From Morning Chaos to Stolen Moments Before the Inauguration

How and Why This Story Came to Life

Before diving into the storytelling choices behind these bonus scenes and breaking down the little details, callbacks, and emotional layers, I wanted to share a bit of context about how they came to life in the first place. Because, truthfully, I hadn’t planned on writing them just yet.

And you might be wondering: why am I already writing Season 23 bonus scenes when I haven’t even finished Season 22?

Fair question.

I still have plenty of stories to tell before closing the Season 22 chapter. Jo’s recovery, bringing the twins home, the aftermath of her trauma, Link’s own struggles… There’s so much material to explore, and the project has grown far beyond what I originally imagined. As always.

I’d hoped to finish before the new season premiered, but between work, family life, and the limited hours I get to spend writing, things have taken a little longer than planned. Not that I’m complaining. Writing about Jo and Link has become my happy place, and if I could, I’d happily spend entire days doing it.

And then Season 23 premiered.

After spending the entire summer imagining where their storylines might go, I was finally going to watch them again instead of picturing them in my head. I’d missed these characters so much, and my expectations were understandably high.

But when the episode ended, I couldn’t help feeling underwhelmed. Not necessarily by the direction of their storylines, which I’m genuinely interested in exploring, but by the moments we didn’t get. I’d been longing for more romance and physical intimacy between them, and I felt there were quite a few missed opportunities.

One moment in particular stayed with me: Link flirtatiously suggesting that he and Jo could sneak off somewhere before the inauguration, and Jo playfully brushing him off. It was such a small exchange, a fleeting glimpse of their intimacy, but I immediately felt there was something to build on.

Around the same time, my dear fellow JoLink fan (you know who you are!) had reposted their elevator scene from Season 21, Episode 18. Watching it again reminded me how much I loved their chemistry in that moment.

And I thought: Why not give them another elevator scene?

That was really the spark.

Then, while I was at the gym, the scenes started playing out in my head. One moment led to another, and before I knew it, I had the beginnings of a whole new story.

I wanted to pick up on that familiar chemistry and imagine what might happen if, this time, they actually found a little time for themselves.

And yes, part of this came from my frustration that other couples seem to get their fair share of kisses, romance, and steamy moments, while Jo and Link rarely do (at least, not enough for me!) So I thought I’d do something about it.

But beyond that, I wanted to explore something that matters to me: romance and intimacy don’t have to disappear when you become parents or when life gets complicated.

And given everything Jo has been through, I was particularly conscious of finding the right balance. Her emotional recovery is far from over, and I didn’t want to ignore that simply because I was writing a lighter, more romantic story. But I didn’t want her trauma to define every moment, either. I wanted to give her a genuinely happy morning with Link, preserving that playful, teasing side of Jo we’ve always known, without suggesting that everything was suddenly okay.

Jo and Link aren’t just doctors or parents trying to keep up with four kids. They’re two people who are still very much in love and attracted to each other, trying to find a little time for themselves. But I also wanted to show the intimacy in their everyday family life: the way they work as a team, anticipate each other’s needs, and find little moments of affection and humor amid the chaos.

Of course, imagining those moments was one thing. Finding a way to fit them into an episode that had already aired was another.

Writing Within an Episode — A Different Creative Challenge

Unlike my usual missing scenes, this one takes place within an existing episode, which brought a whole new set of constraints.

Writing between episodes gives me a certain freedom. I can explore the days or weeks the show doesn’t cover, filling in the emotional gaps between the moments we see on screen. But writing within an episode means working with a much tighter timeline. I know where the characters need to be, what they’re wearing, and what happens immediately afterwards.

In this case, I had to fit an entire morning around the inauguration: getting four kids ready, dropping Luna and Scout off at school, giving Jo and Link a little time alone, and making sure they ended up exactly where canon needed them to be.

And I actually enjoyed those constraints.

I even had to come up with a new numbering system on the fly to accommodate scenes taking place within an episode, rather than between episodes!

The Morning — Finding the Extraordinary in the Ordinary

One of the things I wanted to explore was what an ordinary school morning might actually look like in Jo and Link’s house.

We know they have four children now, including two babies. We know they’re both working doctors. And we’ve seen glimpses of their family life, but there’s so much that happens between those glimpses. And we rarely see the kids on screen… Rarely meaning never.

I wanted the morning to feel busy, slightly chaotic, and, above all, familiar. And I wanted to bring some humor into it, because with four kids, there’s bound to be plenty of it.

Scout can’t find his shoe. He doesn’t want to go to school. Luna has decided to pack half her bookshelf into her backpack. Jo is trying to keep track of everything, while Link is attempting to get everyone out of the house.

And I’ll admit, I drew quite a bit from my own experience here. Getting my own kids ready for school can sometimes be just as chaotic. The missing shoes, the last-minute negotiations, the feeling that you’re already running late before you’ve even left the house… I know those mornings very well. And when Jo says, “I’ve used all my energy for the day,” that’s actually something I say on an almost daily basis.

So if some of it feels lived-in, that’s because it is.

But I also wanted the humor to reveal something about the characters. There’s something very Link about trying to negotiate with Scout by turning the situation into a game. And I loved giving Luna her own little personality: affectionate, opinionated, and already taking her role as a big sister very seriously.

And then there are the smaller details that might go unnoticed.

When Jo mentions that Luna tends to be more difficult at school drop-off with her than with Link, that’s another observation drawn from my own experience. Children don’t always behave the same way with both parents.

But I also wanted to leave room for another interpretation. Luna has been through a lot, too. Her mom spent a long time in the hospital, and now there are two new babies at home. Maybe she’s a little more reluctant to separate from Jo. Maybe she needs a little extra reassurance that her mom will be there when she comes home.

I didn’t want to spell any of that out in the dialogue. It’s simply a possibility sitting beneath an otherwise ordinary parenting exchange. I love when a small detail can carry a little more meaning without having to explain it.

I also wanted to show Jo with the twins, and especially her relationship with Nardie. Leaving your babies in someone else’s care isn’t always easy, particularly after everything Jo has been through. But having someone you genuinely trust makes all the difference. Nardie isn’t just there to help with the logistics of raising four children. She’s someone Jo can feel comfortable leaving the babies with, knowing they’re in good hands. And I think every parent needs that kind of support.

I also paid attention to the little details that connect one scene to the next. Peyton’s upset stomach means a difficult night for everyone, which explains why Jo and Link have barely slept and leads naturally into Jo’s reply in the car when Link tells her she’s beautiful: “For someone who’s only slept three hours?” It’s a small thing, but I love creating those connections. The details shouldn’t exist in isolation. One thing leads to another, and together they make the family’s life feel more real and lived-in.

Through all of this, I wanted Jo and Link to feel like parents who know their children and have found their own rhythm. Not a perfectly organized household, but not two people barely holding it together, either. They have their routines, they have help (thank you, Nardie!), and they’ve learned to improvise.

And most importantly, they work as a team. There’s intimacy in that, too. In the little exchanges, the teasing, the way they anticipate what the other needs without having to say much. I wanted to show that their relationship exists in these everyday moments just as much as in the romantic ones.

Sometimes, those small gestures tell us more about a couple than a long declaration of love ever could.

The Drive — Missing someone who’s sitting right beside you

The car scene was probably the emotional heart of this story for me.

I saw it as a kind of transition between the chaos of the morning and the intimacy that follows. A space where Jo and Link could gradually shift from being parents juggling four children to simply being a couple.

After all the noise and movement of the morning, I wanted to slow everything down. For the first time that day, they’re alone. No children asking for something, no patients waiting, no immediate demands on their attention. Just the two of them, sitting in a car on their way to work.

And I wanted their conversation to pick up naturally where the morning left off. They talk about the school drop-off, Luna, the twins, the little things happening at home. Nothing particularly romantic, but intimate in its own way, because it’s their shared life.

The conversation also touches on Jo’s work, starting with something as simple as Link asking if she wants to grab lunch. Through their exchange about their schedules, we learn that she’s been sticking to scheduled appointments and follow-ups, keeping her distance from L&D and more demanding cases when she can.

That was a deliberate choice on my part. Earlier in the episode, Jo mentions that she’s seeing a therapist, who’s advised her to get rid of things that remind her of her birth trauma. So it made sense to me that she might also have made some adjustments at work, perhaps arranging a lighter schedule while she finds her footing again. She’s taking her recovery seriously, and she’s aware of what she’s comfortable handling right now.

But I didn’t want the dialogue to turn into exposition. It’s safe to assume that Link already knows where Jo is emotionally and understands why she’s being cautious. They live together, they’ve been through all of this together, and she doesn’t need to explain her decisions to him for the audience’s benefit. On the surface, it’s just a husband and wife comparing their schedules and trying to find time for lunch. There’s more going on underneath, but it doesn’t need to be spelled out.

Then, gradually, the mood shifts.

Link had already noticed Jo in her grey dress that morning, but in the middle of getting four kids out the door, he hadn’t really had a chance to appreciate her. Now, with just the two of them in the car, he finally has a moment to slow down and take her in. Not as the mother of his children or his partner in the morning chaos, but simply as the woman he loves.

I also slipped in a little callback to their wedding, with Link wearing a suit and mentioning that last time was at their wedding. I liked the idea of bringing a small reminder of that day into an ordinary morning, especially knowing where the story would eventually take them.

I was particularly conscious of how I wanted the attraction between them to build. I didn’t want them to suddenly become passionate the moment they found themselves alone. I wanted it to happen naturally, through a series of small gestures.

Link’s hand resting on Jo’s thigh. Her hand covering his. The way he looks at her at a red light. A compliment that makes her smile, even as she tries to brush it off. A kiss that was probably meant to be brief, until neither seems particularly eager to pull away.

Each one adds something, moving the scene from tenderness to flirtation and gradually toward desire.

And of course, I couldn’t resist interrupting that kiss with an impatient honk from the car behind them. I wanted to keep some humor in the scene, too.

I liked that neither of them is consciously planning anything. They’re simply enjoying a rare moment alone, and the attraction grows out of that familiarity. By the time they reach the hospital, what happens next doesn’t come out of nowhere. We’ve watched it build, one look, one touch, one kiss at a time.

But at the heart of the scene is an exchange I had in mind from the very beginning. In many ways, it became the emotional backbone of the entire drive:

LINK: I miss you.
JO: I’m sitting right here.
LINK: That’s not what I meant.
JO: I know. I miss you too.

There’s something I find particularly touching about the idea of missing someone who’s sitting right beside you. Not because you’ve grown apart, but because life has become so busy that uninterrupted time together feels like a luxury. There’s a difference between spending your days together and actually having time for each other.

And I didn’t want Link’s “I miss you” to be just about sex. Of course, physical intimacy is part of what they’re missing, but it’s not the whole story. It’s also about having a conversation without being interrupted, enjoying each other’s company, being affectionate, or simply having a moment when they don’t have to be parents or doctors.

I wanted to be careful not to portray their relationship as something that needed fixing. Jo and Link aren’t distant or unhappy. Their affection, attraction, and understanding are already there. They’re not trying to reconnect or rediscover something they’ve lost. They’re simply craving more time for something they already have.

That’s also why I wanted the exchange to remain understated. Neither of them needs to explain what parenthood has done to their relationship. They both know what Link means.

And four short lines are enough.

When they arrive at the hospital, I also wanted to establish that they’re early, with about twenty minutes to spare before the inauguration. That wasn’t just a practical detail to make what happens next possible. It also gave me an opportunity to shift the tone slightly.

Throughout the drive, the attraction has been building through looks and touches. But once they’re in the parking lot, Link becomes much more direct, rather openly suggesting what they could do with those twenty minutes.

I liked that contrast. There’s something intimate about two people being comfortable enough with each other to express that kind of desire so openly, and to tease each other about it.

And Jo’s reaction was just as important to me. She brushes him off with a smile, clearly amused by the suggestion. I wanted to leave room for the possibility that she’s entertaining the idea herself, even if she’s not about to admit it just yet.

It’s a playful moment, but it also plants the idea that will eventually lead them into the elevator.

The Hospital — Between their private and professional worlds

Something I also wanted to explore was how Jo and Link navigate the transition between their private and professional lives when they arrive at Grey Sloan.

In the car, they’re husband and wife, flirting, kissing, and enjoying a rare moment alone. And as they walk through the parking lot, they’re still holding hands, with Link leading the way. I’ve always found something touching about couples who still hold hands after years together. To me, it’s such a simple expression of love and intimacy, and I wanted that to be part of Jo and Link’s relationship.

But as they enter the hospital, they instinctively let go of each other’s hands. Jo greets colleagues, and they slip back into their roles as doctors. It’s a tiny action, almost unconscious, but I liked what it says about how naturally we move between different sides of ourselves throughout the day.

We’ve seen Jo and Link keep things professional at the hospital, and I wanted to build on that. But being professional doesn’t mean pretending they’re not a couple. Their relationship isn’t a secret, and they’re comfortable showing affection when it comes naturally.

That’s where the little moment with Jo’s heels comes in. She leans on Link to adjust her shoe, and he steadies her with a hand at her waist, letting it linger just a little longer than necessary.

It’s an innocent, familiar gesture between two people who are used to touching each other. But it also brings the focus back to Jo, her outfit, and the way Link has been looking at her all morning.

And that was the real challenge of writing this transition. I wanted to show them slipping back into their professional roles without losing the attraction we’d been building in the car. I knew where I wanted to take them in the elevator, and the desire couldn’t simply disappear the moment they walked into the hospital.

The Elevator — A Little Unfinished Business

As I mentioned earlier, the elevator scene was one of the first things I had in mind when I started imagining this story. In many ways, I built the entire morning around it.

And from the very beginning, I knew I wanted it to be a callback to what we now refer to as their “honeymoon” episode.

In Season 21, Episode 18, two days after getting married, Jo and Link share a passionate moment in an elevator. Link tells Jo they need a honeymoon. When the doors open, he points out that it’s her floor. And Jo replies, “I don’t care.” And they keep kissing, until Jo eventually steps out, leaving Link with a little unfinished business. Business they later take care of in the supply closet.

I absolutely love that elevator scene. The spontaneity, the passionate kissing, the way their desire takes over and suddenly nothing else seems to matter. There’s something incredibly romantic and hot to me about that sense of urgency, about wanting someone so much that you can barely wait another minute.

That’s what I wanted to revisit.

Not simply the setting or the dialogue, but that feeling.

Just like in the original scene, Jo and Link aren’t alone when they first step inside. There are other people around them, so they have to wait.

I liked the idea of using that wait to build the tension even further. Their hands brushing, their fingers finding each other, those little touches that allow them to stay connected without drawing attention to themselves. And all the while, they’re looking at the floor numbers, waiting for the doors to open and the other passengers to leave.

I wanted the desire to be building in their minds as much as through their physical gestures. They’re standing right next to each other, perfectly aware of what they’re feeling, but unable to do anything about it just yet.

So when they finally find themselves alone, the passionate kissing doesn’t come out of nowhere. It’s the release of everything that’s been building, not just during the elevator ride, but throughout the morning.

And there’s another element that makes their reaction so instinctive: they both know they have about twenty minutes before the inauguration. As Link so conveniently reminded her when they got out of the car.

They’ve stolen a few minutes from an otherwise busy day, and they know exactly how quickly those minutes will disappear. There’s no time to waste.

I also wanted to give the original scene a little twist.

Back in that Season 21 elevator scene, Link says, “We need a honeymoon.” This time, he says, “We need a whole day of this.”

Their lives are different now. They have four children, demanding jobs, and very little time to themselves. A honeymoon has become the much more modest fantasy of spending an entire uninterrupted day together.

And then, when the elevator doors open, it’s Jo who takes the initiative. She pulls Link out with her, even though they haven’t reached their floor.

That was particularly important to me.

Throughout the morning, Link has been the more vocal one about missing her, wanting time alone, and making the most of those twenty minutes before the inauguration. I didn’t want Jo to feel like she was simply responding to what her husband wanted. I wanted it to be clear that Jo wants him just as much as he wants her.

She’d already been showing him through her looks, her touches, the way she kissed him back. But here, she makes the decision. She’s the one who takes his hand and leads him out of the elevator.

The desire is mutual. And for me, that was essential to getting their dynamic right.

I wanted that to echo her “I don’t care” from the honeymoon episode, but with a different outcome. This time, she doesn’t leave him behind. She takes him with her.

It’s the same chemistry, the same spontaneity, but in a new chapter of their lives.

There’s another layer to this elevator scene, though, knowing what happens later that day.

That morning, Jo is relaxed, flirting with her husband, and making a spontaneous decision to steal a little time together. Later, another elevator becomes the setting for a medical emergency that brings her birth trauma back to the surface.

I find the contrast interesting. Two elevator rides on the same day, two very different experiences of vulnerability. One is intimate and entirely her choice. The other is unexpected and frightening.

And I think there’s something meaningful about allowing both experiences to exist in the same story.

There’s also a small detail I deliberately slipped into the conversation: Jo’s suggestion that they might find decent coffee on the VIP floor. It gives them a perfectly natural reason to head upstairs early, while also setting up her later reaction to the espresso machine in the actual episode.

It’s the kind of small continuity detail I enjoy weaving into missing scenes. Even a seemingly insignificant line can serve a purpose, helping a missing scene feel like it genuinely belongs within the episode.

The On-Call Room — Writing intimacy

This was my first time writing a scene like this, and I have to admit I was a little nervous about finding the right balance. I wanted it to feel passionate without becoming overly explicit or losing sight of the characters.

Too little detail, and the moment can feel strangely distant. Too much, and it becomes mechanical, with every movement described as though we’re following a set of instructions.

What mattered to me was capturing the urgency, the familiarity, and the affection, but above all, the sheer desire they feel for each other.

By the time Jo and Link reach the on-call room, I wanted the pace to pick up. I’d spent the entire morning building toward this moment, so there was no need for another elaborate seduction or a conversation about what they wanted. They both knew.

The door closes. The kisses continue, growing more passionate now that they’re finally alone. Link locks the door without wasting a second. Clothes start coming off, though not necessarily as smoothly as intended. They laugh, they fumble a little, and neither seems particularly interested in slowing down.

I especially liked writing the little exchange about Link’s shirt, followed by the moment when he tries to unzip Jo’s dress and she tells him, “We don’t have time.”

That was exactly how I’d pictured the scene in my head from the beginning: they’re so impatient to be together that they don’t even bother getting completely undressed. There’s something incredibly sexy about that urgency, and I had a very clear image of Link slipping off her underwear while her dress stays on. It reminded me of that iconic sex scene between Meredith and Derek in the early days of Grey’s. I wanted that same energy, with a little fumbling and humor along the way, because that’s so Jo and Link.

I also wanted Jo to be just as active in the moment as Link. She’s the one who leads him into the room, pulls him toward her, and guides him back to the bed. We’d already seen her take the initiative in the elevator, and I wanted that to continue once they were alone.

Especially given everything she’s been through, I think it’s important to allow Jo to express desire without making it a statement about reclaiming her body or overcoming her trauma. I’ll save that for another scene in a future Season 22 batch. (Already written in my head!)

I also knew exactly where I wanted to end the scene. I had this very clear image in my head of Jo sitting on Link’s lap, kissing him passionately, and that’s where I wanted to fade out.

By then, their intentions were perfectly clear, and we’d seen enough to feel the passion and intimacy between them.

And the rest is left to our imagination.

Afterwards — Intimacy doesn’t end with sex

I knew I wanted to spend a little time with Jo and Link afterwards, because for me, those moments of simply lying together, talking and joking, are just as much a part of their intimacy.

So I slowed the pace down again.

A few minutes earlier, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Now there’s no urgency. Jo rests against Link’s chest while he absentmindedly strokes her arm. They’re still touching, but in a completely different way, enjoying those few minutes of peace together.

And I had another callback to their honeymoon episode in mind. I wanted to use that callback to show how Jo and Link’s lives have changed.

In Season 21, Episode 18, after making love in the supply closet, Jo and Link lie together, fantasizing about their honeymoon. A beachfront hotel room, waves crashing on the shore, seagulls flying overhead, palm leaves swaying in the trade winds.

This time, their idea of a perfect getaway is considerably less ambitious.

A king-size bed. Room service. True-crime documentaries (we know they love them!). A whole day without interruptions.

And most importantly, a door that locks.

I loved writing that contrast. Back then, they were dreaming of a romantic escape by the ocean. Now, with four children and two demanding jobs, the prospect of spending an entire day in bed together sounds like absolute luxury.

And I couldn’t resist bringing back the supply closet, with Jo joking that the on-call room is at least more comfortable.

But I wanted to keep the conversation playful. They’re not longing for a different life. They’re just having fun imagining what they could do with a whole day to themselves.

And then Jo looks at the clock.

They’re late.

And just like that, the pace picks up again.

I wanted to bring the humor back as they rush to get dressed and make themselves presentable. The little exchange where Link asks Jo, “How do I look?” and she replies, “Great. Okay, let’s go,” without even glancing at him, was deliberate. It’s a small setup for the next comedic beat.

Bailey — Bringing them back to reality

I knew I wanted someone to catch them.

Bailey was the first person who came to mind. In fact, her line, “Four children. I understand the need to be creative,” was the very first thing I imagined for this scene, and I built the rest around it.

And really, who better than Bailey?

She has known Jo for years, watched her grow as a doctor, and she knows what Jo and Link have been through. She also has children of her own, so she understands their need to find a little time for themselves. I wanted her reaction to be more affectionate than judgmental, even if she’d never openly admit to being amused.

I had a lot of fun imagining her reaction. The humor works best if she remains completely unimpressed on the surface. She doesn’t need to make a scene or give them a long lecture. One look at Link’s badly buttoned shirt tells her everything she needs to know.

And the more Jo and Link try to explain themselves, the worse it gets.

There’s also something I found particularly funny about the reversal. At the beginning of the story, Jo and Link are struggling to get their children dressed and out of the house. Now they’re the ones scrambling to get dressed and make themselves presentable, only to end up looking like two teenagers who’ve been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

I liked bringing the morning chaos back in that way, only this time, the joke is on them.

And then comes the final twist: the inauguration has been delayed anyway.

After all that rushing, all that panic, they might actually have had more time than they thought.

And of course, Bailey has one last thing to say. The inauguration may have been postponed, but the hospital doesn’t stop running just because there’s a big ceremony upstairs. There are still patients to take care of and actual work to be done.

I liked ending on that very Bailey note: practical, slightly sarcastic, and not particularly impressed by all the fuss surrounding the inauguration. And in the process, she brings Jo and Link firmly back to their professional responsibilities.

Their stolen moment is over.

For now.

Final Thoughts — The Stories I Want to Keep Telling

After spending so much time writing Season 22 missing scenes (and I’m not done!), with all the heavy emotional material surrounding Jo’s medical crisis, her recovery, and Link’s struggles following the explosion, this bonus story felt like a breath of fresh air. So much of what I’ve written has taken place in hospital rooms, with very few opportunities to explore their romantic and physical intimacy. It was lovely to step away from all that for a moment and write something lighter, more playful, and a little steamy, too.

Perhaps that’s what I enjoyed most: the opportunity to spend a little time with Jo and Link when nothing extraordinary is happening.

Well, some might argue that what happened in the on-call room was anything but ordinary!

Writing these missing scenes has also taught me a lot about storytelling, and one thing I’m becoming increasingly conscious of is that emotional depth doesn’t always require more dialogue or bigger moments. Sometimes, it’s about trusting what remains unsaid.

I’m learning to pay more attention to the smallest details, too. How a gesture can lead to another, how a seemingly insignificant line can become important later, or how a callback can connect two moments across different episodes. I want my scenes to feel connected, rather than like a succession of isolated moments.

And above all, I want readers to be able to picture them unfolding on screen. That’s why I chose to write JoLink Stories in screenplay format in the first place. I want it to feel as close as possible to watching an episode of Grey’s.

I know Season 23 has some difficult storylines ahead for Jo and Link, and I’m genuinely looking forward to seeing how they unfold, especially what Camilla and Chris will bring to them.

But I also hope the show continues to make room for the quieter moments. The affection, the humor, the romance, and all those little things that make their relationship feel so real to me and to so many of us.

Because those are the moments I love imagining, too.

And the ones I want to keep writing.