Mom's Little Parasite
A/N: Okay. Upon reflection, I realize that this first chapter comes off a bit harsh, and the patient is a bit unpleasant. House seems a bit out of character, too. The patient is just freaking out a bit from what's happening. Give chapter 2 a shot before you condemn it. I think the characters are closer to the show's intrepretion after the first chapter. Please let me know what you think.
House walked into Exam Room Three. A young woman fidgeting with the long arms of her sweatshirt went still as he met her widened eyes. "You are not Mr. Fitzburger," he eyed her up and down.
"I would be missing a rather crucial part right now if I was him," she gazed over his form with an annoyed look.
"Excuse me," he backed out the room shuffling over to the nurse's station.
"What idiot put a patient in the Exam Room where I already have a patient?" House mouthed off to a new nurse, who face was growing bright red fearing a standoff with the infamous Dr. House.
"I did, House," a calm, authoritative voice stated behind him. Dr. Cuddy stood beside him at the desk to finish filling out a patient's chart before grabbing the next one. On instinct, he leaned back and crooked his head to the right to admire her ass as she reached for another chart. Grunting in disgust, he realized that her lab coat didn't showcase her assets nearly as well as that tight blue skirt lying just beneath it.
He met her face to face launching into a rant, "I'm actually here in the sixth circle of hell where Jersey crotches come to die, and you have to throw another patient at me before I even finish tests on the first one. Did you come out here just to watch the cripple dance, Devil-woman?"
"House, I checked the log-in book, called the lab, and had the janitor check the men's room. There is no Mr. Fitzburger. I bet if I look in that chart you're carrying, it's empty," Cuddy glared up at him. A cruel victorious smile spread across her face.
"For once, I'm actually do my job. You're out here accusing me of . . ." he was cut off when Cuddy shoved another chart into his hands on top of the mysterious Mr. Fitzburger's file.
"You would sell Wilson and your team down the river if it got you out of Clinic hours. Next time don't name your patient after your lunch," she moved closer to him and whispered in a wicked tone, "Now, go dance." He watched her smile at the patient she called and warmly introduced herself as a lovelorn teenage boy followed her best asset to Exam Room 1. House grinned to himself, poor bastard. The kid had no idea that he was following a succubus into her liar. Huffing, House aboutfaced and headed back to face his own personal hell, a real patient.
"Ahh! The prodigal man returns," the woman frowned upon his return.
House scowled at her smarmy attitude. Great, first the devil. Now a bitch. Cuddy seemed to specially pick this one just to torture him. Hell, two can play this game.
"It's refreshing to know that women can still be bloodsucking harpies every month even when they're carrying their pimp's lovechild," he rolled on the physician stool holding her file.
"I couldn't help myself after he offered to let me keep an extra twenty a week. All I had to do was bend over the back of his Buick once a week," she snapped back as he came to a stop in front of her. He began to reassess the woman before him after hearing her response. He decided to see how far this little game could carry on.
He looked up at her with a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Don't underestimate yourself. You're worth at least an extra $30 a week," he finished reviewing her file.
"Judging by that idiotic grin on your face, I'm going to guess that parasite is alive and well," she sighed suddenly looking exhausted.
"Now, that's no way to talk about your future pimp or whore. I'm sure you could work another month or two before you have to lower your rates. Nobody likes to screw a fat hooker," he responded slipping on some gloves and pulling the ultrasound to the bedside, "Lift up your shirt." After smearing her belly with jelly, he zeroed in on the fetus and turned the screen to showcase it. He observed her as her eyes gazed on the screen and assessed her reaction.
"11 weeks along," she mumbled to herself before launching into a series of questions, "What is the heart rate? Is the size within range? Any physiological abnormalities?"
"Interesting," House handed her a cloth is wipe off the jelly as he pulled off his gloves in order to lock the image on the screen.
"What?" she asked with disdain filling her voice.
"Most women usually sit in there in awe staring at their parasite with affection. Others sit there afraid to ask where they can terminate their mistakes. You look for physical anomalies so you can get rid of it without disturbing your conscience," House scrutinized her questions.
She narrowed her eyes at him raising her voice, "You ass! Do you always make random assumptions about people? My brother was stationed in Afghanistan when his wife was pregnant. I went with her to all the prenatal appointments and sat with her as she gave birth. I know what the doctors tell expectant mothers. You still haven't told me anything."
"How did you know the fetus was eleven weeks?" he asked as his right eyebrow rose in curiosity.
"I asked questions when I sat through ultrasounds. Now answer my questions," she demanded.
"Let me guess. You grew up in the Midwest, near Chicago. Your Northwestern sweatshirt is new, so you only recently moved here. You're too old to be an undergraduate, so you're probably here to get a glorified piece of toilet paper in Lesbian studies. You left your college sweetheart back home. At least, you called him your college sweetheart. Because you are a good little Christian girl, you continued to screw the first guy that got you off instead of drinking and fucking as many people as you could. But your future was here while Joe Blow was staying behind to pursue the great world of entry level sales. Now, you're knocked up with the moron's child," House confidently revealed her recent history.
"Wow. Are you always so perceptive with your patients?" she asked as sadness covered her face.
"Personal gift. Don't forget to mention that the she-devil made me do it," he responded filling out two scripts. One had the number for another type of clinic. The other was a prescription for prenatal vitamins. He prepared to hand them to her and finish off the visit with a crowning insult that would have the woman in Cuddy's office in under a minute. House was unnerved slightly when he saw a devilish smile gracing her lips just before she started into a tirade. It was an oddly familiar sight.
"You, idiot! Congratulations. You deduced that I grew up in Chicago and wear a cross. My parents gave me this sweatshirt because they happen to be Wildcat fans. I went to the University of Chicago, where I drank more than enough to wake up in plenty of strangers' beds without remembering how I got there. The only reason my ass is in this cesspool of a state is to attend a conference. I'm pissed off that the dam birth control implanted in my arm is a worthless piece of shit. Plus the father isn't my pimp or some pathetic pasty salesman; he's my bitch. If you want to be political correct, he's my assistant. Now answer my questions," she raged.
"Way too much information," he complained, "Heart rate and size is normal. If you're worried about genetics, take these and ask your doctor for an amino. If you don't care, call this number and make an appointment. Remember to file all complaints with Dr. Cuddy." Raising from the stool, he rushed to the door satisfied that he had completed his commitment in the clinic that day. A taunting voice stopped him from rushing out.
"Why would I file any complaints?" the patient inquired sweetly. He turned back to the she-devil. Leave it to Cuddy to find a venomous, manipulative devil dog of the same breed as herself. If she went and complained to Cuddy, Cuddy would demand that he apologize and get out of her sight. More importantly, it would free him of his three remaining clinic hours. Firing up to tower over her and rain down a fury of insults, he was again cut off by the sickeningly sweet voice of his patient, "Let me guess. You want me to go and yell at your poor boss, who has to put up with your daily childish antics. If I go in her office screaming until my face turns green and starts spinning, she'll come out to you and demand you say that you're sorry. Then, she will let you go and hide in your office away from all the annoying patients. Try your crap with an idiot. I enjoy watching you suffer."
"What was your last name, again? Any relation to a Lisa Cuddy?" House opened the chart to read the patient's name.
"Just met Dr. Cuddy when she escorted me in. My name is Alicia Morrison. Remember it. Maybe you can get Dr. Cuddy to ban me from the clinic," she shoved past him in the doorway knocking him in the knee with the bottom of her cane. House suppressed the urge to shout 'Bitch' as she stalked away. His head cocked to the right as he admired her derrière. Definitely the same breed of she-devil as Cuddy. He frowned at the sight of the cane wondering how he missed that.
Walking up to the desk, he enjoyed the view of his favorite mountain range barely hidden away by black lace and blue silk. He searched the room looking to see if her prey had escaped or was eaten alive. Finally, he saw a red-faced sixteen year old walk precariously out of the exam room with his jacket strategically placed over the front of his pants. Eavesdropping on Cuddy talking to the nurse, House heard her order tests for various forms of STD's as she handed over a swap to be tested. He moved to side smiling a wide Cheshire cat grin, "You know that you're hell on wheels."
"Am I going to find another one of your patients in my office?" Cuddy sighed.
"Nope. My patients love me. Worship at my feet," House prepared to shout an off-handed comment about Cuddy, certain infectious diseases, and young boys. A loud clang and several gasps drew the attention of the room towards the door, where Alicia Morrison laid seizing.
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