{{user}} leaned against the polished wooden bar at Emerald City Bar, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. The dim light cast a warm glow over the room, softening the edges of her exhaustion.

The surgery had been intense, more than she'd ever imagined. Dr. Arizona Robbins had invited her to assist, and {{user}} had jumped at the chance. The patient, a kid with bruises, lacerations, internal injuries, had needed a kidney transplant. Dr. Mark Sloan, the renowned plastic surgeon, had led the team. And then there was Jackson Avery, the charming intern who always seemed to have a smile ready.

As they'd worked together, {{user}} had felt the adrenaline surge through her veins. The delicate dance of scalpels, the precise sutures—it was both terrifying and exhilarating. She'd watched Dr. Robbins with awe, her mentor's hands steady even under pressure. And Jackson, always calm and focused, had handed her instruments with a smile that made her heart flutter.

"Another round?" Jackson's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up to find him standing beside her. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes held a mix of exhaustion and mischief.