I don’t have a title for it yet and this is only a short thing I just came up with (because it’s late and I’m tired) but here’s something from the Fabrastings/Clexa Doctors AU I posted about before:
“So, did you ask her yet?” Spencer asked without looking up from the research paper she was flipping through.
Clarke was practising her figure 8 stitch on an unfortunate banana and honestly had no idea what she was talking about. “Asked who what yet?”
Spencer’s gaze was still stuck on the paper, although Clarke couldn’t imagine it was anything particularly riveting, it was only from a pile of pilot studies from the ‘90s that Doctors conducted with a drug that may have potential viability with the patient they were currently trying to help. But come on, the ‘90s. Still, Spencer didn’t bother looking up as she said, “That hot PEDS doctor from the fourth floor whose ass you can’t help staring at – not subtly I might add – every time she walks past.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Clarke knew exactly what she was talking about.
Spencer paused flipping through her paper to look up with a faux air of trying to recall something. “What was her name again?” Spencer asked Quinn, tapping her chin to add effect. She knew exactly what the name was. “Trisha? Lissa?”
“I think it was Laura,” Quinn added, playing Spencer’s game entirely.
“Lexa, her name’s Lexa,” Clarke corrected them.
Spencer still played the innocent game, acting surprised to hear she was wrong. “Oh! Lexa, of course!” She turned back to her paper but didn’t waste long adding, “So have you asked her out yet?”
Clarke dropped her suture tools in frustration. “No I have not!”
“Cough it up Fabray,” Spencer told the blonde sitting next to her, eyes still on the paper and holding her hand out expectantly.
Quinn rolled her eyes and sighed as she pulled a twenty out of her pocket and put it into Spencer’s outreached hand. “Oh well,” Quinn said, moving to whisper into Spencer’s ear. “I’ll get it back from you later in the on-call room in other ways.”
“Urgh,” Clarke groaned in disgust, it had not been a whisper and she suspected that Spencer and Quinn said these things around her purposefully, simply to gross her out. “Get a room already.”
“Like the on-call room?” Spencer suggested with a smirk which was returned from Quinn. Along with a hand running up her thigh in plain sight of Clarke.
“That’s it, I’m done!” Clarke exclaimed, pulling her gloves off and knocking the banana, still with its open wound, into the bin. “You sex crazed maniacs can just go at it in here because apparently you can’t keep your hands off each other long enough to actually do some work in here.” Without waiting for a reply Clarke stormed out the door.
Spencer and Quinn merely high-fived, returning to the respective papers they were reading.
(so what do you think? is it worth continuing? title suggestions? and story suggestions?)
