Jan 23, 2006 09:40
It was one of those mornings, where he woke up, edgy and restless probably as a result of the nightmare from the previous evening. Whatever the cause, Wilson hit the floor already wound up and going at 150%.
Dressed in his old worn jeans, a red t-shirt with a flannel shirt overtop he swung into the Clinic, carrying a cup of coffee from the perk and a bag of supplies he’d picked up from the Town Clinic when he’d stopped in to flip the ‘On Call’ light on. Dropping a set of CDs into the player, ranging from Afro Celt Sound Systems to NINs, he stripped down to just the t-shirt and jeans, before going to the supply cabinet and digging out the small box of tools they kept there.
In short order the celtic tones with deep drum bass line of the ACSS was thumping through the Clinic, mixing with the sounds of a ratchet and the sloshing of water and cleaning chemicals.
Yep it was that time again a full tear up the exam rooms and strip clean them to within an inch of their lives. Feel free to interrupt him; you might just have to shout over the music to get his attention.
Doctor on duty…just follow the sound singing.
blair sandburg,
james wilson,
alanna trebond,
gregory house,
susan pevensie,
death,
cleaning