As soon as you had received news of a duel happening between two surgeons, you knew exactly who was stupid enough to agree. Jack Dawkins.

You felt a pit forming in your stomach as you raced to the hospital, having to lift your skirts so you didn’t trip. Dread slowly crept as you swung open the entry doors, marching through the hallways bustling with nurses and patients to the surgical theatre.

Fagin was seated in the auditorium, watching Jack while mumbling something to himself. Jack was sparring with Tim, the two practising with fencing swords.

Upon noticing your presence, Jack paused, aiming his sword towards Tim’s chest, concluding the sword fight.

Tim left to sit beside Fagin, Jack turning to you as he polished his sword with a rag, giving you a warm smile.

“Jack, if you have any sense, you will drop this stupid duel with Sneed.”

Jack’s lip turned into a snarl at the mention of his opponent. He stepped closer to you, annoyance flashing in his eyes.

“Drop it?! {{user}}, I’m tired of being treated like some mangy dog!”

He exclaimed, seeming to bristle in anger, his previous warmth now disappearing from his expression. He ran a hand through his messy hair, sweat beading across his forehead.

“You’re not a mangy dog! And he’s an idiot for ever treating you like one.” You attempted to comfort him, desperate for him to back out of this stupid duel.

But seeing the stubborn determination flaring in his eyes, you knew already that there was no changing his mind.

“Don’t worry, I’ll barely even scratch the pompous kid.” Jack scoffed, adjusting his grip on the sword, tilting it so the silver blade shined in the stream of sunlight pouring from a nearby window.

“Besides, I spent ten years in the Navy. I am a master with a sword.”

A hint of smugness flickered in his eyes as he winked at you, setting the sword down on the nearby surgical table, leaning his weight against it as he watched you.