Ah, those phonecalls ~ AU Bill/Clarice

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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."

Comments

[no_andy_taylor.insanejournal.com]

Bill accepted the folder and rifled through it. His hands stilled on the doc's questions.

"I ain't heard from Starla in awhile. No reason she should mind."

Closing the file, Bill cleared his throat to push down an ache, and shook his head.

"Wanted t'see what you thought about it first, an' if you thought it'd be any good for her. I ain't lettin' her live out in the woods, though. That's just stupid an' crazy."

Not when he or someone else could put her up. Especially with winter on the way, and who the hell lives out in the woods, anyways? Moonshiners and hill folk, both of which are usually crazy and trouble.

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The folder had an older seeming birth certificate for one Clarice Creed, and no he wasn't going to answer questions about how he'd aged it thank you. IT also had a social security card, immunization records (only the date was changed on those, as it looked fishy for her to have gotten them ALL yesterday), and some random bits of made up medical history, including the unfortunate dye incident while on an immuno-supression drug that resulted in generally...perma-pink. Bets he could come up with really. All her early attending doctors on the file had been those lost to the slugs earlier.

Yes, oddly skilled old man.

"Starla might, you know. You're her touchstone while she's working out Hollywood last I heard and word got back to me a while back that you were worried she might be pregnant with her temper. Shame on you for that risk by the way, may be why she hasn't called?" He was a doctor, yes, but also a meddler who'd seen the whole years worth of crush going on. "And you know Clarice will probably accept your offer, but you NEED To come up with some way for her to pay for it else she'll be cooking and cleaning and generally never, ever resting like an idiot. Cops, soldiers, and apparently vigilantes make TERRIBLE patients."

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"That's not-- she ain't-- small town gossip," he finally finished after a flustered stammering.

"She's just been busy. Hollywood's a lot of work. An' I ain't always the easiest to get a hold of when I'm workin' here, so... "

He shrugged; he was used to making excuses for Starla, from the reasons she married Grant, to the reasons she left after the slugs.

"I'll put Clarice t'work soon as she's healthy enough for it. There's plenty to be done at the department without a badge, or I could even get her set up at the courthouse or somethin'."

Fixing the doctor with a look, Bill shook his head.

"I ain't lookin' to take advantage of no one here, doc. I'm just tryin' to help her out. It'd just be temporary anyways, 'til she can afford somethin' on her own. An' hell, I ain't home more'n half the time anyways, so it ain't like there's much cookin' or cleanin' she can do in an empty house."

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"Busy, I see." He snorted. "You may still want to call and tell her before the gossips get ahold of the fact she's moving in with you." Even if temporarily. Bill was a good man, but he was also a bit of a confirmed Bachelor, a hopeless romantic, and someone elses' property as far as the town was concerned.

"I know you aren't the sort to take advantage, but I also think you aren't the sort to fully understand what living with a woman is like." Take it from a man who was married for forty five years and widowed only a few years back. At least she hadn't got taken by slugs. "She'll be driving you nuts by the end of a week, even if you have her doing work somewhere else. Just adjusting to another person is hard and it isn't something you've had to do before."

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"I'll give her a call," Bill relented. He really didn't want this getting twisted around before it reached Starla's ear.

He quirked half a smirk at the doctor.

"I think you're forgettin' that I was raised by my mama."

To Bill's mind, that was experience enough in living with a woman.

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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.

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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."

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"...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."

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"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.

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"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."

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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.

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"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.

[no_andy_taylor.insanejournal.com]

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'."

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"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!"

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"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."

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"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!

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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."

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"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?"

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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."

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Blink.

Blink blink.

"What's rent?"

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"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."

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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?

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"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."

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"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.

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"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.