In which Jack can’t get enough of the way that Robby smells.

They both knew what was coming as soon as Jack’s phone went off. The designated ring tone serves as its own forewarning, so it’s not a surprise when Jack answers with a clipped Abbot, syllables bitten down as short as they can go. What’s out of the ordinary is Jack’s expression going cold as he listens to the voice in his ear, eyes hardening into something sharp as his mouth flattens, a harsh line slicing clean across his face.

That’s Robby’s first sign that this time is going to be different than all the rest.

“Well, this is a surprise.” Jack ambled up to the front door of his brownstone, not expecting to find Robby sitting on the stoop. “Thought you’d be half-way to Alberta by now.”

“Hi.” Head down, Robby rubbed his hands like he’d just doused them with sanitizer. Instead of offering an explanation, he looked both ways, up and down the empty block.

And hell, if Robby was going to get all up in Jack’s business, he could return the favor. “Why didn’t you tell me you were on shift today?”

Jack actually felt Robby tense against him. “I told you I was leaving today.”

Which didn’t actually answer his question. “As the priests liked to remind me, a lie by omission is still a sin,” he drawled.

Jack tries to make Robby talk.

It was hard, damn near impossible, for a man like Robby to make himself small. Tall, broad-shouldered, wingspan of Michael Phelps, hands like bear paws. Robby didn’t shrink, didn’t hide, not usually.

Jack walks in on Robby doing some home repairs.

Dana watched, a little worried, as Dr. Abbot stalked towards her. He never meant to walk like he was angry, but his time in the Army made it impossible for him to go anywhere without looking like a man on a mission. Technically, her shift didn’t start for another 6 minutes and she considered passing him off to Bridget, but he rolled to a stop by her desk, eyes intense.

“You got an extra PB&J sandwich in your fridge?”

What Robby wants and what Jack wants are two different things.

When he’s not on HBO, Shawn Hatosy is reading ‘70s paperbacks and eyeing a few adaptations he’d like to see hit the big screen.

The war is over. Nicky waits.

They had spaghetti for dinner—store-bought spaghetti with jarred sauce and the last of the parmesan out of the plastic shaker, Robby’s idea. It was quick and it was easy and there was plenty for both of them, and as Robby collected the dishes and rinsed them at the sink, Jack ruminated on how fucking delightful it was to be with someone who just wanted to eat spaghetti alongside him.

“If nurses and doctors care for a guy like this in real life, that’s a tribute to the health-care system,” says Ernest Harden Jr., who plays Louie in The Pitt.

As season one of The Pitt wound down, Patrick Ball was convinced his character wouldn’t be returning to the show. “The ego of an actor means, generally speaking, you’re always sure that you’re the worst one and that you’re the most likely to get fired,” he laughs. “I, however, did have a unique claim to this anxiety because my character was literally fired from the hospital — and he did steal drugs.”

The idea of bossing you around is almost tempting enough to lure me from the beach.

The email was from Brian Price, who'd done his residency at PTMC before covid, then sailed straight into a cushy gig at Cedars thanks to family connections and Adamson's recommendation. Robby had quietly hated him, happy to see him go.

Brian's email included a forwarded job listing, seeking a temporary Chief of Emergency Medicine for PTMC, to start July 4th, Robby's last day before his sabbatical. Jack had been expecting Gloria to ask him to step up.

He'd heard nothing from her. And now this, as good as announcing the news: they were bringing in an external hire.

Dana shot him a meaningful look. “She up and says to me that Robby can’t stand to be alone, has got the TV on in his bedroom all night.”

Jack scoffed. “No, he doesn’t.”

Dana stilled, her blue eyes locking onto his. And just like that, it went from an idle comment to a moment. A moment that expanded, curling into something weighty, settling leaden in Jack’s gut. “That right?” she muttered, and there was a whole epic journey packed into those two words, going from how would you know all the way to how did I not know.

Fuck.

Jack drifts slowly toward wakefulness, grumpily aware there’s someone else in the room. He opens one eye and peers balefully toward the bedroom door, where Robby’s leaning, a look of professional patience on his face.

“Fuck off,” grumbles Jack.

When Robby turns, Jack is standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

Neither of them speaks. Jack is staring at him in that way– the way he looked that night, twenty fucking years ago, all unreserved heat and everything unspoken.

He pushes off the doorframe and moves forward.

Slowly, careful not to jostle anything on the counter, Samira takes two steps across the tiled bathroom floor until she can see Trinity and Parker again. Just to keep an eye on them, so I know when they’re leaving, Samira tells herself, deliberately ignoring the shiver that washes over her as she peers through the crack in the door. Samira can just make out the edge of a bed behind Parker, and the thought — the possibility — makes her lower belly clench with sudden, traitorous heat.

They look incredible together, the lamplight by the bed casting them both in a deep, bronze glow, shadows slip-sliding down to the space between their bodies. Trinity’s hair is loose around her shoulders, Parker cupping the back of Trinity’s head as they kiss, and Parker’s shoulder flexes slightly as she pulls Trinity closer.

They…this is not my fault, they shouldn’t be doing this…Parker’s her attending, this is so…so…

So hot, Samira squashes the thought before it can fully form, refusing to acknowledge the pu

Jack wants breakfast, Robby cares too much, and now they’re mixed up in an armed robbery.