“Dr. Qadri, may I speak with you a moment?”
The interns had fallen silent at Miranda Bailey’s approach. As recent as two days ago, she had been reinstated as Chief, and it did her ego good to know the respect had been reinstated as well. Or maybe they just hadn’t wanted her to overhear what they were talking about. Miranda was going to believe the former--for her ego’s sake.
“Of course, Chief,” Qadri said, pushing her chair back from the table and standing. She exchanged a glance with Helm, sitting to her right, then Schmitt next to her. Schmitt’s eyes darted towards Bailey and his eyebrows went up and together, grimacing.
Lord help the boy, he still needed to work on that subtlety.
Qadri followed her a few feet away, where Miranda suddenly found herself unsure how to start. Damn it, why did so many of these damn people have to be so much taller than her? She drew herself up a little.
“Dr. Qadri,” she said, putting a bounce in her voice. “I understand that you...take pictures.”
It took a second for Qadri to pull herself out of whatever fear had her standing there like a baby deer in headlights. Good fear, in Miranda’s opinion. Fear she would nurture.
“Oh!” Qadri chirped, face brightening. “Yes, Dr. Bailey, one of my hobbies is photography.”
“Excellent.” Miranda clapped her hands together, once, curled her fingers around her palms. “I want you to take some.”
Confusion again. Qadri managed to school her features quickly, though. Miranda made note of that for later, too. “Some...pictures, Dr. Bailey?”
“Yes, some pictures. Of the hospital. Of people working in the hospital. It’s for a P.R. stunt,” Miranda explained.
“Oh, well, people aren’t usually my subjects. I tend to take pictures of things, you know, that kind of stick out or are random…”
“Well, plenty of people in this hospital stick out or are random. Just look at Schmitt, over there. He does both.” Miranda glanced towards the table, and her expression absolutely did not soften. Gaze snapping back to Qadri’s, she smiled at her. The smile of a woman who was in charge and liked it. “Bring your camera tomorrow. I’ll put you on my service.”
Qadri’s mouth opened, like she was going to maybe protest, but Miranda’s look stopped her. Smug, she walked away.
Dahlia returned to the table and her friends, slumping down in her chair with a stunned expression.
“So...what did she want?” Taryn took a sip of her sparkling water as she waited for Dahlia to answer.
“She wants me to take pictures.”
Silence fell over the table again. Finally, Levi spoke.
The next morning, Dahlia knocked on the door of the Chief’s office before pushing it open. It felt weird to have her camera around her neck when she was in scrubs, heavier than usual, and her free hand kept moving up to touch it. The other hand was holding a paper tray with two cups in it.
“Morning, Chief,” she greeted, smiling her brightest smile. Dahlia had practiced it on Taryn that morning, and had a pillow thrown in her face for being “too fucking sunshine-y too damn early”, so she knew it was good. Third in her class good. If she got through today, maybe Bailey would let her scrub in on something really cool later. There was gastric bypass on the board for later, and Dahlia wouldn’t mind seeing one of those.
“Oh, good, Dr. Qadri. You’re right on time. Punctuality is a wonderful trait.” Bailey moved out from behind her desk, taking one of the coffee cups without waiting for an offer; luckily, it was the one that actually contained coffee. Moving quickly, she spoke even faster. Dahlia barely had time to take her own cup and throw the tray in recycling; she had to jog a little to catch up.
“Now, what I want is a few good shots of the head of each surgical department working with an intern. Ah--Nothing graphic.”
“Are you promoting the internship program?” Dahlia asked. Her free hand fiddled with the lense cover of her camera. She really didn’t take pictures of people very often. Not with an actual camera, anyway. Her instagram was full of ones she’d taken of her friends and family.
“The Grey-Sloan Memorial internship program does not need promoting,” Bailey sounded affronted by the very idea. “No, this is…” Bailey paused, both verbally and physically. Dahlia nearly ran into her, but managed to catch herself millimeters away. She backed away quickly as Bailey turned around. “My son, Tuck. His high school has a career pathway program, and I am putting together a presentation on becoming a surgeon.”
“Dr. Bailey, that doesn’t really sound like P.R.,” Dahlia began, correcting quickly with, “but I am still very happy to do it,” when Bailey glared.
“It is P.R., Dr. Qadri, because your pictures in my presentation are going to inspire young minds to become surgeons. That inspiration will bring them back to Grey-Sloan Memorial when the time comes, thus ensuring the future of this hospital.” The more passionate Dr. Bailey got, the closer she got. Dahlia had to resist the urge to lean back a little by the end of it. Bailey smirked, stepped back. “Also, it’s going to be a lot cooler than my husband’s presentation on firefighting. Firefighting! The man’s going out for Medic One, he has no business talking about a career he’s not staying in.”
There were some underlying things there that Dahlia wasn’t going to touch. She took a sip of her tea, nodding. Tucked away the information about Ben Warren for later gossip. “So you want me to take pictures of department heads and interns.”
“And residents, fellows, attendings,” Bailey waved her hand as if to say, and so on, turned sharply on her heel and started walking again. Dahlia jolted into motion. “I want some shots of Dr. Pierce’s mood rooms, and of course, the moon spa--ah, the hyperbolic chamber.”
“Got it,” Dahlia nodded.
“And just...get some random shots. You said you take pictures of random things that stick out. Do that. Just nothing explicit. These are for children, after all.”
“Right.” Dahlia nodded again.
“Well?” Bailey threw a look over her shoulder. “What are you waiting for? Go! Take pictures!”
“Right!” Dahlia stopped, glancing around. “I’ll go do that.”
She just had to figure out where to start.