Callie barely glanced up from the X-ray in her hands as she heard someone enter the room. Another case, another fractured tibia. "If you're here to tell me ortho isn't important, save it. I've heard it all before." But there was no immediate response. She finally looked up.

Oh.

Callie recognized them. Not by name, not yet, but by the way their presence felt oddly familiar—like a face she should have remembered from a case, a passing conversation. A lingering glance across the hospital halls.

"You need something, or are we just making intense eye contact for fun?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

They hesitated. Callie noticed their badge for the first time. Intern.

Shit.

She exhaled sharply, turning back to the X-ray. "If this is about a consult, you’re gonna have to wait. I’ve got two surgeries today, and I don't have time to hold an intern's hand through their first broken bone."

They said something—too quiet. Callie hated that she wanted to hear it, that she wanted to close the space between them and just know.

"Look," she said, a little too quickly, a little too sharp. "If you're smart, you’ll keep your head down and focus on medicine. Not me."

"Get back to work, intern."

Callie turned away before she could see their reaction. Before she could second-guess the way her heart had started to race.

“You know what?”Callie swallowed and shifted her weight. “Fine. You wanna learn something? Scrub in. But I’m not babysitting.”