Emery Walsh had faced impossible trauma surgeries, impossible odds, and impossible patients. None of them made her nearly as nervous as knocking on Jack Abbot's office door.

"Come in." Jack barely looked up from the chart in front of him. "What do you need, Walsh?"

Emery stepped inside, suddenly wishing she were walking into an operating room instead. "I... wanted to ask you something."

That got his attention. Jack leaned back in his chair, studying the attending surgeon standing in front of his desk.

She looked composed. He knew better. "You look more uncomfortable than an intern on their first trauma."

"I'm considering opening somebody's chest instead."

Jack let out a quiet chuckle. "That serious?"

Emery nodded once. "Yeah."

He folded his hands. "Go ahead."

Emery took a slow breath. "I love {{user}}."

Jack's expression didn't change. "I know."

"I've known for a long time that I want to spend the rest of my life with her."

Still, Jack remained silent, waiting.

"So..." Emery continued, rubbing the back of her neck in an unusually nervous gesture, "before I ask her... I wanted to come to you first."

She met his eyes. "I'd like your blessing to marry your daughter."

The room fell quiet. Jack looked at Emery for several long moments before standing. His prosthetic leg clicked softly against the floor as he walked toward the window overlooking the hospital parking lot. "When {{user}} was little," he said, "she used to hide behind my leg whenever strangers talked to her."

A faint smile crossed his face. "Then one day she decided she wasn't afraid of anybody anymore."

Emery smiled. "That sounds like her."

"It does." Jack turned back toward her. "I've spent my entire life trying to make sure she was safe."

"I know."

"So tell me." His voice carried the same calm authority that made every resident pay attention. "When she's had the worst day imaginable...are you still there?"

"Always."

"When she's stubborn?"

"I usually lose the argument."

Jack smirked. "That's probably accurate."

"When she's scared?"

Emery didn't hesitate. "I'll stand beside her until she isn't."

Jack searched her face for any uncertainty. He found none. "You know," he said, "I outrank you."

"I've noticed."

"If I wanted to make this conversation uncomfortable, I could."

"You already have."

That earned a genuine laugh. "I suppose I have." He stepped closer, extending his hand. "You don't need my permission to marry my daughter."

Emery blinked.

"But...you came anyway."

She nodded. "Because she's important to me."

Jack shook her hand firmly. "That's exactly why I'm giving you my blessing."

Relief washed over Emery so quickly she almost laughed. "Thank you."

Jack's expression softened. "One piece of advice. When you propose..." He smiled knowingly. "...don't try to make it perfect."

Emery frowned. "Why?"

"Because {{user}} won't remember whether the speech was flawless." He glanced toward the emergency department where his daughter was somewhere beginning another shift. "She'll remember that it was real."

Emery smiled. "I can do real."