Evil Nurse Brenda Fest

One Day More...

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 02:37:07 GMT

...until we will call Round 1 of the Evil Nurse Brenda Fest to be completed. Thank you everyone for your hard work, and if you've procrastinated like I have, it's still not too late to get something in. There are plenty of unclaimed prompts, and we've opened up an unprompted prompt as well for anyone.

And still, if you want or need more time, please let either myself or girlofsoccer know.

Fic: Life on Freakin' Mercury Retrograde

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 02:33:29 GMT

Title: Life on Freakin’ Mercury Retrograde
Author:

azmatazz (aka: arizonamyrie)
Beta: girlofsoccer (aka: Hail the Random)
Prompt: unprompted – ENB meets Life on Mars
Characters: Evil Nurse Brenda, House, Cuddy, Annie Cartwright (LoM), Sam Tyler (LoM), Gene Hunt (LoM)
Rating: PG
Warning: mild swearing, 1970
Disclaimer: Not mine. Characters belong to their respective creators in Hollywood and Cardiff
Summary: Brenda has a small accident in the clinic and wakes up in 1973 Manchester. House/Life on Mars crossover

Note: This was supposed to be part of a larger, three-part fic just for the ENB_Fest here that would have started with a short introspective piece and then followed by a House/Torchwood crossover. But, thanks to life and time, it's now just this and the other fic I posted.

~~~~~

Late. L-A-T-E. Late.

1.) Happening, coming, etc… after the usual, proper, or expected time; tardy; behindhand.
2.) Having recently died.

Brenda was late and she knew it. She looked down at her watch and a few swearwords popped out of her mouth as she ran from her car at the back of the parking lot to the employee entrance at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. She wasn't normally late. In fact she was never late. But there was always that annoying coworker lurking in the corner waiting for her, just to say those two little words: "You're late." Well, one word and a contraction. Did that still count?

It was 8:17 am and she was due in the walk-in clinic over half an hour ago to process early patients. It was the middle of April and a light shower had just dampened the blackened pavement beneath her feet. She had oatmeal for breakfast, and managed to spill the first spoonful of it on her first set of scrubs. As she ran from her car towards the hospital, she thought of all the wonderful excuses she could try. She could say her alarm clock didn't go off, which in reality, it didn't. She could say her car broke down, and really, the starter was sticky that morning and the car's electronics were a mess. Or traffic, there was a backup on her way in, which of course was really due to the ten-car pileup just ahead of the highway exit closest to the hospital. That Detective Gene Hunt took his time explaining it all to her as he pulled her over on that ramp for reckless driving. But her real reason for being late? She was up late watching British television.

Brenda skidded into the clinic, her heavy breaths barely discernable to the usual banter and shuffling of the hospital. She ran fast, hard, and then skidded, her purse spilling across the floor of the nurses' station and her water bottle breaking, splashing water all over her and a computer inches away from her head. Whoever said those things were indestructible lied, and she had every intention of hunting them down. She laid on the floor in the puddle of water, staring at the ceiling. A few nurses were running to her when she heard the unmistakable squeaking of an obnoxious, pompous doctor's cane behind her head.

"Oops," he said as he stole the sucker that spilled from her purse.

"House!" Brenda yelled as she shot up to steal the sucker back from him but he was too fast and was walking away. The nurses, seeing that their supervisor was okay went back to their own work. "House! Come back here this instant!"

"You are not my mother. And YOU are late." House looked down at his watch and popped the sucker out of his mouth. "Twenty minutes past eight. You know how long I've waited for you to come and yell at me?" He popped the sucker back into his mouth, just to annoy her. "Twenty minutes."

"You were on time?"

"Well, no. But the principle still stands." He flashed her a toothy grin and started to walk away.

Brenda picked up a stack of patient charts next to her and looked down at them, studying the one on top: a Sam Tyler, a new detective in Princeton with a sore throat and botched insurance. "Dr. House, you may need these," she said, following behind him, walking, then running. For a man needing a cane, he could really move fast. She broke into a faster pace when suddenly her foot hit something other than the floor. Patient files flew everywhere and she fell backwards, hitting her head on the edge of a countertop on the way down.

"Augh!" she called out as she felt herself fall backwards, the lights growing brighter around her, sounds growing louder. One face was discernable in front of her own. House. She felt him touch her forehead and saw him shine a penlight in her eyes, one, then the other. She heard him call for a gurney and check her pulse. Then there was another flash and all went dark. Brenda had one thought, and one thought only: Damn you, House!

~~~~~

Lights started to flash in front of her eyes as she slowly rose from the depths of consciousness to the world around her, followed by the sounds of phones ringing and typewriters clanking. Typewriters? She opened her eyes and was hit with the blinding light of a lamp above her head; cigarette smoke hit her nose next and she began to cough. She never smoked a day in her life and the scent only irritated her further due to her secret desire to at some point become a chain smoker. She closed her eyes again to protect them from the harsh chemicals.

"Sam, she's coming to!" a woman with a British accent shouted from near her head. Did she just hear that right?

"I'll be right over," a man, presumably Sam, answered with a similar accent as Brenda opened her eyes. The cigarette smoke that loomed in the air made them water and she began to rub them.

"It's okay dear. You hit your head and have a concussion, that's all," the woman said again. Brenda looked her up and down. She was a woman with shoulder length hair reminiscent of a shorter, darker version of Farrah Faucet's stared back at her, wearing a very seventies shirt, vest, and skirt combo. A man walked across the room wearing a similar shirt, corduroys, and a black leather jacket. He offered Brenda a cup of water.

"Here," the man said as the woman helped her sit up straight. "This will help."

Brenda looked around and tried to figure out where she was and what was going on. "This isn't the hospital."

"No, it's not," the woman said. "I'm WDC Annie Cartwright, you can call me Annie, and this is DI Sam Tyler."

"Sam," he said and blocked the doorframe from view. The occasional glance was shot through to the room behind him and back to Annie.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Brenda looked around again, still dazed and confused as to why she was laying on a couch in what appeared to be a locker room and why the two other people didn't speak the same as her. She sat up but was dizzy for the moment.

"Easy there," Annie said as Sam leaned down to help ease Brenda back down on the couch. It was at this moment that Brenda realized she was no longer wearing her scrubs. In fact, she was wearing what looked to be a woman's police uniform from the United Kingdom. 1970s United Kingdom.

"Oh, crap." Brenda said as she saw what was happening. "House! Come out right this instance! I know it's you behind this!"

"Shh, no. Please don't shout!" Sam whispered, trying to quiet Brenda down. He offered her the glass of water again.

"Fine," Brenda said, taking a sip of water. "Where am I?"

"Manchester. You're in the main police station. You're a WPC, recently assigned here from Plainsboro, B division," Sam said. "Or at least we think. We just found you in here as is."

"You took my job," Annie offered a small wave at Brenda. "It's not that bad."

Brenda started laughing. "Okay, right. I'm a nurse at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital at Princeton University. The year's 2008, and last I checked, I was wearing pink scrubs. I hit my head in the clinic and fell down, this was right after House did something…”

"Concussion," Annie held a cold rag to Brenda's head. Sam looked back down at them.

"Well, we can't have the Guv knowing what's happened."

"The Guv?" Brenda asked. And on cue a man appeared in the doorway, glass of a tannish colored liquid in his hand that she could smell from ten feet away.

"Well, what are you two love birds doing in here? And who's she?" he glanced down at Brenda.

"Excuse me? Who are you? Where is House?" Brenda ran up to the man in the doorway despite Sam’s and Annie’s best efforts at keeping her on the couch. Brenda had a sudden rush of dizziness that fought to overtake her.

"Guv, give us a minute-"

"Don't Guv me, Tyler. You're insane enough as is, we don't need another nutter around here."

"Excuse me!" Brenda tried again.

"Who's the bird?" the man asked to Sam, but it was Annie who answered him.

"She's my replacement for the WPC position. It's no bother really. She brought up some paperwork and slipped on someone's spilled coffee. Hit her head, she'll be fine." Annie tried charming her way with the man, but it obviously wasn't working.

Brenda looked at the older man and said, "You pulled me over this morning! A block from the hospital."

"Did not!" the man yelled.

"Did too. You're Detective Gene Hunt. You pulled me over for reckless driving right after I got through the accident zone. Then, as a nurse, you wouldn't let me help out at the scene. The hospital was just a few blocks away."

"Where was this?" Hunt asked.

"Princeton. New Jersey. The United States. North America-"

"This is Manchester. England. Europe." Hunt took a sip of his drink.

"Why am I in Manchester?" Brenda asked. "I don't want to be in Manchester!"

"Well, you should have thought of that sooner," Hunt barked at her. "Ev'ry day I ask myself that question, and ev'ry day's worse than the last. Clean 'er up and get 'er outta here," Hunt walked out of the room, sipping his whiskey or bourbon or whatever the hell it was he was drinking while in a police station in England. Sam and Annie waited for the door to fully close once again before they gave their attention back to Brenda.

"Look, it's really not as bad as you think."

"Like you would know Sam – wait. Why are you here?"

"I work here," Sam said.

"No, you don't. I saw you today."

"I had an accident, and I woke up here. It’s complicated.”

Brenda looked up and down at the man. "I gathered that already but I don’t know how. But you were in the clinic, I had your chart in my hand. You have a sore throat, fever, probably just strep. But your insurance is botched." Sam looked at Brenda, about to ask her a question, but she ignored him and pushed Annie aside. "Look I have to get back. It's bad enough that House is going to lord this over me as is, but now I'm hallucinating I'm on a TV show." As Brenda took a step forward, a wave of nausea overtook her and her knees buckled.

"Steady there," Sam caught her.

"But I have to get out of here." She stood up taller, and Sam, noticing her change in posture, let go of her arm. "First things first, to tell your boss that he shouldn't have pulled me over this morning."

"Okay," Sam said, not really bothering to take in a word of it.

"Next, tell House that the joke is up, and great job redecorating the locker room. Oh, and finding a 1970s policewoman’s uniform. From Great Britain. Kudos to that.

"We'll remember that, sweetie," Annie replied, pressing a cool damp cloth to Brenda's forehead.

"And thirdly, thirdly…" Brenda's voice began to trail off as the room lurched around her; Sam and Annie helped her lay back onto the sofa.

Her name was the last thing Brenda heard Annie say as the world around her went dark.

~~~~~

"She's coming to…" a woman said from behind Brenda's head. "That's a nasty bump there, but with a couple of days to rest, you should be fine."

Brenda opened her eyes with caution, not quite sure of what sight would greet her – a hospital in 2008 or a police station in 1973.

"Welcome back to the land of the not drugged up. My name's Greg House and I'll be your tormentor today."

"Can it House," Brenda whispered as he shone a penlight in her eyes. The world was still spinning around her, but she could make out the faces of House, Cuddy, and Gloria, one of the nurses she worked with in the clinic. She smoothed her hands over her thighs, feeling the cotton of her scrubs under them, not the polyester of a policewoman's uniform skirt. "As for drugged, I don’t think I can ever match you House.”

"Concussions do that," Cuddy said. "And I think you'll be taking it easy for a few days. Worker's comp will help. Do you remember what happened?"

"I slipped on something, fell and hit my head I think. House was there. Then, I was in 1973, in Manchester."

"Life on Mars marathon last night?" House asked, and Brenda could see he was preparing some quip to get back at her with.

"House, don't bother her. She's just had a brain injury."

"Thank you," Brenda said to Cuddy as House left the exam room.

"Take it easy for a few days, Brenda, and everything will be good as new."

"Good as new," Brenda said, leaning back onto the gurney. Cuddy and Gloria walked out of the room, leaving Brenda alone on the gurney. The flickering of the lights hurt her eyes, so she closed them and listened to herself breathing in and out in the quiet of the hospital room.

"Brenda! Wake up!" Brenda heard Sam yell. Her eyes shot open and she sat up on the gurney, but was met by an empty room. She should have never stayed up to watch TV.

Fic: Matters of Illusion

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 02:06:30 GMT

Title: Matters of Illusion
Author: azmatazz (aka: arizonamyrie)
Beta: the fantabulous girlofsoccer (aka: Hail the Random)
27 – ENB meet Jack Harkness. For some strange reason, he doesn't massively hit on her.
Characters/Pairings: Evil Nurse Brenda, Jack Harkness
Rating: PG-13 cause it’s Jack. You can’t have a PG or G version of him, that’s just wrong.
Warnings: mild sexual innuendo – cause it’s Jack.
Disclaimer: I don't own House, or the other show from whence this fic came. And I’m just a poor music teacher turned nursing student. Suing=don't.
Summary: A relative from Brenda’s past turns up to help her out.

~~~~~

She remembers a golden light. Golden light floating around her, surrounding her, enveloping her and then crushing her life into one moment, a moment that spanned across all of eternity but was over in the briefest of seconds. It was as if she had broken all the laws of contemporary physics. She had become a fact, a set point in time and space. That's when it all started. That's when it all ended.

Brenda sat at the table in the library, the cool oak table glistened in the reflection of the setting sun. The same sun she had seen all her life, but somehow, the historical value of her surroundings made it seem older, wiser. She felt as if she had lived this life before, known all the lines, known all the actions to the script held by someone cleverer than her. Not that she wasn't clever, she always had been, but today felt repetitious. Not only did it feel the same, but it was the same.

Old.

She opened another book, scanning the index for a glimmer of hope for information on the subject of her research. It had taken her long enough to get to this point in her life. Where she had once settled for familiarity, and where she still wished she could do so, she now settled for anything to keep her secret from being discovered. She had to keep it hidden at any cost, even if that cost was too painful to bear. No, she couldn't give up again. Lord knows she once tried. She tried many times, and failed in all of her attempts. The one final act promised to all she failed at. Figured.

But she was getting distracted from her work, which seemed all too common these days. Brenda looked back at the stack of books in front of her. She was getting odd glances from the many students scattered about the library. Too many books. No one used the old collections anymore, not since the library had gone digital far too long ago to remember. The books were merely kept for the sake of having books, much like a family heirloom is kept long after the original owner has passed away. Why hadn't she switched to the laptops that everyone else was using now? Why did she still insist on doing the research the old way?

Brenda sighed as she sat back in the chair, closing her eyes and taking in the atmosphere of the room around her. A room that had once smelled of aging paper and the hint of varnish, but had now taken a warm silicon scent, the scent of computers; a scent that had become all too familiar to her in this life. Picking up the stack of books to return to the librarian, she heard a familiar voice.

"You're not still using those things?" the man said from across the entryway, the breeze coming in from the doors and blowing his WWI era coat around his knees. Brenda handed the books across to the young student sitting behind the desk and glanced to where the voice had come from, trying not to draw further attention to herself. "I'm how much older than you and even I've adapted to these new systems!" A couple of young women walking past the man gave him a second glance over their shoulders; he turned and winked back at them. Brenda rolled her eyes and pulled her bag closer over her shoulder, trying to find a way to escape from the man trying to catch her attention.

She started to walk to the first floor stacks, but the man caught up to her. "Look, I don't want any trouble!" he said as he held his hand on her shoulder.

"You should have thought of that earlier, Jack Harkness, before you got me fired from PPTH."

"That was ages ago!" Jack said, releasing her from his grip. "I didn't know that House was actually going to release those squirrels in the clinic. Or the hospital for that matter."

"What did you think he was going to do? Name them after Disney princesses and play dress-up?" A few of the patrons glared at Brenda from behind their computer screens, her voice having interrupted them.

Jack pulled Brenda to a secluded alcove, away from glaring eyes. "You know just as well as I do that those squirrels were the only way to contain the threat."

"It's always about that damned Torchwood!"

"Hey, don't knock it, it's gotten you many the divorce settlement over the years."

Brenda crossed her arms as she leaned back against the wall, still refusing to look Jack in the eye. "Why are you here?" she asked, settling into the inevitable list of excuses that Loverboy always read off to her when he came back begging.

"There's a problem."

"I'll say. I'm arguing with my ex-husband in the middle of a university library."

"It hasn't stopped you yet."

"I'll tell you Jack Hark--- hrmmph!" Jack grabbed Brenda's face to kiss her as she shrieked into his mouth and hit his shoulders with her fists, trying to get away from the man. "Hrmmph!!!!" she screamed again, this time earning a stern look from the librarian. Her bag slid off her shoulder and hit the floor, a few books and pens scattering across the hard marble as she tried yet again to push Jack Harkness off of her.

"Well that always used to shut you up in the past."

Brenda dropped to the floor to pick up the scattered books and pens. Her eyes darted up at Jack, a furious rage burning behind them. "It only worked before the fourth divorce. After then I got smart."

"It took you that long?" Jack chuckled and wiped a spot of Brenda's saliva off his cheek. Brenda only stared back at him. "Or is that because you just can't stay away from me?"

"More like keep you away. What do you want this time Jack Harkness? Or should I still call you Jack Hardness as that's what it always seems to be."

"Ohh, touchy today, aren't we?"

"Your beanstalk will be the death of you. And besides, you haven't been up for over thirty-six hours straight researching a paper on Alzheimer's Disease."

"That's what I smell."

"Jack!" Brenda threw a light punch at his shoulder, but he was too fast to be caught by her lethargic arm.

"Okay. It's about that day in the clinic." Jack looked down, drawing Brenda's attention away from his eyes for the moment. "The day we first met. Please don't be mad!" He added as fast as he could to soften the blow of Brenda's oncoming storm.

"The day you Retconned my boss, making her forget that it was you and House who set those squirrels loose, and not me?"

Jack sighed. "Yes, that day. I can explain. Really I can!"

Brenda crossed her arms yet again and looked up at Jack. "You have my attention."

"Remember the sudden outbreak of rashes in the Princeton area that week? Well, that's why I brought those squirrels. They weren't really normal squirrels; they were specifically attracted to the breed of mite that had been biting the area residents. Release the squirrels, catch the mite - alien threat detained."

Brenda looked up at Jack, "And how do I know you're telling the truth? How can I confirm this fact? All of this is long since gone, all my friends have long since died. We attended their funerals, you and I mourned at their graves. It's just us now."

"And Torchwood record."

"And hospital chart."

"Which can be faked. We do it all the time. I'd Retcon you but it obviously didn't work the first time."

Brenda sighed. "Jack, you and your Retcon cost me my job. You somehow convinced me to sleep with you, which led to this condition, which then led to me marrying you. Six times. What do you have now that you haven't already given me?"

Jack smiled and pulled a large envelope out of his coat pocket. "This," he said as he held it out in front of her.

"If you're asking me out on another date, it's not gonna work," Brenda said as she eyed the envelope.

"Not a date. An apology. I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I'm sorry I've changed you. And I'm sorry that you'll be stuck with me to the end of the universe and beyond. Our condition does that, and I know that it's the real reason you're here, not at some hospital working as a nurse, not as my companion running along behind me at Torchwood."

"If I ever see you before the end of the universe, it will be too soon," Brenda sighed.

"Then at least take this. It will come in handy." Jack handed Brenda the envelope, aged and worn, with an old 1914 Torchwood Institute stamp on it. "Take it, it is yours, after all. Just don't tell anyone how you got it. Paradox theory and all." Brenda took the envelope from Jack. He nodded his head towards the envelope. "Don't open it now."

Brenda looked down at the envelope, trying to figure out what was in it. She was still furious with Jack for all the treacheries he placed upon her over their failed relationships, but he always came running back to her, and she always gave in and ended up taking him back. Always. It didn't matter what excuse it was.

"Thank you then, I guess," Brenda said as she turned the envelope in her fingers. "What is it?"

"Really hon, it needs to wait."

"It's that toxic?"

"Nothing can kill you. Trust me, I've tried."

Brenda glared up at Jack, his smile beaming in her eyes. She smiled a little too. "Brenda, I know you've been involved in the research on aging. And I hope that envelope helps. What's the title of your article?"

"Intraganglia complexes of the delta and epsilon polyaminopurite casts and their effects on the aging complex."

"Sounds quaint."

"You can hardly imagine."

"May we never meet again, Brenda."

"Goodbye for now, Jack."

Brenda watched Jack walk out of the library as she held the envelope just under her nose, smelling a hint of his aftershave still lingering on it. There was a day and time where their argument would have ended with her waking up in a cheap motel room, but they had outgrown that over seventy years earlier. She smiled as she tugged her sweater closer to her body, the envelope holding the acrylic taught against itself as she darted across campus to her office. When she was safe within the confines of her version of academia, she took a closer look at the envelope marked "Torchwood, Deliver to Brenda Previn" on the front along with the date of December 15, 1914.

"He's held it for two hundred years?" Brenda asked aloud, reaching into her desk for a letter opener. She tore the envelope open and a copy of the June 2116 Neurology Today, her polyaminopurite article featured on the cover slid out of it, along with a Torchwood file folder marked Princeton, New Jersey, USA – 5 April 2010 – the day she first met Jack. She smiled and opened the folder when torn piece of paper from a Jack's diary fell to the floor.

Last night I made love to Brenda for the first time, but something happened, something I fear that may have changed her life for all eternity. As I bed her, a golden light enveloped us, wrapped around us as if the Bad Wolf herself had returned, bringing me back to life for my first resurrection. Brenda has now been changed. She will live forevermore.

</span>

Sat, 07 Jun 2008 22:44:36 GMT

3 days left! We're sending out a big group message to everyone. Remember, if you need a little more time, just let us know.

Fri, 06 Jun 2008 23:29:02 GMT

OK, a reminder at the 4-day. 4 days left, people! You'll get a message tomorrow! Get a move on!

Tue, 03 Jun 2008 22:28:32 GMT

Hey all. Just a reminder, there is only a week left to post your ENB fics and comics! We will remind you again at the 5-day, 3-day, and 1-day marks. Thanks!

Mon, 05 May 2008 00:29:28 GMT

Title: Breakdowns: Some Are Prettier Than Others
Author/Artist: girlofsoccer
Prompt: 1.) - ENB is home sick.
Characters/Pairings: Evil Nurse Brenda, Lisa Cuddy, 1(2?) surprise characters
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Hmm... murder, mindfuck, possession, a bit of swearing
Disclaimer: I don't own House, or the other show from wence this fic came. Suing=don't.
Beta: The fantastic azmatazz. Thanks for all your help!
Summary: Brenda gets sick at work. Cuddy sends the new head nurse to Brenda's apartment to take care of her.

"Nurse Previn, I need you to run these blood samples to the lab."
Brenda jerked up. Nurse Sanson, the new head nurse, a tall woman with very blond hair, was standing in front of her. "What?"
            "These blood samples. From Exam Room 3. The patient with severe abdominal pain...?"
            "Oh... Sure, yeah." Brenda tried to clear her head, and left to go to the lab. As she walked, the halls seemed to get longer, and every step seemed to pull her farther away. Brenda blinked, but every time she did, the halls just stretched more.
            After what seemed like hours, Brenda reached the lab. She reached out for the handle of one of the many doors and lost her balance, crashing into the glass wall. The lab technician dropped his crossword puzzle, jumped out of his chair, and ran to help her. "Nurse Previn, are you okay?"
            "Let me ask you a question... what was your name?"
            "Ben Karrie."
            "Ben Karrie. Does it look like I'm okay?"
            The lab attendant rolled his eyes. The rumors were true. Snarky as Doctor House, this one. "Do you need help?"
            "I would be ever so grateful if you could get your hands off of me and run CBCs on these blood samples."
            The attendant blinked. "What blood samples?"
            Brenda looked at her hands. Where blood samples had been, she could swear was now simply blood, dripping down her shoulders and running down along her arms and into her hands.
            "Nurse Previn? I'm calling Doctor Cuddy." Brenda sensed, rather than saw, the technician run to his desk and pick up the phone. She closed her eyes and gave in to the suddenly overwhelming headache beating a steady rhythm inside her skull.
* * * * *
            "Brenda, I really think you should go home." Cuddy paced back and forth behind Brenda's chair. It made her feel unbelievably paranoid, as if she was a test subject of some experiment she didn't know about. "Karrie said that you showed up at the lab and were shaking and pale. Is anything going on right now?"
            "No. Nothing. I'm just a little under the weather. I think it would be best if I did go home."
            "Okay. Take as much time as you need. This is the first time you've taken time off in the seven years you've worked here." Cuddy resumed her place behind her desk and began her paperwork again. "I'm sending Nurse Sanson with you, to make sure you get home all right."
            Brenda was too tired and her head hurt too much to care. She sat as Cuddy summoned Nurse Sanson and gave her instructions to Brenda's house. She was barely aware of Sanson taking her arm and leading her towards the parking lot, into her car. Her head was pounding and her body was more tired than it had ever been, even after her first twenty-fourt hour shift at Passaic General, when she was just starting
            "Brenda. We're here." Brenda snapped out of her half-stupor and glanced out the window. They were at her apartment building, so familiar, but so foreign at the same time. Sanson helped her out of the car and half-led, half-carried Brenda up the stairs. She took the keys out of Brenda's pocket and let Brenda and herself in.
            Brenda stepped through the doorway and stopped. Her apartment, same as ever, seemed strange and unknown. Like she was seeing it thought new eyes. New eyes with years and years behind them. Years of wars and loves and losses, all mixed together and contained inside these new eyes.
            "Let's get you to bed," said Sanson, fluttering around the apartment, closing the shades and finding food that she found suitable for her new patient. Brenda pulled off her scrubs and put on a giant T-shirt that her sister had brought her from a trip to Hawaii, and a pair of old sweat pants. She slid into bed and almost immediately fell asleep.
* * * * *
            Brenda awoke sometime later, to find the apartment silent. She tried to sit up, but the drumming pain in her head forced her back down. She groaned, and Sanson suddenly appeared in the doorway. 'Brenda. Are you feeling better?"
            "If feeling like nails are being driven through my head means better, then yes. Much."
            Sanson studied her for a moment. "Brenda? Can I ask you a favor?"
            "Shouldn't it be the other way around? Sick person makes requests of the nurse?"
            "In most cases. But Brenda," Sanson paused, more for dramatic effect, thought Brenda, than anything else, "this is not most cases."
            "Oh, all right. What's this big favor? Can I do it without getting up?"
            "You have to do absolutely nothing. You can just lie there. Just give me your left hand. Give me your left hand and close your eyes, Brenda."
            “Are we doing that “Healing Touch” bit? Because I could never get that to work.”
Sanson laughed. “Just open your mind Brenda. Open your mind.”
“How does one “open their mind,” exactly? The mind is already an open place, Nurse Sanson.”
            "Please. My name is not Sanson." She took Brenda's left hand and produced a ring, a flat circle on top of a thick base of silver, with many small circles in a larger circular pattern. The small circles were engraved with lines, as if the ring was a message to someone, a coded message that only they could understand. She slid it onto Brenda's left ring finger. The ring burned Brenda's finger, then her whole hand, and soon, her whole body was on fire. Brenda gasped and screamed, tried to pull the ring off her finger, but it held tight.
            "Who the hell are you? What have you done?"
            The nurse smiled, a creepy, eerie smile that spoke of unspeakable evil. "I'm Lucy. Lucy Saxon."
            And then the world went black.
* * * * *
            Brenda opened her eyes, or rather, her eyes were opened for her. She looked around without looking around, and sat up without sitting up. She tried to lie back down, but her body wouldn't cooperate. It was as if she had lost all control over her own body. A voice that was hers, but not hers, spoke.
            "Is this honestly the body you've given me?"
            Lucy dropped to her knees. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
            "It's... female."
            "I'm so sorry. It was the best I could do!"
            Brenda rose from her bed and in two steps, struck Lucy across the face. "I said I wanted someone smart! Someone able! Someone strong!" Each sentence was marked with another slap, until Lucy was sobbing. Brenda stared at the scene she was watching, that she was doing, and somehow, she wasn't doing it at all. She tried to pull her body back from the crying woman and towards the door. Brenda suddenly stopped and laughed.
            "Perhaps she is strong. I can feel her fighting to get out of her own head. Trying to get control of her body." Brenda stopped fighting with herself. She raised her right arm. Nothing happened. She raised her left. Nothing. She jumped up and down, spun in circles, and even stood on her head, but her body refused to do the same.
            "Yes, Lucy, you may have a find here." Her body extended a hand and helped Lucy back up. Lucy took the hand gingerly, and rose to her feet, shaking slightly. "You have done well. Now please, explain to dear Brenda here what is going on."
            "I've been controlling you."
            Brenda laughed. She laughed and laughed inside her head, and then she laughed some more. She spoke into thin air, "How could you control me?" The words echoed around her head, and then Lucy was infiltrating her mind, reading her thoughts.
            "With the ring."
            Brenda stopped laughing. "The ring?"
            "Yes. The ring. I made you feel what you've been feeling, I made you sick. I made you come home and I made you put that ring on."
            "But that doesn't make any sense! How can a ring control me? It's just a bit of metal!"
            "It's more than that. It's Time Lord metal. Alien. It held him, until he could become a new person."
            Brenda blinked several times, and started laughing again. "Please. This is just a hallucination! I'm home, sick, and you're watching me on Cuddy's orders!"
            Brenda's body laughed, and Lucy joined in. "No no, Brenda. This is no hallucination, although I'm sure you're going to wish it was. You are going to help me win the world."
            "And why should I do that? Who are you?"
            Her body grinned again. "I am the Master."
* * * * *
The Master settled himself in a chair–Brenda’s worn-out massage chair– and opened a telepathic link to Brenda. "So, Brenda. I do hope you don't mind me stealing your body."
"I...but...Of course I mind you stealing my body! Who the fuck wants their body stolen?"
            "Ah, but Brenda. The things you can accomplish with me on your side. You can rise through the ranks, leave that dreadful Princeton Plainsbro Teaching Hospital, you can work at the best hospital in the country. Or," the Master paused. "Or, you can go farther than that."
            Brenda was intrigued in spite of herself. "How much farther?"
            The Master grinned. "Beyond what you’d ever imagine."
            Brenda sat inside of her own head and thought. God knows she wanted power–honestly, who didn't–but she had never been the best of anything, and she wondered why the Master was picking her.
"And what do you want for ultimate power?"
            "Oh, a few things here and there. Money to be earned, jobs to be done. Nothing too terrible. If you're up for it."
            "Specifics. What do you want specifically?"
            "Well, since you asked... There is someone who I think needs a little vacation from her position of power." Brenda could feel triumph rising in her own head. The Master knew he had won her over. How, she wasn't sure, but she found herself willing to do whatever he wanted.
            "Who?"
            "The next rung on the ladder. A Doctor Lisa Cuddy."
* * * * *
            It was a simple matter for the Master to remove himself from her mind. Well, it was simple for him. Not so much for Brenda. It was rather like when he had entered, horrible, fiery, all-consuming pain. But when the Master was out, Brenda could think and move and speak for herself. And yet, the Master sat there in her head, whispering to her, like a distant memory, that you can't quite remember but can't quite forget.
            Her job was a simple one: Remove Doctor Lisa Cuddy. Use any means necessary. Lucy has supplied her with a .45 pistol and a Ruger Rimfire, both of which were makes from about twenty years before they had been invented and were completely silent when shot. Brenda had never heard of either of them. One shot to the heart, and one shot to the head for good measure.
Her job was to go in head-on, not crouching behind some plant sitting outside Cuddy's office. Just go in, stand at the door, hold up the gun, and shoot.
            This was, of course, easier said than done.
            Brenda didn't want to kill anyone. She didn't like death. She became a nurse to help stop death. But the Master had won her over and she had no idea how.
            Lucy drove Brenda out to a vacant lot at one in the morning for target practice. She taped up several pictures of Cuddy, and told Brenda to hit each one in the face. Brenda raised the .45 pistol and fired, though no one else would have known that it did, if not for the bullet smashing a dent in the concrete about two feet above the picture and the bits of rock and dust that flew at her and Lucy. Brenda guessed the Master was watching through her eyes, because the drumming feeling started up again. She sank to her knees, clutching her head, while the Master raged at her. He yelled and swore and threatened her, but she had absolutely no idea what he was saying.
            After several minutes, the Master quieted down again and the drumming receded. Brenda got back on her feet and picked up the .45 again. She took aim, fired, and managed to tear a corner of the picture. She waited for a moment. Nothing happened. So Brenda took aim and fired again. And again. Gradually, her shot got better, and Lucy had to put up new pictures every time Brenda fired. By four thirty, Lucy was out of pictures, and there was a pile of papers, all with holes straight through the middle.
            And so it went for the next three weeks.
            Every day, Lucy would go to work at the hospital to fill a shift in the Clinic. While she was gone, the Master would speak to Brenda from the back of her head, telling her about everything he had seen, everything he had done, and everything he ever hoped to do. Brenda sat, wide-eyed, for hours at a time, listening to stories of the Daleks, the Time War, and of course, the Doctor. The Master went on in great detail about the Doctor. How, when he had last seen the Doctor, he had been Prime Minister, and then ruler of the world, and then been shot by Lucy. How his accomplice Jack couldn't die, or stay dead, as the Master put it. He told her about how the Doctor had burned him after his death, and how Lucy took his ring from the smoldering remains of the fire. He told her about his partial resurrection, and living alternately inside the ring and Lucy. And he told her about future jobs she would do. Other people she would kill.
            At night, the Master would ease back into her subconscious, allowing her to focus on her task. Lucy supplied a varying degree of weapons, from sniper rifles to throwing knives, to help prepare her. By the end of the third week, Brenda could shoot to kill with seventeen different guns and five different knives. She was also given a shiny gold tube, which that Master assured her was a laser, just in case she missed.
            But Brenda wasn't going to miss.
            At eight thirty at night, Brenda drove to PPTH. She tucked the .45 pistol under her scrub top, took a deep breath, and got out of the car. The closer she walked, the more unreal it seemed. This is a dream, thought Brenda. A really weird, really fucked-up dream where I am being manipulated into being an assassin by an imaginary alien inside a ring. Still, Brenda kept walking. Her car was parked far (very far) away from the building, she could have turned and run any time she wanted, taken her car and headed off to Montana to live with her sister. But she kept going.
            All too soon, or not soon enough, she reached the doors of the hospital. She pushed them open and surveyed the scene before her. Nurses were walking down various halls, doctors were consulting with each other on their patients, even the weird night janitor who wore his pants backwards was in the hall, sweeping. None of them noticing her. They were all totally unaware of her and what she was about to do.
            Brenda tore her eyes away from the scene and turned to Cuddy's office. She walked up to the doors and knocked. Cuddy looked up and made an inviting motion. Brenda reached behind her back, removing the gun from her waistand as she stepped though the doorway.
            "Let me just finish up this paperwork, our lights, cameras, things like that, have been on the fritz lately."
            Brenda nodded and closed the doors. She leaned against one and felt a bit of the Master coming to the surface of her brain, whispering of bloodlust.
            Cuddy closed the folder she had been writing in. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Brenda. Do you know what you had? Mono, maybe?" She saw the flash of steel. "What is that?"
            Brenda raised the gun and fired before Cuddy had time to gasp. The Master was right. Silent shot. The bullet tore towards Cuddy, slamming a hole directly in between her eyes. Cuddy's head swung back with the impact and began to bleed. Then the bleeding stopped. Then the wound shrank. And then there was no wound.
            And other than Brenda and her .45 pistol, there was no evidence that Doctor Lisa Cuddy, 41, Administrator at Princeton Plainsbro Teaching Hospital, had ever been murdered.
            Brenda blinked. The ring was gone from her finger. The Master had left her mind, as if he’d never been there. He had convinced her to murder her boss, and she’d done it. She’d killed Lisa Cuddy, and no one would ever know.
* * * * *
A few days later, Brenda drove along a road to a church. She parked her car, and pulled on her jacket. She stepped out into the cold morning air, wind whipping around her, tearing at her clothes and hair. She walked, past the church, into the field behind it. She walked past rows and rows of names until she found the one she was looking for. Brenda took a small boquet of flowers from under her jacket and put them next to the small plaque.
Here lies Lisa Cuddy, 1967–2008

I'll Watch You Go

Thu, 24 Apr 2008 02:50:28 GMT

Title: I'll Watch You Go
Author: peace-and-war
Beta; the ever lovely spaztic-magic
Pairing: Brenda/House
Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. House. End of story.
Rating: MA.
Warnings: YES! LITTLE KIDDIES MUST NOT READ. Language and references.
Summary: Handcuffs, sex, anger, angst, revenge. Not in that order.

enb_fest Prompt #21 Cameron confiscates a pair of handcuffs from a sick bank robber. ENB finds them and puts them to good use.

Come back home, won't you come back home? {Fake cut to my journal!}

The Most Eligible Man in Princeton Plainsboro

Sun, 20 Apr 2008 20:47:44 GMT

Title: The Most Eligible Man in Princeton Plainsboro
Author: hwshipper
Prompt: enb_fest prompt 14: ENB meets Wilson for the first time.
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: PG-13.
Words: 3100
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Heel and Toe Films, Shore Z Productions and Bad Hat Harry Productions in association with Universal Media Studios.
Summary: Nurse Brenda's the new girl at PPTH. She's already got the crankiest doctor in the hospital as her patient. What will she make of his best friend?

Beta: the ever-wonderful bornbeautiful
A/N: I've had this fic inside me for a long time: the enb_fest seemed like a good time to let it out.

The Most Eligible Man in Princeton Plainsboro

3 Days to Go

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 23:48:54 GMT

Hey everyone. It seems like it's only been a few weeks and some of you may have totally forgot, but the posting period for enb_fest is almost upon us! Wh-hoo! It begins on April 20. Just in case you didn't get that, APRIL 20. Main posting period goes until May 3 for some reason, which gives you 13 days to post. Remember, if you aren't QUITE done yet, you still have some extra time to post it afterwards.

We look forward to seeing what you've come up with!

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 05:47:36 GMT

The time is upon us! Time to claim prompts! (Yay!)

To claim a prompt, comment here with THE NUMBER AND THE PROMPT. Again, THE NUMBER AND THE PROMPT. This way, we can avoid mixups. A Mod will respond letting you know that you have now claimed the prompts(or telling you that #72 was already taken.) Please, no more that 3 prompts per person. If you finish and post your fics or art and you really really want to do more, take one more. But please, try to keep it at 3.

This time, enb_fest has something special. Ooooh. Say, you're walking down a road whistling a merry tune and you think, "I know a good prompt for enb_fest! What if..." Then you realize, it's not on the prompt list, so you can't possibly do it. Right?

Wrong! This year, we have the unprompted claim (UPC). This is if you have a fic or comic idea and it's not on the list. You can, im your claims post, say, for instance:
#43 - ENB goes to the store
#47 - ENB buys new shoes
UPC - ENB goes for a walk on a quiet street
ENB walking on a quiet street is not on the prompt list. But we let you do it anyways.
(REMEMBER, UPCs still count in your 3 prompt limit.)

RULES:
-One shots only. They can be in the form of sections(long sections, all in the same fic), but no chapters.
-A fic can be whatever you want it to be. You can take a comic anywhere you want. But, if a prompt says friendship or has a pairing, use it. That's why you claimed THAT ONE, right?
-You will not, no matter what anyone says, get a prompt that has already been claimed.
-If you wish to unclaim a prompt, please let us know here. Again, include both the number and the prompt.

GEN PROMPTS
~~1.) ENB is home sick.~~ girlofsoccer
2.) ENB has a favorite object.
3.) ENB's coffee mug.
4.) Why ENB wears pink scrubs.
5.) ENB saves PPTH from zombies.
6.) The clinic is swamped... thanks to House, of course, and ENB has to figure out what to do
7.) ENB receives a mysterious, anonymous bribe
8.) Wilson discovers ENB has a secret and tries to figure out what it is.
9.) A patient comes in with an unusual problem and ENB has to convince 10.) House to take him/her on
11.) ENB receives roses for Valentine's Day from someone in the hospital and House amuses himself trying to figure out who it is.
12.) ENB nurses House post-infarction.
13.) ENB meets House for the first time.
~~14.) ENB meets Wilson for the first time.~~ hwshipper
15.) The reason ENB hates House.
16.) How ENB got her Evil nickname.
17.) Pre-duckling: ENB takes joy in scaring candidates for House's fellowship

SHIP PROMPTS
18.) Brenda/??? - ENB breaks someone's heart
19.) Brenda/??? - Someone breaks ENB's heart
20.) Chase/Brenda - Brenda's patient needs surgery, Chase needs persuasion (sort of AU-y)
~~21.) Cameron/Brenda - Cameron confiscated some handcuffs from a sick bank robber. ENB puts them to good use.~~ peace_and_war
22.) House/Wilson/Brenda - ENB catches House and Wilson doing, um, something. *wink wink*
23.) Wilson/Brenda - Brenda has personal problems
24.) WIison/Brenda - Wilson asks her out for a coffee.

AU PROMPTS
25.) ENB is a part of House's team.
26.) ENB has a bad experience as a child (KID!FIC!)

CROSSOVER PROMPTS
~~27.) House/Torchwood (c'mon, you know I had to!) - ENB meet Jack Harkness. For some strange reason, he doesn't massively hit on her.~~ azmatazz
28.) House/Scrubs - Kelso hires ENB as the new head nurse.
~~29.) House/Dr. Who - The TARDIS lands in ENB's living room.~~ ladysarahii
30.) House/Bones- WITH A Brenda and Booth SHIP</strike>
31.) House/Project Runway - ENB is in the final 3 with... Cristian Siriano and JIllian Lewis.

ART PROMPTS
32.) ENB and House have a standoff fight. ENB wins.
33.) ENB designs and models clothes in her spare time.
34.) Tour of ENB's apartment

UNPROMPTED CLAIMS
House/Life on Mars crossover - azmatazz

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 05:35:25 GMT

Welcome One and All!

And welcome everyone else to House's House of Whining's Evil Nurse Brenda Festival. So far, the only fan festival on the interwebby dedicated to our favorite nurse at PPTH - Brenda Previn, RN!

Before you dive right in to the festivities, there are a couple of things we'd like to share with you, hopefully archived here at the top of the very first page you see of this journal (because, hey, Brenda Previn is evil!Love).

Dates, Rules, and Submission Info...

Can be found here. This will tell you everything you need to know about when/how/if/love/etc.... Well, not love, because that would just be plain weird. But, all the information you need to know about how to participate is in that link. To submit a prompt, you can go here.

Also, WE HEART BETAS!!!! In fact, I'm using Betas for the first time with this festival, and I'm already enjoying it. And, we HEART BETAS so much that I'd like to share the following with you from our ever so favorite girlofsoccer:

Remember, betas are love.
We strongly recommend getting a beta.
Maybe even two betas.

So, we encourage all to find a beta, and if you want to volunteer to beta, or even help with medical/nursing knowledge, follow this link and leave a comment.

Other Stuff...

We all hope you enjoy yourselves over the course of this festival and look forward to whatever creative talents you all wish to share!

girlofsoccer (aka: Hail the Random)
ir0nically_no (aka: 407)
azmatazz (aka: arizonamyrie)

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 05:06:38 GMT

Yes, the time has come! enb_fest is officially open! *pumps fists wildly*
And how better to start off than the way all the other fests were started? Thaaaat's right, PROMPT SUBMISSION!!

Every great fic and every great comic must start out with an idea. This post, the prompts collection post, aims to do just that. The rules are incredibly simple:
1). Anyone can submit prompt ideas. You don't have to plan on writing a fic or drawing a comic either. But if you have an idea you'd like to share, hand it over, hehe.
2). All genres of prompts are acceptable. That means het, gen, slash, threesomes, sci-fi, medical drama, etc. Brenda's ~~evilness~~ awesomeness will translate to any genre.
3). You may submit as many prompts as you like. Take as many posts as you want/need. When you post them, please include the prompt and genre (gen, ship, AU, crossover, or art). This makes the mods' lives MUCH easier.

Example Prompts:
• Why did Brenda become a nurse?
• Cuddy asks ENB for a favor
• Brenda sees something disturbing and takes a ~~blackmail~~ picture
Comment in this post with your ideas. We will remain open for prompts until a week before enb_fest closes.

Please remember that this post is NOT for claiming prompts; that will come after the mods sort through the prompts and make a pretty list of all the ideas we've received. (On January 31.)

Beta Post

Fri, 04 Jan 2008 04:59:07 GMT

Remember, betas are love. We strongly recommend getting a beta. Maybe even two betas.

We are currently looking for people interested in being betas for the fic writers and comic drawers of this round. For those who don't know, a beta is someone whose job it is to proofread a fic or comic and offer suggestions to the author or artist. If you're interested in helping someone, please comment here with your username, name, and some way of contacting you (an email address, an AIM screenname, etc).

We'll be compiling a beta list to be posted after everyone has started making claims. If you're interested, but don't feel comfortable betaing a certain type of fic (smut, sci-fi, etc), please make a note of that. Once again, comment here.

Thanks!

BETA FORMAT:
Username: LJ username
Name: Name to go by
Means of Contact: Email, IMing, etc.
Notes: Anything you don't do, anything you aren't good at, etc.

Dates, Rules, and Submission Info.

Fri, 04 Jan 2008 04:40:37 GMT

DATES... (courtesy of wilson_fest)

January 10–January 31: During this time we will be open for prompt submissions. (Submitting a prompt does NOT mean you have to write or draw something yourself. We understand that, while people may have ideas, they may not be able to write or draw themselves for some reason or other.)

January 31–February 14: During this time you may claiming your prompts. However, unclaimed prompts will be claim-able until the last day of posting.

February 14–April 20: This is the official writing/drawing period. (I’m sure that you all start working the moment that your claim has been approved, but this is the official time frame.)

April 20–May 3: This is the week that we will open the community for you to post your fics or art. Until then, please don’t post them anywhere else.

May 3–June 10: If you were unable to post during the posting period, you still have one month to finish up your fics or art and post it.

RULES... (courtesy of wilson_fest)

#1: Flaming, trolling, ship wars, etc. are NOT allowed or tolerated. If you’re caught doing any of the above, you will be removed from the community.

#2: Everything is allowed (Pairings, gen fics, crossovers, AU’s, etc.). You have free reign over what you write. All we ask is that you put proper warnings on fics that are mature or may contain other material that may not be suitable for younger readers or the faint of heart.

#3: Your work is your work. Once you’ve posted/linked your fic here, you are free to post it anywhere else you want.

#4: Information regarding how to submit prompts can be found on the PROMPT POST. The same goes for information on how to claim prompts. Once prompt claims are open, you will find the information in that post.

#5: Join the community. That was you can post your fics or art. Also, you should add it to your friends list so that you can keep track of announcements.

#6: We know some of you work quickly. If you would like to claim more than one prompt, you may, but please, no more than 3 prompts per person.

#7: Once a prompt has been claimed, it will be crossed of that list. Please don’t request a prompt that has already been claimed. You won’t get it.

#8: Still have a question? Leave it here, and one of the mods will help you out.

SUBMISSION RULES AND INFORMATION (courtesy of wilson_fest)

#1: All stories must be 500 words or more.

#2: Stories must be complete when you post them. So… only one-shots are allowed. No works-in-progress please.

#3: All stories must focus on Evil Nurse Brenda in some way. You can do this however you like, but Evil Nurse Brenda MUST be the focus. It is, after all, called enb_fest.

#4: Betas are love. Seriously. They’re not required, but we STRONGLY encourage them. Like, a whole lot. Maybe even have two betas.

#5: If you choose to go beta-less please, please, please make sure that your fic contains decent grammar, spelling, and punctuation.

#6: When it is time to post your story, use this posting form. Use it. Please use this posting form. We beseech you to use this posting form. As I type this, I am on both knees begging you to use this posting form. (NOTE: This Maintainer has had too much sugar and should not be allowed near caffeine for three days or so.)
Title:
Author/Artist:
Prompt:
Characters/Pairings:
Rating:
Warnings:
Disclaimer:
Summary:

#7: When posting your fic, please make sure that you tag it. The tag is "round 1 fic".

#8: Please have your fics or art ready by the due date. We will be posting a reminder when the due date gets close. We will stay open an extra month or so so as to let anyone who didn't have the chance post their fics or art during the main posting period. If you need an extesion(maybe you'll be out of town for the posting periods) please ask here.

#9: If for some reason, after claiming a prompt, you know you won’t be able to fulfill it, let us know. This way, someone else can grab it if they want.

QUESTIONS

If you have any questions, please post them here and a Mod will get back to you as soon as we can.