Fics like i'll be on my way before we're done

Standing by the other end of an ice tub is Santos, looking small and numb and rooted to the spot. “Discúlpeme,” Garcia interjects with the pure iciness she reserves for when men piss her off, arms crossed over her chest, and stance rigid and ready. “What the fuck is going on in here?” Langdon lets out a big annoyed huff and glances at her over his shoulder. “Nothing,” he deadpans with a dismissive wave in Santos’s direction. “Just your new best friend continuing to put patients’ lives in danger because she wants to do everything her fucking self.” “That’s not—” Mohan begins, then hesitates when Langdon shoots her a look, but she just steadies herself and continues to address Garcia only. “That’s not entirely accurate.” Garcia’s eyes shift to the intern in question, whose body language hasn’t changed at all. “Dr. Santos?” she asks, just on the soft side of neutral. Santos doesn’t react.

Fics like i'll be on my way before we're done

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