If Claire could have flown, she would have. Unfortunately that not only wasn't the case - not least due to her oversized bump - but her spontaneous squeal ratcheted the headache pounding through her skull up another notch.
She screwed her eyes shut against the pain, patting the mattress beside her rapidly, hoping for a hug as soon as possible.
"Why, blondie, your taste in men in improving," House sneered.
Claire scowled further, rubbing her temples frantically. The man was a bastard: he wouldn't give her any drugs and had the bedside manner of a wombat. All that euphoric cheerfulness she'd felt during the last few days had well and truly departed.
"Not you, you can get stuffed - and for the last time I'm not a bloody Pom!"
"You people keep telling me that and ya just don't get it.."
"Like I give a rat's arse!" Gah! Pain! "Shit.. Damon, my head's killing me and all he wants to do is feel me up!"
"Well if you're offering -"
"SHUT UP! I want paracetamol -"
"Which might harm you or your baby, given all the other crap they've been pumping into your system over the last couple of days, and - surprise, surprise - that's why you need an examination. Wow. Who'd'a thunk it, huh?"
"I. Know!" Claire ground out. "But it's not going to be from you. Just.. go do some research and find me something that'll actually fucking help. Don't even try to tell me you don't know what's in the medicine cabinet either, because no one's going to believe you."
"Fine. Far be it from me to keep a sheepshagger and an alien from taking care of you in your delicate condition," House stood, barely leaning on his stick as he plucked a bundle of magazines from the tray table. "They're far more capable. Gods in the field of medical science."
Claire flopped back on the bed in relief as her snarky tormentor headed out the door. Good riddance to bad rubbish. He might be trying to help, but he had a crappy way of going about it. Then the tap of House's cane stopped rather than faded away. Oh no.. just go, please..?
"You know, there is something that you could do to help," the doctor's overly cheerful tones rang out.
Damon's voice sounded closer to the bed no, but uneasy. "What's that?"
"Dopamine." Claire could almost hear those eyebrows waggling. "A neurohormone released by the hypothalamus to keep you happy when you're, you know - happy. Know what I mean? All natural, no needles, just Mother Nature's gift to you and me."
That did it. She had no idea what the bastard was on about, but if there was something that could help.. "Whatever, I don't give a shit any more! I'll love you forever if there's anything that'll make me feel half-human again!"
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timeasmymeasure
[Claire] Found Her (tag MB, open)
Date: 2006-08-23 02:51 pm (UTC)If Claire could have flown, she would have. Unfortunately that not only wasn't the case - not least due to her oversized bump - but her spontaneous squeal ratcheted the headache pounding through her skull up another notch.
She screwed her eyes shut against the pain, patting the mattress beside her rapidly, hoping for a hug as soon as possible.
"Why, blondie, your taste in men in improving," House sneered.
Claire scowled further, rubbing her temples frantically. The man was a bastard: he wouldn't give her any drugs and had the bedside manner of a wombat. All that euphoric cheerfulness she'd felt during the last few days had well and truly departed.
"Not you, you can get stuffed - and for the last time I'm not a bloody Pom!"
"You people keep telling me that and ya just don't get it.."
"Like I give a rat's arse!" Gah! Pain! "Shit.. Damon, my head's killing me and all he wants to do is feel me up!"
"Well if you're offering -"
"SHUT UP! I want paracetamol -"
"Which might harm you or your baby, given all the other crap they've been pumping into your system over the last couple of days, and - surprise, surprise - that's why you need an examination. Wow. Who'd'a thunk it, huh?"
"I. Know!" Claire ground out. "But it's not going to be from you. Just.. go do some research and find me something that'll actually fucking help. Don't even try to tell me you don't know what's in the medicine cabinet either, because no one's going to believe you."
"Fine. Far be it from me to keep a sheepshagger and an alien from taking care of you in your delicate condition," House stood, barely leaning on his stick as he plucked a bundle of magazines from the tray table. "They're far more capable. Gods in the field of medical science."
Claire flopped back on the bed in relief as her snarky tormentor headed out the door. Good riddance to bad rubbish. He might be trying to help, but he had a crappy way of going about it. Then the tap of House's cane stopped rather than faded away. Oh no.. just go, please..?
"You know, there is something that you could do to help," the doctor's overly cheerful tones rang out.
Damon's voice sounded closer to the bed no, but uneasy. "What's that?"
"Dopamine." Claire could almost hear those eyebrows waggling. "A neurohormone released by the hypothalamus to keep you happy when you're, you know - happy. Know what I mean? All natural, no needles, just Mother Nature's gift to you and me."
That did it. She had no idea what the bastard was on about, but if there was something that could help.. "Whatever, I don't give a shit any more! I'll love you forever if there's anything that'll make me feel half-human again!"