Uniquely qualified 1/1
Title: Uniquely Qualified
Author: Neolithicdream
Characters: Dr. Arizona Robbins, Dr. Miranda Bailey.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Set near end of Ep. 7.22 - references back to Season 5 but inspired by a deleted scene from 7.22. Motherhood changes you but what if you’re a Peds surgeon who never wanted any of this.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libellous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
“You smoke?”
“What, Bailey, uh, no, uh, don’t tell Calliope! Please? Look the packs open but I haven’t...they’re all there, I just...I used to...when....you know...rarely... if I ...stressed but then Sofia and... I quit, I did... and...please don’t tell her”
It was probably one of the least used rooms in the hospital, the 3rd floor Attendings lounge. No-one quite knew why, maybe it was because it was on the wrong side of the building and didn’t get its share of the sometimes limited Seattle sun; maybe it was because it was much smaller and darker than the ones on the Second and Fourth floors. Maybe it was because the coffee machine in the 3rd floor lounge was particularly notorious - for whatever reason if you wanted to hide away without actually hiding away - this was the attending’s lounge to visit.
Bailey went there because occasionally when she just needed a little space - a place where she was not the ‘Nazi’, nor Eli’s girlfriend -so she had been surprised to see the room occupied, more so by the blonde Peds surgeon - one of the more sociable attendings in the hospital and a woman she now considered to be a close friend notwithstanding their own rocky start. That surprise was nothing compared to the sight of the blonde twirling a pack of cigarettes in one hand while flicking on and off a ‘Zippo’ lighter with the other.
She gave her the famed Bailey stare as she walked into the room and sat at the opposite end of the somewhat tattered couch.
“So?”
There was a long silence - the Bailey stare was formidable but Arizona Robbins had grown up the daughter of a marine, in a military family and as much as she respected Miranda Bailey her stare would not cause her to shrink, she was not her boss, she was not her father she was not an authority figure - but she was her friend.
“I..I can’t...I’m not sure I can do this anymore, I mean, not the way I did be....before...”
“...before?
“...Sofia, before Sofia, before...I was a mo...before I had a daughter”
“Sofia is 6 months old - what brought this on?” Robbins was her friend - a friendship partially based on her relationship with Torres but mostly based on them, the people they were - Miranda Bailey and Arizona Robbins - two committed doctors, two decent people trying to be the best people they could be, the best doctors they could be.
“The lone survivor, she could be, she looks like an older version of... she could be Sof...” the rest of the sentence disappeared, engulfed in a sob.
“I don’t ...I don’t understand...She’s okay right, the little girl but she’s fine right?” A slight inflection in Bailey’s voice.
Surgeons liked to cut. It didn’t matter whether you were a Cardio or an Ortho; General or Peds. All surgeons liked to, wanted to, needed to cut. It was why they were surgeons, after all. They liked to cut so that they could fix because the need to fix, to repair, to make better was why they were doctors. Sometimes on quiet days they hoped for traumas to come rolling in; not because they wanted to see people ill or dying or in pain but so that they could cut and fix and repair what was broken. So that they could be surgeons. And in the case of Dr. Miranda Bailey and Dr. Arizona Robbins - well they were both fine surgeons - the best - they were at the top of their game and there was nowhere else and nothing else either woman knew to be.
Today was not a good day. Not for the passengers of a certain plane nor their families. Not for the first responders, the police, the paramedics. Not for the staff of SGMW. There was no cutting today; there was no fixing today. There was nothing left to fix of the passengers and crew of that ill-fated plane. The corridors echoed with the sounds of grief for hours as one by one the families were informed of their losses. The worst part of the job of being a surgeon, a doctor and today every doctor in the hospital had to perform that part.
Bailey and Robbins had both met their share of the families - watched as their words changed lives, destroyed hope, caused heartbreak. Today was not a good day. And then when all hope seemed extinguished a sole survivor was found, a young girl, brown eyed, dark hair, sallow skin. Suffering from severe hypothermia and her share of injuries but she would survive, she would be fixed.
Arizona just nodded, confirming the little girl would be okay. Bailey’s silence felt like an interrogation. And she broke. “I used to be detached from this, we’re trained not to care, because it’s better that way, but now every time I see a preemie struggling I think of Sofia. Every time I see a child with brown eyes or even a Hispanic surname or...I see Sofia. How can I be their surgeon how can I give them the impartial care they need, they deserve if I’m thinking what if she gets ill or has an accident. When that little girl came in, she needed me to be the best I could be and I hesitated because she could be my Sofia”
“And then?” Bailey asked softly, already knowing the answer
Arizona looked at her quizzically “...uh, we assessed her and then Derek and I operated and...”
“And she’s going to be fine. The miracle girl, the one who lived”
“That’s not the point, the point is...”
“You think you’re a lesser surgeon now that you’re a Mom”
Arizona nodded unable to meet her friend’s eye, shame and a little self-loathing preventing her.
Bailey sighed loudly and moved over on the couch so that she was almost touching her blonde companion. “You may have been taught not to care, to be impartial but the Dr. Arizona Robbins I know, she cares, she has always cared and its one of the many things that makes her a damn fine surgeon and an awesome friend”
“Awesome? Bailey, seriously, did you just use the word awesome” Arizona couldn’t help but smile at how incongruous ‘her’ word sounded from Baileys lips. Then fell silent again.
“Ever since that day, when Sofia had heart surgery and when Stark.... I thought she was going to die and I,I couldn’t be there, I couldn’t stand to watch, to see her die and....I don’t know if I can be a surgeon and have their tiny lives in my hand anymore if I can’t be the best, if I’m scared to...”
“That day doesn’t count. That day you weren’t being a surgeon. That day you were being a Mommy and you were scared because when you’re a Mommy you’re scared all the time, even when you don’t know it but it doesn’t matter because even being scared is worth it because the joy being a Mommy brings beats the fear every time.”
Arizona couldn’t help smiling at that and laughed too “She is the most joyous, miraculous...she is” the smile was broader now and yet she still sighed.
Bailey stood up and beckoned for her companion to do the same and to follow her. As they walked towards the elevator she spoke. “A very wise, very talented surgeon once told me that the fact that I had stood helplessly by and watched as my friends and colleagues operated on my little boy, to save his life, made me uniquely qualified to be a Peds Surgeon”
Arizona stayed silent.
“Did you mean those words, Robbins?”
“I did”
Standing in the elevator now pushing the button for the Peds floor Bailey stared at her companion once more “So then, I think, that your experience with Sofia, as a tiny ill micro- preemie, as a baby battling against all the odds in the NICU, as her mother watching helplessly as your colleagues saved her - that doesn’t make you a lesser surgeon, if anything it will make you an even better one - a little different than before sure - but still a great one”
“Thanks, Miranda” Arizona said lowly but genuinely
“Oh don’t thank me yet” the shorter woman laughed as she grabbed the pack of cigarettes and lighter from the blonde.
“Hey, you can’t...” Arizona stopped as the stare began. Maybe it was being in a confined space but suddenly the Bailey stare seemed all powerful.
“Can I at least have my lighter back? It’s sort of a family heirloom, it belonged to my grandfather”
“Hmmff...Fine” she handed it back “don’t let me catch you smoking again or next time I will tell Torres”
Arizona visibly gulped at the thought of Callie’s reaction.
As the elevator doors opened onto Peds Miranda half pushed her out saying “Go see your patient, go see the joy” and then with a smile matched only by Arizona’s “then go home to see your own bundle of joy”
And so there she stood looking in through the window as the little girl slept peacefully, her traumatised mother sitting by her bedside with that look of relief mixed with fear so common on this ward. And as she stood there, staring in at the private scene, she saw it, ‘the joy’, why she did this job, ’the joy’ that her own tiny human brought her now and she saw in the face of that little girl what her own little girl might look like one day and she felt it ‘the joy’ and she couldn’t help but smile.
Moments later she felt their presence just as she heard the footsteps she would recognise anywhere and the mixed scents of her wife’s perfume and their baby’s fresh ‘baby’ smell.
And the whispered words that lifted her soul every time “Hey, here’s Mommy, say hi to Mommy” and her smile broadened at the sight of her family and as she reached out to take her in her arms Sofia just looked at her, recognising her and Arizona’s heart skipped a few beats.
“Hey big girl” and after kissing her lightly on the forehead and kissing her wife slightly less chastely she whispered “lets go home”
Author: Neolithicdream
Characters: Dr. Arizona Robbins, Dr. Miranda Bailey.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Set near end of Ep. 7.22 - references back to Season 5 but inspired by a deleted scene from 7.22. Motherhood changes you but what if you’re a Peds surgeon who never wanted any of this.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libellous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
“You smoke?”
“What, Bailey, uh, no, uh, don’t tell Calliope! Please? Look the packs open but I haven’t...they’re all there, I just...I used to...when....you know...rarely... if I ...stressed but then Sofia and... I quit, I did... and...please don’t tell her”
It was probably one of the least used rooms in the hospital, the 3rd floor Attendings lounge. No-one quite knew why, maybe it was because it was on the wrong side of the building and didn’t get its share of the sometimes limited Seattle sun; maybe it was because it was much smaller and darker than the ones on the Second and Fourth floors. Maybe it was because the coffee machine in the 3rd floor lounge was particularly notorious - for whatever reason if you wanted to hide away without actually hiding away - this was the attending’s lounge to visit.
Bailey went there because occasionally when she just needed a little space - a place where she was not the ‘Nazi’, nor Eli’s girlfriend -so she had been surprised to see the room occupied, more so by the blonde Peds surgeon - one of the more sociable attendings in the hospital and a woman she now considered to be a close friend notwithstanding their own rocky start. That surprise was nothing compared to the sight of the blonde twirling a pack of cigarettes in one hand while flicking on and off a ‘Zippo’ lighter with the other.
She gave her the famed Bailey stare as she walked into the room and sat at the opposite end of the somewhat tattered couch.
“So?”
There was a long silence - the Bailey stare was formidable but Arizona Robbins had grown up the daughter of a marine, in a military family and as much as she respected Miranda Bailey her stare would not cause her to shrink, she was not her boss, she was not her father she was not an authority figure - but she was her friend.
“I..I can’t...I’m not sure I can do this anymore, I mean, not the way I did be....before...”
“...before?
“...Sofia, before Sofia, before...I was a mo...before I had a daughter”
“Sofia is 6 months old - what brought this on?” Robbins was her friend - a friendship partially based on her relationship with Torres but mostly based on them, the people they were - Miranda Bailey and Arizona Robbins - two committed doctors, two decent people trying to be the best people they could be, the best doctors they could be.
“The lone survivor, she could be, she looks like an older version of... she could be Sof...” the rest of the sentence disappeared, engulfed in a sob.
“I don’t ...I don’t understand...She’s okay right, the little girl but she’s fine right?” A slight inflection in Bailey’s voice.
Surgeons liked to cut. It didn’t matter whether you were a Cardio or an Ortho; General or Peds. All surgeons liked to, wanted to, needed to cut. It was why they were surgeons, after all. They liked to cut so that they could fix because the need to fix, to repair, to make better was why they were doctors. Sometimes on quiet days they hoped for traumas to come rolling in; not because they wanted to see people ill or dying or in pain but so that they could cut and fix and repair what was broken. So that they could be surgeons. And in the case of Dr. Miranda Bailey and Dr. Arizona Robbins - well they were both fine surgeons - the best - they were at the top of their game and there was nowhere else and nothing else either woman knew to be.
Today was not a good day. Not for the passengers of a certain plane nor their families. Not for the first responders, the police, the paramedics. Not for the staff of SGMW. There was no cutting today; there was no fixing today. There was nothing left to fix of the passengers and crew of that ill-fated plane. The corridors echoed with the sounds of grief for hours as one by one the families were informed of their losses. The worst part of the job of being a surgeon, a doctor and today every doctor in the hospital had to perform that part.
Bailey and Robbins had both met their share of the families - watched as their words changed lives, destroyed hope, caused heartbreak. Today was not a good day. And then when all hope seemed extinguished a sole survivor was found, a young girl, brown eyed, dark hair, sallow skin. Suffering from severe hypothermia and her share of injuries but she would survive, she would be fixed.
Arizona just nodded, confirming the little girl would be okay. Bailey’s silence felt like an interrogation. And she broke. “I used to be detached from this, we’re trained not to care, because it’s better that way, but now every time I see a preemie struggling I think of Sofia. Every time I see a child with brown eyes or even a Hispanic surname or...I see Sofia. How can I be their surgeon how can I give them the impartial care they need, they deserve if I’m thinking what if she gets ill or has an accident. When that little girl came in, she needed me to be the best I could be and I hesitated because she could be my Sofia”
“And then?” Bailey asked softly, already knowing the answer
Arizona looked at her quizzically “...uh, we assessed her and then Derek and I operated and...”
“And she’s going to be fine. The miracle girl, the one who lived”
“That’s not the point, the point is...”
“You think you’re a lesser surgeon now that you’re a Mom”
Arizona nodded unable to meet her friend’s eye, shame and a little self-loathing preventing her.
Bailey sighed loudly and moved over on the couch so that she was almost touching her blonde companion. “You may have been taught not to care, to be impartial but the Dr. Arizona Robbins I know, she cares, she has always cared and its one of the many things that makes her a damn fine surgeon and an awesome friend”
“Awesome? Bailey, seriously, did you just use the word awesome” Arizona couldn’t help but smile at how incongruous ‘her’ word sounded from Baileys lips. Then fell silent again.
“Ever since that day, when Sofia had heart surgery and when Stark.... I thought she was going to die and I,I couldn’t be there, I couldn’t stand to watch, to see her die and....I don’t know if I can be a surgeon and have their tiny lives in my hand anymore if I can’t be the best, if I’m scared to...”
“That day doesn’t count. That day you weren’t being a surgeon. That day you were being a Mommy and you were scared because when you’re a Mommy you’re scared all the time, even when you don’t know it but it doesn’t matter because even being scared is worth it because the joy being a Mommy brings beats the fear every time.”
Arizona couldn’t help smiling at that and laughed too “She is the most joyous, miraculous...she is” the smile was broader now and yet she still sighed.
Bailey stood up and beckoned for her companion to do the same and to follow her. As they walked towards the elevator she spoke. “A very wise, very talented surgeon once told me that the fact that I had stood helplessly by and watched as my friends and colleagues operated on my little boy, to save his life, made me uniquely qualified to be a Peds Surgeon”
Arizona stayed silent.
“Did you mean those words, Robbins?”
“I did”
Standing in the elevator now pushing the button for the Peds floor Bailey stared at her companion once more “So then, I think, that your experience with Sofia, as a tiny ill micro- preemie, as a baby battling against all the odds in the NICU, as her mother watching helplessly as your colleagues saved her - that doesn’t make you a lesser surgeon, if anything it will make you an even better one - a little different than before sure - but still a great one”
“Thanks, Miranda” Arizona said lowly but genuinely
“Oh don’t thank me yet” the shorter woman laughed as she grabbed the pack of cigarettes and lighter from the blonde.
“Hey, you can’t...” Arizona stopped as the stare began. Maybe it was being in a confined space but suddenly the Bailey stare seemed all powerful.
“Can I at least have my lighter back? It’s sort of a family heirloom, it belonged to my grandfather”
“Hmmff...Fine” she handed it back “don’t let me catch you smoking again or next time I will tell Torres”
Arizona visibly gulped at the thought of Callie’s reaction.
As the elevator doors opened onto Peds Miranda half pushed her out saying “Go see your patient, go see the joy” and then with a smile matched only by Arizona’s “then go home to see your own bundle of joy”
And so there she stood looking in through the window as the little girl slept peacefully, her traumatised mother sitting by her bedside with that look of relief mixed with fear so common on this ward. And as she stood there, staring in at the private scene, she saw it, ‘the joy’, why she did this job, ’the joy’ that her own tiny human brought her now and she saw in the face of that little girl what her own little girl might look like one day and she felt it ‘the joy’ and she couldn’t help but smile.
Moments later she felt their presence just as she heard the footsteps she would recognise anywhere and the mixed scents of her wife’s perfume and their baby’s fresh ‘baby’ smell.
And the whispered words that lifted her soul every time “Hey, here’s Mommy, say hi to Mommy” and her smile broadened at the sight of her family and as she reached out to take her in her arms Sofia just looked at her, recognising her and Arizona’s heart skipped a few beats.
“Hey big girl” and after kissing her lightly on the forehead and kissing her wife slightly less chastely she whispered “lets go home”