Chapter Two: Enter The Friend
House knocked twice on the door to Wilson's office, then walked in without waiting for a response.
Wilson looked up from his computer, a look of slight annoyance creasing his brows at this breach of etiquette, but then his expression relaxed, seeing his unorthodox friend. "Please do come in," Wilson jibbed, as House flopped down onto his couch, feet hanging over the armrest, and began absentmindedly twirling his cane in slow circles over his head.
"Anosmia," House said without preamble.
Wilson thought back to medical school and Greek roots. "The state of...having no nose?" he asked. It wasn't a term he'd heard in a long time.
House stopped twirling the cane and gave his friend an incredulous look. "You think I'd have a patient with no nose, and not invite you to come and gawk, on some pretext? What kind of a friend do you think I am? It's no sense of smell."
"Ah." Wilson shrugged dismissively. "Lots of people are born with no sense of smell."
"This girl lost hers two weeks ago."
"Oh. And that actually interests you?" Wilson was surprised – it did seem a little blasé for House's tastes.
House began twirling his cane again. "Dr. Wilson," he said sarcastically, "the basis of my practice is patient care, not merely taking cases that interest me."
Wilson smiled wryly and turned his attention back to his computer screen for a moment. "Of course," came the equally sarcastic reply.
"Anyway, I jumped the line and got her in for a head CT."
"What?' This time the annoyed expression that crossed Wilson's face stayed there. "House, there's like a three week waiting list for CT scans. You can't just throw some patient in unless it's an emergency."
"Ya, well, I'm impatient. Don't like to wait. Plus, she's pretty."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "The rules apply to everyone but you."
"Of course."
Wilson noted with some irony that House actually sounded sincere.
"How'd she lose her sense of smell anyway, blow to the head?"
"Don't know yet." He looked thoughtful. "Didn't ask about that, but she couldn't pinpoint any single event that triggered it, so unless suffering a blow to her head has also given her amnesia, I don't think so." He sat up and stretched briefly. "No apparent physical damage to the nasal membranes either."
"You scoped her?"
"Naw, just the otoscope."
"Endoscope would see more."
"Ya, but I'm already doing a CT, so I'll see the sinus cavities, olfactory nerves, the whole bit."
"You were being nice." It sounded like an accusation.
"What?"
"You didn't want to stick an endoscope up her nose, just to spare her the discomfort."
"Didn't want to take time to track down an endoscope," House defended. "It's not like we have them in every room. The otoscope was more convenient, and totally sufficient."
"Right. Methinks the doctor doth protest too much," Wilson replied.
House rolled his eyes.
"Are you sure she can't smell?" Wilson asked. "Maybe it's just Münchhausen's. As you always say, 'everybody lies'."
"She wasn't lying."
"Because she'd pretty."
"No, I know she wasn't lying about that; she did lie about something else though, so I'm still right, everybody does lie."
"Maybe she's just a good liar."
"You're in a pretty skeptical mood today."
And surprisingly you aren't. Wilson didn't say it out loud. If House was actually in a good mood, no sense spoiling it. "Just playing Devil's Advocate," he said instead.
"Uh-huh. Well, I happen to know she can't smell, because I cracked one off just after we entered the exam room, and she didn't so much as blink."
Wilson gave him a slightly open-mouthed stare for a moment, and wrinkled up his own nose in disgust. "Okay, that was just too much information. Maybe she was just being polite, House. Some people actually are."
House ignored the jibe.
"I mean, she must have heard it at least..." Wilson went on.
"Silent but deadly."
"Oh."
"And if she had a sense of smell, she would've made a face, or coughed or blushed – she blushes a lot," he interjected. "I mean, I could hardly keep a straight face–"
Wilson had that slightly disgusted look again. "Like I said, too much information."
"More like too much bean filling in the beef-n'-bean burritos–"
"House! I haven't had lunch yet."
House smirked and got to his feet, heading towards the door. "Then steer clear of the burritos," he called over his shoulder. "Gonna go see the CT results."
A/N: In progress. All reviews appreciated.
