Erotic Porridge

362 5 8
                                    

by elanev91

Lily Evans loved, bloody loved, being a doctor. Sure, the hours were shit, the patients could be right fucking annoying, the NHS never had enough fucking money, but at the end of the day, she loved taking care of her patients.

That feeling, though, is sometimes (usually) steamrolled by the stress that hits her the moment she walks into the door of her surgery at 630, a hour and a half before it opens, because she still has paperwork to finish from the night before, emails and phone calls to reply to, a schedule to check, and doublecheck, and follow-up calls to make for patients that she can't book in to see her in person.

She logged into the computer behind the desk at reception, knowing full well that Frank would kick her fucking arse if he came in and saw her at his computer again, to check who she was seeing today. Ugh fuck Mr Johnson tomorrow?! Okay, no Lily, stick to today. We'll worry about tomorrow tomorrow...

She's booked solid, as always, and fuck, Frank leaves early today, but she saw a name towards the bottom of her schedule that made her break into a huge, relieved smile. Euphemia Potter - 1600

Euphemia Potter was, without a doubt, Lily's favourite patient.

She was an older woman with a bad heart and the maddest grey hair you'd ever seen. She strolled into the surgery twenty minutes before every appointment, chatted with Frank, joked with the patients in the waiting area, and was the sweetest, sharpest person Lily had ever had the pleasure of treating. If she would start taking her bloody heart medicine, this whole situation would be perfect.

Euphemia had told her at their last appointment a few months ago that her son, James, was always on her about the medicine too, "He never stops fussing! Ever since Fleamont died he's been very worked up about my medication."

Lily reminded her that she should be taking her medicine, that her son had every right to worry, that he was probably just concerned for her and her health, especially after losing his father. Euphemia had waved it off, but not unkindly, "I'm getting old, dear. James is going to have to come to terms with the fact that I haven't got long left on this earth."

Lily reminded her that she would have a while longer if she took her medicine as prescribed - Euphemia just laughed, complimented her on slipping that message in one last time.

"You know," she'd said, as she gathered her coat and bag off the chair at the end of that appointment, "you should meet my son, James. I think you'd like him. And you're just his type." Lily had laughed, but her cheeks flushed in spite of herself, "Mrs Potter, I don't think it would be appropriate for me to date a relative of one of my patients."

Euphemia had laughed brightly, and Lily couldn't help but join her when she was laughing like that, "Who said anything about dating, Dr Evans?" She winked. Fucking winked.

Lily sputtered "Mrs Potter, I…"

Euphemia just laughed louder, "I'm just joking, love. You and my Jamesie would get married if you two ever met."

Lily didn't know what to say to that, so she just smiled and booked Euphemia in for a follow up appointment.

Lily logged out of Frank's computer and walked to the back of the building towards her office. She tossed her coat up onto the coat rack beside the door, set the electric kettle on, and took a few minutes to straighten up her office. She never had patients in here, was rarely even in here herself, but somehow her office always looked like a small tornado had blown through.

She finished tidying, made herself a cuppa, and sat down to flip through a few recent medical journals she hadn't had time to actually read yet. She was about halfway through an article about heart failure and community acquired pneumonia when her office door banged open. She jumped, sloshed tea all down her front, and heard laughter from the doorway, "Bleeding hell, Evans, someone is jumpy this morning."

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