Lady Writer and the House Call: A Sloth Ficlet
Lady Writer, pink sleep mask in place, wriggled a bit, trying to find a comfortable position whilst prodding the very large lump of cat (better known as Lucky) stretched out across her feet. She was at home battling the Never Ending Ear-Jaw-Head Thingie, wondering if she was going to end up being featured on "Mystery Diagnosis," and missing her lads.
Guy, Lucas, Porter and Harry were scattered around other parts of the Fandom and not lounging in her den as usual.
The box of Cheez-Its was looking positively lonely in there. She found she even missed Guy's and John's bickering.
"Could you, er-shift just a bit, Old Man," LW murmured wearily. Lucky was making her right foot go numb.
"Certainly, if it will make you feel better," said a dark chocolate voice.
LW started, then slowly tugged the eye mask to her forehead. Being blind as a bat, she had to squint at the figure sitting on the side of her bed, even though he was only a couple of feet away.
You couldn't mistake that orange jumpsuit, though. Either an escapee from the county jail's work detail had broken into her house, or--
"Dr. Alec Track . . ." She breathed and fumbled for her glasses. "Is that really-you?"
The fuzzy figure gave a chuckle. "Right in one, LW."
As she slipped on her spectacles, the handsome face came into focus, complete with earnest eyes as blue as the sky he flew in, an adorably crinkled brow, and a sweet, solicitous smile.
"And how is the patient feeling?"
~Suddenly very aware of her distinctly non-glamorous flannel PJS and untidy hair. And no lippie~
"I-er-" LW sighed, a rather silly grin suddenly spreading across her face. ~ Oh, what the heck. He's here!~
"Suddenly, much, much better, doctor dearest." She paused, gave another, rather melodramatic, sigh, and pressed her hand to her chest. "Although, my heart is doing that odd little out-of-synch thing again . . ."
The good doctor whipped out his stethoscope and LW's heart skipped a beat.
He flashed her a disarming grin before puckering that delicate Cupid's bow of an upper lip as he blew on the stethoscope. "Need to warm it up a bit first. Now, let me check that heart of yours out, dear LW."
His brow furrowed as he pressed the instrument to LW's chest and listened. "My, my-it is showing signs of mild tachycardia . . . I understand you have a history of it?"
LW nodded, gazing raptly into that azure gaze.
~Yep, a history . . . but for some reason it's gotten worse, ever since your Creator came into my life~
Dr. Track took her wrist in his broad hand and pressed his long, elegant fingers to the back of it.
"Hmmm . . . your pulse rate is up, too."
~Gee, I wonder why? Oh, my, how warm and strong his hands are-and so lovely . . .~
"You need rest, dearest LW. Drink lots of fluids, keep using your heating pad-" He eyed the giant cat, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Both of them, take your pain meds and think happy, positive, harmonious thoughts of beautiful, wonderful things."
LW smiled into his eyes. "I already am."
"Good . . ." He said, squeezing her hand and unfolding his long, lean body to stand up and smile down at her.
"I've got to go now . . ."
LW gave him a beseeching look.
"Don't be a stranger, Dr. Track. Come and visit with the other lads sometimes, why don't you?"
He tilted his dark head and crinkled his brow. "Won't it get a bit crowded?"
LW shrugged. "There's always room for one more Character in my house, dearest Dr. Track."
~In my house and in my heart~
As she tugged her mask back into place and fell back onto the pillows, LW heaved a happy sigh.
Her jaw and ear were wonky, but her heart was merry. And a merry heart does one good like medicine.
Kind of like a TDHBEW.
YOU ARE READING
Sloth Fiction
FanficInspired by a comment made on Servetus' excellent blog Me + Richard Armitage, this is a series of humorous stories based around the premise of "What if RA's characters hung around my house, eating my junk food, watching the telly, sparring, and in g...