Rules are created for a reason. They're made to set boundaries, create lines, to keep us all from doing things that are wrong. We know not to cross the lines, to stay on the path, because otherwise bad things happen.
If we know the consequences, then why do we get such a kick out of crossing the line?
Emma sighed, staring at her bedroom ceiling. She needed to get out of bed—she had a surgery scheduled in a little over an hour. She still needed a shower, to eat, and meet the newest bunch of interns. It was that time of the year, a new influx of interns, meaning a whole new set of little ducklings to train. They'd technically be assigned to residents, but since residents were attached to the attendings, it was inevitable.
She knew it was time to move when her cellphone let out its generic ringtone. She felt around her bed for wherever it had disappeared into during the night until her hand gripped it. She read the ID and hurriedly answered it.
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"Hello? Is something wrong?" Had something happened?
"Hi, Dr. Swan. Is this a bad time?" The lady's voice was calm, so that slightly reassured Emma.
She sat up in bed as she spoke. "You're fine. What do you need?"
"I just wanted to confirm that you'll be joining us Sunday at six. I know your schedule can change suddenly."
"Uh, Sunday, yes." She stood up, went into the bathroom, and turned on the shower. "I will be there. If anything comes up, I'll inform you as soon as possible."
"Okay. You have a wonderful day, Doctor."
"You too." She hung up the phone and got ready.
By the time she reached the hospital, her mixed feelings about the phone call had all but vanished. She snatched another of coffee before finally swinging around to the O.R. board.
Lucas was her scheduled 5th-year resident for her morning surgery. Which meant whatever interns she got were automatically Emma's for a couple hours. None would be participating, only observing, but even knowing they were there kind of set her on edge.
"Dr. Swan!" Mary Margaret walked over to her, a patient chart held to her chest. "Ready for the ducklings?"
"Not particularly," she answered, biting down on a pen.
The dark-haired woman side-eyed her. "You were one once too, Emma. And now you're a beautiful swan." She giggled to herself, and Emma held back a groan. If she heard that joke one more time… "This batch is a highly skilled group. A large chunk came from Ivy League schools."
"The cost of your college doesn't determine if you're a good doctor." Having gone to state school, Emma sympathized with those who couldn't afford Dartmouth or Stanford. She was the best damn general surgeon in the state, and she had a "lowly" education. "And it has nothing to do with them being interns, necessarily. It's their eagerness—they want cool surgeries, to crack someone's chest open, but they don't think about the rest of it."
"I know," she agreed quietly. "But that is what we're here for. Lucas is scrubbing in with you today?"
Emma nodded. "That's right. Don't let her know, but she's my favorite resident."
Mary Margaret gave a small smile. "Something tells me she already knows. Anyway, she'll be here any second. Remember to be nice!" She practically skipped away.
It wasn't even 30 seconds later when Emma could hear Lucas instructing her group in the proper way to wake someone up for pre-rounds as she came down the hall. Once she finished the lecture, she turned to Emma with a smile. "This is Dr. Swan; she's our attending general surgeon. I'm scrubbing in for a kidney transplant with her today, and you will all stand in the back of the O.R. and observe only. Questions may be asked, but do so sparingly."
"Dr. Swan?" one of the interns, a petite blonde with an accent, questioned. "As in Emma Swan?" She nodded, hiding the fact that she liked being recognized. "Your research on genome mapping is amazing!"
She smiled. While her research was published and had become popular in the medical world, she didn't like to talk about it much, since it usually led to personal questions. "Thank you. Let's go check up on the patient." They all scrambled behind her. Her graceful walk and the power in her stance intimidated them, she knew, and that was the goal. She needed to remind them who held the power here.
They arrived at the room. "Hey, Aurora. How are you feeling?"
The brunette smiled kindly at her. She wore personal purple pajamas instead of the standard hospital gown. As a frequent flyer of the hospital, she and her wife were always prepared for another visit. "Tired. I'm ready for this surgery to start."
"I completely understand." Emma gestured to the group of young doctors. "These are our interns, and they'll be presenting your case, and one of them will prep you and get you down to pre-op for surgery. Who would like to present?" They should've memorized her chart from pre-rounds.
There were a few moments of silence before a deep, British voice spoke from the back. "Aurora Somno, 24. She is in stage IV kidney failure and has been on dialysis for three years. She is currently a 1A candidate for an organ from U.N.O.S. Today she will be undergoing a kidney transplant."
Emma peeked around the pack of people to see who spoke. The man was older than the rest of them, ridiculously handsome, and pulled off scrubs better than he should have. He had black hair, scruff growing on his face, and piercing blue eyes. Emma almost couldn't believe he was an intern. Interns weren't supposed to be attractive.
"Thank you, Doctor…?"
"Jones." He gave her a cheeky smile. "But you can call me Killian."
She rolled her eyes and turned back to her patient. "I've explained to you the possible complications both during and after surgery. Dr. Jones here will prep you. I'll see you in the operating room." Emma gave Aurora's hand one last squeeze and exited the room. The herd followed her out. "Lucas, I'll meet you in the O.R. Make sure your intern doesn't screw this up. She's been a long time patient of mine, so I don't need any rookie mistakes."
Emma spoke to Aurora again when they met in O.R. 2. "Hey, sweetie, how are you feeling? Did Dr. Jones do a good job?" She stole a look at the man in question. He was glancing around the room, taking in the lights, the instruments, in general awe. He almost looked like a puppy. An adorable, attractive p— No. She shook her head to clear it.
"He was wonderfully charming. He kept talking you up as if you haven't been my doctor for three years." The woman smiled at her.
"That is weird, considering I only met him a couple of hours ago."
Aurora looked at her thoughtfully. "Emma, I would be lying if I said you weren't attractive." Emma raised an eyebrow at the statement. "If I weren't married, I would definitely ask you out. And I'm not even a doctor. Now add your doctor-y accomplishments to your physical attractiveness. It's a wonder more interns don't throw themselves at you."
She bent down so the two were at eye-level. "Aurora, this isn't appropriate conversation to have with your doctor."
"True, but you're also my friend. I'm just saying! Take advantage of it; go get some from the hot intern. You need a little tension rubbed out, and what better way than someone who is desperate to be in your good graces?"
"Aurora, hush!" If she got any louder, that hot intern would most definitely overhear and then get ideas. "The anesthesiologist is going to put you under now. I'll see you after." Dr. Locksley put the mask on her, and after only a few moments she was out.
Emma stepped back and gave a smile to the room. "All right, everybody. Let's save a life."
Killian swallowed the rest of his drink, downing it in one quick motion. A lot of the hospital staff was here, since the bar was right across the street. There were a lot of cliques around the room—groups of interns, 2nd-years, orthopedic surgeons, and then there were a few mixed groups. He spotted Dr. Swan sitting with the Chief and Dr. Lucas.
Lucas was animatedly telling a story with her hands, and Swan laughed, almost snorting her drink. Her laugh was like sunshine, lighting up the room. She wasn't one for smiling. He'd noticed that throughout the day. She only smiled around patients, and he could never tell if it was for show or if she genuinely connected with them.
But with his resident, she was radiant. Her smile was absolutely gorgeous. Red lips pulled back to reveal pearly whites, smile lines filling her face, and he wanted to be the cause of it. Despite being an intern, he felt he had a chance. If you threw away the hospital power structure, they would be perfectly equal in attractiveness, this he knew.
All he had to do was make her forget that she was his superior. Distract her, dazzle her; it couldn't be too difficult, could it?
He ordered another drink and went over to the three women. "Hello," he greeted, putting on his most charming smile. "May I sit with you?"
Lucas returned the flirty smile. "Sure." Oh, she was attractive, and maybe he would have, but he was already dead set on the stubborn blonde.
"How are you? Was your first day exciting?" Chief Blanchard asked. "I heard you observed Dr. Swan's kidney transplant."
"I did, I did," he responded. His hooded eyes glanced at said woman, and he noticed she was looking very purposely at the table. He looked back at the Chief. "It was amazing. You watch recordings, you practice on cadavers, but there is nothing quite like observing a surgery firsthand."
The Chief smiled. "It really is amazing—that rush. Just wait until you scrub in on one. Do you know whose service you're on tomorrow?"
"Um…" He glanced at Lucas with a raised eyebrow.
"Dr. Mills's," she answered for him. She leaned toward him. "That's our head of cardio. Fair warning though—you won't be doing anything involving actual surgery for a while with her. She's very picky about who she takes under her wing."
"I've heard her reputation. It's not the kindest."
"Leave her alone," Emma mumbled. The other three looked at her. Emma straightened her spine and stared them down. "She hasn't had the easiest time, okay? Kindness and trust aren't things you just hand off when you've been betrayed in the past. She just wants to make sure whoever she takes isn't going to bolt or decide on something different." They all stared at her in silence. She began fidgeting, and went back to glaring at the table. "Just…leave her be, okay?"
Conversation was awkward after that. After a few minutes, Emma stood up. "I'm sorry, but I have to head home. I've got back-to-back surgeries scheduled for tomorrow. I'll see you." She stood up, taking her purse.
He took a moment to admire her full form. She wore a black-and-white sleeveless polka dot dress, with black heels, revealing her toned legs, arms, and shoulders. Her ponytail left the nape of her neck exposed, tantalizing flesh, and he wanted to attach his lips to it. He wanted to run his hands down her side, down to her thigh, and bunch up the fabric until it rested at her waist—
He hurried after her. "Dr. Swan, please stay for a bit longer. One more drink?"
She hesitated. "I—I really can't, I have things to do—"
"One drink," he interrupted, a hopeful smile on his face. "It won't kill you. It'll definitely help you sleep."
She chewed on her lip. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt too much." She followed him to the bar, where he ordered rum. He made a gesture to the bartender. "I'll have a screwdriver, please."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Vodka? I took you for a margarita type of woman."
"Then you read me wrong." She thanked the bartender and took a sip of her drink. "Don't get me wrong, though. I love fruity drinks."
He feigned being hurt, putting his hand on his chest. "Oh, Swan, you wound me. Fruity drinks are frilly. Why would you enjoy them?"
She took a larger swallow this time, her eyes slightly hardening at the challenging tone of his voice. "Those frilly drinks have more alcohol than beer, and usually a mix of more than one. They're ten times as awesome as straight whiskey, or rum." She smiled. "Don't knock them 'til you try them. In fact…Granny, can you please get Dr. Jones here a martini? Surprise him on the details."
"Coming right up," Granny replied, flashing a smirk at Killian.
"Do what you will, Swan. I can mount any challenge." He could tell the innuendo wasn't lost on her. Granny set the drink down, and Emma gestured to it. He stared at it for a moment before picking it up and chugging it down. A second later, he regretted that. "Holy hell, Swan. What kind of bloody alcohol is in that?"
"Gin and vermouth. Granny also put some lemon in it, which is standard and also interchangeable with olive." She shrugged her shoulders. "I tried to tell you. It's also really not a drink for chugging. It's meant to be enjoyed."
Their banter continued for another solid hour. More doctors left while the night crowd rolled in. When 1am came around, Killian decided now was the time to make his move. Between the two glasses of rum and the martini, he felt extremely confident.
"So, Swan…" he began, boldly placing his hand on her thigh. "What do you say we get out of here, go back to your place?"
Her eyes widened, indecision in her eyes. "Jones, I'm your superior. There may not be strict rules about it, but—"
"To hell with the rules." He surged forward and captured her lips with his. It only took a moment for her to kiss him back, placing her hands on the side of his neck. He wound his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her in deeper. They moved in sync, their lips flowing like ocean waves, back and forth, each motion as powerful as the last. He spoke when they finally separated. "So, your place?"
She nodded, standing up and grabbing her purse. "My car is out front."
Emma drove as fast as she dared to. Her house wasn't even a full ten minutes from the bar. Killian kept his hand planted firmly on her thigh, rubbing his thumb back in forth. It was hard to think clearly with him distracting her like that.
When they pulled up to her house, he followed her to glass front door. She got her keys out and was putting them in the door while his lips skimmed her neck and his hands caressed her waist. She shoved the key into the lock, throwing open the door, and dragging that sinful man inside.
She shoved him back against the door. Her hands roamed his body desperately—she could physically feel her need for him, and it was eating away at her. He felt it too, creeping its way through his body, his soul. They clawed at each other, monsters yanking at flesh with sharp teeth.
"Slow down, love," he whispered, anchoring her down with hands to her hips. He dug his fingers in at the flesh there and she let out a moan. "There is no need to rush anything." He placed his hand at the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a slow, tantalizing kiss. They were both breathing heavily.
Emma smiled when they parted and began to back up, her hand locked in his. They walked up to her room, up the stairs, second door on the right.
"Why aren't you in the master bedroom?" he inquired.
She looked away, letting go of his hand. "No reason. Let's do this." She reached behind herself to undo her dress, but he rushed up behind her first. He undid the zipper, letting his finger slide down her spine as he did. She turned around abruptly, letting the dress fall down, and tilted her head. "Do you want to stand on the sidelines, or do you want to do? Because I can and will start without you." She pulled her hair out of its band, blonde curls bouncing free.
Killian almost dropped his jaw. "As you wish, milady." He took off his clothes, jacket first, then shirt, pants, leaving him just in his boxers. "Get on the bed," he commanded, his voice going deeper.
Emma smiled and got on the bed, turning and lying on her back. He crawled on top of her. He kissed up her stomach all the way up to her neck, where he buried himself there, biting into her skin. She let out a loud moan. He snaked his arms around her arched back and unhooked her bra. After throwing it on the floor, he caught a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it. His hand tweaked the other. Her hand found their way to his hair, pulling on it.
He began moving down, and Emma's breathing hitched. He pulled her panties down her body, tossing them aside, before coming face-to-face with her sex. He licked up her slit, making her writhe, and attaching his mouth to her clit. He sucked, hard, and pushed a single finger into her. She cried out, yanking on his hair again. As she opened up, he added another finger, pumped faster, and circled his tongue around her clit until she climaxed, screaming his name in ecstasy.
"Oh, god," she panted, body heaving. Killian felt proud for undoing someone so uptight. She locked eyes with him. "Come up here." He did, and she kissed him harshly, wrapping her arms around his neck. She slowly flipped them so she was on top, running her nails through her chest hair. She practically ripped his boxers off. She leaned over once they were on the floor, reaching into the nightstand and revealing a condom. "Are you ready?"
He nodded. She tore the foil and rolled it onto him. He groaned at the contact. He was ready to explode, but he was determined to hold it back until she came again. Using his chest as an anchor, she guided him into her, sliding her heat onto him. They both moaned as they joined together.
He let her have a moment before he thrusted up into her gently. She shook her head slightly and placed both of her hands on his chest, and began rocking back and forth on him. It was slow at first, easing into it, but she soon got frantic, grinding herself on him with impatience. He moved to rub at her clit. "I-I'm almost there again," she huffed.
With that, he flipped the two back over, sliding back into her. He began pounding into her with fervor, rubbing at her clit, until they were both falling over the edge, each other's names on their lips, crying out from pure pleasure.
He stayed inside her a few minutes after until he could catch his breath. When he pulled out, he flopped next to her, and tossed the condom into a nearby trashcan.
He looked over at her. She was staring at the ceiling. She noticed the staring and glanced over. She laughed lightly and said, "I hope you agree that that was not a one time thing."