A/N: Yes, I have finally done it. I wrote a Huddy Fanfic I finally felt worthy of putting up online. My other one isn't really like this one, or different though, so… well, if you don't understand then, get the hell away from me, gravity!
House is jealous. Well, there's something new. He's the jealous type, though. I mean- he never is, but he's the type that would get that way. Very fierce and opinionated… well; I was hopping about the fan forums and- THIS ONES FOR YOU, HUDDY FANS!
I hate, severely loathe, writing the beginning first few chapters. There torturous! And as a normal, real-life hopeful wanna-be writer, please note that I write completely different in fanfics and, if I ever publish it- buy it to prove it yourself! Yes! Pay me in future dollars! Anyways, this ones more centered on the Huddy more then anything, so… I also have some trouble with doing that, when half the time it's more one-sided. Lisa's a dating fool! Oh god I should really stay away from that kind of thing. Well either way, please, please enjoy lest I'm pushed to killing you, which I very well could do. Well now, finally, on with it! (Edit: I'm also trying to decide on which of two other Huddy outlines to take on so I can write two at once. It helps, really, because whenever I get writers block I can just shift to the other. Or bored…)
P.S.: I apologize to Jo, sincerely.
P.S.S.S.: And everyone else.
P.S.S.S.S.: And the readers, too…
P.S.S.S.S.S.: And because this chapter is only a quick introduction and doesn't explain or get you anywhere and proves pointless.
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Chapter 1- Hospitality
House's clock rung, softly, rising as he continued to keep his eyes shut in defense. He sighed, pushing himself up and messaging his leg with his left hand while helping himself to stand. It had been bothering him lately, more then normal. That happened now and then. Gregory House limped to the door of his bedroom, the quiet apartment remaining dark with most of the sunlight still dim. He had a unique living style, being clean and messy, and setting his clock at an odd number, and such. Being observant and decisive- not to mention completely blunt, sarcastic, and rude. A jerk, if you will.
He continued to limp towards his fridge, pushing it open. There wasn't much there, it was empty and cold. Very cold, actually, like a growing coldness seemed to push him away. He closed the door, and limped through his apartment as he dragged his leg as he walked, using furniture to help steady himself without his cane. He'd have to eat something at the hospital, even if going there early might make Wilson or Cuddy or someone go into shock. Leaning against his counter, favoring his left leg, he took a bottle of vicodin and popped a few pills. It was early, but he was in pain. He'd manage. He got dressed, taking a red t-shirt and jeans, with his red sneakers. Keep it simple. He got his black jacket, and left his apartment, stopping to take his cane. He felt more like taking his motorcycle then driving anyways. He approached his bike, meaningfully.
He went back to his hospital, parking his bike in the handicap spot he'd grown fond of over the years. He put his helmet back on the bike and detached his cane. He looked up at the hospital, as he walked up to the doors. It was big, very big… That was about as descriptive as he got when it came to his workplace.
"House, you're early." Wilson said stunned.
House just walked by, not up to a conversation with Wilson. Wilson was like having an overbearing conscious that always seemed to deny House of any pleasure or pain. He was almost as weak as Cameron, even. But not that bad… Wilson was also extremely predictable. House could manipulate him with Wilson willingly being toyed with. Yet he always was for the right thing. He was probably the only one House knew directly that wasn't extremely stubborn at the hospital. But you had to be, especially the men and woman under him. As Head of Diagnostics, they had to be able to support there opinions. Especially when he had them do all the actual work in his job, except now and then when they messed up and needed him to put up with it. Or rid him with guilt. Or argue that he isn't god, even though, well, he was the next best thing.
"Hey Jimmy." House said, getting out the two words cheerily before taking an elevator up to his office.
Wilson would track him down later and either accuses him of being a miserable manipulative bastard who enjoys making other people miserable, gossip, or give House another amateur diagnosis. He thought he knew House well, which was true, out of the people at the hospital, but House still managed to be insane and unpredictable.
He walked up to the glass walls of the meeting room where at a table Cameron and Foreman we're, apparently, discussing something. He knocked on the window and Foreman looked down, Cameron up. Out of his underlings, minions, whatever they were- he noticed that each one seemed to give him a different reaction. Foreman just laughed and was a stubborn idiot who just looked away and kept out of the basic discussion whenever possible. Cameron seemed to have this crazy idea that everyone needed to be healed, and she was there for healing purposes.
House walked around, pushing the door open and walked in, stopping at the head of the table. Cameron was sitting at the other end, looking over files, as was Foreman who was on the right side, closer to House. Both looked up at him, and there followed a cold, dangerous silence.
And, in the most cunning of action, House turned and left.
Cameron pushed the door open and walked up to House, extending the file for him. He just kept walking and she followed, jabbing him lightly in the arm with it.
"Stop," she ordered.
"No." He retorted.
Ah, such basic and lovable conversations they had. She was like the sister he never had. Let's have an 'Awhhh' in sentiment.
"You have a new patient. His heart can skip a beat, literally."
"Are you sure it wasn't love?" House said, mockingly.
Cameron looked up at him, either perplexed or annoyed, though which he couldn't place. He looked back at her expectantly, then forward again and walked, focused now on getting somewhere.
"House, where are you going?"
"To kill a bagel, why?"
"Patient," Cameron said, flatly.
"Food," he stated, decorating they word with determined desire.
"You can eat later."
"You're not my boss. Didn't your parents tell you there are people in China that get paid less then minimum-wage?"
Cameron stopped, and looked back at Foreman as he walked out. House wasn't happy until he had breakfast. Coffee was good, too, but he didn't have the same attachment and dependency to the drink that some women often possessed. He was early, though, they could wait until he was late to give him patients. Jimmy probably ratted him out. That would cost him at least two marks on the totem pole. He eventually returned with a bagel in hand to his office where Lisa stood, waiting. He limped in, and she stopped looking over his office and up at him directly, her head tilted to the side, arms crossed.
"Do you ever even do any work in here?"
"No, I just play with my ball all day and plot to throw government agencies."
"I know you do that, but what do you do when you aren't busy with that?"
"Well I'm trying to invent my own language for when I become dictator. Why?"
Lisa sighed, shaking her head. He wouldn't answer any question she asked anyway, it didn't make any sense to keep talking at him. House knew that, but for some reason no matter how hard he tried to convince her of it, she still kept asking him things. It always messed up his defense in court.
"Okay, just forget about it. I have some paperwork you have to fill out stacking up. It's important."
"JAKICHII!" He shouted.
Lisa rolled her eyes, her arms falling down to the side as she took a step back. She hadn't even been over to his office much in the past. Though after the carpet incident she didn't really care to… whatever emotional attachment he had to the blood stain from when he was shot she would never figure out. She had tried to, but it didn't get her anywhere. House was consistent in stunning people. She'd learn to live with it eventually.
"House," she said sharply in a demand for silence. House opened his mouth to speak, and then stopped when some clever reply seemed to flail against it. He could only toy with her so much and vocally banter in one life time; he wouldn't waste all of it. Time is money, anyways.
"I have to go." House said, turning and limping towards the door. Lisa brushed past him at her faster walk, leaving his office after realization set in that she was, in fact, there. She'd have to wait to kick him out later. Damn it.
"Wait," She said, snapping as his attention drifted momentarily. "I need you to come by my office by four thirty. I'm leaving early tonight." She said. House frowned, his focus settling on her eyes cautiously. She looked particularly like she wanted to strangle someone. And he was already in enough pain. House waited, watching her as she walked away from his office. Huh. She had a personal life. Who'd a thunk it?
He returned to his desk, popping two vicodin.
Well, innocent children too harass. Lives to save.
Doctor stuff.
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ME!
Sorry for the shortness and… boringness. It's going to be slow, but it will improve… at least, from this. I hate, loath even, writing the first one or two chapters so they'll be short and not too… intense. Sorry. Oh, and feel free to comment or anything. I'm still new, sorry!
