AN: Hello everyone! I found this pairing but not much fanfiction for it, so I wrote this piece. It was supposed to be just a oneshot, but as usual it evolved into something a little bigger. I'm almost done with the third (and probably last) chapter at this point. It's unfortunately unbeta-ed, all mistakes are mine, but I hope there aren't too many of them :p

Trigger Warnings for medical condition and medical procedures (not explicit, but some needles and blood).

DISCLAIMERS!
- I do not own any of the shows, or their characters, or their storylines.
- I do not have any professional medical education, all my info comes from the internet or from personal/friends' experiences

If you think anything is incorrect, medically, feel free to PM me! I've learned so much writing this story and I'm willing to learn more! ;)

Dr. Allison Cameron, specialist in immunology

"Dr. Zambrano?"

There's concern in Proctor's voice and Eva shifts her gaze from the patient on the operating table to meet her colleague's worried eyes.

"Are you feeling well?"

She's not. She's been feeling tired and weak lately and it's only getting worse. Probably because she's having trouble sleeping and barely ever has any time to cook. Or eat, for that matter. She used to manage a little free time but work has now completely taken over her life.

"Not exactly," she admits with a frown, resisting her urge to claim that she's fine.

"Well, until you are, why don't you go wait outside?"

Proctor's tone is firm and doesn't invite to objection, so Eva swallows her pride and steps away from the patient. Performing surgery requires a clear and focused mind – something she's currently lacking – and it's not responsible to continue.

She heaves a sigh and pulls off her stained gloves, scrubbing out. It's one of those days. One of those days when her colleagues give her concerned looks and repeatedly asks if she's okay. One of those days when she fails to reassure them that it's nothing, she's just tired.

She sits down on the closest bench and buries her face in her hands, feeling miserable. This is how Proctor finds her, about forty minutes later, and he settles beside her, his expression thoughtful.

"Are you still stubbornly claiming that this is nothing?" he asks calmly, without looking at her.

Eva sits upright and turns toward him. She feels better now but she knows she'll have to be careful when she stands up again. It's not nothing, but it's trivial. She's just a little overworked. It's no big deal. It happens when your week hours average 80 for too long.

"This is the third time this week you've had to leave during surgery," the doctor beside her states matter-of-factly when she doesn't reply, "and the second time today."

"I know!" she snaps, and immediately regrets her sudden outburst of irritation.

It's not like her to lose her temper, not even the slightest. She's usually very well composed. Letting out a sigh she closes her eyes briefly.

"I know," she says more softly. "I'm sorry, it's just that everyone keeps bugging me about it. I know I'm not tiptop at the moment but I'm really just tired. Everything else is fine."

"So, take the night off," he offers, or rather, orders. "Go home, sleep in your own bed, no calls, and if that doesn't help you really should go see a doctor."

He's looking at her now, steadily meeting her gaze, and there's a twinkle in his eye. She gives him a look of feigned gravity.

"You know that I am a doctor, right?"

"What? No way! I had no idea," he plays along. "Perhaps you could examine yourself then, or how does that work?"

There's an authentic hint of seriousness in his voice and Eva gives him a half smile.

"If I promise to have it checked, will you let me stay tonight and do my job?" she tries.

He pretends to think deeply about this before shaking his head.

"Nope, you're still going home. We'll call someone else in to cover for you," he declares and prepares to leave.

Great, so now she's officially useless. Proctor notices her crestfallen look and turns to face her again, putting his hands reassuringly on her shoulders.

"I don't have to give you a speech, do I? You know you're a valued member of the team, when you're not looking like you might end up next to our patient on the operating table."

She shifts awkwardly and casts down her eyes.

"I wouldn't have," she mumbles, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"Anyway," he says and straightens. "See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

She watches his retreating backside, still feeling rather useless. But enough self-pitying, she admonishes, and stretches her legs and arms a bit before standing, just to be safe.

After changing into her street clothes she exits the big trauma facility and gets into her car, deciding to make use of her extra time off to stop by Walmart on her way home. She can barely remember last time she had fresh greens in her fridge and she used to be so careful to eat properly. Tonight she will be having real dinner.

The store is annoyingly noisy, though, and the headache she's been struggling with for the last couple of weeks strikes full force. Why does half the town seem to have had the same idea as her? The weakness makes itself known again and she wishes she had driven straight home instead.

"Perfect," she mutters as she looks around for a place to sit down or at least get away from some of all these people. "Just perfect..."

She heads for one of the less visited aisles but her vision is starting to get blurry and her body is becoming awfully numb. Deep breaths, she reminds herself and tightens her grip of the handle of her shopping cart. As soon as she gets to the calmer area – sewing articles, apparently – she stops and tucks her head down to help the blood flow to her brain. She curses silently in Spanish, knowing full well what's going on and what she should be doing – she is a doctor, after all – but she refuses, she's not gonna-

"Excuse me, Ma'am, are you alright?"

Oh, great, someone has noticed her. Can this get any worse? Well, of course it can! The concerned female voice happens to belong to an exceptionally pretty brunette and Eva gets to admire this masterful creation of God for three whole seconds before black dots start to invade her vision, reminding her that she still needs to breathe. But it's not helping. Her ears are filled with a quickly increasing buzzing noise and it's inevitable now, there's nothing she can do. She regrets looking up.

"I'm gonna faint," she manages to mumble out in sudden realization, and it's partly a simple statement and partly a plea for help.

"Okay," she hears the other woman say somewhere far into the distance. "Why don't you sit down and-"

Next thing she knows she's on her back, looking up at a section of multi-coloured yarn and briefly wondering how, exactly, she ended up there.

"Welcome back."

Eva turns her head toward the speaker and of course it's the pretty brunette, half kneeling, half crouching, and keeping Eva's useless legs elevated to a considerate height above the ground.

Oh God, this is beyond embarrassing.

On top of everything she notices an increasing number of spectators and could she melt into a puddle and evaporate right there and then, she would.

"What's your name?" the other woman asks.

"Eva."

"Okay, Eva, do you have any known medical condition? Like diabetes, or-"

"No, nothing like that," she quickly assures. "I'm fine, I'm just...tired."

She realizes how stupid it sounds – taken that she's lying flat on the floor – and almost groans in frustration.

"So tired you decided to take a nap in my arms? Wow, you must be really tired."

Eva chuckles weakly and brings her hand up to cover her face. Under other circumstances she would probably be blushing but her cheeks haven't quite regained their usual color yet.

"I really did that, huh? I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I might just have saved you from a traumatic brain injury," the other woman says with a wink.

In other words, a concussion, Eva translates, not particularly impressed. Who talks like that anyway?

"Are you a doctor or something?" she asks her apparent savior, who smiles.

"I am, actually," she confirms. "Dr. Allison Cameron, pleased to meet you, specialist in immunology and usually not doing fieldwork like this."

"Fieldwork?" Eva snorts out. "Well, that's one way to put it. Speaking of putting, I think you can put my legs down now."

"Are you sure?" Dr. Allison Cameron, specialist in immunology and usually not doing fieldwork like this, asks with a frown. "You're still looking pretty pale."

"If you're complaining about my lack of a tan I'll tell you that not everyone in this area has the luxury of being able to spend all day out in the sun."

She chuckles at this but does lower Eva's legs down and scoots closer to her face.

"Fair enough. Work?"

"Mhm," Eva nods.

Work indeed. Too much of it.

"I was not feeling well so they forced me to go home. Guess I didn't make it all the way there..."

The woman beside her gets an all serious expression and scrutinizes her from head to toe.

"Do you have any idea of why you passed out?"

Eva swallows visibly.

"Well, I've only really had breakfast and a snack today," she mumbles, embarrassed. "So on top of being sleep deprived and overworked I may also have added dehydration and low blood sugar to the mix."

"Sounds like you're aware of the stress you're putting on your body, but you're not doing anything about it," the younger doctor concludes, narrowing her eyes before she stands and grabs something from Eva's shopping cart. "Eat."

Eva hesitantly accepts the bright red apple she's offered and slowly turns it in her hand, looking for flaws she knows aren't there. She only picked good ones.

"I haven't paid for this yet," she points out, but starts pushing herself up to a sitting position regardless and allows the other woman to assist her.

"I think they'll manage."

"But it's still wrong. I should pay for it first."

"Listen, Eva, you're my patient now, and as your doctor I order you to eat that apple. The sooner the better."

Eva purses her lips, unsure of how she feels about being bossed around by someone who looks half a decade younger than herself. It's not too bad, though. Almost endearing, actually. She probably shouldn't spoil the moment by telling the younger brunette she's not the only one with a degree here.

"Fine, Doctor Cameron," she says instead, calmly and with extra emphasis on the honorific.

The apple tastes like forbidden fruit, wrong but delicious, and as on cue a store employee suddenly shows up. Eva chews guiltily as he approaches but the boy has a lost look on his face and barely seems old enough to be working there. When he's close enough she reads his nametag, which says 'Henry'.

"Ladies, err, what-what's going on here?" he stutters, fidgeting with his hands.

Dr. Cameron effectively informs him what has happened and sends him to fetch some water, then she turns to the small crowd Eva is trying to pretend isn't there and tells them everything is under control and that they may continue with their shopping. Only a few curious people are reluctant to leave, the last one being an old lady claiming she used to faint all the time when she was young.

"Turned out I was with child," she gravely discloses. "You should go have that checked up."

The lady is just trying to help and Eva gives a restrained but polite smile.

"Thanks for the advice. I'll...do that."

She won't. She's not pregnant. She hasn't slept with anyone in ages, let alone a guy, and she's not having no Jesus baby.

"Don't you worry, Ma'am, I can assure you that Eva here is in very good hands," Dr. Cameron says helpfully and emphasizes by lightly squeezing Eva's shoulders.

"Yeah, I'm totally confident that Dr. Cameron will take good care of me," Eva nods and glances mischievously toward said doctor. "Isn't that right, doctor?"

She's not quite sure why she felt the need to add that, but somehow the hand comment made her think of certain activities. 'Playing doctor', as it suitably happens to be called sometimes.

The younger brunette gives her an odd look but nods as well, and the old lady finally leaves. For a minute or two they're actually alone in the aisle.

"Very good hands?" Eva questions amusedly and continues to munch on her apple.

"I was trying to get rid of her! By the way, there's nothing wrong with my hands. They're quite nimble, actually."

Eva raises a quizzical brow, causing the other woman's cheeks to redden slightly as she finally realizes what Eva is getting at.

"Which is good for performing surgeries," she specifies. "Not that I'm doing a lot of that these days."

"How come?" Eva asks, intrigued.

She may keep the details of her own profession to herself but that doesn't mean she can't ask the immunologist about hers.

"I've been part of a diagnostic team at a hospital in New Jersey for the last three years."

"New Jersey? That's a long way from here. What are you doing in Miami?"

"Oh, I'm...on vacation."

Eva doesn't question her answer, though it doesn't sound completely truthful, and before the silence gets awkward the young clerk returns with a white plastic cup of water. He hands it to her with a tentative smile and she takes a long swig of the cold liquid.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes, thank you, I do. Henry, is it?"

She motions toward his nametag and his smile brightens.

"Yeah! I'm new," he explains, and fidgets with his hands again. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, that's alright," she says and glances down at the apple snufkin in her hand. "Unless you'd like to throw this away for me? And keep quiet where it came from."

She gives him a meaningful but not entirely serious look and he catches on and takes the piece of fruit with a goofy grin.

"I know nothing," he promises. "Just shout out if you need me, I'll be around."

There's an exchange of nods and smiles and then the two doctors are alone again, save for an elderly couple lurking about in the other end of the aisle. The sewing department doesn't seem to attract a lot of people. Eva downs the rest of the water and Dr. Cameron takes the cup and ditches it in the shopping cart.

"How about we try to get you up on your feet?" she suggests and extends her hands.

Eva accepts the help and manages to get up but she's instantly hit with another surge of dizziness and doesn't dare to let go of the other woman's hands.

"Hey!"

Eva looks up with a frown.

"Hey?"

"Just making sure you're not about to take another nap in my arms," Dr. Cameron smirks and proceeds to look the older woman deeply in the eyes. "Many people don't take fainting seriously but you look far too pale, even for a workaholic, for this to be nothing."

"Please," Eva mutters and retracts her hands, taking hold of her shopping cart instead. "You sound like my colleagues."

"But you know they're right, don't you? You may not be pregnant like Miss Helpful Lady implied earlier but you should let a doctor examine you, just to make sure there isn't any serious underlying condition."

"I don't know..."

"I'm insisting. What do you have to lose?"

"I... I just don't like hospitals that much..."

It's a terrible lie and Eva blushes. Jesus. Couldn't she have come up with anything better? She freaking works at a hospital.

"Don't you have anyone that can go with you?"

She's sincerely concerned. Dr. Allison Cameron, specialist in immunology, is sincerely concerned about her. Eva's cheeks darkens further when she realizes her lie wasn't detected.

"Err, no," she stutters, hoping to end the questioning. "I-I haven't."

"Well, then I'll go with you."

And Eva stands there, dumbfounded and out of excuses, with her mouth slightly open in surprise. She didn't even consider the possibility of such an offer.

"You'd...do that?"

"What can I say, I'm known for going out of my way for my patients."

Eva can relate. She sometimes grows a little too attached to her patients as well. Usually not to the point of interacting with them on her free time, though.

"I thought you said you were on vacation?"

The younger woman winches notably but quickly regains her composure.

"A doctor is never fully off duty," she responds cleverly.

There's a moment of silence and then she reaches into her purse, brings out a piece of paper, and scribbles down something on it before handing it to the older woman.

"At least take my number. I'll be around for a while, don't know for how long, exactly, but don't hesitate to call."

Eva smiles and accepts the note, but mostly out of politeness. She's not actually planning on calling. If only she hadn't told that stupid lie...

"Are you going to be okay? I think my ice cream may be in a critical condition. I should hurry home and put it in the freezer before it melts away."

Eva laughs heartily at the unexpected comment.

"At least, if things get really bad, you know how to do CPR," she jokingly reminds the other doctor.

"Well, I'm not sure that would actually help in this case. I'd probably just make a mess."

"Good point."

They both smile and Dr. Cameron crosses the aisle to pick up her shopping basket, which indeed contains a lot of ice cream and not much else.

"Bad breakup or just a big fan of ice cream?" Eva dares ask.

"Ah, well... A bit of both, I guess."

"I'm sorry to hear."

"It wasn't that bad," the younger woman says with a dismissive shrug. "Plus, I appreciate everything that helps me to keep cool."

Eva chuckles. Miami during the summer months can be rather painful, especially if you're not used to the heat and humidity.

"You better go save that ice cream, then."

"Yeah, I better. You're absolutely sure you're alright? I mean, if you want company..."

She wasn't kidding with the 'going out of her way for her patients', Eva thinks, a little surprised. Technically, she's not even her patient, not really.

"No, I'm fine," she insists and gestures toward the contents of her shopping cart. "I'm almost done anyway, so..."

"Okay," the other woman simply says and takes a step in the direction of the checkout lanes. "Take care."

"You too!"

"And, um... I'll be waiting for that call."

The younger brunette gives her an admonishing look before she leaves and Eva feels a bit guilty. For the small lies and for already having decided not to call. But she's a surgeon for God's sake, she doesn't need anyone to hold her hand for a simple doctor's appointment! Not that she's going. She's not sick, contrary to what everyone else seems to think. And she should know, considering her profession.

Breathing out a sigh she looks down at the piece of paper in her hand. 'Cameron,' it says. No 'Dr' or 'Allison' or 'specialist in immunology', just the last name and then a number with an unfamiliar area code.

"Cameron, huh?" Eva mumbles and folds the note. "You're gonna have to wait a long time for that call."