Here is the next one in my one shot series. This one will be easy to guess, so I'm not even going to try to hide it. Emjoy this one, the next one won't be posted for a couple of weeks. I plan on doing it for the next Friday Night O/C Challenge on the Fox board. I will post it here once that's done.

HOUSE'S PATIENCE # 3

House and Wooster

Well, House thought, how boring would clinic be today? He walked into exam room 2 and saw a very tall man impeccably dressed in a black suit with a black bowler hat in his hand.

"Alright, Mr., uh, Wooster?"

"No, sir. I am Jeeves. Mr. Wooster is otherwise engaged at present in conversing with one of your nurses, I believe." The man spoke in a very refined British accent.

House gave him a look of slight confusion. "So who's sick? You or Wooster?"

"Mr. Wooster is, unfortunately, suffering from a slight malady. I am his valet."

"Well, I've heard that British valets do everything for their employers, but I'm really gonna need to examine him, not you."

"Yes, sir, I do understand. I believe that Mr. Wooster will conclude his discourse in due course."

House looked the guy over. He seemed to be in his forties, without a stitch out of place on his person.

"So how long have you worked for this guy?"

"I have been engaged by Mr. Wooster in excess of ten years, sir."

"Ten years? You don't want to do anything else?"

"Being a gentleman's gentleman is a long and noble profession, of which I am most honored to be a member, sir."

House couldn't imagine that. He didn't know if he'd be able to make ten years at PPTH. And he could avoid his employer most of the time. To work one on one with someone for that long?

"Why is he talking to the nurse?"

Jeeves sighed audibly. "I am loath to admit, sir, that Mr. Wooster is quite enamored of the female species and will exploit every opportunity to make the acquaintance of a young lady when it arises."

"Rich playboy, huh?'

"Precisely, sir."

At that moment, the door opened and a tall, slim man dressed in a tweed suit sauntered in. His hair was slightly graying, but his blue eyes twinkled as he surveyed the exam room.

"What ho, Jeeves? Is this the doctor?" He asked, directing the question to his employee, but looking House over as he spoke.

"Yes, sir, this is Dr. House. He will endeavor to ascertain the genesis of your ailment, sir."

"Right, then. Well, Doctor, I trust you can help yours truly to be back in the pink, so to say, in a jiff. After all, my friends depend on my knowledge and experience to keep all running spit spot."

House stared at the man. Jeeves smiled indulgently at the idiot who was spouting clichéd British phrases.

"Oookay. So what's the problem here?"

"Need a bit of a boost to the old physique, what?'

"What?" House asked.

"What?" Wooster asked back.

"You asked me."

"Did I? Well, anyway, been feeling not quite up to snuff of late. "

"Yeah, well, I specialized in snuff in medical school. But it would help if you could be a little more specific." House snarked. "Tell me exactly what's bothering you."

Wooster looked at Jeeves, who took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Wooster has, of late, been experiencing a considerable amount of fatigue, which has most recently been punctuated by shortness of breath. I suspect an acute case of chronic bronchitis.

House stared at the valet. "And you got your medical degree from where?"

Jeeves looked at the floor. "Quite right, sir."

"And stop calling me sir! It's Dr. House or just House, but you don't work for me, no need to do the feudal serf thing."

"As you wish, sir."

House glared at him and turned back to Wooster. He pulled out his stethoscope and put it up to Wooster's chest.

"Right-o, going to check the old ticker then, Doctor? I can tell you that the Woosters have always been made of strong stuff. Never sick a day in my life, well, except for the occasional result of late nights on the town, isn't that right Jeeves?"

"As you say, sir."

House looked at both of them. "Will you two shut up? How am I supposed to hear anything if you keep blabbering? You," he motioned to Wooster, "With all this inane talk. Are you capable of putting an intelligent sentence together? Oh, wait, first you'd need to have an intelligent thought in your head!"

And you," he motioned to Jeeves, "With all of your 'as you wish, sirs' and 'so you say, sirs.' What is this, the middle ages? Can't believe you can work for this guy! You seem to have a brain in your head, a good one. What the hell are you doing with him?"

Wooster, with a perplexed look, turned to Jeeves, who lifted his shoulders imperceptibly.

"Not sure what you're saying, doctor, but it surely takes the giddy biscuit and I can tell you, it's not the sporting thing to do at all." Wooster said, nodding his head after to punctuate his statement.

Jeeves sighed again. "Doctor, do you suppose that a sample of Mr. Wooster's various bodily fluids might aid you in ascertaining the cause of this malady?"

"Huh?" House and Wooster both said.

Jeeves addressed his employer. "Perhaps, sir, you should retreat to the young gentleman's retiring room and provide the doctor with that which is necessary."

"Oh, right-o," Wooster said, looking around, "You need yours truly to, uh, right-o."

House motioned to the small bathroom attached to the exam room. "Cup's on the shelf."

After Wooster had closed the door, Jeeves turned to House.

"Sir, I can understand your trepidation. However, it has been my duty and my pleasure to keep Mr. Wooster well cared for over the past years. A gentleman's gentleman is well trained to be a guide as the gentleman moves through the pitfalls of society. I am quite proud of my accomplishments with Mr. Wooster."

House stared at him for a moment. "You really like the guy, don't you?"

Jeeves smiled and answered, "Yes, sir. The tie that binds, sir, is, as they say, very strong."

Bertie Wooster opened the rest room door at that moment. He handed the cup filled with liquid to House. "Hope yours truly produced to your satisfaction, doctor."

"Right." House said as he took the cup and laid it on the counter. "I'll send a nurse in to get a blood sample. We should have the results later today or tomorrow morning at the latest."

"Right, then, doctor. We'll be waiting with tongues lolling and eyes bulging for the answer, what?"

"What?" House said.

Jeeves turned to House. "Sir, your efforts to aid Mr. Wooster in determining the cause of his ailments are greatly appreciated."

"Sure. Call tomorrow for the results."

"Right-o, doctor. Well, if you are finished with yours truly, I believe I'm going to ask that nurse to accompany me to the theater this evening. Toodle pip." And with that, he left the exam room.

Jeeves sighed and picked up his employer's coat, which had been left on the exam table. As he folded it neatly over his arm, House stared at the man.

"So you really don't mind working for that guy?" he said, tilting his head towards the door that Bertie Wooster had just gone through.

"No, sir. I find my work to be extremely fulfilling and satisfying."

"You could probably make a good living here doing a lot of other things."

"One's satisfaction in life is not always in direct proportion to the amount of compensation one receives."

House looked at him. Jeeves inclined his head and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

He was a really cool guy, House thought. In other circumstances they might have been good friends.

But Wooster? House thought that if he was ever as idiotic as that guy, he would kill himself. Ah, well, such were the foibles of clinic duty.