For 100_situations table; 91 - Hospital
[Author's note: pure and total crack!fic, not meant to force any storylines one way or another. A prequel is in the works, to answer all your burning questions about just how our heroes got to this point.]
Word Count: 610
Expectations
The doctor (not to be confused with The Doctor, eight versions of whom were crowded into the small hospital room, staring expectantly at the door) wandered into the room. “Well, Mrs. McShane, I just thought I'd come in and -” She caught sight of the patient, double checked her chart, and then sighed. “Mr. McShane, sorry. The nurse got the title wrong.”
Ted shrugged. “S'alrigh', I thought I was Mrs. McShane at first too, 'til Ace told me th'bloke's always mister.”
“Right,” the doctor was used to a lot of different sorts of patients, so she had an amazing capacity for ignoring eccentricities. She glanced around the room and noted all the people, at least a dozen, standing close together, clearly trying very hard not to fight with each other over who got to be closest to the bed. Two sets of twins, even. Fascinating! She stroked her whiskers thoughtfully and turned back to her patient. “Well, I'm Doctor Smith,” everyone in the room chuckled, much to the doctor's confusion. Ah well, more eccentricities. “I'll be taking things from here. Which one of you is Mrs. McShane?”
Ace held her hand up. Doctor Smith noted that she had the look of a person about to jump off a cliff into a great vat of cotton candy. Worried and excited. It was a look Doctor Smith was very familiar with. “Alright, Mrs. McShane, everything's running normally, your husband's the picture of good health, and -”
A skinny man, with lots of tattoos leaned forward, “There's no need to worry, love,” he said, his best charming smile on his face, “he's always the picture of good health.”
“I'll be the judge of that, Mr...”
The man held out his hand. “Chuck! Cheers, Doctor Smith.” He winked once and then settled back into the crowd.
It occurred to Doctor Smith for the first time that it was quite a feat that all of these people had managed to shove into such a small room. She glanced around, again stroking her whiskers. “It's almost as if it's bigger -”
“On the inside,” one of the sets of twins cut her off, the one with the pony tail. “We get that a lot. I think you'll find that we're all fairly well versed in physics. So, give your patient a bit of a check up, let us know when everything's set to get started, then off you go.”
The blonde woman on his right squeezed his arm admonishingly and he had the good grace to look sheepish. “Sorry. I'm the Doctor, you see, so I'm not too good at sharing. We all are. Well, not all, just this one,” he pointed to his twin, “and these,” the other sets of twins, “oh, and him and him. And her. And him and - you know, a lot of us are the Doctor, turns out. Fancy that.”
“Professor,” Mrs. McShane glared daggers at the man, and he leaned back, looking sheepish. “This is about Ted and me, yeah? You can talk plenty later.”
Ted, who'd been watching everything with a very happy smile on his face, reached out and took his wife's hand. “Don' worry, love, it'll all be okay. Th'ospital's jus' a formality. Y'know tha'.” He looked up at Doctor Smith. “Family,” was all he said, but Doctor Smith knew people well. She could sense the emotions behind their words, and it was clear that Mr. McShane loved his family, as motley as they might be, very much.
“Well,” the doctor said after a moment, “it seems a lovely family to bring a baby into.”
Ted beamed and patted his overly round stomach (also, oddly, bigger on the inside). “Innit?”
Word Count: 610
Expectations
The doctor (not to be confused with The Doctor, eight versions of whom were crowded into the small hospital room, staring expectantly at the door) wandered into the room. “Well, Mrs. McShane, I just thought I'd come in and -” She caught sight of the patient, double checked her chart, and then sighed. “Mr. McShane, sorry. The nurse got the title wrong.”
Ted shrugged. “S'alrigh', I thought I was Mrs. McShane at first too, 'til Ace told me th'bloke's always mister.”
“Right,” the doctor was used to a lot of different sorts of patients, so she had an amazing capacity for ignoring eccentricities. She glanced around the room and noted all the people, at least a dozen, standing close together, clearly trying very hard not to fight with each other over who got to be closest to the bed. Two sets of twins, even. Fascinating! She stroked her whiskers thoughtfully and turned back to her patient. “Well, I'm Doctor Smith,” everyone in the room chuckled, much to the doctor's confusion. Ah well, more eccentricities. “I'll be taking things from here. Which one of you is Mrs. McShane?”
Ace held her hand up. Doctor Smith noted that she had the look of a person about to jump off a cliff into a great vat of cotton candy. Worried and excited. It was a look Doctor Smith was very familiar with. “Alright, Mrs. McShane, everything's running normally, your husband's the picture of good health, and -”
A skinny man, with lots of tattoos leaned forward, “There's no need to worry, love,” he said, his best charming smile on his face, “he's always the picture of good health.”
“I'll be the judge of that, Mr...”
The man held out his hand. “Chuck! Cheers, Doctor Smith.” He winked once and then settled back into the crowd.
It occurred to Doctor Smith for the first time that it was quite a feat that all of these people had managed to shove into such a small room. She glanced around, again stroking her whiskers. “It's almost as if it's bigger -”
“On the inside,” one of the sets of twins cut her off, the one with the pony tail. “We get that a lot. I think you'll find that we're all fairly well versed in physics. So, give your patient a bit of a check up, let us know when everything's set to get started, then off you go.”
The blonde woman on his right squeezed his arm admonishingly and he had the good grace to look sheepish. “Sorry. I'm the Doctor, you see, so I'm not too good at sharing. We all are. Well, not all, just this one,” he pointed to his twin, “and these,” the other sets of twins, “oh, and him and him. And her. And him and - you know, a lot of us are the Doctor, turns out. Fancy that.”
“Professor,” Mrs. McShane glared daggers at the man, and he leaned back, looking sheepish. “This is about Ted and me, yeah? You can talk plenty later.”
Ted, who'd been watching everything with a very happy smile on his face, reached out and took his wife's hand. “Don' worry, love, it'll all be okay. Th'ospital's jus' a formality. Y'know tha'.” He looked up at Doctor Smith. “Family,” was all he said, but Doctor Smith knew people well. She could sense the emotions behind their words, and it was clear that Mr. McShane loved his family, as motley as they might be, very much.
“Well,” the doctor said after a moment, “it seems a lovely family to bring a baby into.”
Ted beamed and patted his overly round stomach (also, oddly, bigger on the inside). “Innit?”