Chapter 3

SLAM! Wilson shrieked with fright at the sound of the office door slamming. This nearly caused him to fall out of his seat, thereby almost starting a chain reaction of: hurling the patient file in his hand across the room; knocking over his glass of water; short-circuiting the electric screwdriver and starting a fire as a result. Holding his chest, he looked up to find House pacing in front of his desk. Wilson looked at his watch. 7:30 a.m.

Wilson gasped. 7:30! "House? Isn't it a bit early for you?"

"Jimmy…" House stopped pacing and thumped his cane against the floor. "She's a freakin' LIBRARIAN!"

Wilson sighed and finally laid the file down. Clearly he wasn't going to get any work done now. "House, I'm working; I have patients that are actually dying. What do you want? And you never told me why you're early. And WHO'S a librarian?" Wilson pointed his finger at House. "Your latest hooker? That's a new one."

"Shower Girl! She's a repressed, virginal librarian!"

Wilson immediately remembered Shower Girl. Truth be told, he could never forget Shower Girl, no matter how he tried. And he never labeled her as repressed or virginal…at least not from where he'd been standing when they first met. "Oh…Shower Girl. Yeah, I remember….WHAT???? She's a LIBRARIAN?? Wow…I'd never have guessed that someone who answers the door wet and wrapped in a towel shelves the loaner King James Bibles. That's even hotter…forbidden even." Wilson looked at House. "And how do you even know this? You still haven't told me why you're early."

"I didn't sleep. I've been trying to figure out why she's a librarylady." He paused. "And can you believe it? She's never heard of "librarianism". I mean, who hasn't?"

Wilson was confused. "What is librarianism?"

House rolled his eyes. "You've never heard of it either?" Wilson shook his head and House kindly informed him of that "degeneration of our social evolution".

Wilson's face contorted as it usually did when House said or did something really stupid. It happened at least once a day. "House, that's gotta be the most stereotypical, sexist thing I've ever heard. Of course there's no such a thing as librarianism." He paused. "Wait a minute: did you say SHE'D never heard of librarianism?" House nodded and Wilson rolled his eyes once again. This was a typical day at PPTH for Dr. James Wilson: the day usually ended with a massive headache, just one of many occupational and friendship hazards of being around Dr. Gregory House. But the headache usually started much later in the day. He just wasn't ready to deal with it this early. "You jackass. You aren't supposed to tell HER that. What'd she say?"

"She railed on me, saying she'd never met someone who treated her the way I did. Personally I thought it was a bit of an overreaction."

"An overreaction?! You're lucky she didn't slug you, which you would've deserved." All this "librarianism" talk got Wilson off the real subject… "Wait a minute! How do you even know she's a librarian anyway? Are you stalking her? Haven't we already had the "stalking is bad; don't do it" discussion?"

"Stop with the Inquisition already! I've only got room for one thing at a time."

"Ok, I'll go slower…" Wilson sat back in his reclining leather desk chair and smirked. "Let's start with the most obvious question: How do you even know she's a librarian?"

House stopped pacing and plunked down into a chair opposite Wilson. Looking around his office, House asked Wilson, "You got anymore doobies? I know you roll and I need SOMETHING man."

"You're still avoiding."

"Fine." House face palmed and sat back in the chair, his baby blues pondering his friend's chocolate browns. "I, um…" he sighed, not sure how to tell his friend that Dr. Gregory House, MD actually set foot into a library on his own accord. Spreading his hands apart, he gestured as he talked: "…ok, here it is: I left here yesterday and ended up at the Princeton Public Library. The library brought back some pretty amazing college memories of the University library: those dark corners and lots of oh-so-eager coeds."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Well, that's starting to explain your fascination with that ludicrous "librarianism" theory. But that's neither here nor there. So…you needed to satisfy yourself so you went to the library? I've heard of some strange things but that's gotta take the cake."

House narrowed his eyes and lifted his cane. "Would you like a rectal exam the HARD way? I did NOT go to the library for personal gratification; I just ended up there."

"Ok, so, you ended up at the library. What happened next?"

"I ran into a matronly old hag and asked if there were any dark corners I could seduce women in and she clutched her chest in disgust. I walked away and someone yelled for an ambulance. Apparently the old broad really did have a heart attack. Who knew?"

Wilson shook his head and he smiled in complete disbelief. "You mean the clutching of her chest wasn't enough of a clue for you?"

"Shut up. I went back and found Shower Girl. She was the one who'd yelled for the ambulance. I stabilized the woman; the ambulance came; and I got Shower Girl's name: Romoly Scott. She's the head librarian."

Wilson nodded. Somehow, all that zaniness made sense; after all, it was House and House wasn't normal people. Now Wilson himself was dying to know more about Romoly Scott. "And let me guess: she's shooting that librarianism theory down isn't she?" House's simple blue-eyed regard for Wilson was enough of an answer. "Wow. She must be beautiful. What'd she look like fully clothed?"

House smiled devilishly. "About 5'7"; caramel color hair; grey eyes. Her hair is highlighted which makes me wonder: do you think the drapes match the carpet?"

Wilson groaned and dropped his face into his hands in dismay. What a typical Houseian comment.

*****