One minute this dashing young man is talking to Nyo- ahem, Uhura in the elevator to the cockpit of his starship and the next minute he’s walking through the doors into another room. Where’s the crew? Spock, Uhura, and son-of-a-bitch! Where is his chair? A speedy glance over the place tells him it’s a hotel lobby, and the sun of what appears to be ( Read more... )

Life is surprisingly... great. When was the last time that his life was great? It's hard to remember, through Tritter and divorces and just generally being House's friend/punching bag, but he can really, finally, officially say that things are great. He's dating a girl he loves, and she loves him, and even if she has some House tendencies -- so ( Read more... )

It was a busy night at the restaurant, but whatever -- more bucks to bring home, right? "Home" is an interesting concept these days, shacked up with Kevin, his not-boyfriend-turned-possible-maybe-boyfriend, though where that left Jason, Kevin's missionary-boyfriend-turned-possible-ex-missionary-boyfriend Scotty isn't sure of. He should feel a ( Read more... )

"Nothing to see here, folks, just another geek villain, getting what he deserves," he says, a broad grin on his ridiculously handsome face.

Then he looks down.

His sparkling grin fades as he realizes there's nothing in his hand. Nothing, where just a few seconds ago there was the parka hood of a squirming Johnny Snow.

"Huh. That's weird."

Typist: ( Read more... )

Enter the billionaire playboy, presumably returning to his penthouse after a night of debauchery. Look, there's even lipstick on his collar, his shirt's -- well, halfway tucked in, rather ruffled. He's in too much of a good mood to pay attention to his surroundings -- that is, until he steps into the lobby of the hotel and blinks, automatically ( Read more... )

Geoffrey had not slept well last night. The couch in the storage room wasn't exactly built for comfort though, was it? No, it was built to look pretty for actors to sit on onstage and say lines, not to sleep on. As a reflex, he grabbed Oliver, who'd become a sort of a makeshift stress ball for him. He stretched and groaned, shoving a hand through ( Read more... )

If anyone had missed House that day -- which few probably did -- it was because he was outside. Jogging. For the first time since he'd gotten shot, he was jogging. He ran an hour out and back, then dove into the sea -- or ocean, or lake, whatever it was -- and went for a swim. It was only for a week, and he had to suck up to the demon child for ( Read more... )

House put up a sign in the lobby that read as follows:

DUCKLINGS:
New case, stand by for a short meeting.
-- Da Boss

House himself is sitting nearby, flipping through a German-English dictionary.

Typist: Open to The Ducklings, Wilson, Cuddy, Rose, and Jackie, mostly.

Lucy wakes from the nightmare with a startled scream, sitting up in bed, breathing hard.  She looks around to reassure herself she is indeed back safe and sound in her hotel room, breathing a sigh of relief.

Except that her arms still hurt.  A LOT.  Looking down, she gives a sharp yelp when she realizes why.  Deep bloody gashes along her forearms ( Read more... )

It had been a full day -- well, 24 hours and 11 minutes, not that House was counting. A full day (and a bit) since all of House's Vicodin had turned to PEZ. Not that PEZ weren't yummy and delicious, but they sure as hell weren't Vicodin ( Read more... )