"Butterflies and Hurricanes"
Chapter One: Another Day in the Neighborhood
Gregory House's Office:
The sun shone softly on yet another seemingly typical day at the Princeton/Plainsboro Teaching Hospital: doctors running around, machines beeping quietly, patients in need of diagnosing, and Dr. Gregory House enjoying the last few minutes of General Hospital. His leg was particularly sore today, so in a well practiced motion, he pulled a small medication bottle out of his front pocket, popped the lid, and slid a small white pill down his throat. With a sigh of relief, he propped his legs up on top of his desk and got comfortable, as he turned up the volume on his little handheld television.
Just then the glass door opened. House ignored it.
"Greg, seriously, there are about 5 patients out there waiting to be looked at. What are you doing?"
"You have to ask?" House replied, not even bothering to look up.
"Oh yes that's right, I forgot. Seeing patients is what doctors do... you'll excuse me for making the mistake. Must have been the M.D. after your name that threw me off."
The caustic nature of the remark lost its sting from the lack of conviction in James Wilson's voice. House reluctantly pulled his eyes from his show to acknowledge his friend, who was now standing in front of his desk, hands shoved in his lab coat pockets.
House sighed. Wilson was obviously not in a jovial mood today."I'm hiding."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "From what? Doing your job?"
"No, Cuddy." House replied absently, as his blue eyes slid back to the televison screen. There was just something so fascinating about these insipid day time dramas. Must be the half naked women, he thought.
Wilson examined him with a semi amused smile. Perhaps his day hadn't been so bad after all, he at least hadn't gotten himself in trouble with the Dean of Medicine. "Cuddy? What did you do now?"
House's head shot up. "Why does everyone think that it is something that I have done? You people are always discriminating against us poor cripples."
Wilson lifted his eyebrow and shook his head. He had no sympathy for House's whining.
"Fine. Cuddy told me to meet her in her office. And since I got paid yesterday, and she isn't going to ask me on a date, then it can't be anything good. So I'm hiding. She's mad at me, because I pissed off Vogler again."
Wilson shook his head again. Some things never changed."Good God House. Again? Anyway, last I saw her, Dr. Cuddy looked pretty pleased to me."
House shrugged and then looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well then, perhaps she is going to ask me on a date. Ladies can't resist cripples. We're like puppies. Something to soothe their mommy instinct."
"House. That's perverse. Besides, I hate to burst your bubble, but I just saw Cuddy leave a few minutes ago." Wilson said, while trying to hide a smirk.
"Oh well in that case, I'm leaving too." House brought his feet down with a thud and grabbed his cane. He tossed the small television in his desk drawer and then got up and limped past Wilson. Pausing at the door House looked expectantly at him. "Well?"
"Greg, there's still 5 more patients out there," Wilson repeated.
House made a slight face, and popped another pill. "The kids are here. That's what they are being paid for. It's 5 pm. Time to go home."
Wilson finally smiled and shook his head for the third time in 5 minutes. "I don't know why that even surprises me anymore Greg. Alright let's get out of here."
The two of them finally made their way out of the hospital, albeit at a rate that had been about 5 times to slow for House's liking. James had insisted on saying goodbye to practically everyone and having a chat with them as well. Alright, maybe it had just been one person, House thought reluctantly, but he had flirted with half the nurses.
The oppressive heat of the day was finally cooling off in the waning light of the setting sun. House slowly walked over to his beautiful red Corvette that a mob boss had just recently given to him, House liked to think he lived a little on the wild side, and he gave a small nod as Wilson drove off in his sensible little Toyota. With a car like that, House thought, no wonder James was on his third wife. No imagination at all. Shaking his head once more, he slid into his car, and revved out of the parking lot, with thoughts of good whiskey and a Bach cantata running through his mind.
Back in the hospital:
Dr. Robert Chase was throughly pissed. House had left them high and dry with several patients again. It was now 6:30 and he was ready to go home. Fuming, he made his way toward the lab.
"Cameron," he yelled down the hall as a pretty brunette came into view. Allison Cameron turned and walked toward him, pulling off the stylish dark framed glasses perched on her nose and rubbing her eyes wearily with one hand. She held a plastic bag containing a vial in the other.
"Yes?" She asked, looking utterly fatigued.
"Where's the chart for the patient in room two?"
"I put it on the door. She's the last one. Foreman finished about ten minutes ago and I just finished mine. I was just going to place this specimen in the lab for testing tomorrow and then I am going home as well."
Chase shook his head with irritation. Great. Everyone was done, except for him."I can't believe House left early again when he knew there were more patients."
"He's been here since 6 am, he deserved to go home," Cameron shot back quickly.
Chase refrained from rolling his eyes and instead shot her a warning look, and at the sight of it Cameron shut her mouth into a tightlipped look of displeasure. He was too tired to listen to Cameron defending her knight in shining armor again. God, when was she going to get over that schoolgirl crush of hers? It had gotten especially bad after the two of them went out on that stupid non-date date to the Monster Truck rally. At the time it had struck him as quite amusing, but now he could see that it had sent the wrong messages to Cameron. She practically glowed at the sight of him.
"We've been here since 6 am too, remember?" He reminded her sharply. Then he sighed, feeling a little guilty at the sight of her slightly hurt expression. Cameron was a nice girl, and she meant well, he knew. "Listen, sorry. I'm tired. Give me your specimen and I'll run it to the lab for you okay?"
Allison smiled, small dimples showing as she handed the plastic bag over. "Oh thanks Chase. See you tomorrow okay?" Without waiting for an answer, the pretty brunette turned and practically ran toward the office space the three of them shared.
Chase watched her go with a slightly frustrated look on his face. He really wished that it was he that was running out the door right now. Renowned fellowship or not, he was seriously ready to be finished with his day, and at times like these, finished with this job. With a shake of his head, he turned and walked toward the glassed in Lab that he and the others frequented often.
Strolling down the airy hallway, hands and specimen crammed into pockets, he daydreamed about how pleasant it would be to go back to his hometown of Sydney in Australia and soak in some warm rays. It would be pleasantly warm this time of the year, and high waves to surf on. He absently wandered into the lab, head still full of golden sand and turquoise waters as he turned to tell the technician present to place a sticker on the bag so that the specimen would be processed the next day.
Instead he stopped short in surprise, struck momentarily speechless. The normal white coated technician he had expected wasn't there, rather some stranger stood with her back to him, carefully inspecting one of the brand new, extremely expensive centrifuges the hospital had just gotten in a few months back. What the bloody hell!
Chase stood there, his mouth slightly open in shock as he examined the unwelcome intruder. The girl's dark hair fell in shiny lengths to about half way down her back, and her slender form was clad in a black t shirt, and a knee length hippie looking black skirt, and were those pink Converse she was wearing? Dear god! How had she gotten in here?
"What are you doing in here!" Chase spat out aggressively, finally recovering his voice.
The woman turned around, and Chase was once again dumbfounded. It was a young girl. A pretty girl, but a girl nonetheless. She couldn't have been more than 18, with the exotic look of a mixed background and the most striking hazel green eyes. How had a patient managed to get into this room? Not that he really cared how. All he cared was that she got out, and she got out now, before his ass was in trouble. His day was getting worse and worse.
"Like I said before, what are you doing in here?" Chase repeated, aggravated. "You're not supposed to be in here! The waiting room is just around the corner. Please remove yourself from this room, and go back and wait your turn. I won't even bother to tell you how expensive the equipment in this room is. God, I am going to kill whoever let a patient wander around in here. Leave. Now." He noticed somewhat absently, that the girl's shirt featured the logo for the band Radiohead, one of his favorite bands of all time.
The girl listened to his tirade quietly, but her pretty features tightened in anger as he finished. Without a word of acknowledgment, she turned and stalked out of the lab, her skirt swishing slightly. Chase stared after her feeling completely frustrated. Whatever idiot had allowed her to get past security was going to get in trouble with Cuddy, he would make sure of it. If anything was damaged, he was going to strangle House, for leaving him with this mess.
He stormed out of the lab, his mood darkening as he realized he still had the patient in room two to attend to. Would this day never end? He paused in front of room two and impatiently brushed his long brown hair out of his eyes, and with a deep breath, he plastered on a false smile, and entered the room. A harried looking mother and her obnoxiously overactive young son were waiting impatiently for him.
"What seems to be the problem?" Chase asked politely.
The boy who looked to be about 4 or 5 would not sit still. Chase stole a look at the chart. Jason Black was 4 years old and 7 months old. God, he hated kids. Jason kicked his grass stained and muddy little sneakers against the side of the examining table as mucus dribbled down his nose.
"He's running a fever, and he's got a terrible cough." The mother said, looking more tired than Chase felt. Than to prove her point, the little boy let out a deep throat rattling cough that sprayed the front of Chase's white lab coat with green mucus. Great. So there was a way for this day to get worse. He hadn't thought it possible.
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" The mother squeaked. "Oh please, let me help!" She reached over with a napkin pulled from her purse and proceeded to smear the green mess over the rest of his coat. Seriously. Kill him now.
"No, no ma'am." Chase said hastily, almost slapping the woman's hands away before she made an even bigger mess.
She nodded with worry, but bunched the napkin into her hand and sat back. Chase quickly examined the boy, wanting desperately the whole time to just finish as soon as possible.
"Is it serious?" The mother asked anxiously, as Chase finally finished.
"Just a cold ma'am. I'm prescribing a simple antibiotic alright? Here take this to any pharmacy and get it filled. He's going to be just fine."
He forced more smiles, as the mother ushered her son out the door and profusely apologized once more. Leave lady. Just leave.
"Nope, don't even worry about it. Alright have a nice day. Bye now." Chase shut the door after them with a huge sigh of relief. Last one. Done. He made his way down to the office and gingerly removed his white coat and tossed it into a biohazard can. He could get a new one tomorrow. He was in too much of a rush to even care. He grabbed his sports coat from the coat rack and with a shout to the nurses at the front desk, ran out the front door.
He glanced at his watch. 7:15 pm. Not bad, Robert. Not bad at all, he thought happily. Still plenty of time to run over to the bar and meet up with some old friends. However as he slid into his shiny black convertible, threw on his sunglasses and peeled out of the parking lot, the image of two hazel green eyes uncomfortably danced around in his mind.
A/N: I couldn't resist writing something. I love House, and I hope that I'm doing justice to David Shore's amazing show, and its equally amazing writing... Enjoy... I'll post again soon.
