As the elevator doors opened, Wilson and House walked down the corridor toward their respective offices.
House popped his head into the DDX room and found Foreman, Chase, Thirteen and Taub hanging out around the conference table. Foreman and Chase were heavily engaged in a conversation, Taub was texting his wife and Thirteen was twirling a pencil in her hand, busy working on a crossword puzzle.
House was first to address the group, "Please tell me that you found a case?"
Taub looked up from his phone. "No. And it doesn't matter anyway because Cuddy said that you aren't to touch any cases until you've done at least two hours in clinic today."
"She doesn't want me to touch a lot of things these days," House muttered under his breath.
"Is that why you're here so early in the morning?" Thirteen placed her newspaper down. "I mean, since when do you come in before eight o'clock anyway? You must have really ruffled her feathers last night."
House smiled. "Word spreads around fast."
"Huh?" She laughed. "Yeah, that'd be the day."
"Just page me when you find something interesting." House walked right back to the elevator bank and headed down to clinic as the team went about their business in the DDX room.
Suddenly Wilson burst into the room with a bunny rabbit costume in hand. "Where's House?"
Chase tried to stifle a laugh. "What the hell are you doing with that?"
"I'm just giving it back to House. He let me borrow it for the event in Peds this morning."
Foreman closely looked at the costume head. "Wait. Isn't that from the Howard case two weeks ago?" He winked at Chase.
Chase nodded and followed his lead. "Right. The kid who collapsed at Furry Con! I thought House was going to throw that down in the incinerator."
"What do you mean?" Wilson sounded nervous.
"You really don't want to know what he did in that fur suit." Chase patted him on the shoulder. "Trust me."
The team collectively got up from their chairs and filed out of the DDX room trying to keep a straight face.
Wilson threw the bunny rabbit head on the table. "You'd better be joking!"
They remained silent.
"Guys? Guys?"
Wilson followed after them down the hall. "Come on! This isn't funny!" He balled his hands into fists and grumbled, "House."
House had already spent a good hour and a half seeing idiot after idiot in the free clinic. He exited examination room one with a patient file and grabbed another one from a large stack at the Nurse's station. He opened it, looked at the patient's name and immediately rolled his eyes. Here we go again. Another idiot. Patch Adams.
He shook his head and opened the door to exam room three. "Hello, Mr. Adams. I mean Mr. Morris," he quickly corrected himself. "What seems to be the problem now?"
Mr. Morris sat uncomfortably on the edge of the examination table. "Well, since you were so great diagnosing my problem the other day in a flash, my wife insisted I come see you again because I'm having other problems."
"Such as?"
He nearly whispered, "Well, can the nicotine patch cause problems with…?" He pointed down.
"Oh, you're talking about Erectile Dysfunction! It's hard to say. How long have you been having this problem?"
"Oh about sixteen years, I think."
"I'm sorry. Did you just say sixteen years?"
"Yes. Sixteen."
"But, you've been only taking the patch for…"
House opened the patient's file and looked at his chart.
"…the past two and a half weeks."
"Yeah. It's got to be the patch, right?"
House shook his head and blinked slowly. It was like he was talking to a brick wall. "Okay. Well, there are physical and psychological causes of ED. But let's point out the obvious. You have high blood pressure, take anti-depressants, have a long history of tobacco use, and you're fat. It could also be related to the fact that…"
A very pudgy woman in a long sleeved lime green floral print shirt and hot pink leggings entered the room. She had stringy bleach blond hair and a beach for a forehead. Her dark brown penciled eyebrows shaped like Nike swoosh logos almost detracted him from noticing her razor burned chin, but not enough from noticing her camel toe—or rather camel foot.
She walked up to Mr. Morris and lisped, "Hi, sweetie. Sorry, I'm late."
House completed his sentence, "…to the fact that your wife is the problem. Perhaps you're not sexually aroused."
The woman narrowed her eyes at him.
He tried to recover with a fake smile. "I meant, enough! Yeah, you're not sexually aroused enough." He looked at Mr. Morris and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Bet you can't keep upwith her, am I right?"
The patient's wife nodded her head. "I have to practically beg for it."
House smiled. "I'm sure you've been doing that all your life." Then he drew his attention back to Mr. Morris. "So, to answer your question. Yes, the patch can cause ED because you are still receiving nicotine into your system. Nicotine is a vasoconstrictor, which means it reduces blood flow throughout the body. To maintain an erection you need increased blood flow down there. But, I'm confident to say that the patch isn't causing the ED."
"Then, what is? Can you prescribe him some Viagra or something?"
"Then, what is? Then, what is? I don't get it. Am I missing something here?" House buried his nose in the patient's file. "You've been on the patch for less than three weeks, not sixteen years, right?" He looked away from the file.
Mr. Morris' eyes widened as he shook his head no behind his wife with a worried look.
House looked at him then at Mrs. Morris. "Have you ever fallen off a turnip truck by chance?"
Mrs. Morris looked dumbfounded. "What? What does this have to do with…"
"Never mind, it's not important. Forget I even asked. We should run some special tests first to see if he's even right for ED meds. I'm concerned about his high blood pressure. Too much excitement in the bedroom might damage his heart. For good, if you know what I mean."
Mr. Morris mouthed the words "thank you" to House then draped an arm around his wife's shoulder.
Concerned, she asked, "What kind of tests?"
"Nothing serious. I can do the tests right here." He bit his lip. "But first, I have to ask your husband some embarrassing questions. Questions that you may not know the answer to or even want to know. Questions like," he looked at Mr. Morris. "How often do you jack the bean stock?" Then he swung his head back in Mrs. Morris' direction. "You get the picture?"
"Okie dokie. I'll be waiting outside sweetheart." Mrs. Morris left the room and waddled back to a bank of chairs in the waiting area.
As soon as the door closed House pulled out his prescription pad and pen and scribbled on it.
"Really, I don't want to take any medications. Our relationship is just fine the way that it is and I'd like to keep it that way."
"Well, just in case, take this anyway." He handed him the piece of paper. The words 'One Large Brown Paper Bag as needed' were scrawled across the sheet.
Mr. Morris folded the piece of paper in his back trouser pocket without looking at it and headed for the door.
House's curiosity got the best of him. "Let me guess, she's rich?" He studied Mr. Morris' blank face. "Shotgun wedding?"
Mr. Morris gathered his jacket and exited the room. "I don't get it. Why does everybody always ask that?"
As he followed Mr. Morris out of the room, House realized he was actually glad to see him again. First off, he needed a good laugh and secondly it was nice to know that he wasn't the only one in a long, fucked-up relationship.
Maybe love was complicated after all. But there was no chance in hell he would end up like Mr. Morris and be happy with the way things were going. Although he was tired of scheming, he still wasn't going to give up on Cuddy.
House was signing off on Mr. Morris' chart when Nurse Jeffery joined him at the nurse's station. "Yo mama needs a CT scan." House pointed to Mr. and Mrs. Morris leaving the hospital, but more specifically at Mrs. Morris' crotch.
Nurse Jeffrey's face contorted for a few seconds just before turning into a mischievous smile. "And HR needs another strike against you."