Fandom Town Emergency Clinic

It's noon before he makes it to the clinic.

His last day.

He's sitting at the desk, with a cup of coffee and Johnny Cash on the radio. He'd brought Cash in from town, and the pup in on the floor chewing on a rawhide bone.

Dr is in. Come say goodbye. He's on slowtime unil this evening

He opens the clinic around 10 am, puts a pot of hazelnut coffee on to brew, and a soft jazz CD on the stereo system.

He fishes a red lolly pop out of the desk drawer, then commences to going throug the drawers. There's not much, really. He's made sure of that with his periodic and impulsive cleaning sprees. He found the box of pens Wilson had ordered long ago, that he'd retrieved out of the trash after one of his fits of total destruction. He sighed and stashed the flimsy plastic container in his shoulder bag.

There wasn't much else worth keeping, but he put what little there was in a small box. The desk in he office was much the same, and the box he'd filled was light enough that he could manage it back to his apartment. He set to work on reorganising the filing cabinent in the office, because it was something to do to pass the time.


Doctor is in and available, though on SP until after 3pm est. Assistants were welcome to pick up a thread. Come bleed, steal coffee, or say goodbye. Friday will be Dr House's last day in the clinic

The clinic is open bright and early, but Dr House is nowhere to be found. If one looks hard enough, he's on the floor in the office, behind the desk, with his iPod headphone in his ears and a not!puppy on his chest. Interrupting him would not be wise.

He slips out around 11am and heads in to town. He returns on a motorcycle, which he parks in front of the apartment door. It's a Triumph model, and it's his new baby. Touch it and die. He had it specially ordered and designed to accomodate his leg and his cane.

He has an appointment to speak with the principal, so he completely by passes the clinic and heads down to talk to him.


House will be scarce today, due to getting the motorcycle and talking to the principal. Hopefully one of the assistants will step in and cover any tags House! mun is *not* available until after 3:30 pm est in any case

He'd checked on Vala, of course, but he hadn't opened the clinic because he just didn't want to deal with it. The on-call light was on, and he was technically available. If needed. He spent the morning lounging on the couch watching mindless television to pass the time. He hadn't decided if he was going to keep the appointment with Susan Dr Pevensie, but he found himself letting Cash out at quarter to two, and five minutes later he was in the clinic.

He sat at his desk and sighed. Maybe he should bring the plant from Blair back to the clinic. It might cheer the place up, once it started to grow. And Blair had said he should talk to it. He had plenty of time to talk to inanimate objects when he was working clinic.

He opened the top drawer of the desk and pulled out a thick manilla envelope. His medicalfile. Copies of doctor's reports, his current perscriptions, the pages of the notebook Wilson logged his progress and reactions in after he gave up the Vicodin. He sighed again and swiveled in his chair to look at Susan's door. He didn't need her to tell him he was a addict, and he didn't appreciate ehr making assumptions as such. He was an addict, and he knew it. And aside from a couple of teeny timy little slips, he'd been off the Vicodin since November 20. And did those slip ups really count, when he'd puked the pills back up each time? Probably.

The doctor is in, but he has an appointment with Dr Pevensie on the books. The question remains if he will honor the appointment or not. If he does, the on-all light will be on, but I wouldn't recommend interrupting. If he doesn't, the on-call light may remain on because he's feeling somewhat anti social and I wouldn't recommend interrupting hisbrooding. Just fair warning, yo.

He stashed his crutches in the office and sat in the rolling chair from the desk. He had charting to finish, notes about Thursday night to document.

He didn't remember writing excuses for the kids, and wondered if he'd done it so automatically that he forgot he'd done it, or if he'd, well, forgotten to do it.

He tugged the crossword puzzle out of the desk drawer, but couldn't concentrate on that either.

Doctor is in. No coffee, no Cash -neither dog nor music. No mobility either, but he's not immediately advertising that. You know how pools without life guards say 'Swim At Your Own Risk'? Yeah.

[OOC: Slowtime likely, yeah, but don't hesitate to tag in]

He'd had a comfortable dinner with Wilson, then retired to the small apartment with Cash. Cash had taken a while to settle down, preferring to run around the apartment and pester House to throw his ball for him. The pair had finally collapsed in the bed, sometime after midnight.

House swung open the clinic doors just after 8 am. He was showered and shaved and breakfasted. Cash had eaten and romped out in the courtyard. It was a rare morning for House, and the clinic was the last place he wanted to be, but there he was. At the desk, sucking on a red lolly while Cash played with the ball at his feet.


Dr is in. Coffee is brewing, Johnny Cash is singing to the waiting room. Come on in. He is still taking blood samples, if anyone is willing to give

Saturday had been a good day for him. He hadn't managed to get to the book shop, which was good. He didn't want to see Aziraphale yet. Soon. But not yet.

By noon Sunday morning, he was in the clinic, playing The Beatles instead of Johnny Cash. Cash the puppy was asleep under the desk. The doors were open, coffee brewed in the pot.


The doctor is in. And in a fairly decent mood.

He'd slept soundly until nearly 10:30. A shower, a quick breakfast of toast and meds, including aspirin for his pounding headache, and he was more or less ready to start the day.

January 1, 2006. A new year. A new beginning.

He decided to open the clinic doors, just in case. He expected several of the students, and possibly the school staff, would have headaches this morning. He couldn't say if any of them would come down to the clicnic, but at least the option was there.

He put coffee on to brew and Johnny Cash in the stereo.

He sat at the desk, legs propped up on the flat surface, head tilted back to touch the wall.


The doctor is in. He's a wee bit grumpy, due to his own hangover, but that wouldn't stop him mocking anyone who came in looking for a little relief from their own headaches. Come whimper, bleed, or snag a cup of coffee if you dare

After a relaxing evening with Aziraphale, House felt much better about himself, and the future. There were still a lot of wrinkles that needed to be ironed out, but he was, at last, on the right track.

As long as he didn't screw up again. But he wouldn't dwell on that. He was going to be more positive, focus on the good things. Like a morning without pain. He took a warm shower and ate a quick breakfast, then wandered into the clinic.

He didn't intend to stay long. He had some shopping to do, and needed to go in to town. But for the early morning hours, he could be found with the clinic doors open, bent over the desk working on charting and end-of-the-year paperwork.

It's Monday. He's been sitting in the clinic all day, but kept the lights off and the on-call beacon on because his mun has to work he's feeling antisocial.

The desk is spotless, though he did take everything out of the trash can after his little cleaning spree on Sunday. He filled the drawers back up, and figures Wilson will have a difficult time finding *anything*, and he'll hear about it later, but it felt good to toss everything when he did it.

He's opened the doors, finally, and is at the desk with a red lolly, and a bottle of Vicodin sitting in front of him. Wilson's crossword puzzle book is there too, but he hasn't written one single word all day.

Dr is in, if you dare to see him

House is in the clinic, laying on the floor behind the desk with his feet propped up on he chair. He has headphones on, connected to his iPod.

Anyone coming in to the clinic might notice his cane handle sticking out from under the desk, or the occassional hand moving as he keps time with the music he's hearing.

Disturb at your own risk. He's brooding.


[OOC: Mun is braving the malls today...pray for her. Will respond upon returning home, if anyone drops by the clinic. Just thought I should post House in, since he is *supposed* to be working]

Dr House is in the clinic. He doesn't intend to work, but when does he ever intend to work? He's checked on Jack, and is at the reception desk, pen in hand.

He has coffee and lollypops. Maybe even a crossword puzzle book he's confiscated from wilson.

Interrupt if you feel so inclined. He really doesn't mind a patient now and then.

House is a wee bit excited about the evening to come.

He's having trouble relaxing enough to sleep.

So...May as well work a few hours in the clinic, right?

Riiiiight.

He's sucking on a red lolly, and he's in the office. Disturb if you dare.

Wilson told House about his initial talk with Aziraphale, the conversation that focused on his own trials and tribulations rather then the angel's more personal struggles that had come later, while House held him and nuzzled against his neck, a hand idly stroking his hair. It segued in to Wilson telling House about Jonathan's injuries, and then sleep. Peaceful sleep. It wasn't until he woke up that House realised he hadn't taken his bedtime dose of Vicodin.

His leg was stiff, uncooperative. He groped for his pills form the bedisde table, and lay on his back while it worked itself through his system. Head turned to look at Wilson, to just watch him sleep, he found the steady rise and fall of his lover's breath.

He wanted to post another notice at the clinic, to let the students and staff know, unless one of the assistants opened the doors, the clinic would be closed. At least for a few hours. He sighed, sat up, and reached for his thigh with both hands. A few minutes gentle massage, combined with the Vicodin, worked enough of the kinks out that he could consider getting up.

Except he'd left his cane in the living room.

Another sigh, a glance at Wilson to make sure he was still sleeping peacefully, and he heaved himself up witht he aid of the bedside table. His pill bottle fell ove rnad rolled onto the floor. He'd just have to pick it up later. He slipped into a pair of sweats, but didn't bother with a shirt. He limped carefully out to get his cane, and more confidantly out to the clinic to post the same note he'd put up yesterday.

<Clinic Closed, due to personal emergancy. If you have an emergancy and require medical attention, contact Dr House via his pager. Do not page Dr House unless you have a valid medical emergancy. Do not attempt to page Dr Wilson. For any reason.

Satisfied, he headed back to the apartment to convince WIlson to spend a few daylight hours in bed.


[OOC: Wilson!mun is away from the computer all day. House!mun is away from the computer until...whenever...Could possibly be here by 3:30 EST, not likely before due to work. If youhave a medical emergancy...Please understand the muns are away. It would be really groovy is one of the active assistants could open the clinic for the day and negate House's memo. But understandable if that's not possible. Thanks]

He wandered in to the clinic around 7pm, Fandom Time. Not that that's really terribly important, but it makes for a good entrance.

He sat at the desk with a red lolly pop and the word games section of the newspaper.

He's hoping for a quiet night. And maybe some lab work. With assistance from his very capable partner, of course.

Dr House on duty. Against his better judgement

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

House is in the lab, running the bloodwork Wilson asked him to do. He's brought a small radio with him, so at least there's music, though it has to sit outside on the reception desk so the air waves don't interfere with the lab equiptment.

He's humming along with whatever classic rock song is playing in the back ground, while he runs the blood. Against his usual pattern, he takes the time to scribble notes on the patient files just to show Wilson up. And to show Wilson how much he appreicates how Wilson has stepped up and taken over, allowing Hosue the luxury of skipping out on clinic duty as much as possible. Which has a lot to do with mun availability, but still

Michael's blood work is a straight forward test, and a good place to start. He lines the others up in no particular order, Hank, Parker, Chloe, and Duce.

Dr House is not on active duty, hopefully one of the assistants is working tonight? But House is in the clinic, so if somene stumbles in and distracts him from the blood work, he might reward them with a red lolly. Probably purple or orange, depends on how grateful/grumpy he is


[OOC: If any of you patients are looking for specific results, PLEASE let me know. I'm not good with the 'find whatever you want' thing. Need specifics, please. Duce the obvious exception, House isn't going to get to her blood work tonight since that's interactive and scheduled for Wednesday]

Red lollypop in hand (and very much aware *cough*someone*cough* has been in his stash), Dr House is sitting behind the desk in the clinic reception area with one of Wilson's medical journals open in front of him. He's read the same sentence at least ten times, his mind too busy to focus on the words. Last night with Wilson and Angelus had been...interesting to say the least (and yes, vagueness as it's not been played out yet. Hush)

He finally gives up on the article, flips the periodical closed, limps over to Lisa's latest bulletin board, leaving his cane hanging off the side of his desk. The board fails to hold his attention, and he ends up pacing the waiting area of the clinic. Without the cane. Which isn't really good for his leg, but gives him an excuse to take an extra Vicodin.