"We all have a weakness / some of ours are easier to identify…"
The soft acoustic sounds of Incubus startled my slumber. Look me in the eye / and ask for forgiveness…We'll make a pact to never speak… I opened my eyes and felt my head start to pound. I felt around for Spencer, but all I found was an empty bed. I turned over to shut off my iPod when I heard the voices—talking about me.
"…Yes, I know, I'm worried too. Well, what can we do? She's—hmm? I guess…" Muffled sounds, then, "Alright, thanks Wilson." I heard her hang up the phone and make her way back to my bedroom. I feigned sleep.
She sighed and slid into bed right next to me. I pretended to wake up just then. She smiled. "Morning, sleepyhead." She kissed my nose.
I grinned. "Morning," I said, returning the kiss. Our lips lingered for a few seconds. I started to get where it was going just as my phone rang.
"Dammit," I muttered, sliding off her to reach for the phone on the nightstand. I looked at the caller ID—it was House's office. I let it ring a few more times before I answered it.
"It's 13," I said, feeling Spencer place open-mouthed kisses on the back of my neck. I had to bite back a moan.
"Remy, get down here." It was Kutner. I glanced at my watch; it was almost two.
I shrugged Spencer off and replied, "Okay, be there in a few." I turned around, facing my girlfriend. "I have to go to work. Sorry." She looked disappointed.
"Okay…" she said, pecking my lips before lying back down on the bed.
After my shower I threw on some clothes and make-up. Spencer was asleep so I just kissed her forehead and walked out the door, grabbing my messenger bag on the way. On a normal day, it'd take me ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops to get to work. But with my inevitable luck, of course it took me forty-five minutes. Which in House time is about an eternity and a half.
I finally drove up to the familiar parking lot and went inside through the Clinic. I was greeted by Cuddy. Either she was going to harp on me for being late, or…something to do with House most likely. It's always about House; I've learned that.
"Hey," I said as I stopped right before her. The look on her face told me the matter was serious.
"Where have you been?"
"What do you mean? I'm here now, aren't I?" I put a confused look on my face.
"Yes, good job. But where have you been the last twenty-four hours? You've missed a good half of your case." She looked disappointed in me. A little part of me died.
"Let's see…last I knew, it was my day off. I sent it through House…did you not get the memo?"
"Nice try. You and I both know House doesn't do paperwork. And like he'd ever give you a day off." She grinned. She caught me.
"Well, the way I see it, I should probably get to the office as soon as possible. I'd hate to miss one of House's misogynistic and immature schemes. Shall I?" I brushed past her and got to the elevator. She didn't care about me; she wanted in on House. Everyone knew she was in love with him. It wasn't subtle at all.
I walked into the office just as House blurted out something about women and Mexicans. I'm sure I would've had to be there to understand it fully.
"Ah, Girl Who Goes Both Ways, you're late. To what do we owe this honor of your gorgeous appearance? Out late again? With Spencer?...ah, Spencer. We remember her," he said, throwing his infamous ball up in the air and catching it just in time. "She's the lucky one right? The one you pillow fight with in your underwear?" He popped a few Vicodin.
"Snarky as usual I see." I sat down next to Kutner and nodded to him. I grabbed the case folder and skimmed through it, glancing at the board. Written there were a few symptoms, some smiley faces, and several arrows and doodle marks. I threw out auto-immune; House shot it down with a few symptoms and snarky comments. Kutner tried cancer—Taub replied with carcinoma. Both were shot down again from House. He mentioned HIV, so we went to test the patient for that.
On like that it went: we'd do the tests and go back to the office, because the tests proved nothing. House would make a few metaphors, string together some racist and/or sexist comments, then we'd run some more tests. That's how it was with House. That's how it would always be with House. The day rushed by in a blur. When House mentioned something about a kidney floating, we knew he hit his epiphany. It turned out that the patient had Nephroptosis, "Floating Kidney." Taub left at around eleven that night. Kutner mentioned going to a bar after work, but I shook my head and said, "Spencer." He understood and left.
I was packing up my things when I noticed House standing, looking at me.
"Need something?" I asked him. I wasn't in the mood for this.
"No, I'm just standing looking at you. Please, continue." He popped a few more Vicodin; I saw him rub his leg, if only for a moment.
I shrugged and put my messenger back over my shoulder, walking out the door. He grabbed his cane and shut the door, keeping me from opening it. I huskily turned around, half-angry, half-curious as to what he had to say. "Yes?"
"Where were you?" he asked, cutting right to the point.
I shrugged. "Busy. Didn't know I had to have a cover story." I decided to leave it at that and opened the door. I managed to get out to the hall when he yelled, "Whoa, hey, ho, where are you going? I'm not done!"
I went back and looked at him. "What do you want to know, House?" I stared him in the eye until he smirked.
"The next time you miss a case, you're fired." He spun around and cane-walked back into his office. I didn't take it seriously, of course. It was just House being House. I knew he needed me.
I got to my car and dialed Spencer's number. She answered right away.
"Hello?" she said.
"Hey. What's up?" I asked, hoping to get home quickly as I was close to falling asleep.
"Not much. Listen, we need to talk."
My stomach turned. "About?"
She paused. "Us."