Fic: A Day in the Life
Title: A Day in the Life
Rating: Strong T or Mild M. Whatever floats your boat.
Spoilers: General 1-5
warning. No specifics though.
Prompt: The seven
deadly sins in 24 hours
9:00 a.m. - Greed
She saw something like this once on the Discovery Channel. Only it involved female cows and a two foot tool, not her gloved hand reaching into the inner depths of the human body.
It's days like today that make her think twice about doing rounds in the clinic as opposed to sitting behind a desk, signing paperwork or doing budget reports. She stares at the ceiling, the terrible picture of a tree on the wall that she knows she couldn't have picked out, the canisters of medical supplies on the counter. Anything but the ass turned skyward in her direction. She relies solely on feeling, imagination.
The door swings open just as she pulls the object from the orifice and heaves out a heavy sigh. The metallic clink of the tray sounds as she tosses the object aside and strips her gloves from her fingers.
"Good God," the voice behind her sounds.
She doesn't turn around, instead walking to the trashcan and pressing the button with the point of her heel and disposing of the latex. Her patient remains upended, arms splayed to the side of the exam table, face pressed into the thin paper covering.
"You can pull up your pants now, Mr. Delvecchio," she sighs and heads toward the man standing in the doorway.
His blue eyes shine but his face remains void of all emotion. She knows what is coming and doesn't even offer a goodbye to her patient before she breezes through the doorway and pulls the knob toward her body.
"What the hell was that?" he asks, limping behind her at a slower pace.
She doesn't wait for him to catch up as she arrives at the nurse's station and picks up another file.
"House, we're understaffed. I don't have time pique your curiosity. There's a lot to be done."
"Oh, come on. And miss the chance to know what kind of X-files, alien probing sex scenario that guy had going on? You know, your story could be in the running for 'oddest object pulled from a body cavity' if you are willing to share your tale."
"It's not a Hans-Christian Anderson story. More like something from Nightmare on Elm Street.
She withdraws another file from the pile, briefly glancing at the name and room number before heading off in that direction. He follows behind her and continues on with the conversation she has no desire to finish.
"I always try to make the best of those scenarios. Just think of it like digging for the surprise in a Cracker Jack box," he offers.
She stops at the exam room door and bumps into him as she turns around. He's closer than she would like him to be. Too close in fact. She can see the minuscule wrinkles in his shirt, the age lines around his eyes, the stubble on his cheeks. His cologne fills her nostrils and she tries not to think about any of it because it's too damn early for any of this.
"You're disgusting," she frowns.
She turns around and enters the room, seeing the middle aged man with brown wavy hair slumped forward, his hands rubbing his temples violently. He quickly glances up and she can see the dark circles under his eyes and tears streaming down his face.
"I've been having terrible, crippling headaches. My hands feel like they are on fire and my feet feel like I am walking on coals. I haven't had a decent nights sleep in weeks because I am constantly in pain," he blurts out before she can even offer her customary greeting.
"Mr. Winterman…"
Suddenly, the man bursts out into laughter. It startles her and she knows that House has to be enjoying this. He will probably mock her later for being thrown for a loop but she feels him sidle up beside her and bend overly slightly to look at the man better.
She isn't sure why she does the same, maybe vainly hoping that whatever House is seeing or smelling or hearing, she will be able to from the position they are in. The man's laughter rings through the room and then becomes peppered with rough coughing. He kicks a medical tray out of the way and she jumps back. House does not budge.
"I want this case," he says, staring at the man as if he has him magnified under a microscope.
She hands him the file without an argument of infringing on her case. The day is still early and she isn't sure she wants House following behind her in the clinic, a place she isn't used to seeing him anyway. It's better to send him on his way and let him begin to examine the pieces of the puzzles.
"Send this guy to room 326," he orders her, as if he has the authority to tell her what to do.
It should be the other way around really, but she nods and they both walk out of the room together. He leaves her side without another word and walks down the hall. As she stands outside the room, as strong sense of possession washes over her. He is her limping genius with a cane and she is glad that he is at her hospital and no other.
She protects him and puts up with his wild tangents because, in some odd way, she feels like he belongs to her. For a brief moment, the image of a lioness enters her head and she imagines it snarling at passers-by as they casually glance at the cubs tucked under its flanks. As she makes her way back to the nurse's station, she wonders how many more she will have to bare her teeth to.