Origano and Basilico

Maya headed to Joe’s Bar with Vic, Travis, Andy and Jack for a much-needed wind-down after an exhausting shift. It had been one of those days where the calls were relentless and there’d been no time to decompress.

When they stepped inside, the familiar hum of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air. Maya scanned the room for Andrew. He was already at the bar, deep in conversation with a group of his colleagues from Grey Sloan: Meredith, Amelia and Jo.

“Ah, the prodigal returns!” Andrew exclaimed, raising his glass with a wink when he caught sight of Maya. “I knew you couldn’t resist my charms.” 

“Actually, I think it had more to do with you offering to buy the next round.” Maya smirked as she and her team claimed a booth nearby, the groups naturally blending over rounds of beer and easy conversation. 

After most of their friends had left for the night and the crowd had thinned, Maya found herself near Andrew at the bar. The alcohol had helped to ease the tension of the day and there was an ease between them that hadn’t been there for a while. Andrew nursed his drink, his fingers absently tracing the rim of the glass. Maya caught the way his usual bright energy had dimmed slightly, like something heavier was sitting beneath the surface.

“You okay, DeLuca?” she asked, keeping her tone light but curious.

Andrew hesitated for half a second before flashing a small smile, that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

Maya arched an eyebrow. “Dangerous habit.”

He let out a soft laugh but didn’t say anything right away. He took another sip of his drink. Maya didn’t push—she knew that look. It was the look of someone with something on their mind but not sure if they were ready to say it out loud. After a beat, Andrew sighed, running a hand through his dark curls. “You ever notice how some conversations are easier with a drink in hand?”

Maya smirked, giving him a playful shoulder bump. “I think that’s the whole reason bars exist.”

Andrew chuckled but didn’t add anything right away. Instead, he took another sip of his drink, continuing to stare into the bottom of the glass as if debating something. This time, when he spoke, there was a shift—something more vulnerable in his voice. 

“My sister might be coming to Seattle,” he said, his voice careful, almost like he was testing out the words before fully committing to them.

Maya tilted her head questioningly, “Oh yeah? Job opportunity?”

Andrew let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Not exactly. More like a mission to check up on me.” There was something there—something heavier beneath the joke. Maya caught it instantly. 

She leaned on the bar, studying him, her words tentative. “And why does big sister DeLuca think you need checking up on?”

Andrew hesitated, his jaw tightening for a second before he met her gaze, forcing a small, tired smile. “Because… I’m the same age now that my father was when his mania started.”

Maya stilled. The impact of his words pressing deeply on her heart. Andrew let out a quiet, humourless chuckle. His gaze returned to the beer mat he’d begun to peel. 

“Carina’s been worried for years, but now? I know it’s in the back of her mind all the time. Like if she watches me closely enough, she’ll catch it before it happens.”

Maya’s grip on her drink tightened slightly. She knew the fear of something lurking in your blood, waiting, and she felt instantly protective.

“That’s a lot,” she sighed after a beat, her voice softer than before.

“Yeah,” Andrew admitted, exhaling. “She stayed behind in Italy when my mom and I left. Someone had to look after our father, and she took that on. But now he’s gone, she feels like she should’ve been here for me, too.”

Maya studied him carefully. “Do you think she’s right to worry?”

Andrew was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know. I feel fine. But my dad probably felt fine before it hit him.” He paused, his throat bobbing as his eyes met Maya’s, “and that’s what scares me.”

Maya saw the fear in his eyes before he dropped his gaze once more. She wanted to encourage him, but she didn’t know what to say. Instead, she reached over, gently covering his hand with hers, stilling his fidgeting fingers with a soft squeeze. “You’re not your dad, Andrew,” she said firmly. “And you’ve got people here who care for you. You don’t have to figure this out alone.”

Andrew glanced back at her then, like he wasn’t expecting the certainty in her words. But after a moment, he nodded. “Thanks, Maya.”

She gave him a small smile, patting his hand affectionately, “Anytime.”

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, and he picked up his glass and rolled it between his hands again. But when he spoke next, his voice was lighter, shifting away from the weight of the conversation.

“Anyway,” he said, an amused glint in his eye, “I should warn you—if Carina does come to Seattle, she’ll definitely make an impression.”

Maya arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Andrew grinned, shaking his head. “Let’s just say, she’s very Italian. Unapologetic. And completely incapable of embarrassment.”

Maya laughed out loud. “That sounds… dangerous.”

“Oh, it is,” Andrew said, chuckling. “Especially since she’s an OB-GYN and very open about her research.”

Maya took a sip of her beer, relieved by the shift in her friend’s mood. “Should I even ask?”

Andrew smirked. “She’s trying to get funding for a study on the female orgasm.”

Maya nearly choked on her drink. “I’m sorry—what?”

Andrew burst out laughing. “Yep. That’s my sister. She’s incredibly passionate about women’s health and, well… let’s just say she’s very Italian about it.”

Maya raised an amused eyebrow. “Meaning?”

Andrew grinned. “Meaning she doesn’t get embarrassed talking about sex, anatomy, pleasure—any of it. To her, it’s just science. The human body. She grew up in Italy, where people are a lot more open about these things. But in the U.S? Let’s just say she has a habit of making people—especially Americans—turn bright red without even trying.”

Maya snorted, leaning against the bar. “I mean, my team deals with life-and-death situations daily. I doubt a little anatomy talk would throw us off.”

Andrew laughed. “Trust me, she has a way of making even the toughest people squirm.”

Maya chuckled, shaking her head. “Sounds like she enjoys it.”

“Oh, she does,” Andrew admitted, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “But it’s not about shock value for her—it’s just who she is. She’s completely unapologetic about what she believes in, and she won’t tone it down for anyone.” He grinned. 

“So, if she does come to Seattle, be prepared for some very, very interesting conversations at the firehouse.”

Maya took another sip of her beer, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Huh. So, is she anything like you?”

Andrew shot her a teasing grin, waggling his eyebrows. “You mean ridiculously charming and good-looking? Absolutely.”

Maya scoffed, but she couldn’t deny Andrew was attractive. His dark curls, easy smile, and expressive brown eyes made him stand out. If his sister looked anything like him… well, that was an interesting thought.

She shrugged her shoulders, trying to act casual. “I mean, just curious. Genetics and all that.”

Andrew chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But be warned — Carina doesn’t just look good, she knows exactly how to make people uncomfortable while looking good.”

Maya laughed, shaking her head. “I think my team might actually combust if she starts discussing orgasms over post-shift drinks.”

“Oh, she absolutely would,” Andrew said, grinning. “And she wouldn’t even blink while doing it.”

Maya clinked her bottle against his glass, amusement flickering in her eyes. She wasn’t sure why she was suddenly so curious about Carina, but there was something about the way Andrew talked about her that made Maya wonder just what kind of woman his sister was.

***
Maya had just got home from work and was locking the door to her car when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Andrew walking toward her, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

“Hey, Bishop,” he greeted, offering a friendly smile. “Got a minute?”

Maya arched an eyebrow. “Depends. If you’re about to tell me I parked in your spot again, I’ll remind you that we operate a ‘first come, first served’ system here. You snooze, you lose.”

Andrew chuckled. “No parking complaints this time,” he grinned, then nodded toward the neglected plants outside her apartment. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about those.”

Maya followed his gaze, frowning in embarrassment at the window box and sad-looking collection of planters and pots in the small garden area outside her ground-floor apartment. Withered remnants were all that remained of a gardening attempt that had failed months ago.

She sighed. “Yeah, I know. I had big plans when I moved in—fresh herbs, flowers, plants. But between shifts at Station 19 and being exhausted all the time, I kind of... abandoned them.”

Andrew nodded in understanding, then hesitated before saying, “So, here’s the thing… My sister loves to cook. In Sicily, she had this beautiful herb garden—fresh basil, oregano, rosemary. But when she found out I don’t have a garden here in Seattle, she was really disappointed - And I mean the Italian version of disappointed – it’s another level. It’s...”

“Hey!” Maya cut him off, her hands raised, “I get the picture! Spill!”
“Okay! Okay!” He chuckled, then gestured toward Maya’s window box and planters. “I was wondering… would you be okay with her using these?”

Maya was surprised by the unexpected request. “Wait, so she’d take care of them? Keep stuff alive?”

Andrew grinned. “That’s the plan. She’s got green fingers, I promise. And honestly, I think having something familiar, something to take care of, will help her settle in. This is a huge change for her—leaving Sicily, moving somewhere she doesn’t know anyone but me. I just…I want to make it easier for her.”

Maya considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, as you can see, I clearly suck at taking care of plants, so, yep, if she wants to use them, they’re all hers.”

Andrew’s expression brightened. “You’re a lifesaver, Maya. I mean that literally: I’m not joking about Italian-grade disappointment. She’s going to be thrilled.” 

Maya rolled her eyes, “DeLuca, I literally am a lifesaver.” She threw her shoulders back and gave a comical salute, “Maya Bishop, first responder, hero, defender of Italian brothers who are afraid of their own sisters. Seriously, though, I feel like I’m getting the better end of this deal. The plants might survive for once and give this place some kerb appeal.”

Andrew laughed, waggling a finger at her. “True, but don’t let it go to your head.” He glanced toward her apartment. “Carina gets here next week.”

Maya perked up. “Next week? Nice. I’ll finally get to meet this famous sister of yours.”

Andrew hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… about that. When does your next shift rotation start?”

Maya frowned. “Next Tuesday. Why?”

Andrew winced. “Damn. That’s the day she arrives. And I checked—our schedules aren’t going to line up much after that. You’re working nights, right?”

She sighed, already feeling a pang of ‘Maya Bishop grade’ disappointment. “Yeah. And I’m being sent to a training session in Portland the following week.”

Andrew gave her a sympathetic look. “That sucks. She’s going to be around, though. And trust me, you’ll meet her eventually.”

Maya forced a smile. “Yeah, eventually.”

She wasn’t sure why she felt so deflated. Maybe it was because, after hearing so much about Carina, she was genuinely curious to meet her. But it seemed like fate had other plans.

***

Over the next few weeks, Maya’s frustration grew. It wasn’t just that she hadn’t met Carina yet—it was that everyone else had.

Travis came back from a trip to Grey Sloan in the S19 Aid Car gushing about how “ridiculously beautiful” she was. Vic ran into her at Joe’s and wouldn’t stop talking about how funny, stylish and effortlessly cool she was. Even Jack, who rarely paid attention to anyone outside their station, commented on how “DeLuca’s sister is something else.”

Maya rolled her eyes every time they brought her up, her patience wearing thin. “Okay, okay, I get it. She’s amazing. Can we all move on?” 

Maya barely had any time at home. And when she did, Carina was nowhere to be seen. But there was evidence of her everywhere. The window box and planters were full again—lush green basil, fragrant rosemary, delicate oregano. The space that had once been a graveyard for plants was now a carefully tended sanctuary, and it was all thanks to Carina.

And then came the notes.

The first one was simple, tucked between a small potted mint plant and her front door.

"Grazie, Maya. I hope you don’t mind, but I couldn’t leave your window box empty. Enjoy the mint!" —Carina

A few days later, after a challenging shift, she was greeted by the aroma of roast tomatoes and Italian herbs and a neatly wrapped meal on her doorstep. Fresh pasta, still warm, with a note beside it.

"A little thank you for letting me use the garden. Hope you like it. —C"

Maya had practically inhaled the food. It was one of the best things she had ever eaten. Another time, after coming home from Portland late at night, she had found a tiny envelope with a pressed sprig of rosemary inside.

"Herbs are better when shared. Hope training went well. —C"

Maya ran her fingers over the dried leaves, a small smile tugging at her lips as she breathed in the warm, familiar fragrance. She didn’t even know this woman, but somehow, she made her presence known. And for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she really wanted to meet her.