noteasytobepink | Ah, those phonecalls ~ AU Bill/Clarice

Ah, those phonecalls ~ AU Bill/Clarice

It had been a few days since his new patient appeared. Appeared being the operative term since Bill and the girl both had filled him in. On one hand, he was an old man and he didn't like the world getting set on it's ear so much. On the other, well, he'd always believed there was more out there, enjoyed X-files shamelessly when it was airing, and felt that Clarice was an excellent opportunity to observe alternate biology pathways.

Plus she was a cheerful, if bad patient.

It was the second part that had him on the phone to Bill.

Well, Bill's answering machine. "Bill, it's Dr. Mitchell. I nearly have all the proper paperwork done boy, and certainly not too soon. She's one of those type you know? Needs to be doing something. I nearly had to tie her arm to her side to keep her form doing arm exercises. As if she'd lose muscle mass that quickly! And the room, don't get me started on her cleaning, and moving, and sneaking off to read to the kids in pediatrics..." No, don't get him started.

"....who think she's a fairy by the way. I guess this is a roundabout way of asking if you've found anyone with a hunting cabin she can hole up in yet."

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"Good, see that you do. Else I might have to call her just to check on her mental health and all." That effectively put a time limit on things so Bill didn't keep 'putting it off' until he wasn't busy! Sneaky doctor?

"Your mama wasn't someone you might find a bit distracting, Bill." Deadpan.

Bill's smirk vanished when the doctor called him on talking to Starla, and Bill knew he'd have to get that done soon.

"Distracting?" Bill arched a brow, not getting the doctor.

"As long as she ain't in the way when I'm gettin' ready in the mornin', or leavin' those creepy little portal things around the place, we outta be good."

"...Bill, sometimes it's amazing you're single. Then you say things like that and it suddenly makes sense." The man snorted and waved at hand at the clueless sheriff. "Go invite her then by all means, and if you find her lifting anything with that arm yell at her for me."

"What?"

Bill felt slightly wounded, but decided it wasn't something he wanted to pursue.

Standing up, he tucked the file under his arm.

"How long 'til she's out of here?" Because Bill knew she was going to ask. She always asked.

"As soon as someone takes her in. She's as fit as a girl with busted ribs and a stitched shoulder can be. All I can really insist on here is that she eats more and checks in with me, and me personally, every few days. Tell her if those stitches get popped or infected she is getting tied to bed here for weeks though."

Bill nodded.

"I'll see what I can do 'bout her eatin', an' I'll tell her the rest."

Leaving Mitchell's office, Bill turned down the hall and went searching for Clarice.

"See that you do," he called amiably through the doorway as he left.

Clarice was...in her room actually. In her room, behind the bed, apparently doing situps because she was bored? She had her bad arm tied to her chest though, she was being careful, honest! She was also still wearing hospital gowns because, well, they were free? "Hey Bill..." she noted when next her head popped up past the level of the bed. "Check in time already?" Yep, the attempt NOT to sound like she was bored out of her skull and distracted enough to not watch the time crawl by...failed. Utterly.

He didn't see her at first, but when she spoke and he saw what she was doing he nearly jumped into the room.

"What're you doin'?"

Setting the file he was carrying down on a tray, he rounded the bed, holding his hand up in a stopping motion.

"You're gonna hurt yourself or somethin'."

"Fuss fuss fuss..." She grumbled quietly. "I'm not doing curls, my ribs aren't getting crushed, I'm JUST working my stomach muscles!" Grumble grumble grumble. What else was she suppose to do really? She wasn't allowed to touch patient files, which meant she'd gotten in trouble for trying to help with clerical work. The kids in pediatrics were napping, the older patients thought she was weird, she got in trouble if she picked up a broom...

"Relax!"

"Yeah, well, the stomach bone's connected to the shoulder bone an' all of that, so could you get up?"

He offered her his hand, hoping she'd stop and take it.

"An' Mitchell said if you tore any stitches or anything he was gonna tie you to the bed. An' probably end up yellin' at me."

"Stomach is an organ, Bill. It doesn't have bones." Just so he knew and all. She did relent and take his hand with her good one though. "Oh, kinky doctor." Yep, trying to drag the conversation away from serious!

Bill made a face.

"I really didn't need that image."

Helping her up, he took a step back and retrieved the file.

"So, I got some good news for you. Doc says as soon as you got a place t'stay you're outta here."

"Don't you believe that the elderly still need their fun?" She asked innocently. What? It was fun to make him blush!

Her eyes went to the file though, her smile fading into a thoughtful, and worried, look. "I'm sensing a hook here. I can go, if I have a place? What's the catch?"

Bill made another face, this one tinged with a bit of warmth, and sidled right around her question.

"Well, I guess the catch would be, the only place I could really find t'put you would be uh, mine."

Hastily he added, because that probably sounded really weird, "I got a spare room I thought you could have, 'til you're on your feet an' all."

Blink.

Blink blink.

"What's rent?"

"Well, nothin' t'start, 'til you get settled. Then we can figure somethin' out."

Remembering what Mitchell said, Bill tried to head that problem off right away.

"It's just an' old empty room, so ain't no hardship for me t'give it up. An', if you do end up workin' at the station you'd be a big help t'me there. We been short handed for awhile now, so I'd appreciate that."

She looked down at the floor for a moment, worried her lip with her teeth as she thought things through, then sighed. "When can I start? I want to put things in writing. I don't like owing and staying free and hidden away is..." something she wasn't comfortable with.

"What do you need done at the station?" Seemed she didn't have any major objections to staying at his house? He was a good person and unlikely to need stabbing in the night?

"In writing, really?"

He thought she hated paperwork.

"Look, I know you been bored t'tears here, but I think you should take it easy for a bit. I understand not wantin' t'owe anyone anything and all, but I promise you're fine."

He was sure she wouldn't be letting this go, but he can't not try and convince her to.

"We can work out the details if you like, but I'm not givin' you anything too strenuous to start. We've got a lot of filin' an' desk work at the station, which I know sounds just as borin' as this place, but I figure it'll help you familiarize yourself with things and all until we can get you something else to do."

"Filing. I WILL DO FILING. Just let me do...something. It's one thing if you have a week, and there's a beach and you haven't been sleeping but..." But she was used to doing things. All the time.

"And yes, writing. Then it's harder for you to hem and haw and say something about small town hospitality, Sheriff." Was he getting a smile? He was getting a smile.

"I don't hem an' haw," he said, indignant because it was true.

"We'll get you filin' then, an' if you can count you can help me with supply inventory, too."

And yeah, that might be a small smile from him, as well, because he could take jabs, too.

He was more than welcome to jab back. She was all about a give and take relationship!

"No, but when it gets to the point where I'm a few weeks into living with you that southern hospitality might kick in and you'll dodge around the concept of actually getting paid..." And hey, it was fun to say it? "SO we sit down and hash out a contract for me renting from you. And yes, I can count. I'm very good at inventory. If your building is smaller than a warehouse it should take me...a day or so. Possibly too if you have things squirreled in odd places."

"Fine then, you write it up an' I'll sign it. It'll give you somethin' t'do." And save him the hassle of more paperwork, and the trouble of trying to figure out what's fair.

"That somethin' you wanna do right this second? Or would you rather get out of here an' put it together after you've seen my place?"

He was all for putting it off, and hoped her eagerness to get out of the hospital would help that.

"If you have just me write it you'll have to just accept what I place as a monetary value on your space," she noted, cheerfully. "And then you're doomed. So dooooomed." Doom doom doom.

"Let's go. Let's go now. What do I have to sign? Can we run? LET"S RUN!" Before they got caught and her doctor changed his mind!

"No, I still gotta sign it, an' I'll be changing what I don't like."

Bill wasn't that easy or dumb.

"Woah, take it easy." He held up his hand, smiling in surprise at her enthusiasm. "Just gimme a minute. I wasn't sure if you'd be agreeable to this whole thing, so let me get organized here.

"I'll go find someone about whatever papers y'need for release, an' I got some stuff in the truck for you. In uh, in case you didn't know it, hospital gowns lose their fashionability when you leave."

She snapped her fingers "Well, there goes the overwhelm his common sense with enthusiasm and charm." She grinned, knowing he'd read the damn contract but hey, it was fun to tease anyway?

"And why wouldn't I be agreeable? I know you better than anyone else here really. If it's not safe to stay with you, well, then I'd be worried about what that said about your world." Hospital gown...oh, right. She'd been wearing them day in and day out enough to almost forget she was in one. "Right. You're very thoughtful!"

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