Fandom Town Emergency Clinic

Stark was at the clinic Monday morning for his regular shift just as he always was. He had coffees for the nurses just as he always did.

"Were you yourselves this weekend?" he asked the nurses. A series of shrugs, nods, and headshakes followed.

Stabby nodded vigorously. Which looked weird, because crab. Maybe too vigorously. Was the crab being suspicious? Probably. He usually was.

The clinic was open, the crab was slightly too cheerful, and the alien was in.

Stark had more than a few war dead to remember on a day like today but that was something he could do later. For now he was at the clinic, ready to help the living should any of them need it.

There were coffees for the nurses, of course. If Stark ever forgot that it would be a sign that something was very wrong.

Stabby was quiet in his tank this morning which, given last week's odd behavior surrounding invasions, everyone was treating as suspicious. That seemed only fair. Stabby was nearly always suspicious. And who knew what missives he might be sending out on his tiny computer.

The clinic was open, the crab was still sus, and the alien was in.

"Still fine?"

Stark rolled his eye at the nurse who asked the question and set down the regular coffee order.

Stabby was engrossed in an article about hermit crab trafficking and didn't even look up.

"Hermit crab smuggling operation going on in Japan," a nurse said. "He's very invested."

Stark just nodded and sat down with his own coffee.

The clinic was open, the crab was reading about crustacean crimes, and the alien was in.

Stabby was playing solitaire next to his tank today. He had crab-sized cards that had ocean designs on them and were actually quite pretty.

Stark stopped to admire them, declined an offer to play a game of poker, and settled in at the desk with his own coffee and handed over the ones for the nurses as well.

The clinic was open, the crab was hoping to fleece someone at cards, and the alien was in.

The crab was asleep today with a DO NOT DISTURB sign on the tank.

"He had a rough weekend," one nurse whispered. "And he's real cranky so try not to wake him up. You can wake me up though. Coffee?"

Wordlessly, Stark set down the coffees and picked up his own.

The clinic was open, the crab was asleep, and everyone was being quiet. For now.

There was a giant crab sculpture in the clinic lobby today. At least Stark thought it was a sculpture. Perhaps it was meant to be functional.

"Stabby bought it off seaBay," a nurse explained. "Didn't check the dimensions."

"I see," said Stark. "It's... something."

"It really is," another nurse agreed before picking up a coffee and heading into the back to do something.

The clinic was open, the crab had been doing some shopping, and the alien was in.

The nurses and Stabby were all wearing green today. Stabby's green was a ridiculous tiny hat but it still counted.

"He's gonna pinch you," a nurse warned Stark. "Don't get close."

"I have a green shirt!" Stark protested.

"You've met the crab. Do you really think wearing green will prevent pinching?"

Stark gave the tank a wide berth, hoped Stabby wouldn't leave said tank, and settled in at the desk.

The clinic was open. The crab was pinchy. The alien was in.

Stark looked like he'd spent a week relaxing in the sun. Because he had.

He'd brought back some rum for the nurses and delivered that today along with the usual round of coffees.

Stabby got a little carved crab to decorate his tank with. Stark didn't want him to feel left out.

The clinic was open, sadly not in a tropical locale, and the alien was in.

Stabby was packing a suitcase when Stark arrived at the clinic.

"Going to visit his lobsters," a nurse said. "On account of the pollen."

"Right. The pollen." Stark nodded, cleared his throat, and held out the morning's coffee. "It's a stronger brew, they said. At the Perk."

"Might need something strong." The nurse nodded in return and turned away. "Oh. You should unpack those boxes there. Set up the display. None of us got to it yet."

The boxes were nearly overflowing with a variety of useful items for this week, including a number of extremely informational pamphlets about any number of topics including several on safety and consent. There were condoms, of course, a huge selection. There was lube. There was bottled water and sports drinks.

Stark was attempting to focus on setting things up and not on the actual items. He was at work. He was working. He was being useful.

The clinic was open, the crab was planning a romantic getaway, and the alien was in and trying not to think too much.

Stark walked in, clutching the day's coffees, and set them on the desk with a very pathetic sounding "it's cold."

"We know," the nurses chorused. "Warm in here though."

Stabby even had a little sunlamp aimed at one end of his tank where he was sitting on a tiny beach chair and scrolling through his phone.

"TikTok," a nurse said by way of explanation.

Stark just shrugged. He was still free of all social media, somehow, even after his long association with Summer.

The clinic was open, the crab was watching short videos, and the alien was unhappy about the cold.

The little pear tree, still birdless, remained in the clinic lobby.

Stabby, of course, remained in his tank. Today he had a tiny wrapped package in there with him.

"He got you a birthday present, for tomorrow," one of the nurses said when Stark out the day's coffees. "He bought something off seaBay, i think."

"Thank you Stabby." Stark told him, grinning, as he reached for the gift.

The clinic was open, the crab was feeling generous, and the alien was in.

There was a metal pole in the lobby of the clinic when Stark arrived. There was a matching, smaller pole, inside Stabby's tank.

Stabby also had a list next to him.

"It's Festivus," a nurse explained. That wasn't much an explanation.

"He's ready for the Airing of Grievances. And the Feats of Strength."

Stark just nodded and sipped his own coffee after handing over the rest of the drinks.

The clinic was open, the crab had a list of grievances to air, and the alien was in.

Stark had remained unmolested by mistletoe on his walk to the coffee shop from his apartment and from the coffee shop to the clinic.

He was, one might say, blissfully unaware of what day of Fandom weirdness it was. Until he walked in to the clinic and saw that Stabby had a sprig of mistletoe in his claw with tiny shredded greenery scattered around his tank.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," a nurse said, grinning. "Happy mistletoe day! Don't open that cupboard there. We've got some trapped. Hope nobody needs bandaids."

The clinic was open, infested with mistletoe, the crab was taking care of what he could, and the alien was in.

There were ponies. In sweaters. Even Stabby was pleased by this development and was slicing carrots into smaller pieces to pass out to the ponies.

The carrots were courtesy of Stark who had, upon seeing his first pony this morning, immediately run back up to his apartment for a bag of carrots.

The clinic was open and all employees including the crab were charmed by the ponies. And yes, Stark was taking lots of photos.

Stabby had kept his little pillowfort. Perhaps due to the fact that he seemed to have a new knife with which to defend his cozy fortress.

"I'm not sure waving the knife around is wise amongst all those pillows," Stark told him before he handed over the day's coffees and settled in at the desk.

So far the pillows remained unsliced. But for how long?

"He looks so comfortable," Stark said, impressed, as he looked at Stabby's flannel pajama-clad self. "Where did he get all the tiny pillows to build a fort?"

"Stabby works in mysterious ways," a nurse intoned. "Hope you brought cozy coffees this morning."

The clinic was open, the crab had declared out to be Pajama Day, and the alien was in.

The weather was turning colder but not cold yet. Still, Stabby had apparently decided it was sweater weather for crabs. Where the crab had gotten a sweater was a mystery (though the answer was probably SeaBay) but it did look hand (or perhaps claw?)made.

Stark had a hoodie on, not a sweater, but he was drinking a PSL because he was reasonably sure that Summer wouldn't be stopping by before he could dispose of the evidence.

The nurses were drinking their own coffees, as usual, and admiring the stitching on the crab's sweater.

The clinic was open, the crab was cozy, and the alien was in.

Stark had had an odd sort of weekend. It had been good to see Chiana, of course, it was always good to see her even if she had been disappointed by the lack of Summer for most of the weekend. They'd still enjoyed their time.

So, it seemed, had Stabby. He was showing off photos of him with visiting crustacean relations to the nurses and to Stark.

"You didn't bring your guest to meet us," a nurse told Stark pointedly. "Stabby did."

"He lives here," Stark pointed out. The nurses were unimpressed with this excuse. But they were still enjoying their coffees.

The clinic was open, the crab had pictures, and the alien was in.

"Have a sticker," a nurse said as Stark entered with the morning's supply of coffee. "Stabby ordered a ton of sea creature ones off seaBay. He kept the lobsters for himself but there are plenty of crabs in the pile there."

"These are very cute. Thank you, Stabby."

The crab clacked his claws at Stark before getting back to whatever important crab business he was attending to.

Stark picked out a shiny sticker and stuck it to the back of his phone before settling in at the desk.

The clinic was open, the crab had a lot of stickers, and the alien was in.

Stark had coffees, as always, that he brought into the clinic with him. It was still iced coffee weather and pumpkin spice weather! These things should be taken advantage of.

Stabby was writing a letter, presumably to his lobster loves, and generally ignoring all the other clinic staff.

The clinic was open, the crab was busy, and the alien was enjoying his PSL.

Stabby was moping today.

"He misses the lobsters and Navaan," one nurse said sagely. "But we bought some Crab Union merch to cheer him up. Here, change your shirt."

Stark took the shirt tossed to him and quickly pulled off his own shirt and replaced it with the Crab Union one.

"Thanks for the coffees."

Stark nodded, smiled, and settled in at the desk.

The clinic was open, the crab was mopey, and the alien was in (though his new shirt was a little too tight).