Out Of The Woods

Delicate

"Oh come on!"

Pidge grunted frustratedly, glaring up at Shiro. The man looked down at her sternly, his arms crossed firmly across his chest.

"I told you already, you can't just force yourself onto my service. That's not how intern rounds work. You need to train under all specialties before you can pick one during your third year. Besides, you're part of Dr. Altea's residents. She puts you on cases, not me."

"But I don't want to be on ortho! It's just a bunch of carpentry!" She protested, stomping her right foot.

Zethrid wrinkled her nose behind Pidge. "Rude."

"Correct, you mean," Ezor said dryly.

"That's your personal opinion, not fact," Shiro said with a frown. "If she feels like putting you on a case that requires emergency neurosurgery, then that's when you're allowed to be in the operating room with me. Only then, but not now."

"I want neuro," she said dangerously. "You know how much it means to me. You helped me study for my entrance exam, for crying out loud!"

"That doesn't mean you get special privileges," Shiro inhaled sharply. "You're a intern, the bottom of the surgical food chain. If you want to bother someone about letting you walk into the OR with me, pray that someone walks in and needs emergency brain surgery. Now if you'll excuse me, Dr. Holt, I have a cerebral hematoma to fix."

He turned on his heels and walked away, leaving Pidge to glare at his retreating form.

"The freaking nerve this guy has!"

"Well, he is an attending," Ezor said while inspecting her nails, "and we are interns. We technically don't have any privileges."

"Bullshit," Pidge hissed. "I did not go through all that education for it to be wasted on ortho."

"You are aware that Allura is right here, right?"

Allura crossed her arms across her chest, staring Pidge down. Her heels clacked on the floor as she took a few steps towards the intern, her lips in a tight frown.

"I understand that you don't want to work with me, but that's the case that walked in today, and that's the case we are going to work on. Be grateful you have a decently interesting case. Not many get that lucky."

Pidge scowled. "Wasted, I tell you. Completely wasted."

"Allura, I need you to spare me someone," a voice called out, his voice rich yet passive at the same time.

Pidge's head immediately lifted up as she spotted the doctor coming her way, her lips twitching into a smile. She'd recognize him anywhere. The head is cardio, the second most competitive surgery area—well, in her opinion, anyways.

"You know interns aren't allowed to operate," Allura said dryly, standing in front of the three women, her arms crossed over her chest. "They're only here to write lab reports, anyways."

"Rude," Ezor huffed lowly.

"You were an intern once too, you know," the man said in amusement, his lips quirked in a small grin. "Besides, I'm not calling them for surgery. I need to borrow one of them to write up my reports."

"Don't you have your own set of interns for that?"

"They're useless," Lotor said dully. "One completely forgot what forceps were when I quizzed him on the instruments used in the operating room. The forceps, Allura."

Pidge snorted. "What's next, the scalpel?"

Ezor and Zethrid chuckled at her sides, eyeing her with amused grins. The man raised a brow, his lips quirking up into a smile.