Work Text:
“Doctor Darling, what a pleasure!” Tobias Carrick crowed, slipping up beside her, drink in hand.
Caylinn rolled her eyes, putting her empty wine glass down on the bar behind her, before turning to take in Mass Kenmore’s head Diagnostician. She did have to admit that he was a handsome man, the blue of his eyes bright in the dusky color of his skin, and his smile, although a shark quality to it, was charming and bright. She wondered what it would be like to give in to it: would he be rough and demanding, sweet and playful or a wild card? Her thoughts scattered when he moved closer to her, placing a hand on the bar behind her, leaning casually on it.
“What brings you here, Carrick?” she asked, pleasantly. She decided to place in a little jab, “Here to try and poach more patients?”
“You wound me, Darling,” he answered, placing a hand to his heart mockingly, his lips curved in a teasing smile. He dropped his hand from his chest, putting it into his pants pocket, his smile turning genuine. “You look beautiful, Caylinn.”
She blushed, ducking her head with a smile, as she thanked him. She was wearing a simple dress: dark green satin, high-necked, with long sleeves, with a large cutout at her back, dipping low on her back, before falling simply to the ground, a thigh-high slit on her left leg. She had let Kyra pick out her dress, being guilted into the revealing style by the cancer-card, but she couldn’t be mad at her friend. Naveen Banerji had told the diagnostics team that they were going to a gala tonight, to try and raise money for the hospital by schmoozing with the rich and bored. Baz was currently speaking politics with an older gentleman at the bar across from her; June was flitting around like a social butterfly, her mannerisms changing with each person she encountered; and Ethan had been dragged into a conversation on different Opera’s that had come to town. Caylinn had been basically abandoned to fend for herself, uncertain and insecure in this glossy world, even with Baz so close to her.
“Would you like to dance?” Tobias asked, tilting his head towards the dance floor, holding his hand out. Caylinn smiled softly, placing her hand in his and allowing him to pull her with him. He placed his hand on her waist, holding her right hand aloft; she placed her hand on his shoulder, following his lead as they swayed together. “I’m going to be forward, now,” he murmured by her ear, his thumb brushing against the skin at the small of her back, and she hummed in response. She could feel his smile against her ear, and she waited. “You are an intelligent, beautiful woman, Caylinn. Emery has told me about how passionate you are about your patients, how much you care about them.”
She reared back, glowering up at him. “Are you trying to recruit me?”
He laughed, using the hand at the small of her back to reach up and tuck a stray strand of her red hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. With his hand still holding hers, he spun her slowly around, wrapping his arm around her stomach, and pulling her back against his chest, swaying easily with her, his mouth against her ear.
“I would be honored if you would come work with us,” he whispered against her ear, his breath causing goosebumps to break out across her skin. With his free hand, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around her throat, holding her chin in place, as he nipped the shell of her ear. “But I was thinking more of a mutually beneficial partnership.”
She let out a laugh, a soft tinkling thing, a surprised thing. “Are you propositioning me for sex?”
She felt him smile against her ear, a soft chuckle escaping him. “You’re not a one-night stand type of woman, Darling. I was thinking more like…dating.”
Caylinn spun in his arms, her eyebrows furrowed in a frown as she looked up at him. “You’re sleeping with June,” she said, slowly.
Tobias laughed. “June and I have had some fun, but we were never exclusive.” He sobered, a smile still lingering in his expression, and when he spoke again, he was serious. “I’m not getting any younger, Caylinn. I’m getting tired of the playboy scene. Come to dinner with me, and I’ll show you how serious I am.”
She shook her head, smiling ruefully. “This is another game to you, Tobias. Another way to one-up Ethan. As I told June, I am no one’s pawn.”
“You’re right, you’re not,” he answered. “You’re the queen: the mastermind behind the best strategies, and—when taken—debilitating to the player.”
“Charming,” she laughed. “What does that make you?”
“The knight, obviously,” he grinned down at her.
The surprise that lit up her face was delightful to him. “Not the king?”
“The king is limited,” he responded, spinning her around again, holding her to his chest and swaying with her. “The knight, on the other hand, is unpredictable, able to leap over the pawns to join in the fight.”
She laughed again, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. “You doing grunt work?”
He glanced down at her smiling lips, before dancing his eyes back up to hers. His hand slid back up to her throat, holding her in place, his gaze dropping back down to her lips. “If you don’t believe me,” he rumbled, softly. “Let me show you.”
And he captured her lips in a kiss.
*
When Ethan had been dragged into the conversation on opera, he had ordered Baz to keep an eye on Caylinn, explaining that she had never been to a gala like this before. Mirani had agreed happily, but when Ethan glanced at the man talking at the bar, he didn’t see his Rookie with him. Worry furrowed his brow, his gaze darting around until he saw her red hair and the sinful green dress on the dance floor with Tobias Carrick. He froze, watching the two of them together. They made such a sight on the dancefloor, moving gracefully together, bantering as they did. But then she laughed, the laugh that he took pride in shocking from her, the sound that made him want to continue trying to pull it from her.
He saw Tobias’ hand around her throat, and Ethan heard his raging heartbeat in his ears, unable to hear the discussion happening around him. He ground his teeth together when he saw the soft smile she gave Carrick, and he turned away sharply, taking a large gulp of the scotch in his hand. He added comments here and there into the conversation, his gaze continuing to find the pair on the dancefloor. He glowered as he watched them over the edge of his tumbler, the scotch burning down his throat, a slight distraction from the anger bubbling in his chest.
Then Tobias kissed her, and his vision went red.
He didn’t register the gasps at his table, didn’t even register that the tumbler in his hand shattered in his too hard grip. He shoved out of the chair, not caring whether it fell or not, focused on one thing, and one thing only: Caylinn was his and Tobias was going to learn that the hard way.
*
Kissing Tobias was like nothing she had experienced before. Bryce was playful, nipping and teasing; Rafael was sweet, soft and simple; and Ethan was like magic, wild and different every time. But Tobias was shocking and confident, as sure in himself as he was in being able to pull pleasure just from her lips. She imagined it was as dangerous as trying to touch an eel.
She barely registered the commotion around them, caught in the spell of Carrick’s lips. It was pleasant, something she would have completely enjoyed if she hadn’t already had her heart set on someone else. She pulled away from him, away from his lips, and out of his hold, smiling sadly at him. She opened her mouth to explain her feelings, when a hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her back, a fist coming out and striking Tobias in the cheek. She squeaked in surprise, when she was shoved into Baz’s arms and saw Ethan—generally calm, collected Ethan—in a physical fight with his rival.
Baz pulled her back away from the two men, his eyes wide, shocked just as much as she was. June came rushing forward, two security guards behind her, and the two burly men separated the two doctors, pulling them from the gala. June rounded on Baz and Caylinn and snapped, “Go after them! I’ll scavenge what we can here.”
Baz and Caylinn exchanged worried glances before rushing after the four men. Ethan and Tobias were yelling at each other as they stumbled out onto the street. At this point, they were keeping their distance from each other, but they were getting worked up with each insult thrown at each other.
“She’s a grown ass woman, Ramsey!” Tobias yelled, his fists clenched together at his sides. “You don’t own her!”
“You just want to prove everyone wants you,” Ethan shouted back, his face red, swinging his arm out to indicate the entirety of Boston. “You can have any one of them. Why her?”
“Because I can.”
“She’s mine,” Ethan snarled, taking a menacing step forward.
Tobias smirk was condescending as he folded his arms across his chest as he sneered, “I don’t see a collar, Ethan.”
It was then that Ethan noticed Caylinn and Baz, huddled together for warmth, both wide eyed and—in her case—terrified. Tobias noticed as well, adjusting his suit jacket and tie, holding his head high as he walked back into the party, refusing to look at any of them. Ethan had started pacing the sidewalk, running his hands through his hair, scrubbing through his beard, looking wild—like a panther in a cage.
He rounded on the two of them when they stepped closer, rage still clouding his senses. “You were supposed to be watching her!” he snarled at Baz, causing the other man to step back, arms raised in surrender.
Caylinn stepped in front of Ethan, her hand up, resting lightly on his chest, stopping him instantly. She turned towards Baz, murmuring, “Call him a cab.” Baz nodded quickly, pulling his phone out and rushing inside. She turned towards Ethan, her hand still on his chest, looking up at him, questioning. “What was that?” she asked, softly.
Ethan huffed, his body tensing as he started pacing again, looking wild. “He had no right. Groping you like that, here!”
“He didn’t grope me,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “He kissed me—”
“You’re mine,” he snarled, rounding on her again, grabbing her roughly by her shoulders, yanking her towards him, crashing his lips to hers in a heated, dominating kiss. His tongue rubbed against hers roughly, sliding across the roof of her mouth, removing the taste of Carrick from her mouth, leaving nothing but himself behind. She moaned into the kiss, her hands reaching up and gripping his tie, pulling herself closer to him. His hands moved up from her shoulders, one on either side of her neck, his thumbs tilting her chin up so that he could deepen the kiss, growling when her hands gripped his elbows, leveraging herself. The kiss softened, soft pecks against her lips as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, breathing harshly. “You’re mine,” he rasped.
“Always,” she answered.
He pulled back to look into her eyes, trying desperately to read them. She let him, keeping her gaze locked on his, her fingers twitching as she gripped his arms, just above his elbows. He nodded his head, believing her. “Come home with me.”
She smiled, shaking her head as she rolled her eyes. “That was always the plan.”
Baz came out then with her coat, helping her shrug into it, before stepping back and away, keeping his distance from his boss. Ethan eyed him, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into him. She smiled gently at Baz, communicating with him in that simple expression that everything was going to be fine. He nodded, heading back inside when the cab arrived.
*
He unlocked the door to his apartment, striding instantly to the liquor cart by his balcony door, pouring himself a tumbler of scotch, downing it instantly. She pursed her lips at him, wondering how much he had had to drink already tonight, but let it slide. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed under chest, wondering how this was going to go. They needed to talk, but she knew the instant he got his hands on her, talking wasn’t going to be an option.
Ethan placed the empty glass back on the cart, loosening his tie, running his free hand over his face, before scratching at his beard. He turned and looked at her, taking her in as he had when he first saw her in that dress.
She was absolutely stunning. Her fiery hair was pulled back in a messy bun, ringlets framing her face, her green eyes, the same color as her dress, were lined in black, her lashes plumped, making her eyes appear even wider than they normally were. And the dress—he sucked in breath as he let his gaze slowly drift over her body—it clung to every wonderful curve that she had, the cutout in the back starting as high as the nape of her neck, down to her lower back, dipping dangerously low to her ass, the thigh-high slit along her left leg a tease, even to him. His mouth watered as he devoured the sight in front of him.
“There’s a box on the kitchen counter,” he rasped, pulling his suit jacket off, and folding it neatly over the back of his couch, before pulling his tie completely off. She frowned at him, the irritation she must have for him evident in the tightness of her jaw, her eyebrow lifted coldly. “It’s for you.”
Surprise crossed her features, before being schooled behind indifference as she turned and walked to the kitchen. He followed her, slowly, keeping his distance, knowing they needed to talk, knowing that if, and when, he touched her, it would be put on the back burner. He leaned against the wall, watching as she studied the large, black velvet box on the counter, before she picked it up and opened it.
“Ethan,” she breathed, stunned. Resting on the velvet cushion inside the box was a gorgeous metal band. It was silver, shining brightly in kitchen pot-lights; it was a simple circlet, and, when she picked it up to examine it, she saw the engraving on the inside: In Perpetuum et Unum Diem. “’Forever and a day?’”
“Caylinn, our relationship is complicated: I am your direct supervisor and your dominant. There is a chance that your peers may think that you slept your way onto the team, and that—I never want that to be something they think, because you earned that position.” He breathed in deeply, wondering, for a moment, why this was so hard for him when he dealt with life and death every day. “When you came to me after Mrs. Martinez, I had previously prided myself on having short-term relationships with submissives, never getting attached, leaving when the benefits were no longer needed.
“But with you, Cayl—with you—forever isn’t enough time. I’m tired of hiding—from you, from everyone. I want you. I need you.” His voice had cracked, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, he needed her to know how he felt. “I’ve never collared a submissive before, I’ve also never slept with a subordinate. But you are the exception—to every single one of my rules.”
She looked away from the collar, looking up at him, her green eyes bright with emotion, how she always looked at him when he let her in—expressed his feelings—and he finally knew what it was: love. She loved him. He was floored by that, never expecting her to feel the same way that he did. She still hadn’t moved, hadn’t said anything, a hand on her hip, leg bent, her other hand fingering the collar in its box as she watched him. Their gazes were locked, and then she swallowed, tilting her chin up, defiantly, challenging him.
“Say it,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. He wanted to tease her, wanted to draw out this tension, as exciting as when he teased her body to a crest—but this wasn’t a game.
“I love you, Cayl,” he responded.
She made a noise like a whimper, her eyes closing as tears pooled over her lids, her lips trembling as she was overwhelmed with emotion. “Dum spiro, spero,” she breathed, swallowing down a sob. He crossed the room to her, cradling her face in his hands, tilting her head back to look at him. Her eyes opened, tears smearing her mascara, her eyelashes clumping together, but the emotion showing freely in the green depths, he couldn’t figure out how he had never seen it before. Her pronunciation of the latin phrase was off, but her meaning was clear: she had been holding out hope for this, for him, with every breath she drew.
“I love you,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, then her cheeks, whispering it over and over again as he kissed her tears, and then again when he kissed her lips.
She held his wrists in her hands, pulling back just a bit to watch his face, her expression morose. “Ethan, what does this mean?”
He smiled at her, gently, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone, before he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone, scrolling to Naveen’s contact and pressing dial. He kept his eyes on her, as he put the phone to his ear, watching her watch him as he waited. The line clicked as a connection was made.
“Hello?”
“Naveen, it’s Ethan,” he greeted, his voice clipped.
“I hope the gala was a success! But it is a bit late to be calling—”
“I’ve been in a relationship with Doctor Darling since before she joined the diagnostics team,” he said, cutting his friend off. The silence on the other end was deafening, but the shocked expression on Caylinn’s face had him smiling easily at her.
“We’re all aware of your relationship, Ethan. You weren’t exactly subtle.” He frowned in surprise, pulling the phone from his ear and putting it on speaker. “There was actually a running bet on whether the two of you would take it public. I have won quite a bit of money, so thank you.”
“What?” Caylinn exclaimed, shock crossing her beautiful features.
“Good evening, Doctor Darling! Congratulations on making it official! Of course, the two of you will need to go to HR and put in writing the nature of your relationship. They will discuss with you what will happen going forward. But neither of you need to worry about your current positions within the diagnostics team.”
The call ended not too long after that, but Caylinn still hadn’t moved closer to him. Ethan sighed, not knowing what to do at this point. She looked down at the collar again, her fingers touching it delicately, her eyebrows drawn together as she thought. Then she looked up at Ethan, a sparkle in her eye, her lips twitching with that mischievous smirk, and he felt his entire body relax.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked, her smirk winning and pulling her lips. His eyebrow lifted at her, and she let out a breathy laugh, as she picked up the box and held it out to him. “I need my tags in case I get out.”
He grinned at her, pulling the collar from the box, and fitting it around her neck. He pulled her hair from her bun, letting her red hair cascade around her shoulders, before he focused on the silver collar resting prettily against her throat. The possessiveness would never go away, he realized as he looked at his claim on her, it would always be a part of his relationship with her; but now it wasn’t as demanding, knowing that she was fully his now.
“I love you, apricus,” he whispered, letting her know that she was his sun, the light in his grey world, just not in so many words. She smiled, sweetly, understanding instantly.
“I love you, too, Ethan. Always.”