This chapter parodies medical dramas in general, but early Grey's Anatomy (seasons 1-2) specifically, with some of the names and character descriptions. Nothing too deep, but I liked poking fun at the un-realism of the show. Therefore, do NOT expect the parody portion this chapter to be realistic.
Genre: Parody
Author: hotchityhotchhotch
"Oh my God, I might be too full for a drink," Emily groaned and held onto her stomach when Hotch parked his car at a bar around nine o'clock. He'd gone home to change after work and had come back to pick her up for dinner, and they'd both eaten more than their fill.
"Come on, just one. I have to work in the morning. I won't keep us out late. It's on me…"
"It's always on you. You'll need to sweeten the deal a little." Emily gave Hotch a playful smirk and tugged at the hair on the back of his neck.
"I'll give you a back rub."
"Right now?" Emily asked with a cocked eyebrow.
"Later."
"It'd better be a good one."
Hotch cracked a grin. "You seem to be feeling better," he said gently, turning in his seat and eying her with scrutiny. "Are you?"
Emily gave her eyes a miniscule roll at Hotch's mention of a few weeks ago. Every time she'd been in even the slightest bad mood since then, he'd allude to the day their near death a month ago, and their day outside not long thereafter, lighting candles for the murderer's previous victims when Emily found herself unable to enter a church to do so. But whenever she was in a good mood, he'd note that she was feeling better. Everything related back to that day.
"Not everything has to go back to that, you know," she said, finally addressing her annoyance with his persistence.
"Okay, sorry." He rolled back into his seat and stared ahead at the outer brick wall of the bar.
"Don't look so hurt. I'm fine. When I'm in a good mood, it's because I'm in a good mood. And when I'm in a bad mood, it's because you're an asshole," she said with a teasing smile. "I've moved past what happened," she fibbed, remembering the nightmare she'd had the weekend prior.
"All of it?" Hotch asked pointedly, his eyes piercing hers. Knowing exactly what he was talking about, she leaned in for a kiss, definitely not the only one they had shared over the past few weeks.
"Not all of it. Only the bad parts," Emily murmured once their mouths separated.
"What exactly are we doing?" Hotch asked before taking another taste of her lips.
Emily often thought the same thing and had been wondering if Hotch had, too. Apparently, he was just as curious as she was as to what to label their relationship. But she only had his guaranteed presence until September, and that was looming closer and closer. "Having a good time," she answered.
"Works for me."
Emily granted Hotch one more kiss and asked, "You going to buy me that drink now?"
—
"What's wrong?" Emily asked when Hotch suddenly pulled out of a kiss that was uncharacteristically steamy for a public place. They sat in a corner booth in the dimly lit bar.
He winced and clutched his stomach. "No idea."
"What is it? A cramp?" she asked.
"Yeah," he struggled to say.
"Okay, well, I have Midol with me but I don't think that'll help you…"
Hotch didn't appreciate the joking. Instead of acknowledging Emily's comment, he hunched over and groaned.
"Which side is it on?"
"Every side."
"Okay, so it's probably not your appendix. We didn't eat the same things at dinner. What did you have again?"
"A little bit of everything."
"Anything that might've given you food poisoning?"
"Probably." He exhaled deeply and leaned back into the booth.
"Jeez, you'd think you're going into labor. Big baby."
"Thanks," he said flatly.
"Think it'll run its course tonight, or do you want to go to the ER just in case?"
"How much would you make fun of me if I said I think I should go to the ER?"
A broad smile spread across Emily's face. "A ton. I was actually joking, because who goes to the ER for food poisoning? But I'd rather you suffer mentally than physically. Come on. Let's go."
—
"How long did we wait, like ten minutes, if that?" Emily marveled as she and Hotch were led by an orderly (a rather attractive one, Emily noticed) down a beautiful, gleaming hallway. "I've never been to this hospital. I'll be keeping them in mind." She'd hardly had time to help Hotch fill out his paperwork.
"Same here," he replied. He was a good patient, answering basic questions and letting a young, cute nurse take his vitals.
"We'll get you in a room right away," she said.
"Already?" Emily asked. "A room, seriously?"
"Your symptoms could be due to any number of things," the nurse said. "We'll want to run some tests just to be on the safe side."
"I think it's just food poisoning," Emily said.
"Possibly, but it could be anything."
—
"This is nuts. Since when does food poisoning require a hospital stay for overnight observation?" Emily asked Hotch once they were alone in his private hospital room, Hotch tucked neatly in bed, still in agony.
"It could be anything," Hotch derided, fiddling with the tape holding down his IV.
"You should just puke."
"I hate throwing up."
"Again, big baby. Hey, what if you're dying? You might be. You never know," she said mockingly. "Did I hear the nurse say she wouldn't be surprised if you had to get a CT scan?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"These people are crazy. We should've just taken you home and let you puke."
"Well, I'm here now…"
"Cute butt, by the way."
"Thanks a lot. You don't have to stay, you know. I'll be fine."
"No way I'm missing out on this. Everyone here is so gorgeous. Oh dear, here comes the brigade. Maybe you are dying," Emily whispered when four frightened looking doctors, most likely interns, were herded into the room by another more confident doctor.
Emily tried to glue her mouth shut while a fast-talking female Asian intern started rattling off Hotch's information. "Aaron Hotchner, age twenty-seven, admitted this evening with complaints of abdominal cramping and nausea. His blood work hasn't come back from the lab yet."
"Uh, we think it's just food poisoning." Emily couldn't help but cut in, but the more experienced doctor, at least a resident, Emily guessed, kept going as if she wasn't even there.
"Thank you, Dr. Ying. And what would you recommend if the blood work checks out? Dr. O'Reilly?"
"Umm, an X-ray, sir."
"Dr. Black?"
"A CT scan would give better definition."
"Right. Any swelling?"
"No, sir," said a female blonde who looked more like a lingerie model than a doctor.
"That's all," the leader said to his minions. They took off obediently and the doctor stepped forward. Emily couldn't help but keep a sly smile from playing on her lips.
"Hello, there, I'm Dr. Steemie. No comments on the last name, please. First name's Mick, that'll do just fine."
"Mick…Steemie?" Emily asked, her eyebrows slowly raising practically into her hairline. "As in…Mick Steemie?"
Dr. Steemie, a devilishly handsome man who appeared to be in his mid-forties and had the salt and pepper hair to match, grinned and gave Emily a look that made Hotch feel as if he, the patient, were completely invisible. "McSteamy, yes. I must say, I've never heard that one before," the doctor said, his voice oozing sarcasm. But he appeared far more amused than annoyed. Hotch got the feeling that this man, who was old enough to be Emily's father, had done a bit of cradle robbing in his time.
"I'm Emily," she said, half-standing to shake hands.
"You are, uh…" Dr. Steemie trailed off and flipped through Hotch's charts. "…Mr. Hotchner's…"
"Friend," Emily said hastily. "Just a friend."
Hotch almost let his mouth hang open in awe.
"Well, just a friend, it was nice to meet you. Mr. Hotchner, you're in good hands. One of our interns will get back to you with your results soon."
"Thanks for that," Hotch said, almost under his breath, when he and Emily were alone again.
"I'm so sorry. I couldn't help myself. He looks like one of my professors."
"I thought you were joking about sleeping with your professors."
"I was. Relax, would you?"
"I'm trying to, but you're busy flirting up a storm with my doctor. You had your tongue down my throat an hour ago and now I'm chop liver?"
"You could be dying," Emily said in jest, "and that's what you're worried about?"
"What if I said yes?"
Emily licked her lips and giggled. "We're just having a good time, remember?"
Hotch's heart dropped a little. "Yeah. I know." Emily was leaning in for an apologetic kiss, which he would have loved to accept, but he turned his cheek to her. "Sorry, rancid breath. You really don't want to."
"Don't say I didn't try. Hey, you know what, I'd better give my parents a call and let them know I'll be staying out. They probably haven't even noticed I'm not back, but just in case."
"You going to tell them you're with me?" Hotch asked, somewhat hopeful but trying not to appear to be.
"Absolutely not. I think they're on the fence about how much time we've been spending together lately. Better not push it."
"Good idea. Go call them."
"I'll probably go see if they have some sandwiches or something, too. I don't think they'll be bringing you any hospital food for me to mooch."
"Oh, now you're hungry again. Now that I can't eat. I see how it is."
"Sorry. I won't be long."
Emily wandered the halls in search of a sign that pointed to the cafeteria, or at least the gift shop so she could buy a candy bar and a drink. In her exploring, she saw a giggling couple duck into a room and heard the door lock behind them. "Seriously?" she muttered. She found that she needed to go down two floors to get to the cafeteria and found an elevator first. The door opened to the sight of a doctor and a nurse clearly under the impression that they had more time between floors, as the male doctor had pressed the female nurse into a corner and had a hand up the back of her shirt while they practically sucked each other's faces off. Emily stared for only a second, amused, and decided to try to find the stairs instead. She passed by a similarly sensual scenario halfway down the first stairwell she found. At this point, it was becoming less funny and more disgusting. She wondered if all of this was very sanitary.
She finally found the cafeteria, discovered it was closed, then found the gift shop and bought a candy bar and a bottle of juice, and looked for a payphone. Not surprisingly, she got the answering machine and left a message that she was out with some girlfriends and might not be back for quite a while.
"This place is worse than a high school full of horny teenagers," Emily remarked when she got back to Hotch's room.
"That was only a few years ago for you, wasn't it?" Hotch pointed out. He eyed Emily's candy bar in mild disgust.
"I like to think that my four years since high school have been more like eight or ten."
"Oh. Okay, then."
"But seriously, there was a doctor and a nurse making out in an elevator, and then two doctors in the stairwell."
"I got hit on by my nurse."
"You? Aww," Emily said, laughing.
"You say that like you're surprised."
"Don't take it personally. You're pale and sweaty and your breath smells like rotten eggs and you're in a hospital gown."
"You'd still hit on me," he said cockily.
Emily scrunched her nose and shook her head. "Mmm…no. I don't think so."
"Kick me while I'm down, why don't you? By the way, they're coming to get me for a CT scan any minute now."
"You know, I thought that maybe they were joking. Do you think there might be something more serious going on?"
"I doubt it. Just overzealous doctors, I guess. I wouldn't worry about it."
"Do me a favor."
"Anything I can do from a hospital bed."
Emily grinned evilly. "Don't say that. You don't need to get up for those kinds of favors."
A pink crept into Hotch's white cheeks. "Cute. What's the favor?"
"Just puke, please. Get it all out of your system so we can go."
"We can go anytime."
"Then let's go!"
"I don't know. What if it is something serious? My insurance covers all of this. Couldn't hurt to let them take a look."
—
Emily sat impatiently in Hotch's room once he was wheeled away for his scan. Bored quickly after his departure, she decided she could at least eat her candy bar. She relished in how much she would be able to tease him for this later on. He gave a tiny wave when an intern wheeled him back in.
"They said they'll get back to me soon," Hotch reported.
"Soon? Don't technicians do all of that, then have the doctors actually look over it? I thought it was supposed to take forever."
"Actually, all those interns sat in on the scan. I think they're already looking at the results."
"This is the weirdest hospital ever. Can you please just throw up? Once you start, you can't stop, really. I spent the first month after my twenty-first birthday learning that lesson repeatedly."
"Only a month?"
"Hardy-har-har. You seriously don't want to puke? I can't stand being nauseous."
"If the scan comes back clean, we can go."
"Promise?"
"I'm glad you care so much about my health. Really, it's heartwarming."
—
Emily couldn't get Hotch discharged quickly enough once he was finally diagnosed by his team of doctors with food poisoning. She couldn't get him into his apartment fast enough, either. He threw up the second he got out of the car.
"Disgusting," Emily muttered.
"You've been asking me to puke all night!"
"Didn't say I'd like it. Come on. Let's get you upstairs." Emily had been over to Hotch's a few times, but always resisted the urge to let things get more physical than they were. As much as she often wanted to move the party to his bedroom, she was relatively certain her mother would have her head if she found out about any sexual relations between the two of them. Emily had no reason to fear that such information would actually make its way to her mother, but if she ever asked, Emily didn't want to have to lie.
While Hotch finally attempted to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet, Emily wet a washcloth for him. She tried not to breathe too deeply, as the smell was almost enough to send her reeling. After his first flush, Hotch sat back against the tub and rested his arms on his knees. "Thanks," he breathed when Emily handed him the cloth.
"Sure."
"What time is it?" Hotch asked after wiping his mouth clean with the washcloth.
Emily poked her head out of the bathroom and read Hotch's alarm clock. "One."
"That early?"
Before Emily could answer, Hotch was diving for the toilet again. Emily waited patiently and handed him another cloth to cool his forehead.
"You okay?" Hotch asked during a break.
"Hmm?" Emily arched her eyebrows and looked down at him.
"I asked if you were okay."
"I'm fine. How're you doing?"
"Been better," Hotch said with a chuckle. "You don't have to stay. I've spent my fair share of nights in the bathroom. Granted, it's been a while, and for different reasons, but I'll live. I can give you cash for a cab, or you can take my car back…wait, that would probably not look right…"
Emily shrugged. "I don't have anywhere to be in the morning. Speaking of which, think you'll make it to work in the morning?"
"No choice. One more should do it."
"One more what?" Emily didn't need an answer though, as Hotch lunged at the toilet again. "I need some air." She walked into Hotch's bedroom, where she'd only been once or twice, and only briefly. The slightly chilled, but still sticky nighttime air brushed against her face when she slid the window open. His bed caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Neatly bade, and the sheets with hospital corners, she suspected, it called to her. She could hear Hotch brushing his teeth vigorously now and wondered what was going through his mind. What did he mean by telling her she didn't have to stay? She knew she often overanalyzed things, and that he had probably meant exactly what he had said. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there had been a hint of reverse psychology going on on his part. After all, he was in his late twenties. He was single, yes, but ambitious, intelligent, sensible. He was probably past the point in his life where he was okay with an undefined physical relationship with a woman who had his interest, and she was pretty sure she fell under that category. He walked into his bedroom to find her staring out the window. Clearly under the impression that he would have a roommate that night, he approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist.
A/N: Please leave a review!
