Fic: All In a Day's Work (Cuddy, crack)
Title: All In A Day's Work
Fandom: House, M.D
Genre: Crack!fic. With zombies.
Character: Cuddy, ensemble
Words: 2253
Summary: There are zombies in Cuddy's hospital.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Playing.
A/N: I don't know where this came from. Not beta'd; all the insanity is mine. Much plagiarism has been committed from the trusty Uncyclopedia guie to survive a zombie outbreak. For the housefic50 prompt 047: Death.
*
First there was a frantic phone call from Security. It was aggravating, to say the least; it was a busy morning and Cuddy did not approve of frantic phone calls on busy mornings.
Then there was a frantic phone call from ER. And another one, this time from the morgue.
Enough was enough. Cuddy picked up the phone and dialled a familiar number, 'Brenda?'
'Yes, Dr. Cuddy?'
'Are there zombies in my hospital?'
'Afraid so, Dr. Cuddy.'
She put down the phone, and sighed. She had heard the rumours, of course. Deleted as many as fifteen 'ZOMBIES TAKING OVER THE WORLD!!1!' chain-mails from her mailbox this very morning.
She called Security. 'Bar all entrances.'
'We already did. They're, um, very persistent, Dr. Cuddy.' Her Security In-Charge sounded a little strangled. There was a loud yelp in the background.
'You have weapons. Use them.'
'Yes, I mean, we're doing our best, we assure you - '
She could hear something being smashed. Glass, in all probability. 'I don't want you to do your best, Higgins. I want you to do your job,' Cuddy said, firmly, and hung up on him.
Some people had zero work ethic. Made her wonder why she hired them in the first place.
A thought struck, suddenly. She called Security again. 'Do you have a car?'
'Ma'am?'
There was a loud crash in the background. 'Answer my question. Do you have a car?'
'I do, but - '
'Good. Use it. Go outside, and run them over. Get your people to do the same.'
'But Dr. Cuddy - '
'Which part of 'do your job' did you not understand, Higgins? If you can't do as I say, consider yourself fired,' she said, and hung up.
She kicked off her heels, and put on the pair of sensible shoes she kept around in her office. Sighed again.
There went her day.
*
The whiteboard read, 'MASSIVE ZOMBIE TAKEOVER,' in House's familiar scrawl.
'Differential diagnosis, people,' House announced, swishing his cane in air, looking entirely too pleased with himself. 'How do we kill something that's evil, dead, and currently trying to take over the world?' He was clearly enjoying this brilliant opportunity to avoid doing some actual work. Wilson, who was seated on House's lounge chair, looked calm if a little rumpled; Cuddy wondered briefly if it had something to do with being accosted by a terrified female colleague or three. Chase and Cameron were holding hands. Foreman, on the other hand, looked merely annoyed - a sentiment she could certainly sympathize with.
'Shotguns,' Chase said, eagerly. 'Or chainsaws!'
Cuddy rolled her eyes. 'And where do you suggest we get one?'
'Needles. Surgeon's knives. Not good enough,' Foreman said, shaking his head.
'Blunt weapons?' Cameron suggested.
'Blunt weapons!' House said, scribbling 'BLUNT WEAPONS' on the whiteboard. 'IV poles, walking sticks, janitor's brooms - grab whatever's handy and hit 'em on the head. And stop eyeing my trusty cane, you can't have him.'
'FIRE EXTINGUISHERS' was added to the list, as was 'RUN LIKE HELL (UNLESS YOU'RE A CRIPPLE, THEN YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN)', and 'TRIP THEM. THEY'RE DUMB.'
There was another frantic phone call. 'Could we speed this up a bit?' Cuddy said. 'There are people being eaten by zombies out there.'
'Those people are idiots,' House said. 'What's Rule #1 of How to Survive a Massive Zombie Takeover?'
Cuddy stared.
'Stay away from idiots,' House said, rolling his eyes. 'Or really annoying people. They're the ones who get eaten first.'
'Brains,' Wilson said.
Everyone stared.
'What? Zombies like brains,' Wilson said. And because everyone was still staring, he continued, 'This is a hospital, which means we have brain samples. Zombies like brains. We move in groups, because it's safer that way. In case of zombie hordes, one person throws a brain at them. That way they get distracted. And when they're distracted, we hit them on the head with a blunt weapon. Or fire extinguishers, whichever you prefer.' There were a lot of hand gestures.
'That makes… a lot of sense, actually,' Foreman said, slowly.
'BRAINS' was added to the list.
'Right, so we are ready to go,' Cuddy said, taking a deep breath. 'We'll split up, go in different directions. House, stay with me. Any stupid stunt and you're fired.' It was the only way she could keep an eye on him.
Wilson gave her a hopeful smile.
And because Cuddy did not trust House and Wilson together even in the face of a zombie takeover - especially in the face of a zombie takeover - she said, 'Chase comes with me. Wilson, you take Foreman and Cameron and go in the opposite direction.' His face fell a little at that. Cuddy steeled herself. Now was not the time to be swayed by puppy dog eyes.
She dialled another familiar number on her phone. 'This is an announcement, could you make you sure I'm heard everywhere?' And, with the operator's assurance, continued,
'Everyone - this is an emergency announcement. As you know, we're in the middle of a massive zombie invasion in the hospital. Do not panic. Use your common sense. Do not try to be altruistic if someone you know has been turned into a zombie. And for god's sake, do not feed them, it will only serve to encourage them!'
She took a moment to catch her breath.
'Very moving speech. Can we go now?' House said.
Outside his office, somebody screamed.
*
There were corpses on the corridors. And inside the elevators. If it had been a massive vampire takeover, Cuddy mused, there wouldn't have been even half the mess; nothing her janitors couldn't handle. Now there would be paperwork, and a thousand calls to CDC before they graced the hospital with their presence.
She really hated zombies.
Having House along slowed them down considerably, but the cane had its advantages.
'And that was number ten,' House declared, after having successfully decked another approaching zombie, smug little smirk on his face. 'I rock.'
Her own janitor's mop wasn't doing so badly, either. She hit one, square on the face. It groaned, and collapsed with a satisfying thud on the floor. 'Eight,' she announced, grinning.
Chase looked glum. He was still at five.
There was a considerable crowd in front of the Clinic. Cuddy moved a little faster, until she spotted Brenda and a couple of other nurses, and realised what was going on.
'It's a horde!' Chase exclaimed.
Brenda had a fire extinguisher in hand. The other nurses had brooms. They were putting up a valiant effort, as far as Cuddy could tell, but they were clearly fighting a losing battle because there were so many.
Well, not if they could help it.
'Pitching time,' House announced, striding forward.
'No, let me,' Chase said, and neatly lobbed a brain amid the zombie horde. And another one.
'You have good aim,' Cuddy observed, as the zombies abandoned her nurses and attempted to pounce upon the bait.
'I used to play cricket,' Chase shrugged.
The zombies were now fighting amongst themselves. It was rather entertaining to watch. But then, they had work to do, a hospital to save, Cuddy thought, ruefully, as she joined the others in finishing off the zombies.
'You have to go to the morgue,' Brenda said, when she could speak again. 'They've been calling for help. Says there are too many.'
'ER - '
'Is under control. We'll take care of what's left on this floor. They need you at the morgue.'
'We'll head for the morgue, then,' Cuddy said. 'Keep up the good work.'
'Seventeen!' Chase announced, triumphant.
House made a face. He was such a sore loser.
*
On their way to the morgue they passed by the Geriatrics Ward, where the residents had done a truly remarkable job of building a barricade, using wheelchairs, pushcarts and other hospital property. Later, she would run an inventory, but right now she stood and admired the beauty of it.
'Halt,' said an elderly gentleman in a wheelchair from behind the barricade. 'Dead or alive?'
'Alive,' she said. 'Is everything okay in here? Do you need any help?'
'We're fine, young lady,' another voice piped in. 'They're not getting past this thing.'
Inside, she could hear people singing. They were doing fine.
'Watch out!' said the man in the wheelchair, and they all whirled around. A horde of zombies were approaching them. Leading the horde was Dr. Ayersman, one of her, well, one of her not-so-illustrious surgeons.
Beside her, House was grinning. 'Oh, this is too good to be true.'
'Just because you don't like him doesn't mean - '
'Chaaarge!' House said, swinging his cane to hit Ayersman on his - its? - face. 'I've always wanted to do that.'
'Nice shot,' said a voice from behind the barricade.
They had, she noted distractedly, taken up strategic positions behind the barricade. Then they started throwing water-balloons.
Cuddy watched, incredulous, as the zombies began to groan and fall as the water-balloons hit them.
'Holy Water!' Chase said. 'Where'd you get the balloons?'
'It's Alice's birthday,' said the man in the wheelchair, pointing to a little old lady with a walking stick and a couple of balloons in her hand.
'Oh. Happy Birthday,' Chase said. Alice waved at them.
Cuddy shook her head, and concentrated on hitting the nearest zombie with her mop.
That was when she spotted the little girl. It looked - she looked -
Her heart gave a queer little lurch. 'It's a little girl! Chase, House, do you see that little girl?'
'What little girl?' Chase sounded preoccupied. Granted, he had two zombies at hand, but Cuddy was irritated nonetheless.
'There, at the back!'
The zombie horde had grown considerably thinner, and the girl was clearly visible now. She was human. She looked human, Cuddy told herself. She must've lost her way.
Which meant they had to save her.
'What do you think you're doing?' House said.
'House, she's alive. We have to save her.'
'No it isn't. We have to kill it.'
The girl was moving closer now, her face downcast. Cuddy started to move towards her.
'Stop thinking with your ovaries,' House yelled, finishing off the last zombie with flourish. He took hold of her right arm.
'House, I'm not - '
A water-balloon hit the girl on the face.
'ARRGH,' she - the zombie - groaned. Took a couple of steps forward; groaned again. House was gripping her arm, tightly.
And then it fell.
'Let's get to the morgue,' Cuddy said, solemnly.
*
The morgue was infested with zombies.
They didn't even have to go inside the morgue - the area around it was overflowing with zombies.
'This looks bad,' Chase muttered as they jumped into the fray alongside the few remaining humans, and Cuddy had to agree.
Her arms were aching. Beside her, House was still going on; Cuddy resisted the temptation to ask him how he was doing. They were too old for this.
Not that she was giving up. Not without a proper fight, she thought, bringing her mop down on a zombie's head.
Chase had tried his brain trick a couple more times, and was now asking around for spares. 'We're out of brains,' Cuddy told him, as she hit another one.
There were too many of them. Too many zombies, not enough able-bodied humans.
'Wow,' she heard Chase say. 'Look at that.'
'What is it?' she asked. She didn't have time to look at things right now.
'It's Wilson!'
God. Was he -
Now she had to look.
It was a horde, in a manner of speaking. Leading the horde was her Head of Oncology, broom in hand, and very much alive, as far as she could tell; the slightly manic look on his face was a definite clue. Behind him were Foreman and Cameron, somewhat worse for the wear but still alive, and that was a good thing. And behind them, what looked like every female nurse in the hospital, brandishing weaponry of their own.
'Wow,' Chase said again. That about summed it up.
*
She ran into House on her way out.
Outside, her employees were having a post-zombie invasion party, and she had received several invitations, but she was in no mood to accept. They had done their best to drag most of the zombie corpses outside, into the parking lot, but there were still plenty littered about here and there; the CDC would have to take care of that one. Tomorrow, she would have to run inventories and hire new people; right now, she was going home.
'Where's Wilson?' she asked. She still hadn't thanked him for saving the day.
'Hiding in Exam Room One. Women keep asking his help for repopulation. I'm supposed to meet him there. Unless, of course, you're in the mood for some repopulation, in which case…,' House trailed off with a suggestive smirk.
'I'll keep that in mind the next time we have a zombie invasion,' she said, patting him on the arm. 'Good night, House.'
There was a zombie corpse lying beside her car. She stepped around it and got inside; started the ignition.
There were post-zombie invasion victory bonfires everywhere on the streets; people were dragging zombie body parts and putting them in the fire. There was a lot of drinking and cheering going on. Also a lot of repopulating, she noted with amusement as the couple kissing in the middle of the road hastily broke apart and moved away at the sound of her horn.
Cuddy smiled.
It hadn't been such a bad day, after all.
*
Fandom: House, M.D
Genre: Crack!fic. With zombies.
Character: Cuddy, ensemble
Words: 2253
Summary: There are zombies in Cuddy's hospital.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Playing.
A/N: I don't know where this came from. Not beta'd; all the insanity is mine. Much plagiarism has been committed from the trusty Uncyclopedia guie to survive a zombie outbreak. For the housefic50 prompt 047: Death.
*
First there was a frantic phone call from Security. It was aggravating, to say the least; it was a busy morning and Cuddy did not approve of frantic phone calls on busy mornings.
Then there was a frantic phone call from ER. And another one, this time from the morgue.
Enough was enough. Cuddy picked up the phone and dialled a familiar number, 'Brenda?'
'Yes, Dr. Cuddy?'
'Are there zombies in my hospital?'
'Afraid so, Dr. Cuddy.'
She put down the phone, and sighed. She had heard the rumours, of course. Deleted as many as fifteen 'ZOMBIES TAKING OVER THE WORLD!!1!' chain-mails from her mailbox this very morning.
She called Security. 'Bar all entrances.'
'We already did. They're, um, very persistent, Dr. Cuddy.' Her Security In-Charge sounded a little strangled. There was a loud yelp in the background.
'You have weapons. Use them.'
'Yes, I mean, we're doing our best, we assure you - '
She could hear something being smashed. Glass, in all probability. 'I don't want you to do your best, Higgins. I want you to do your job,' Cuddy said, firmly, and hung up on him.
Some people had zero work ethic. Made her wonder why she hired them in the first place.
A thought struck, suddenly. She called Security again. 'Do you have a car?'
'Ma'am?'
There was a loud crash in the background. 'Answer my question. Do you have a car?'
'I do, but - '
'Good. Use it. Go outside, and run them over. Get your people to do the same.'
'But Dr. Cuddy - '
'Which part of 'do your job' did you not understand, Higgins? If you can't do as I say, consider yourself fired,' she said, and hung up.
She kicked off her heels, and put on the pair of sensible shoes she kept around in her office. Sighed again.
There went her day.
*
The whiteboard read, 'MASSIVE ZOMBIE TAKEOVER,' in House's familiar scrawl.
'Differential diagnosis, people,' House announced, swishing his cane in air, looking entirely too pleased with himself. 'How do we kill something that's evil, dead, and currently trying to take over the world?' He was clearly enjoying this brilliant opportunity to avoid doing some actual work. Wilson, who was seated on House's lounge chair, looked calm if a little rumpled; Cuddy wondered briefly if it had something to do with being accosted by a terrified female colleague or three. Chase and Cameron were holding hands. Foreman, on the other hand, looked merely annoyed - a sentiment she could certainly sympathize with.
'Shotguns,' Chase said, eagerly. 'Or chainsaws!'
Cuddy rolled her eyes. 'And where do you suggest we get one?'
'Needles. Surgeon's knives. Not good enough,' Foreman said, shaking his head.
'Blunt weapons?' Cameron suggested.
'Blunt weapons!' House said, scribbling 'BLUNT WEAPONS' on the whiteboard. 'IV poles, walking sticks, janitor's brooms - grab whatever's handy and hit 'em on the head. And stop eyeing my trusty cane, you can't have him.'
'FIRE EXTINGUISHERS' was added to the list, as was 'RUN LIKE HELL (UNLESS YOU'RE A CRIPPLE, THEN YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN)', and 'TRIP THEM. THEY'RE DUMB.'
There was another frantic phone call. 'Could we speed this up a bit?' Cuddy said. 'There are people being eaten by zombies out there.'
'Those people are idiots,' House said. 'What's Rule #1 of How to Survive a Massive Zombie Takeover?'
Cuddy stared.
'Stay away from idiots,' House said, rolling his eyes. 'Or really annoying people. They're the ones who get eaten first.'
'Brains,' Wilson said.
Everyone stared.
'What? Zombies like brains,' Wilson said. And because everyone was still staring, he continued, 'This is a hospital, which means we have brain samples. Zombies like brains. We move in groups, because it's safer that way. In case of zombie hordes, one person throws a brain at them. That way they get distracted. And when they're distracted, we hit them on the head with a blunt weapon. Or fire extinguishers, whichever you prefer.' There were a lot of hand gestures.
'That makes… a lot of sense, actually,' Foreman said, slowly.
'BRAINS' was added to the list.
'Right, so we are ready to go,' Cuddy said, taking a deep breath. 'We'll split up, go in different directions. House, stay with me. Any stupid stunt and you're fired.' It was the only way she could keep an eye on him.
Wilson gave her a hopeful smile.
And because Cuddy did not trust House and Wilson together even in the face of a zombie takeover - especially in the face of a zombie takeover - she said, 'Chase comes with me. Wilson, you take Foreman and Cameron and go in the opposite direction.' His face fell a little at that. Cuddy steeled herself. Now was not the time to be swayed by puppy dog eyes.
She dialled another familiar number on her phone. 'This is an announcement, could you make you sure I'm heard everywhere?' And, with the operator's assurance, continued,
'Everyone - this is an emergency announcement. As you know, we're in the middle of a massive zombie invasion in the hospital. Do not panic. Use your common sense. Do not try to be altruistic if someone you know has been turned into a zombie. And for god's sake, do not feed them, it will only serve to encourage them!'
She took a moment to catch her breath.
'Very moving speech. Can we go now?' House said.
Outside his office, somebody screamed.
*
There were corpses on the corridors. And inside the elevators. If it had been a massive vampire takeover, Cuddy mused, there wouldn't have been even half the mess; nothing her janitors couldn't handle. Now there would be paperwork, and a thousand calls to CDC before they graced the hospital with their presence.
She really hated zombies.
Having House along slowed them down considerably, but the cane had its advantages.
'And that was number ten,' House declared, after having successfully decked another approaching zombie, smug little smirk on his face. 'I rock.'
Her own janitor's mop wasn't doing so badly, either. She hit one, square on the face. It groaned, and collapsed with a satisfying thud on the floor. 'Eight,' she announced, grinning.
Chase looked glum. He was still at five.
There was a considerable crowd in front of the Clinic. Cuddy moved a little faster, until she spotted Brenda and a couple of other nurses, and realised what was going on.
'It's a horde!' Chase exclaimed.
Brenda had a fire extinguisher in hand. The other nurses had brooms. They were putting up a valiant effort, as far as Cuddy could tell, but they were clearly fighting a losing battle because there were so many.
Well, not if they could help it.
'Pitching time,' House announced, striding forward.
'No, let me,' Chase said, and neatly lobbed a brain amid the zombie horde. And another one.
'You have good aim,' Cuddy observed, as the zombies abandoned her nurses and attempted to pounce upon the bait.
'I used to play cricket,' Chase shrugged.
The zombies were now fighting amongst themselves. It was rather entertaining to watch. But then, they had work to do, a hospital to save, Cuddy thought, ruefully, as she joined the others in finishing off the zombies.
'You have to go to the morgue,' Brenda said, when she could speak again. 'They've been calling for help. Says there are too many.'
'ER - '
'Is under control. We'll take care of what's left on this floor. They need you at the morgue.'
'We'll head for the morgue, then,' Cuddy said. 'Keep up the good work.'
'Seventeen!' Chase announced, triumphant.
House made a face. He was such a sore loser.
*
On their way to the morgue they passed by the Geriatrics Ward, where the residents had done a truly remarkable job of building a barricade, using wheelchairs, pushcarts and other hospital property. Later, she would run an inventory, but right now she stood and admired the beauty of it.
'Halt,' said an elderly gentleman in a wheelchair from behind the barricade. 'Dead or alive?'
'Alive,' she said. 'Is everything okay in here? Do you need any help?'
'We're fine, young lady,' another voice piped in. 'They're not getting past this thing.'
Inside, she could hear people singing. They were doing fine.
'Watch out!' said the man in the wheelchair, and they all whirled around. A horde of zombies were approaching them. Leading the horde was Dr. Ayersman, one of her, well, one of her not-so-illustrious surgeons.
Beside her, House was grinning. 'Oh, this is too good to be true.'
'Just because you don't like him doesn't mean - '
'Chaaarge!' House said, swinging his cane to hit Ayersman on his - its? - face. 'I've always wanted to do that.'
'Nice shot,' said a voice from behind the barricade.
They had, she noted distractedly, taken up strategic positions behind the barricade. Then they started throwing water-balloons.
Cuddy watched, incredulous, as the zombies began to groan and fall as the water-balloons hit them.
'Holy Water!' Chase said. 'Where'd you get the balloons?'
'It's Alice's birthday,' said the man in the wheelchair, pointing to a little old lady with a walking stick and a couple of balloons in her hand.
'Oh. Happy Birthday,' Chase said. Alice waved at them.
Cuddy shook her head, and concentrated on hitting the nearest zombie with her mop.
That was when she spotted the little girl. It looked - she looked -
Her heart gave a queer little lurch. 'It's a little girl! Chase, House, do you see that little girl?'
'What little girl?' Chase sounded preoccupied. Granted, he had two zombies at hand, but Cuddy was irritated nonetheless.
'There, at the back!'
The zombie horde had grown considerably thinner, and the girl was clearly visible now. She was human. She looked human, Cuddy told herself. She must've lost her way.
Which meant they had to save her.
'What do you think you're doing?' House said.
'House, she's alive. We have to save her.'
'No it isn't. We have to kill it.'
The girl was moving closer now, her face downcast. Cuddy started to move towards her.
'Stop thinking with your ovaries,' House yelled, finishing off the last zombie with flourish. He took hold of her right arm.
'House, I'm not - '
A water-balloon hit the girl on the face.
'ARRGH,' she - the zombie - groaned. Took a couple of steps forward; groaned again. House was gripping her arm, tightly.
And then it fell.
'Let's get to the morgue,' Cuddy said, solemnly.
*
The morgue was infested with zombies.
They didn't even have to go inside the morgue - the area around it was overflowing with zombies.
'This looks bad,' Chase muttered as they jumped into the fray alongside the few remaining humans, and Cuddy had to agree.
Her arms were aching. Beside her, House was still going on; Cuddy resisted the temptation to ask him how he was doing. They were too old for this.
Not that she was giving up. Not without a proper fight, she thought, bringing her mop down on a zombie's head.
Chase had tried his brain trick a couple more times, and was now asking around for spares. 'We're out of brains,' Cuddy told him, as she hit another one.
There were too many of them. Too many zombies, not enough able-bodied humans.
'Wow,' she heard Chase say. 'Look at that.'
'What is it?' she asked. She didn't have time to look at things right now.
'It's Wilson!'
God. Was he -
Now she had to look.
It was a horde, in a manner of speaking. Leading the horde was her Head of Oncology, broom in hand, and very much alive, as far as she could tell; the slightly manic look on his face was a definite clue. Behind him were Foreman and Cameron, somewhat worse for the wear but still alive, and that was a good thing. And behind them, what looked like every female nurse in the hospital, brandishing weaponry of their own.
'Wow,' Chase said again. That about summed it up.
*
She ran into House on her way out.
Outside, her employees were having a post-zombie invasion party, and she had received several invitations, but she was in no mood to accept. They had done their best to drag most of the zombie corpses outside, into the parking lot, but there were still plenty littered about here and there; the CDC would have to take care of that one. Tomorrow, she would have to run inventories and hire new people; right now, she was going home.
'Where's Wilson?' she asked. She still hadn't thanked him for saving the day.
'Hiding in Exam Room One. Women keep asking his help for repopulation. I'm supposed to meet him there. Unless, of course, you're in the mood for some repopulation, in which case…,' House trailed off with a suggestive smirk.
'I'll keep that in mind the next time we have a zombie invasion,' she said, patting him on the arm. 'Good night, House.'
There was a zombie corpse lying beside her car. She stepped around it and got inside; started the ignition.
There were post-zombie invasion victory bonfires everywhere on the streets; people were dragging zombie body parts and putting them in the fire. There was a lot of drinking and cheering going on. Also a lot of repopulating, she noted with amusement as the couple kissing in the middle of the road hastily broke apart and moved away at the sound of her horn.
Cuddy smiled.
It hadn't been such a bad day, after all.
*