Everyone's Got A Muse...

Twilight Snark Icons

2008-07-14T04:34:17Z

Twilight snarking on Snarkfest led to these. They're not anything fantastic, but I enjoy them. Plus, it was my last night of actually not having to do homework.

I'm not going to cut because there are only five. All text was suggested by cleolinda.

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;;Comment, credit, and all that jazz

Picture Perfect

2008-03-26T03:12:54Z

Title: Picture Perfect
Author: wildcatlizzie
Characters/Pairing: Dean/OFC, a bit of Sam/Sarah
Word Count: 3,513
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: Dean discovers that out of all the monsters that he’s faced, there is nothing scarier than childbirth.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Eric Kripke, et al. No copyright infringement is intended, this is solely for entertainment purposes. Please don’t sue me. I’m a poor college student who has no money anyway.
Author's Notes: Future fic, obviously. Many, many thanks to moonfairyhime for reading through several drafts and her wonderful suggestions. Thanks also to giventofly37 who also read through more than once, and provided great advice. You guys are awesome! Also, comments make me smile!

The late May sun beat down on Dean’s denim clad legs. He was working under the Impala which was rolled out in the driveway.

The driveway.

Man, he still got a kick out of that. If someone would’ve told him ten years ago that he’d have a nine-to-five, a wife, and a baby on the way, he would’ve splashed some Holy water on them just to be safe. But Sammy had been right; this apple pie life wasn’t so bad.

He and Sam would occasionally hit the road when something big and bad made itself known. It was surprising, though, how easy it was to put the Job on the back burner. Yet once they had realized that having a family aside from each other was worth the risk, there was hardly any question or trepidation about it. They both preferred to stay close to home, spend time with their wives and, in Sam’s case, play with the kids.

He pulled himself forward and rolled out from underneath the car. He stood up and grabbed the rag that hung from his back pocket to wipe the grease from his hands.

"Dean?" his wife called out to him from the back of the garage.

"Yeah?" he called back, bending over the open hood of the car.

"Babe, we gotta go," she said, her voice closer now.

"Go where?" he asked, turning his head to look at her. He took a moment to admire her swollen belly before turning back to the carburetor that was giving him some trouble.

"To the hospital; my water broke," she replied.

Forgetting where he was, he shot straight up, smacking the back of his head on the hood of the car.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted, grabbing the back of his head.

She took his head in her hands and tried to examine his eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked, squinting at her.

"Yeah, I’m sure. The contractions are about eight minutes apart now," she told him, her voice still calm. "However, I can’t tell if I need to call an ambulance if you don’t fully open your eyes for me."

He slowly opened his eyes for her. She peered into them critically for a moment before holding up three fingers. "How many?"

"Definitely three," he told her. "Marrying an ER doc was undoubtedly the wisest decision of my life."

She made a sound of vague agreement as he kissed her cheek.

"Maybe," she replied, handing him the keys to her Explorer, "but ER doc or not, we’ve still got to go."

"Yeah – right," he said, slamming down the hood of the Impala.

---

The swinging ambulance bay doors slammed open as the paramedics rushed a new patient in. One was holding up a saline drip, another straddled the man’s waist while applying continual pressure to the femoral artery, two more moved along side, steering the gurney into the ER.

"What’ve we got?" Isabella Taylor asked, snapping on vinyl gloves.

"Male, 28, massive blood loss; he lost consciousness en route. BP is 85 over 60; heart rate is weak, but steady," one said, handing a clip board to her so that she could sign the paperwork, officially making the patient their responsibility.

"Don’t just stand there! Make yourselves useful!" she snapped at her interns.

"You family?" she asked turning her attention to the man covered in blood and white as a sheet.

"Yeah – yes. He’s my brother," Sam replied, easily looking over her shoulder at the organized chaos around his brother.

"Do you know what happened?" she asked.

His eyes flicked down to hers for the briefest moment before focusing again on his brother.

"Dogs," he whispered.

"What’s his name?" she said her voice softer, calmer as if she were placating a toddler.

"Dean," he told her. "His name is Dean."

---

He helped her into the passenger seat and pulled out his cell phone to call Sam. His sister-in-law picked up the phone as he turned the ignition. "Sarah? Izzie’s in labor; we’re on our way to Mercy General… See you there."

He hung up and took a quick glance at his wife before turning his attention back to the road. Her eyes were closed and her hands rested atop her belly; she was breathing deep – in through the nose and out through the mouth just like they had practiced.

"You okay, Iz?" he asked, taking her hand into his.

She nodded. "I’m good," she answered, squeezing his hand and letting out a whoosh of air as the next contraction hit her.

---

Twenty minutes later she was changed into a hospital gown and was staring straight ahead at the wall, her arms folded across her chest. Dean was sitting in the bedside chair, aggressively picking at imaginary lint on his pant leg.

A knock on the door jamb brought both of them out of their brooding. Sam walked in, looking like he wanted to hug everyone within arm’s reach. "Sorry we didn’t get here sooner, but we had to drop Caden and Abby off at a neighbor’s," he told them.

Sarah followed Sam in with a bouquet of flowers in her hand. Picking up on the tension in the room much quicker than her husband, Sarah went over and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking Isabella’s hand and kissing her cheek.

"What’s the matter?" Sam asked out of the corner of his mouth, hoping to remain discreet to their astute wives.

"No idea!" Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air and standing up.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s outburst; so much for subtlety. Sarah immediately stood up and walked over to stand in front of him her hands on her hips.

"What?" Dean shouted, clearly frustrated.

"You’re shouting," Sarah pointed out, her voice remaining calm.

"I know!"

Sarah reached out and grabbed him by his shoulders. "Deep breaths, Dean," she told him, shaking him a bit. "Shouting is not what she needs right now; she needs you to be supportive."

"I was!"

Sarah cut him off by shoving him towards Sam. "Go take a walk, calm down."

Dean crossed the room in several long strides with Sam close behind him.

Once in the waiting room, Sam took a seat while Dean paced back and forth in front of him.

"Dude, what’d you say to her?" Sam asked.

Dean stopped abruptly and looked at him incredulously. "What makes you think I said something?" He was still shouting.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him and that was exactly what Dean needed for the frustration to leave him. He sat down heavily in the chair next to his brother and sighed.

"I told her that childbirth can’t be that bad compared to some of the things that you and I have faced," he said.

"Not good, man," Sam replied, shaking his head.

"I thought I was being supportive by telling her that there are worse things out there than having a kid," he said.

---

Isabella pulled her bathrobe tightly around her as she groggily made her way to the door of her apartment. Whoever was on the other side of her door was growing impatient; even at three-thirty in the morning.

She was blinded momentarily by the bright lights in the hallway of her apartment building as she swung her door open to give whoever it was hell for dragging her butt out of bed. She recognized his voice before she even saw his face.

"Isa – Dr. Taylor, I really don’t have time to explain everything, but I’ve really got to get you out of here," Dean told her, his features tight and concerned.

"Dean? What are you..." before she could finish her question, a force unseen by her, pulled her back into the dark apartment and slammed the door in Dean’s face.

*

"So this is what you do, huh?" Isabella asked while stitching up a deep wound over Dean’s eyebrow.

"The pay is crap, but this gig certainly isn’t without its perks," he told her, a self assured grin spreading across his face.

"Is that right?" she asked, cutting off the excess string from his sutures.

"How else am I supposed to meet beautiful doctors who’ll fix me up and then let me take them to bed after saving them from a nasty poltergeist?" he replied, his smile now verging on cocky.

"Tell me, Dean," she said softly, leaning into his personal space, her warm breath brushing against his ear. "You talk real big and all, but the real question is, can you walk the walk, too?" she taunted, punctuating her challenge by nipping at his earlobe.

"Sweetheart, you’ve got no idea what you’re getting yourself into," he answered. In one swift motion he was out of his chair and kissing her while she pulled him into the bedroom.

---

"Do you even know what happens during childbirth?" Sam asked. "It’s really rather incredible."

"No," Dean replied firmly, shaking his head, "and I don’t want to know. I don’t care how incredible it is. I don’t care if she can push something the size of a watermelon out of a..." he stopped and shuddered. "What I do care about is the female body remaining aesthetically pleasing."

"Well, you’re going to be in there, aren’t you?" Sam asked, trying hard not to laugh at his brother’s anxiety.

"If she lets me back in the room," Dean said, sighing heavily. "It’s just that nothing from her shoulders down will exist until everything is back to normal."

Sam finally allowed himself to laugh as Sarah joined them out in the waiting room. Dean jumped to his feet and looked at her earnestly.

"She’s asking for you," she told him. She put a hand on his chest to stop him before he could take off. She pointed an authoritative finger at him and looked him in the eye. "No more yelling; she doesn’t need that kind of stress right now, even from you."

"Thank you," Dean told her, pulling her into a tight hug. He turned back around to face his brother with one arm still wrapped around Sarah’s shoulders.

"This little lady’s amazing amounts of awesome is exactly why I told you to just shut up and marry her already," Dean said, grinning broadly.

"Yeah. Right," Sam replied skeptically, nodding his head to humor his brother.

Dean turned back to Sarah and shook her slightly while laughing a bit hysterically before kissing her cheek and taking off down the hallway. He was going to be a dad.

All of his joy, though, was sucked out of him at the thought of Isabella not accepting his apology and kicking him out of the room. He hesitantly walked into the room to find her on her side with her eyes shut tight as she breathed through another contraction. He sat down on the edge of the bed and took one of her hands into his while he brushed the hair away from her face with the other.

Her grip on his hand loosened and she opened her eyes. "I’m sorry for being hormonal," she told him softly.

"I’m sorry for being ignorant," he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

---

"For the love of God, Dean, could you turn that down?" Isabella shouted from the second floor landing.

They’d been married for two years now, and she was beginning to think that there was never going to be a good compromise as to when it was appropriate to play Led Zeppelin at top volume throughout the house.

When she didn’t get a response, she sighed heavily and made her way down the stairs. Usually, after working the graveyard shift she would be sound asleep by the time her head hit the pillow regardless of what Dean was up to. Last night had been especially rough, but instead of sleeping she kept reliving the night, one patient after another.

She found him on the couch, looking through a detailed manual for one of the vintage cars that he was restoring at the garage. She angrily snatched up the remote for the stereo and turned it off.

"Hey!" Dean protested, looking up at her.

"I’m trying to sleep," she explained, trying to ease the edge in her voice.

"Well, it usually doesn’t bother you," he countered, standing up and trying to take the remote back from her.

She moved the hand that was holding the remote behind her back, trying to keep it out of his reach. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe just sometimes it does bother me?" she snapped, her voice rising.

"How am I supposed to know when it does bother you?" he asked, his voice also rising to match hers.

"Maybe you just shouldn’t play the music so fucking loud!" she shouted.

"God, is it that time of the month already?" he remarked dryly.

"Typical, Dean; real typical," she snipped, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. "Any time I get even the tiniest amount of emotional or upset or just plain pissed off, you immediately assume that I’m on my period!"

"Well, are you?" he asked, bracing himself for impact whether it’s verbal or physical. He’d taught her how to throw a decent punch and damn if she wasn’t good at it.

"No!" she yelled, taking a step towards him, but then thought better of it. She turned and paced for a moment before turning to face him again. "God, Dean, sometimes I just don’t understand how you can be so dense."

"I’m stubborn as a mule, what can I say?" he chided, outstretching his arms as if he was presenting himself. "Its part of the package, baby; what’s your excuse?"

"You really want to play that game?" she asked in disbelief. "Well, I’m pregnant and I’m pretty sure that means I win," she finished, throwing the remote back onto the couch.

All traces of annoyance left Dean’s face and were instantly replaced with joy. He was laughing as he picked her up and spun her around. The nausea that she’d been fighting for the last week came rushing back as she watched the room around her spin.

"Stop," she told him, "put me down."

For once Dean did as he was told. He watched, concerned, as she closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest.

"You okay?" he asked, stroking her back.

She nodded and pulled herself closer to him. "This really wasn’t the way that I wanted to tell you," she admitted. "I was trying to think of something cute, but it was too late for Father’s Day and too early for Christmas or your birthday, so I was kind of stuck."

"Hey," he said, pulling back so that he could look at her. "This may have been unconventional, but it was perfect, and it fits right along with the rest of our lives."

---

Sarah settled herself into the seat next to Sam while taking his hand into hers and resting her head against his shoulder.

"He’s going to be a good dad," she said after a while.

"Yeah, he is," he agreed, "as long as he’s got Izzie to balance him out."

"’Cause Lord knows you Winchester men would be lost without a good woman with a sound head on her shoulders," she teased.

"Hey, the three of us did just fine after Mom was gone," he defended.

"Hunting evil? With a full arsenal in the back of the Impala?" she countered. "Yeah, that just screams normal; I have no idea what I was thinking."

They sat in silence for a moment, the implications of Sarah’s words hanging in the air.

"You’re a wonderful dad, though, Sam, despite the lifestyle that you were brought up in," she told him, kissing his cheek. "And seeing as how Dean was a big part of your upbringing, I can honestly say that he’s going to be a great father; you’re proof of that."

Sam looked down at her and smiled before pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.

---

Dean managed his way into the small hospital bed next to Izzie, who was pressed up against him while she slept. He rubbed her belly whenever he felt the baby kick and muttered nonsense in the baby’s general direction as they waited.

Isabella stirred when her doctor entered the room to check in on her. "How are we doing, Isabella?" the doctor asked, examining both the maternal and fetal heart rate monitors.

"I’m good," she replied as Dean got off the bed and allowed her to roll back over onto her back. "The resting stage is over, I can feel it."

"That’s good, you’re progressing nicely, then," the doctor said, flipping the paper sheet back over Isabella’s knees to examine her. "You’re fully dilated, Isabella," Dr. Greene continued. "What’d’ya say? You ready to become a mom?"

She looked back up at Dean and smiled while giving his hand a squeeze. "Absolutely."

---

Dean has always known that Isabella was a screamer, but right now his ears were practically ringing. Her more violent outbursts were directed towards him and the rest of the general male population, but the nurse had assured him that it was only the pain talking.

"You’re doing great, Isabella," Dr. Greene spoke up from his position between her legs.

"You hear that, Iz?" Dean asked, wiping her brow with a washcloth. "You’re doing great. You’re amazing." He looked up at a nurse for reassurance who gave him a slight nod and a wink. Apparently he was doing great, too.

"We’re in the home stretch here, Isabella," the doctor told her. "The head’s just about fully crowned."

"The head’s crowning?" she asked breathlessly. "I wanna see."

"See?" Dean asked, confused.

She nodded her head, looking at something just beyond her knees. He followed her gaze to where one of the nurses had angled a mirror just right to reflect what could be seen of the baby’s head.

"Oh God," Dean muttered, the color draining from his face.

"Falling husband," one of the nurses announced.

Thankfully, they had such a well-oiled machine going here, that one of the nurses was right behind him with a chair as his knees gave out.

"One more big push, Isabella, that’s all we need," Dr. Greene said.

"Almost there, baby, you can do it," Dean said encouragingly, taking her hand in his as he stood back up on shaky legs.

Moments later, Dr. Greene stood up holding a bloody, goopy, writhing mess of baby. Add that to the list of things Dean would’ve splashed holy water on ten years ago. Hell, even ten minutes ago.

"Would you like to cut the umbilical cord, Dad?" the doctor asked, holding out the baby to him while the nurse handed him an umbilical cord clamp.

After cutting where instructed, he watched as they took the baby to the other side of the room before looking back to Isabella who was positively beaming. He brushed the hair away from her face as he leaned down to kiss her.

"I love you," he told her before kissing her again.

"I love you, too," she replied.

"Mr. and Mrs. Winchester, you are the parents of a beautiful baby girl," a nurse said, walking over with the baby. "Ten fingers, ten toes," she said, placing the baby in Isabella’s arms.

"Hello, beautiful," Isabella cooed, a few tears falling from her eyes. "Samantha Christine Winchester, I am so happy to finally meet you."

"Hey, princess," Dean muttered when Isabella handed him the baby as Sam and Sarah knocked on the door before entering the room.

Sam walked over to Dean and clapped him on the back before looking down at his niece.

"This is your geek Uncle Sam," Dean introduced. "I thought it’d be funny to name you Samantha because I could call you Sammy, too. That way, I can watch him make the face he does when he’s annoyed. But it really just looks like he’s constipated,” he finished conspiratorially.

"If it weren’t for the baby, your ass would be on the floor right now," Sam told him.

"Yeah, right," Dean countered. "Bitch."

"Jerk," Sam replied.

"Sam, we better go," Sarah said, walking over. "They all need to get their rest."

"See you tomorrow, munchkin," Sam said, kissing the baby’s forehead.

"Congratulations, Dean," Sarah said, reaching up and kissing his cheek.

They both waved good-bye before heading out the door.

"Your mommy is an incredible lady, she’s saved my life more than once," he told Samantha, looking up to smile at Isabella who moved over enough so that Dean could get back up on the bed. He handed her the baby and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Just so you know," Dean continued in soft tones, "I’m going to scare off any boy that you try to bring home. Eventually your mom and aunt will gang up on me, and I’ll give in. Your uncle and I, though, will still be waiting on the porch with shotguns for good measure."

He was silenced by a poke to his ribs from Isabella.

"Shh," she hushed. "We’ve got a whole lifetime to go before we get to that."

Jared Padalecki & Jensen Ackles Icons; Various

2008-01-09T04:52:31Z

[40] Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles Icons
[20] J2 Icons
[10] Jared Padalecki Icons
[10] Jensen Ackles Icons

Preview:

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***1 was inspired by this post created by missyjack.

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Jennifer Morrison & Jesse Spencer Icons; InStyle Wedding 2007

2007-07-07T06:19:48Z

Jessifer = too cute for words.

These are simple, but don't mistake simple for not-hard work put forth. I didn't particularly want to take away from the cute nor the schmoop.

[10] Jessifer Icons

[10] InStyle Wedding 2007

Preview:

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;; Photos found at spencer_daily
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Jennifer Morrison Icons; Various

2007-05-25T09:56:48Z

[35] Jennifer Morrison Icons

[2] GQ magazine
[3] 2005 Billboard Music Awards
[12] 2007 FOX All Star Party
[12] 2006 Emmy Awards Arrivals
[6] TV Guide Outtakes

Preview:


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;;Pictures provided by house_daily, jmo_daily, and Jennifer Morrison Online
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Upcoming Projects

2007-04-29T00:38:27Z

Really only for my reference.

> Jensen Ackles (in progress)
> Jared Padalecki

> Jesse Spencer
~~> Jennifer Morrison (in progress)~~
> Lisa Edelstein (in progress)
> Hugh Laurie
> Wentworth Miller

> "Lines in the Sand" (House)
> "Words and Deeds"
> "One Day, One Room"
> "Insensitive"
> "Needle in a Haystack"
> "Half-Wit"
> "Fetal Position"
> "Act Your Age"

> "In My Time of Dying" (in progress) (Supernatural)
> "Bloodlust"
> "Playthings"
> "Heart"
> "Hollywood Babylon"
> "Folsom Prison Blues"
> "All Hell Breaks Loose, Pt. 1"
> "All Hell Breaks Loose, Pt. 2"
> "Bad Day at Black Rock"
> "Sin City"
> A Day in the Life of Jared and Jensen

> "The Man in the Mansion" (Bones)

> "Scary Sherry 2: Bianca's Toast" (Psych)

> "Enough Is Enough" (Grey's Anatomy)
> "Who's Zoomin' Who?"
> "Make Me Lose Control"
> "Losing My Religion"
> "Some Kind of Miracle"

> Lilo and Stitch
> Bring It On (in progress)
> Pearl Harbor

> Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around" music video
> Christina Aguilera's "Candyman" music video
> Kelly Clarkson's "Never Again" music video

Pearl Harbor

2007-04-28T22:34:33Z

ZOMG! I FINISHED SOMETHING!!

I might as well just state now that I hate Alec Baldwin with a firey passion. The fact that was cast as a HERO when he would so easily turn his back on his country really irked me. So there aren't many of him, lol.

I also have a tiny crush on Danny. Mostly because I walked into this movie a Ben fan and I walked out of the movie a Josh fan.

The idea to icon this movie popped in my head all the way back in December; December 7 to be exact. TNT was showing the movie and I'm 95% sure that I sat on my couch in an empty house blubbering like an idiot. Half of these were made while I was fighting with Paint Shop and the other half were made while I was (and still am) learning Photoshop.

Anyway.

[67] Pearl Harbor Icons

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Challenge Entries

2007-03-26T00:09:38Z

I've had a few challenge entries building up in Photobucket, and since none are current, I thought I'd post them. Some turned out exactly how I wanted and others not so much. And you can tell which ones I was fighting with Paint Shop with and which I was still feeling around Photoshop with. :/

Below are entries to grace_stillness (07 won third place and 10 won second place), bosworth_stills (01 won third place and 04 won mod's choice), huddy_lims, and houselims.

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5	6	7	8

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RULES
RESOURCES
WATCH

Make A Wish

2007-03-23T02:08:31Z

Title: Make A Wish
Characters/Pairing: Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Dr. Greg House; House/Cuddy
Word Count: 535
Rating: PG
Spoilers: 3x15, "Half-Wit"
Summary: Cuddy's thoughts as House's newest secret is revealed.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to David Shore, et al. No copyright infringement is intended, so please don’t sue me. I’m a poor college student who has no money anyway.
Author's Notes: Written for the hope prompt at house_las. All dialogue was taken from the transcripts found at clinic_duty.

Cuddy lay awake in bed as her thoughts raced.

He has cancer. He has terminal brain cancer. What am I going to do without him? What is the hospital going to do without him?

Her mind had focused on nothing else since she confirmed with Wilson. It frustrated her that she never picked up on his symptoms, blurred vision, headaches, nausea. Not that he’d shown any of the symptoms anyway. She still should’ve known.

The clinical trial in Boston would place a shunt in his brain to allow the medication to travel directly to his hypothalamus. Hopefully it will have some positive outcomes. That kind of surgery was dangerous, and if he had a negative side effect to the drug, would they be able to remove it in time to keep it from killing him? Hopefully.

Hopefully the good will outweigh the bad. The trial didn’t promise remission, but they hoped that they would be adding on years to these patients’ lives. Even two more years would be better than one.

How am I going to replace him? He’s the best diagnostician in this country.

Cuddy’s thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing incessantly. She covered herself with a robe and grudgingly got out of bed to answer the door. There was only one person she knew that would have the audacity to ring her doorbell at two in the morning.

"It’s the middle of the night," she muttered, opening the door. "You knew I’d be asleep."

House smirked at her.

"Phone would’ve woken you up just as much," he pointed out. "I can’t see what you’re wearing over the phone."

Cuddy sighed and rolled her eyes as she stepped back to allow him to enter her home. He immediately started babbling about his current case; Takayasu syndrome, seizures, and the idea that a hemispherectomy could increase the patient’s functioning.

"What does the father want to do?" she asked tiredly. She had stopped being surprised by House’s insane ideas a while ago, mostly because his insane ideas usually worked.

"I don’t know," he told her.

"So go wake him up," she directed, standing up and ending their conversation.

As she turned off the living room lights, House lingered behind her in the dark. She sighed heavily and turned to face him.

"House, I’m so sorry," she said sincerely.

"Forgot I was dying, huh?" he quipped lightly.

"I’m here," she affirmed. "If you need me."

"I need you," he mocked.

She smiled as he advanced and pulled him into an embrace. She had to stand up on her tip toes in order to hug him properly. She tried hard not to laugh out loud when he placed his hand firmly on her ass.

"One small feel for man, one giant ass for mankind," he proclaimed lowly into her ear.

Cuddy tried to not let her amusement show as she pulled away from him.

"Good luck in Boston," she said before walking back towards her bedroom. "Call the Make-A-Wish Foundation," she snapped without even turning around to see him begin to follow her to the bedroom.

Maybe things won’t be so different, she thought as she heard the door shut and lock behind him.

Baby Blues

2007-02-23T21:06:29Z

Title: Baby Blues
Characters/Pairing: Dr. Lisa Cuddy
Word Count: 339
Rating: PG
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: ...the hospital was her baby. It may not laugh at her silly faces, and it may not rely on her. But for now, it would do.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to David Shore, et al. No copyright infringement is intended, so please don’t sue me. I’m a poor college student who has no money anyway.
Author's Notes: Written for the fantasy prompt at house_las

Cuddy smiled and cooed down at her infant son who she held in her arms.

He was her miracle baby.

She reached out and gently caressed his round, chubby cheeks with her fingers. The little boy reacted by kicking his legs excitedly and reaching out to grab a hold of her hand and put it in his mouth.

She laughed as she pulled her fingers from his mouth and ran her fingers through his downy hair instead. His bright, brown eyes followed the movements of her hand until it was out of sight and he popped his own tiny fist into his mouth instead.

Cuddy moved from the chair that she was sitting in down onto a blanket spread out on her living room floor. She laid the baby down on his back as she continued to make nonsensical noises at him.

He giggled and squirmed from her touch as she tickled his tummy and his ribs.

She laughed along with him; nothing in the world sounded more beautiful than her baby's laugh. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead before moving lower and blowing raspberries on his plump tummy.

He laughed harder as he scrunched up his body, bringing his knees toward his chest. His little hands grabbed at the fine curls of hair at her temples as he continued to squirm from her touch.

Cuddy looked back up at him from his tummy and nuzzled his cheek. Nothing could beat this moment with her son; nothing could take this moment away from her.

"Dr. Cuddy?"

Images of big brown eyes, round cheeks, and pouty pink lips dissolved back into Cuddy's subconscious.

Cuddy looked up from the legal pad that she was doodling on to discover that the Chairman of the Board must have asked her a direct question.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Could you repeat that?"

For now the hospital was her baby. It may not laugh at her silly faces, and it may not rely on her. But for now, it would do.

Scarlett Johansson; Disney Ad Campaign

2007-01-29T06:36:41Z

I saw these photos for the new Disney campaign in USA Today, and I just loved them. so_typically_me asked for icons of Scarlett Johansson as Cinderella, so I helped deliver!

017. Truth; Something More

2007-01-28T12:38:32Z

Title: Something More
Characters/Pairing: Dr. Robert Chase, Dr. Allison Cameron; Chase/Cameron
Prompt: 89. Chase decides to find out how Cameron really feels at duerbp and 017. Truth at housefic50
Word Count: 1,912
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: 2x07, “Hunting”
Summary: Exactly what the duerbp prompt says.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to David Shore, et al. No copyright infringement is intended, so please don’t sue me. I’m a poor college student who has no money anyway.
Author's Notes: Comments make me smile! :)

Chase had decided that there was a downside to having one night of unbelievable sex. Fantasizing about said one night stand always led to problematic situations at work. What made it worse was that Cameron had essentially promised that it was never going to happen again.

"You’re doing it again," Foreman’s voice chided through his reverie.

"What?" Chase asked, deciding that it would be best to play dumb.

"I think you’re trying to burn her clothes off with your eyes," Foreman laughed, turning his attention back to the sample he was viewing through the microscope.

Chase looked from Foreman and back to Cameron who was on the other side of the lab and two layers of heavy glass.

"I’m not—I’m just—I wasn’t thinking about—oh, bollocks," Chase protested weakly, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Chase looked back to his colleague, hoping that he would now spout off some eternal advice on how to woo Cameron into changing her mind.

"Just talk to her. Ask her to dinner; have a conversation about something other than autoimmune diseases," Foreman stated matter-of-factly.

"But I’ve asked her out before..."

"That was before you saw her naked," Foreman interrupted.

Chase thought about what Foreman had just told him; he had to admit that Foreman did have a point. Knowing Cameron, she had to feel some sense of obligation to him now that they’d had sex, regardless of how noncommittal it was, and it was time that he used that to his advantage.

Chase was doing extra rounds in the NICU when Cameron walked up to him and irritably threw a plain envelope at him.

He snatched it from the air before it landed in the bassinet of the infant that he was checking on. He handed the envelope back to Cameron as he removed the gloves that he was wearing, mentally preparing himself for the tirade that was sure to come.

"You’re joking, right?" she asked incredulously, waving the card in his face as if he hadn’t seen enough of it already.

"Nope, not a joke," he replied nonchalantly, looking at her directly in the eye before moving on to the next bassinet.

"You want to take me to dinner to discuss our relationship?" she asked, using air quotes around the word relationship. Her hands were now on her hips with one foot tapping petulantly.

He chose to ignore her as he finished checking the vitals of baby Sarah and signing her chart.

"Chase," Cameron continued, "we don’t have a relationship."

She used those blasted air quotes again.

He turned around to meet her gaze, and tried not to feel as cocky as he wanted to at the moment.

"Oh, but I think we do, Allison," he spoke softly into her ear, his voice dropping in pitch and his accent thickening.

He was so close to her that he felt a shudder run down her spine in response to his warm breath against her skin. He gave her a satisfied smile as if the involuntary reaction backed up his claims of a "relationship."

With that, he breezed past her and out of the NICU without as much as a backwards glance.

Chase fidgeted nervously in his seat at the restaurant while he waited for Cameron. He should’ve insisted that he pick her up and that they arrive together. He knew he should’ve picked her up.

All of his earlier self confidence was long gone. It was easy to be glib and arrogant when you’re only talking about something. It was completely different to remain that way when you’re facing the situation head on.

He had no idea what he was going to talk to her about. Should he just jump right into the reasons why he thinks they should try some sort of relationship? Should he make small talk first? And if he went the small talk route, what do you talk about without being clichéd?

"I’d offer you a penny for your thoughts, but I imagine that I’m going to hear them anyway," Cameron said as she walked up to join him.

Surprised by her sudden appearance, Chase jumped up to pull out her chair, nearly knocking his over in the process.

"You’d think that you’re 16 and on your first date," she teased, smoothing her skirt underneath the table as he sat back down across from her. "It’s just me, Chase."

"That’s the thing, Cameron, it’s not just you," he told her, looking at her intently.

She was saved from saying anything when the waiter approached to take their drink order.

Awkward silence hung in the air after the waiter had walked away.

"So," Cameron began, but trailed off as she searched her mind for something to say. "How are your NICU rounds going? Any interesting cases?"

"No shop talk," he told her.

He watched as she studied him for a moment and he wanted to curse when he saw he expression soften the same way that it did when she was about to deliver a bad prognosis.

"Chase, look," she began before he cut her off.

"Wait. Let me get this out before you turn me down," he said, fidgeting with his napkin and not quite looking her in the eye.

All Cameron did was give him a slight nod and waited for him to continue.

He finally met her gaze; cloudy blue eyes meeting dark grey ones.

"I know we said that anything more than a one night stand would complicate our lives unnecessarily, but I figured that something should be done, even if it is just getting this out in the open," he began.

He studied her gaze for a moment, and seeing no change he decided to continue.

"Are you ready to order?"

Blast.

Chase fumbled with his menu, unsure of what to say.

"Could we have a few more minutes, please?" Cameron asked.

After the waiter walked away, they studied their menus in silence; quickly deciding what to have before the waiter returned. He came back a few minutes later and they placed their order. Chase glanced around the crowded dining room. Hopefully waiting for their meals would allow for enough time for him to get this all out. He let out a deep breath before continuing.

"I know we said that something more would complicate things, but I can’t stop thinking about that night," he told her. "I’ve never been able to decide if I should feel used or if I should feel as if I used you. You were intoxicated. I should’ve said no and walked away."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to silence her.

"On the other hand, though, why me? Did you call me thinking that I was some kind of playboy that wouldn’t say no?" he asked.

This time he waited for a response. In truth, why she had called him and not House or some other man in her life had been nagging at him for a long time.

"First of all," she began softly, "you didn’t use me. I remember egging you on pretty well. I might have been high, but I did know what I was doing."

"So why me?" he asked again, dreading her answer.

"I have to admit that I did call you because I had a feeling that you wouldn’t say no, but it wasn’t because I thought you were some sort of man whore," she told him, cringing at her choice of words.

He didn’t say anything, but continued to look her in the eye. He was surprised to notice that she hadn’t looked away from him either.

"I called you because I remembered that you were attracted to me," she admitted.

"So you did think that I was some kind of easy lay," he interrupted.

"No, you didn’t let me finish," she said, looking at him pointedly. "I called you because you were sincere in your attraction. You took the time to ask me out for a drink rather than making glib remarks about what I would look like in low-rider jeans."

"So you called me to make House jealous?" he interrupted again, feeling a bit more used than he had before.

"No," she said firmly. "Will you shut up and let me finish?"

He cowered a bit in his seat, looking at her sheepishly.

"You made me feel special instead of making me feel like I was nothing more than a pretty face," she told him, reaching across the small table to rest her hand on his forearm.

He opened his mouth to argue, but he quickly closed it again at her warning look.

"It’s a bit hard to explain," she admitted. "Knowing that you were attracted to me and also knowing that you wanted to take the time to get to know me outside of work made me feel exceptional; it’s that kind of feeling when you find out that the cute boy in class really likes you."

"I actually have no idea what it feels like to find out that the cute boy in my class really likes me," he joked. "You think I’m cute?"

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you’re alright to look at," she told him, smiling.

"Where does that leave us?" he asked, noticing that she still hadn’t removed her hand from his arm.

"I still think that it’s a bad idea for us to try some kind of relationship," she said.

Chase finally broke his gaze away from hers in defeat.

"But," she said, giving his arm a squeeze so that he would look back up at her. "Just because I think it’s a bad idea doesn’t mean that it isn’t also one worth trying."

He brightened considerably, placing his hand on top of hers.

"Does this mean we’re officially seeing each other?" he asked, resisting the urge to mimic her air quotes from the other day.

"You could say that," she agreed, giving him a coy smile. "We should really keep it away from work, though. House would have a field day."

"Trust me," he said. "I won’t tell House if you won’t."

The rest of the evening was spent either in comfortable silence or in light conversation. Chase had insisted on paying the bill in full, despite Cameron’s protests. He also insisted on driving her home.

When they arrived at Cameron’s apartment door, she pulled out her keys and turned to face him.

"You really didn’t have to walk me to my door," she said, fiddling with her keys.

Chase shrugged. "Just doing my part to prove that chivalry isn’t quite dead yet," he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She smiled at that before looking away with a sigh. "I guess I should go," she said, hoping that he’d finally get the hint and kiss her.

"Yeah," he drawled. "I guess so."

She opened her door and turned back to look at him from the threshold to her apartment. Heaving a silent sigh, she raised herself up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. She broke the kiss and lowered herself back down onto her heels. When he stepped back towards her, she grabbed him by his belt buckle and pulled him into her apartment.

"Just so we’re clear," she said between kisses and shrugging off her coat. "I don’t want you to think that I’m some kind of tramp who puts out on the first date."

"I hardly think that this counts as a first date," he told her, shutting her apartment door with his foot.

Author's Note 2: Those of you who have seen the Will Smith movie Hitch know that a woman who pulls out her keys and fiddles with them is waiting to be kissed. So that's where that whole scenario came from. :)

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