Chapter Text
The moment she stepped into the physiology classroom, the conversations dipped but not entirely.
Cassie Mckay noticed it enough to signal awareness.
Her shoes clicked smoothly against the tile floor, each step seemed louder than it should have been, cutting cleanly through the low hum of whispers that clung stubbornly to the room; unwilling to die.
She set her laptop down on the desk with quiet precision, the soft thud somehow commanding more attention than if she’d slammed it.
A strand of copper almost red under the fluorescent lights fell forward, and she tucked it behind her ear in one gentle motion, blue eyes sweeping across the room.
“Good morning students.” She said, calmly structured underneath.
A scattered sad chorus of “Good morning, professor.” Followed.
But instead of beginning the lecture, she leaned lightly against the edge of the desk, crossing her arms over the silk of her shirt. The fabric caught the light when she moved.
“Alright... before we begin.” She said, tilting her head slightly. “Would anyone like to share what’s apparently more interesting than human physiology?” She theoretically asked.
The murmuring stopped abruptly; And the silence settled.
In the second row, Santos exchanged a look with Emma Nolan, who quickly looked down at her notebook as if it had suddenly become fascinating and the blank page in front of her contained groundbreaking revelations Cassie had somehow already delivered.
Joy Kwon sat stiffly, trying very hard not to be involved, while Ogilvie and Whitaker, on the other hand, failed miserably at pretending.
They sat too still. The kind of posture that screamed we were absolutely just talking.
They looked less like university students and more like kids caught passing notes in class.
Cassie raised an eyebrow, unimpressed but not unkind. “No?”
There was still silence.
Then, reluctantly, Whitaker's scared eyes frowned with guilt and muttered. “It’s just... um…”
Cassie gestured lightly. “Go on.”
He swallowed hesitatingly, but in the same instant he blurted it all out. “We were talking about Professor Evans.”
That got a reaction.
A few students shifted in their seats at the moment they heard the name.
Emma winced slightly, her eyes darting anywhere but forward. And Trinity looked like she immediately regretted every decision that had led her to this exact moment.
Cassie’s expression didn’t change a bit but there was a flicker of something in her eyes.
Amusement.
“Professor Dana Evans.” Cassie repeated. Her voice remained even, but there was something different now, something quieter and more deliberate. Like she was tasting the name rather than just simply saying it.
Joy finally spoke, quieter but honest. “We heard she’s... really strict.” Her tone was cautious and measured. She was stepping into thin ice and was fully aware of it.
“Like, really strict.” Ogilvie added quickly. “People say she fails students for the smallest mistakes. Or not liking the font used.” “And that her exams are brutal.” Trinity said, folding her arms. “No one finishes on time.”
Emma glanced up hesitating, then forced the words out through clenched teeth. “Someone said she made a student cry last year.”
The room fell into an uneasy silence after that.
Cassie let it sit for a moment.
Then unexpectedly for the new students, she smiled. Knowingly.
“I see.” She said, pushing herself off the desk easily, picking up a marker as she turned toward the board. The cap clicked faintly as she pulled it off.
“Well…” A small pause as she wrote the date at the top corner, neat and precise. “I suppose you all will have the chance to form your own opinions soon enough.” She said mockingly glancing over her shoulders.
The room stayed quiet for a second longer than necessary, the weight of her words settling in. She let it linger.
She clapped her hands once, lightly but sharp.
“Alright folks. That’s enough mythology for one morning.” A few caught out of ward students blinked.
She turned fully toward them now, with a straight posture. “Let’s reset.”
She picked up the marker again, writing her name clearly beneath the title already on the board.
“I am professor Cassandra Mckay.” She said, tapping the board with the marker once. “And before any of you ask, yes, you can call me Professor Mckay. And no, you should not call me Cassandra.”
A couple of quiet chuckles moved through the room.
“I like organization.” She continued, pacing slowly across the front of the classroom. “Not because I enjoy being difficult, but because medicine doesn’t tolerate improvisation when it matters.”
Her gaze moved from one student to another trying to memorize the faces.
“In this class, you will understand why things happen. Not just memorize them.” She paused near the first row.
“If you can’t explain a mechanism, you don’t know it. And if you don’t know it…” A slight tilt of her head. “It will show.”
Ogilvie stopped fidgeting altogether, hands going still on his lap.
“I don’t curve grades.” Cassie added calmly. “I don’t give extra credit. That's on you.”
Trinity leaned back slightly, eyebrows raising.
“But—” Cassie’s tone laid back, like if she were saying a fun fact. “I do teach.”
She set the marker down, dusting her hands lightly.
“Now, let’s start with—”
Knock.
The sound cut cleanly through the room.
Cassie stopped mid–motion.
The class however, reacted immediately.
Trinity stiffened; Emma’s eyes flicked toward the door; And Whitaker mouthed a silent no way.
Cassie glanced at the door, then back at her students. “...Well.” She murmured, almost to herself.
Another knock. Same rhythm.
Cassie exhaled softly through her nose, then straightened. “Come in.”
The handle turned.
Emma Nolan had always been good at noticing things.
Not in an obvious way or the kind that made people uncomfortable.
But in the quiet, instinctive way that picked up patterns and details.
From the moment professor Mckay walked in, Emma had been watching.
The way she carried herself like the room already belonged to her; The calm in her voice wasn't performative, it was the kind that didn’t need to demand attention because it already had.
Cassie Mckay was impossible not to be noticed.
She was wearing a fitted black blouse, sleeves rolled enough to show her wrists.
Tucked neatly into high waisted trousers, tailored in a way that made everything about her look sharp without trying too hard.
The fabric wasn’t stiff like most professors preferred, it moved when she did.
Her hair, red cinnamon, wasn’t overly styled either. It fell naturally in a ponytail, like she hadn’t spent hours on it, but still knew exactly how it would sit.
Every time she moved, it shifted just enough to catch the light.
Emma found herself watching longer than she meant to.
And then there were the rings.
She had counted at least four. Not stacked, not decorative in a careless way.
Different fingers, different styles. One silver band, plain. Another thinner, almost delicate. None of them flashy, but none of them random either.
Emma had leaned slightly toward Trinity earlier, lowering her voice. “Do you think she’s married?”
Trinity hadn’t even looked up from her phone. “She looks too gay for that.” Emma blinked. “That’s not—” But Trinity had just shrugged, like that settled it.
She wasn’t convinced enough. Because there was something about Professor Mckay that didn’t fit neatly into assumptions.
So when the knock came, sharp and calculated, her attention snapped to the door instantly.
The room immediately shifted with her.
And when the handle turned off.
The woman who walked in didn’t hesitate.
Each step she took was measured, the sharp click of her heels against the floor echoing louder than it should have, like it carried its own authority. It cut through the room silencing whatever whispers might have tried to survive.
Her silver blonde hair moved with motion.
Emma felt her spine straighten without meaning to.
No one spoke. Not even breathing loudly.
The woman didn’t look at them even once.
She walked straight to the front, to Professor Mckay. Like if the rest of the room simply didn’t exist.
Professor Mckay didn’t even step away.
The blonde stopped beside her, closer than colleagues usually stood. For a second, neither of them said anything, just stared.
Then without hesitation, the woman lifted her hand and tenderly moved a loose strand of hair away from Cassie’s face.
A quick smugness, almost imperceptible slipped into Cassie’s expression, the corner of her mouth lifted just slightly.
At the same time, a flush began to rise from the base of her neck, creeping upward slowly and undeniable until it reached the tips of her ears. Red, and almost the exact same shade as her hair.
The blonde murmured something near her ear. Too quiet to catch, and then stepped back just enough to break the intimacy that had been built.
Cassie cleared her throat, taken aback of realizing where she was, composure snapping back into place with practiced ease.
Without addressing what had just happened.
She turned toward her desk, opening one of the small cabinets beneath it and shuffled something inside. Then straightened up, holding a cup.
A very specific cup. White ceramic, slightly worn, and printed across it in bold, unmistakable letters of “Best mom ever.”
Cassie didn’t even look at the class as she handed it to the blonde. Who she deducted was Dana Evans, because it had to be her. Who took it with a quiet and unimpressed expression.
Dana rolled her eyes in annoyance.
Emma’s brain short circuited.
Oh my God.
Her phone was already in her hand under the desk, screen lighting up as she opened the group chat.
Emma: See the cup? I told you she was married, and now she has a child.
She hit send immediately.
Across the room, Trinity’s phone buzzed. Emma watched as Santos read it, then slowly lifted her gaze, locking eyes with Emma that was already expecting her eyes, one second before rolling them so hard it almost looked painful.
And then she looked away. Not even giving Emma the chance to defend herself.
Emma frowned, already typing again when another notification popped up.
Joy: She doesn’t have to be married in order to have a child.
Joy said, like it was obvious.
Emma stared at the message. Then back at the front of the room.
Professor Evans took the cup, fingers wrapping around it like it was a familiar routine. Then turned over her heels already halfway gone before anyone could process it.
But this time Cassie moved with her. She stepped in beside Dana as they walked toward the door, Cassie’s hand came to rest lightly against Dana’s lower back guiding her.
Emma’s head tilted without her meaning to.
Oh, that— That wasn’t coworker behavior.
The room stayed silent as the two of them crossed it, the sound of Dana’s heels still sharp but somehow softer now, like the moment had shifted into something more private, even with twenty people watching.
Cassie opened the door for her. Dana stepped out, not even looking back. Cassie lingered just a second longer, hesitating. And then followed the blonde, the door closed behind them with a quiet click.
There was a different kind of silence this time.
Suspense.
Emma leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed on the door like it might open again.
A few seconds had passed when the handle crooked once more.
Cassie stepped back unaccompanied this time.
She closed the door behind her, leisurely this time, and for the first time since she’d walked into the classroom.
She paused.
And took a deep breath like she was resetting something no one else was supposed to notice.
And just like that, it was gone.
She turned back to the class, with an expression composed back again, posture straight.
“Now.” She said, as if nothing had happened. “Where were we?”
Emma didn’t answer or even pretend to look at her notebook, her fingers were typing on the fluorescent screen again.
Emma: okay no, that was NOT normal
She sent.
And another message, right after.
Emma: hand on the lower back???
She glanced up briefly, watching Professor Mckay pick up the marker again, writing on the board like the last five minutes hadn’t completely derailed reality.
She looked back down.
Emma: And she just WALKED HER OUT like that??
Emma barely heard a word of the lecture after that.
By the time class ended, the tension hadn’t really left. But conversations sparked all at once, low and overlapping, like everyone had been holding their breath for the past hour.
Emma was already on her feet.
“So…” She started, turning to Joy. “We’re not just ignoring that, right?”
On the other side Trinity slung her bag over her shoulder. “I am.” She said flatly. “For my own peace.”
“You’re lying.” Whitaker cut in, falling into step beside them. “You saw it.”
“I saw something.” Trinity replied. “I’m choosing not to psychoanalyze it before my next class.” She yawned.
Joy adjusted the strap of her bag, peaceful but tough. “We don’t actually know anything.”
Emma gave her a plea look. “Joy.”
“I’m serious.” Joy insisted. “You’re all jumping to conclusions when all you know is their name.”
“Conclusions?” Whitaker repeated. “There was hand placement, Joy. Strategic hand placement.” Emma nodded immediately. “Thank you.”
They moved out into the hallway with the rest of the students getting out of their classes, the noise of the building swallowing them up. Everything blended into the usual chaos between classes.
But their group stayed locked in their own bubble.
“So what, you think they’re— what?” Trinity asked. “Dating?” Emma didn’t hesitate a second to answer. “Yes.”
“At work?” Trinity added, half–incredulous.
“Worse.” Whitaker said. “Secretly at work.”
Joy sighed. “Or they’re just close.”
The five of them turned the corner toward the cafeteria, the smell of food and the louder buzz of conversation hitting them instantly. It was more crowded there.
“There.” Ogilvie finger pointed, heading toward one of the tables. Where Javadi was, phone in hand, clearly mid–scrolling.
Emma didn’t even sit before speaking. “Did you read the chat?”
Javadi looked up, eyebrows raised. “I read something.” She said, locking their phone and setting it down.
“What were y’all talking about??”
Whitaker dropped into the seat across from them like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. “Oh, you missed everything.” He said, leaning forward.
Trinity groaned softly, already sitting down. “Here we go.” “No, listen…” Whitaker insisted, pointing between Emma and himself like they were witnesses in a trial.
“Professor Mckay? Not normal.” Emma nodded immediately. “Definitely not normal.”
Whitaker continued, counting on his fingers. “First there's this tension radiating there. You walk in, you feel it.” “Second.” Emma added after Whitaker. “The rings.”
Javadi blinked confused. “The what?” “The rings.” Emma repeated. “Multiple and suspicious.”
Joy pinched the bridge of her nose.
Trinity, already annoyed, got up from her seat trying to leave. “She’s just trying to say that Professor Mckay is gay as fuck.”
Everybody got shut.
Trinity saw Javadi’s expression change, her eyes flicking past Emma, over her shoulder.
Her voice subdued. “...Why are you all making that face?”
Whitaker followed Javadi’s gaze. And immediately froze.
She didn’t turn around. Just breathe out a slow and long sigh, already knowing.
Emma obviously turned.
She saw... right behind them.
Professor Mckay... And Professor Evans close again. Not touching this time, but close enough that it didn’t matter.
Cassie looked completely composed, while Dana stood just slightly behind her, arms loosely crossed, gaze cold and unreadable, but very aware of the entire situation.
Emma’s brain short circuited for the second time that day.
Oh my God—
Cassie’s eyes flicked across the table, taking in every single one of them and the very obvious fact that they had just been talking.
About her.
She crooked a smile again, but more relaxed. “I bet that’s all you got about my class, mhm.”
No one answered 'cause no one could.
Cassie didn’t seem to mind.
If anything, the silence only made that small, knowing smile linger a second longer before she shifted her attention away from them entirely.
The plate in her hand tilted slightly, the slice of flan steady despite the movement when she turned. Dana followed without a word, falling a step beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world. And just like that, they walked off to the coffee section.
Every single one of them watched unashamedly.
They just followed the two professors with their eyes as Cassie and Dana reached the counter. Cassie said something too far to be heard and Dana tilted her head just slightly in response. There was a pause that looked intimate. Like if they were watching something forbidden.
Emma narrowed her eyes.
They’ve done this before, she thought.
Trinity sighed tired already. She dropped back into her chair, dragging a hand down her face. “Oh my God.” She grunted. “I’m exhausted.”
But no one responded immediately.
Trinity glanced briefly toward the coffee section, just a flick of her eyes before looking away again like she refused to engage any further.
“This…” She added, gesturing vaguely at all of them. “Is exactly why I didn’t want to get into this.”
“You got into it yourself.” Ogilvie spoke as if anyone had asked his opinion.
“I did not.” Trinity shot back. “I made one comment and suddenly we’re running a full investigation like we’re gonna uncover a scandal.”
Whitaker leaned back slightly. “I mean…” “No.” Trinity cut him off. “No 'I mean.' We got caught gossiping about a professor.”
Joy shifted slightly in her seat. It landed.
“But... She didn’t sound mad.” Emma said after a second.
Trinity gave her a look. “That’s not even the point.” She paused. “I don’t need a professor recognizing me as that student.” She added then.
Javadi hummed softly. “Too late for that.”
Trinity groaned.
Whitaker let out a small laugh. “Yeah, she lowkey clocked us all.”
Javadi leaned back in her chair, arms crossing slowly, gaze drifting a little back toward the coffee section. Where they still were together. “...Worth it.” She prompted.
Trinity dropped her head back against the chair. “You’re unbelievable.”
Emma didn’t even try to defend herself. Because she was still looking. And apparently so was everyone else.
What had started as a moment of curiosity turned into something else entirely.
A habit.
Over the next few days, it became unspoken. No one officially said. “Let’s keep watching them."”
But they did.
Every time they crossed paths in the hallway. Emma’s eyes would flick up first; Whitaker would subtly slow his pace; Ogilvie would pretend to check his phone while very obviously not checking his phone.
Even Javadi watched, just enough to stay informed.
They never did anything obvious. Nothing dramatic or undeniable.
But there were still small consistent things.
Like the way Dana always stood just a little too close only perceptive if you have been watching them before; Or the way Cassie never seemed surprised to see her. The conversations between them looked unfinished, as if they were always picking up from somewhere else.
It was impossible to prove a point. But impossible to ignore.
And every single time Emma thought this is it, this is where we catch something...
They didn’t.
Days passed like that.
“Today’s the day.” Ogilvie whispered dramatically as they walked into the classroom.
Trinity didn’t even give him a look. “If you say that one more time, I’m leaving.”
Everybody felt a different kind of rigidity.
They filed into their seats, the room was quieter than usual. Less chaotic, everyone was perceptive and already knew what to expect.
Or at least, what they’d heard.
Emma glanced around. “Where’s Dennis?” She asked under her breath.
Joy looked at the empty seat. “He’s not here.”
“Fuck ass huckleberry.” Trinity slammed, dropping into her seat.
Emma huffed a quiet laugh.
But it didn’t last long.
The room had instantly gone silent.
The sound of the door opening quieted everybody. No one needed to look to know who was going to cross it.
Dana Evans didn’t rush.
She walked in the same way she had, days before. Measured, with precision; Each step controlled. The sound of her heels echoed through the room, they gave a final period to a non-said sentence.
Emma sat up straighter without thinking.
Dana placed her things on the desk at the front, moving efficiently without making any unnecessary gesture, not wasting the minimum of energy.
She looked up, studying their faces.
And just by that, the entire room felt like it was under inspection.
Her gaze moved across the students slowly evaluating.
Emma swallowed. Because now she gets it. This wasn’t an exaggerating rumor.
This was—
“Phones away.” Dana’s voice cut through the silence.
“Not under your desk. Not in your hands. I want them away.”
The chairs shifted immediately. Ogilvie shoved his phone into his pocket like it had personally offended her; Emma slid hers into her bag without hesitation.
Dana watched, waiting.
And only when the last movement stopped she nodded as if to herself. “Good.”
She paused before starting.
Then she picked up a marker. “Biochemistry.” She said, writing it across the board in clean, sharp strokes. “It is not a memorization course.”
Emma blinked. It sounds familiar.
“You will not pass this class by copying slides.” Dana continued, turning back toward them. “You will not pass by guessing. And you will not pass by doing the bare minimum.”
Ogilvie leaned slightly toward Emma.
“Oh, she’s worse…” He whispered.
Emma didn’t respond.
Because Dana’s eyes flicked in their direction. She held Ogilvie gaze for exactly one second longer than necessary. And he immediately made a tiny line as a mouth. Shouting himself up.
Then looked away.
“Attendance matters.” She continued. “Participation matters; Understanding matters.”
“If you are here, I expect you to work.”
Emma felt something shift in her chest. It wasn't exactly fear.
But respect.
Dana set the marker down.
“Now” She said, voice just as steady as before. “Let’s begin, everybody up.”
Emma glanced sideways at Joy; Then at Trinity; And at the front again.
Yeah.
They weren’t surviving this class by gossiping about them alone.