Chapter 03
For the second time in three days, Teddy is heading to Seattle Presbyterian Hospital.
That’s more than she’s done in the past few years since coming back to Seattle. More than she ever thought she would. And yet, here she is, once again, standing in front of Cass’s office door, her uncertain fingers grazing the wood before knocking.
She’s not at all surprised that doctors on shift eye her with suspicion—some curious, others wary. Still, they whisper, their words only reaching her in fragmented pieces.
Teddy ignores them. And it's easy to do.
It’s easy to ignore the glances skimming over her figure. Easy to ignore the comments about her. In war, people have said worse. Done worse.
The official reason for her visit is simple: she promised spa tickets, two passes for two days. She's just keeping her word.
The unofficial reason, however, is different. She wants to see her. Talk to her. Maybe even kiss her. But most of all, talk.
Teddy waits in silence, rocking slightly on her heels, occasionally meeting the curious eyes of the staff.
They know who she is.
Everyone knows who she is, ever since she became Chief of Surgery at Grey Sloan Memorial. And anyone who didn’t know last time she was at Seattle Presbyterian definitely knows now—after the presentation. After she openly admitted that this hospital, and Cass, had helped her.
That acknowledgement earned her their respect. Or at least made them stop hating her. But if they knew she wanted to steal away their best surgeon, that she was doing everything she could to convince her to switch sides…
They’d probably go back to despising her. Maybe even more than before.
The wait drags on.
No one comes to the door.
Teddy presses her lips together, glancing down the hallway.
Cass doesn’t want to see her. That much is clear now.
She doesn’t know why. And that’s what stings.
It all happened too suddenly, unexpectedly, with no apparent reason. And Teddy isn’t sure she’ll be able to get it out of her head anytime soon. She’s not sure she’ll be able to get Cass out of her head anytime soon.
She tightens her grip on the tickets, quickly glancing around. The hallway clears for a moment. She lowers the handle and slips inside, closing the door behind her with a swift, silent motion.
The last thing she needs is more gossip about her. There’s already enough.
She moves with purpose, placing the tickets on the desk. Then she searches for a piece of paper, something to leave a note on. She’ll be quick. Just a simple “Thank you” scribbled on a blank sheet.
Simple. Clean.
Nothing that might make Cass think she’s trying to cross the boundaries she’s set. Even if those boundaries have never felt so unbearable.
Teddy’s gaze scans the office in search of paper when she hears a sound.
A voice.
Cass’s voice.
Greeting a staff member as the sound of her footsteps draws closer.
Teddy’s heart leaps into her throat. Her blood turns to ice.
Her eyes dart around the office, searching for an escape route.
She doesn’t want to be caught here. Not by her. Not after Cass made it clear she didn’t want to talk.
Maybe you shouldn't have come in without permission… a voice in her head scolds. But she pushes it away. Not the time.
She needs to think of a way out.
But how? There’s no time to slip out unseen. No open windows, no closet to hide in.
The only way out is the door. And just as she stares at it, the handle turns.
Teddy holds her breath.
Cass walks in, closing the door behind her with a deep sigh. She leans against the wood, eyes closed behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses. With an automatic motion, she flips the lock into place.
Teddy’s heart pounds in her chest. Too loud. Too fast.
She holds her breath.
Waits for Cass to notice her.
Should she say something? Let her know she’s here?
She opens her mouth to speak—
But at that moment, Cass removes her sunglasses.
And Teddy sees.
Her breath catches in her throat.
Cass’s face looks tired. Worn. Lacking her usual confidence and certainty.
And then she sees it.
The bruise.
Dark. Purple. Standing out against her pale skin, surrounding her eye.
Teddy’s eyes widen. Horror crashes over her like an icy wave. “Cass…” she whispers, voice thick with concern, gaze fixed on the mark. “Your face.” Instinctively, she moves toward her.
Cass flinches. The sunglasses slip from her fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud. “T-Teddy?” she stammers.
Cass never stammers. If Teddy weren’t so worried, she might’ve been surprised.
“How did you get in?” Cass asks, but her voice is a bit too fast, a bit too sharp.
Teddy ignores the question. She doesn’t care. Not now. “What happened?” she asks, low and serious.
The distance between them closes.
Cass looks away, her body rigid. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.” Teddy hesitates only a moment before adding, “It matters to me.”
Cass swallows. Nervous. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
She steps away, long, purposeful strides putting space between them.
She moves to the desk, turning her back to Teddy, pouring herself coffee with hands that barely tremble.
Teddy watches her. “Let me see.”
Cass grips her cup. “I told you, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”
“Well, I am.”
Cass exhales sharply, frustrated. “It’s none of your business.”
Teddy clenches her jaw. Her gut screams something’s wrong. And before she can stop herself, the words spill out. “Are you in danger?”
Cass freezes. “It’s not your concern,” she replies, voice like a blade, avoiding her gaze.
Teddy’s fists clench. “Cassandra.”
Cass finally looks up. And the way she looks at Teddy hurts more than any sharp reply. “Theodora.”
A chill runs down Teddy’s spine.
No one calls her that. Not anymore. Not since her parents died. Not since Allison.
Silence falls between them.
But she doesn’t look away.
Something happened.
Something Cass doesn’t want to talk about.
And Teddy doesn’t know if it’s pride, or fear.
“Just leave, Teddy.”
Teddy takes another step forward. “Let me see,” she says softly. Her voice is gentle. “And then I’ll go. I promise.”
Cass opens her mouth, then closes it.
She doesn’t know what to do.
And Teddy sees it—clear as day.
She steps even closer. “Please.”
At last, with a trembling breath, Cass nods.
Teddy approaches her just as Cass takes a couple of steps toward her.
They meet halfway, so close their breaths nearly touch.
Cass’s scent surrounds her: a familiar blend of coffee and something sweeter, clouding Teddy’s senses. Her heart quickens slightly.
The last time they were this close, Cass kissed her.
The memory flashes through her like an electric current. Her fingers tremble slightly as she tucks Cass’s hair behind her shoulder, revealing her face.
It’s soft. Softer than she expected. But not as soft as her lips against hers.
Teddy swallows hard, pushing that thought away. “Did you get checked out?” she asks, focusing on the bruise.
“Yes,” Cass replies, voice lower than usual. “The day it happened. After we said goodbye at Grey Sloan.”
Teddy nods, gently cupping Cass’s chin. She tilts it slightly to the right, examining the bruise. It’s fresh, but thankfully the eye itself wasn’t directly hit. No subconjunctival hemorrhage. No traumatic iritis. Just a bit of swelling that would fade soon.
She exhales a little more deeply. “Do you have arnica cream?”
“Top drawer of the desk,” Cass says, moving to retrieve it.
But Teddy’s faster. “I’ve got it,” she says, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You sit.”
She expects protest. Expects Cass to roll her eyes, to pull back out of principle.
But she doesn’t.
For the first time, she obeys without question.
Teddy watches her move to the couch, her posture rigid. And only when there’s more than a meter between them does Teddy realize she had been holding her breath. She exhales slowly, quietly, as she steps behind the desk.
She opens the drawer, grabs the cream, and quickly returns to Cass.
She pauses for just a second when she catches Cass looking at her. A soft look. Almost kind.
A shiver runs down Teddy’s spine. She swallows, trying to mask her nerves.
But it’s pointless.
Her legs tremble slightly as she positions herself in front of Cass. “Tell me if it hurts,” she says, her voice gentler than she meant.
Cass nods, but Teddy already knows she won’t.
With a featherlight touch, almost hesitant, she brushes Cass’s skin with her fingers. The motion is slow, delicate. Barely perceptible, but enough to ease the tension in Cass’s muscles.
She says nothing. But Teddy feels her body relax under her touch. Sees her eyes close briefly as she sinks into the couch.
Teddy smiles. Just barely.
Her hand moves along the edge of the bruise, skimming warm skin. But then her gaze drops, lingering a second too long.
Her lips.
Part slightly.
And Teddy feels her pulse hammering in her throat.
For one reckless second, she wonders what it would feel like to ki—
No.
She jerks back.
Lets go of Cass’s face like it burned her and steps away.
She can’t want this.
Can’t do this.
Not again.
And yet… it’s exactly what she wants.
She clears her throat, desperate to steady herself. “All done.”
She turns abruptly, heading to the desk to put the cream away. She doesn’t make it two steps before she feels fingers gently wrap around her wrist.
A light, firm touch.
Holding her there.
Pulling her back.
Teddy turns, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Cass looks at her. “Thank you,” she whispers, offering a small smile.
A hesitant smile. Uncertain. But so sincere it nearly brings Teddy to her knees.
She glances down at their hands, unable to move. Unable to pull away. As Cass traces slow, delicate circles against her palm,
Teddy feels the warmth of her touch burning into her skin.
“I’m sorry for how I treated you,” Cass murmurs.
Teddy swallows, pushing back the wave of emotion rising in her chest. She shrugs slightly. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
But it’s not. Because nothing with Cass is ever really simple.
Cass shakes her head firmly, guilt clouding her gaze. “No, it’s not okay. I want to make it right.”
Teddy looks at her, surprised. Her heart leaps. “Last time, we talked about going to a spa…” she ventures, voice more uncertain than she wants. She tries to smile, but part of her braces for rejection. Another one.
Cass sighs. “Teddy…” Slowly, she lets go of her hand, and Teddy instantly misses the contact. She doesn’t even need Cass to finish the sentence to know what she’s going to say. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. You…”
Teddy huffs, crossing her arms. “Tomorrow, you can go back to respecting my boundaries. Today, screw the boundaries, Cass.”
Cass’s eyes widen in surprise. And then she laughs. A low, warm laugh that lights up her eyes. “Wow. Theodora Altman swearing.”
Teddy tilts her head, amused. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Cassandra Beckman.”
Cass raises an intrigued brow. “Like what?”
That tone.
Low. Hoarse.
Suggestive.
The one that always makes Teddy unravel.
For a moment, her gaze drifts to the bruise on Cass’s face. “I could teach you how to fight.” The words slip out before she can stop them. “I was in the army. You know I can.”
Cass stiffens instantly. Her expression darkens, her jaw tightens.
Teddy immediately regrets saying it.
“There’s no need,” Cass replies, eyes dropping as she nervously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
But Teddy doesn’t back down. “I want to,” she insists, firmer. “I want to teach you. I want you to be safe.” She hesitates for a beat before adding: “And I want you to come work for me.”
I want you. She bites her lip hard to push that thought away. That desire.
“Alright.”
Teddy’s eyes widen. “Really?” she asks, a smile forming.
“Really.” Cass nods, lifting her gaze to meet hers.
Teddy’s heart swells in her chest. “You’ll come work for me?” she asks, almost incredulous.
Cass scoffs, like the answer is obvious. “To get you to teach me, of course.” She pauses, just for a second. Then her lips curl into a smile, one of those mischievous ones that spell trouble. “But if you want to convince me to actually work for you, you’ll have to offer me a lot more.”
Teddy holds her breath. “More?”
Cass doesn’t answer right away.
She just lets her gaze drift over Teddy, slowly, as if savoring every detail. When her eyes linger on her lips, Teddy feels her pulse spike in her throat.
Then Cass looks up again, an amused expression lighting up her dark eyes. “I’m sure you’ll think of something, Theodora.”
That name.
That damn name on Cass’s lips.
It sends another shiver down Teddy’s spine.
But the truth is, it’s not the name.
It’s Cass. Cass looking at her that way. Knowing exactly the effect she has on her, and using it mercilessly.
Just like Teddy knows that whatever Cass asks for, her answer will always be the same.