mundane entanglements.

[theorized]

If there's one way in which Chase knows he differs from House, it's the enjoyment he gets from spending time in the clinic. No sound diagnostician would pick a day in exam rooms over an interesting case, but the mere preference doesn't preclude the calm Chase feels whenever he's down here, offering people with treatment that's tried and true, with next to no potential for grievous error. Darrow's been calm in the days since House's arrival, so he doesn't mind the escape that the case files offer him as he picks up the next in the stack, walking to the waiting room.

He could wait for a nursing assistant to send the patient to the room, but the hospital feels a tad understaffed today, and Chase doesn't mind the extra few minutes.

"Is there a Ms. Emma Swan here?" he asks, peering down at the file, then up again to the line of seated patients.

One face catches his eye. He feels his face drain slightly of color.

But she wouldn't be there in a waiting room. She wouldn't give up the opportunity to work. She wouldn't... Chase doesn't have the right to speak for her, but he just knows that she wouldn't.

Comments

[notinanybook]

Emma's not graceful on her best days, but tonight really takes the cake. She'd been in the middle of making dinner for herself, slicing up some vegetables with a knife - and then, lost in thought, the knife had slipped to cut across her palm. One look at the blood welling up in her hand and she knew it was too deep to merit a simple Band-Aid - so here she is, a dish towel pressed against her palm as she sits in the waiting room with a few other people. Her case doesn't seem so serious in comparison to some of the others, but the longer she waits, the more the throbbing in her hand starts to build and the more she wishes she could just get in there and get stitched up. She's already picturing the glass of wine she'll treat herself to when she gets back to her apartment.

She glances up at the sound of her own name on the voice of someone with an accent - subtle, but still easy to recognize - and rises, still holding her injured hand with the other, her thumb lightly pressing in on the towel to keep it tight against her palm.

"Right here," she says, making her way down the row of chairs to approach the doctor waiting. She stops in front of him, tilting her head up to regard him with a curious expression. He looks a little - stunned at the sight of her.