#ethan ramsey

[jamespotterthefirst]

Photo Dump | Vol. 1

Do you have a million pictures of your MC/ OCs saved up? Do you spend hours upon hours searching the internet for those perfect pictures all while lamenting the fact that you probably won't end up using them for anything? Well, now you can! You can dump them in a reblog here! Every week, we will dump random pictures of our characters just for the sake of telling the world (or the twenty people left in the fandom) all about your baby. You can dump the pictures and go OR you can add HCs/comments about each picture (OR a third secret thing). The rules are: 1) Have fun. 2) Be kind to each other. 3) Maybe consider supporting/hyping others who share their pics?

Let's begin! This week, reblog with 6 pictures you saved of your MC/ OC!

[liaromancewriter]

Daddy’s Girl

Premise: A poignant moment between father and daughter after the poison attack.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Robert Valentine (OC) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff. Words: 1,510

A/N: Submission for @choicesjanuary2024 day 16 prompt "relationships". I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 69, prompt 3

Robert Valentine had a plan. He’d graduate from college, sail around the world and then settle down to live out the Valentine legacy of working in the family business. His father also had a plan, and it featured only two of the three items on his list.

Unable to say no to the strict man who’d raised him, Robert gave up his dream of feeling the wind in his hair on the open seas. A chance encounter in Greenwich during summer break from Wharton further altered his plans.

A year later, he was married to a woman who not only shared his love of adventure but actively encouraged his carefree side. Becoming parents hadn’t been part of the plan, at least not so soon after getting married. But fate had other ideas.

As they stared down at the two tiny humans behind the glass of the nursery at Newport Hospital, he gently hooked one arm around Olivia’s waist. The boy was restless while the girl was asleep, their hands lightly touching.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Olivia murmured, still tired, her head resting on his shoulder.

Even though they’d known Olivia was carrying multiples, seeing them was a different reality. On top of that, the twins had arrived a month early. They still hadn’t landed on names or completed the nursery in the townhouse they’d bought near his work.

“We should come up with appropriate names,” he said quietly after a while. “Can’t keep calling them Thing One and Thing Two.”

“Imagine the shock on our parents’ faces if we put that on their birth certificates,” Olivia teased, her eyes swimming with laughter.

Robert chuckled, folding his wife in his arms. Being a father would change him; it was inevitable. But he didn’t have to give up his dreams, just adjust them for two more.

Now, all these years later, Robert watched his daughter’s even breathing as she lay sleeping on the hospital bed and wished he could turn back time to when she was a baby, tucked safe and sound in his arms.

The last two days had been harrowing and emotional. The panicked call from his son in the middle of the night, the long flight to Boston from Paris, the uncertainty about Cassie’s condition, and the anger when he and Olivia were denied entrance into the hospital.

But that was all over now, he sighed in relief. His daughter was no longer on death’s door. It would take time, but he’d been assured she would recover. If he thought Cassie wouldn’t be pissed at him for doubting her precious Dr. Ramsey, Robert would’ve whisked her off to the best specialists in the world for a second opinion.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Cassie’s eyelids fluttering as she slowly awoke. But he heard her whimpers and the sound of sheets rustling. He was out of the chair and by her bedside seconds before her eyes drifted open.

“Hey, kiddo,” Robert smiled softly, taking her hand.

“Daddy?” Cassie said in a confused tone, her voice reed thin and somewhat raspy.

She struggled to sit up, and he placed a steadying hand on her back while pressing a control button on the guardrail to raise the bed’s head. He adjusted the pillow to support her neck and poured a glass of water when she started coughing.

“Better?”

When she nodded, Robert set the glass down on the table. He turned away to drag the visitor’s chair closer to the bed and sat down, covering her hand with his palm. They smiled at each other, matching green eyes.

“You haven’t called me kiddo since I was ten,” she commented, smiling despite the sudden discomfort under her sternum.

The machines she was hooked up to briefly beeped before settling down as the pain subsided. Robert stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Old habits,” he said, taking his eyes off the flashing numbers on the monitor. “You haven’t called me Daddy since you and Max decided that word was for babies.”

“Well, I feel weak as a baby right now, so that could be the reason,” she joked, and then tears filled her eyes, dripping down her cheeks. “I was so scared I’d never see you or Mom again. ”

Robert leaned in and wiped the tears away with his fingers, shushing her the way he used to when she was five and had a nightmare.

“When I was in that room, all I could think of was the last time you took us sailing,” she continued in a watery voice. “It was just before I moved to Boston. The fresh ocean breeze tossing my hair, the taste of salt on our lips as water crashed around us. Max cursing as the unruly waves rocked the boat and almost tipped us over. Your laughter booming in the wind. That feeling of truly being alive.”

Leaving the chair, he sat on the side of the bed and folded her into his arms, mindful of the drip lines and wires.

“You are alive, Cassie honey,” he whispered over and over as sobs wracked her body, and she burrowed her face into his chest. “You’re here, safe in my arms.”

Eventually, the storm passed, and he returned to his seat. The comforting silence stretched, broken only by the beeps and hums of the machines.

“Where’s Mom?”

“At the hotel, hopefully getting some rest,” Robert explained. “She barely slept these last couple of days. Max, too. Your brother pretends to be invincible, but he was running on fumes by the time we got here.”

“Maybe if he drank coffee every now and then,” Cassie said with a wry twist of her lips.

Robert shook his head in amusement and chuckled, well familiar with his children’s opposing views on this matter and their needling of each other as a result.

“Have you seen Ethan?”

“Yes, he dropped by an hour ago to check on you,” Robert replied, hiding his disquiet at how Cassie’s eyes locked on the closed door, waiting for the other man to walk in.

He steepled his index fingers under his chin as he sprawled on the chair, stretching his legs out under the bed. “I take it you’re both still hiding your relationship?”

Robert was glad Cassie at least had the good sense to look abashed. He wasn’t happy with the turn of events, but his wife was convinced it was the real deal and they should give the couple space to work it out. Olivia’s instincts were flawless, which was the only reason he exercised restraint.

“What do you think of him?” she asked, her eyes beseeching him to understand. “You didn’t say anything during or after the weekend in Newport. I really want you to like him, Daddy.”

“He’s certainly different from Jackson or anyone else you’ve dated before,” he said neutrally. “Older, reserved, and perhaps a little austere for my carefree daughter.”

“That’s just the side he shows everyone else,” Cassie said, her voice full of conviction. “He’s different when it’s just the two of us. Granted, our relationship is still evolving, but he cares for me, deeply.”

“I know, Cassie,” Robert said, remembering the tender look in the other man’s eyes earlier. “This isn’t up for debate. But as your father, I’m allowed to be concerned. Gossip from a workplace romance is rarely kind to the woman, especially when there’s a power imbalance.”

He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “You still have two years left in your training here. All I ask is that you be careful and protect your reputation if not your heart.”

Before Cassie could respond, there was a perfunctory knock on the door, and then it swung open. Ethan Ramsey crossed the threshold and suddenly stopped, causing the nurse accompanying him to crash into his back, the tray in her hand rattling before she steadied it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ethan said, his brows furrowing as if sensing he’d stepped into a quagmire. “We need to draw Dr. Valentine’s blood, check her vitals and run a few tests.”

“Yes, of course,” he said, pushing the chair back and standing up. “I’ll let you get on with it while I grab a coffee and check in on Olivia.”

Robert turned to smile down at Cassie. “Why don’t I get you something to eat?”

“Well, I am feeling a bit peckish,” Cassie mused, a teasing twinkle in her eyes. “Hospital food sucks.”

“I’ll ask the chef at the hotel to whip up your favorites.” Robert leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Be good, and no more heroics.”

He nodded at Ethan, who came to stand across from him on the other side of the bed. He noted the softness in Cassie’s eyes, the concern in Ethan’s and felt like a third wheel.

As Robert left the room, he glanced at the nurse, oblivious to their situation, and hoped Cassie heeded his advice. Ethan seemed decent enough, but if he hurt Cassie…. Well, when it came to his children, all bets were off.

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

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate @zealouscanonindeer

[jerzwriter]

Pen-sive

Thank you so much for this three-word ask @thosehallowedhalls: Ethan, Kaycee, pens. You have no idea how excited I was about this... I'll tell you why at the end of the fic. ���

Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 582 Summary: Something is missing, and Kaycee is not amused. A/N: @choicesjanuary2024 Day 17 - Rest (It's a bit of a stretch, but the poor man was resting - for a bit 😊)

It had been a fairly quiet afternoon by Edenbrook standards, and Ethan was relishing the relative quiet in his office. Finally catching up on work he had put aside for a day just like today, he stopped to take a break when he felt the warm sun beaming in from the window. Sitting back in his chair, he closed his eyes to relish the peace and tranquility.

It was short-lived.

Kaycee came barrelling into the room with the force of a hurricane (and we're not talking about a category one). Slamming the door behind her, there was a fire in her eyes as she marched up to Ethan’s desk. He let out a breath; the break was nice, while it lasted.

“Yes,” he said with his best manufactured smile.

“What is this,” Kaycee spat, tossing an object that clearly offended her onto Ethan’s desk.

He picked it up and examined it as meticulously as if it were a newly admitted patient. Then, after much thought, he placed it down before him.

“It’s a pen, my dear. A Bic pen, if we’re being exact. Classic style in clear plastic barrel casing. It appears to be a ballpoint with the blue cap still intact. Is that a sufficient explanation? Or do you require more?”

Kaycee plopped into the chair with a weary sigh, rubbing her temples to release the tension.

“And, my love, what is my opinion on this variety of pens?”

“You find them to be vile and an affront to humanity. You lie awake at night, baffled over why Congress has not taken adequate steps to rid society of each and every one.”

Her lips curled upward, and that dimple Ethan loved so much appeared. She wanted to maintain the level of exaggerated fury she had burst in with, but as usual, he wore her down.

“You are insane,” she chuckled.

“I’m insane? I'm insane? Should I bring in an impartial third party to determine who the insane one is?”

“Where is my pen!” She demanded. “I was sitting with you this morning, and I had it... my baby! My beautiful Uniball Jetstream retractable pen. You know, the one that glides across the page like silk, leaving a nice bold line without one single smudge or skip. WHERE is it Ethan, and don’t lie to me... I have my ways of finding these things out.”

Ethan smiled and shook his head. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out Kaycee’s treasured writing implement and handed it to her across his desk.

“In fairness, YOU grabbed the wrong pen when you left the office this morning.  I had nothing to do with this.  I didn’t even use it, just had it in my pocket for safe keeping... I know better.”

“I was still not caffeinated!" She said defensively. "I'll cut you a little slack, but did you page me 911 telling me to get back to your office and get it right away? No.  So I still hold you accountable for making me use that... that vile excuse of a pen all morning.”

Ethan took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “How can I make it up to you, dear?”

“Take me to lunch?”

He smiled and stood up from his chair, tossing his car keys in his pocket as he did. 

“Let’s go, and perhaps we can swing by Staples on the way back.”

“Staples? Why?”

“To get you a new box of those Uniball pens.  I can’t take this kind of stress at work.”

Beaming, she reached over and kissed him on the cheek.  “You know, you’re the best boyfriend ever!”

“Yep!” He nodded. “I certainly am.”

A/N2: OK, so you don't know this, but I am OBSESSED with pens. I am an utter pen snob, and it's not healthy. To make it worse, my boss's boss is the same way. We keep the cheap, shitty pens on our desks and "our pens" locked away so no one can get to them. If someone inadvertently takes one, we have been known to spend the morning hunting the offender down and making them pay. So the JOY this prompt brought me... you have NO idea. And now you have a peek into my variety of mental illness. lol Thank you!

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[potionsprefect]

Adjusting

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Victoria is back at work, and not everything is the same

Rating: Teen

Category: Angst, Fluff

Victoria sat down in the cafeteria, a whole pizza in front of her. Today was her first day back at work since the Senator attack. She knew she would have to come back eventually but it didn’t seem real that she was finally back, sat in her white coat, helping those who desperately needed it.

She was desperately avoiding the corridor where her room was. She knew all she would see would be herself in that room, terrified of whether she was going to die. The team had a patient in there but Victoria hadn’t met them yet.

Slowly, Victoria ate her lunch. She had opted to go early to avoid the queues but she really avoiding doing as much work with the patient as possible. Instead, she stayed in the teams room, helping devise a treatment plan. It was unlike Victoria to hide away and she knew she was being unprofessional.

A figure sat down in front of her, a handsome but concerned look on his face. “You’re in here early.” Ethan said.

“I wanted to beat the lunchtime queue.” Victoria shrugged.

“So it’s nothing to do with you wanting to avoid the patients room?” Ethan folded his arms, an eyebrow raised.

Victoria sighed. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yes. And I don’t need to tell you that it is also unprofessional. But we’re letting you figure it out on your own. You know you can’t avoid that room forever.” Ethan said.

“I know I just… I can’t go back in there. All I see is myself, struggling to fight for life.”

“Maybe you’ve come back too soon.”

Victoria sighed. “It’s not down to me. Blame the system.”

“You know to take it one step at a time. But I’m saying this as your boss and not as your boyfriend. I would like to see you visit at least once before the end of your shift. And I’m saying this as your boyfriend. I’ll come with you if you want.” Ethan reached across the table and took Victorias hand in his.

“I think this is something I need to do myself. But thank you for the offer.” Victoria smiled. “I will probably come back to the office as quickly as possible.”

“Then I’ll be in the office waiting for you with a hug.” Ethan smiled.

Victoria ate the rest of her pizza, quiet in the presence of Ethan. She knew this would be one of the biggest parts of her recovery to date and the longer she put it off, the harder it would be further down the line.

Today would be the day she faced it. The day she proved to herself how strong she really is.

Victoria took several deep breaths as the elevator doors opened. She was thankful that she was in the lift alone for which she could deal with her emotions by herself and not have to embarrass herself in front of anyone else.

The only sound that could be heard was Victoria’s shoes as she walked slowly down the empty corridor. Victoria loved it like this, an empty corridor where she could consider her thoughts was always better than a crowded one.

She cast her mind back to that day, all she could see from her room was the frantic faces of her colleagues who were rushing about trying desperately to find a cure.

We’re running out of time. What if they don’t make it?

The voices were loud and frantic, panic evident in their voices. Victoria wanted desperately to smash her way through the glass and break free.

Victoria approached the window and saw the patient gazing out the window. Victoria smiled softly at the patient. It seemed surreal to think of the horrors this room saw not that long ago.

With a gentle push, Victoria opened the room door. “Mrs Winston? I’m Doctor Clarke. How are you feeling?”

“Oh much better thank you. I don’t believe we’ve met. Are you one of the doctors working alongside the team?” Mrs Winston smiled.

“I am. I’ve been helping draw up some treatment plans for you. I apologise for not coming to visit you sooner.” Victoria replied.

“I understand dear. I remember reading on the news about the awful events that happened here. I’m glad you’re alive.” She smiled.

“Thank you. And I have no doubt that the team and I will help find out what’s wrong with you soon.” Victoria smiled.

After a while, Victoria left the room, heading back to the diagnostics teams office. She felt lighter on her feet, happier even. She had done it and now it was over, she could look forward even further.

Victoria reached the office and opened the door. Ethan was sat at his desk, paperwork in front of him.

“How did it go?” Ethan stood up and walked over to Victoria.

“Better than I hoped. It wasn’t easy but it’s done now.” Victoria said.

Ethan took her face in his hands. “I am so proud of you. He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Victoria pulled away after a few seconds, resting her forehead against his, eyes closed. “This isn’t easy.”

“It was never going to be. Recovery is slow and sometimes painful.” Ethan pulled her to his chest, running a gentle hand through Victoria’s hair.

“I just don’t like living in uncertainty. I want to know what’s happening and I want to know when. But I know that can’t happen and I should just accept whatever comes my way.” Victoria said.

“You don’t need to rush anything further. It can all go at your own pace.” Ethan smiled.

“What if I’m like this for a long time? What if you don’t want to put up with that?” Victoria asked.

“I will endure anything for you. And I don’t care how long it takes. Your health is number one priority and no matter how long your recovery is, I will be by your side throughout.”

“You’re a really good man you know that?”

Ethan laughed. “So I’ve been told. By all the right people.”

Victoria always knew that coming back to work was never going to be easy. But she knew that as long as she has the right people by her side, she could face anything.

And she had exactly that with Ethan. Her fiercest and most loyal protector.

I made it sad and then I made it happy lol

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[cariantha]

Talk is Cheap (2/2)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Warning: Mentions of pregnancy Category: AU; Angst (with a happy ending) Word count: 2.7K Prompt: What would have been the outcome if Sawyer had discovered that she was pregnant whilst Ethan was in the Amazon? A/N: The theme song for this fic is “Go Get Her” by Restless Road.

Part One

It took Sawyer two days and ten chewed up fingernails to work up the courage to call. And it took three unanswered calls to realize that her heart wasn’t done breaking. 

“Ethan, it’s Sawyer. Please call me as soon as you get this message. I really need to talk to you.”

Ethan listened to the message several times. There were only two possible reasons for her call: something was wrong, or she wanted to talk about them. The only clue he had, her shaky and hesitant voice, was not enough to go on. Worried that weeks of strategic silence and self-inflicted loneliness would be for nothing, he determined that the safest course of action was to call his mentor. Speaking to Naveen would rule out several of the “something wrong” scenarios that were racing through his anxious mind. 

Ring, ring. “Hello, Ethan. It has been a while,” Naveen answered. The two hadn’t spoken since the video call that ended with Sawyer darting away from his office in tears.

“Naveen. How are you? How have you been feeling?”

“I’m fine, son.” 

“Did you have your check-up with Baz this month?”

“I did. My labs were normal.”

“Good… that’s good… uh, how’s the team?”

“They are managing quite well, and June is taking full advantage of her time at the helm,” Naveen chuckled.

“I don’t doubt it. And the interns? Have they killed anyone while I’ve been away?”

“The interns?” Ethan’s attempt at small talk was already suspicious, but asking about the interns was a dead giveaway. “Or one in particular?” Naveen pressed. 

Giving up his pretense, Ethan confessed, “She left me a vague message. I was concerned that something had happened. That one of you might be sick or hurt.”

“I think it’s safe to say she’s hurt, Ethan,” Naveen challenged. 

“You know that’s not what I meant. Is she okay? Has there been any more backlash from the trial? Has Nash been harassing her?”

An exasperated Naveen sighed, “I don’t know the reason for her call, Ethan. And even if I did, I would tell you to speak with her yourself. Tell me, how are you planning to work together if you’re not on speaking terms?”

“Our relationship will return to that of a strictly professional one. Working together on your case, sharing that secret… the lines got blurred and I let things go too far. It was the result of heightened stress and frequent exposure to-”

“Bullshit,” Naveen interjected.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. We both know if that’s all it was, you wouldn’t have bothered to call me. You wouldn’t care this much. Now, swallow your pride like that over-priced whiskey you drink and call her.”

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

The following day, Sawyer stood outside of Naveen’s office. “Hi Danielle, any chance the chief has some free time in the next day or two?”

“Let me check his schedule, Dr. Brooks,” the assistant answered, clicking her computer mouse.

“Sawyer? Is that you out there?” Naveen called from inside his office. “Come on in.”

Sawyer offered a thankful smile to Danielle and then stepped into Naveen’s office, closing the door behind her. “Thanks for giving me a few minutes.”

“I can always spare a few for my grand-mentee.” He gestured to one of the seats in front of his desk. “What’s on your mind, dear?”

Sawyer took a grounding breath, then proceeded. “A lot actually. I, uh…” She paused, nervously biting her bottom lip. Then as if ripping off a Band-Aid, she came right out with it. “What is the policy for taking a leave of absence? And if I did, how would that impact my fellowship?”

Naveen pursed his lips, mentally diagnosing the situation. “Well, that depends on the type of leave being requested.”

Sawyer hung her head for a moment, and when she looked up, her eyes were glassy. “Maternity leave.” 

He followed her eyes when they shifted to a picture displayed on the hutch behind him, confirming his suspicion. Naveen hoped that Ethan had taken his advice last night. With a sympathetic air, he leaned forward and folded his hands. "Does he know?"

She shook her head and bit her lips, trying to prevent the spill of tears. “He hasn’t returned my calls," she finally managed.

“I’m so sorry, dear. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?”

Sawyer reached for a tissue. “I just need to know what my options are.”

He nodded.

“And if it comes to it… the process for transferring my residency.”

He couldn’t help the frown on his face. “Of course.” A short while later, with a hug and another offer of support, Naveen said goodbye to Sawyer. 

"Danielle, would you mind letting Dr. Cyrus know that I am running a few minutes behind?" Closing his door for privacy, he retrieved his phone from the pocket of his white lab coat.

Later that night, in his tiny studio apartment in Atalaya, Peru, Ethan sat on the edge of the bed and scrolled through his phone contacts. He stared at Sawyer’s profile picture for a long while, gathering the strength to stay firm in his resolve, while also preparing for the worst. If she was sick, he would call in every favor he was owed. If she was moving on with someone new, he would hate it, but wouldn’t interfere with her happiness. If she was quitting… leaving… he would break. 

With his thumb hovering over the call button, he was startled when the phone pinged. Tapping on the notification, he read the incoming lines of text and quickly realized that he had not anticipated this scenario.

In her bedroom in her Boston apartment, Sawyer paced back and forth. The word “Read” appeared after the last line of her text message and she anxiously chewed on her thumbnail waiting for any kind of response. Preferably a call, but she would settle for three bouncing dots and a few lines of text. A half hour later, accepting the silence as his response, she powered off her phone and tossed it aside. Curling up in her bed, she cried herself to sleep.

In those same thirty minutes, Ethan stared at the sonogram picture and choked back tears. His knee bounced up and down nervously, carefully considering what to say and do to make things right. When he finally pushed the green call button, he immediately heard her voice on the other end of the line. “Hi there, you’ve reached Sawyer. Leave me a message.” He redialed several more times, but each time it went straight to voicemail. “Dammit!”

Ethan stood and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. He spun around taking in his humble surroundings, considering his current obligations. “To hell with it.” After calling for a ride, he tossed his phone on the bed and began shoving his belongings into his open suitcase.

An hour later, from the backseat of a taxi, Ethan made another call. “Dr. Stehl, it’s Ethan Ramsey. I’m sorry to do this, but something has come up back home in Boston. A family emergency. I’m on my way to the airport now…”

After twenty-four hours of cramped bus rides and connecting flights, and a quick stop at home to freshen up, Ethan stood outside of Sawyer’s apartment door. Taking a deep, calming breath first, he knocked.

Elijah greeted him a half minute later. “Dr. Ramsey? I didn’t know you were back.”

“Yes, just. Is Sawyer here?”

Elijah moved backward and gestured for him to enter, assuming that Sawyer was already expecting him. It wouldn’t have been the first time she entertained Dr. Ramsey in their apartment, after all. It would also explain why she passed on going to Donahue’s with the other roommates for “Ladies Night” half-priced drinks. “She’s in her room. You remember which one, right?”

Ethan nodded. “Thank you.”

“By the way, I like the beard,” Elijah remarked, closing the door. “Maybe I should try to grow one so my patients won’t think I’m fifteen anymore.” 

“Hmph,” Ethan huffed in amusement as he moved deeper into the quiet apartment. 

He inhaled and exhaled slowly before gently knocking on the last door at the end of the hall, the door to Sawyer’s room. Though light emanated from underneath the door, there was no answer. He knocked again, and when she still didn’t answer, he carefully turned the doorknob and peeked inside. 

Sawyer was fast asleep, hugging a pillow close to her body.

Quietly shutting the door behind him, he softly padded to the side of her bed and carefully sat on the edge. Her laptop lay open behind her. On the screen, an application for residency at the Mayo Clinic in Arizona, which made Ethan’s stomach sink.

Odds were she hated him at this point. Despite the risk, he reached out to touch her. Tenderly skimming his fingers along her hairline, he brushed a few loose strands out of the way. “Sawyer,” he quietly said her name. When he repeated it, she finally began to stir and then opened her eyes.

Shocked, she bolted upright and backed away, nearly knocking her laptop to the floor. “W-what are you doing here?” she asked, trying to get her bearings. 

“I came to talk. To apologize. To try to make things right.”

“Ethan, I–”

Sensing her distrust, “Please, give me a chance,” he implored. “I know I don’t deserve it, but will you please hear me out?” When she didn’t protest, he continued.

“I have been so selfish, Sawyer. When Naveen appointed you to the diagnostics team, I feared a scandal if people discovered we were together, especially with the ethics trial still fresh in people’s minds. I could never, in good conscience, put you in a position like that. You worked so hard and earned this fellowship. It’s a rare opportunity that I don’t want to get in the way of.” His eyes begged for understanding. “Please believe me when I say this… I want to be with you. So much so that I considered stepping down as team leader. Hell, I even considered resigning from the team altogether.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “As much as I care for you, Sawyer, I couldn’t give it up. I have spent my entire career preparing to one day fill Naveen’s shoes. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, until you. But everything between us happened so fast. It was still so new-”

“Ethan, I would never expect you to make that kind of sacrifice. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you did,” Sawyer firmly cut in.

“I know, Rookie, and that’s why I told myself the only way forward was as colleagues, and nothing more.” He made a point of looking her in the eye. “But the problem is we’ve never just been colleagues, have we. There’s always been something more between us. I took advantage of the distance, hoping that if we cut ties for a while, the connection would fade and make it easier to leave what we had in the past.” 

Sawyer shook her head in frustration. 

“You don’t have to say it. I can probably guess what you’re thinking,” Ethan acknowledged.

“That you’re an idiot?” she quipped.

“Yes, and you’d be right to think so. I had convinced myself it was a solid plan. As long as we still worked together, I would still get to see and talk to my best friend without the constant worry of holding you back or jeopardizing your career.” Sawyer followed when he tipped his head to the laptop screen behind her. “Knowing how badly you wanted to be at Edenbrook, and how hard you fought for the fellowship, I hadn’t considered the possibility that you would leave. When you said you might move back to Arizona, I realized my plan backfired.” 

Ethan gave her a moment to process.

“Why didn’t you call or write me back after I told you about the baby?” she demanded an answer.

"I know this will be hard to believe, but I swear I was just about to call you when I got your text. You can blame me for a lot, but you can’t blame me for the sudden shock of learning that I was going to be a father. It took me a while to catch my breath and find my words. When I finally got my shit together, I tried calling. Several times. But I kept getting your voicemail.” Ethan absent-mindedly stretched his hand toward her. “Sawyer, we both know words without action are meaningless. You mean so much to me and-”

“You have a real shitty way of showing it,” she interjected.

"And I'm here now because I want to change that. You deserve better than a phone call, and certainly more than a text message. You, Rookie, have the unnerving ability to read me like an open book. I want you to be able to look into my eyes and see the truth in my words when I tell you how I feel."

Protectively clutching her pillow to her chest, she braced herself. “And how do you feel?”

“About you?” he paused, his eyes darting between hers. “I am hopelessly in love with you, Sawyer Brooks.” 

She swallowed, nervously anticipating his next words. 

“How do I feel about this baby?” He sighed softly. “I’ll be honest, I never pictured myself settling down or having a family. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours on buses and planes alone with my thoughts, and they were consumed with the idea of becoming a father. For the first time in my life, Sawyer, I could picture it… a family of my own... but only because you were with me in that dream. And I’m worried that I’ve fucked it all up.”

Overcome with emotion, Sawyer hid her face with her hands and sobbed.

“Sawyer?” 

“Arrrrrgh,” she growled into her hands before lowering them. “I’m still furious with you… I’m not sure where we go from here… how to trust that you won’t walk away again.” She wiped her tears away. “But I guess we have a lot to figure out…” she said, her voice cracking, “because despite myself, I’m still in love with you, too.”

A wave of relief washed over Ethan. There was hope, even if the space between them made it feel like they were still on different continents.       

“How are you feeling?” he asked, looking her over.

“I’ve had a little morning sickness, but mostly I'm exhausted.” She opened her mouth to say more but stopped herself. 

“What is it?” 

Her bottom lip quivered when she continued. “I’m scared to death.” 

Ethan gently removed the pillow barrier and drew her near. “Come here.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and murmured, "It will be okay."

“You’ve said that before,” she mumbled into his chest.

He pulled back to look her in the eyes. “I’m sorry for letting you down before. I know that it will take time to earn back your trust. But I promise you, Sawyer, I’m here for you… for both of you. You can count on me,” he assured, his fingers twining with hers. “I will be the man... the partner… that you need me to be.”

They held onto each other in comforting silence for several minutes.

“I missed you, Asshole,” she whispered, then lifted her head to really look at him. 

Ethan smiled. “I missed you, too, Rookie. Every minute of every day that I was away.”

Sawyer ran her hand over his scruffy beard, then over the soft leather of his jacket. “We’ve got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey,” she assessed.

“This jacket’s been through a lot with me.” 

“It suits you.”

Scratching his cheek, “And the beard?”

She studied him for a moment, then with the playful smile that he had missed so terribly, she teased, “You look like a dad.” 

Seven months later…

Ethan stared in awe at the carefully wrapped bundle his wife held in her arms. The newborn’s tiny hand wrapped around the tip of his finger. Without letting go, he carefully nestled next to his wife on the hospital bed. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he leaned in and pressed an appreciative kiss to her temple. When he pulled back, she turned to him with a smile, soliciting another kiss but this time on her lips.  

“I love you. How are you feeling?” he asked.

Before she could respond, there was a gentle knock on the door. Two older men bearing flowers, balloons, and teddy bears quietly entered. While the silver-haired man exchanged cheek kisses with Sawyer, the dark-haired man in the sweater vest moved to the other side of the bed and placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Dad. Naveen. Let me introduce you to your grandson,” Ethan announced. “Brooks Winter Ramsey.”

[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!

[genevievemd]

It's You and Me, That's My Whole World...

November 30 - December 2, 2023

Book: Open Heart (Beyond) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure) Format: Text/Edits Rating: T Category: fluff Trope(s): and one of them uses social media

Summary: Ethan and Gen get the keys to their new vacation home on the cape and spend the weekend

Warnings: alludes to adult activities

A/N: Follow up to And Now The Storm Is Coming, But... McRam's weekend in NYC. Enjoy

Thursday, November 30th

Friday, December 1st

Saturday, December 2nd

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the update! Next time I pop up with an update will be the pregnancy reveal! Cause our baby G is currently pregnant! She still doesn't know yet... she will soon, tho. Cause she's down with "the flu" right now 😉

Tagging Separately

[peonyblossom]

HE!!!

thank you so fucking much @mydemonsdrivealimo for this absolutely beautiful commission of my Ethan and Caramel!!! in my hc Ethan is a chubby transman so thank you thank you thank you for making my vision a reality!!!!

@choicespride

also sketch below the cut bc i love it so much too

[linkysmommy]

Excited to let everyone know that I've finally finished my Open Heart Storyloom fic! It took me a while with all the different romance variants, but it's finished now. Shout out to my friends Orc and Shionch for continually getting after me to finish, and for helping me with the final romance variants when I was oh so stuck.

You can play the full story here if you're on PC, or if you're on mobile, can find it on the Storyloom app by searching "Open Heart: A Toxic Situation." I hope you enjoy this little story I've put together, and thanks to everyone who's read it ❤️

Note: There is currently a bug in the final chapter where Asian MMC is Hispanic MMC. The fix has been submitted, but it won't be live until tomorrow, most likely.

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

Do you think we'll be together in another universe?

I think I'll miss you forever (summertime sadness) Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky (summertime summertime sadness) Later's better than never (summertime summertime sadness) Even if you're gone, I'm gonna drive (drive), drive I got that summertime, summertime sadness Su-su-summertime, summertime sadness Got that summertime, summertime sadness Kiss me hard before you go Summertime sadness I just wanted you to know That baby you the best

Fanart Credits Respectively: frostkitsuneart (VK) & The_mandywalker (Instagram)

[storyofmychoices]

Holiday Cheer 🎄 ❤️ 💚

My loveliest @jerzwriter and @lilyoffandoms, I adore you both so very much! I am grateful to this fandom for bring you both into my life! You both make this fandom a better place by being your amazing selves. Love you both!!!

I hope you enjoy this holiday art of our Open Heart babies by the always lovely, @weetlebeetle!

Holiday Cheer 🎄 ❤️ 💚

Prompts: Christmas: @choicesdecember2023, @choicesficwriterscreations, @choicesholidays, @choicesflashfics (holiday prompt, in bold)

Pairing: Bryce x Olivia , Ethan x Merida (@lilyoffandoms), Tobias x Casey (@jerzwriter)

Book: Open Heart

Word Count: >700

Rating/Warnings: general

Synopsis: Olivia, Merida, and Casey decide to decorate the Diagnostic Office.

The Diagnostic Office buzzed with festive energy as Olivia, Casey, and Merida decorated Ethan's office with holiday cheer. The trio, wearing holiday sweaters and festive headbands, worked diligently, preparing a surprise for their significant others. Boxes of decorations lay scattered across the room. In the center of the space lay a jumbled mess of tangled lights. 

Casey grappled with the relentless knots in the string lights, muttering under her breath. The more of the knots she freed, the more the lights seemed to conspire, weaving her into their tangled web.

Merida offered her assistance, teasing her friend playfully. "Making friends with the lights, Casey? Or are they plotting a holiday takeover?"

"They seem a formidable foe," Olivia chimed in, giggling as she watched Casey try to unravel a particularly tangled section.

"Ugh! I feel like neurosurgery would be easier than this," Casey joked, tediously separating the stubbornly intertwined wires.

Olivia added miniature ornaments to the long strands of garlands strewn around the rooms, her eyes sparkling with joy. "I can't wait to see their faces when they walk in." She clapped her hands enthusiastically, unable to contain her excitement. 

"Finally!" Casey jumped up, pumping her hands in the air in victory. She quickly gathered the lights, placing them in Olivia's arms. "They're all yours!" 

"My pleasure!" Olivia took the lights, holding them up in front of her, deciding on their perfect placement. 

A mischievous spark flickered in Casey's eyes as she caught Merida's attention. "Let's add a little extra surprise." She produced a small sprig of mistletoe from her bag.

Merida's brow arched. "Do you and Tobias really need another reason to be all over each other?"

"Oh, it's not for me," Casey teased, winking toward Merida. "I think we can all agree that a certain diagnostician would benefit from letting loose a little bit." 

"I'm not sure he'll share your sentiment, but I'm willing to risk it. Who knows, maybe we'll see our own Christmas miracle," Merida retorted. 

With stealthy precision, they positioned the mistletoe above the office doorway, chuckling at the playful addition to the festive decor.

The two stood beneath it, making sure it was safely secured, and somewhat out of sight. 

Merida's gaze shifted between the decor and Casey. "If this doesn't get Ethan's attention, I'm sure I could find someone else to take advantage of it with?" 

Casey shrugged coyly, curious by the prospect, "And, perhaps also even if he does!"

As the three friends finished up, the room transformed into a cozy haven adorned with twinkling lights and festive cheer.

Just then, the door swung open, and Bryce, Ethan, and Tobias entered, greeted by the sight of the dazzlingly decorated office. Their eyes widened in surprise and appreciation, well, at least for two of them.

“It looks like Santa threw up in here," Ethan grumbled. 

"It's festive," Tobias quickly defended, admiring the decorations. "You gotta lighten up, Scrooge."

"I wish someone would decorate the O.R. like this," Bryce added gleefully.

"You do realize that none of this is sterile," Ethan interrupted. “So unless you plan to risk your patients lives, you do not wish someone to decorate the O.R.”

"Ignore him," Bryce wrapped his arms around Olivia, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "It's beautiful." 

Ethan sighed, rubbing the space between his brows. He was truly outnumbered. He always was, but sometimes he had Olivia on his side. Not this time. “...It can stay," he mumbled reluctantly.

"It really wasn't an option," Casey smirked. 

Ethan stepped further into his office, but his movements were halted.

"Not so fast—" Merida sauntered forward, pressing Ethan back under the doorway once more. "I believe you owe me a kiss." 

"That's a juvenile tradition," he protested.

"Are you refusing? You know that's bad luck."

"You know I don't believe in luck."

Merida shook her head; she wanted to scold him but this was who he was, and she loved him for it. Her fingers flirted with his tie a moment, before she pulled him down to her, her lips crashing against his.

Their embrace was met by whistles and howls from their friends. The pair ignored them, their lingering kiss enduring.

Casey turned to Tobias, her voice soft, "Merry Christmas." Her lips met his tenderly. 

Olivia leaned further into Bryce, letting the warmth and comfort of his embrace engulf her as she marveled at the beautiful lights and displays surrounding them. 

Their jobs weren't always easy, and sometimes things could seem bleak, but right now, surrounded by their friends and such a cheerful display, everything seemed just right.

[jamespotterthefirst]

OMG THERE IS A BARBIE PICREW MAKER

PLEASE MAKE YOUR MCS/OCS AND REBLOG THIS WITH THEM I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL 🩷

[liaromancewriter]

New Year Wishes

Premise: New Year’s Day is a special time for making wishes that come true.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,435

A/N: Submission for @choicesjanuary2024 Day 1 writing exercise prompt; for @choicesholidays New Year and @choicesficwriterscreations holiday event. I'm using @choicesflashfics week 66, prompt 1.

Part 1: The Legend

The first snowflake fell, and with it, a new tradition began. Inside the mansion by the sea, Christmas decorations hung across the mantel. The star above the tree in the corner twinkled when the weak rays of a winter sun briefly shone through the window panes.

It was the first day of a new year, and the air was full of possibilities, like magic on a moonlit night. Flames crackled in the fireplace, spreading its warmth toward the family of four sitting by the hearth.

Four-year-old Cassie Valentine rubbed her sleepy eyes as she cuddled on her mother’s lap, content with the familiar scent and feel of her mom’s arms around her. When she heard a loud yawn, she squinted at her twin brother Max, who was similarly nestled against their father’s chest.

His blond hair was messy, flopping over his forehead; his face was practically hidden in their dad’s big arms. One green eye popped open as if sensing her gaze, and he smiled sleepily at her.

The twins protested when their parents removed them from their comfortable position and onto the shaggy rug in front of the fireplace. Cassie leaned into Max’s side, curling her legs beneath her, and yawned widely. She rested her face on her brother’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

She wasn’t sure why her parents had woken them up so early or carried them down to the family room. It wasn’t Christmas morning. She knew because Santa had already brought her and Max presents last week.

“Cass honey, wake up,” Daddy said gently, lifting her head and brushing his hand down her hair. “Your mom and I have a surprise for the two of you.”

The word ‘surprise’ made Max perk up and sit straight in attention.

“Do you know what today is?” Mommy asked, her eyes crinkled around the corners as she smiled.

They shook their heads, and she continued. “It’s New Year’s Day. Legend has it that if you make a wish, write it on a piece of paper and throw it into the fire, it will come true. Isn’t that right, Robert?”

“My old nanny told me it was so.” Cassie saw her father smile in a dreamy way she didn’t quite recognize. “And she was right. When I was your age, I wished for a life full of adventure. Then, one day, many years later, your mother spilled her drink on me. I haven’t been bored since.”

“Robert!” Mommy gasped in shock before throwing her head back in laughter and then leaning in to kiss him on the lips.

Cassie giggled, and Max groaned, making gagging sounds.

“Six years of adventure, my love,” Mommy said softly, resting her head on Daddy’s forehead. “Every day, I fall in love with every little thing that you do.”

Cassie watched her parents gaze into each other’s eyes and thought there must be something to this wish legend. And if Daddy was right, she was definitely wishing for a puppy.

Part 2: The Wish

Many years later, in an elegant condo overlooking Boston’s waterfront, Ethan Ramsey propped himself up on one elbow and leaned over his wife. He ran his finger down her cheek and brushed aside a wisp of hair that fell over her face.

“Time to wake up, love,” he murmured, watching as Cassie’s eyes drifted open.

The fogginess gradually disappeared, dreams faded and reality intruded.

“What time is it?” she asked, yawning.

“Almost eight,” he said, his lips tracing the slope of her shoulder.

The strap of her nightgown slid down her arm, almost baring her breast, and he peppered kisses along her exposed collarbone.

“We don’t have time for you to seduce me,” she protested, even as a moan escaped her lips when his hands eased the bodice down to expose her breasts to his heated gaze and pushed the gown lower.

“I’ll be quick,” he said, covering her body with his and nudging her thighs apart with his knee.

Ethan snagged her bottom lip between his teeth and nipped it before slanting his lips over hers. He’d just started to kiss his way down her body when he heard the sound of running feet.

Ethan barely had time to throw the covers on top of Cassie’s naked body when the bedroom door slammed open.

“It’s Wish Day! It’s Wish Day!”

Their five-year-old twin daughters, Sophie and Eloise, rushed in, singing the words excitedly at the top of their lungs.

“Daddy, you’re not wearing a shirt!” Sophie giggled.

“Girls, what have we said about knocking?” Ethan swung his legs off the bed to sit up and glared at them over his shoulder.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Cassie wriggle under the covers and then ease her back up against the headboard, the silky straps of her nightgown back in place.

“Knock first, wait for an answer and then enter,” they parroted the oft-repeated words while gazing innocently at him.

“And did you do that now?” Cassie asked, lips twisting in a half-smile as her eyes met Ethan’s exasperated expression.

“We forgot,” they said with a pout.

They launched themselves on the bed before Ethan could scold them further and started jumping up and down.

“B’sides, it’s Wish Day, Daddy,” Eloise giggled as she crashed into her sister. “It’s tra…trad…,” she stumbled over the words, “tratidition.”

“Tradition,” Ethan corrected automatically, padding into the walk-in closet.

He thought privately that his daughters were just as stubborn about celebrating traditions as their mother.

“Mommy, get up. We’ve been waiting forever to make our New Year wishes!” Sophie’s laughter mingled with her sister’s as they both bounced higher.

“Not too high, girls,” Cassie called out worriedly. “Ethan?”

Ethan returned to the bedroom, tugging a tee shirt over his head and down. He grabbed Eloise mid-bounce and then Sophie, holding each girl under his arms as if carrying a football.

They giggled when he adjusted his stance to accommodate their weight, jostling them in the process.

Cassie shook her head at their antics and shoved aside the covers to climb off the bed. She reached for the robe folded on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, and his eyes locked on the top of her breasts framed enticingly between the vee of her gown’s neckline.

She caught his stare and arched one brow. “To be continued tonight?”

After a quick glance at their daughters, now preoccupied with whispering to each other, he smirked.

“I’ll get them settled while you freshen up. Don’t take too long or…,” Ethan grinned lasciviously, scanning her from chest to crotch, “…else.”

Almost twenty minutes later, the four of them settled in front of the fireplace. Ethan wrapped one arm around Cassie’s shoulder while hers slid around his waist. The twins were nestled between them, their tiny bodies practically vibrating with excitement.

“Ready to make your New Year wish?” Cassie asked.

Eloise looked questioningly at her sister. Sophie nodded in confirmation. They both turned around and stared at their parents. Ethan noted their thoughtful expression and wondered what that was about.

“If we both make the same wish, does it come true twice?” Eloise asked.

“We want a dog,” Sophie piped in.

Ethan grinned when Cassie muttered, “Get in line” under her breath.

He knew a puppy had been on her wish list for years. In fact, if he recalled the tale correctly, it was her first wish when Robert and Olivia started the annual New Year wishes tradition.

“Why don’t you send the wish into the fireplace? You never know when the universe will grant your wish,” he added, keeping his face neutral when Cassie hissed, “Hogwash!”

“It might take years,” Eloise said, angling her head sideways as if lost in thought.

“Just like it took forever and ever for Grandpa Robbie to get his wish when he met Grandma Livvy,” Sophie added excitedly. “El, we’re getting a dog for sure!”

“And another tradition continues,” Cassie laughed as the girls babbled excitedly while scribbling their wishes on paper.

Ethan rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Times like this, they’re more Valentine than Ramsey.”

“I disagree,” Cassie snorted, laughter in her eyes. “But then I’m biased since I fell in love with a Ramsey.”

Ethan gently grasped her chin and lifted her face to gaze into her eyes. His mouth lowered and captured her lips in a tender, heart-wrenching kiss, losing himself in the magic of the moment.

Eloise and Sophie stopped writing to watch their parents kissing, shared a furtive glance and silently giggled. Forget the dog. Maybe they would get a brother instead.

-----------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate @zealouscanonindeer

[jerzwriter]

Tag-List Clean Up

With the fandom being so small now, I debated if it was even worth doing this. But the truth is, Tumblr doesn't make tagging easy, and I'd rather have a shorter list that is representative of those who really want to see my work, so a clean-up is needed!

If you're currently on one of my lists, please comment, reblog, or DM me if you'd like to remain on. Unless you specify otherwise, I'll leave you on the lists you are on now.

If you're not currently on one of my lists but would like to be, please comment, reblog, or DM me with the list you wish to be added to.

These are the lists I will be maintaining:

Perma: You will be subjected to (hey - you asked for it 😉) all fics, edits, commissions.

Open Heart: All Open Heart works.

Ethan Ramsey All: Any and all works including Ethan. They can be Ethan x MC, Ethan x OC, Ethan standalone, or friendship.

Ethan Ramsey x MC: These will be limited to Ethan x Kaycee (or a new MC, should I choose to create one).

Tobias Carrick All: Any and all works including Tobias. This will generally be Tobias x Casey (MC) but may involve other pairings or platonic stories as well.

Wake the Dead: All WTD Works

Crimes of Passion: All CoP Works

Given that people aren't online as often, I will leave this open for a month. If I don't hear from current followers by the end of October, I will remove you effective November 1st.

Thank you for your attention - and thank you to everyone who has supported me the last two years in this crazy little corner!

Current lists below break.

Perma: @animesuck3r @alj4890 @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @differenttyphoonwerewolf @fayeswiftie @gryffindordaughterofathena @genevievemd @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @sophxwithers @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Open Heart: @alwaysmychoices @annfg8 @binny1985 @coffeeheartaddict2 @peonierose @youlookappropriate

Ethan All: @custaroonie @headoverheelsforramsey @mrs-ramsey @parisa-kh @queencarb @wanderingamongthewildflowers

Ethan x MC: @cariantha @cryomyst @mysticaurathings

Tobias: @icecoffee90 @kyra75 @storyofmychoices

@jerzwriter-reblogs-asks

(Wake the Dead and Crimes of Passion will be on reblog - as Tumblr is doing Tumblr-y things...)

[princess-geek]

My heart in one picture

Some of my favourite "Choices" love interests ever.

Made by the lovely @jennifer.plays.choices (Instagram).

@jeanele ❣  @missameliep ​  ❣  @regencylady1810 ​ ❣ @i-put-the-sin-in-sinclaire @whenyourheartskipsabeat ❣ @xjustin-ethansgirliex  ❣  @noesapphic ❣  @gardeningourmet ❣ @paisleylovergirl  ❣ @dailydoseofchoices  ❣  @rhyssescups ❣  @storyofmychoices  ❣  @a-shining-lucky-star  ❣   @lorircreates  ❣  @lorirwritesfanfic ❣ @walkerduchess  ❣@indiacater ❣ @kinkypot ❣ @anotherbeingsworld ❣ @hellooliviaolivia ❣ @pixel-writer19  ❣ @sinclaire-ity  ❣ @darknessabovethelite ❣  @brightningstar ❣@ezekielbhandarivalleros ❣ @marlcasters ❣ @bhartigat81 ❣ @lyannacyrill706 ❣ @daddytyrilstarfury  ❣ @secretaryunpaid ❣ @allisonreilynn ❣ @fauxleaves ❣ @twinkleallnight ❣ @kingliamrys ❣ @iloveethanramsey ❣ @surewhyynot ❣ @yvettegolx  ❣ @itlivesinpixelberry ❣  @chutchoices ❣ @electroniccreatorwerewolf  ❣ @spookycolorpeanut  ❣ @peonierose ❣ @quixoticdreamer16   ❣ @lilyoffandoms   ❣ @tessa-liam

[cariantha]

Never Been Kissed

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Category: Fluff Word count: 1.8K Summary: Ethan helps Sawyer with one of her New Year’s resolutions. A/N: I woke up with this idea yesterday and hammered it out last night so I could post it in time for NYE. Please forgive any errors. Happy New Year!🎉🪩🍾

Events/Prompts: • Participating in CFWC Holidays 2023 • Participating in Choices Flashfics Week #66 Prompts 🫤3: “How much worse could it get?” • Participating in Choices Holidays Winter 2023

Sawyer had never kissed anyone on New Year's Eve. 

Every year, for as long as she could remember, she rang in the new year with her family. The tradition was due in part to the fact that it was also her father's birthday. Twelve years away at school, but she always returned home for the holidays, never missing the annual event. Even last year, her first in Boston, she was able to make it home. A trip made possible by the plane ticket Ethan had given her for Christmas, a generous thank-you gift for helping him with Naveen.

In recent years their family party grew to include significant others and their babies. Everyone had a special someone to kiss at midnight. Everyone but Sawyer. 

When she broke the news to her parents that she was staying in Boston for New Years, there was disappointment on both ends of the line. A couple weeks had passed since she returned to work, and the medical leave she took to recuperate from the attack had already eaten up more time than she could afford. She couldn’t spare any more time away. Her parents were understanding, and Sawyer found a silver lining in that she finally had a special someone to kiss at midnight this year.

At least that was the case until she looked at her schedule a week later. Zaid accommodated her request for extra shifts, allowing her to make up clinic hours. But given that she worked a double on Christmas, she didn’t expect another on New Year’s Eve. She should have known better. It was one of the busiest nights of the year in the emergency department.  

🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾

After a quick coffee break at Derry’s, Ethan helped Sawyer put her coat back on. He took the cream colored beanie that she pulled from her pocket and fitted it over her head. “Nice bunny tail,” he said, gently swatting the giant cotton ball sewn to the top of her knit hat. 

“Watch it, Mister, or you won’t be getting any of this tail for a while,” she turned and shook her rear end at him.

Just before they headed back inside the hospital, Sawyer squeezed his hand. “Sure you don’t want to volunteer and stay for another shift?” she asked, looking up at him with a puppy dog pout.

The first time Sawyer returned to work after the attack, with her landlord in tow, it had been a complete disaster. Though things had gone better this time around, Ethan kept an eye out for any signs of distress. She had her ups and downs, and he couldn't help but worry about her. "Is everything all right?"

“Yeah, it’s fine. You don’t need to worry. I promise,” she tried to assure him, sensing his concern. “I’m just going to miss you tonight, that’s all.” 

Ethan could still feel something was off, but dropped it.   

🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾

It took him twice as long to get home with New Year’s revelers heading to their festivities around town. After a light dinner, a satisfying workout, and a long, hot shower, Ethan settled on his couch. The apartment suddenly felt too quiet, too empty. He missed his girlfriend. Since Sawyer began picking up double-shifts, they had not had a lot of time alone. Sure he got to see her at work. But it wasn’t the same as curling up together on the couch and talking about their day, or kissing whenever they felt like it, or waking up in each other’s arms. 

Hoping it would provide some distraction, he turned on the television and watched the local news. When the weather segment began, Ethan grew bored. He reached for a book on the coffee table, finding Sawyer’s notebook underneath. He recognized it from their DT meetings, where she took meticulous notes and sometimes doodled during their brainstorming sessions. She must have forgotten it the last time she stayed over. 

The way her mind worked fascinated him. She could be discussing the differences between apples and oranges when… Click! An idea would pop into her head to check their patient for uneven skin texture, giving her the lead needed to reach a successful diagnosis. 

Curious to know her thoughts about their current, undiagnosed patient, Ethan picked up the notebook and flipped through the pages. They were filled with detailed notes from each of their team meetings. Random side notes littered the margins. Tacos or burritos? He chuckled, wondering if the question was part of a diagnostic brainstorm, or if she was just hungry at the time. Turning the page to a more recent entry, he found Sawyer’s notes from a meeting he conducted last week. Ethan had attempted to inspire the team by conducting a goal-setting exercise. He asked everyone to jot down a few professional and personal goals for the new year. 

Several emotions washed over Ethan as he read her goals. She was cute as hell, but his heart broke a little knowing how much weight she still carried on her shoulders. 

On the TV, the New Year’s Eve countdown now aired. A correspondent stood in front of a large crowd of people gathered in Times Square. “…And according to folklore, a kiss at midnight brings luck and strength to that relationship for the rest of the year. So, who will you be kissing when the clock strikes twelve?” Ethan looked down at her list again. Is that why she wanted me to stay tonight? Was that the reason she seemed so… disappointed? 

A timer in the corner of the TV screen counted down the time to the famous ball drop. Forty minutes until midnight. 

Ethan never paid any mind to superstitions. Thinking back to the events of the past two years, he thought to himself, “How much worse could it get?” He shuddered at the thought, bolting to his closet where he threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, then slipped into his running shoes. He was not going to take any chances, and most importantly, he was intent on giving Sawyer whatever she desired. If she wanted a kiss at midnight, he would make it happen. Keys and jacket in hand, the door to his apartment slammed shut behind him.

Ethan stepped into the atrium and checked the clock behind the reception desk. Fifteen minutes until midnight. 

He pushed through the doors of the emergency department a couple minutes later. It was eerily quiet. The calm before the storm. In about an hour, the waiting room would be packed with reckless and unfortunate party-goers. He didn’t see Sawyer anywhere, but wanting to confirm, Ethan inquired at the triage desk. 

“Happy New Year, Dr. Ramsey,” the triage coordinator greeted. 

“Happy New Year, Anabel. Have you seen Dr. Brooks?”

“About an hour ago? She mentioned trying to catch a quick nap before the midnight rush.”

“Thank you.”

Ethan made his way to the on-call room nearest the emergency room. When he opened the door, the beds were full of sleeping doctors, but Sawyer was not among them. After a quick peek in the cafeteria, he headed up to the Internal Medicine floor. The hallways were dim and quiet at this time of night. He checked all the obvious places. Staff lounge, empty. Resident locker room, empty. The on-call room was also empty, save for a pager that someone had left behind. Duh! 

“Could you page Dr. Brooks, please?” he asked the nurse sitting behind the circular desk. Not a moment later, the pager in his hand started to vibrate. 

Of course. He wondered if this was the universe mocking him for his skepticism.  

Jan, the night supervisor, quietly exited the patient’s room behind him. “Hey kiddo, I thought you went home a few hours ago?” She noticed the pager in his hand. “Did someone page you?”

“Uh, no. Jan, I’m looking for Sawy- for Dr. Brooks? Have you seen her?” he asked. 

“No, hon, but I’ve seen several folks making their way up to the helipad for the fireworks. Maybe she’s up there?”

Yes! She loves fireworks. Ethan looked at his wrist. Five minutes until midnight. 

After thanking the nurses, he walked with purpose to the elevator bank and punched the up button. Come on, come on! Four minutes to midnight. 

When he reached the seventh floor he jogged to the helipad entrance. The automatic glass doors slid open and a frigid gush of wind hit his face. With only the light of the helipad beacons, Ethan frantically scanned the gathered crowd. She’s not here. Dammit!  

He checked the time again. Two minutes until midnight.

As he turned to head back inside, he noticed a large chunk of snow falling from above. It fell from a secluded section of the rooftop that few knew how to access. Naveen referred to it as “the bird’s nest.” He shared its location with Ethan, and in turn, Ethan shared it with Sawyer. It was a place they could go when they needed a minute of peace. To his surprise, he saw what appeared to be a snowball floating in midair. Wait… not a snowball. A bunny tail! 

When he reached the stairwell, he glanced at his watch again. One minute until midnight.

Climbing the stairs three at a time, he quickly ascended two flights of stairs, bursting onto the ninth floor. Thankfully these hallways were lined mostly with administrative offices and were completely abandoned given the late hour. Sprinting to the end of the long hallway, Ethan pulled on a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only.” He launched himself through the dark doorway and blindly climbed another flight of stairs. 

Just as his hand reached the door at the top of the staircase, he heard an explosion on the other side. Midnight.

Sawyer jumped when she heard the steel door crash against the stone exterior of the building. Turning around, she saw Ethan. Steam puffed from his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. 

With the sky sparkling behind her, he grabbed the sides of her face, and crashed his lips onto hers. Once the urgency had subsided, he changed the angle and kissed her again. Deep and tender. When he pulled away to give his lungs a chance to expand, Sawyer could see the fireworks reflected in his eyes.

Tucked in his embrace, she smiled up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping you keep your New Year’s resolutions.” 

She looked at him confused. “Wait... how did you know about that?” She hadn’t remembered mentioning it to him, or anyone for that matter. 

“You left your notebook at my apartment.” He reached into his pocket and handed her the pager. “You also left this in the on-call room.”

“Shit. Please don’t tell my boss.” 

“You’ll have to silence me with another kiss,” he smirked. 

“Well, if that's what it takes...” she laughed, standing on her tiptoes. She brushed her lips against his and whispered, “Happy New Year, Ethan.” 

Before claiming her lips again, he whispered back, “Happy New Year, Rookie.” 

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @zealouscanonindeer @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75 @socalwriterbee @txemrn @choicesflashfics