2.
House ignored the first few clangs against his office door. Gaze set upon the game module clutched in his curled hands, he continued clicking away in spaced silence.
"I can see you're in there you know," Lucas shouted from the other side of the glass sheets that stood from ceiling to floor.
"Saving the universe," House replied, the tip of his tongue poking out from the corners of his mouth. "Come back later." He unfurled a fingertip, pointing at a plain sheet of paper taped lopsidedly against his door that read in scrawled chicken-scratch: "Aliens attacking. All interruptions will result in unwanted probing and possible impregnation."
"Yeah well I'm coming in," the scruffy private investigator said as he pushed forth the heavy door with a bit of a moan. House sighed significantly, tossing the small beeping piece of electronic machinery against the fabric of his backpack that was placed upon the floor just below. The machine's screen faded to dark and the soft whirring of data and visual stimulation ceased at once.
"You clearly didn't read the sign," House muttered gruffly as his pale blue eyes scanned his intruder. He lifted his chin in a brusque nod. "Who's that?" he questioned, referring to the smaller figure behind his familiar guest.
"Alien impregnation isn't really a big concern of mine," Lucas said with a faintly amused grin. "Besides, say it happens – who doesn't want little green kids? It's like having your own leprechaun farm."
"Yes, well it's the probing that really gets you." House snapped sarcastically as he craned his neck in an attempt to peer around the sedentary man. "Either you've grown another set of legs or you're simply ignoring the fact that I asked who was behind you. And since I don't see any other signs of genetic mutation, I'd love to know why you doomed the galaxy to an untimely fate just to not introduce me to whomever it is you're hiding back there."
"Rigby, come here." Lucas tugged at the thin fingertips grasped within his hands, pulling the unknown figure closer.
"You weren't kidding," pealed a girlish female voice. "He is an ass." A small head of dyed strands of dark hair popped out from behind the detective. Her nose shriveled at the sight of House's withering glare. "And scary too."
"What is this? Take your daughter to work day?" House sneered, though vaguely intrigued as he watched the young woman return his doubtful yet defiant stare. Lucas broke into harrowed bursts of awkward laughter, his cheeks flushing three shades darker as he shook his head fervently.
"Daughter?" He continued to laugh, though in such a way that made House cringe. "That's funny, really." Lucas bit his lip, nervously shredding the soft pink muscle and tender skin as he did so.
"I gathered that from your ever so pleasant reaction," House muttered sardonically, his mouth tightening as his eyes delved into two small slits.
"I'm a friend," Rigby interrupted as she suddenly leapt out from behind the investigator. With a steady stride she stopped before the small wooden desk, extending her hand toward House's. "You won't shake it, I know. But I'm doing this just to be polite." Immediately she retracted her hand, crossing her arms against her chest lightly as she eyed the sour faced man.
"And you're here because?"
"We had lunch with Lisa today. He wanted me to meet her." Rigby's eyes were a sullen grey shade, yet they felt as though daggers piercing House's skin as she studied him.
"I meant my office. Why are you here in my office?" House snarled miserably. Rigby shrugged, her petite shoulders rising and falling fast.
"Beats me. It was Lucas' idea. Ask him."
"Fine," House barked in reply, his face lifting swiftly to face the room's third occupant. "What on earth would possess you to think I could care less about meeting your other half of slumber-party Tuesday's?" Lucas' face was blank and unresponsive. Rigby however, snorted beneath her breath.
"Idiot. Everyone knows Friday night is slumber party primetime. That way your nail polish isn't chipped when you hit the clubs looking for a man to sex you up. Right, Lucas?"
"Right," Lucas mumbled dazedly, his eyes unfocused and darting back and forth. Sweat was beginning to trickle along his brow and his fingertips twitched uncomfortably. He blinked furiously, licking his lips. Rigby's arms dropped to her side as she tilted her head towards the right.
"Lucas?" House inquired.
"Lucas? Are you okay?" Rigby added with the greatest concern, her voice sweet. She reached for his arm, holding onto his wrist as she gave it a nervous squeeze. House rose slowly from his seat, the palms of his hands flat against his desk as he held himself steady. Lucas' lashes continued to flutter heavily as perspiration began to pool around his features and skin. In a matter of minutes he was nearly soaked, still standing with the same stunned and glassy stare.
"Yeah – I mean no, actually, no," he corrected as he shook his head wildly about, his free hand scratching at the top of his scalp as he dabbed at the flowing beads of sweat. He swallowed loudly, his throat tightening as he did so and his eyes snapped shut momentarily. House watched on curiously. Lucas turned face Rigby, eyes still closed as his facial features formed an expression of visible guilt and apologies. "I think I might need to be sick in a second or something," he murmured thickly. "I'm gonna' sit down."
"I told you there would be consequences for disrupting the universe's one chance at survival. Now look how it's repaying you. Get him the trash can," House directed as he swept his good leg across the carpet and against the metal container, pushing it towards Rigby who was in the process of easing the private investigator towards a more comfortable position on the floor. Rigby quickly snatched the can, dragging it closer. Promptly she situated it between Lucas' crossed legs, aiding his hands towards the rim as though leading the blind. Lucas gagged over the round opening.
Rigby shot House a worried glance. "Do you think it's just something he ate at lunch?" House watched on in quiet fascination as Lucas' fingertips continued to twitch in a peculiar fashion. Head cocked to the side, he frowned. Leaning upon his cane, he lifted his chin once more in accordance with the fretting girl.
"You have somewhere to sleep tonight?" Rigby's brow narrowed. Perplexed, her mouth hung open wide.
"No. I mean, I figured I'd just get a hotel or something." House shook his head, walking towards his office door. Lucas continued to perspire while holding onto the trash can with such great force that his knuckles had become whiter than snow. "Why?"
House pushed open the door, limping through it as he glanced over his shoulder and looked her directly in the eyes before disappearing down the hall. "Because you're staying at my place. Oh and bring the sick one," he shouted. "This ought to be interesting."
