Background: Ali is an athletic cis woman (22 Y.O) is working as an EMT in the Denver area.
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"Medic Unit 29, we have a 23 year-old-female patient requesting medical assistance due to a sports injury" the radio rang out.
Dispatch gave us an address and we sped off, lights and sirens blazing. My shift partner Matt drove the vehicle at a decent pace while I hopped in the back and prepared my medical bag for our arrival on scene. It was a warm summer evening, we had a busy day responding to medic calls in the Denver metro area. I sighed. After nearly completing our 12-hour shift, I was ready to relax at home. Maybe start reading that book again... However, this injury sounded like a painful one, and I was already getting mentally ready to assess the patient.
"I'll take the lead on this one, if that's okay. You've done a lot today." I told Matt, and he murmured his agreement. As the minutes went by, my mind wandered and I peaked up at his reflection in the rearview mirror. He was a good-looking guy by most standards, but not my type. My type seemed to be a little more feminine these days... my heart skipped a beat thinking about the sapphic book I had been reading on my break. My skin suddenly felt a little warm thinking about one of the scenes between two of the female characters...
The sound of brakes squealing interrupted my thoughts. We had pulled up to a small local sports complex and I hopped out of the back. Matt alerted dispatch that we had arrived on scene and we quickly went to work locating the patient.
"There she is!" Matt yelled from a few feet away while pointing to the corner of a turf soccer field. A small group of young adults were crowded around a figure lying on the ground. Matt left to retrieve the wheeled stretcher while I approached the patient. A male soccer player broke off from the group and ran up, looking worried.
"Thanks for coming so quick... we were just playing a rec soccer game. Samantha dived for the ball to block it and one of the guys on the other team was kicking it. He didn't see her in time and just kicked her in the fucking head!" he said, nearly out of breath.
I glanced over at Samantha and caught my first glimpse of her injury. It looked like a cleat had sliced a 3-inch-long cut into her forehead where she was bleeding. Despite the situation, she looked blissfully calm. In fact, her teammates were panicking while she tried to calm them down.
Quickly assessing her injury, I formed a treatment plan. Luckily, forehead lacerations were typically non-emergency injuries. There just happens to be more vasculature in the face which can cause shallow cuts to appear more serious. Cleaning the cut and transporting her to the hospital while prepping for stitches seemed the best course of action.
"Thanks guys, but can you give her some space? I'll take care of her from here." I said, kindly but firmly. Mumbling some complaints, they slowly dispersed. Samantha turned to look up at me, grinning with appreciation...
Wow.
She was stunning, her smile almost throwing me off balance. Her athletic build was impressive, showing years of training and dedication. Even from a few feet away, I could see her muscles bulging slightly out of her tight outfit. Her spandex shorts were extremely form-fitting and showed off her muscular glutes, glistening with sweat...
"Sorry about them, I love my teammates but they can be a little too protective," she said with a light chuckle. I couldn't help but smile back while quickly forcing my thoughts back to her treatment.
"They're okay. I'm Ali, an EMT ready to help you out. Looks like he cut you a little on your forehead..." I kneeled next to her on the ground. Wearing gloves, I opened the medic bag and prepared to clean and dress the wound. "Do you remember what happened?"
"Yeah, I was goalie-ing and got kicked a little during one of my blocks. I really don't feel that bad, it's just a cut." she said calmly.
"I see. Can I clean your cut?" I asked. She nodded. Suddenly I was hyper-aware of how close she was to me. Softly brushing her hair away from her forehead, I was slightly distracted by how silky smooth her blonde hair felt...
Cut it out! Why are you being so unprofessional? This girl was doing something to me that I couldn't explain.
I cleaned and dressed the cut. It wasn't too deep but looked like a good candidate for stitches. Dark crimson red was already soaking through the first dressing. "Do you feel hurt anywhere else?" She shook her head. After asking for permission first, I swept the rest of Samantha's body with my hands, looking and feeling for other injuries I may have missed from visual inspection.
I slowly ran my hands over her muscles. Sweeping her thighs, she suddenly shivered a little. I looked up at her in surprise. It wasn't cold. Her eyes gazed back showing embarrassment-or was it longing? She quickly looked away. I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking...
Just then Matt arrived with the wheeled stretcher. Quickly updating Samantha on her cut, I told her my recommendation for stitches. She agreed to be transported and we helped her up into the stretcher. Without warning, she grabbed my arm for balance.
"Oops, sorry." She quickly apologized to me. My skin flushed again for a second and I yelled at myself mentally again to stop acting this way.
I reassured her that it was okay and after a quick trip to the ambulance on the stretcher we loaded her gently into the back. I stayed in the back while Matt drove. After taking a set of vitals, we were on our way to the hospital.
I surveyed Samantha out of the corner of my vision. She had a light tan, I assumed it was from her summer days playing soccer as a goalie. Her muscular legs and mid-length dirty blonde hair made me a little weak, she was definitely my type. I normally started a little small talk at this point, but for some reason, this time around I felt awkward and sat in silence.
Samantha must have sensed this, because she started talking first. "I'm a little embarrassed, I've never had to ride in an ambulance before. It's kinda cool back here though." She looked around with interest. Then her gaze stopped on my sapphic novel that I had tried to tuck away under one of the seats. She smiled a little, "Hey, I know that book... It's a great read." She looked at me and gave me a little wink.
Woah. This was pretty clear, right? Was she actively flirting with me...? My cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. Or maybe excitement...
I froze for a second and then laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, you caught me. I like to read on my breaks..." I tried to shrug it off. What if she was just being friendly? More than anything I wanted to know what she was thinking.
Stop. Remain professional...
I took another round of vitals, trying not to look into her eyes. Her heart rate was increasingly harder to capture when my own grew so loud in my head. Was she staring at me, trying to figure me out as much as I was trying to figure out her? I stole a glance up at her face. She was looking at me intently. She smiled subtly when I met her gaze.
"Thanks for taking care of me." She whispered in a low tone. She gently touched my arm...
Was she doing this on purpose? Teasing me while I was on the job? I didn't know how to react. I didn't think these scenarios happened in real life, only in films or books. I started to sweat a little.
Luckily I didn't have to reply. We pulled into the ambulance bay and checked her into the hospital. After the quick handoff report with the ER doctors, I took one last look at Samantha. When no one else was looking, she winked at me again. My heart felt like it skipped a beat, and I winked back.
•••
Back in the ambulance, I was prepping the stretcher for the next patient. I couldn't stop thinking about the recent exchange with Samantha; how confident and bold she was. A light rustling noise caught my attention and a small piece of paper fell off the stretcher. I picked it up.
