Archive of Our Own

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Yolanda took her time slipping out of her work shoes and into her civvies. She was physically and emotionally exhausted, especially after her run-in downstairs with Dr. Santos. It had been less than a week since what she referred to in her head as the couch incident. It weighed heavily between them when they crossed paths at work. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about it, because naturally after it happened their schedules had clashed and there had been little communication between them, let alone time for drives or hanging out.

She could feel the eyes of the nurses in the trauma rooms observing them together. Sometimes even the attending, though no one breathed a word about it to either of them. Just a few days ago they were still able to banter back and forth, often toeing the line between teasing and flirting. Now they could barely look each other in the eye.

Sometimes the thought still made her squeamish if she lingered on it for too long. 

Not over the act itself, she held that close to her chest. But the vulnerability on both sides of it.

“Don’t shit where you eat, pendeja,” her older sister had tutted at her, uncharacteristically crass during one of their weekly calls (predictably, their youngest sister, also on the line, merely needed to know how hot Trinity was). Garcia took the criticism on the chin, so long as it didn’t get back to their mother, or god forbid, the extended family.

She was still replaying what Santos had hissed at her when Garcia cornered her downstairs.

“Do you show up to Walsh’s home too and have her fuck herself for you?”

She’d recoiled as if hit, face reddening both in anger and embarrassment. The intern was in a foul mood, wound tight after several consecutive hectic hours of being yanked in different directions. She witnessed it every time she was pulled downstairs but helpless to do anything for Santos.

She was visibly frazzled, nearly running on empty, but unwilling to take any kind of comfort amidst the chaos of the evening. She was being used as a punching bag but didn’t have it in her to really fault the other woman until she’d made the indelicate comment about Emery. 

Garcia didn’t know what Santos had seen or heard, but she should’ve known by now that Dr. Walsh was merely an old friend and colleague.

In her heart of hearts, she knew it probably had more to do with the other night. The stalled closeness, a couple of unanswered texts. There was a noticeable rift, and maybe Yolanda was feeling insecure about it all too, but then she hadn’t been the one in the more exposed position. Maybe the surgeon had brought this down on herself.

Garcia wasn’t a timid person but a workplace romance was out of her comfort zone, it wasn’t in her nature to take these kinds of risks professionally. Or otherwise really. A one night stand was different from wooing someone she saw almost every day at work, they were strange waters to navigate. Particularly when their almost comical push and pull dynamic was making her second guess everything. 

And Trinity wasn’t dumb, not by a long shot. She could discern the most minute change in people, she was instinctual, it’s what made her a great doctor. She didn’t play games and she held people accountable for their actions. Garcia was not spared because there were fuzzy feelings involved (more than, if she was being honest with herself). 

Either way, she was defeated and ready to leave.

She took comfort in her sluggish movements, grateful to no longer have to be aware of any kind of schedule. She would go home and put on something stupid. Maybe get take out from her favorite place and make a fancy cocktail.

She was just standing to grab her bag from her locker when someone burst into the room, causing the door to slam back into the wall harshly. 

“You’re still here.”

Santos was out of breath, leaning on the nearest wall for support. It would’ve been pretty amusing under any other circumstances.

“I’m on my way out.”

Dr. Garcia quickly looked away and made to move around the other woman.

She held her hand out, waving it erratically.

“Wait. I have things to say.”

“Oh good, I was hoping for another barrage of vitriol at the end of my shift.”

“I’m an asshole.”

“If you don’t want to do this you can just say so Dr. Santos. We’re not obligated contractually, or otherwise.”

Trinity had finally caught her breath but now she was clenching her jaw as hard as she was clenching both hands at her sides. She looked up in frustration for a moment, almost as if pleading silently with some deity Yolanda knew perfectly well she did not believe in. 

“Fuck.”

“Your eloquence is as charming as ever.”

“Can you not? I’m trying really hard. Fuck. I hate this vulnerability shit.”

She ran a hand down her face in frustration.

“I want this, like it’s embarrassing. I’m just not good at the feelings part.”

Dr. Garcia who had been standing with her arms crossed, unclenched at the earnest confession. It’s not as if she was so great at the romantic gestures herself. Lord knew she had disappointed her fair share of women, between her work schedule and general inability to offer intimacy outside of the bedroom. 

“I think we could both use some improvements,” she offered quietly.

Santos licked her lips. Her hair was sticking up in random places, clearly having finished a shift from hell and it only charmed Garcia even more. 

“Will you let me take you out to dinner? Make it up to you for this stupid day?”

Yoalnda let out a long sigh. 

“How about I let you get take out and we go back to mine? I need a shower and a cold adult beverage.”

“Yours?”

There was a light stammer in her tone, shy and uncertain because despite the fact that Santos had walked her to her door multiple times by now, maybe gotten a glimpse of the entry hallway, they weren’t really familiar with each other’s personal spaces. It was a new milestone for them and one that Garcia did not take lightly, despite the casual way she had thrown the suggestion out. It was an olive branch as much as it was gambling for closeness, not knowing how the invitation would be received.

“If you’re not comfortable-”

She nodded vigorously.

“Done.”

Garcia released the small breath she’d been holding, hoping the other woman hadn’t noticed it.

“Dr. Santos, you move fast. I didn’t know you had such a romantic streak in you.”

The doctor in question startled at Dr. Walsh, who had woken up at the ruckus from the weathered couch in the locker room. She had been watching the back and forth between them, enthralled. Garcia had seen her head bobbing out of the corner of her eye but chose not to derail their conversation over it.

Dr. Santos let out a loud groan instead of choosing to address Emery at all. Yolanda couldn’t blame her, not when Dr. Walsh didn’t even bother hiding her shit eating grin. 

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” she threw back at Garcia on her way out of the room.

She finally turned to her friend.

“You better tell her I'll replace her brain with her spleen if she doesn't treat you right.”

“Cut it out.”

“Exactly. That’s what I’m saying.”

“Behave yourself. Have a good shift, Em.”

“I want details tomorrow.”

Yolanda laughed tiredly as she exited the room. Emery called after her.

“I’m serious, at least one of us has prospects!”

Taking separate turns in the shower was followed by dinner. They were ravenous enough that any conversation was stalled until they were finished. After that, they spent the rest of the evening on the couch, curled into one another, watching nonsense. Eventually Yolanda offered an apology of her own, it was only right. 

She hadn’t meant to deliberately hurt her, but she could see where she had been careless with the other woman’s feelings. How she had been subtly pulling away, subconsciously or not. Trinity said little in response but knew it had been appreciated when the grip on her thigh tightened for a moment, as she burrowed further into her. 

When Trinity fell asleep on her shoulder, she managed to dislodge herself to pick out clothes for her to sleep in, trying not to second guess herself over the whole ordeal. The woman barely fought it when Yolanda woke her up to herd her into bed. If Trinity was surprised at being asked to stay, she didn’t say so. 

They brushed their teeth shyly next to one another, sneaking glances. Yolanda felt juvenile, it was strange as it was comfortable. A hook up, well she would’ve railed them against the sink already, this was too tenuous to approach that way. Even when Trinity looked beautiful and soft, hair tousled, in one of her oversized t-shirts. 

Once their nightly routines were done, Trinity waited patiently to see which side Yolanda would take before climbing in herself. Something tender unfurled inside of her at the gesture but she remained neutral as they said their goodnights and she turned to switch off her bedside lamp.

Despite her own weariness, she stayed up, watching her sleep. The way her lips pursed, the semi permanent furrow between her eyebrows smoothing out that made Yolanda want to press her lips to both and breathe her in. 

She couldn't really remember the last time she’d allowed anyone to spend the night. There hadn’t been anyone worthwhile, not for years. She wasn’t too stubborn to admit that it was comforting. 

That maybe she wouldn’t mind it happening again

                                        _____________________________

“I kind of have a date tonight.”

Which was definitely not what she had expected out of Santos’s mouth when she approached her at the end of their shift to see what the plan would be, if there was a plan at all. The intern was always surprising her, but it usually didn’t leave her with a sinking feeling.

She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, avoiding her eyes. 

Yolanda thought that they were getting somewhere, especially now that Trinity felt comfortable coming to hers, she had hoped that soon the invitation would be extended to the intern’s place. She didn’t even care if Whitaker would be there or not. She was more than willing to make nice with the people that meant something to her. 

She loved their check-ins at the end of the shift, even if they weren’t actually going to do anything or one or both had other plans. She would always miss Santos of course, but sometimes just saying goodnight and walking the intern to her car was enough on a day like that. God just the thought made her internally flush in embarrassment. 

 It was the most fun she’d had in such a long stretch of time despite the heavy tension between them that had yet to be resolved. She still thought about the time on the couch, how besides chaste kisses on the cheek, there hadn’t been much to tell really. But she enjoyed her company enough to not let it get to her head. 

It seemed to be the same for Santos who was as sardonic as ever but now and then would allow an earnest, even sweet, version of herself to peek through that she didn’t get to see when consulting in the ED. 

If they were casual, Garcia imagined she would’ve been relieved to have the rest of the evening to herself. She could shrug it off and tell Santos to have fun and not overthink about this person being brought back to Trinity’s apartment. Not spiral about them having an intimate moment on that fucking couch, where she’d made herself vulnerable for Garcia.

But even when they were telling themselves it was just getting to know each other, never giving it a proper name, Yolanda knew deep down in her gut it was anything but casual. It was easy to conceal these things from herself until presented with the cold hard truth, then she couldn’t unsee it. The tightness in her chest and the way her throat closed told her everything she didn’t want to know. She was on the brink of having a visceral reaction in front of someone who wasn’t even a girlfriend and was absolutely horrified by the prospect. 

She cleared her throat.

“I see. Raincheck?”

She was proud of the way her voice hadn’t even wavered. Santos seemed taken aback by how collected the surgeon was, almost hurt by it. She didn’t think she had much of a leg to stand on, but that would have to be a conversation for another day because she was holding on to her sanity by the skin of her teeth. It was one step forward then two steps back with them.

She didn’t have the energy to be angry, or even passive aggressive. There was a sadness that weighed her down, but she would power through the rest of the conversation and save her gay meltdown for the ride home.

“Sure, raincheck.”

There was a barely concealed bitterness at the agreement. Garcia promptly turned on her heel, leaving Santos with whatever feelings she was apparently stewing in, even though she was the one who had made the mess they were now standing in. 

Once she was safely in her car, she took a few deep breaths to settle her nerves before the drive. She thought about the last couple of months of her life, how everything had inevitably narrowed down to Trinity. Sure, she did everything else the same, nothing had really changed dramatically except how she felt about the woman. The increasing affection and how she wanted to include her in all aspects of her life. She was a woman who was sure of herself. Her life was generally mess free. She had a job she loved, a social life that met her needs, people she cared about. How had everything become such a shit show?

Yolanda from six months ago would’ve told her she was being pathetic and to get it together. She never would have allowed this to happen but somewhere along the way she had lost sight of something.

She pulled her phone out and told herself not to overthink the decision.

She quickly typed out her message and hit send. Despite the dread, she was feeling much more clear headed and found that she could safely get herself home in one piece.

I think it’s probably best if we keep our relationship professional from now on. We gave it our best shot but it’s obviously not what either of us needs. Take care.

____________________________

Emery ate her meal with gusto, dark glasses obscuring half her face as they sat watching people walk by from the patio of the restaurant. Through her fog Yolanda dimly noticed she looked rather chic, in her little booties and leather jacket. Her curls had been tamed, shiny and bouncy, instead of hastily wrangled into a hair tie. She’d have to ask her later if she had a date of some kind. She cleared her throat and daintily wiped at her mouth.

“So. Elena called me worried about you.”

Very oh so casual. As if it was no big deal. As if she and her oldest sister were old drinking buddies that talked all the time. Yolanda picked at her eggs, she could be casual too, though she could already feel her jaw starting to clench.

“Oh? Why didn’t she say anything to me?”

“You mean when you’ve bothered to briefly call and are evasive about everything including a certain abrasive intern we all know?”

“Don’t.”

It had only been a measly week. Not even a full one really. Her text though read, had gone unanswered which was even worse and apparently had not been doing a very good job of hiding it. She didn’t divulge details to anyone, not even Emery, because there was nothing to tell. She wasn’t in a relationship. But of course everyone knew to her great irritation. 

She could acknowledge that maybe she’d withdrawn a little, to the point that Emery felt compelled to use her spare emergency key and kick her ass out of bed to have a proper meal. 

“You missed a game you asshole. You never miss a game,” Emery had huffed standing over her that morning.

The fact that she was expressing an emotion was enough to jostle her awake, into a shower and semi presentable clothing. She’d been wallowing like some adolescent but she didn’t have the energy to be angry or annoyed about it. The only time she felt present was when she was in front of a patient.

“I didn’t want to say it, but you’re scaring the hoes, as the kids say, Yoyo. Between the two of us you’re supposed to be the nice one. I like being the one everyone is scared of, please don’t make me switch spots. Dana says she doesn’t need her team spiraling when they know you’re coming down.”

Yolanda snorted, only mildly amused she had the ED team in a tizzy. 

They paused in their conversation to nod politely at their waitress checking on them. Emery drained the rest of her mimosa and finally lifted her glasses on her head to stare at her dead on. Garcia didn’t have it in her to defend her actions. She knew on a good day she could be intense, brusque and brash even. Efficiency was vital. Maybe she’d been a little cranky since everything with Trinity.

But to hear it straight from a trusted friend made her inwardly wince. She cupped her coffee for comfort and stared down into it, hoping to buy some time.

“Look, I know it’s hard right now. I also know you’re a big girl but your sister would not have called me if it wasn’t serious. Whatever happens with you and Santos, you have a support system. It’s going to be ok, Yolanda.”

She nodded without looking up until Emery placed a firm hand on her forearm.

“I’m going to let you digest, in the meantime I think we need another pitcher no?”

“Sure. Thanks, Em.”

“Listen, as long as you don’t go around telling people I have feelings, we’re good.”

                             ___________________________________

Dr. Garcia would have denied it if asked outright but she was loitering in the ED breakroom, when surgical had a perfectly good (and frankly better) one, in the sparse hopes that Dr. Santos would take her lunch. Fully aware that the chances of her turning right around and hiding away from her were pretty high, she at least had to make the effort. She was also more than aware that she was officially pitiful.

They’d been adults at least, even if stiffly working together, even if not really acknowledging each other’s presence. Her sadness had tapered off and now she was just pissed all the time and couldn’t figure out how not to be, without swallowing her pride and asking Santos to talk. So here she was.

She felt brittle, like the next thing would completely decimate her. 

She scrolled through all the notifications and messages on her phone, leaning against the kitchen counter. She didn’t think she’d want to ever get back up if she actually sat down for the first time in several hours. So far only a couple of people had come in to quickly stuff something in their mouth from the fridge or refill their coffee before dashing back out onto the Pitt floor. 

The door opened again and she very casually glanced up to see who it was. Dr. Whitaker froze when he noticed her and remained motionless in the doorway, his perpetually tired eyes now wide.

She glanced back down at her phone, disappointed.

“I won’t bite, Whitaker. Don’t let me stop you from whatever you were doing.”

“Uh, ok.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him do a weird little bow before fully stepping into the room. They watched each other cautiously as he reached for a mug to heat water in the microwave. He fiddled with his ramen cup, continuing to glance at her, in what he probably thought was a surreptitious manner. 

She was growing agitated as she texted the family group chat back about something stupid she didn’t really care about and couldn’t even attend anyway. She finished her quiz on Autostraddle about what kind of gay shoe she was before turning to Whitaker. 

“If you have something to say just say it. There’s no use beating around the bush.”

It came out harsher than was probably warranted, it was the equivalent of yelling at some small animal that didn’t know why it was in trouble. But to his credit he faced her, looking right into her eyes determined. 

“Sorry, uh. I guess- well Trin doesn’t really talk about her feelings-”

Yolanda had to snort at that.

He scratched the back of his head.

“God, she’s going to kill me if she finds out- I just kind of noticed you guys weren’t really hanging out anymore. Which is not my business and I don’t want to know anything but-”

The microwave dinged and he took a moment to pull out the mug and carefully pour it over his noodles. He looked at her again.

“She’s been really sad. She doesn’t say it, but she’s been quiet, kind of not there, you know?”

Garcia was well acquainted with the feeling as of late but she didn’t reply. 

“So I figured it had something to do with you. So if you guys made up or something, maybe she’d be ok again. Sorry, again, not my business. I just want Trinity to be alright.”

He shrugged quickly and carried his styrofoam cup to the empty table, signaling the end of the conversation.

She managed to choke out a quick thanks before making her exit. On an impulse she purchased one of those disgusting energy drinks in a can that she occasionally saw Santos chugging out of the first vending machine she saw. She scribbled on a sticky note and left it at the desk while Dana was occupied, knowing she wouldn’t have trouble finding it anyway. 

_______________________

Yolanda was chopping herbs for dinner when she heard it. 

If her music had been blasting she might’ve missed it entirely and thought she imagined it. Sometimes she blatantly ignored it. More often than she liked, it was usually a couple of kids from the church, wanting to have a long conversation she did not care for or have the patience to entertain. 

It was faint but it was there. She let out an annoyed huff and set her knife down (as effective as she thought it would be to discourage whoever it was).

She swung the door open ready to shoo them away but there was no one there.

She looked down the hallway to see a silhouette that could not be mistaken for anyone other than Trinity Santos already almost to the elevator. She was grumbling to herself in frustration, that much was clear. Her stomach fluttered and her heart basically lodged itself in her throat where it remained stuck until she managed to find her voice. 

“Trinity.”

She froze and took her time turning around, obviously regretting being found out.

“Don’t mind the lunatic in your hallway. I was just leaving.”

There was something off about her, even from this distance, Yolanda could see she wasn’t herself. She wondered idly if she was under the influence of something, even if it didn’t match up with what she knew about the intern. Either way, she wasn’t going to let the other woman run off and do something stupid.

“I’m making dinner, let’s go.”

“You don’t-”

“It wasn’t a request Santos, I will come down there and throw you over my shoulder.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Yolanda simply raised an eyebrow then decided to switch tactics.

“Trinity, whatever it is, I want to help. Please.”

She looked so small then, wide eyes finally meeting hers. They were sadder than she’d ever seen, not that it was an emotion they usually conveyed to one another, but it was a little startling to see on the normally cocky woman. She held her hand out stubbornly, patiently waiting all the time it took for her to come down the hall and accept the offer. She edged over, like a nervous horse, finally close enough to take the palm offered.

Once the door was locked, Yolanda held her in her arms and Trinity dissolved into them, burrowing into her neck. Neither said anything, she knew when she was ready, she’d divulge whatever she needed to, it wasn’t in her nature to pry. She didn’t like nosy people prying into her own life much less offering vacant assurances. She kissed her temple and rubbed her back in slow circles.

“Is it really ok that I'm here?”

Her voice was small. Demonstrating vulnerability was not an easy feat, it was rare, if it happened at all, for either of them. She could only imagine she was beating herself up for even asking the question. She tilted Trinity’s chin up.

“I would have let you get into that elevator and pretended I didn't see you if I didn’t care. Which I have done with other people, mind you.”

That got a small smile out of her at least, despite the sheen in her eyes.

“I don’t know what the fuck we are to each other, I’m not saying I need an answer either. But I do know your wellbeing matters to me. Let me feed you, distract you, whatever.”

She nodded, still looking a little unsure so Yolanda rubbed her hands up and down her arms soothingly before giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek. Dangerously close to her lip, but this was not going to be how their first kiss went. 

“I’m going to make us some tea. Please sit, make yourself comfortable.”

Her sad expression was back again, it wasn’t clear what it was due to, but she obeyed regardless.

This was not how she’d imagined having Trinity over for a home cooked meal. Not by a long shot. And she’d daydreamed about it an embarrassing number of times. Yolanda was growing used to stewing in her own humiliation, almost resigned to it, when it came to the woman now on her living room sectional.

She imagined flowers and candles and all that absurd crap everyone knew was supposed to signal or at the very least imply romance.

 Imagined hushed confessions and soft kisses. She would take Trinity to bed and take her time because it’s what she deserved. She felt a hot flush at the thought, glad to be in the kitchen fussing with the kettle.

When she finally arrived with both their mugs, Trinity was staring off into the distance, very far from here. She set them down wordlessly, not wanting to startle her.

“I know my being super bummed out is like a mood killer,” she started.

Not exactly the intro she expected.

“I didn’t have expectations, just because you’re here,” she raised an eyebrow at her. “Whatever happens between us is because we both agree to it. Anyway I’m not some Neanderthal that only wants you around for sex.”

“My wit and charm right?”

“Something like that.”

Trinity played with the string on her tea bag for a moment, steeping it then setting it down next to Yolanda’s without actually trying to take a sip. She took a deep breath, silently resolved and turned to her. 

“I’m warning you right now, there’s like a rigorous obstacle course and then a twenty foot wall to unlock my tragic backstory. I’ve never even talked about it with Dennis and for all intents and purposes, he’s my best friend.”

Instead of feeling discouraged by this revelation Yolanda could only feel a deep affection. Her hair was haphazardly thrown up with a claw clip and she wanted nothing more than to pull it out to sink her fingers into it to watch the content look on Trinity’s face, the way her eyes closed, the few times she had dared to do it. 

“Noted. Your willingness to share doesn’t change anything.”

“Plus mystery is hot right? People like to maintain some mystery in their-”

She cut herself off, lips pursing, before god forbid, relationship came out. Not that Yolanda was exactly eager to use it herself. 

She ignored the slip and easily changed the subject.

“I’ll never push you, Trinity. Not outside the ED, anyway. But, if you wanted, you could talk about other things.”

She set her mug aside, sinking further into the couch, legs pulled up. Her hand lifted to caress the back of her cheek and then part of her ear. Santos’s reaction to it was immediate, eager and dazed all at once with the attention.

“I’m sorry I fucked it all up.”

“You didn’t. I mean it didn’t feel great, but here we are.”

“Like I’ve said, the vulnerability shit isn’t my forte. I’m good at a lot of things, but that’s not usually one of them. I kind of thought if I went on a date I could prove to myself that my feelings didn’t really mean anything.”

Yolanda, against her better judgement took a deep breath and asked the thing she wasn’t sure she even wanted to know.

“How was it?”

Trinity rolled her eyes.

“I mean fine. I was comparing her to you the whole time. So dumb.”

Garcia couldn’t have helped her facial expression at the admission if her life depended on it. 

“Oh shut up.”

“How was the sex?”

“Wow, ok.”

She picked at invisible lint on the heavy flannel over her crop top, clearly stalling for time.

“I tried, but it didn’t really happen and I had to leave.”

Yolanda made a non-committal noise, this time better at hiding her relief but also how smug she felt.  

“Whatever. Can we talk about something else?”

“You could tell me why there’s two piercings in this ear and only one in the other? Or we could talk about family. You could tell me what your tattoos mean. That kind of thing.”

Her gaze sharpened at the change in conversation. She counted off on her fingers.

“Probably the same reason you’ve got the same thing going on. They’re semi bearable enough during the holidays. And not ready to talk about that. What if we just like, tried to watch something instead?”

She dropped her hand, unwilling to admit or acknowledge the pang of disappointment at how glaringly averse Santos was to quite an array of personal topics. She knew some things of course, the way she took her coffee, what her favorite foods were and how spicy she liked them. That she emitted these tiny snores when she slept she just knew Trinity would balk at if she even brought it up. That she used to be more athletic but not anymore, for reasons that had yet to be revealed.

Even so, it was unpredictable as to which questions would raise her hackles and cause her to switch gears.

She handed her the remote and stood, trying to detach from the terrible churning inside her. She knew the intern wasn’t a fan of sharing, and it wasn’t that they ever ran out of topics or had ever grown bored of one another’s company, but maybe she was starting to need more.

It’s not as if the surgeon was some open book herself but she liked to think she was pushing herself to be less guarded. She actively reminded herself Trinity was obviously hurting and maybe now wasn’t the time to push for that kind of thing. 

“Why don’t you pick something out and I'll finish up in the kitchen?”

“I want to help. I feel useless just sitting here while you’re cooking for us.”

“You can watch me, if you like and then I'll let you set the table. Take it or leave it.”

She sprung up and motioned for Yolanda to lead the way into the kitchen. At first she was content to haul herself onto a counter and make casual conversation, occasionally asking questions about the meal and offering her own recipe substitutes. Eventually she hopped down and started exploring parts of the apartment and Yolanda offered her the freedom to do so, whatever would make her feel comfortable and at home. 

She popped her head in once to dangle a Paula Abdul CD between her thumb and forefinger, merely raising an eyebrow in question. Yolanda wasn’t sure if she was being judged for her music taste or the fact that she still owned CDs. She only gave her a quick once over before returning to her tasks.

“What can I say, you had to be there I guess.”

Trinity hummed and popped away again.

It didn’t take long before she circled back and leaned next to Garcia stirring at the stove, who had admittedly gone into some meditative trance at the repetitive movement, thinking about laundry and her next grocery trip. The intern leaned back on her elbows watching her.

“Today is the anniversary of someone I lost when I was younger. I didn’t want to risk being alone. That’s as far as I want to take this conversation. Is that cool?”

Yolanda continued to stir even though the admission had obviously shocked her, not expecting Trinity to be so forthcoming but she didn’t let it register on her face. She turned the stove off and placed the spoon on the holder, wiping her hands on a dish towel before facing her. 

“To quote someone I know, I'll take whatever you want to give me. Dinner is ready if you’re hungry.”

“Well I never would’ve guessed Trinity Santos was into romcoms.”

She had unabashedly picked the most absurd film, if it could be called that, obviously having seen it multiple times. Yolanda was endlessly endeared by it but she couldn’t outright tell her of course, so she had to tease her a little. Trinity looked away for a minute and her jaw muscles clenched. She took a deep breath.

“It’s kind of nice to watch something low stakes. You know what you’re getting and everyone is kind to each other.”

It came out breathless and maybe her chin wobbled a little. 

It took everything in her to not scoop the woman into her arms. She knew that they were so similar in a lot of ways (she dared anyone to try to hug her when she was in a foul mood) and the last thing she wanted was to make her uncomfortable or drive her away. Instead she moved her hand just centimeters from Santos on the couch cushion, giving her the option to take it, if she needed it. Garcia hoped she would. Trinity finally did without much fanfare, absently playing with the fingers on her lap.

“Anyway, no one would believe you if you told them, I'd just tell them you’re a liar.”

There was a hint of a smile in her tone.Yolanda could only gape at the quick pivot. She never ceased to be amazed at the way she used humor to redirect a conversation. 

“I think you’ll like this one, there’s surprise lesbians."

“Wow, what a time to be alive.”

Like the gentleman she was, Yolanda walked Trinity to the door after she’d waved away her offer to drive her home.

“I could use the walk, I'm stuffed from dinner honestly.”

She bit down the urge to ask the intern to stay the night again, she wasn’t sure if it was anything Trinity wanted and after all that back and forth, it was probably best to play it safe. But it didn’t stop her from aching at the thought of her leaving. She promised Whitaker would be home by the time she got there but the instinct to want to take care of her was strong.

“There is something you could do for me.”

She licked her lips and leaned against the door, eyes soft and trusting, pulling her in like a siren.

Yolanda leaned in closer, pulse racing. 

“Name it.”

“It’s really more my attempt to say thanks for the energy drink.”

It was nothing short of a relief to be pressed against Trinity, as they reached for each other at the same time. She pinned her against the door, hand inching into her hair, the hair clip lost somewhere in her couch cushions no doubt. She could feel the other woman’s heartbeat, almost as erratic as hers. Trinity’s little exhale on her lips made her skin vibrate, as did the way her eyes pierced right through Yolanda, commanding and imploring all at once. 

Their faces were close enough to breathe the same air when her phone rang shrilly from somewhere in her kitchen. She yanked her head back, ready to throttle whoever the fuck it was.

“Fuck!”

“Wow, that’s the same tone you used when I dropped that scalpel on your foot.”

She ignored the comment and stalked to the counter and saw it was Elena. She turned to Trinity in apology, rolling her eyes.

“It’s my sister, checking to make sure I'm still alive probably.”

She grimaced inwardly, hoping the remark wasn’t insensitive after what Trinity had chosen to share with her. 

“Sorry,” she finished lamely.

“You’re fine. I’ll see you at work?”

Yolanda couldn’t detect the same sadness the intern had walked in with (not completely dissolved, but alleviated at least) and she felt marginally less guilty at them having to part so suddenly. 

“Sure.”

Trinity gave her a small nod and let herself out. She didn’t pick up until she heard the door close properly.

“I swear to god, you have the worst timing.”

_________________________

“What the hell, Santos.”

Dr. Santos shrugged noncommittally watching her descend the stairs to join her in their favorite spot to have confrontations.

“I’m sure Emery is better at communicating, huh?”

She knew she was only bringing Walsh up to rile her up but being aware of it didn’t stop it from pissing her off.

“Oh fuck off, you know she’s an old friend. You are both on my shit list today.”

“Yeah, what else is new,” she drawled. 

She could be such a brat. 

Here they were in the fucking stairwell again, bickering over, well Garcia wasn’t sure how they had gotten here. She supposed it was naive of her to think that things wouldn’t come to a head, especially with how stubborn and temperamental they could both be. She usually avoided things like being goaded because she was a goddamn adult, but there was a first time for everything.

 Luckily their sparring had somehow been subtle enough for only the two of them to notice in a chaotic room full of doctors and nurses. Truth be told, everyone probably thought it was their own deranged way of flirting. She quickly sped after Santos once the case had been taken care of and the patient stabilized. 

“Why are you doing this, Trinity?”

She was tired and though unwilling to go another round in the saga of whatever the fuck they were to each other, she wasn’t a quitter.

“Dr. Santos,” she corrected, mocking the way Yolanda always had to remind her when they were alone and still at work, desperate to maintain some kind of boundary.

She moved into her space, convinced she was going to burst a blood vessel. At least she’d be in the right place if she did.

“You are such a pain in the ass.”

“Ok break up with me, oh that’s right you can’t because you haven’t even tried anything.”

Dr. Garcia straightened, growing rigid at the hurled accusation. She liked Trinity, she thought she had made it perfectly clear, even if she was right, that their physical interactions had been few and far in between. Trinity was the one that had decided to push her away after making progress, constructing a situation even less defined than before. Then they’d made up and it was business as usual. It all felt like the novelas she loved watching every night with her mom and sisters growing up. 

So maybe she was holding back a lot more than she normally would, it took two to tango didn’t it? Part of her couldn’t really blame Santos for the maze they couldn't seem to navigate themselves through.  She was constantly thinking about kissing Trinity Santos, it leaked into her dreams even. But she couldn’t bring herself to loosen the reins of control she had on such a precarious situation.

Yolanda wasn’t even sure how she could articulate any of it to the other woman without sounding stupid or lame. As the silence stretched in front of them, Dr. Santos only seemed to grow more upset.

“I’m not even really sure what it is that I did this time.”

Trinity rolled her eyes so hard she was sure she was going to strain something. Garcia crossed her arms in a silent challenge.

“So now I'm supposed to read your mind instead of us sitting down and talking like adults?”

Santos waved her hand around exasperated.

“You haven’t even-”

She visibly swallowed and looked away.

“What?’

“Do you even want to fuck me?” she whispered,“ You’re so hot and cold, I never know where we stand. I hate how needy you make me feel.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, pained by the admittance.

“I feel like an idiot.”

There was a sheen in her eyes when she opened them again and Garcia felt a pit in her stomach at the sight.

“You’re not.”

Her mouth twitched in displeasure.

“That doesn’t even answer my question.”

Garcia had to look away herself, overwhelmed already. She didn’t think she could handle this and go back up to surgery, it was too much. 

“Let’s talk about this tonight. We only have a few hours left-”

Dr. Santos scoffed and shook her head, gaze steely.

“I’m tired. I’m done begging you for anything Yolanda.”

She started to climb the stairs but before Garcia could even process the action she was pulling Santos back and pushing her gently against the wall. She cradled her face between her hands, bringing their foreheads together.

“God, of course I want to sleep with you.”

She murmured it into the miniscule space between them, trying to convey with everything she had that she meant everything being said. So much for her self preservation. 

“When I’m not in the OR, it’s literally all I think about. Do you know how hard it’s been to keep my hands to myself? Knowing how you’d be such a good girl for me?”

Santos’s breathing was labored as she stared into her eyes, unblinking, face an adorable shade of pink. She scoffed again.

“You don’t know that.”

Garcia didn’t bother correcting the intern because she knew without a doubt that she was correct in her assumptions. They spent enough time together at work and outside of it to witness firsthand the way Santos preened when she was given compliments, especially by her superiors. Especially by Dr. Garcia herself. 

“Is this what you wanted, for me to lose control like this, here of all places?”

There was no real bite behind the accusation as she wrapped her arms around the intern. They breathed each other in, not breaking eye contact, noses brushing. Now that the declaration was there blatantly, boldly between them, she realized she didn’t want to take any of it back. It was a relief to finally give voice to her thoughts, instead of carefully guarding them like she always did. She’d barely been holding it together anyway, it was only a matter of time before some kind of rupture. 

Garcia allowed herself to enjoy being this close again. To enjoy the wanting.

Trinity bit her lip, a hint of a smile on her face.

“Well, I'm not mad about it.”

She reached out to hold her chin between her thumb and pointer finger, tilting it up slightly.

“Let me take you out tomorrow, I'll make it up to you.”

“Promise.”

More command than question, but it wasn’t forceful. There was that elusive vulnerability again and Dr. Garcia wanted to reward her for it. The arm still wrapped around her gave Trinity’s hip a squeeze.

“I promise, baby.”

She was delighted at another quick blush that appeared on Dr. Santos’s face. 

“God, Dr. Garcia, you’re so unprofessional!”

She wriggled out of her embrace and was already jogging up the stairs before the surgeon could even blink. It was a good save but it wasn’t enough to dampen her mood over the sudden turn of events. 

                                                         __________________

Yolanda Garcia was annoyed at herself for being so nervous over something as silly as a date.

Granted, a date with Trinity Santos, but still.

 Not that they had explicitly confirmed it, but it sure felt like one.

Garcia had a lot to make up for after the run around she and Trinity had given one another. She was a firm believer that things like relationships were supposed to begin, easily, organically. But she felt so strongly about the woman she was starting to have her doubts. She couldn’t let her go without trying. Really trying, without any fear or bullshit or the epically terrible miscommunication they kept resorting to that was obviously not doing them any favors. 

She had picked a drive-thru, something different than just taking her to dinner. But better than a movie, she hoped anyway. 

They parted ways after their shift to shower and change before Garcia pulled up to Trinity's building. They both had the next day off and she tried not to think about what that would mean for either of them. It wasn’t about getting her hopes up so much as it was about not allowing herself to go there despite the other fantasies about the intern she nurtured. She had been a gentlewoman up until that point and though she dreamed of more since the beginning, she certainly wasn’t going to push for it, for more than Santos could or wanted to give. 

It was a unique situation and it required something different than what she normally did with hookups, like not calling them back. They worked together to begin with and that just wouldn’t do. She liked Santos and she didn’t think she could bear that look of disappointment in her eyes again after their first shift together. Whatever they were or weren’t, Yolanda was determined not to fuck it up. 

Trinity finally came out, in a dark bomber jacket and jeans, a low cut top underneath. Definitely date attire. Yolanda blew out a long breath to shake off some of the nerves before the other woman got into the passenger seat. 

For her part, she had opted for some lantern pants and a loose button up, but had thought to put on lipstick before rushing out. For a brief moment in time she felt pleased at the wide eyed look Santos gave her, before the nerves were back. The intern cleared her throat and pointedly looked away to buckle herself in.

“You look nice.”

“You as well.”

She let Santos connect her phone and play the guttural angry women she was prone to listening to. They gave her a headache if exposed for too long, but tonight it was a welcome distraction. 

Garcia had gotten them snacks that mostly remained untouched as they both kept their eyes glued to the giant screen in front of them. Sure they talked about the movie, mostly making fun of it, but little else of worth had been shared (she wasn’t sure why Santos had picked this particular one honestly, it was awful). 

Occasionally, they snuck not so subtle glances at each other. Trinity had taken her jacket off to reveal a sort of corset top underneath. She would run her hand through her bob every so often, reminding her of the night of the staff party. The way she had almost dared the surgeon to do something. 

She resisted the urge to hold onto the steering wheel for dear life. She cupped her elbows instead, lest she do something else entirely with her hands, hoping it came off as casual and not as tense as she felt. After what seemed like an unbearable eternity, she noticed Trinity shift so that her back was supported by the door, so Garcia mirrored the movement.

“Yolanda.”

“What.”

“Are you ever going to kiss me?”

She bit her lip and her tongue peeked out for a moment, the look on her face telling Yolanda she knew she was taking a gamble but wasn’t backing down now.

There was a subtle intake of breath that heaved her breasts up. Now that Yolanda could see the top head on, even in the dim light from the screen, it made her lightheaded with desire. 

Wordlessly, Garcia climbed over to sit in the back, she’d had enough adolescent hook-ups in cars to know that if she was going to kiss a woman like Trinity Santos, she certainly wasn't going to let something as dumb as a center console cockblock her. She looked over expectantly at her and she immediately scrambled to follow suit. 

She pulled her in as close as possible without dragging the intern onto her lap. They were both already breathing hard with the effort to stay in control. Santos’s eyes were dark and pleading, and who was she to deny her any longer than she already had?

The first brush of their lips was impossibly soft. There were a lot of things Yolanda wanted to do to and with her, but it would have to wait. She knew how to be patient and she wanted to savor the moment. Trinity let out a small whine that shot straight between her legs. It made Garcia feel feverish. It made her want a recording of it so that she could hold it to her ear whenever she missed the other woman.

Fuck.

She allowed herself to indulge in all the bare skin in front of her, as they continued to press lingering kisses, reverent and full of everything they’d had to hold back for so long. They only pulled away to come up for air and Yolanda didn’t know how they had gone so long without doing this.

She was mesmerized by the soft skin of her arms, tracing her fingers up and down, then all the way to her clavicle. She dipped to press kisses everywhere on Trinity’s neck, more than pleased feeling tremors go through the woman, who was currently clutching at her shoulders.

Yolanda was content to stay like this, just feeling skin on skin but Trinity took her hand impatiently, shoving it beneath her top. She let out a little gasp, coming into direct contact with a pert nipple. She leaned back, finally satisfied enough to let Garcia take the reins. She buried her face between her cleavage curbing the impulse to wrap her lips around her nipples. Every car was its own tiny universe on the lot, with most people actually watching the film, but they were still in public after all. 

Instead she breathed her in, reveling in the softness there, purposefully giving her what she needed with her thumb.

She let her free hand drift to the other one, but stayed over the thin lace. Trinity watched her with hooded eyes, pushing her chest out further and moaned. It was more than Yolanda could take before slipping her tongue into Santos’s willing mouth. They kissed languidly for a while, alternating the pressure on her nipples, both sighing into each other. 

She couldn’t help but reach up to run her fingers through Trinity’s hair, holding the back of her head to keep her as close as humanly possible. In turn, she squeezed at her hips, at wherever she allowed her roaming hands to travel, breathing little whines into Yolanda. 

She wasn’t sure how long they’d been in that position before Trinity keened then shuddered against her. She pulled her in, holding her tightly as she buried her face into Yolanda’s neck.

“Did you just-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

It was muffled but the embarrassment was clear in her tone as she nuzzled further into her.

Yolanda could feel her own face heat up. There were too many emotions swirling through her to unpack any single one effectively. There was only one thing she was certain of.

She pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I think you’re the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

Still muffled.

She gently pulled at the woman in her arms until she was forced to look Yolanda in the eyes. She was gorgeous, hair mussed, neck and chest painted in faint lipstick marks. 

“Do I look like the kind of person that goes around saying shit like that?”

Trinity started laughing and rolled her eyes despite the residual pink on her face. The surgeon cleared her throat. She was glad to have coaxed her out of her self-consciousness but now she was feeling her own creep in at the question that had popped into her mind.

“So was it-”

She let the question linger. 

Trinity looked entirely too smug before she leaned in to kiss her cheek. She breathed into her ear.

“It’s never happened like that, so you tell me Dr. Garcia.”

Yolanda felt the heat she knew was visible on her face deepen. Maybe it was worth it to hear the other woman laugh freely. 

Having Trinity Santos supine on her bed was nothing short of a small miracle, all things considered. After the movie, (which they had not bothered to finish) they all but raced back to Yolanda’s to make quick work of each other’s clothes. 

Even though their combined lack of patience was palpable, she was determined to slow them down so they could take their time. They could afford to savor this. Garcia started (after pausing to admire Trinity’s body splayed out) at both her wrists, draped lazily by her head, pleased to feel the rapid pulse underneath them, and even more so at the way Trinity squirmed and tried to steady her breathing.

Yolanda kissed down her arms, kissing the dips at both elbows before pausing at her underarm. She nuzzled into the skin there, hearing Santos let out a tiny squeak above her.

She raised her head a moment.

“You don’t like it?”

“Don’t I smell gross and sweaty?”

She kept her eyes determinedly focused on the ceiling, skin turning pink again.

“You smell musky, but also like coconut. It’s amazing. But I can stop if it’s not your thing. What do you want?”

Trinity sat up and yanked on her shoulder to pull her in for a deep kiss. Yolanda let herself indulge in it until the other woman had an answer. Santos finally pulled away after licking into her mouth then biting her bottom lip. She nudged their noses together.

“I want everything. I’m yours. If you think my armpits are hot, go for it.”

Yolanda felt a shiver run through her before firmly pushing Trinity back down. She didn’t hesitate to bury her face back where she’d left off, occasionally darting a tongue out, sometimes gently biting. Each time it evoked a small moan from the woman beneath her and she couldn’t help but feel drunk with want at the pleasure she was being allowed to give.

She took her time on both sides then moved down to give her perfect breasts the same attention and worship. Every time Trinity rocked up into her, she could feel how wet she was and it took all of her self control to maintain the same pace and not rush.

She ran her mouth reverently across her navel as Santos moaned and moved one of her hands into Yolanda’s hair to continue urging her downwards. 

Once she reached between her legs, she grazed her fingers through the curls there, savoring the texture. She took her time biting at her thighs, running her nose where her hip and leg met, sighing into the skin at the softness there. She gave in to Trinity who had been canting her hips up, finally putting her mouth where it was needed. She kissed and licked at her core the way she did to Trinity’s mouth, burying further, turned on at the way her slick coated her chin. The intern above her tightened the grip in her hair, occasionally punctuating a roll of her hips with a moan of Yolanda’s name. 

She wanted to die buried between her thighs like this.

“Yolanda, I need you,” she groaned. 

Yolanda wiped at her mouth and looked up at Trinity, flushed, eyes half closed, chest rising and falling.

“I want to see you.”

Yolanda immediately went to her and they kissed frantically until they needed to come up for air again. She stared into Trinity’s dark waiting eyes, thinking about her next move.

“Do you trust me?”

She nodded dazedly, reaching for her again. Yolanda sat up instead, back against the headboard and coaxed her to sit up as well.

“Come here.”

She understood right away and gingerly climbed onto her lap. Still staring into her eyes, she took Yolanda's hand and guided it between her legs. They both let out a sigh at the contact. 

It didn’t take long for Trinity to come a second time as Yolanda thrust steadily into her, watching every expression on her face, foreheads pressed together, Santos gripping onto her shoulders for dear life. Now and then the surgeon dipped down to nip at her neck, murmuring encouragement, Santos whimpering softly when she thrust in a certain way. 

She breathed harshly into her skin, delirious at being able to feel the fluttering pulse of her throat. Yolanda gripped tightly to her hip with her free hand, relishing the way the woman in her lap met her fingers enthusiastically. 

“I’m so close,” she sighed.

Yolanda nibbled on her earlobe, breathing her in.

“Good girl.”

She moved her thumb to nudge gently at the bundle of nerves between Trinity’s legs. All at once her thighs tensed as she let out a long moan before slumping onto her, breathing hard. Yolanda worked her through the aftershocks letting her ride it out until her hips stilled. She made to remove her fingers but a hand on her wrist stopped her. Santos let out a quiet little whine.

“Not yet. Please.”

Yolanda kissed her temple, content to give her everything she needed. 

“What was all that stuff you were saying anyway?”

Trinity made no move to leave her spot on Garcia’s lap, or elaborate, only nuzzling impossibly closer. She ran her hand up and down the other woman’s spine, who shivered against her. 

“What do you mean sweetheart?”

God help her, she was becoming a term of endearment person. 

Trinity yawned, finally sitting up properly to look at her, gaze still a little hazy but serene. Her hair was an absolute mess, it was grazing her face every time she moved. Yolanda didn’t think she had ever looked so beautiful. 

“You were speaking to me in Spanish.”

Yolanda blushed. She couldn’t remember a guest in her bed ever making inquiries about anything of the type so maybe it was something new, like talking in her sleep. She gave her a small smirk.

“I didn’t realize I was, frankly.”

Santos preened before licking her lips and giving her a genuine smile. Yolanda melted at the sight.

“Maybe we can teach each other some stuff? You teach me Spanish phrases and I’ll teach you some Tagalog. Swears even.”

Yolanda laughed quietly running her thumb over her jawline. Trinity had casually mentioned a while back how she tried not to be self conscious about her profile but she worshiped all of it, her jaw, her chin, the little dimple that formed sometimes when she was expressive. She wanted nothing more than to bite into it whenever she saw her. No matter if it was an appropriate place to think it or not. 

“I’d like that.”

Trinity grinned, genuine excitement bringing her out of her fog and back into focus. She ran her hands through Yoland’s curls, scratching at the scalp with her nails, kissing her deeply. Yolanda held tight to her as if she would dissipate, maybe wake from some dream only to realize Trinity was unfortunately not in her bed. It had taken them so long to get their shit together. A surge of emotion tightened her throat and she tempered it by starting to pump her fingers in and out of her again. 

Santos immediately held fast to her wrist.

“Nope. You’re going to let me eat you out and then we’re going to talk about what the fuck we are to each other.”

Yolanda felt so stupidly nauseatingly happy she couldn’t bring herself to argue at all. 

                                                     ___________________________

Yolanda was good at being alone. Great at it, in fact. Excelled really, like any number of the other things she succeeded at.

When Trinity mentioned going home for a bit, with a dullness in her eyes she was not prepared for, she lied to herself that it would be fine.

 I’ll give you the Cliff Notes version later.

She could survive a week without seeing the intern in or out of the hospital. She figured she would do everything she did before the woman had become a fixture in her life. She would call her mom, her sisters, other family members, catch up, gossip.

She would tend to her herb garden on her small patio. Catch up on her reading, watch trash tv. Go watch Emery play softball. Catch up on sleep because there were never enough hours in the day.

Yolanda actually did very few of those things, throwing herself into her work instead, just as she feared she would, but did little to stop. All her days blurred together and her only reprieve was late in bed when she would check her phone for unread messages from Trinity. They texted every day but there was little to tell, considering she barely had a life outside the hospital at the moment and the other woman didn’t exactly seem to be enjoying her time off.

She didn’t explicitly say so, but it was all in what wasn’t said for Yolanda. She never brought up her mom, or that maybe that she missed her or that it was good to be home. Occasionally she mentioned one of her brothers, but she wasn’t given much to go on.

 So the surgeon continued with her monastic existence, counting down the days until she returned. Her offer to drive her to the airport had been rebuffed with the argument that Dennis was right there so it would be more convenient for everyone. As a result she had insisted on picking her up and could occasionally (if anyone bothered to sneak a look over her shoulder) be found looking at the flight information she’d been sent, which was redundant at that point since she had memorized it already. 

At last the day arrived and she tried to ignore her nerves. She had several hours before she needed to leave for the airport so she took her time having breakfast and tidying up. She even snuck a run in followed by a lengthy shower.

Just as she was finishing up getting dressed there was a knock on her door. She frowned, not expecting anyone and already annoyed that whoever it was would set her behind schedule, she hated being late. 

She yanked the door open, any words dying in her throat when she saw Trinity Santos standing on her welcome mat. She checked her watch, frown deepening.

“Did I fuck up your flight information? I was leaving here in a bit.”

Trinity let out a laugh of disbelief.

“Hi, Santos, gosh you are a sight for sore eyes, why don’t you come in?”

“I don’t talk like that.”

“Fuck’s sake woman, can I come in?”

That seemed to help Yolanda pivot finally. She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head to recalibrate. 

She picked up the other woman’s duffle bag and with her other hand pulled her in. Using Trinity’s body to close the door, she locked it behind her, before properly molding their bodies together and diving in for a kiss. 

The intern melted beneath her, letting out a little sigh and turning her head to deepen the kiss. Yolanda’s hands roamed all over, unable to stay still now that she had her in front of her. No daydream, no night time fantasy to get herself off, could compare to having the real thing in her arms.

She slowed them down to light pecks before pulling back. Trinity stared back with dark eyes and she almost dove back in again. Instead she nudged their noses together.

“What happened?”

“Whitaker picked me up, I wanted to surprise you so I gave you the wrong flight information. I asked him to bring me straight here.”

Yolanda could only respond by caressing her cheeks with the pads of her thumbs in a circular motion. She just wanted to bask in this for a bit.

“You missed me, huh?”

Trinity was obviously trying to make a joke which backfired because her smile faltered and she looked away, blushing. Yolanda felt so much when it came to the intern, certainly things she had never experienced with other women, it continued to catch her off guard. It made her feel unbalanced, but it wasn’t as unwelcome as she thought it would be. They were learning to traverse the vulnerability parts together and talking about things, instead of burying it or brushing it off as nothing.

All thoughts about teasing her fled at the exposure, whether it had been intentional or not. 

She pulled her in further by the waist.

“Baby, I've never missed anything or anyone more in my entire life.”

She murmured it into her ear and then kissed her neck. Trinity simply wrapped her arms around her neck and clung to her. 

They made it as far as the couch and a couple of orgasms later Trinity sighed deeply, still half dressed, sweaty and boneless but burrowing comfortably into Yolanda beneath her. 

“God it’s good to be back home.”

Realistically she knew Santos meant the state and not specifically her apartment but it still pleased her to hear. 

“Was it completely miserable?”

She paused a moment.

“I liked catching up with my brothers. Everything else was kind of mediocre.”

Yolanda ran her hand soothingly up and down her bare arm.

“You can talk about it. Only if you want obviously.”

On instinct she braced herself for Trinity to make a joke or dismiss the subject entirely. Instead she sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling her knees up. Yolanda followed suit, rearranging her limbs in a more comfortable position and waited.

She opened her mouth to say something then shut it again. It took a few tries before anything came out.

“I want to tell you things. I do. It’s just hard because I never talk about them. With anyone. Can we take it one day at a time?”

She dared to peek up at her then away and Yolanda reached for her hands. She held one up to her lips and kissed the knuckles.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m not going anywhere, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

In the meantime she had a hearty homemade meal waiting for them which Santos scarfed down gratefully. She tried to help with the clean up but Yolanda shooed her away so she could shower and change into non-plane clothes. When she came back out in one of her own shorts out of her newly designated drawer and one of Garcia’s sweatshirts, she made a beeline towards her on the couch. 

The surgeon had left out a non-descript box on the table, waiting for the other woman to notice it and ask questions. But Trinity was entirely too cozy and sluggish, busy sneaking her hand lazily under Yolanda’s shirt. 

She stretched up to press lingering kisses to Yolanda’s neck. The surgeon couldn’t help her throaty laugh.

“Again?”

Trinity didn’t pause for a moment in her ministrations, taking it further and moving a hand to the inside of her thigh. Yolanda was finding it difficult to stay on track. She needed to reroute the conversation but found herself slipping her fingers into her girlfriend’s hair and tugging lightly. Trinity responded with a brief bite before continuing to kiss, venturing south. 

“Yeah, again. I didn’t see you for a week. And before that you totally blue balled me for at least a couple of months.”

“You’re so romantic, Dr. Santos.”

“I know it.”

Yolanda lay back, heart pounding, ready to go another round until her eyes fluttered open when Trinity flung her top off and maneuvered onto the carpet. That’s when she spotted the box out of the corner of her eye. With great effort she sat up straight and held the other woman’s hands on her hips still.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what that box on the coffee table is?”

She was embarrassingly out of breath but it was hard to care when Trinity looked so flush and beautiful on her knees. She eyed it suspiciously.

“That better not be a fucking ring, Yolanda Garcia.”

“You wish, you jerk. Open it.”

She didn’t need to be old twice as she scrambled for it, probably more to make sure Yolanda wasn’t trying to marry her already. As if she would be so reckless before consulting her loved ones first. They’d crucify her. 

“This is a key to,” she trailed off, waiting for her to fill in the gaps. Yolanda rolled her eyes.

“Your storage unit?”

Silence.

“Your locker at work? No? Let’s see.”

She rearranged herself so that she was sitting crossed legged on the floor, weighing it in the palm of her hand as if that was going to help her figure it out.

“A lock box at the bank? A safe you keep in some hidden place in this apartment?”

She continued to stare at her impassively.

“I know, it’s the key to your heart.”

At that she couldn’t hold it together any longer and started laughing at her own joke and Garcia was even less amused.

“I’m just fucking with you. I know it’s a key to your place.”

She was progressing towards annoyed but remained aloof.

“You know what, maybe I'll rescind the offer.”

She made to reach for the box but it was held out of her reach. Trinity immediately stopped laughing, looking serious before hiding it in her cleavage. She crawled back onto the couch and onto Yolanda’s lap, pouting exaggeratedly, wrapping her arms around her neck. 

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

She was only in a lacy bralette and impossibly short shorts so Garcia couldn’t really focus on anything other than that anymore. She tilted her chin up.

“You better.”

Trinity kissed her with renewed vigor, it felt like a thank you. When she pulled back, she kept their foreheads together. She searched Yolanda’s eyes, her own clouded with worry. 

“You’re sure?”

“Well you’re the first person to ever get a key so I’m pretty sure yeah,” she teased. 

She held her face in her hands and pulled Santos in for another kiss.

“I want you to feel at home, even when I'm not here.”

“You’ll get sick of me.”

She said this almost defiantly, challenging her. Trinity would most certainly continue to do so in their relationship but thinking about it only brought an odd sense of reassurance. She welcomed the potential bickering, fighting, whatever; challenging each other every day. As long as they still came back together at the end of it. She wanted to laugh but out of context she knew it would only hurt Santos at the moment.

“Doubt it.”

Trinity leaned her forehead on Yolanda’s shoulder.

“God, I want to believe you.”

She made soothing circles on her lower back and shrugged.

“Look, if you start getting sick of me or vice versa, we can talk about space. But I don’t think that’s going to happen. Give me the opportunity to show you.”

Trinity chanced a glance up at her.

“I can do that.”

She spilled off of Yolanda's lap and hands behind her back, started retreating backwards down the hall. 

“Where are you going?”

The surgeon knew exactly where she was going but wanted to hear her say it anyway. She bit her lip, beckoning her with those deep green eyes.

“We are making up for lost time but also celebrating.”

Every part of her yearned to have Trinity again. To have her clutching at her, panting in her ear about what she needed. Since she’d allowed herself to embrace it was always there, a slow simmer when the other woman wasn’t there, ardent and almost painful when she was. Yolanda was still working on the whole demonstrative thing, at least in the bedroom she could let go a little more easily and lay bare how she felt for Trinity.

“I want you on your hands and knees when I get in there.”

The intern reddened, eyes wide, down to her chest but nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Yolanda thought about all the days and nights they had ahead of them. She smiled.

“Good girl.”