen.

It is indeed nice.

The attending doesn’t say a word, for he would have to agree with the intern. She smirks triumphantly, accepting the tacit disbelief etched on his face as conclusive proof of her diagnosis.

Instead of claiming victory through verbal manifestation of her sass, Doctor Addams attacks him using a different weapon: a provocative wink. “Just think about it.”

With a graceful twirl indicating goodbye, his Rookie struts out, leaving a dizzying mist of her divine scent behind.

Wasting no time, Ethan scoots to the exact place where she stood prior to this moment, soaking up the delicious cloud of fragrance, unable to resist sniffing the air like some sort of disgustingly pathetic creep.

Thankfully, there are no witnesses to this particularly revolting descent into madness.

No witnesses to the beginning of his fall.

Mind over heart has never sounded more delusional than now, that his hard-won empire of spotless reason stands on the verge of crumbling. But he’s not giving up—he can’t give up. There’s too much at stake.

Beyond dispute, Ethan Ramsey is not an easy man to defeat. The King of Quiet Desperation wears his broken crown with arrogance, each burnished gem representing his sins, though the ultimate one hasn’t brought him down yet.

Having put the mask of nonchalance back on, Doctor Ramsey turns off the lights and stomps into the empty corridor—his hand still carrying the heavenly softness of Tiffany’s skin like a fingerprint, like a sin, shaky fingers curling at the very thought of the contact—then begins a seemingly casual stroll to his office.

He doesn’t have many vices—she is all of them.

_____

A/N2: Hope you enjoyed this bad boy ❤️ Sorry (not sorry) if it's too long and repetitive...I literally can't shut up when it comes to these two fsksjdkfjs Plus it felt really good to find my writing mojo after such a long time!

PS. If there are any typos and/or mistakes...No, there aren't lol I'm fighting COVID at the moment, so my brain's a little foggy. I had this fic sitting in my drafts and decided to just go with the flow while I'm feverish and can't see any faults sjfskfkjf I'll get back to everyone waiting for a reply when I'm more coherent. Stay safe, lovelies!

[gambit-blogs]

Hospital pics of Ethan and MC

[jamespotterthefirst]

No pressure at all, amiga... but if inspired for a ficlet, an edit, anything....

⋆ going to questionable lengths to decorate their house/apartment (for Halloween)

From this list

Omg! Thank you so much for the inspiration, Amiga. It felt SO GOOD to write something short and sweet. I almost cried. Love you!

Halloween Lights

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey and F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende-Ramsey) Word count: 600 Warning: Adult themes and conversations

“This is stupid,” Ethan proclaims from under her for the tenth time that evening. 

“Quiet, you,” she returns without missing a beat. 

“Hrm.”

His overemphasized displeasure would have been amusing to Lilac under any other circumstances. At that precise moment, however, her attention is entirely invested on not plummeting to her death. 

Meanwhile, Ethan Ramsey, renowned doctor and author, currently stands in the driveway of their new home, his wife perched on his shoulders as she tries to hang up a string of purple and orange lights. He remembers the colors precisely because they spent over an hour searching for the correct ones online. Ready to give up, Ethan had proclaimed that the color didn't matter, which earned him a glare and a lecture from Lilac. 

“Who decorates for Halloween anyway?” he asks now from under his wife. 

“Us,” she informs him brightly. 

“Why? Isn't Christmas enough?” 

“Nope,” she says absently, finally finding success with mounting that section of string lights. “And you better get used to it, babe. Marrying me means decorating for every holiday. Now, move over to the left so I can keep going.”

A long dramatic sigh leaves him but he obliges. Lilac laughs, careful not to topple over with the movement. 

“This would have been insurmountably easier with a ladder,” he informs her. 

“We don't own one yet. It's part of the whole ‘being new home owners’ ordeal,” she reminds him. “There's an obligatory trip to the hardware store we still have to make. And then two more when we realize we forgot to get some things. Besides, I don't need a ladder when I have a six foot five husband I can climb.”

His grip on her thighs tightens. 

“That last part I don't mind.”

Large hands move further up her legs. 

“In fact, I enjoy it thoroughly when you do.”

“Stop distracting me with your filthy mind, Ramsey.”

A bitter breeze sweeps past them, dragging its icy nails over Lilac's skin. Her raised arms pull the hem of the knit fabric, exposing her midriff. She sways unceremoniously, clenching her thighs tighter around her husband's neck to retain her balance. 

It's futile, however, because her body jerks to the side, sending her heart into a nosedive. 

“Shit!” 

Strong, steady arms catch her, gently bringing her back to the ground. Her soft body slides down the hard planes of his. When she finds her bearings again and her pulse returns to normal, she laughs. 

“I'm horrible at this decoration thing,” she admits. 

“Yes, you are.”

Lilac feigns offense, but Ethan is quick to kiss her forehead. Another icy blast of wind rushes past them, making her shiver. His hands instinctively squeeze her tighter. 

“I'll put all the decorations up this weekend if we can go inside,” he offers. 

“Really?” 

“You won't give up this insane endeavor otherwise,” he counters, but Lilac can see his sarcasm doesn't match the softness in his smile. “I'll get Lahela to help me. It'll be torture, but I'll do it if it means you won't fall and break your neck.”

There is no immediate witty response. Instead, his wife watches him with a look she has given him many times before, one that makes Ethan feel absolutely weightless. Something about this small embrace in the middle of their new driveway cements the realization that they're about to spend the rest of their lives together in their new home.

Lilac must feel it too because she leans up to kiss him. Their lips move innocently at first, but then they plead for more with every languid stroke. She breaks away, cheeks flushed and eyes dark. Her fingers play with the tassels of his scarf. 

“Even though we're done decorating, I can still climb you, Ramsey.”

The words have the desired effect on his body. Years of practice, however, help him think of a witty response instead of immediately pouncing on her like a caveman. 

“Just like before, Rookie,” he tells her conversationally before leaning in and whispering— “Except I want you facing the other way.”

Note: Thank you so much for reading!

[the-prophecy]

I still go read open heart fanfics some days ok

[jerzwriter]

A Valentine's Day Experiment

Thank you to @weetlebeetle, the creator of this adorable commission of Ethan and Kaycee. In my HC, Kaycee is NOT much of a cook, but when she decides to cook a special dinner for Ethan on Valentine's Day, how do things turn out?

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan) Rating: Teen Words: 1,121 A/N: Participating in @choicesficwriterscreations Valentine's Day Event and @februarychoiceschallenge2025 - Prompt: Lust.

Ethan Ramsey had never been a fan of Valentine's Day, and he found it imperative that everyone knew it.

"It's capitalist nonsense!" He declared, pouring over the morning paper. "A scheme to convince feeble-minded fools that they're unloved if their partner doesn't send them grotesquely overpriced roses on February 14th, no other day, just that day will do. And, preferably, at work so that everyone can see."

Kaycee was seated at his side, calmly sipping her tea. She was used to this annual proclamation; she honestly found it amusing by now, and she knew it by heart. She playfully mouthed the words as he continued, believing she'd go undetected.

"If I bring sunflowers home on September 18th, does that mean I love you less? No, it doesn't!" He lowered his glasses on the bridge of his nose the moment he caught his beloved mocking him, but his incredulous glare left her giggling with delight.

"Babe, can I just record this? Please. Not only could we hit replay every year, but I'm sure I could turn this into a viral TikTok!"

That earned his further consternation. "Another ridiculous tradition! The social media posts declaring undying love to the 'perfect' partner we all heard them call a son-of-a-bitch at the coffee station not twenty minutes before."

"Did you get it all out of your system now, love?" she teased so adorably that even the crabby doctor found himself grinning. "I know your position by now, and frankly, it's a little hypocritical if you ask me."

That got his attention. "Hypocritical! How?"

"Because you've gone out of your way to make every one of our Valentine's Days special."

"Ah!" he replied, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. "That's because you don't expect the nonsense or overpriced flowers. You simply enjoy spending the day together."

"Damn right!" She insisted. "I'd be pissed if you dropped $100 on a dozen roses when you know what I really want costs a whole lot less."

Ethan chuckled, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips as his hand landed on her thigh beneath the table. "Costs less? It's free, and I try to provide that to you on a daily basis."

"I wasn't talking about... that," she laughed. "I meant my traditional Valentine's Day cupcakes!"  

He had to smile. This was just one reason he loved her so much. She didn't need fancy things – fancy things he'd honestly be happy to provide for her. But she preferred the simple things - cupcakes, snuggles, perhaps a rom-com – and then those "free" activities they both adored.

"How could I ever forget?" He said, placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

"Well, I've got the day off, so I'm preparing a Valentine's surprise for you tonight," she beamed. "Just make sure you're home from work at a decent hour."

With a promise like that, he made sure he complied. Leaving Edenbrook Hospital the moment his shift ended, he stepped into his condo just after the clock struck six. He was intrigued as he entered the door. A distinct aroma greeted him; it wasn't bad... but something was off. Garlic, rosemary, and... was that cinnamon? His brow, then he saw her.

Kaycee stood in the kitchen, her golden hair cascading over her apron, stopping just above the words Kiss the Cook spelled out in garish, bright pink letters.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" she squealed, rushing over to kiss him. "I made dinner!"

Ethan glanced at the food on the stove, not quite sure what it was. The presentation wasn't bad. It even looked edible. But he was a man of science, and he knew Kaycee's track record in the kitchen. It was unlikely today would be any different from her disasters – uhm – attempts in the past.

"You… cooked?" he asked cautiously, shrugging off his coat.

"Don't sound so surprised!" She said, placing her hands on her hips. "I wanted to do something special for you."

He opened his mouth, then promptly shut it. If the love of his life had spent the day cooking for him, well, then he was going to suffer through whatever culinary chaos awaited him.

Kaycee was already pinching a bite-sized morsel from her creation, all but bouncing as she brought it to his lips. "Here!" She smiled. "Taste this!"

He did his best to hide his trepidation, hesitating only a second before accepting his fate. But, the second the morsel hit his tongue, his highly trained palate was assaulted by a combination of flavors that should never exist together.

He chewed slowly. Trying to think of something that would make this redeemable, but he was coming up blank.

His expression betrayed him because Kaycee's face twisted. "Ethan?"

He swallowed. Painfully. "Hmm?"

"All right," she said, crossing her arms. "Be honest with me."

He sighed, pulling her into his arms. "Kaycee, you are the most remarkable woman I've ever met. Brilliant, compassionate, you brighten every room you walk into..."

"But?" she winced.

"But if you were also an incredible chef, it would simply be unfair. No one can be perfect, dear."

"You hate it," she smirked.

"I..." He paused. "Hate is a strong word."

"Mm-hmm." She turned around and reached into the fridge, producing a pizza box from O'Cheese, their favorite pizza place. "Luckily, I had a backup plan. I can have this heated up in ten minutes."

Ethan exhaled, relieved she wasn't upset with him. "You knew it was going to be a disaster, didn't you?"

She shrugged innocently. "I had my suspicions. But hey, I tried!"

He pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You did. And I appreciate the effort. Even if my taste buds will take a week to recover."

"Rude!" she said, smacking his chest.

Ethan smiled, brushing his lips against hers once more. "Besides… I hear you have other skills."

"Oh? Who told you that?"

"A very credible source," he declared, scooping her up in his arms.  

"Well, I'm not demonstrating any of those skills unless..." her eyes met his playfully.

"Don't worry," he laughed. "I stopped by Bova's on the way home. Your cupcakes are on the table in the foyer."

"Ah! I love you!" she beamed. "So, what do you want first, pizza and cupcakes... or me?"

Ethan chuckled as he nipped playfully at her bottom lip. "As tempting as you are, I'm going to need my energy for what I have in mind. So let's have dinner first."

Kaycee giggled, pressing a hand to his chest. "Oh? Planning something special, Dr. Ramsey?"

He smirked. "Let's just say… you're going to need your energy, too. Happy Valentine's Day, Kaycee," he murmured against her lips.

She smiled as she kissed him once more. "Happy Valentine's Day, Ethan."

@openheartfanfics @openheartfanart

[liaromancewriter]

Inconvenient Truths

Premise: When Ethan’s mother is brought to the hospital after a drug overdose, it raises emotions he’d rather stay forgotten.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angst Words: 860

A/N: Set during 2.13. Submission for @choicesjunechallenge2024 prompt: Growing Sideways by Noah Kahan.

Tears flowed down his cheeks, but the darkness of the on-call room hid them from the shadows. Ethan Ramsey didn’t even know why he was crying or for whom.

It’s not like he didn’t know Louise was an addict. He’d learned that secret a long time ago and accepted it.

It also wasn’t like he needed a mother anymore. He’d done quite well for himself without one for twenty-five years.

So, why had seeing her wheeled into the emergency department on a gurney shaken him to the core?

For a second, he hadn’t recognized the deathly pale face beneath the oxygen mask. It wasn’t until Cassie cried out that it was his mother that he connected the dots.

He remembered being rooted to the spot, unable to get his legs to move or for his brain to process the scene. But then his medical training kicked into gear, and Louise was just another addict who had overdosed on opioids.

He leaped into action, scanning the patient with a clinical eye. Blue lips and fingertips. Shallow breathing. Pupils small and unresponsive….

And on it went. It was just another day in the hospital, with Dr. Ramsey working alongside his colleague Dr. Valentine to diagnose and treat a patient.

But it wasn’t that simple. Cassie Valentine wasn’t just any doctor. She was the woman he was in love with. American royalty with a perfect family and class leaking from her pores.

She hadn’t grown up hearing taunts about her mother running off with another man or seeing her father trying to save face and provide for his only child while working long hours as a single parent.

Truth be told. Ethan had never wanted Cassie to see that or know about his past. He was what he had molded himself into. A cultured and sophisticated man who kept a box at the opera, vacationed in five-star resorts and could call in favors at the American Medical Association with one quick phone call.

He was not the motherless man weeping in a darkened room, hunched over a cot, hands balled into tight fists, wishing for the impossible.

Ethan heard the door click and hurriedly wiped away the tears with his hands.

Cassie peeped cautiously through the crack before she rushed into the room, letting the door close behind her, and sat beside him on the small cot.

Leave me alone, he wanted to scream. Leave before I drag you down with me.

But his lips didn’t move. His voice seemed stuck in his throat like a lump of coal.

She gently ran her hand over his back, telling him without words that she was there for him. He supposed it was meant to be comforting. But right now, it felt like a vine of brambles stinging him with their sharp leaves.

“Ethan, are you alright?” Cassie asked softly, concern in her green eyes.

Somehow, the sympathy coating each word was worse than being comforted. Ethan was not that boy anymore. He didn’t need nor want her pity. So, he fell back on anger, an emotion so powerful he could sense it coursing through his veins.

“She does not get to do this to me,” he hissed. “She does not get to make me feel bad for her.”

“It’s okay to be sad,” she said.

“I’m not sad,” he countered vehemently. “I’m… I’m… angry.”

“That’s okay, too,” Cassie said gently. Her voice was calm and steady, as if taming a wild beast. “Anything you’re feeling right now is okay.”

No, it wasn’t, Ethan wanted to shout. Nothing about this situation was okay!

“I’m…”

For a second, the grief he bore for all he’d lost bubbled to the surface, and he felt tears sting the corner of his eyes.

Sensing his distress, Cassie pressed her lips against his, pouring everything she felt for him in the tender kiss.

When her arms circled his back, holding him close, he gripped her shoulders tightly and let himself take and take. His lips turned greedy, and he ignored her shocked gasp as he sucked out all the love as if he was a vampire hungry for blood.

The kiss was almost his undoing. His heart ached to believe that it was okay. That his mother showing up like this wasn’t a reflection of who he was.

But it was a lie. Just like this kiss was a lie.

He tamped down the vulnerability she brought out in him and brutally ended the kiss, pulling himself away.

Huffing in frustration and anger, he stood up. “I have to get back to work.”

Undeterred, Cassie stepped in front of him. “That was your mom, Ethan. She nearly died.” She placed one hand on his chest and cupped his face with the other. “You can take a minute. It’s okay——”

“No, it isn’t,” he snapped angrily, unable to hide his disbelief at how she didn’t understand him after all this time. “There are patients that need me much more than she does.”

Ethan marched out of the room before he said something he couldn’t take back, slamming the door behind him.

It was not okay. That much he was sure of.

--------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso

@mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16

@justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[cariantha]

Relief

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: Teen Warning: Sexual innuendo Category: Hurt/Comfort; Fluff Word count: 1.4K Prompt: From @jerzwriter, “In your HC, does Sawyer have any long-term effects from the chemical attack or its treatment?”

By mid-afternoon, the cafeteria wasn’t nearly as busy, making it easy for Ethan to spot Sawyer sitting alone at a corner table. With a fork in one hand, she moved food around her plate while rubbing her forehead with the other. 

Ethan began walking in her direction but was abruptly stopped in his tracks. “Oh, Dr. Ramsey! I’m so glad I ran into you. Finally, I can introduce you to my husband,” the silver-haired woman proclaimed. 

“Hello, Mr. Reed. It’s nice to meet you,” Ethan politely responded, shaking hands with the gentleman at her side. 

While Mrs. Reed explained to her husband that his ornery mother had taken a shine to the doctor with “dreamy blue eyes like Paul Newman,” Ethan kept a side eye on Sawyer as she stood and emptied her tray into a nearby wastebin. 

Heads turned, and people whispered as she walked past a few occupied tables on her way to the exit. Since her return to work last week, the gossip mills had been spinning again, speculating about her physical and mental well-being and his and Sawyer’s more than just professional relationship. 

Not wanting to feed the rumors, Ethan caught Sawyer’s eye just before she walked past him. With a subtle lift of his chin and a question on his brow, he silently asked if she was okay. She signaled that she was with a quick nod and forced smile. But as Ethan’s eyes trailed her out of the room, and she lifted her hand to massage the back of her neck, he was unconvinced. 

<><><><><><><><><><>

“Morning,” Ethan offered as he entered the hospital gym early on Tuesday morning. 

“Ram-Man! I didn’t think you were coming this morning,” Bryce grunted between pull-ups. “Sawyer said she was staying at yours last night. I figured you’d be working out at home… doing some thrusters,” he teased, dropping to the floor and vulgarly thrusting his hips back and forth.

Ethan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She wasn’t feeling well last night,” he explained as he programmed his treadmill. “Said she had a headache and wanted to go home and sleep it off.”

“She gave you the headache excuse? Damn, man. What’d you do to piss her off?”

Ethan scrunched his brow together. “What? Nothing.” The thought of Sawyer making up an excuse not to spend the night together hadn’t even crossed his mind. 

“That you know of…” Bryce chuckled. 

He flipped him off, then started running at full speed on the treadmill, hoping to tune out the obnoxious scalpel jockey.

His gym buddy laughed in response. “I’m just giving you a hard time, man. In all seriousness, I’m sure it’s been hard for her to be back. She probably just reached her limit and needed to crash.”

Ethan nodded. Did she need space? Had he been hovering? Was he being overprotective? Or, attempting to keep their relationship out of the public eye, had he inadvertently hurt her feelings? The thoughts in his head whirred round and round like the rubber tread under his feet.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Dr. Ramsey rattled off medication adjustments to the nurse as they exited their patient’s room. He paused to let her type the orders into a tablet when, down the hall, a familiar voice caught his attention.  

“Page me if you need anything, Esme. I’m going to take a quick lunch break,” Sawyer said to her intern. 

He quickly reviewed and signed off on the patient’s chart and tried to catch up with her. When he reached the end of the hallway, he turned the corner and found Baz and Zaid engaged in conversation. 

“Did you see which way Sawyer went?” Ethan interrupted, looking left and right at the intersection. 

“No, she didn’t come this way,” the twins said simultaneously. 

Ethan swirled back around, trying to figure out where the woman he was dating had disappeared. Then he noticed the door to a supply closet. Cracking the door open, the light from the hallway illuminated the small, dark space. 

Sawyer sat on the floor, her head leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. The door softly scraped on the floor as Ethan pushed it further open, and she cracked one eye open. Seeing the familiar face, she quietly groaned, “Hi.” Stepping into the tight space, he closed the door behind him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, flipping on the lights. When Sawyer winced, he quickly turned them off. 

“Thank you,” she murmured. 

She laid her head on his shoulder when he sank to the floor beside her. 

“Another headache?” he guessed, taking her hand in his. 

“Yeah.”

“How bad?”

“Like migraine bad.”

“And how long has this been going on? The headaches?” 

She hesitated before answering, and Ethan knew he wouldn’t like the answer. “I’ve had them since the attack, but they’ve progressively worsened since being back at work.”

Ethan sighed deeply. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

“Dammit, Sawyer… I wish you would stop saying that.” Remembering her pain, he quickly tempered his frustration and squeezed her hand lovingly. “I care about you. I’m all in with you. And I want to be there for you. Aside from all that, I’m still technically your physician. You should have told me-”

“They’re just minor headaches…”

There was a buzz in his pocket. As he reached for his phone, Ethan rolled his eyes and mumbled about doctors being the worst patients. Dismissing the unimportant call, he continued his lecture. “They’re not so minor if you seek refuge in a dark closet. I won’t let you suffer like this. And Sawyer, we don’t know anything about the long-term effects of the poisoning or the antidote. You need to let me run some tests and ensure it’s nothing serious.”

“Okay, and you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Come here.” Ethan guided Sawyer’s body down until her head rested in his lap. Carefully untangling the elastic from her hair, he combed his long fingers through it, then gently massaged her head. 

“That feels good. Thank you,” Sawyer whispered.

He continued to rub her head through a fifteen-minute power nap before waking and convincing her to call it a day. “Go back to my place. It’s quiet, and you can soak in the tub. I’ll take over your patients.”  

After dusting themselves off, Ethan opened the door for Sawyer to step out first. His chest bumped into her back when she suddenly froze at the threshold. Looking over her head, he saw a familiar face stepping out of the patient room on the other side of the hall. The nurse smirked. “Good for you, doctors.”

“It’s not what it looks like, Maureen,” Sawyer attempted to explain.

“Uh-huh,” she sang, walking away.

Sawyer turned to face Ethan. “I totally have sex hair right now, don’t I?”

He handed over her elastic hairband with a sympathetic half-smile and smoothed her teased hair down. 

<><><><><><><><><><>

A few hours later, Ethan entered his quiet apartment. Following the soft yellow light that filtered through the half-open door of his bedroom, he found Sawyer curled up in bed, scrolling through her phone. 

“Hey, Rookie, how are you feeling?” he asked, toeing out of his shoes and pulling off his tie. 

“Hi. Much better.”

Lying down next to her, he tugged her close for a hug and kiss. “I got a couple of Maxalt samples from the pharma rep and sent a prescription to the hospital pharmacy. You should be able to pick it up in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Sawyer said, but her tone sounded defeated.  

“I know you don’t like taking medication, Soe, but I think it will bring you some relief.” Ethan kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair. “I can’t bear to see you in any more pain. Not after all that you’ve already endured.”

“Speaking of relief, can I ask you a question? As my doctor?”

“Of course.”

“I read a study earlier today, and the data suggested that sexual activity can lead to partial or complete headache relief in some migraine patients.”

“I’m familiar with the study.” Ethan smiled, knowing his patient well enough to see where this line of questioning was going.  

“Of course you are…” She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Well, I was wondering if you think it might be effective in my case.”

“Sex releases endorphins, which are natural painkillers,” Ethan explained. “So yes, it could very well ease your symptoms.”  

Sawyer scrunched her face and rubbed her forehead. “Ooooh… ahhhh… my head is suddenly throbbing.”

Gesturing to where his pants were now feeling very tight, he smirked. “Yeah, so is mine. You rub mine, and I’ll rub yours?” 

“Deal.”

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