I don’t own House or BTVS. No infringement is intended. Sadly, no profit will be made from this either.
On Monday morning, Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital experienced something it hadn't done for as long as it could remember.
The current Dean of Medicine, Dr Lisa Cuddy, whistled happily while walking into her place of work. She greeted everyone with the most brilliant smile she was capable of. Not that she usually looked gloomy while coming into work, but the current dazzling, eye-sparkling smile was a truly special sight. She even all but flirted with everyone on the way to her office.
Still humming, she closed the door behind her and got herself organised for a day she'd rather spend with someone else.
Last night had been great. Once she'd overcome the fact that Buffy's wound was indeed healed, she had quickly removed the stitches. Although she'd wanted to ask so many questions about that particular fact, she had quickly realised that Buffy was uncomfortable with answering them. Or questions on how Buffy had gotten any of the, albeit faint, scars she'd pointed out.
So Cuddy had moved on to simpler questions and they had spent the rest of the night talking some more about their general life. Buffy had talked about growing up, her ice-skating and other dreams as little girl. In return, Cuddy told her about her own childhood, her friends and family – they were Buffy's family too, after all.
She had also talked a bit about Buffy's biological father. How he, although they weren't together anymore, had tried to support Cuddy after she made the decision to keep her baby instead of running off. Yes, he had been relieved when Cuddy had suddenly changed her mind but she wasn't really blaming him. And, even after all these years they hadn't lost contact completely. He had also asked both Cuddy's opinion on, and for her approval of, telling his wife about their daughter.
Later, when they realised just how late it was, Cuddy had offered Buffy her guest bedroom and Buffy had accepted. Just this one simple thought was enough to keep Cuddy's eyes alight with happiness. This morning, they had had breakfast together before Cuddy had left for work. She had offered to give Buffy a lift but she had refused and said she'd rather walk.
Cuddy hadn't been too pleased with it, but Buffy had convinced her that her Slayer-radar would lead her home safely on the same way she'd used the previous day. Being confronted with her daughter's stubbornness left Cuddy no choice but to agree. So she had given Buffy a bottle of water and made her a sandwich – just to be on the safe side, they couldn't leave the baby to starve, after all – and watched her daughter leave until she had been out of sight.
Sighing at the memory, Cuddy turned to her now booted up computer and went to work.
After checking her mobile was switched on and charged so Buffy could reach her if need be.
Or once she was home as she'd promised.
Later the same morning, Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching hospital was once again greeted by a whistling member of staff.
This time, however, it wasn't all that unusual.
But a sure sign that aforementioned member of staff was up to no good.
It was none other than Dr Gregory House, after all.
Ignoring the scolding glances Nurse Brenda was throwing him as he sauntered through the open clinic, House went straight for the elevators.
Repeatedly jabbing the button to his floor, he impatiently waited for the doors to close. Because, in all honesty, keeping up the innocent whistling started to become rather straining.
Unfortunately, whatever Power was in charge today, didn't abide by his wishes. Just as the door was to close completely, a hand slipped in the ever narrowing gap between the doors, pushing them open again.
House groaned and just increased his button-jabbing exercise. To no avail, of course.
"Morning," Wilson said, while raising a questioning eye-brow. Or two. "Evading clinic duty again?"
"Nope. Got future ducklings to torture," House replied.
Wilson looked at his friend – there was a slightly odd note to his voice today – and this time his eye-brows actually met his hairline. "Nice glove."
Looking at his hand, House acted as if he saw the glove for the first time. And shrugged his shoulders. "It looked lost. Thought I might give it a change of scenery." Carefully moving his other hand, he made sure that glove was nicely hidden in his jeans' pocket.
"That's … nice of you," Wilson replied, his voice throbbing with both sarcasm and curiosity.
House just shrugged his shoulders again while he continued to abuse the elevator buttons. That actually felt good! Experimentally shrugging his shoulders again, he wanted to moan in relief. The movement caused his shirt to rub along that very itchy spot on his shoulder blade and, short of dislocating his shoulder while trying to reach it or rubbing himself on the elevator walls, it was the only way to find some reprieve from the itch.
"House?" Wilson interrupted his musings. "What are you doing?"
"Morning exercise," House replied while sending him his death glare. Wilson had better not be thinking of contradicting him.
Wilson sighed. It didn't look like now was a good time to bring up Buffy Summers again. Though he couldn't even think of a semi-plausible explanation for House's weird behaviour. Looking at his feet to overcome the awkwardness, well, his awkwardness of the situation, Wilson caught another movement out of the corner of his eye. His head snapping up again, he looked at his friend with wide open eyes.
Vaguely motioning towards House's nether regions, Wilson asked with a rather high pitch in his voice, "Are you … are you doing what I think you're doing?"
"Nope," House replied innocently. "I'm not thinking of Cuddy." Tilting his head slightly, he added calmly - while continuing to scratch his, well, itch - "Right now you're the only person on my mind."
Which was true. He'd just thought about asking his friend to prescribe him some anti-histamines for his allergic reaction to, well, something, that caused his various itching body parts.
Wilson, however, wasn't aware of that afterthought. In fact, he thought exactly what almost everyone would have thought in the same situation. House had his hand in his pocket, clearly rubbing himself. Therefore, Wilson's very predictable reaction was to splutter something unintelligible before moving as far away from House as possible.
House shrugged. He might be itching all over, but the look on Wilson's face was almost worth it. So, really, how would he able to look at himself without disgust if he didn’t built on it? Thankfully, the scratching in itself helped with that too. Because, as everybody who had ever experienced some sort of itching knew, scratching that itch brings not only relief but also a smile onto your face. Hence, after making sure Wilson could see his face, House did one additional, more than obvious, scratching movement in his crotch before closing his eyes and sighing in obvious bliss.
Hearing Wilson gasp, House opened his eyes and said with conviction, "Wow. That
was really good."
Wilson continued to stare open-mouthed at House. Whistling, the latter left the lift as soon as the door opened. When Wilson didn't follow, he turned around, asking innocently. "You coming?"
Finally coming out of his shock, Wilson closed his mouth and quickly caught up with House. In fact, he started to run along the corridor to catch up with him. Then again, House entering Wilson's office instead of his own might have been the main reason for his hurry.
Upon entering, he saw House leaning against his desk, scribbling something down. Leaving the door open, Wilson quickly closed the distance between them and looked at … his own prescription pad? "Huh?"
Tearing off the top slip, House looked at his friend in clear amusement. "Ah, you're still looking for your ability to speak. Need any help?"
Scowling, Wilson walked around his desk and let himself fall into his chair. "Very funny."
House bowed slightly before putting the prescription right in front of his friend. "You can have an autograph once I've got yours."
Brows still furrowed, Wilson took the paper into his hands and read what House had written down. "Anti-histamines?"
"What?" House asked, widening his eyes in mock-shock. "You can't expect me to scratch all my itchy bits in front of a patient. Or worse, Cuddy!" Leaning over, he whispered conspiratorially, "Some are in rather sensitive areas, you know?"
Blushing, both in embarrassment at his earlier thoughts and in anger at himself for once again falling for one of House's ruses, Wilson quickly signed the prescription. "I didn't know you had any allergies."
House shrugged, took the prescription out of Wilson's hand and left for the door. "Me neither."
Buffy looked at the phone.
She really should phone Giles. And Dawn. Willow and Xander. Tell them she was pregnant. Unless, of course, there was something more important to do.Like cleaning.
Unfortunately, cleaning her whole apartment twice was already more than enough for one day.Phoning her mother?
Nope, she'd done that already when she arrived back at her apartment. She didn't want to sound too desperate after all.Thinking of baby names?
That was important too, right? Then again, a list with twenty boy's and girl's names should be enough for one day.
She had counted them. Thrice.Eating?
Nope, she was still full. She'd just finished her after-lunch snack. Or, rather, her after after-lunch snack. Sleeping?
Nope, that didn't work either.
Sighing, Buffy took the phone and pressed one of the speed-dial buttons. Listening to the ringing on the other end, she hoped for some inspiration of how to tell her family. Her thoughts, however, where interrupted by an unexpected voice. "B? What's up?"
Eyes suddenly wide open, Buffy asked rather confused, "Why are you in England?"
"Huh?" Now it was Faith' turn to be confused. "You alright? I'm still in Cleveland."
"I-" Buffy started before moving the phone away from her ear so she could look at it. True, the display showed Faith' number in Cleveland. Weird. Shaking her head, she moved the phone back and started again, "I thought I'd dialled England."
Faith chuckled. "The kid taking you over already?"
"No-o," Buffy pouted. "Just pressed the wrong button."
"Uh huh," Faith replied, amusement clearly evident in her voice. "Sounds more like delaying the call to Dawn and the others."
"That's not true!" Buffy said, still pouting.
Hey! She could go and look at stuff for her baby's room! You could never start early enough with these things, right? Like choosing a crib and a couple of month later realising you didn't like that one after all. That won't happen if she started to look at available models now. Ha!
Chuckling from the other end of the phone brought Buffy back to reality, though.
"Hey, B, you still there?"
"Yeah. Uhm. Sorry, I got distracted," Buffy replied sheepishly. Now she just needed to find an excuse for calling Faith. "Oh, did you have a chance to talk to Eve and Sondra yet?"
Chuckling again, Faith replied, "Nice save."
"Dunno what you're talking about," Buffy said innocently.
Faith snorted. "Right. Anyway, the answer is yes. They are rather excited at the prospect of working for, and I quote, not just The
Slayer, but The Incredible
"They still haven't stopped calling me that?" Buffy groaned. She knew most new slayers considered her as some kind of celebrity, no matter how often she said she didn't want that. They just ignored her. When she had complained to Dawn about it, her sister had just shrugged her shoulders and told her to suck it up and live with it. Besides, it also meant they would do all the dirty jobs if Buffy asked them to, so why complain about it?
Buffy thought Faith sounded way too smug about it. Realisation dawning, she complained, "You're encouraging them!"
"Yep." Smiling broadly into the phone, Faith added, "Just making the best of the situation, you know."
Buffy just huffed and didn't grace her friend with a reply.
Not even being bothered by it, Faith continued, "Robin already started to transfer them to a local College. All they need is a permanent place to stay and they'll be ready to move within the week."
"Oh, good." A new thought entered Buffy's mind. A lovely new thought, actually. One that needed immediate action on and therefore prevented her from further phone calls. "I've been thinking."
"Ouch," Faith commented.
Too pleased with herself, Buffy chose to ignore her. "They could have my apartment. It's convenient for slaying and college as well. It was supposed to be an interim solution for me anyway. Now, with the baby, I'd rather find something more suitable, you know."
"That might work," Faith replied thoughtfully before she started to grin again. A fact that was clearly evident in her voice as she continued, "You just came up with it. Cause now you need to go and find another place. No time for more phone calls!"
"You're right. No more time. Things to do. See ya. Bye."
"Whoa! Wait, B," Faith interrupted quickly. "Look, neither I nor Robin will spill the beans. I'll make sure Sondra and Eve keep their mouths shut too. But they'll find out sooner or later anyway."
"Later sounds great," Buffy said with a weak smile.
Faith snorted again. "You've got till Christmas."
"But you promised!" Buffy exclaimed disappointed.
Shaking her head, Faith continued, "No matter where you are at Christmas, they'll be there too."
"Damn," Buffy announced whole-heartedly.
Snickering, Faith said rather hypocritical, "On second thought, I'll be there too. Watching the show and all."
There was a loud huff on the other end that was quickly cut off by the dial tone. Chuckling to herself, Faith put her phone down as well. And couldn't wait for the next time Buffy 'misdialled'.
--A/N: Sorry for the longer than expected delay! But I forgot to pack Muse when I left for my vacation. Turns out she's rather devious and resentful. So, while I was away, she let a certain Nas T. Cold into my apartment – who promptly ambushed me as soon as I returned. Go figure. Anyway, I finally got rid of Mr Cold and updates will be more frequent again! In fact, I'm already giggling my way through the next chapter …