Fics like take it slow, no rush

This has to be a nightmare, Langdon examining her for damage, Langdon sure to come up a winner because she’s all scratched up and wrecked, completely annihilated, no good to anyone. “Stop,” Santos says, trying to glare past that winking pen light. He flicks her a cool, dispassionate look and keeps drawing a line with his finger for her to follow with her eyes. “If this was Whitaker presenting in the ER with a, sorry— you obviously prefer bluntness, right?— a really messed up face, definite signs of concussion, road rash, the whole freaking works… how would you proceed?” Santos thinks of Whitaker putting his hand in vague proximity to her face without ever once making physical contact, his voice all cloudy with emotion as he tried to talk to her. “I’d send Whitaker and that fuck ass mullet for a head CT,” she cannot help but choke out. “Okay. That’s how we’ll start. You got an emergency contact? Someone we can call to be here with you right now?” “Whitaker.” Now his face dips to impatience. Huckleberry is pulling his shift right now, clearly busy. Santos straightens her shoulders and tries not to splinter under the pain. “Call Ellis, okay?”

Fics like take it slow, no rush

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