#because it really does need a full series of increasingly absurd attempts at information gathering to truly shine

[astronomical-light]

A prompt, if it pleases the court: Ellis finding out that Abbot is queer and immediately being nosy about his personal life

Jack Abbot might be an enigma to everyone else, but all it takes is one night where he leans over a little too far while moving a patient, the collar of his undershirt getting pulled out of place and revealing a rather conspicuous bite mark on the back of his neck, for Parker to have him all figured out. The placement wasn’t the giveaway; Parker knows beard burn when she sees it, and Jack was rubbed raw, causing a fully-formed hypothesis to spring forth in Parker’s mind with a desperate, unceasing need to prove it.

“So,” Parker starts, casually leaning on the counter of the nurse’s station when she finds Jack caught in the picture of concentration, fingers flying across the keyboard and eyes focused on the computer screen as he catches up on his backlog of charting. “Any fun plans for the weekend?” she asks, knowing she can’t let on exactly what she’s trying to get after—her best chance at bleeding solid information out of him is for Jack to slip up, to reveal more than he bargained for while he’s distracted, and Parker is going to use all the circumstances at her disposal to her advantage.

Jack’s eyes slide to the side to look at her without moving his head an inch—which, freaky—and his mouth curves up mysteriously; he never once breaks the rhythm of his typing when he says, “Oh, yeah,” emphasizing the oh in a way that has Parker’s nose scrunching, “I’ve got big plans—real big plans, if you’re picking up what I’m putting down," he tells her, flashing a grin that seems almost knowing, and Parker flattens her lips together in a bland smile, nodding enthusiastically like she does know what he means, all while mentally going back to the drawing board and reconsidering what the best play is for her next plan of attack.