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waldos_writingsFive Times John and Carson met outside of Canon.
Title: Just an Old Football Injury
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
smallwaldo
Words: 529
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None, is AU
Pairings: Beckett/Sheppard
Summary: Carson can't seem to keep his balls straight.
As a fourth year med student, Carson was getting really good at taking a patient’s history and vitals. And unlike his classmates, he rarely groused about what they termed ‘nurse’s work’.
When the casualty – he had to stop and correct himself – emergency department got busy he even got to help out on the ‘real doctor work’.
Such was the case when a rainy night produced a large number of car wrecks and other accidents.
“Carson, football accident in two!” his attending yelled as he ran down the hall to another room.
Carson grabbed the chart from the desk and wandered into the exam room reading over the preliminary notes. When he got the foot of the bed he looked up to find a rather good looking young man wearing a ridiculous amount of equipment and even more ridiculously tight pants. “I’m sorry, I thought they said there was football injury in this room,” he started to back out.
“Yeah, that’s me. Wait – you’re accent – you’re English right?”
“Scottish, yes,” Carson answered warily.
“Welcome to the States, Doc,” the kid said. “On this side of the pond the long pointy one is a football. The black and white one is a soccer ball.
Carson ran his hand through his hair. “Right, of course. Sorry
“You know they really should let you interns sleep more than six hours a week,” the kid said.
“I’m Carson Beckett. I’m just going to get your vitals and some information.”
“I’m John Sheppard. But then again, you probably know that… because it’s probably on… that chart.” He seemed to peter off as he realized he sounded kind of dumb. He didn’t want this doctor-guy to think he was dumb.
“And for what it’s worth, I’m not an intern yet. And it’s the residents who never sleep. Well, usually. I think I’m on my third straight shift. We just never seem to slow down around here.”
“That’s gotta suck. And I thought our First Class Cadets were assholes for waking us up at the butt-crack of dawn. At least we’ve gone to sleep before hand.”
Carson took his wrist and began counting his pulse. “Cadet, eh? Army?”
“Air Force,” Sheppard put in. “So,” he looked down at the pressure bandage over his football pants. “Am I going to walk again?”
Carson peeked under the bandage to see that the bleeding had apparently stopped. “Oh, aye, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance of that.”
“But not too soon, right?”
Carson could tell that he was angling for something. “Too soon for what?”
“Well, you see, I’m supposed to walk these penalty tours tomorrow…”
“What did you do?” Carson asked as he pulled off the blood pressure cuff.
“Stuck up for a new kid when one of the First Class guys was being an asshole.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“With my fist.”
Carson laughed. “Will a week on crutches be long enough for them to forget? And do we need to look at those knuckles too?”
“Will it get me out of a Military History Test on Monday?”
“Depends on how much damage there is.”
“You’re going to be every kid’s favorite doctor, you know that?”
Title: Just an Old Football Injury
Author:
smallwaldoWords: 529
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None, is AU
Pairings: Beckett/Sheppard
Summary: Carson can't seem to keep his balls straight.
As a fourth year med student, Carson was getting really good at taking a patient’s history and vitals. And unlike his classmates, he rarely groused about what they termed ‘nurse’s work’.
When the casualty – he had to stop and correct himself – emergency department got busy he even got to help out on the ‘real doctor work’.
Such was the case when a rainy night produced a large number of car wrecks and other accidents.
“Carson, football accident in two!” his attending yelled as he ran down the hall to another room.
Carson grabbed the chart from the desk and wandered into the exam room reading over the preliminary notes. When he got the foot of the bed he looked up to find a rather good looking young man wearing a ridiculous amount of equipment and even more ridiculously tight pants. “I’m sorry, I thought they said there was football injury in this room,” he started to back out.
“Yeah, that’s me. Wait – you’re accent – you’re English right?”
“Scottish, yes,” Carson answered warily.
“Welcome to the States, Doc,” the kid said. “On this side of the pond the long pointy one is a football. The black and white one is a soccer ball.
Carson ran his hand through his hair. “Right, of course. Sorry
“You know they really should let you interns sleep more than six hours a week,” the kid said.
“I’m Carson Beckett. I’m just going to get your vitals and some information.”
“I’m John Sheppard. But then again, you probably know that… because it’s probably on… that chart.” He seemed to peter off as he realized he sounded kind of dumb. He didn’t want this doctor-guy to think he was dumb.
“And for what it’s worth, I’m not an intern yet. And it’s the residents who never sleep. Well, usually. I think I’m on my third straight shift. We just never seem to slow down around here.”
“That’s gotta suck. And I thought our First Class Cadets were assholes for waking us up at the butt-crack of dawn. At least we’ve gone to sleep before hand.”
Carson took his wrist and began counting his pulse. “Cadet, eh? Army?”
“Air Force,” Sheppard put in. “So,” he looked down at the pressure bandage over his football pants. “Am I going to walk again?”
Carson peeked under the bandage to see that the bleeding had apparently stopped. “Oh, aye, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance of that.”
“But not too soon, right?”
Carson could tell that he was angling for something. “Too soon for what?”
“Well, you see, I’m supposed to walk these penalty tours tomorrow…”
“What did you do?” Carson asked as he pulled off the blood pressure cuff.
“Stuck up for a new kid when one of the First Class guys was being an asshole.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“With my fist.”
Carson laughed. “Will a week on crutches be long enough for them to forget? And do we need to look at those knuckles too?”
“Will it get me out of a Military History Test on Monday?”
“Depends on how much damage there is.”
“You’re going to be every kid’s favorite doctor, you know that?”