Work Text:
Trinity should know that that her day off is going to go badly. It gets off to too good of a start.
She wakes up to the sound of rain lashing against the window of her girlfriend's bedroom. Her girlfriend, because she has a girlfriend now. Trinity Santos in an honest-to-god, mature, adult relationship. Who would have thought her capable? Certainly not Trinity, but apparently Yolanda has more faith in her than she does, and after some very difficult and honestly quite painful conversations they're finally together, for real.
Some people—Dennis, Victoria, Mel, Perlah—would argue that they had already been together "for real" for the whole past year and three months (categorically not true). They took a break over the fall, which helped them work things out. For real for real this time.
Sure, they haven't actually told any of their coworkers other than Dennis that they're actually a couple now, but it isn't their business! Their coworkers are too nosy for their own good, as evidenced by the betting board she's seen, half tucked behind a curtain in the security room, debating the status of her and Yolanda's relationship and when they're quote-unquote 'going to get their shit together'.
What they are feels different now. To Trinity at least. And she's pretty sure that Yolanda feels the same way.
Exhibit A; Yolanda isn't wrapped around her back in the way that Trinity has gotten used to over the past few months, falling asleep and waking up with her soft breathing on the crook of her neck. But she strolls into the room a few seconds later with a sleepy smile and two mugs, stupidly beautiful in a pair of sweatpants and the t-shirt that Trinity shed last night.
"Hey, sleepyhead," she says in the voice that she reserves for Trinity. The one that always makes her heart skip a beat and her stomach clench. "Coffee?"
"Please," Trinity says, her voice morning-hoarse. She pushes herself up onto her elbows and reaches out blindly for the mug, hearing Yolanda huff a laugh at the grabby hands she's making.
"Here you go. I used up the last of your milk though, I'll buy some later."
Trinity takes a sip, letting out a pleased hum at the taste. "Any other plans?"
"I don't know," Yolanda replies, pausing to drink her own coffee (one sugar, normal milk, because unlike Trinity she's lucky and isn't plagued by lactose intolerance). She licks her lips casually, and looks Trinity up and down. "But I'm sure we can think of something."
Which brings her to exhibit B; the sex. It's pretty much the same as before, but Trinity doesn't feel the same fear she used to. The worry that she has to make the most of every time that they hook up, because she never knows if it'll be the last time. That she'll do something to scare Yolanda off. That just being herself, in fact, would be enough to do that.
Which is why, while they finish their coffee and make and eat breakfast and shower together, Trinity doesn't feel the need to rush things. She talks Yolanda's ear off about the trashy Netflix film she and Whitaker discovered last week. Yolanda washes the dishes while Trinity dries them, sat perched on the counter. And then she sighs into the kiss that Yolanda presses to her mouth as she pushes her up against the cold tile of the shower, letting her hands roam without a specific goal over the older woman's soapy skin.
And now, with Yolanda gently pushing her back down onto fresh sheets, Trinity doesn't complain as she slowly kisses her way down Trinity's neck and collarbones. She pushes herself up to pull her shirt off, whimpering quietly when Yolanda immediately attaches her mouth to the patch of skin just above her nipple.
She feels Yolanda grin into her skin in response, and then quickly nip at the same spot with her sharp teeth. Trinity hisses and Yolanda presses a chaste kiss to the reddening skin.
"Sorry, baby," she says as Trinity sits up slightly, with a look up to her pouting expression. "I'll be more gentle."
Trinity lays back again, melting into the covers, as Yolanda continues her path across her chest. She bites and sucks small marks into Trinity's skin, making sure to pepper kisses over the bruises that Trinity knows will soon form over the peaks of her tits. At one particularly well-placed movement—she's always been very sensitive, something Yolanda is well aware of—Trinity tries to cant her hips forward, but she's held down by Yolanda's weight pinning her to the mattress.
"Patience," Yolanda mutters into her skin. "There's no rush."
But she gives Trinity a break—Yolanda Garcia the kind, Yolanda Garcia the generous—by moving her attention further south. She sucks a bruise into the spot beside Trinity's hipbone, then another on the other side. Moves back up to place a playful bite to the dip of her waist, digging her teeth in when Trinity pulls her hair tightly in response. She hopes it will bruise.
And then, finally. Trinity thinks she might give in. Yolanda pushes herself up onto her elbows so that she's lying flush to Trinity's body, staring at her with a sparkle in her impossibly dark eyes.
"Hi," Trinity breathes out.
Yolanda's lips twitch into a smile. "Hi."
She blinks at Yolanda, her breath hitching slightly as the surgeon drags her hand over the marks she left, down over her boobs to her waist, skimming her index finger down along the dark hair at the top of her center for just a second before she draws it up again.
Tease.
"Do you know how much I like this?" Yolanda asks, circling her hand around Trinity's belly button. She flicks the small piece of metal that decorates her tummy, a silver bar with a tiny blue star at the end that Trinity had gotten done on a whim years ago.
"Hmm," Trinity laughs, pretending to think. "I don't think you've ever told me that, actually. Show me how much?"
"If you insist."
Trinity grins as she sees Yolanda dip her head to take the piercing into her mouth, running her tongue around the metal and flicking it up and down. Her fixation with the piercing isn't new at all, but she seems especially keen to show it today. The moan that Trinity lets out when Yolanda tugs at it slightly isn't exaggerated, either. She really is sensitive.
After a few minutes of teasing her like this, running her hands up and down Trinity's chest while she continues to mouth at the area around the piercing, Yolanda actually must decide to take pity on Trinity. She lowers one hand between Trinity's legs, running her fingers through her soaking folds, before she simultaneously drags them up to circle her clit and gives an especially hard tug on the metal where it's caught between her teeth.
But instead of any relief, this fucking hurts this time, and Trinity feels herself instinctively jerk away from Yolanda's touch.
"Fuck!" She swears, screwing her eyes shut and shuddering at the wave of white hot pain that has replaced the soft comfort of Yolanda's lips on her skin. "What the fuck!"
"Oh, shit. Don't look."
This is obviously the worst thing that her girlfriend could say, because now Trinity's head shoots up and she's craning her neck forward to see what happened and oh god, why is Yolanda covering part of her stomach with her hand? And is that blood on her mouth?
"Yolanda. What do you mean don't look?"
"Does it hurt?" Yolanda's face looks like she's trying very hard to not freak out. It's the same expression that Trinity sees when she loads the dishwasher wrong (there isn't a way to load it wrong. It washes the dishes either way, right?), or when Whitaker accidentally backed into her car that one time and left a massive dent in the back, or when Trinity had asked her whether she even liked her as a person one time over the summer and it led to the biggest fight they've ever had. But worse than them. Okay, maybe not worse than the last one, but equally upset.
"Yes," Trinity hisses through clenched teeth. She tries to move away from Yolanda's hand, but the feeling of Yolanda's skin brushing against hers is like sandpaper. It sends another bolt of pain through her and she stops with a quick gasp.
"I'm so, so sorry," Yolanda says, her eyes wider than Trinity's ever seen them before. "It just kind of… ripped out."
"What?"
"I think we need to go to the hospital."
"What?"
"Just… stay here for a second, okay? Don't look at it, it looks worse than it is." Yolanda pushes herself up and walks quickly out of the room, headed, no doubt, for the first aid kit that she keeps in the bathroom.
Trinity does not listen to her advice. It's her body, for fuck's sake, and it really fucking hurts right now.
She should have listened, though. When she looks at her stomach, there's a pretty steady trickle of blood running into her belly button and spilling down onto Yolanda's nice sheets. Her piercing is, like Yolanda said, ripped out and sitting forlornly on the fabric next to her, while the skin it was pressed through—always a bit too close to the surface, Trinity had thought—has been split cleanly in two.
And Trinity has never been one to get faint at the sight of blood, especially not her own. But a wave of nausea washes over her at the sight of this, followed by another throb of pain, and she lets her head fall back onto the mattress with a groan. Of course this would happen to her.
"You looked, didn't you," Yolanda chastises immediately when she walks back into the room. She cannot be pretending to have the upper hand right now; Trinity shoots her a glare with as much strength as she can muster, but it finds the top of her head as Yolanda immediately ducks down to press something cold over the bleeding area.
Trinity hisses again in response to the stinging, a tear slipping out of her eye involuntarily. "A little warning?"
"Sorry," Yolanda replies softly, gently pressing a square of gauze over the area. "I wasn't thinking."
"It's fine, just fucking hurts."
"I'm so sorry, baby, I don't know how this—"
"It's fine. We should go to the hospital, you're right. So let's go." She pushes herself off of the bed without looking back at Yolanda, walking over to the dresser to find something to wear.
"Hey, wait, let me."
Trinity doesn't object as Yolanda reaches past her to open the drawer, pulling out a loose long-sleeved shirt that she's stolen on more than one occasion. She lets Yolanda pull it over her head, too, and holds onto her as she steps into the pair of underwear and sweatpants that she offers, the throbbing in her tummy throwing her off balance a bit. She even lets her put her coat on for her, although she draws the line at her shoes. Trinity isn't a child.
But she's not feeling okay, obviously. And it hurts too much for her to pretend like she isn't a bit annoyed at her girlfriend; how hard did Yolanda pull on her skin? It's not like she thinks that Yolanda would ever try to hurt her—she knows for a fact that the older woman never would—but she is still responsible for this pain. It's not a nice feeling.
So she maybe keeps avoiding Yolanda's eye contact, and replying to her questions with monosyllabic grunts, and when Yolanda tries to touch her arm comfortingly in the car she shakes it off.
A short journey later, when they pull up outside PTMC—because, yes, Presby is closer to Yolanda's place, but she makes the argument that they can skip the queue at their workplace and get it over with more quickly—the pain has dulled slightly. However, Trinity is not any less pissed. In fact, she's more annoyed, because she's about to have to face her coworkers. And Yolanda has decided that she's coming in with her, despite the silent treatment that Trinity's currently giving her. (If this were any other situation, Trinity might feel gooey inside at this realization. The fact that Yolanda wants to come with her, even though it's completely unnecessary, and hold her hand while one of her coworkers fixes her skin back together. But she hasn't quite put those pieces together yet. Give her some time to get there, okay?)
Yolanda trails her into the building on her heels, close enough that Trinity wants to ask her for some space but far enough away that she knows that would seem unreasonable. She takes a deep breath as they pass through the metal detectors at the entrance to the waiting room, nodding to the security guard.
When they've woven through the room, unsurprisingly already full at midday on a Thursday in February, Trinity joins the queue to be admitted. She ignores how Yolanda stands just behind her for the sake of her sanity, and instead focuses on how she's going to avoid several specific coworkers once she gets into the ED proper. She doesn't need this getting out to everyone.
Thankfully, the queue moves quickly, and Trinity soon finds herself face to face with registration, staring at the top of one of the worker's heads. After a second or two, the ward clerk looks up from her computer at the two of them with thinly veiled surprise.
"Hey Lupe," Trinity greets with the best smile she can muster.
"Oh hi, Dr. Santos," Lupe says back. From the way her eyebrows knit together, it seems that Trinity maybe isn't hiding her discomfort as well as she hoped. Her face did always get her into trouble growing up. "And Dr. Garcia. What can we help you guys with?"
Trinity looks down at the floor for a second, embarrassed. It's fine.
"My, um, piercing ripped out," she admits, pushing her hair back behind her ears nervously.
Lupe frowns, scanning her face. "Your ears look okay."
"Yeah, no, my belly button. Maybe a half hour ago."
"Ouch," Lupe mutters, typing something into her computer as she frowns.
"Mhm."
"Well, why don't you guys just go on through," Lupe continues, gesturing towards the door that leads back to the main ED. "That sounds like a quick fix, I hope!"
"Thanks, Lupe."
"Yeah, thank you," Yolanda agrees, speaking up for the first time as she places a hand on Trinity's shoulder to guide her towards the doors. Like she doesn't know where to go.
"No problem," she hears Lupe call from behind them. "Just talk to Dana, she'll get you sorted out."
Oh, great. They're going to have to walk past everyone then. Trinity braces herself as the door buzzes to let them both through, ignoring how Yolanda holds it open for her, and unzips her coat as she walks towards the hub. She quickly spots a platinum head of hair in front of the board and beelines towards the nurse, swallowing her pride.
It's fine. Totally not embarrassing. Plenty of her coworkers have come into the pitt before—hell, Trinity's even met McKay's asshole ex-husband in the ED, who proceeded to hit on her. Nothing can be worse than that. It's fine, and she's not mortified, and she will not turn bright red. All fine and good and—
"Dr. Santos," Dana says, peering over her glasses in the way she always does when she's trying to figure people out. Sadly, not even the first time this week that she's stared Trinity down like that. "And Dr. Garcia. To what do we owe the pleasure? I didn't think you were working today."
"Dana."
"Hey, Dana," Trinity laughs self-deprecatingly. "I got hurt in a really stupid way, and Lupe told us to just come through."
Dana folds her arms and looks between the two of them with a deadpan expression. "What happened."
"Ripped out a piercing, nothing that bad," Trinity replies smoothly, trying to pretend that she can't feel her cheeks heating up.
Yolanda lets out a noise of disapproval. "Well—"
"It's not that bad," Trinity repeats, sending a glare towards her girlfriend. "I'm walking, aren't I?"
"Hmm." Dana exchanges a silent look with Yolanda, and Trinity wants to scream. "That's true. Well, I think Donnie's free, why don't I send him—"
"Actually," Yolanda cuts in. "If you can spare a woman, that would probably be better."
"Yeah," Trinity agrees, ignoring how Dana raises her eyebrows slightly at the interjection. She wishes she could be angry that Yolanda's trying to speak for her, but this is something that she appreciates.
"Or, if it's easier, I can just check her out—" Yolanda continues. And scratch what she said before, Trinity is annoyed again.
"No." She snaps, cutting her off.
"Trinity—"
"Santos is right," Dana interrupts, not trying at all to hide her amusement as her eyes ping-pong between the two of them. "Neither of you are clocked in, so for insurance and billing purposes we can't have either of you holding a needle."
Trinity sends a 'see?' look to Yolanda, who rolls her eyes in response.
"Princess?" Dana shouts across the room, and Trinity winces as several sets of eyes slide over to them. "We got a free room?"
"Um, maybe central ten," Princess shouts back, openly ogling them with a grin.
"Perfect. Why don't you meet Dr. Santos in there, and I'll find you a doctor."
"Thanks, Dana," Trinity mumbles, avoiding eye contact with everyone that they pass on the short walk to the room. She's never going to hear the end of this, she realizes glumly. It's going to be like the scalpel in Yolanda's foot all over again. They should have just gone to Presby.
She pushes into the room and takes off her coat, throwing it on the chair before she settles onto the bed. This pulls at her stomach, and to cover up her grimace she crosses her arms petulantly across her chest and she stares straight ahead. From her side she hears Yolanda sigh and move into her field of vision, and turns her head away so that she doesn't have to look at her.
"Trin," she begins to say in a soft voice. "I—"
The door opens abruptly, stopping her in her tracks. Trinity turns her head instinctively, and relaxes slightly when she sees Princess enter, followed by McKay. There are much worse people to admit what happened too, even if Princess is already waggling her eyebrows at her.
"Hey guys," McKay says with a smile. "Sorry to see you on your day off. Dana didn't tell me what you're in for, what's up?"
Trinity stiffens slightly as she feels Yolanda come around the side of the bed, pausing when she gets to the head and resting her hand on the bars just behind her shoulder.
"Ugh," she sighs instead of reacting to her girlfriend's presence again. She's mature. But she is already so sick of constantly repeating what happened, and it still fucking hurts. "Ripped out my belly button piercing."
McKay grimaces and whistles out slowly through her teeth.
"Oof. I ripped out one of my earrings once, hurt like a bitch."
"You don't say."
"How long ago was this?"
"Maybe forty, forty-five minutes ago?" Trinity answers. She wasn't exactly looking at the clock when it happened.
"Okay, good to know," McKay answers, pulling on a pair of gloves. "Lift up your shirt for me, Trinity?"
This is the part that she's been dreading. Trinity curses herself from an hour ago who encouraged her girlfriend to suck not one, but two hickies into her waist and stomach as she reluctantly pulls her shirt up and avoids making eye contact with anyone else. Her face is flaming, and she knows that if she looks up then she will see Princess sending her a wink. Thankfully McKay, ever the professional, doesn't say anything as she pulls the gauze off of Trinity's tummy.
"Oh wow, that looks painful. I'm going to touch it, deep breath."
"Okay."
Trinity winces as she feels McKay palpate the area around the jagged flesh, having to keep her eyes looking up so that she doesn't gag at the sight. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Yolanda move as if to rest her hand on her arm before she changes her mind and steps back an inch.
"Yeah, this looks like a pretty clean rip, all things considered," McKay says after a few painful moments. "The piercing doesn't seem to have been as deep as some are, so that's why it isn't still bleeding all that much."
Trinity nods. Finally there's an upside to having gotten said piercing done by a friend during college, even if this is the same reason for it ripping out in the first place. Every cloud, right?
"Stitches?" She hears Yolanda ask.
McKay hums in agreement. "I'm afraid so. We'll numb you up right now and you can be out soon, go back to enjoying your day off."
"Thank you."
"Yeah, thanks," Trinity echoes.
McKay stands up as she pulls off her gloves, looking back down at the wound with an assessing look on her face. Trinity hates being on display like this, even if it's barely a ten-inch tall strip of her stomach exposed. It makes her skin itch.
"Before that though, what were you doing when the injury happened?" She asks, and Trinity has to resist the urge to roll over and hide her face in the mattress.
"Um…" She begins, trying to work out how best to phrase it. Some foreplay gone wrong? Her girlfriend's oral fixation? Lie and say she caught it on a sweater, or her bedsheets, or a towel, or literally anything other than the truth?
McKay and Princess continue to look between them as Trinity flounders, biting on her lip as she thinks.
"It was my fault." She suddenly hears Yolanda admit from behind her, sounding less embarrassed than Trinity feels she rightfully should. "I pulled it out."
"Oh, it got caught on something?" McKay asks honestly, her face nonjudgmental as always.
"Oh my god," Trinity breathes out, covering her face with her hands. She knows she is redder than a tomato right now, and debates plugging her ears so she doesn't have to hear Yolanda try to explain the situation. But apparently her girlfriend is now practicing radical honesty.
"My teeth. I pulled too hard."
Trinity sits up abruptly, turning her head to shoot daggers at her girlfriend.
"Why would you tell her that?" She hisses.
"So that she gives you antibiotics, Trinity," Yolanda serves back. She looks incredibly unimpressed, giving Trinity the kind of look that would usually make her cower and feel humiliated at her own actions. Today she is impermeable to it. "It's not that embarrassing. We're all adults here, they know we—"
"Shut up. And yeah, for you, maybe!"
There's the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind Trinity's back, and she remembers that they are currently being stared at by two of her coworkers. If it's even possible, she avoids eye contact even more than she was previously as she turns back to a reclined position.
"Thank you, Dr. Garcia," McKay is saying. It's clear that she's holding back a laugh, and if she were working this case too Trinity would be right there with her. But it turns out that this kind of absurd situation is a lot less funny when you want to murder your girlfriend. "That is good to know. Um… I will write you a script for some amoxicillin. Be right back to do your sutures in a minute."
"Thanks," Trinity mutters as she walks out of the room.
Princess, from her position at the foot of the bed, watches them for a second. When it becomes apparent that the frosty atmosphere between Trinity and Yolanda isn't going to die down any time soon, though, she claps her hands together and edges towards the door as well.
"Um… why don't I give you guys a minute as well?" She says. "I'll just be right outside."
Trinity watches as the door shuts behind them, theatrically flopping her arm over her eyes before she lets out a frustrated groan. "That was so embarrassing. I'm gonna have to get a new job."
"Don't be dramatic."
"I'm serious, Yolanda," she says, running her hand down over her face as she turns to level a look at her girlfriend. "I will never be able to look them in the eye after this. Why did we come here?"
"Because," Yolanda says in a soothing tone, bringing her hand up properly this time to rub over Trinity's shoulder. "I didn't want you to get sepsis. Is that alright with you?"
Trinity shifts in her seat, resisting the urge to melt into her touch. Everything is just so much, and when she woke up this morning she was hoping to have a nice, relaxing day where she didn't feel on edge all the time for once, and she just snaps.
"Can you please just let me breathe for a second?" She asks sharply, moving her arm abruptly out from under Yolanda's palm. She registers the hurt that flashes across her girlfriend's face, but the frustration that's been building up inside her over the past hour has reach its boiling point. "Genuinely, I don't want you to ever touch me again after today. Give me some space."
Yolanda draws her arm back and stares at her for a second.
"If you don't want me here," she retorts, taking a step backwards. "Just say the word."
"Fine. I don't want you here."
Trinity fixes her eyes on the blanket in front of her so she doesn't have to see whatever expression is on her girlfriend's face in reaction to her words. She doesn't know whether she actually wants Yolanda to listen to her or not. Part of her hopes that she will, that she will take what Trinity is saying so explicitly and obey her for once, but the rest of her wants Yolanda to stay with her regardless.
"Fine. I'll go then."
Yolanda steps around the bed and leaves, seemingly not hesitating before she shuts the door behind her. Which is fine, it is what Trinity wanted. She brushes the tear that's escaped her eyes off of where it's rolling down her cheek, and sniffs as she composes herself. Unless something terrible happens outside of her room, the others will be back soon.
Trinity doesn't cry very often. And most of why she's bordering on it right now, she knows for a fact is because of the genuine physical pain that she's in. That's also probably why she just snapped like that at her girlfriend, after spending the past couple of months desperate to stay in the honeymoon phase. She and Yolanda ended things before because of a big argument, after all—she hasn't wanted to risk that happening again. And now she's unintentionally done just that, and Yolanda has left her like she always thought she would.
This is irrational, she knows. And probably blowing the situation she's in out of proportion. But still, Trinity can't face the disappointment that she feels when, a minute or two later, it isn't Yolanda who opens the door and walks back in.
"Oh, Dr. Garcia left?" Princess asks as she holds the door open for McKay.
"Yeah," Trinity agrees, nodding at the 'are you okay?' look that the nurse sends her.
McKay doesn't seem to notice this though, bringing the suture tray over to the bed and snapping on a pair of gloves.
"Nice of her to come in with you," she comments with a conspiratorial look. Trinity has been privy to a lot of these looks over the past six months, not just from the two others in this room, and as ever she doesn't know quite how to respond.
"I guess, yeah," Trinity replies awkwardly. She really, really does not want to discuss the state of her relationship right now, especially when she could be getting some pain relief instead. She gestures to the injury on her stomach. "Can you—"
"Oh, yeah, sorry. This might pinch a little bit." McKay numbs the area around the cut, before she cleans it and takes the needle that Princess offers her. "So… spending your day off together, huh?"
"Yep," Trinity says with a grimace as McKay makes her first stitch. The lidocaine has helped a lot, but it still hurts.
"You guys are cute together," Princess offers up, with a small smile.
Trinity scoffs at this. Yeah, sure, cute. That's the word for her and Yolanda, the couple that are too afraid to admit to anyone that they're actually a couple in case they end up breaking up. Or that's why Trinity hasn't admitted it yet, anyway. She doesn't know why Yolanda hasn't told anyone, and she's almost too afraid to ask her why that is.
"I'm serious. You're a great couple, both got brains and beauty," McKay continues, and the sincerity with which she says this ridiculous compliment is somehow enough to crack a smile on Trinity's face. The pain relief isn't hurting, either.
"You sound eighty years old."
"No denial to the couple bit?" Princess mutters.
"Princess."
"I'm just saying…"
Trinity knows what she's saying. Even when they were the very definition of the word situationship, she and Yolanda didn't exactly hide their interest in each other. And since they officially defined the relationship, despite not telling people about this, their couple-ish behavior has really only ramped up. She initiates flirting during cases almost as much as Yolanda does, and they hold hands when they leave work together, and one time last week Yolanda pushed a piece of Trinity's hair behind her ear for her when it was getting in the way of her reading some ultrasound results, even though she had to take off her own gloves to do so.
Maybe they're just kidding themselves in pretending their relationship is a secret. Maybe it isn't worth it to keep it a 'secret' anymore.
"How much is the bet?" Trinity asks suddenly, cocking her head at Princess where the nurse is suddenly busying herself with moving the curtain.
"What bet?" Trinity hears her respond airily, not turning back around. McKay swallows a laugh, and Princess sighs, turning back around. "Fine. It's a lot, okay? And yeah, I have money on you admitting you're a couple to each other very soon."
"I knew it."
"But… if you are just having fun, who are we to judge? You're young, god knows what I was doing at your age."
Trinity grins properly at this. "Are you kidding me? You've told me at length what you were doing at my age."
"Well then," McKay says, tying what Trinity hopes is the final knot in her tiny sutures. "You should listen to our advice."
"Where was the advice in this?"
"Oh, right," the R3 continues. "If you want to be in a relationship, go after it. Don't settle for what you have being just 'good enough'."
"Yeah," Princess chimes in with a wise expression. "Life is too short to not tell people how you feel."
The hem of Trinity's shirt is suddenly really interesting. She thinks about how Yolanda picked out her softest shirt for her to wear, how apologetic she was for something that was really just an accident because she saw how hurt Trinity felt, how upset she seemed when Trinity took out her frustration on her earlier.
"She knows how I feel," she admits, avoiding looking straight at either of the older women. "We're… we're together, okay? She's my girlfriend."
Princess whoops, and Trinity holds up a hand to stop her celebrations.
"But you might have lost the bet. We've been together for almost three months."
"Oh, fuck."
McKay laughs at the disappointed expression on Princess' face. "Well, I'm still happy for you guys. Congratulations."
"Ugh, whatever," Trinity mutters. She knows that they interpret this as a thank you from the way they smile at her blushing. "Can you please finish up already? I'm sure you have better things to be doing than giving me life advice."
As McKay presses a fresh dressing over the now neat sutures, Trinity hears the door click again. It thankfully, and quite surprisingly, isn't any of her coworkers coming to gawk at the poor incapacitated doctor. It's Yolanda. She sends Trinity a tentative smile as she walks back inside, balancing two takeaway coffee cups in one hand.
"We'll leave you two lovebirds alone," she hears from her right. "Have a good rest of your day!"
"Yeah, you too. Good luck, you'll need it!" Trinity calls after Princess' retreating figure, blushing again at the fond look that Yolanda sends her. Maybe she was overreacting a bit before.
McKay stands up, pulling the suture tray back with her.
"She's almost ready to go home," she says towards Yolanda before turning back to Trinity with the bottles she had brought in with her. "Here are your painkillers, you can take up to four a day as needed. And the amoxicillin, one a day for the next three days. Dr. Garcia, do you want us to run a blood panel?"
Yolanda shakes her head, and Trinity winces when she remembers that of course some of her blood went in her mouth. Although, not for the first time.
"Not necessary. Thank you."
"Okay then! Just don't bump the wound, redress it if the dressing gets wet. And maybe be gentler next time, hmm?" McKay ends her instructions with a pointed look at Yolanda. Trinity is very happy to see that this, finally, is the thing that makes her girlfriend blush too, faint pink rising on her clear brown skin.
Yolanda clears her throat and nods in response. "Right."
"I don't want to see either of you back here until your next shift. Doctor's orders"
"Yeah, you and me both," Trinity replies, pulling her shirt back down and swinging her legs off the side of the bed. "Thanks, McKay."
"No problem. You remember where the exit is?"
"I think together we can work it out."
"Amazing. Bye guys," she says, and backs out of the door with a smile.
"Bye."
"Goodbye."
Trinity takes her coat when Yolanda holds it out, and doesn't complain when she takes the medication and slips it into her own bag. Thank god, another confirmation that she still wants Trinity to come back home with her.
They walk out of the ED together, thankfully managing to avoid most of Trinity's nosiest coworkers (although she does see Princess giving someone money out of the corner of her eye). Trinity shoves her hands in her pockets as they walk outside so that she isn't tempted to find Yolanda's hand and get rejected because of how much of a bitch she was earlier. She lets the silence build until they get to Yolanda's car and sit in awkward silence for a split second.
"I'm really sorry for—" she begins, twisting her fingers together.
At the same time, though, she hears Yolanda speak. "I'm sorry about—oh, wait. What are you apologizing for?"
Trinity turns in her seat, staring at her in disbelief. "Being a massive bitch earlier. I didn't mean it, I was just upset, and really overwhelmed."
"Yeah, I know," Yolanda says, frowning. "You weren't a bitch. I hurt you and then I was being annoying, and that's my fault."
"But I overreacted."
"Not really," Yolanda replies with a shake of her head. "I was worse when you dropped that scalpel into my foot."
Trinity winces at the reminder, and Yolanda looks at her in concern. "Is it your stitches? Are you okay?"
"No, that's not it. Just the memory of that day, ugh."
"Sorry."
"Please, stop apologizing. It feels unnatural."
"I apologize when I'm in the wrong, Trinity," Yolanda says softly. "This is my fault. Not yours. I want to make this up to you."
"You don't have to—"
"I mean it," Yolanda repeats. "Just name the time and place, I will repent however you want me to."
"Well, if you insist," Trinity smiles at the overly serious way that her girlfriend is essentially propositioning her. She remembers something else suddenly, though, and feels her face fall. "Um… I might have something else I need to apologize for, though."
"What?"
"I… toldmckayandprincessthatwewe'reacouple," she says quickly, chewing at her lip as she examines Yolanda's face for a reaction. "I hope that's okay and I get that you might not be okay with telling people that, and I'm sorry if you aren't but it just slipped out and—"
"Trinity." Yolanda interrupts her with a warm hand on her thigh. "Breathe."
She does as she's told, still tracking her girlfriend's face.
"Of course I'm okay with that," Yolanda sighs. "I hadn't told anyone because I thought you were worried about it."
"Oh." Trinity is an idiot. "I'm an idiot."
"You aren't an idiot. Maybe we're still not the best at communicating, that's all. I never wanted to hide that we're in a relationship, I just wanted you to decide when you were comfortable enough to say it to someone other than your roommate."
She nods slowly, taking in Yolanda's words. That… makes a lot of sense, actually. Yolanda is a lot more considerate than people give her credit for, at least where Trinity is concerned. She places her hand over Yolanda's where it's still resting on her thigh, and squeezes it lightly.
"I am comfortable enough to say it. Maybe I don't want to send out a hospital-wide memo, but—"
Her bad joke is cut off by Yolanda leaning forward and kissing her softly, lifting one had to cup her jaw while she flips the one on Trinity's thigh to intertwine their fingers.
After only a second Yolanda pulls back, her dark eyes sparkling as she looks at Trinity's face. "I don't need a memo. In fact, I don't want us to mention the hospital again for the rest of our day off. Is that okay with you?"
Trinity nods maybe a bit too enthusiastically at this. "Please. I'm sure we can think of something better to fill our time."