A/N: First time doing House fanfiction. May start out a little slow but it'll get better.
Disclaimer: Not mine…
You're On FireBEEP…BEEP…Groaning immediately at the sound of the alarm clock she rolled over swiftly to pound on the 'Snooze' button. Smiling inwardly at her ability to temporarily stop the incessant noise she promptly rolled over onto her back, her eyes refusing to open. Stretching involuntarily her tired body across the bed she began rubbing her eyes in a futile attempt to wake up as the smell of coffee drifted through her open door. Staring at her ceiling fan through slitted eye lids she contemplated the idea of calling in sick. As it was she rarely rook a day off and the bright sun peeking through the curtains of her windows, sending promises of a beautiful September day.
Rolling towards her nightstand where her cell phone was located she jumped as her alarm clock again began its call. Groaning in defeat she felt blindly for its electrical cord and jerked it from the wall, the noise dying instantly. Moving to sit on the edge of her bed she stretched again before walking slowly to the kitchen where the coffee was waiting for her.
A half pot of coffee and steaming shower later she stood in her room, clad only in underwear, debating on her clothing choice. His face promptly entered her mind, his intense blue eyes scanning her body as he did every morning, rendering her speechless until he finished his task and took the coffee she always had extended to him. Every article of clothing she had bought in the past year had been judged by him first, at least in her mind's eye. Force of habit, she had once explained to herself, a half-hearted attempt at fooling herself. With his face however came the memory of their date, the night she had allowed him to break her heart.
Pulling a light blue button down and dark blue Tommy Hilfiger jeans on she reached for a pair of socks and pulled it all on, grabbing her new white Adidas tennis shoes from the floor and a hair clip. Back in the bathroom she did her hair and dabbed on the little make up and perfume she frequented. Giving herself a once over in the full body mirror located on her closed bathroom door she decided on a silver chain dangling from the sink, placing it around her neck. Again she checked herself out, straightening her hair slightly and smiling at herself. Unbuttoning the top two buttons of the button down to reveal the cotton wife-beater, accenting the slight tan that she had somehow received from her runs during the hottest part of the summer. Her jeans looked snug and comfortable, her shirt fit her perfectly, (her bust feeling pleasantly larger than they really were with her flat stomach). Her tennis shoes were something she contemplated on for only another moment before deciding that they gave her a comfortable yet professional look.
Making her way through the kitchen she filled a Dixie To Go cup to the brim and grabbed her cell phone from her room before finding her keys, locking up and heading out to her car.
Her first order of business, as always, after stepping into his office was to sort mail. She sat comfortably in his chair finishing her coffee and making two separate piles of it. Throwing the junk mail away she left the remaining for him before heading into the conference room where she began the coffee. Taking a seat she waited patiently for the coffee to brew. Upon completion she walked to the counter where she readied two cups as Foreman stepped through the door. Grabbing their lab coats from the rack in the corner they exchanged possessions, wordlessly thanking one another as Chase came through the door. Pulling on his lab coat he immediately sat and placed his head in his hands.
With one look it was obvious he was hung over and after pulling on her lab coat she selfishlessly set her coffee before him, an immediate mumbling of a barely audible "Thanks" being his only response as she prepared two more cups of coffee. "Good morning ducklings!" He barked as he pushed the glass door open with his cane. Chase jumped and winced in pain to which Foreman only chuckled and rolled his eyes. Throwing a case file on the table House wasted no time in getting down to business. "Twenty year old. Male sex. Claims he can't hardly walk and his having muscle spasms." He said simply, allowing Chase and Foreman to look through the file.
His attention then went to his favorite duckling who was approaching slowly with coffee. Beginning with her hair he takes her in, slender neck (thanks to her pinned up hair), her protruding chest (pleasant surprise), flat stomach, tight jeans that showed off her muscled little legs, and finally her shoes…tennis shoes. He does an immediate double take at the sight and she doesn't fail to catch it. Same routine, different day.
"Could be early stages of Parkinson's." Foreman offered to which House gave no reply.
"He's twenty!" Chase exclaimed.
"His file says that he has a history of dystonia and uncontrollable shaking and since when does age take president to a disease?" He replied.
"It's just unlikely, look at all his past symptoms. It's not Parkinson's." Chase sneered. Their voices faded dully into the recesses of his mind as House finally took in her wife beater, eye level with the coffee she had extended to him. Forcing himself to grab the coffee he intentionally covers her hand to grab the coffee. Feeling her gasp slightly he brings a slow glance to her before giving an approving nod. Shaking her head in dismay at how stupid she allowed herself to be she watched him hobble over to the whiteboard and begin writing as she took her seat. Sipping her coffee and ignoring the boys arguing she took this time to eye House's blue jean clad ass. 'Very nice.' He turned to face them, catching Cameron as she whipped her head too quickly, a pain shooting noticeably through the side of neck to which she bit her lip in pain and hid her face.
Smirking at the sight House redirected his attention to the other ducklings. "What's wrong with him?" He asks simply.
"Simple case of spasticity, treat him and send him home." Chase offered, dropping his argument with Foreman.
"Did you even notice his night blindness or the fact that he has trouble walking?" Cameron asked, holding her neck somewhat casually and glancing temporarily at House as she stated the last symptom before peering back at the whiteboard behind him.
"Still could be Parkinson's, just more advanced than I thought with first glance." Foreman stated.
"And House would have snatched the case because…" She trailed.
"Yeah dawg." House snickered, pulling out his PSP and taking a seat at the end of the table beside Cameron, completely ignoring the temporary glare Foreman shot at him. "Think ducklings think." House stated, not looking up from his game.
"It could be a brain disorder." Cameron offered. "Brain failure could explain his blindness, trouble walking, shaking…"
"Now you're on to something." House replied with a raised eyebrow as he paused his game. "And I thought you were an immunologist." He snickered. "Maybe you and Foreman should switch fields. Run an MRI on him. Look for any abnormalities, swelling…anything that would result in the loss of his body functions." They stood at his request and headed towards the door before halted. "Foreman. You think you can run it without the neurologist for a minute?" He pointed to Cameron as if Foreman were stupid. Rolling his eyes he followed Chase out the door as Cameron readied herself for whatever the hell he wanted.
"Well done grasshopper." House stated, pulling himself up from the table and grabbing his game and cane. She glanced at her feet nervously and replied.
"Thanks. I think." She met his gaze finally to see an approving stare there.
"You're done sorting my mail." He stated, rather than asked.
"Yes." She replied, thinking she saw a momentary flash of disappointment in his eyes before his sarcastic gaze returned.
"Alright. Go help ghetto and pretty boy before they send the guy home with the flu." Exiting together he headed into his office as she continued to the elevator. Once inside with the doors closed she asked aloud. "What the hell was that?"
A/N: Review. Be gentle, yet critical.