"Morning, Mr. Shepherd."
"Good morning, indeed."
His lips, very much attracted to the crook of my neck, curve into a knowing grin as they roam further over my bare shoulders.
"I can tell." An amusing hum vibrates my throat. "Care to show my lips some love?"
With one swift move, he maneuvers my body to be underneath him. "All you have to do is ask."
Moments after the end of a blissful start to the morning, my phone blares with an incoming call. Similar to our prior position, Derek hugs my waist from behind as I pick up the phone.
"Dr. Phoenix, Mr. Mays has a hemoglobin of 6."
"Huh. That isn't very good, is it?"
"No, not really. I still think he's showing symptoms of a rare retroperitoneal tumor."
"Get an M.R.I. and a hemoccult done, and I should be there."
Before she can say another word, the call ends — thanks to Derek — and we resume our activities.
His nose nuzzles my cheek. "I don't have to lecture until ten if you'd like me to cook you some breakfast. Still not sure it justifies the size of my paycheck, but —"
"No buts. You're a brilliant teacher."
A few more kisses and an acceptance of his offer to make breakfast, Derek sends me out of the house with the reminder of a post-treatment appointment with Dr. Barrinski the next day.
Lifting the film towards the light, I stare in shock. "What the hell."
"You see the retrocrural mass, don't you?" The intern stumbles over her words. "Because if you don't, then the whole rare tumor thing goes out the window."
"What the hell."
After a difficult and emotional discussion with Mr. Mays, Brooks and I manage to ease the bodyguard and assure him the tumor could be resected.
"Derek must be so proud. You'll be like-like Mr. and Mrs. Impossible Tumor."
Shuffling can be heard through Cristina's end of the line as she prepares for bed. On the other hand, with Washington being just two hours before Minnesota, I finish cooking dinner.
"But he isn't Mr. Impossible Tumor. Not anymore, at least. And I don't wanna brag about it, so I've been holding off on discussing surgeries with him. Besides, this is my first major breakthrough as the only surgical oncologist here. I can't jinx it."
"Can you imagine never doing surgery again?"
"Of course not. No one can, including him. No one can see it coming."
"Oh, my God. He doesn't see it coming."
"That better not be some sort of sexual innuendo —"
"Thanks, Lev. I gotta go. I'll call you in the morning. Bye."
The call ends, and Derek comes in through the front door. He holds a briefcase in his hand, the other clenching every few moments.
"Oh, I hate teaching."
"That's a lie if I ever heard one."
"I just never realized how much I rely on just having them be able to watch me do the thing."
"Instructions can be nice. Especially when you've got the hots for your teacher."
His brows raise in surprise, and I lean over the kitchen counter to pour the rest of the wine bottle into his glass. As if magnetically, his gaze is drawn to the top of my shirt, narrowing in deep thought.
"Did they get bigger? Because they definitely look bigger."
"God, you sound like Mark."
Bright and early the next morning comes time for Mr. Mays' surgery. And although fearful of the outcome, he refuses to "freak out."
"Suction."
"I'm sorry. You're just such a badass. And I shouldn't have been bragging. But I-I liked feeling like one, too."
The gallery above is filled with surgeons and interns alike, all present to observe the opportunistic surgery of a lifetime.
"If I was a real badass, I would've just kept my mouth shut. Been stoic. Silent."
"I was an intern, too, when I called an attending badass. It'd been the first time she referred to someone as such. And she'd been an attending for years at that point." My eyes never leave the tumor. "Kinda nice to be called one in my first year."
Behind the mask, the typically anxious interns beams eagerly.
"Now, more suction, please. I can't get good visualization."
"Sorry, Dr. Phoenix."
The tumor. . .is removed successfully. Mr. Mays survives to live a long and full life in his bodyguard career.
"Congratulations, Dr. Phoenix." Derek approaches gently. "I was in the gallery with Hunt. We stayed for the whole thing."
My lips purse. "Did you hear about it from one of your interns?"
"Leven, I'm not gonna grow a beard and run off and live in the woods. Regardless of if you have a good day or a bad one, I wanna hear about it."
His hand cups my cheek.
"I'm not gonna run away."
"I had no idea where to start with that damn thing. And that supraceliac aorta? What a bitch to get around. But then I realized. . .the mattox maneuver."
"A trauma move?"
"Once I exposed the other side of the kidney, I had perfect visualization."
"I couldn't be prouder, Leven."
"She even called me a badass. I mean me, a badass?"
And instead of the fear of Derek storming out of the hospital in seething jealousy, my husband curls his arm around my frame and kisses the corner of my lips.
"As much as I'd like to ransack the nearest on-call room, you have an appointment to get to."
"Oh, his secretary called to cancel. But he left a voicemail earlier, I just hadn't had the chance to check it."
"Alright, well, I'll get changed, grab our things, and start up the car. You check the voicemail and see if he had anything important to say."
Our lips touch in a swift peck, and Derek leaves for the attending lounge. I scroll through my phone until I find the voicemail before pressing it to my ear.
"Hi, Leven. Dr. Barrinski, here. I hope Cindy called to cancel your appointment. There's no need to come in other than a recommendation for a new doctor and some positive results from your blood work two weeks ago."
And the very words I could never have expected to hear are spoken into my ears.
"Congratulations, you're pregnant."