People Skills
Got my drama exam tomorrow and I was thinking about it whilst reading fan fictions. The thoughts mated. The crazy thought baby was this. It was SO MUCH fun to write, so I seriously hope you like it. Oh, and the therapy probably isn't very realistic either, but there's nothing grossly inaccurate in there as far as I'm aware, and to be honest, this is only a little story, and it really isn't intended to be take too seriously.
Cuddy grinned happily to herself. Trapping House in a room with a therapist was one of the more inspired (and devious) things she had ever done. Without boring you with the details, the method of doing so had included candy, clinic hours, and cleavage; the three essential 'C's.
However, despite the pure genius of her plot, House didn't look happy. She wasn't surprised, neither did she care – she was about to get revenge for all the times he'd forced her into screaming into pillows when she got home in the evenings. He had tried insulting her, shouting, threatening actual physical violence, but she had simply smiled serenely at him, and he was now reduced to trying to stare her out.
When House realised that glaring was having the same affect as all his other ploys (i.e. none), he turned his attention away from Cuddy to the therapist. The man was very young, with looks reminiscent of those of Doctor Chase. The combination of his youth and ridiculous stripy shirt gave House the impression that intimidation and manipulation would not be too much of a problem once Cuddy left.
"So," started House slowly, "What are you here to talk about? The vicodin addiction? The resentment towards the crippled leg? The chronic commitment issues?"
The therapist tugged uncomfortably at his shirt. He was out of his depth. He should have charged extra.
"Actually, Doctor Cuddy just wanted me to work with you on your people skills."
House swung his head round and treated Cuddy to a truly superior glare. She chose this moment to make her exit.
"Right, House. I'm going to leave you in Doctor Phillips' capable hands. I've got Cameron covering your clinic hours, so you needn't worry about your patients."
"Well, that is a relief."
"You might want to start with the sarcasm, Doctor Phillips," noted Cuddy, turning towards the door.
"Actually, Doctor Cuddy," said Doctor Phillips, panicking slightly at the thought of being locked in a room alone with the man in front of him, "I was hoping you could help us."
The triumphant grin that had been playing on Cuddy's lips vanished in an instant. She was desperate for House to stop being so rude to patients, but she wasn't sure if she was desperate enough to spend an hour trapped in a room with him when he was this angry at her. Still, it didn't look like she had a choice.
"Okay." The small word came out riddled with reluctance and worry. She tried to ignore House's smirk.
"Well," said Phillips, his voice bright and cheerful now that he knew that anything that was about to transpire would do so in front of a witness, "Firstly, I don't think all this Doctor-ing is going to make our job any easier. Let's agree to first names. I'm Martin."
He looked expectantly at the other two. House was very pointedly ignoring him, and amusing himself with the handle of his cane, and Cuddy was trying to smile professionally, whilst in actual fact being less than happy at her required presence.
"I'm Lisa," she said. "And he's Greg," she added quickly, shuddering at the no doubt infinite comedy House could extract from such a small task, if left to his own devices.
"Okay. Now, we're here to work on Greg's interaction skills, particularly with patients…" The man could do with acquiring some people skills himself, thought Cuddy, already becoming irritated by his patronising tone. She looked over at House, who was persevering with his tactic of ignoring everything Martin said. She resisted the urge to smile at the vacant look on his face, and politely turned back to the therapist. "…So, in order to do so, shall we try a little role play?"
Martin dejectedly mused that he had not seen such a lack of enthusiasm since his little sister had, at the age of four, asked their father if he would like to try a slice of her compost "cake". However, he decided to keep talking. He had the feeling that anything would be preferable to silence.
"So, Lisa, if you would leave the room a minute and re-enter as a patient, it will be Greg's job to politely talk to and diagnose you."
At that moment in time, "Greg" was still carefully studying the handle of his cane, as though on it was engraved the very meaning of life. Cuddy, on the other hand, nodded and rose from her chair, making her way to the door. Once outside the room, she toyed briefly with the idea of fabricating some emergency and escaping, but she got the impression that if she did, whatever revenge House was planning would be even worse.
"Okay," she heard Martin call from inside the room, "You can come in again now, Lisa."
The room looked exactly the same when she re-entered, except she and House's chairs were now opposite each other, and there was a smile on Martin's face that told her that House had chosen to cooperate. However, there was also an evil smirk on House's face that told her that he had something incredibly annoying planned.
"Alright Greg, you start," said Martin.
"What do you want?" House asked Cuddy, gruffly.
"Ah," interrupted Martin. "Now, Greg, straight away, you're displaying aggressive behaviour, and the patient will be feeling uncomfortable. I'm going to ask Lisa to leave the room again, and when we try this again, you should try to be open and polite. Okay?"
House nodded, without a trace of sarcasm. The sight confirmed Cuddy's suspicions of an incredibly annoying plan.
Once again, Cuddy re-entered the room, and waited for House to speak. Instead of doing so, he walked over to the one window in the room, and opened it before turning to face her again.
"I am terribly sorry for ignoring you just now, madam," he said gallantly, "It's just that, as you came into the room, you brought with you a rather disgusting smell."
Rolling her eyes, Cuddy did not wait for Martin's instructions, and left the room. After taking a couple of deep breaths, she re-entered once more.
"Ah," said House, after a moment, looking panicked, "It's Horny Hilda – from the ad? I thought we agreed to meet at my apartment."
"Stop!" yelled Martin. "Look, Greg, this is your career we're trying to help. Clearly Lisa isn't planning on letting you out of here anytime soon, so why don't you try cooperating. It won't kill you to try!"
House turned to face Martin, regret, that could only be recognised as fake by Cuddy, etched all over his face. "Sorry. I guess I'm a little touchy about this. I've…I've never been very comfortable with people."
Martin looked as though the wind had truly been blown from his sails. "Well that's why I'm here. Come on, let's be serious."
House nodded solemnly. Cuddy was resisting the urge to laugh out loud at the show he was putting on. She couldn't confront him in front of Martin without looking like some kind of ogre. The poor man would have to learn the truth for himself.
"Lisa, if you could leave again, and come back in when you're ready."
She did so.
"Hello," said House, "How could I help you...?"
"My name's Sarah and I've been experiencing…stomach pains." She hadn't really thought up a specific illness, so she decided to go for a very broad, vague symptom.
"Alright. Would you like to take a seat?"
She checked the chair for pins before she took him up on the offer.
"How long have you been experiencing these pains?"
Cuddy glanced briefly at Martin. He was watching House intently, a relieved smile lighting up his face. She felt sorry for him.
"For a few months now."
"Ah, you shouldn't have left it so long to come and see me. Hectic lifestyle, I suppose?"
"Yeah, you could say that," replied Cuddy, growing more and more wary, the longer he was being civil.
"Okay, Sarah, I'm just going to listen to your heart now."
Cuddy frowned. Listening to her heart? For stomach pains? She looked again at Marin, but he was to busy beaming proudly to himself at a job well done.
"Listen to my heart?"
"Yes. Don't worry, it's completely painless."
"Okay," she replied slowly.
"So, if you could remove your shirt."
Cuddy could have sworn she heard an actual sob from Martin.
"Right, I give up. My advice, Doctor Cuddy, is to fire the man!"
And with that, he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Cuddy sighed, and silently (read: ignoring House) gathered the chairs up, and placed them in the corner of the room.
"Come on Cuddy. Aren't you going to talk to me?"
"No," she growled, "Because if I did, the therapist would be visiting me…in jail."
House simply smirked, and left the room, leaving Cuddy alone to muse how there really was no changing House.
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