Chapter 3
You're an unreliable, roguish sociopath with a light finger and the attention span of a hyperactive mayfly. Stated House's desktop computer.
(What?)
There's no cunning so low you can't limbo under it, no scam so complex that you can't get your devious, slippery mind around it. You're the con artist with the cheeky grin who detaches widows from their mites and babies from their candy, and yet leaves them laughing. What's the problem? It's all a game, isn't it? Happy Birthday Gemini!
House's internet connection had a tendency to spew a random horoscope at him once in a while. At first, he considered just dropping it out the window... until he saw this e-mail. It was just evil enough to win his respect. So, he kept it.
But he damn sure wasn't telling anyone about it.
"Doctor House?"
God, the Ducklings could be so annoying sometimes. Chase and his constant pretty boy ass-kissing, Foreman and his constant bitching,
"Uhm, Doctor House?"
Cameron and her big, doe-eyed, moral high ground... Suddenly, House's mind unwillingly fixated on her silky hair and that pretty mouth of hers...
"House?"
He jerked out of his stupor, and secretly took note to send this nurse an anonymous monetary gift of some sort.
"What?" He snapped.
"Why is there a kitten sprawled on your head... and another in your shirt pocket?" Inquired the tense nurse.
He had developed a secret affinity for House Cat, and decided to train the little monster to be his evil minion. But the second he pulled the kitten out of the playpen, it mewled pitifully, seeming to hate being separated from the others. The other kittens had been eerily silent... except Cameron Cat; who, at an amazingly runty eleven inches from nose to tail, was on her tiny back legs, squeaking sadly. Much to House's chagrin, he quickly deduced what was going on. With a long-suffering sigh, he plucked Cameron Cat from the playpen, and both kittens fell quiet.
(Wait, is that- oh hell. They're purring. That's just... evil.)
Which is how House Cat came to be sprawled on his head like a corpse, and little Cameron Cat ended up in House's pocket; her tiny face peeking up through the top.
Deciding not to answer the woman, he countered. "What? What do you want? Speak."
All the nurse's facial muscles tightened as she bit back a retort. "You have clinic duty, now."
To the nurse, the look on House's face was like a gift from the Heavens. He actually grinned.
But, before the nurse could comment on the rare sighting, House managed to limp his way out the door. Pretty speedy for a guy with a screwed up leg.
&&&&&&&
"Is that a kitty in your pocket?" gaped the perfectly healthy five-year-old.
"No. I'm just happy to see you." muttered House. He grimaced. (Well, that was lame. Even for me.)
"I swear, Chloe has pneumonia! She sniffled and coughed all the way here! And why do you have kittens? She's allergic!" Whined the overly paranoid mother; whom House referred to as 'Whiny McBitch'.
He turned and eyeballed the child. Snot was flowing freely down her nose like a river. He plucked Cameron Cat out of his pocket, and offered her the furball.
"Hold this for a sec."
The kid grinned like it was Christmas. "Yay!" she shouted. She cuddled and stroked little Cameron like she'd won the lottery.
House cat yowled and dug his tiny claws into House's shoulder, apparently outraged that his girlfriend would be used as a snotrag by a revolting child.
"Hey! Don't-" the mother began.
"Oh, bitch, bitch, bitch." House grunted.
"Excuse me?" gasped Whiny.
House gave her a mildly startled look. "What? Oh, I wasn't talking to you. I meant my cat." He took in the woman's raw, red hands, and the odd tinge to her skin.
"You clean obsessively don't you?" he asked, accusingly.
"Excuse me?"
"Do you have a hearing problem? You and the kid are all red and gooey because you are overexposing yourselves to cleaning fluids! I mean, geez, not one little sniff from her since she got here. I bet she's lovin' Cameron right now, huh, nose-miner?" he asked the kid.
The girl took no offense to the title, all too happy to play with the fluffy, and now mildly moist- Cameron cat. "Yeah!"
"There ya go." he concluded.
He snatched Cameron back, and tried to refrain from cringing as he felt how slimy she now was. Cameron cat, bless her fuzzy little heart, hadn't made a single bitchy noise the whole time.
House cat, on the other hand...
"MRAOW!!" he roared, and tried to stuff his tiny body into the same pocket, eager to see to the welfare of his beloved.
"Awww, they're in love!" Cooed the child.
"Oh, be quiet." grumped House.
The little girl looked up at him. "What? I didn't say nothin'!"
House blinked, confused.
Behind him, an adult female voice chanted, "House likes his kitt-ens. House likes his kitt-ens!"
(Oh, God. Kill me now. Seriously, strike me dead, pronto. Or at least smite this gargoyle!)
He turned, and snidely, he replied. "Yes, oh Unholy Prince- yes, I said prince- of darkness?"
Cuddy just grinned at him.
(Someone will pay for this.) House vowed.
:: AUTHOR'S NOTES :: TA-DAAA!! Read and Review!
