Don't ask questions! I know realistically this wouldn't be happening, but screw reality! This is just one of those fun, silly fics (see "Boredom Battle" if you would like an example, haha) that don't have to make sense.It's three-thirty in the morning and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. You know I actually got up out of bed to type it up? And I know, it's only short. And this A/N probably isn't making much sense, so I'm going to post this and go to bed.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own House, or Cuddy, or Wilson, Or Cameron, or Chase, or Foreman. I do own Dr Dumbbell and the peashooter.
Cuddy took the position behind her office desk and peered at the people who were congregated there.
House took pride-of-place on one couch, with his legs occupying any free space so no one else could join him in his extreme comfort. Cameron was positioned on the couch opposite him so she could sneak looks at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Foreman and Chase were also squashed onto that couch; with Chase 'accidentally' brushing against Cameron so often Cuddy was amazed the woman wasn't suffering carpet burn. Foreman was too squashed to do anything, and Wilson was stuck with a boring old seat by her desk and was clearly pissed off about it.
She decided to cut to the chase. And fast, as House was becoming bored.
"We need help." She blurted. "Psychological help."
Foreman looked smug, Wilson was still pissed, Chase looked frightened, Cameron blinked and House was constructing a peashooter from an old biro and a tissue.
"I've booked us all in for a session with a Doctor… Dumbbell" Cuddy continued, consulting a business card. House giggled evilly through a mouth full of soggy tissue.
"Usually psychological help is optional," She said, expertly dodging the wad of wet tissue that zoomed her way, "but this time you will have no choice." She paused for a moment, waiting for some kind of response from her employees.
Foreman nodded emphatically from his hiding place behind Chase, who was pulling soggy tissue from his hair. Cameron was too busy trying to fish it out of her breasts to bother replying, and Wilson remained focused on the wall behind Cuddy as his back was peppered with balls of sodden tissue.
"And I don't doubt for a second you know the reason for our need for psychological help." Cuddy added through clenched teeth, staring pointedly at House. House pretended not to hear; instead he carefully aimed his peashooter once more at the small opening in the front of Cameron's blouse. Cuddy could have sworn she saw Cameron discretely widen the opening while staring innocently out the window.
"We start on Monday." The Dean of Medicine sighed.
Please review! I can't make any promises concerning the next chapter. But I can say there will be a chapter for each doctor's session with the psychologist. I think Foreman will go first. No promises, though. Review, please! It's fuel to my creative flame.
