Random
Author: Milady Dragon
Disclaimer: Can't claim much of anything really
Author's note: Okay, did the last chapter stun the reviews out of you guys? If so, then I have done my job admirably. Here's another chapter, I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter Twenty-Eight
House was glad that she'd gone. This timeline's Allison Cameron was almost too much of a distraction for him, and not in a good way. It wasn't just the horrible blondeness of the woman…it was her attitude, her mannerisms, her very personality that was so wrong, and it jarred his sensibilities like seeing a shark walking around on land…oh, wait. That could very well happen with this group.
"Do you need anything, Greg?" Tim's solicitous voice interrupted his thoughts.
A very large scotch…"No. Thanks." He couldn't even talk to Tim about it, because this wasn't his Tim, either. This wasn't the same biotronic supercomputer who'd "sneak" him jaunting belts so they could play chess into the wee hours…and House had even won on occasion. Nor was this the Tim he'd once gone to with help on a diagnosis, suspecting that the illness wasn't something of this Earth. House had been right, and together they'd managed to save the man from a horrible death.
This wasn't the Tim who House considered one of his very few true friends.
He slumped down on the sofa that took up a large chunk of the Lab's space, stifling a sigh. Thinking about that had made him think of Wilson, and he had to wonder just how different his other friend was now. What was Jimmy doing? Where was he? House was tempted to ask this other Tim, but didn't. Maybe he didn't really want to know, after all.
And what about Cuddy? Chances were, she would've still been hired by PPTH as their administrator, since that hadn't had anything to do with him. But whom had she hired to take his place? Who was she bossing around, since it wasn't him?
And Foreman, and Chase? Where were they? What were they doing now? Living their lives, certainly, without any memory of him…or possibly each other. Or was there someone else, another diagnostician, who'd managed to bring them together? That idea bothered House more than a little, that there could've been someone out there, taking his place…
And then he thought about the Tomorrow People. Without John…this version had shattered, leaving Earth behind for the Galactic Federation. House had saved John's life, and that hadn't happened here. It made him angry, and sad at the same time. Were new break-outs left on their own then…no, wait…it wouldn't have mattered, since there apparently hadn't been a new break-out in years…
But still, the loss of the Tomorrow People was a blow to House's hope for the future. Ever since he'd heard about the so-called "Great Break-Out", he'd wanted to be around for that future event. Every time there was a new TP emerging, House would wonder if this would be the one to herald that time. He'd had Tim explain to him how to help an emergent Tomorrow Person, how to aid in the break-out process. To House, a new race of humans was a good thing, and couldn't wait for them to arrive.
In ways, it was gratifying to House's ego that so much had been screwed up with his early demise. That, without him, so much had been changed, and for the worst in his opinion.
But…
No, he wanted his old world back. And that definitely included his own Cameron. He missed her more than he cared to admit, even to himself.
House didn't know how long he'd sat there, the silence of the Lab eating into his brain like a leech, before Tim spoke once more. "I have received a communication on my instant messaging system from Dr. Temperance Brennan. She is ready to come to the Lab."
"About time." House got up, stumping over to the link table. "I really wanna get this show on the road."
"She has just asked for two matter transporter belts, and I have sent them to the coordinates traced to her transmission."
House raised an eyebrow. Two? He wondered who she was bringing with her.
He didn't have long to wait, in order to find out. The jaunting pad lit up, as Tim brought the new guests to the Lab. House recognized Brennan, of course, from the crime scene; she was a really hot brunette, although not in his Cameron's league. The woman took a good look around the Lab, but it was more appraising than curious.
"Welcome back to the Lab, Dr. Brennan," Tim greeted her warmly.
"Hello, Tim," the anthropologist answered. "It's been a while."
"Yes. Since John's funeral." Those three words were full of sadness and regret.
"He was a good man," Brennan replied. "I'm certain he is missed." Her blue eyes met House's. "You were with Allison at the crime scene." It wasn't a question."
"Glad to know I'm easily remembered," House replied, some of his old snark returning. "You gonna introduce your friend?"
Brennan turned back toward the jaunting area, where her companion was still standing, box in his arms and a gobsmacked look on his face. House knew him, of course; it was the FBI agent from the crime scene, and he was willing to bet this guy was that Booth guy who'd been investigating Jeremy Sanders' disappearance back on his own world.
"This is Special Agent Seeley Booth," the woman answered. When the guy didn't respond to her, Brennan snapped softly, "Booth!"
The FBI agent seemed to come to his senses. "What the fuck was that?" His voice nearly squeaked.
Brennan's eyes rolled. "We teleported," she said matter-of-factly.
"You say that like it's the most natural thing in the world." Booth was looking at her as she'd grown a second head.
"For some it is."
"Next you're gonna be saying we're on the Moon."
"Now that's a little ridiculous…"
Their verbal fencing would have been fun if House had been in the mood. "If you're finished screwing around, we have a killer to catch."
Booth looked at him, his shock only visible in his eyes now. "And who the hell are you, sunshine?"
House bristled at the confrontational tone. "I'm the one who's gonna save all our asses. And the last jackass who called me Sunshine ended up with an electrically charged probe shoved up his urethra without benefit of anesthesia."
The Fed had the good sense to wince at that mental image.
"Greg is correct," Tim put in. "Although I would have wished he might have put it a little more…delicately, than he actually did."
"Do I even wanna know who said that?" Booth asked acerbically.
"That's Tim," Brennan answered. "He's the artificial intelligence who runs the Lab."
"Which I would guess is this place." His voice had gone back to being a little high-pitched.
"Oh, for cryin' out loud." House had had about enough. "Didn't you clue him in on what to freaking expect?"
"I had thought he would adapt somewhat quicker than he appears to be," Brennan admitted.
"I would appreciate it if the language could be somewhat toned down," Tim suggested.
House ground his teeth in frustration. "Fine," he muttered. "But can we get things going here? Time isn't going to fix itself."
For that comment, he got looks from both the newcomers, but House could give a shit. He was tired, and he wanted to go home. His home. Where his Cameron and his Tomorrow People were waiting for him to put things right.
"Put the box up on the table," he contented himself with saying, motioning to the scan table.
"Artificial intelligence?" Booth asked, as he did what House wanted.
"The most powerful computer on the planet," Brennan answered, casting looks at both men as if she was expecting them to get up to trouble.
"I do feel a little insulted at being called a "computer", Dr Brennan," Tim corrected. "I am to a computer as an abacus is to your personal laptop."
"I apologize, Tim."
"Thank you."
House let the conversation roll over him as he began digging into the box that Booth had finally set down. Files and various evidence bags filled it to near bursting. He started pulling the clear bags out, setting them on the lighted tabletop. "See if you can get anything out of these, Tim."
"Thank you, Greg. I shall begin my scans at once."
Well, at least Tim was content to work on the problem…House grabbed the box by one of the punched out handholds, dragging the files back to the sofa in order to have a look at what the FBI had been up to since the killer had arrived on the scene.
Brennan joined him. "What do you hope to find that the authorities haven't?"
House pulled some of the files out and set them in his lap. "You know what they say about a fresh set of eyes."
"We've been working on this case for decades –" Booth started.
"And how far have you got?" House challenged, glaring up at the man. "Look, I know things you don't. So you might as well have a seat while I dig through all this sh-stuff and see what I can find."
"There would be nothing in the files that I myself could not discover," Tim said gently.
"No offence," House said, "but you think I'm nuts."
"That is not true, Greg."
"Yes, it is. And I'd think I was nuts too, if I was in your position…well, not exactly. You wouldn't catch me mounted on the ceiling with my balls hanging out."
He heard Booth snicker. Well, at the least the guy had a sense of humor. And Tim's mounting made the best material for such jokes.
"And why would he think you were mentally disturbed?" Brennan asked curiously.
House looked at her. From what Allison had said – and Tim had backed it up with his greeting – Dr. Temperance Brennan knew her way around the Tomorrow People. She'd know that weird shit happened around them, and maybe what to expect. Did he want to share it with her?
What the hell…he needed all the help he could get. And what are a few more people thinking he was off his rocker?
He rifled through the files, finding the one he knew had to be there. House flipped it open…and shivered as he saw the photos within.
"You okay?"
His head shot up at Booth's question. The Fed actually looked concerned. "Oh sure…if you call being a whacking great time paradox okay."
House handed the file to Brennan; she took it, glancing inside. "This is the first victim, Gregory House."
"Sure it is." He favored them both with a sour smile. "And it happens to be me."
