Jamie woke to warmth.
His mind was still hazy with sleep, the weight of the night before lingering in the edges of his consciousness.
Something pressed against his side. Soft. Warm. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected.
He frowned slightly, his body tensing as he blinked the sleep away, trying to clear the fog in his mind.
Then, he turned his head.
And saw her.
Lexie.
She was still asleep, her breathing slow and even, her face completely relaxed in the soft glow of the morning light. Peaceful.
She looked beautiful.
Her dark hair spilled over the pillow in waves, a striking contrast against the crisp white sheets. And she was still wearing the dress from last night.
Jamie exhaled softly, staring at the ceiling as the pieces of the night before fell back into place.
Dinner. That tiny Italian restaurant.
The best lasagna he'd ever had.
Conversations that felt so natural, so effortless, he hadn't even realized how much he was saying.
The piano.
Her laughter.
The way she looked at him.
And then—the things he told her.
Things he rarely spoke about. Things that only a handful of people in the world knew about him.
That wasn't like him.
Jamie kept his past locked away. It was safer that way.
So why had it felt so easy?
So right?
A quiet shift beside him pulled him from his thoughts.
Lexie stirred, mumbling something under her breath before her breathing hitched slightly. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open.
For a second, she just blinked sleepily, disoriented.
Then—her gaze sharpened.
Her eyes widened slightly as she fully registered where she was. Jamie could practically see the gears turning in her head as she took in the room. The unfamiliar space, the soft morning light filtering through the windows. Then, her eyes dropped to her dress, still wrinkled from sleep.
And then—her gaze landed on him.
Jamie.
They stared at each other.
No words. No rush to fill the silence. Just taking each other in.
Jamie smirked, his voice still rough from sleep. "Good morning."
Lexie blinked a few more times, still adjusting to the world around her, before turning to face him fully.
"Were you watching me sleep?" she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
Jamie grinned, leaning back against the pillow. "You looked cute."
Lexie scoffed, sitting up slightly. "Cute?"
Jamie nodded, his smirk growing. "Like Bambi."
Lexie froze, her expression shifting from confusion to mock outrage.
"Bambi?"
"Yeah." Jamie chuckled. "All doe-eyed and innocent."
Before he could say anything else, a pillow flew straight at his face.
Jamie barely had time to react before it smacked him in the chest.
Lexie gasped dramatically, pretending to cover her mouth. "Oops."
Jamie laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, it's like that, huh?"
Lexie just grinned, reaching for another pillow as if daring him to retaliate.
For a moment, the weight of everything—the hesitation, the unspoken emotions—faded into laughter and lightness.
Jamie glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 6:00 AM.
He let out a quiet sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "We should get up."
Lexie groaned dramatically, burying her face back into the pillow. "No, we really shouldn't."
Jamie smirked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "My shift starts in an hour."
Lexie peeked at him through half-lidded eyes. "That sounds like a you problem."
Jamie chuckled, standing up and stretching. "The shower's across the hall. You wanna go first?"
Lexie propped herself up on her elbows and gave him a pointed look. "And wear what, exactly? I don't have a change of clothes, stupid."
Jamie paused, then muttered, "Right."
He ran a hand through his hair, thinking for a second before exhaling. "I've got some sportswear. Sweatpants, a hoodie... it'll be too big, but it's all I've got."
Lexie stared at him for a beat, then slowly smirked. "I get to wear Dr. Jamie's clothes?"
Jamie rolled his eyes. "It's not that exciting, Lexie."
Lexie just grinned, sitting up. "Oh, I'm making this a thing."
Jamie sighed, shaking his head as he headed toward the closet, muttering under his breath. "Of course you are."
Jamie grabbed a pair of gray sweatpants and an oversized hoodie from his closet, folding them before handing them to Lexie.
"Here. It's all I've got."
Lexie took the bundle, holding it up as she eyed the size difference. "Oh yeah, this is definitely gonna be a look."
Jamie smirked. "You're welcome."
She rolled her eyes but grinned, disappearing into the bathroom.
With a quiet sigh, Jamie made his way to the kitchen, pressing the button on the coffee machine and watching as it hummed to life. The rich scent of espresso filled the space, but he barely noticed it.
He leaned against the counter for a moment, then exhaled and moved to the living room.
Dropping onto the couch, he let his head fall back against the cushions, staring at the ceiling.
How had it come to this?
Two days ago, Lexie had been a stranger. Now, she was sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes, taking over his morning.
And somehow... he wasn't even mad about it.
He turned his head slightly, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Seattle's skyline. The city was just beginning to wake—streetlights still flickering, the sky tinged in soft hues of early morning.
Jamie's fingers tapped absently against his knee as his thoughts drifted.
This wasn't normal for him. Letting someone in this quickly. Letting someone matter this quickly.
He sighed again, rubbing his hand over his face.
It was too soon to think about it.
Too soon to figure out what any of this meant.
But as the coffee machine beeped softly behind him, signaling it was ready, Jamie realized one thing.
He didn't regret it.
And that scared him more than anything.
Lexie emerged from the bathroom, her damp hair falling in loose waves, drowning in Jamie's oversized hoodie and sweatpants.
She took a step toward him, stretching her arms out to the sides before doing a slow twirl.
"So?" she asked, grinning. "How do I look?"
Jamie leaned back on the couch, arms crossed, watching her with amusement.
"Ridiculous."
Lexie gasped, placing a hand over her heart. "Rude."
Jamie chuckled, shaking his head. "There's coffee in the kitchen." He pushed himself off the couch. "I'm gonna grab a shower."
Lexie saluted him playfully before heading toward the kitchen.
----------------------------------------
By the time Jamie stepped back into the kitchen—freshly showered, hair slightly damp, tie perfectly in place—he came to an abrupt halt.
Lexie was at the stove, sleeves rolled up to keep them from covering her hands, carefully scrambling eggs in a pan.
For a second, he just stared.
The scene felt oddly... natural.
As if she had done this a hundred times before.
Lexie glanced up, catching his expression. "Before you say anything—your fridge is basically empty." She pointed the spatula at him. "You had eggs and... that's it. So, you're welcome."
Jamie smirked, walking toward the counter. "Worried I'd starve to death without you?"
Lexie tilted her head, considering. "Actually... yeah."
Jamie let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "I called James yesterday. He was supposed to send someone to restock."
Lexie turned off the stove and turned to face him. "James?"
Jamie grabbed a mug and poured himself some coffee, answering casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "The family butler."
Lexie blinked. Once. Twice.
Then, slowly, a smirk crept onto her face. "The butler, Jamie?"
Jamie shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. "Yes. Is that a problem?"
Lexie shook her head, grinning. "I mean, I knew you were wealthy. But a butler? Now I'm actually worried you'll starve to death without me."
Jamie rolled his eyes, setting his coffee down. "I'll manage."
Lexie handed him a plate. "Sure, rich boy. Eat before I start charging you for my services."
Jamie chuckled, taking the plate as he sat at the counter.
For someone he had just met, Lexie was dangerously good at making herself at home.
Jamie took a bite of the eggs, chewing thoughtfully before nodding. "Alright, not bad."
Lexie smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Not bad? That's all I get?"
Jamie shrugged, taking another bite. "Tastes good. But let's be honest, Grey—eggs are hard to mess up."
Lexie gasped, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. "Wow. I slave away in your kitchen, saving you from starvation, and all I get is 'not bad'?"
Jamie chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, fine. Amazing eggs, Lexie. Best I've ever had."
Lexie grinned. "That's more like it."
Jamie took another bite before glancing at the clock. His brows furrowed slightly.
"Alright, we really need to get going."
Lexie sighed dramatically. "I was hoping you'd forget about that."
Jamie gave her a pointed look. "Your flight's in a few hours. Unless you suddenly changed your mind about leaving?"
Lexie hesitated for half a second, then quickly masked it with a smirk. "Tempting. But no."
Jamie finished his coffee in one long sip before standing. "Then let's go."
Lexie sighed again but got up, grabbing her plate and taking it to the sink. "Fine. But only because I don't trust you to drive me to the airport if I make us late."
Jamie smirked. "Smart choice."
With that, they grabbed their things and headed out the door.
------------------------------
Jamie pulled up in front of Lexie's house, shifting the car into park. The soft hum of the engine filled the space between them.
Neither of them spoke.
The air was thick with unspoken words, the weight of something neither was quite ready to address.
Jamie finally looked at her, his voice softer than usual.
"So… this is it, huh?"
Lexie stiffened slightly, her gaze flickering away. "Yeah."
She didn't move right away. Neither did Jamie.
For a moment, it felt like both of them were waiting for the other to say something more. But what?
Jamie finally exhaled and pushed the door open. He stepped out, the crisp morning air hitting his face, but he barely felt it.
He walked around the front of the car, coming to her side.
Jamie opened her door.
Lexie hesitated. Just for a second. Then, with a quiet breath, she stepped out.
And then, suddenly, she threw her arms around him.
Jamie stiffened for half a second before instinct kicked in—he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, one hand resting gently against the back of her head.
Lexie's grip on him tightened, like she wasn't ready to let go just yet.
Jamie exhaled slowly, lowering his head toward her ear.
"You're amazing." His voice was firm, sincere. "Never forget that."
Lexie pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his, and then—she kissed him.
It was sudden. Soft. Certain.
Jamie froze.
Every part of him wanted to lean in—to let himself fall—but instead, he pulled away.
It wasn't harsh. Just a fraction of an inch—but it was enough.
Enough for Lexie to notice.
Her expression shifted—hurt flashing across her face for the briefest second before she masked it, her lips pressing into a thin line.
She nodded once, almost to herself, before turning toward the house.
Jamie clenched his fists, watching her walk away, his chest tightening.
And then, he moved.
"Lexie, wait."
She stopped mid-step, her back still to him.
"What?" Her voice was carefully neutral.
Jamie swallowed, raking a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
"I'm sorry, okay?"
Lexie turned slowly, crossing her arms. But there was no anger in her face. Just… waiting.
Jamie met her gaze, forcing himself to say what he'd been too afraid to admit.
"I don't know how this works." He let out a quiet, self-deprecating chuckle, shaking his head. "I like you, Lexie. More than I should, more than I know how to handle. But I haven't been in a real relationship in maybe eight years."
Lexie's brows lifted slightly, but she said nothing.
Jamie let out a breath. "And even before that? They weren't that long. Or that many. I don't know how to do this."
Lexie studied him for a second, then—she softened.
"Jamie." She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his hand. "It's okay."
Jamie swallowed, his heart pounding, but this time, he didn't pull away.
Lexie smiled, small, knowing. "I'll call you when I land, okay?"
Jamie hesitated.
And then, before he could stop himself—he pulled her in and kissed her.
This time, it was different.
This time, it was intentional.
Lexie let out a soft sound of surprise, but she melted into him almost instantly. Her fingers curled against his jacket, her body pressing just slightly into his as she kissed him back.
Jamie was the first to pull away.
He stepped back before he could second-guess himself again, his lips quirking into a small teasing smile.
"See you around, Bambi."
Lexie let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head, but there was something warm in her gaze.
Jamie turned, walked back to his car, and pulled away.
And for the first time in a long time—his heart was racing for something other than surgery and adrenaline.
---------------------------------------
Jamie stepped through the hospital doors, the crisp morning air still clinging to his skin. The hum of Seattle Grace buzzed around him—doctors and nurses moving with purpose, pagers beeping, conversations overlapping.
He was late.
Not by much, but enough that it was unusual for him.
His mind was still reeling from the morning—from Lexie. From the way he had almost let her in. From the way he had let her in.
He exhaled, rolling his shoulders, pushing those thoughts aside. He had a shift to focus on.
Before he could even take another step, a nurse hurried toward him.
"Dr. Knight, Chief Webber wants to see you in his office."
Jamie frowned slightly. Webber?
"Now?"
She nodded. "Yes. He said as soon as you got in."
Jamie sighed, adjusting the strap of his bag. "Alright."
---------------------------------------
As Jamie approached Webber's office, the door swung open.
Bailey stepped out first, her expression tight, her movements clipped—a clear sign that something hadn't sat right with her. Cristina followed right behind, her face carefully neutral. Too neutral.
Jamie's gaze flicked between them, reading between the lines.
Bailey muttered something under her breath but kept moving, not sparing him a second glance. Cristina, on the other hand, met his eyes for a split second—then looked away, jaw set.
Interesting.
Jamie paused at the threshold, knocking once against the doorframe.
"Sir, should I come back?"
Webber barely looked up. "There's no need, Dr. Knight. Close the door."
Jamie did as told, stepping inside just as Webber shifted his gaze toward Shepherd and Burke.
The room was thick with something unspoken. The kind of tension that only comes when something big is about to drop.
Webber exhaled sharply before speaking.
"Burke, you and Shepherd need to come together on this tremor as soon as possible."
Derek scoffed, shaking his head. "He doesn't want my help."
Burke didn't miss a beat. "I don't want his help."
Jamie barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Great. So this was going well.
Webber's voice cut through the air, firm and final. "That hand is worth $2 million. I want it fixed, and I want it fixed yesterday. Figure it out."
Neither man responded, but the tension thickened.
Without missing a beat, Webber turned to Jamie. "In the meantime, can you take over Burke's cases?"
Jamie straightened. "That's no problem, but if a trauma comes in, I'll have to reschedule some surgeries."
Webber nodded. "Handle them as you see fit." Then, his gaze sharpened. "If you want that trauma department, now's the time to prove it. It's going to cost a lot, take time, and require a hell of a lot of convincing. Show me why it's worth it."
Jamie held his stare for a moment before nodding. "Understood."
Webber dismissed them with a small nod, and Jamie followed Derek and Burke out the door.
As soon as they were in the hallway, Derek turned to Jamie. "Did you know?"
Jamie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I noticed the tremor." His voice was even, measured. "I confronted Burke about it. Then I disappeared for a week. When I came back, I saw him and Yang in the OR. I talked to him again, and he said he would tell Webber." Jamie exhaled. "It wasn't my place to tell."
Derek huffed a laugh, but it wasn't amused. "Not your place?" His voice was edged with frustration. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
Jamie met his gaze, unflinching. "Because it wasn't my secret to tell."
Silence.
Burke didn't say a word.
Jamie didn't either.
And then, without another look, Jamie turned on his heel and walked away.
"What a mess." Jamie muttered under his breath.
---------------------------------------------
Jamie stood near the nurses' station, flipping through a stack of charts. His workload had doubled since taking on Burke's cases, and he was trying to reorganize surgeries, making room for trauma cases if needed.
The hospital was buzzing, a steady hum of movement and voices in the background. He barely looked up when he heard footsteps approaching—until George O'Malley cleared his throat.
"Dr. Knight," George said, hesitating slightly. "Do you have a second?"
Jamie glanced up, noticing the tension in George's face. His hands were gripping a chart just a little too tightly.
Jamie straightened. "What's up?"
George swallowed before handing over the chart. "It's my dad."
Jamie's brows furrowed slightly as he took it, flipping it open.
"He was admitted two days ago," George explained quickly. "Passed out, fell, broke his clavicle. Callie said his clavicle would be fine, but… he was complaining of abdominal pain, so they scheduled an endoscopy."
Jamie kept his expression neutral as he scanned the pages, already knowing where this was going.
George exhaled sharply. "The endoscopy showed esophageal cancer. It's already spread to his stomach."
Jamie frowned slightly. That wasn't good.
George kept talking, his voice getting faster, like he needed to get it all out at once. "He needs surgery, chemo, radiation. But then his EKG came back abnormal, so they checked his heart."
Jamie's eyes flicked up at that. "What did they find?"
George ran a hand through his hair, his anxiety bleeding through. "Severe aortic regurgitation. He has a leaking aortic valve. They need to replace it before they can even start treating the cancer."
Jamie nodded slightly, absorbing all the information as he flipped to the latest test results.
"Who's doing the surgery?" he asked.
George hesitated. "Dr. Hahn."
Jamie's brows lifted slightly as he closed the chart. "Hahn?"
George nodded. "Yeah, I asked her. I—" He shifted uncomfortably. "I wanted Burke at first. But then, you know… the tremor." His voice was tight, like saying it out loud made it more real.
Jamie studied him for a moment before shaking his head. "And you didn't think to come to me?"
George looked up, startled. "What?"
Jamie leaned slightly against the counter, arms crossing as he gave George a pointed look. "I don't want to brag, O'Malley—but I'm probably better than Hahn and Burke. But don't tell him I said that."
George opened his mouth, then closed it. "I—I just—"
Jamie smiled slightly, shaking his head. "Relax, I'm not actually mad. But next time, think before you rush to invite someone from out of town."
George let out a breath. "It wasn't like that—I was just—"
"In a hurry. I get it." Jamie flipped the chart closed, his expression turning serious. "I'll talk to Hahn. See if she's okay with me assisting."
George exhaled in relief. "Thank you."
Jamie gave him a small nod before pushing off the counter. "Don't mention it."
As George walked off, Jamie glanced back down at the chart.
This wasn't just another case. This was personal.
---------------------------------------
Jamie made his way down the hallway, glancing at the room numbers until he found Harold O'Malley's. He had asked a nurse on the way, and she had confirmed that Dr. Hahn was already inside.
As he reached the door, he could hear the faint rustling of paper. He knocked lightly before stepping in.
Hahn was standing at the foot of Harold's bed, flipping through his chart. Her expression was focused, unreadable.
Harold, looking paler than usual but still managing a small smile, glanced up when Jamie entered.
"Dr. Knight," Harold greeted, his voice a little hoarse. "You're another one of my son's doctor friends, huh?"
Jamie smirked. "Something like that." He stepped closer, offering a quick glance at the monitor before turning to Hahn. "Do you have a moment?"
Hahn barely glanced up from the chart. "Make it quick."
Jamie nodded before turning back to Harold. "How are you feeling?"
Harold gave a half-hearted shrug. "Like I fell, broke a bone, found out I have cancer, and need heart surgery before I can even start dealing with that." He let out a dry chuckle. "So, you know, not my best week."
Jamie smiled lightly. "That's fair."
Hahn shut the chart with a snap. "Alright, what do you want, Knight?"
Jamie turned to her, keeping his tone professional. "O'Malley asked if I could assist with his father's surgery. I told him I'd talk to you first."
Hahn studied him for a beat.
"You assist," she said finally. "No taking over. No trying to impress anyone. I lead, you follow."
Jamie smirked slightly. "Wouldn't dream of stealing your spotlight, Hahn."
She huffed. "Good."
Harold glanced between them, amused. "I feel like I just got the best of the best on my case."
Jamie grinned. "That's because you did."
Hahn rolled her eyes but didn't argue. "Fine. Surgery's scheduled for the afternoon. Don't be late."
With that, she walked out, already onto her next case.
Jamie exhaled, turning back to Harold. "Don't worry, Mr. O'Malley. We've got you."
Harold nodded, a little more reassured. "Thanks, son."
Jamie gave him a small nod before heading out, already thinking about the surgery ahead.
-------------------------------------
Jamie's pager buzzed sharply at his hip.
TRAUMA BAY. IMMEDIATE RESPONSE.
He barely glanced at the screen before he was already moving. His heart rate didn't spike—he was used to this. His mind sharpened, instinct taking over.
He pushed through the double doors of the ER, spotting Meredith Grey and Bailey rushing toward him.
"Construction site accident," Bailey informed as they moved. "Male, mid-40s, fell three stories. Impalement injury—rebar through the chest."
Jamie's jaw tightened. "Vitals?"
"BP 90 over 60, heart rate 128," Meredith supplied, glancing at the incoming trauma report. "Decreased breath sounds on the left. Possible tension pneumothorax."
Jamie nodded. "Let's go."
The ambulance bay doors burst open. The paramedics wheeled in the stretcher, and for a moment, the ER was filled with chaos.
A man, mid-40s, lay strapped down, an oxygen mask secured to his face. A thick, rusted rebar rod jutted out from his left chest, just below the clavicle. His breathing was rapid and shallow, his skin pale. Blood seeped from the wound, soaking the gauze haphazardly applied by the field medics.
Jamie took control immediately.
"Alright, get him into Trauma One. Move carefully—we don't want to shift that rebar more than it already is."
They navigated through the crowded ER, moving swiftly but carefully. Inside the trauma room, Jamie positioned himself at the head of the bed, assessing the situation.
"Meredith, get an ABG and lactate levels. Bailey, let's get a portable chest X-ray and FAST ultrasound. Type and cross for four units—he's already hypotensive, and he's going to need blood."
Meredith moved quickly, drawing the necessary labs as the nurse handed Jamie a pair of trauma shears.
"I need to expose the injury," Jamie said, cutting away the construction worker's blood-stained shirt. As the fabric peeled back, the full extent of the wound became visible. The rebar had pierced just below the clavicle, exiting near the posterior shoulder blade.
Bailey frowned. "Damn. That's close to the subclavian vessels."
Jamie nodded. "If that metal shifted on impact, we could be looking at a major vascular injury. Meredith, what's our biggest concern?"
Meredith's eyes flicked to the wound. "Subclavian artery or vein damage. If the artery is compromised, he could be bleeding into his chest cavity."
Jamie smirked slightly. "Good. Now tell me how we confirm that."
"Chest X-ray and FAST ultrasound," Meredith answered immediately. "We check for hemothorax or signs of massive blood loss."
Bailey passed Jamie the ultrasound probe, and he moved quickly, scanning the left side of the patient's chest.
"Collapsed lung," Jamie muttered, adjusting the angle. "Blood in the pleural space. We've got a hemothorax."
The portable X-ray tech stepped in, positioning the plate behind the patient. Jamie stepped back as the image was taken, his eyes locked on the monitor as the image loaded.
"Alright, lung collapse confirmed. The rebar is resting dangerously close to the subclavian artery, but we can't tell for sure if it's nicked."
Meredith furrowed her brows. "Wouldn't we see expanding hematomas?"
Jamie nodded. "Normally, yes. But depending on how the rebar is positioned, it could be tamponading the bleed."
Bailey huffed. "So, we don't pull it out until we're in the OR."
Jamie nodded, already moving. "Exactly." He turned to the team. "Let's get a chest tube in before we head upstairs. He needs lung re-expansion ASAP."
Meredith prepped the equipment while Jamie cleaned the side of the patient's chest.
"Alright, Meredith, where do we insert?"
"Fifth intercostal space, mid-axillary line," Meredith answered as she handed him the scalpel.
Jamie nodded in approval before making a controlled incision. "Clamp."
He used the curved Kelly clamp to bluntly dissect through the intercostal muscles. As soon as he entered the pleural space, a rush of dark blood spilled out.
"That's the hemothorax decompressing," Jamie explained as he inserted the chest tube. "Connecting to suction."
Bailey checked the monitor. "SATs are improving."
Jamie glanced at the vitals. "Good. He's stable enough for transport. Let's get him to the OR. We're not touching that rebar until we've got vascular control."
The team moved quickly, wheeling the patient out. As Jamie followed, Meredith fell into step beside him.
"You quiz every intern during major trauma?" she asked, slightly out of breath.
Jamie smirked. "Just the promising ones."
Bailey rolled her eyes. "Don't boost her ego, Knight."
Jamie chuckled as they pushed into the OR doors. "No promises."
--------------------------
The trauma team moved quickly, positioning the patient on the table as anesthesia took over. The ventilator hissed with each controlled breath, his vitals stable but precarious. Jamie stood at the head of the table, pulling on his surgical gloves while Meredith and Bailey scrubbed in beside him.
"Alright, let's run through what we're dealing with," Jamie said, his voice steady as he assessed the impalement site. "Meredith, walk me through our primary concerns."
Meredith exhaled. "Rebar entered below the left clavicle, exited near the posterior shoulder blade. Biggest risk is vascular injury—subclavian artery or vein. Possible brachial plexus involvement, lung damage, and rib fractures."
Jamie gave a small nod. "Good. And why haven't we removed it yet?"
"Because it's potentially tamponading a major bleed," she answered, then hesitated. "If we pull it out before securing vascular control, we could cause rapid exsanguination."
"Correct," Jamie said. "What's our plan?"
Meredith thought for a moment. "We'll perform a controlled removal. We expose the wound, isolate the vessels, place clamps proximal and distal to the injury if needed, then repair any damage before fully extracting the rebar."
Jamie smirked slightly. "Not bad. But you missed one step."
Meredith frowned slightly, glancing at Bailey, who was watching closely.
Jamie raised a brow. "If the artery is compromised, what do we do before pulling the foreign object?"
Meredith hesitated. "Uh… direct vascular control?"
Jamie shook his head. "We gain proximal control first, before we even attempt direct repair. If we open it up without control, we could trigger a catastrophic bleed. This is surgery, Grey, not a game of chance."
Meredith pressed her lips together but nodded.
Jamie turned to the scrub nurse. "Ten blade."
The scalpel was placed into his outstretched hand. He made a controlled incision along the left subclavicular region, extending it laterally to give them full exposure of the injury site. Blood seeped around the rebar, pooling at the edges of the wound.
"Bailey, retract," Jamie instructed.
Bailey adjusted the retractor, exposing the area beneath the clavicle.
"Alright, Grey, what structures do we need to identify before proceeding?" Jamie quizzed as he carefully dissected through the pectoralis major muscle.
Meredith furrowed her brows. "Uh, the subclavian artery and vein, the brachial plexus, and the lung apex?"
"Correct. And if the artery is damaged?" Jamie asked as he carefully retracted the soft tissue, exposing the shimmering surface of the subclavian artery running just above the first rib.
Meredith opened her mouth, hesitated, then finally answered, "We clamp it proximal and distal to prevent massive hemorrhage?"
"Good," Jamie said, nodding. "But we also have to be careful not to injure the phrenic nerve while dissecting. The last thing we need is to compromise his diaphragm."
Bailey arched a brow at him, noting how easily he navigated the surgical field.
"Metz," Jamie said, requesting the Metzenbaum scissors. He used them to carefully dissect around the vessel. As he worked, a sudden rush of dark blood spurted upward, painting his gloves.
"He's bleeding!" Meredith called, eyes wide.
"Subclavian artery was nicked," Jamie said smoothly, his voice unwavering. "Suction."
Bailey moved in, suctioning the pooling blood while Jamie worked fast, his hands steady.
"Grey, what do we use for vascular repair?" he asked without looking up.
"Uh—uh—5-0 Prolene?" Meredith guessed, flustered.
Jamie exhaled sharply. "No. That's for smaller arteries. This is high-pressure circulation—we need 6-0 Prolene for a fine, watertight repair."
The scrub nurse handed him the appropriate suture. Jamie moved quickly, placing a temporary vascular clamp just above the injury site to slow the bleeding without cutting off flow to the arm. With precise movements, he placed interrupted sutures along the arterial defect, securing the repair.
"Bailey, remove the clamp," Jamie ordered.
Bailey carefully released the clamp, and they watched as blood pulsed through the repaired artery.
"No active bleeding. Repair is holding," Jamie announced, satisfied.
Bailey, who had been watching Jamie work, realized that even after weeks of working with him, she still didn't know the full extent of his skill.
"Alright, Grey, now we can remove the rebar," Jamie said. "Tell me why."
Meredith took a breath, gathering herself. "Because we've secured vascular control, minimized the risk of sudden hemorrhage, and ruled out a major nerve injury."
"Correct," Jamie said, his tone slightly softer now. "Alright, let's do this carefully."
With a nod, Bailey and Jamie positioned themselves on either side of the rebar. He grasped it firmly near the entry wound while Bailey stabilized the patient's shoulder.
"Slow and steady," Jamie murmured, applying controlled traction.
The metal rod slid free, a slick layer of blood coating its surface.
"Pressure on the wound," Jamie said as he immediately inspected the cavity. "No further arterial damage. Lung tissue looks intact, but let's place a chest tube to be sure."
Meredith handed him the chest tube tray, still processing everything she had just witnessed.
Jamie positioned the tube and secured it, ensuring proper drainage. "Alright. Let's close."
As they sutured the incision, Jamie turned to Meredith. "Grey, you're going to write me a detailed report of this case. I want it by the end of the week. Every step, every complication, every lesson learned."
Meredith swallowed hard but nodded. "Yes, sir."
Bailey smirked slightly at Jamie. "I think you just gave her more homework than med school ever did."
Jamie pulled off his gloves, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "She needs to know how to do this right. Trauma surgery isn't about guessing—it's about knowing."
Bailey gave him a look before shaking her head, impressed.
----------------------------------------
Jamie scanned the chart as he made his way down the hall. Mr. Anthony Russo, a 62-year-old former construction foreman, was scheduled for double-valve replacement with coronary artery bypass grafting (CABG)—a high-risk, technically demanding surgery. Burke had been assigned the case, but with Webber pulling him from the OR, it now fell to Jamie.
He stepped into the room to find Anthony sitting upright in bed, his wife, Marie, standing beside him, her fingers gripping the edge of the tray table.
Jamie flashed a calm, confident smile. "Mr. Russo, Mrs. Russo—good morning. I'm Dr. Knight. I'll be performing your surgery today."
Anthony frowned slightly. "I thought Dr. Burke was handling my case?"
Jamie had expected that. Burke had a reputation. And patients trusted reputations.
"Dr. Burke had to step away for the time being," Jamie explained evenly. "But I assure you, you're in very capable hands."
Marie's eyes narrowed slightly. "And you've done this before?"
Jamie pulled the stool closer, sitting at eye level with Anthony. "Many times. Your case is complex—severe aortic stenosis, mitral regurgitation, and triple-vessel coronary disease. That's why we're replacing both valves and doing a bypass to restore proper blood flow to your heart." He glanced at Marie. "I won't sugarcoat this. It's a long surgery, and it carries risk. But we are your best shot. "
Anthony exhaled slowly, considering Jamie's words.
Jamie leaned forward slightly. "At the end of the day, you need a surgeon who can keep a steady hand under pressure. That's me."
Anthony exchanged a look with Marie before nodding. "Alright, Doc. I trust you."
Jamie gave a small nod. "That's all I need to hear."
He turned toward Cristina Yang, who stood beside him. "Dr. Yang will be assisting me today."
Cristina straightened slightly, her sharp gaze flicking between Jamie and the patient.
Marie sighed, rubbing Anthony's shoulder. "Okay. Just… bring him back to me."
Jamie's expression softened. "That's the plan."
----------------------------------------
The bright surgical lights illuminated the patient's open chest cavity, the steady rhythm of the monitors filling the OR. Jamie stood at the head of the table, his gloved hands steady as he assessed the exposed heart. Around him, the surgical team waited for his next move. Cristina stood across from him, eager, hands poised to assist. The nurses and techs, many of whom had worked with Burke before, watched him with wary curiosity.
Jamie didn't acknowledge it. He didn't need to. He was here to work.
"Scalpel," he said, his voice calm.
The scrub nurse placed the instrument into his waiting hand, and with a clean, decisive stroke, Jamie made the initial midline sternotomy, cutting through skin and subcutaneous tissue.
"Cautery," he requested next.
Cristina passed him the Bovie, and he used it to control bleeding as he worked through the layers. Once the sternum was exposed, he reached for the oscillating saw, positioning it carefully.
"Yang, take the other side," he instructed.
Cristina didn't hesitate. She guided the saw through bone, the fine mist of bone dust immediately suctioned away. Once complete, Jamie placed the sternal retractor, slowly spreading the ribcage apart to expose the pericardium.
There it was.
The heart lay before them, beating strong but struggling. Calcified, thickened valves. Distended chambers. A heart that had fought for too long.
"Heart's working too hard to compensate," Jamie murmured. "Let's get him on bypass."
He turned to anesthesia. "Status?"
"BP stable, 110 over 70," came the response.
"Good. Administer heparin, and let me know when ACT is therapeutic."
Cristina's eyes flicked toward him. "Heparinizing first?"
Jamie nodded. "Always. Avoids clot formation before we cannulate."
A moment later, the perfusionist confirmed anticoagulation was in effect. Jamie carefully inserted the aortic and venous cannulas, ensuring secure placement before turning back to the team.
"Going on bypass now," he announced.
With the heart-lung machine engaged, blood flow bypassed the heart.
Now, they had control.
Jamie placed the aortic cross-clamp, isolating the heart before instructing, "Cold cardioplegia in."
Within seconds, the heartbeat stilled.
He turned back to Cristina. "Alright, tell me what we're looking for."
"Aortic annulus size, leaflet integrity, degree of calcification," she answered immediately.
"Good. Now, what do we expect in a case like this?"
Cristina hesitated for just a second before responding, "Severe stenosis, high transvalvular gradients, limited leaflet mobility."
Jamie nodded in approval before making a careful incision into the aortic root, exposing the hardened, calcified valve.
"Completely stenotic," he observed. "No wonder he was struggling."
One by one, he carefully excised the thickened leaflets, ensuring complete removal before preparing the prosthetic valve.
"Size 23 valve," he instructed.
Cristina prepped the replacement as Jamie placed annular sutures, methodically ensuring a perfect fit. Once the prosthetic was seated, he carefully tied the sutures down, checking for any tension.
"Aortic valve in place," he announced. "Now onto the mitral."
Jamie shifted focus, making a careful incision through the left atrium to expose the mitral valve.
"Yang, what's our approach here?"
"Assess leaflet structure, annular dilation, and subvalvular apparatus," she said, watching closely.
Jamie examined the valve, his expression thoughtful. "Severe regurgitation. The annulus is dilated—we'll reinforce it before placing the prosthetic."
He carefully sutured an annuloplasty ring in place before securing the mitral valve replacement, ensuring a proper seal. Cristina assisted, handing him the needed sutures with efficiency.
Once complete, Jamie inspected the repair. No leaks. No tension. Perfect.
He began to close the left atrium—
Then, suddenly—
"BP dropping!" the anesthesiologist called out.
A gush of blood flooded the field.
Cristina's hands tensed. "We've got a bleeder!"
Jamie's eyes locked onto the circumflex artery, where a suture had nicked a vessel.
"Clamp," he ordered. "Suction!"
Cristina reacted immediately, keeping the field clear as Jamie worked.
"The artery's torn," he muttered, already anticipating his next move. "Yang, I need a 7-0 Prolene. Now."
Cristina passed him the suture in record time.
Jamie's hands moved with surgical precision, securing the arterial walls with perfectly placed microvascular stitches, preventing further hemorrhage.
"Hold pressure," he instructed. Cristina complied, and within seconds—
The bleeding stopped.
BP stabilized.
"Let's rewarm him," Jamie instructed.
Slowly, the perfusionist increased body temperature.
"Pacing wires in place. Taking him off bypass now."
The team waited as the heart quivered—then started beating again.
A strong, steady rhythm.
Cristina glanced up at the monitor, then back at Jamie. "That was… smooth."
Jamie exhaled. "It's what we do."
With the valves functioning properly, he worked with Cristina to close the sternum using stainless steel wires, ensuring stability before suturing the remaining layers.
As the final stitch was placed, Jamie stripped off his gloves, stepping back as the surgical team prepped the patient for post-op.
--------------------------------
Jamie stepped out of the OR, peeling off his surgical cap and running a hand through his damp hair. He glanced at the clock—noon. His stomach twisted in protest, reminding him that he hadn't eaten all day.
With George O'Malley's father's surgery scheduled soon, he knew this was his only window. He made his way to the cafeteria, grabbing a tray without much thought before scanning the room.
His eyes landed on Derek Shepherd, sitting alone at one of the corner tables, half-heartedly pushing food around on his plate. His usual self-assured demeanor was missing, replaced by a distant, distracted look.
Jamie narrowed his eyes. He'd seen that look before.
Walking over, he set his tray down across from Derek before sliding into the seat. Derek barely acknowledged him.
Jamie snapped his fingers in front of Derek's face. "Hey, Earth to Shepherd."
Derek blinked, looking up.
Jamie leaned forward, elbows on the table. "You look like someone who's overthinking."
Derek exhaled, setting his fork down. "It's nothing."
Jamie scoffed. "That's not a 'nothing' face. I know that face."
Derek sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw before finally muttering, "Conjoined twins."
Jamie's brow lifted slightly. "Conjoined twins?"
Derek nodded, sitting back. "Spines connected from L4 down. Their blood flow is intricately connected. Separating them is a high-risk, multi-stage procedure. We could end up with one, or both, paralyzed—or dead."
Jamie tilted his head. "You have a once-in-a-lifetime neurosurgical case, and you didn't think to tell me?"
Derek shot him a look.
Jamie frowned. "Too bad I have a full schedule today."
Derek gave a dry chuckle, shaking his head.
Jamie picked up his fork, taking a bite of his food before casually adding, "Record it."
Derek's hand paused on his coffee cup. "What?"
"The surgery," Jamie clarified. "Record it. I want to see it."
Derek frowned, clearly still lost in his thoughts. Jamie observed him for a second before setting his fork down.
"This is about Burke, isn't it?"
Derek didn't answer, but his silence was enough.
Jamie exhaled, leaning back in his chair. "Look, I get it. Burke hid his tremor. He made a mistake. But that doesn't mean you get to doubt yourself."
Derek's jaw tightened slightly, but he still didn't speak.
Jamie continued, his tone even but firm. "You're hesitating. And a surgeon who hesitates? Doesn't belong in an OR."
Derek's gaze flickered up to meet Jamie's, something shifting behind his eyes.
Jamie nodded once. "So, if you're gonna do this? Then do it. And if you're still unsure, don't step into that OR."
Derek studied him for a long moment before finally exhaling and shaking his head. "You always this confident?"
Jamie smirked slightly. "I have to be."
Derek gave a small chuckle, shaking his head. Then, with renewed focus, he picked up his fork and finally started eating.
Jamie took that as a win.
He checked the time—O'Malley's surgery was coming up. Time to get moving.
---------------------------------------
The old man in the hospital bed slept soundly, his soft snores the only noise from his side of the room. His vitals beeped rhythmically in the background, but the real conversation was happening in the chairs beside him—the interns' unofficial break room.
Izzie leaned against the window ledge, picking at a protein bar. "I think it's romantic. Two brothers fighting over the same woman."
Alex snorted, balancing a sandwich in one hand while flipping through a chart with the other. "You know what's freaky though? Conjoined twins having sex in front of the other one. How do you even do that?"
Meredith, sitting cross-legged in a chair, sighed. "Family is complicated."
Alex looked at Cristina, smirking. "You're still here. You haven't been kicked out of the program yet."
Meredith shot him a warning look. "Alex."
Cristina, unfazed, just shrugged. "Not yet. I'm still here."
Alex took a bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. "How'd you do it? I mean, did you have some sort of secret signal in surgery so that the nurses wouldn't know?"
Meredith's glare sharpened. "Alex—"
"What?" Alex raised an eyebrow. "I'm just wondering how to get ahead around here. Me? I fetch coffee for Sloan. Yang gets surgeries none of us would even touch."
George, slumped in the chair across from them, finally chimed in. "Got a headcount on how many patients you two have lied to in the past month?"
Meredith sighed. "George..."
Izzie straightened up, turning to him. "Leave her alone. Her patients lived, so she gets to scrub in."
Meredith shot her a look. "Izzie!"
Cristina, who had been quietly flipping through a surgical journal, finally spoke without looking up. "Grey, stop defending me."
There was a brief silence before Meredith exhaled, leaning back. "Fine. But you know what? I have my own problem right now."
Alex smirked. "You mean the 'Knight Report'?"
Meredith groaned. "Yes! Jamie wants a full detailed report on the trauma surgery I assisted him in. Every step, every complication, every correction—by the end of the week."
George chuckled. "Sounds like a lot of work."
"Yeah, well, I have actual patients to treat, too," Meredith muttered.
Cristina, still reading, didn't even look up. "Swallow it and learn."
Meredith frowned at her. "What?"
Cristina turned a page, voice completely serious. "Knight is a genius. As good as Burke. And he's barely 30."
Meredith scoffed. "You sound like you admire him."
Cristina finally glanced up, looking at Meredith like she was an idiot. "Of course I do. You should, too."
Meredith opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the intercom overhead crackled to life.
"Dr. Grey, report to the ER."
Meredith exhaled, standing up. "Great. Just what I needed."
As she grabbed her coffee, Alex called after her. "Hey, when you're done, ask Knight if I can be next on his homework list."
Meredith shot him a look before disappearing through the door.
Cristina smirked, flipping another page in her journal. "You wouldn't survive it, Karev."
Alex huffed. "Still doesn't hurt to try."
----------------------------------------------
George stood in the scrub room, arms tightly crossed, eyes fixed on the OR through the glass window. His stomach churned with nerves, but he couldn't tear himself away.
The sound of the door swinging open behind him made him glance over his shoulder.
Burke stepped inside, hands in the pockets of his scrubs. "I'm not supposed to be here."
George huffed out a quiet laugh. "Me either."
Burke nodded toward the window. "How's it going?"
George hesitated before answering. "They just started."
Inside the OR, Jamie and Hahn stood over his father, their hands already moving with precision.
"Scalpel," Hahn called, and the scrub nurse handed her the blade.
She made a clean incision down the center of Harold O'Malley's chest, cutting through skin and subcutaneous fat with practiced ease.
"Metz," Jamie requested next, receiving the Metzenbaum scissors to deepen the incision. He carefully separated tissue, minimizing trauma as much as possible.
Burke's voice was steady as he narrated, watching closely.
"She's through the sternum."
Hahn picked up the sternal saw, aligning it carefully before pressing down. The high-pitched whirr of the blade filled the OR as she split the sternum open with smooth precision.
George flinched slightly, looking away.
"There's a bit of bleeding."
Jamie immediately stepped in, applying bone wax to the exposed marrow to staunch the slow, steady trickle of blood. His movements were quick but controlled, as if second nature.
Hahn glanced at him, satisfied. "Retractor."
The scrub nurse handed her the sternal retractor, and she gently pulled the rib cage apart. The chest cavity widened, exposing the beating heart.
"Opening the pericardial sac," Burke continued. "They're looking at the echo now."
Jamie used delicate forceps to grasp the pericardium, the thin membrane surrounding the heart. With a small incision, he opened the sac, revealing Harold O'Malley's failing heart.
Hahn and Jamie took a moment to assess the field, watching the real-time echocardiogram on the monitor.
Hahn gave a short nod. "Looks good. Sutures."
Jamie began placing the stay sutures, securing the pericardium back for better visibility.
Burke continued narrating for George, his voice calm and even.
"They're preparing to go on bypass."
Hahn turned toward the perfusionist. "Anticoagulation confirmed?"
"ACT is at 480," the perfusionist replied, confirming that Harold's blood was thin enough to prevent clotting during bypass.
Jamie reached for the cannulas. "Alright, let's place the aortic and venous cannulas."
With steady hands, Jamie inserted the large venous cannula into the right atrium, ensuring that blood could be diverted from the heart into the bypass machine. He secured it quickly, nodding to Hahn.
She took over, placing the aortic cannula into the ascending aorta, creating a circuit for the oxygenated blood to be returned to the body.
"Cannulas are in. Bypass time," Jamie called.
The perfusionist slowly engaged the heart-lung machine, taking over circulation and oxygenation. Within moments, Harold's heart was still.
George swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the counter.
"They're cross-clamping the aorta now," Burke said.
Jamie carefully applied the aortic cross-clamp, preventing blood flow to the heart so the surgical team could safely replace the valve.
"Cardioplegia in."
A cold potassium-rich solution was perfused into the coronary arteries, stopping the heart completely to allow for a bloodless field.
Hahn inspected the heart closely. "Alright, let's open the aorta."
Jamie picked up the scalpel again, making a precise incision into the ascending aorta.
The weakened aortic valve came into view, its leaflets thickened and fibrotic from years of regurgitation.
Hahn studied it for a moment before speaking. "Severe aortic regurgitation, just as we expected. No way to repair—valve replacement is the only option."
Jamie nodded, already reaching for the next set of instruments. "Resecting the native valve."
He used a fine Metzenbaum scissors to excise the thickened valve leaflets, cutting them away from the annulus. Carefully, he removed the diseased valve, leaving only the open aortic root.
Burke continued his quiet narration. "They're replacing the valve now."
Jamie picked up the sizer, carefully measuring the annulus to ensure the replacement valve would fit perfectly.
"23 mm prosthetic valve," he called. The scrub nurse handed him the appropriate bioprosthetic valve.
Hahn began placing the annular sutures, passing fine 2-0 Ethibond through the aortic annulus in a circular pattern, securing the prosthetic valve into place.
Jamie followed with meticulous precision, reinforcing each stitch with pledgeted sutures to ensure stability.
Once all sutures were placed, he and Hahn carefully seated the new valve into the annulus.
Jamie held the prosthetic in position as Hahn systematically tied each suture, ensuring the valve was securely anchored.
"Valve is seated. Let's close the aortotomy."
Jamie reached for the 4-0 Prolene suture, working in tandem with Hahn to carefully close the incision in the aorta.
Burke spoke softly in the scrub room. "They're almost done. Just the final checks now."
Hahn turned to Jamie. "Time to rewarm."
Jamie adjusted the perfusion settings, slowly increasing the patient's body temperature back to normal levels.
The perfusionist nodded. "Rewarming initiated. Weaning off bypass in five minutes."
Jamie kept his eyes on the heart monitor, watching for any rhythm abnormalities as circulation was restored.
The moment of truth.
Cristina carefully removed the aortic cross-clamp, allowing blood to once again flow through the newly implanted valve.
Jamie and Hahn both watched closely as the heart restarted, its rhythm returning gradually to normal sinus.
Burke murmured to George. "His heart's beating on its own now."
Inside the OR, Jamie checked the suture line for any signs of bleeding or leakage.
Hahn was satisfied. "Looks good. No leaks."
Jamie exhaled slightly, tension easing from his shoulders. "Aortic repair holding. Valve function looks excellent."**
Hahn nodded. "Alright, let's close."
Cristina and Jamie worked quickly to close the chest, reapproximating the sternum with stainless steel wires.
Once the final sutures were placed, the team stepped back, watching as Harold's vitals remained stable.
George let out a shaky breath, his hands still gripping the scrub sink.
Burke turned to him. "Dr. Hahn's and Dr. Knight's work was impeccable, O'Malley. I wouldn't have done anything different myself."
George swallowed, nodding slowly. "But…?"
Burke sighed, his gaze flickering back to the glass. "You never know how the body is going to respond. Every surgery, every patient is different. You just… never know. But it's okay now. He's stable."
George exhaled, the tension finally slipping from his frame.
"Thank you, Dr. Burke."
---------------------------------------
Jamie stripped off his gloves, exhaling as he glanced at the monitors one last time. Vitals: stable. Valve: functioning perfectly. The surgery had gone as well as it could, a textbook aortic valve replacement—if anything about open-heart surgery could be called textbook.
Hahn stepped back from the table, stretching her shoulders before pulling off her gloves. She watched Jamie for a beat before speaking.
"Knight, stick around for a second."
Jamie arched a brow but didn't protest, tossing his gloves into the bin before turning to face her.
Hahn gave him an assessing look, like she was trying to figure something out. "You ever get tired of being the most overqualified guy in the room?"
Jamie huffed a quiet laugh. "You planning to insult me or compliment me, Hahn? I can't tell."
She smirked. "That depends on your answer."
Jamie leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Alright. I'll bite. What's this about?"
Hahn exhaled, pulling off her surgical cap. "Seattle Presbyterian is always looking for top talent. And let's be honest, you're not just good—you're damn good. That was one of the smoothest valve replacements I've seen in years, and you were supposed to just be assisting."
Jamie tilted his head slightly. "You're trying to recruit me?"
Hahn shrugged. "I'm just saying—you're wasting your time here. Seattle Grace doesn't even have a trauma department, and you're out here running the ER like it's a war zone. Meanwhile, they're making you jump through hoops just to prove you belong. At Pres, you'd already have your own team."
Jamie smiled, shaking his head. "And you think I'd just walk away from this place?"
Hahn crossed her arms. "I think you're ambitious. And I think you're smart enough to know when you're being underutilized."
Jamie let out a slow breath, considering her words.
"You're right."
Hahn looked slightly surprised. "I am?"
Jamie nodded. "Yeah. I know exactly what I'm worth. And I know that if I wanted a cushy job with a fully equipped department, I'd already have one." He took a step closer, lowering his voice slightly. "But here's the thing—I don't want easy. I don't need a hospital that's already built. I want to build one myself."
Hahn studied him for a long moment, and for the first time, Jamie saw something close to respect in her expression.
"Alright," she finally said. "Then I guess I'll just have to keep trying."
Jamie chuckled. "You can try, Hahn. But I'm not going anywhere."
She smirked. "We'll see."
With that, she turned and walked out, leaving Jamie standing in the OR, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Seattle Grace might not have a trauma department yet.
But soon, they would.
--------------------------------
Jamie pushed through the hospital doors, the cool night air hitting him immediately. He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders, the weight of the day still lingering in his muscles.
As he stepped out onto the pavement, he spotted Meredith, Cristina, Burke, and Derek standing near the entrance.
For a brief second, no one spoke. Then, as if on cue, Burke and Derek turned toward the elevator.
Derek glanced at Meredith before saying, "Burke wants the surgery. I'm going to check him. Don't wait up."
Cristina followed Burke inside, the elevator doors sliding shut with a quiet ding.
Jamie shook his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Figures."
He stepped down off the curb, ready to leave, when he heard footsteps behind him.
"Knight," Meredith called.
He turned slightly, watching as she caught up to him, her arms crossed against the evening chill. They stood side by side for a moment, the silence stretching between them.
Jamie glanced at her and nodded. "Night, Grey."
He started walking again, but before he could get far—
"Jamie."
He paused, turning back.
Meredith shifted on her feet before meeting his gaze. "I just wanted to say thank you. For taking the time to teach."
Jamie tilted his head slightly, studying her. Then, a slow smirk formed. "Listen, I am not Mark Sloan, that manwh*re, ordering the interns to get him coffee."
Meredith blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
Jamie continued without missing a beat. "And you? You're Derek's bed bunny. So if I don't teach you anything, I'm never gonna hear the end of it."
Meredith let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
Jamie shrugged. "That's what they tell me."
He gave her one last look before walking toward his car, hands in his pockets, leaving Meredith standing there, still smiling to herself.
And with that, Jamie disappeared into the night.
---------------------------------------
Jamie sank into the driver's seat, exhaling as he leaned his head back against the headrest. It had been a long day—surgeries, Webber's expectations, dealing with Burke's mess, and an entire trauma case dumped on him. But now? Now, he could finally go home.
He had just reached for the ignition when his phone buzzed.
Jamie glanced at the screen, and the corner of his mouth lifted.
Lexie.
He let it ring for a second before answering.
"Hey, Bambi."
There was a pause on the other end before she answered. "Oh—um, hi. Uh. It's me. Obviously. Hi."
Jamie smirked, shaking his head slightly. "Yeah, I gathered."
Lexie let out a nervous laugh, then quickly continued. "I—uh, I just wanted to call. To say we landed. Safe and sound. No plane crashes, no fiery explosions. Very smooth."
Jamie arched a brow. "We?"
"Oh! Yeah, my dad came with me. Just for a couple of days. He wanted to help me look for apartments for when I finish college. You know, dad stuff."
Jamie hummed, starting the car as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot. "Smart man. Boston's not exactly cheap."
"Right? That's what I told him! But he insisted on coming, like I'm incapable of adulting or something. I mean, granted, I still can't properly fold a fitted sheet, but—"
Jamie chuckled, the tension of the day starting to ease. "That's concerning. Very concerning."
"Shut up." She huffed, but he could hear the smile in her voice. "Anyway. How was your day, Doctor Knight?"
Jamie let out a slow breath. "Exhausting. Multiple trauma cases, had to take over some of Burke's surgeries, got roped into handling hospital politics. But…" He glanced at the phone, his voice dropping slightly. "It's really nice to hear your voice after all that."
Lexie went silent for a beat, then let out a nervous laugh. "Oh. Wow. That was—unexpectedly smooth. Are you always like this?"
Jamie smirked. "Like what?"
"Like… that." She struggled for words. *"All—charming."
Jamie hummed, clearly enjoying her flustered state. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Ugh, shut up." She groaned. "I take it back. I hope you starve without me."
Jamie chuckled. "I had eggs this morning, thanks to you. I survived."
"Barely."
Jamie could hear the warmth in her voice, the way her dorky awkwardness made everything feel lighter. They talked for a while—about her flight, her dad's overprotectiveness, how apartment hunting was already proving to be a nightmare. Jamie found himself actually relaxing, the tension in his shoulders loosening just by listening to her.
Eventually, Lexie sighed. "I should probably go. My dad's giving me the dad look, which means he's about to say something embarrassing."
Jamie smirked, already amused. "I'd pay good money to hear that."
"Yeah, no, not happening."
Jamie chuckled, then his voice softened. "Take care, Bambi."
Lexie hesitated for half a second before responding. "You too, Jamie. Goodnight."
The call ended, and for a moment, Jamie just sat there.
Then, he shook his head, exhaling through his nose as he tossed his phone onto the passenger seat.
Damn.
She was dangerous.