Title: Dr. Happy and the Two Interns
Author: Alice J. Foster
Summary: House suffers from a bad case of priapism.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): House/Cameron relationship, Wilson, Cuddy, Foreman, Chase—i.e. no Team 2.0.
Category: Humor.
Spoilers: None.
Rating: PG-13
Started: 04/16/2007
Finished: 04/30/2008
Author's Note: As you can see, it took me a little over a year to finish this story… I always struggle with humor fics, and I never think they're funny enough, so that's part of the reason why it took me so long—so when you read it, please allow me to take you back to happier times, after Tritter and before Chase… and please don't forget to tell me what you think.
†††
"Absolutely not!"
"House!"
"No."
"You're in pain."
"I'm always in pain," House continued to argue within Cameron's small car as he popped two more Vicodins.
Cameron sighed as she stared at the CDC buses and personnel, walking around the outside of the only other hospital in Princeton.
This was not a good time for an outbreak of viral meningitis.
Next to her, House grunted in pain again before the punching of her dashboard recommenced… he was probably going to end up causing the airbags to deploy, and that wasn't going to help matters any. If she tried to warn him, she'd get the same glare she'd been getting for the past hour – the 'you don't understand' glare.
"That's it, we're going – I'm not driving you into Newark just for anonymity's sake; there could be permanent damage by then."
The pain was probably past a 10 at that point, because this time he didn't argue.
†††
Foreman was finishing up his notes on a chart when he heard a familiar voice shouting.
"I'm not filling out any goddamn forms!"
"Doctor House, you know better than anyone that we cannot admit you for any treatment unless you fill out the necessary forms," a very patient nurse insisted.
"Get me Cuddy," he demanded, then seemed to rethink the situation, "I mean anyone but Dr. Cuddy."
The nurse apparently gave up and went to grab the pager list.
"House?" Foreman stared surprised at his boss, who was in a wheelchair clutching his jacket in his lap.
Foreman's surprise as he noticed his female co-worker standing next to the wheelchair, blushing as she held House's cane.
"I…" she started to say, "he called for a ride, and I--"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," House interrupted her, rolling up to Foreman. "Can we please move--"
"What is wrong?" Foreman asked, but the only answer he got was House's face contorting in apparent extreme pain.
"An exam room, Foreman. Now," Cameron demanded and Foreman motioned for them to follow him.
†††
"Ten hours?!" Foreman asked in horror.
House nodded as Cameron helped him onto the hospital bed. He could smell the sweat on her skin from before, and wondered if Foreman could smell it too, but the blinding pain kept House from worrying too much.
"I have to ask, House…" Foreman said worriedly, as he stole a glance at Cameron. "Did you take any ED meds?"
"What?! No!" House denied vehemently. "No—it just— just give me something for the pain, okay?"
"Well, I need you to tell me exactly what you're taking before we start treatment--"
"Treatment for what?" Wilson interrupted as he entered the room.
"Uh…" Foreman started to say.
"Priapism," Cameron whispered from her spot as she helped House into a hospital gown.
Wilson's face was stuck in shock for a few seconds, before he burst out laughing.
"Great, laugh at my pain, go ahead. I knew I shouldn't have had that nurse page you," House mumbled.
"It's serious," Cameron admonished. "He needs treatment ASAP."
"What did he take?" Wilson asked, glancing over Foreman's shoulder to try to read what the fellow was writing.
"Why does everyone think I took something?" House asked in disdain.
"He didn't take anything," Cameron insisted. "I think it could be related to his leg, he said it's been bothering him a lot for the past few hours."
Wilson glanced at the young doctor-- who was most definitely not scheduled to work today. He observed the intimacy between her and House as she took his blood pressure reading… and most importantly, House didn't look embarrassed that his beautiful subordinate was standing a mere two feet away as he sported a massive—well, let's just say House wasn't embarrassed.
"I mean… did you try, you know… uh, any attempts at manual release?" Wilson asked uncomfortably.
House glared at the oncologist. "No, I never had an erection before, so when it popped up I decided to drive myself to the nearest hospital so I could be the talk around the watercooler for the next three months."
Wilson smirked, and then watched as Cameron blushed deep red.
"House, why did you refuse to fill out the admittance forms?" Cuddy asked, walking in with her eyes glued to a clipboard.
"Good god, is everyone here on a Saturday?" House groaned from his bed.
"Oh… my… God!" Cuddy exclaimed when she looked up from the forms and directly at—it. "What did you take?"
"Nothing," Cameron answered for House, and then went back to blushing when Cuddy glared at her. "I just… He needed a ride, so--"
Cuddy interrupted her, "I don't really care right now." Then, turning to House, she added, "You have five seconds to tell me what you took, what dosage and what count."
House's lips were closed tight but it was probably due to the pain he was in.
After the five second count was up, Cuddy sighed, "Just give him morphine. I have some calls to make."
†††
"House!" Cuddy yelled as she returned to the hospital room, slamming a clipboard on his foot.
"Hey!" Cameron protested, "He's in pain already!"
Cuddy crossed her arms as she glared at House, ignoring his younger fellow. "You thought you were so smart; haven't you learned anything about self-prescribing drugs, House? Did you forget how much trouble you got into last time?"
"I didn't self-prescribe anything," he argued, smiling from the morphine.
"Maybe not literally, but you wrote and filled a prescription for Sildenafil for the coma patient on 309—two days ago."
Cameron was the one to hit him this time. "House!" she chided.
His eyes rolled from his buzz. "I didn't think this would happen," he countered. "Obviously," he muttered from the bed.
"You should've said something!" Cameron snapped at him. "I've been worried sick for almost seven hours—I mean, since the time you called…" she trailed off uncomfortably, too upset and scared to realize her slip until it was too late.
"Relax, Dr. Cameron," Cuddy said, almost empathically. "I'd say the cat is pretty much out of the bag."
"What cat?"
†††
Chase had been called in for optional overtime at the ER for the weekend until the outbreak at Mercy had been contained; several doctors, interns and med students had been treating the higher-than-usual volume of patients, and Chase had expected a busy but mostly uneventful day.
Until he heard one of the nurses talking about the big mess Dr. Gregory House had gotten himself into this time, and how he'd been an ass about filling out his forms.
Chase was able to quickly locate House, figuring the diagnostician had probably had an overdose…
"What cat?" Chase asked as he entered the densely populated hospital room.
"Why is everyone here?" House asked in annoyance.
"Meningitis outbreak over at Mercy," Chase explained, not sure why everyone looked slightly uncomfortable, especially Cameron.
"We saw," Cameron added weakly from her spot, next to House's bed.
Chase wondered what the hell she was doing there without her labcoat—and were those sweats she was wearing? Along with a University of Michigan t-shirt that looked about three sizes too big… definitely strange, but Chase's attention quickly moved from Cameron's attire to House's—problem.
"Jesus!" Chase jumped slightly.
"Dr. House is suffering from what looks like low-flow priapism," Cuddy explained.
"Where's that morphine?" House groaned from the bed.
"On its way," Cuddy replied curtly, as she poked House's vein and drew blood none too gently.
"Easy there," House complained. "Little warning next time?"
"Shut up, House."
Chase flinched as the latest order had come not from the hospital administrator, but from Cameron—Chase could understand Cuddy angry at House, but Cameron? Now that was interesting.
†††
Foreman had always had a myriad of emotions when it came to Gregory House, but empathy was a new and surprising emotion.
The kind of pain House had to be in was more than Foreman would've wished upon even his worst enemy. Add to that a pissed off girlfriend--or whatever Cameron was to House—and Foreman definitely felt bad for the guy…
…. until House opened his mouth, of course.
"Do we seriously need five doctors to treat a simple case of priapism? At least get me an urologist—I wouldn't want a pest control expert dealing with a faulty pipe system in my house," House complained.
"Unlucky for all of us, none of the doctors who came in today are urologists," Cuddy replied caustically as she administered morphine into his IV drip. "Your pipe, however, isn't big enough of an issue to warrant five of our best doctors treating it, so you get to pick who you want handling it."
House cringed, and then sighed. "Fine, I pick Cameron."
Cameron shook her head. "Oh no, you got yourself into this mess, I'm not helping you this time."
Burn! Foreman was barely able to keep from laughing.
"What happened to 'do no harm'?" House pointed out to Cameron.
"I won't be doing any harm as I walk to my locker, change into some scrubs and help out downstairs… and you can get someone else in this room to treat you."
As Foreman watched Cameron leave, he had no idea the hospital room was about to become the set for a short game of Survivor.
"Wilson, I wouldn't trust you with a kitten, let alone my penis, so go remove jelly beans from toddlers' noses."
Wilson snorted as he walked out of the room. "It's wonderful to hear you say how much our friendship means to you, House."
House's attention quickly turned to Cuddy. "I'm in terrible pain but in full control of my brain, so there's absolutely no way I'm going to let a doctor who hasn't practiced medicine in years treat me… plus I remember how you handled my infarction, so I'd like to avoid having you suggest hacking half of it off to save my life."
"Good, because I don't want to be anywhere near your penis," Cuddy pointed out as she left.
"Sure, she says that now, but you two should've seen her fifteen years ago," House joked as the morphine started take obvious effect. "Guess I have you guys left as my options… which one of you do I trust to treat House Jr.?"
Foreman rolled his eyes, secretly wishing he didn't end up winning this elimination round.
"And I pick…" House mimicked drums, "Foreman!"
"Thank god," Chase murmured, and then as he turned to leave, he clamped a hand on Foreman's shoulder. "Best of luck, mate."
Foreman was pretty sure he was going to need it.
†††
Wilson watched from across the empty nurse's station as Cameron angrily shook a pen that refused to cooperate. After a few minutes, she threw it on the desk and reached for another from a cup.
"Don't be so hard on yourself," he said in a low voice as he approached her.
"I'm not being hard on myself," she sniped back at him.
"Yes, you are," Wilson added softly.
"I just don't understand why he would think…" she trailed off, distraught. "I don't know if it was something I did, or something I said, that would make him think I was in any way unhappy."
Wilson sighed, because House could be such an ass sometimes. "It's not something you did, or something you said," he began to explain.
"How do you know?" she asked with a small pout.
"Because I know you, and more importantly, I know House; anytime any of his relationships start going well for a steady period, he starts to find faults in himself and then he blows it out of proportion. In your case, he's probably obsessing over the age difference, and trying to overcompensate for it."
"That's ridiculous!"
"It's House," Wilson pointed out.
Cameron seemed a little appeased as she finished making notes on a chart. "How do you know things have been going well anyways?"
"I knew he had to be seeing someone, I just didn't know who until today. And he hasn't come to me, complaining…" Wilson explained. "If things had been bad, he would've been in my office weeks or months ago. Instead he hasn't come to bug me, my patients are enjoying private consults that are actually private, and I can worry about my own life... I guess I have you to thank."
Cameron snorted sarcastically, "Gee, you're welcome."
Wilson smiled before he walked away.
At least her mood seemed to have improved.
Cameron returned to House's hospital room after Foreman left.
When she saw the icepack on his crotch, a pang of guilt at her earlier snap started to creep up, but she tried to fight it… she might not be as angry anymore, but that didn't mean he was completely out of the water.
"How're you feeling?" She asked from the doorway.
"Like shit," House replied, voice hoarse like sandpaper.
Sighing, she walked over to his bed and sat next to his good leg. "Good, you should feel like shit," she pointed out.
"I'm sorry," he whispered so low she would've missed it if she'd still been by the door.
Cameron was pretty sure it was the drugs talking. "What did they give you?" she asked as she took his hand in hers—just to make sure the IV hadn't moved or anything.
"Morphine--that took the edge off, but the intracavernous injection was a bitch… at least it's gone… I never thought I'd be so happy to be flaccid" he mumbled. "I think Foreman was impressed by Dr. Happy and the Two Interns… he might even be jealous of you," House joked.
Cameron rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure Foreman was thrilled."
"He was, he's even making me stay overnight, just to make sure the little blue pills are out of my system, and that the erection-from-hell doesn't return," House added. "And I'm not allowed to think sexual thoughts."
"So I guess I shouldn't point out I'm not wearing any underwear under these scrubs, should I?"
"You are an evil, evil woman," House groaned. "I'm glad Foreman gave me a sedative, or I would have to send you far away from here," he added drowsily.
Cameron smiled at him, before reaching down and touching her lips to his cheek. "I don't want you to change anything about yourself," she added softly against his ear, before pulling back. "Promise me you'll never take anything like that again."
"Never?" House winced. "What about when we're really old and the doctor retires? Well, when I am really old, and you're a hot MILF in your forties… how about then?"
Cameron laughed, slightly surprised that House was bringing them up in a future context, which neither of them had ever done before. "If that happens, then you can talk to me or Wilson, and we can write you a prescription if needed, ok?"
House nodded as his eyes started drifting shut. " 'k, I promise…"
"Good night, House," Cameron whispered as she turned off the light above his head and pulled the blankets over him, intending to go back downstairs and make herself useful.
"Really sorry," he whispered softly before he started snoring.
Yeah, it was probably the drugs that were making him so apologetic, but Cameron forgave him nonetheless.
the end