[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
The passage of air was LOUD today and Wilson moved very, very carefully in an attempt to keep the air as still as possible. He was late opening the Clinic not because he was late getting *to* the Clinic but because he was moving very slowly…in the hope of keeping the air really quiet.

Getting the doors open, he started a pot of coffee and sucked back the third 20oz bottle of water he’d been drinking since about oh…not too many hours ago. Putting a happy face on, he managed to do rounds without passing out, which was a blessing, checking in on Rory, Logan and Jack before crawling back up to the front desk.

Sitting down, very carefully –DAMN AIR WILL YOU SHUT UP!- Wilson leaned forward till he could cradle his head on his forearms. Seven…liquors….what the hell had he been thinking last night?

That it felt good to laugh a little and not hurt…andohGodI’mnottwentyanymore

Dragging his water bottle down into his lap to snuggle it close, Wilson reached for the half a piece of bagel he’d been trying to choke down for over an hour now. He was about half-way through it. By noon he might be finished with it.

If I live that long…Crowley is going to kill me.

Taking a slow breath, Wilson sat up and reached for a chart. He was being in his charting and really needed to catch up, if the little black squiggly lines would just stay still long enough for him to read them.

Doctor on Duty.
[identity profile] 2ls-in-oneill.livejournal.com
God, so bored.

Jack counted ceiling tiles and crankily wondered how much longer they thought they could keep him here. There was a *party* going on, for Godsakes', and he was missing that, too.

If he *ever* had the chance to pay back Fraiser....

...he went back to counting ceiling tiles, then heard someone in the next room.

"Hey! Come play with me!"
[identity profile] death-n-binky.livejournal.com
*DEATH is sitting at the desk, working on what appears to be somewhat ethereal paperwork while waiting for patients. He is wrapped from head to toe in robes of duct tape and has a rubber duck on his shoulder. He seems to be humming off-key, the duck chiming in periodically.

He's not the doctor, but he's the best medecine for many.*

(no subject)

Tuesday, November 1st, 2005 04:43 pm
[identity profile] gotcanewillpoke.livejournal.com
Dr House replenished the lollypop suppy in the bowl on his desk. It was a new bog, and he dug the red ones out and dropped most of them in his desk drawer. The one that locked.He stuck one in ihs mouth and slipped two in his pocket for later, right beside the bottle of Vicodin.

He limped to Exam 5 which doubled as a private room (for the likes of Parker and now Mmm Jack) and checked on the patient. Satisfied everything looked good, he headed back to the main lobby and sat down at the desk. With a little luck, it would be a quiet afternoon, and Wilson would emerge from whatever dark corner he was hidiing in...

Dr House on duty (reluctantly) because he's making an effort to work more hours
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
Wilson had had an early start, getting up first thing to check in on Jack and then heading down to the school to talk to Bristow. He'd already grabbed a couple cups of coffee in his travels but was returning now to open the Clinic for the day.

Whistling softly, the oncologist flipped on the lights and unlocked the door. He had some papers in his left hand to work on and for once those papers were not charts. Sometimes you just have to cheer the small miracles.

Setting a pot of Kona coffee to brewing, he peeked in on Jack one more time before heading back out to the front. Flopping down at the desk, Wilson kicked his feet up on the counter and pulled the papers into his lap...ahh a nice caffiene high, gottah love it.

Doctor on Duty, ask nicely you might get coffee.
[identity profile] 2ls-in-oneill.livejournal.com
"I don't wanna be here, I'm not sick, you can't make me, I just got outta here, you're Genghis Khan...." Jack's litany of complaints was cut off by a deep, whooping cough. He glared at Janet as he staggered into the clinic ahead of her. "And I really am pissed."
[identity profile] 2ls-in-oneill.livejournal.com
Jack seems to have learned his lesson. Today he only has a cell-phone, some snacks and a few notebooks with him. He signs in and opens up a bag of Kiwi Gummies. He can't wait until tomorrow his hours are back to normal.
[identity profile] 2ls-in-oneill.livejournal.com
Jack comes in and sets up his things, homework, radio, mini-tv, and a few notebooks. He was hoping to have a slow night and be able to get some homework done before tomorrow. And to avoid Cuddy like the plague.

Jack clicked on the radio and cracked open a book.
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
Sundays were usually a good time for the week's paperwork to get done. For some reason the majority of people did not, as a rule, get hurt on Sundays.

Of course, who knew if this place was going to follow that particular rule, but the size of the apartment -or lack there of- made massive paperwork projects somewhat impossible, so that left the Clinic.

Really, he was going to have to start getting out more.

For the time being, however, he was puttering about in the front of the clinic, using the chairs in the waiting room to help him sort and work on filing. He had his little radio with him and the dulcet tones of some song he yoinked off the internet played throughout the front room of the Clinic, keeping him company for the time being.

[ooc: Lazy Sunday if anyone would like to poke or needs to bleed.]
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
Wilson yawned as he wandered along the corridor from the apartment towards the clinic proper. He had a cup of coffee in his hand and a couple of medical journals in the other.

He poked his nose into House's office, retrieving some files from the corner and carrying them along with his journals towards the front counter.

Investigating the area for any lingering notes, shrugging when he found none the oncologist went to check that the front door was open and the lights in the waiting room were turned on. Heading back to the desk he flopped down into the chair and settled in to read and do paperwork.

Doctor on duty. Pester if you so desire.
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
Wilson had spent a couple of days out. Out away from the apartment and away from the clinic, simply walking around. If asked, he’d claim that he was exploring his new home but in truth, he’d simply been walking and trying to wrap his brain around things. It all seemed to keep eluding him however, the divorce…the series of losses at the hospital, coming here to House…

Becoming House’s lover in fact as well as in theory after so many years.

And every so often the incredible insanity of the place snuck in to distract him from his melancholy.

There certainly was plenty!

Strolling into the clinic, the oncologist whistled softly under his breath as he headed for House’s office. He was dressed for autumn in a dark green cashmere sweater that hugged his slender form, nipping in at his trim waist. It was warm but not loose or bulky and allowed him more freedom of movement in case he was needed to work with a patient. For the time being, he had a few phone calls to make regarding blood work.

First up, he had Red’s blood work finished. Sitting down at the desk, he flipped open the tattoo artist’s file and dialed the contact number Red had left.

"Good morning, this message is for, Red."

Once that call was finished, he moved on to the next file, Jack O’Neill. It took a bit of digging to come up with good contact information but he managed to ferret it out and dialed up the young man’s voice mail.

"Good morning, this message is for, Jack O’Neill."

Once those two calls were finished, he spent a couple of hours on the phone with the supply companies, working through a restock order. Going out to the main desk to fax over a couple of req forms, he got the fax started, then filled the time waiting by leaving Lily a note.

Sticking the note on the board it read,

Lily, There has been a request from a Ms. Paige Matthews that you be primary contact person for her in medical matters. In the normal course of any medical situations that come up she would like you to assist her. I’ve made a note in her chart to the effect but wanted you to be aware. Please see me if you have any questions.

Some sort of illegible scrawl that might be his name.


Snagging the forms off the fax, he waited till he had confirmation that the requests had gone through and then headed back into the office. If he knew House and…well he did Biblical sense and all the man hadn’t done a damn thing with his weekend charting.

Wilson settled in to catch up the work, half an ear cocked towards the clinic in case anyone came by needing help.

EDIT: When he got back from speaking with Chef, Wilson wrote out a note in bold black letters and tacked it up to the board in the waiting room.

TO ANYONE WHO IS SINGING ABBA OR THE CARPENTERS.

I have spoken to Chef and he promises that the effects will wear off in a few hours. If you are still singing -and by this I mean involuntarily- tomorrow morning, please return to the Clinic and we'll take a look.

James Wilson

(no subject)

Wednesday, October 12th, 2005 10:56 am
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
Wednesday morning found Wilson down in the clinic with a few of his own journals, a legal pad, the PDA and a cup of coffee. It was better then just sitting in the apartment and watching bad morning game shows and his services might actually be required, one never knew.

And if they weren't...well...he had enough questions of his own, in between the vampire, the mutant and the old soul in a young body he'd met so far.
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
Wilson had a large cup of coffee in one hand and was covering a yawn with the other as he gave the door to the clinic a skillful hip check to throw it open. Padding on into House’s office, he set down the coffee and then tucked the keys into his pocket, reaching automatically for the lab coat hanging from the back of the door.

It was the morning after Homecoming and though House was still solidly passed out in bed back in the apartment, Wilson had found himself waking at his habitual hour with a pounding head and a rather tantalizing case of whisker burn. For those of you keeping track, there hadn’t been any actual sex but there had been a heavy enough necking session that Wilson was dressed in a turtleneck this fine autumn morning.

Cursing his internal clock, along with the morass of thoughts chasing them selves around in his brain, Wilson had gone ahead and gotten out of bed. House was deeply asleep for what felt like the first time in… many, many years and Wilson didn’t want his restlessness to wake the older man.

There was a lot, a hell of a lot on Wilson’s mind so, he was opening the clinic. Work had always provided him with a certain level of escape from the demons of his own mind and he spent a lot of time running from those demons. It was probably part of why he was one of the youngest doctors to be at the top of his field.

If nothing else, Wilson wanted to do an inventory, to make an accurate restock of the place in the wake of O’Neill’s bunch of merry casualties and also to be available if anyone found themselves in need of the clinic’s attention in the bright light of the morning.

Warning, he does reserve the right to make fun of any and all hangover victims.
[identity profile] dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com
Wilson was bored. He was used to days at the hospital, running at full throttle and though he’d deliberately stepped off the fast lane of life; his subconscious had yet to catch up with his conscious choice. So, he was bored and he needed something to do.

Anything to do.

Anything at all.

Somehow, that desperation to alleviate his boredom translated into the oncologist finding his way out of the apartment he shared with House to the bastar…err…Diagnostician’s office. Even if everything else in his life was topsy turvey, Wilson knew one thing would be constant; House would be behind on his charting.

Dressed in jeans and a simple grey sweater, rather then his habitual tie and dress slacks, Wilson had no problem unearthing a stack of charts sitting in House’s ‘In box’. Smirking affectionately, to himself, Wilson carried the stack over to the desk and settled himself down on his best friend’s chair. Pushing his sleeves partially up his forearms, the oncologist flicked on the desk lamp and reached for the first chart.
[identity profile] 2ls-in-oneill.livejournal.com
Jack takes his seat behind the counter again for his shift this week. He really hopes it's not as exiting as last time.

(no subject)

Tuesday, September 27th, 2005 01:52 pm
[identity profile] gotcanewillpoke.livejournal.com
Dr House is in the clinic. You're not seeing things. he's actually there.

At his desk, feet propped up, chair reclined a bit, headphones on, eyes closed, finger tapping a beat on his thigh.

If yu need him, you're going to have to disturb him. Good luck with that.
[identity profile] 2ls-in-oneill.livejournal.com
Jack punches in and takes a seat behind the desk. He takes out his homework and hopes it's a slow day.
[identity profile] gotcanewillpoke.livejournal.com
There is a new notice on the clinic STAFF bulletin board.

In a very doctorish-scribble:

Clinic Staff,

If you need a caffine boost, call The Perkolator in town. Delivery is free to clinic staff. Tell them when you order it is to go on the clinic tab. This offer is for staff only. Patients can suffer with standard school issue coffee

Dr House

A Cunning Plan...

Wednesday, September 14th, 2005 03:30 pm
[identity profile] silent-robert.livejournal.com
::arrives outside the clinic with [livejournal.com profile] immorrisday::

::the two converse (i.e Jay talks a lot while Bob nods)::

::takes a deep breath, and walks inside::

::bites down on the Alka-Seltzer in his mouth, which therefore begins to foam and froth and spray::

::flails overdramatically::

Clinic Voice Mail

Saturday, September 10th, 2005 08:40 pm
[identity profile] gotcanewillpoke.livejournal.com
*The clinic phone will ring three times before a machine picks up and House's voice comes on*

Dealing with an epidemic down here. You think your problems are more important? Leave a message.

*Beep*

Fandom High RPG



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