I am a horrible person. And also a tease. So this is a teaser one shot to set the scene for a much longer real world AU I'm working on, which will be a lot less dark and significantly fluffier than anything else I've written in this particular pairing. Watch this space for the longer story to follow if you enjoy this one shot. Also definitely still taking challenge/prompt/request fics, send them!
Content Warning: alcohol, anaphylaxis, bad language, sexism, mildly homophobic language and attitudes.
"How about the party next door? They're all in black tie, right? We could totally pass as graduates!"
Marceline cast a dubious glance at the small knot of students smoking outside the hotel lobby. Yeah they were dressed in black tie, all tuxedos and prom dresses. She'd have no problem passing as a swanky graduate at least; her floor length red ball gown wouldn't have looked out of place on a millionaire's yacht. Marcy believed in dressing for the job she wanted instead of the job she had and that meant performing like every grotty fifty-seat theatre was the Sydney Opera House. And there were a lot of people milling around the place, chances were good that whatever feeble security they had wouldn't notice a couple of gate crashers sneaking in with the press of new graduates. But she wavered, unsure if it was a good idea. If they got caught she wasn't sure if it might count as trespassing or something and she really didn't want to start her professional career with a criminal record. But Jake had already commandeered her arm and was tugging her towards the hotel entrance, following a knot of loud drunk guys in tuxedoes. He nodded importantly to the large burly bouncers as they passed through the door and they stepped into the middle of what appeared to be a very fancy ball. There was large professionally printed banner strung across the other side of the hall reading 'Congratulations MBBS Graduates!''
"Jake, what the hell is an MBBS?" Marceline hissed in his ear as they wandered towards the bar.
"Dunno. Some kinda university thing." he shrugged.
"Right? But what kinda university thing? It looks like a kind of degree but I've no idea what sort. You're an unqualified dirty dropout-"
"-fully qualified chef!"
"-whatever, and I'm an MMus. So what the hell is a MBBS? I feel like I recognise it but I can't place it. Like, we kinda need to know if we're gonna pretend to be graduating in it?"
"Master of Brilliant Bull Shit?" Jake suggested with a grin. "Look, it doesn't matter. They've got an open bar, go grab us some drinks and I'll raid the buffet."
"Fine." Marcy replied with an eye roll. "No garlic, remember? Unless you wanna wear that sexy tux to my funeral. I've got my EpiPen but I'd rather not have to use it."
"Duh, I know. No garlic for babygoth and no chocolate for dogboy. President and Treasurer of the I Fucking Hate Allergies Club right here. Do I look stupid?" Jake replied over his shoulder as he stumbled off in the direction of the food.
"Kinda, sometimes. Yeah." Marcy muttered at his retreating back.
She shrugged to herself; Jake knew how to handle her allergy to garlic every bit as well as she knew how to handle his allergy to cocoa. But he was prone to being forgetful and he'd already had more to drink than was advisable. They'd run out of booze at the post-concert party and been sent in search of more because Jake had drank the last of it. He was only even there because she'd needed a plus one and he hadn't had anything better to do that night. Looked like the rest of the orchestra were out of luck; no way they were leaving the swanky graduation party now that they'd managed to sneak in.
Marceline pushed her way to the crowded bar and was looking around for the serving staff when it happened. A loud and very drunken voice right next to her made her jump; for a second she thought they were addressing her.
"Give it up, sweet cheeks! You didn't even manage to bring some hairy queer freak along to watch you be an embarrassment to the profession. You know you don't wanna go home alone tonight, right? Me an' Baxter, we'll keep you real warm. Ten minutes with us and you won't be a man-hating dyke anymore, babe. That's a guarantee."
Marcy was about to turn around and tell the drunk guys to fuck right off when a dangerously cold voice replied instead.
"Call me sweet cheeks again and I will twist your tiny shrivelled nuts off and wear them as earrings. That's a guarantee. What's your problem anyway? Does it bother you that I could get more girls in one night than you two morons have even seen in your entire lives? GET YOUR GODDAMN HANDS OFF ME, BRACO!"
"JESUS CHRIST, SUGAR! YOU'RE GONNA BREAK MY FUCKING WRIST!"
It looked like the slender redhead girl in the pastel pink cocktail dress was bending an obviously very drunk guy's wrist into a direction human wrists weren't designed to bend in. He was yelping in pain and the security staff by the door were glancing at each other uncomfortably, clearly unsure whether they should intervene. Marcy made one of those split-second impulsive decisions that were frequently getting her into trouble and abandoned her place at the bar. She elbowed her way across to where the tall man was begging for mercy and slid in between him and the (omfg really cute!) redhead.
"Hey babe, I thought we talked about not ripping people's hands off in public?" she drawled, sliding an arm around the surprised redhead's shoulders and hanging off her with her very best trophy-wife pout in place.
"You brought an actual lesbo date? Like, seriously?" the horse-faced guy standing behind his whimpering friend asked incredulously. The one the redhead had called Braco was holding his wrist and didn't speak apart from the odd quiet moan as he pressed on the bones gently. He seemed to be checking everything was still in place. The redhead girl just stared up at her rescuer in confusion; Marcy tipped her a wink and trailed one perfectly manicured finger down her cheek just because she totally could.
"Oh. Right, yeah. Um, sorry babe. We should go dance, or something. Well boys, my date and I are gonna go anyplace you two aren't. Feel free to keep each other warm all night instead, though."
Marceline took a moment to look over the girl she'd just rescued as they moved through the crowd together. She was slim and lithe, athletic looking with a twisting knot of light reddish-blonde hair piled on top of her head and eyes the same shade of blue as the summer sky. The girl shot Marcy a shy smile when she noticed her looking and yeah, she very suddenly decided she could definitely accept a dance with a girl like that. Marcy grabbed her unresisting hand and dragged her onto the dance floor. It wasn't until they were cheek to cheek with their arms carefully circling each other's waists and slowly revolving to some smooth love song with a crowd of other couples that the redhead spoke.
"Hey, thanks for the rescue. I could have handled them but it's always nice not to have to break someone's bones. Doctor...?"
Doctor? Shit. Medical Bachelor and Bachelor of Surgery. I do recognise it. Shit shit fuck shit. She thinks I'm a doctor.
"Doctor Haus. Pronounced like the TV doctor, only way hotter and with a sexy foreign spelling. Doctor Marceline Haus. That's me. Graduate doctor and rescuer of damsels in distress."
The redhead was staring at her like she was a bit crazy and when Marcy stopped to think about it that was a perfectly reasonable reaction.
"O-kay. Well, nice to meet you, Doctor Marceline Haus. I'm Bonnie. Doctor Bonnibel Sugar, as of about six hours ago. And I'm certainly not a damsel in distress but well done for trying. I actually teach self-defence classes when I get the odd free weekend; I could have kicked both their asses without spilling my cocktail."
"Wow, beautiful and talented and also a total badass. Must be my lucky night. But you did look a little distressed for a moment back there, just a tiny bit. And who says you were the damsel anyway? Perhaps I was rescuing that poor sweet boy trying to shove a polite compliment directly up your skirt whose hand you almost snapped off. He seemed to need all the help he could get. I'm honestly shocked that such a true gentleman wouldn't have a date of his own, unless Horse-Face is his boyfriend?" Marcy asked with her most charming smile firmly in place.
"Braco and Baxter in a gay relationship? Oh that'd explain so much. They've literally not stopped hassling me since freshers week. According to them I need to learn to take a compliment because I'm far too 'fuckable' to be queer and I must be in dire need of conversion." the redhead replied with an amused eye roll.
"Let me guess, their magical man meat is a cure-all for lesbianism?"
"Oh, so you have met them before then? Wait, have we met before? I don't think I've seen you in any of my electives. Which hospital did you do your juniors in?"
Marceline went from her relaxed charm offensive to nervous and panicky again instantaneously; she thought she'd managed to steer the conversation well away from her pretend doctor status. Shit shit shit you gotta lie, think of a lie! Come on, think! You're usually so good at lying! Just ignore the fact that she's freaking gorgeous, lie your way out of it!
"Abroad. I did my juniors abroad, overseas. With the Army. Um, I was in an Army hospital. In Baghdad. Yeah, I was out saving soldiers' lives. So you won't have seen me. Yeah?"
Marceline's brain did the mental equivalent of a sarcastic slow clap. The look the redhead was giving her was colder than chipped ice and really that was the least she deserved for such an obvious and ridiculous lie.
"Baghdad. You went to fucking Baghdad. How?" she all but hissed.
"Um, I had good grades?" Marcy replied hopefully, adding her most winsome smile to try and sweeten the stupid lie. Any second now the other girl was going to out her as not a doctor and she was going to get arrested for trespassing. And then her father was going to have to bail her out of jail and he was going to give her his most disappointed look and shake his head that way he did and-
"Just, typical! I applied to study abroad every year since enrolment and what do I get? A minor surgical elective in Munich for all of a month! And they let you spend an entire year in Baghdad? That's so much bullshit!"
"Um. If it's any consolation war is hell?" Marcy tried.
"If I hadn't already graduated I'd be putting in an official complaint, Haus! They can't get away with such blatant favouritism!"
"No, definitely not, favouritism is bad." Marceline nodded her bewildered agreement but the angry redhead continued to mutter under her breath and scowl right through what could have otherwise been a very pleasant slow dance.
"Marce! Where the hell did you go? Where are our drinks? Who's this? Hi. I'm Jake. I only brought enough nibbles for two, sorry."
Jake had shouldered his way onto the dance floor with two paper plates full of a selection of buffet foods. The redhead who'd briefly introduced herself as Dr Absolutely Gorgeous Something-Or-Other (Marceline had already forgotten) dropped her hands from Marcy's waist and nodded briefly to the dark haired girl.
"Well, I'll leave you to dance with your actual date. Thanks again for the well timed save, Haus."
And she turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Marcy to gape after her.
"Dude." she breathed to Jake. "She's so hot. And she danced with me!"
"Yeah? And I noticed she angrily stalked away from you without giving you her number and called you 'Haus' for reasons I'm not even gonna ask about, mostly because I'm a little scared what the answer will be. So I guess you were too distracted by chicks to get us drinks?" the big guy replied with a long suffering sigh.
"Definitely. Sorry. She was getting hassled at the bar so I stepped in and pretended to be her mega hot lesbian date." Marcy replied, still scanning the crowd to see if she could spot the redhead.
Jake just sighed and shoved the plates of food at her.
"Wait here and watch the nibbles, I'll go get us drinks." he muttered with a shake of his head. "And try not to get distracted by breasts again. I know, they're warm and delicious and amazingly breast shaped and yeah I noticed her dress was just low cut enough without being trashy. But dammit Marcy, we need that free champagne!"
He shoved off towards the bar again and Marcy turned back to trying to spot Doctor Gorgeous in the shifting crowd. There! She was standing at the other end of the room, having what looked like a quiet argument with a girl with very long dark hair. Did she just argue with people for fun? Doctor Gorgeous snarled something and threw her hands in the air and then stalked off in the direction of the buffet table. The girl watched her go with a satisfied smirk on her face; looked like she'd won the argument. Marceline distractedly helped herself to a handful of the buffet food Jake had gotten for them, not ever bothering to look at what she was putting in her mouth much less taste it. Doctor Gorgeous was heading back her way but she stopped at the edge of the dance floor and took a couple of steadying breaths, obviously trying to regain her composure. Marcy just stood there in the middle of the dancing couples staring at her dreamily. Distantly she was aware that there was this fizzy warmth spreading through her chest, like a sort of swirling feeling that made her hyper aware of her skin and heart rate which seemed to be unexpectedly picking up. A half minute later Jake was back with two glasses of champagne and he was staring at her with a sort of weird expression on his face. Probably trying to be funny or something Marcy figured, but she was too busy being full of warmth and weird skipping feelings around her heart about that amazing girl-
"What the fuck are you doing? Those are garlic mushrooms!" Jake gasped in absolute horror. "Marcy, what the hell? Shit, shit, where's your EpiPen?"
"Huh?" she asked distractedly, looking around when her brain finally caught up with her ears. It seemed like her thoughts were moving extra slow and her heart felt weird, too full and kinda like it had developed a bad stutter. Wow, love at first sight was a real thing then? But then she looked down at the plates of food; Jake had obviously found a pen somewhere and scrawled 'Jake poison' on the one containing little squares of chocolate cake and 'Marcy poison' on the one with what she belatedly realised were indeed garlic mushrooms. And shit, yeah, now she thought about it that tight feeling in her chest might not be love at first sight and might be something to do with her lethal allergic reaction to garlic-
Jake was yelling for help as she dropped to her knees, hands flying to her dramatically swelling throat as she gasped for air. Marcy tried to indicate that her EpiPen was in her purse but her vision was starting to swim and she wasn't managing to get her words out properly around the tightness closing in her throat. The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was someone shouting her name.
"What the hell are you doing, man? Where's her EpiPen?" one of the graduates yelled at Jake. He was fumbling with Marcy's purse and the adrenaline injection fell out and rolled away into the staring crowd.
"Someone call an ambulance!" a voice yelled from over by the bar.
"We're fucking doctors, man!" someone else shouted in reply.
"Give her the fucking shot already!" a third voice joined in. Jake was on hands and knees now, scrabbling around on the floor and sobbing as he tried to pick up the injection with clumsy hands that shook badly. Someone else grabbed it before he could manage and he looked up; it was the cute girl Marcy had been dancing with a few minutes before.
"Out of the way." the redhead told him coldly. She strode over to where Marcy was lying in a wide circle of shocked graduates, pulled her dress right up to the waist (Marceline was gonna kill him for making her unconsciously flash a room full of strangers, oh man she was wearing her lucky Batman panties, he was dead), and deftly stabbed Marcy in the top of her thigh with the EpiPen.
"Right, has anyone called an ambulance?" Doctor Awesome asked the onlookers. A couple of people muttered yes and she nodded, then bent back over Marcy as the adrenaline began to work.
"Haus? Haus. Can you hear me? It's Dr Sugar, you went into anaphylaxis and I administered your adrenaline shot. Hey, come on, wake up. The ambulance is on the way. Haus. Wake up!"
Marceline's face was swollen up like a balloon animal but it was beginning to go back down and her breathing was less desperate and wheezy than it had been before the adrenaline. Her eyes were beginning to flicker back open just a little as the paramedics shoved their way through the startled crowd. Jake was still sitting on the floor drunkenly crying and he barely even noticed Doctor Awesome And Gorgeous was following the stretcher they were wheeling his friend out on.
"Hey, come on bro. You look like you could use a drink, you've obviously had a shock. Sugar'll look after that chick, don't worry. She's a frigid stuck up cow but there's nobody better in an emergency." the horse-faced boy added.
It was one of the guys from the bar earlier, hauling Jake to his feet and pressing a foul smelling shot of something into his hands. Jake downed it immediately and yeah, he did feel just a little better.
...
"Do you know her name?"
"Haus. I don't remember her first name, we just met. Marianne or something, I think."
"Any idea on how to contact a next of kin?"
"No. Wait, maybe. She's military, I'm pretty certain. So maybe try Armed Forces records?"
"Date of birth? Approximate age?"
"Assuming she's an MBBS grad and wasn't there as someone's date? Approximately twenty two or twenty three, same as me."
"Any previous episodes like this? Any idea what brought on the anaphylaxis?"
"I don't know. She's not wearing a medi-alert bracelet but I'm pretty sure the adrenaline shot was hers so probably previous history. Peanuts or something, she was eating when it happened. Must have been something in the food. Egg or dairy, I couldn't do more than guess."
"Right, well we can take it from here, I'm sure you don't want to miss the rest of your ball."
"No it's ok. I'll come too if you don't mind? I want to talk to her some more when she comes around."
Marcy could hear voices. She was distantly aware that she was strapped down on some kind of stretcher and lifted into the back of a vehicle. Ambulance, her drowsy brain supplied. Garlic mushrooms. Oh shit, she'd taken her allergy bracelet off for the concert; it was too distracting having it jangling around on her arm when she was trying to play.
She tried opening her eyes a couple of minutes later and was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was. They were still puffy but she could see out of them. Jake must have used her EpiPen. She turned her head, certain he was the one she could hear strapping themselves into the seat next to her as the ambulance pulled away. But when she squinted at the figure it wasn't Jake, it was the gorgeous doctor girl she'd danced with.
"..y'r here?" Marcy slurred around her still swollen tongue.
"Good morning to you too. Your boyfriend was too wasted and I figured he'd do more harm than good if he came along. Last I saw Baxter was pouring more tequila down his neck; excellent taste in men you have there."
"Roomies."
"What?"
"Jake. Me 'n him are roomies. Not m'boyfriend."
"You brought your roommate as your graduation date?"
Well she was already in the back of an ambulance looking like someone had tried to use a bicycle pump to inflate her face. How much worse could it get? Probably time to just come clean, Marcy figured.
"Nah, we gate crashed. M'not a doctor."
"I knew it! Why would you be at a civilian graduation if you were Armed Forces? Why would they let anyone with such a severe allergy join the military, even in a non-combat role?"
Marceline just shrugged, she hadn't thought it through. That wasn't exactly unusual, though.
"Wait, why are you dressed black tie then if you weren't supposed to be at the grad ball?" the redhead asked with a frown.
"Orchestra next door. Holst's Planets Suite, I'm cello. Double bass on Jupiter, too."
The redhead looked like someone had just shoved something that stank under her nose.
"You're a musician?"
"Mhm. Classical. 'N I sing."
"Typical. Just, typical. Is there anything about you that isn't a stupid lie?"
"My name really is Marceline." she tried hopefully.
"Marceline Haus?"
"No, Abadeer. Sorry."
The other girl didn't reply, just scowled again and stared away towards the darkened windows of the ambulance. Along with all the tight feelings still banding around her chest from the allergic reaction Marcy felt an intense stab of guilt. She hadn't meant to lie to anyone and she'd pretty clearly fucked up the other girl's graduation.
"Hey, I'm sorry." Marcy told her quietly. "It was Jake's idea, we were just gonna grab a couple of drinks. And then you were getting hassled and I decided to try to be a hero. Stupid of me. Just... I don't like homophobic cockholes and I wanted an excuse to dance with you."
The redhead looked like she was going to reply but the ambulance swayed to a stop and a second later the doors opened and the paramedics were wheeling Marceline out of the vehicle.
"Hey, that girl. What was her name? Did anyone get her name?" Marcy asked them as she was taken inside the accident and emergency department. But she was still quite drowsy and confused from the anaphylaxis and there was still poison garlic in her system and the adrenaline was wearing off. Despite the heavy ache of guilt she closed her eyes just for a second and woke up hours later on the ward.
Next morning as the doctor was frowning over her notes and telling her she could go home and not to be so stupid as to eat garlic or take her allergy alert bracelet off for anything there was a knock at the main door of her ward.
"Got a bunch of flowers here for a Marceline Aberdeen?" the bored looking delivery boy drawled around his gum.
"Must be for me. It's Abadeer, by the way." she corrected him. He shrugged.
"Says Aberdeen here. Sign the delivery record please, miss."
She did, and was handed a rather impressively massive bouquet of dark red roses with a small card nestled in the middle. She picked it up and flicked it open with a small frown, wondering how Jake had managed to pull off flowers when he was probably still lying half-drunk somewhere. But the handwriting inside the card was neat and loopy, not her roommate's untidy mess.
Marceline,
I let your conductor know you were admitted last night and wouldn't be able to make tonight's performance. He said to tell you to get well soon and they're holding your cello for you behind the stage. It's my professional opinion that you're not going to be well enough to play music tonight but I would be failing in my duty as a doctor if I didn't ensure you ate a nutritious dinner to help regain your strength. Meet me outside the hotel from last night at seven; you're paying. If you stand me up I'll have no option but to call Braco and admit I completely failed to arrange a date after all and then you'd need to come rescue me again anyway. So probably best you just come along. Like, as a date? Look, I suck at talking to attractive women. Just, let me know anyway.
Bonnie x
There was a phone number beneath the elegant signature. Marcy grinned happily to herself and grabbed her mobile from where it was stashed on the night stand next to her hospital bed, sending a quick thank you text for the roses and a confirmation that she'd be there at seven. Then she called Jake and woke him up, let him know she was still alive and had a date that night with the most amazing person she'd ever met. She had a good feeling, like it could be the start of something awesome.