Robert Chase was on a crossword again, his pager laying on the glass table in the conference room next to his feet when House marched in, a determined look on his face.
"Oh, last of my ducklings, follow me into the lion's den and face your new mission!"
Chase just frowned at him.
"What?"
"I said, move your ass into my office, I've got work for you!"
House turned around, hearing his last minion murmur behind him.
"I got that with the den. It's the last-statement I didn't get…"
The moment the Aussie was seated in front of his desk Chase had grabbed the gray-red big tennis ball, playing with it while House got comfortable in his own chair.
"I fired Foreman", the diagnostician stated then.
"You hate job interviews…", Chase piped up, making House sigh.
"I know that myself, thank you. That's why you and Cameron will be doing them… narrow them down to three, I'll look at them then."
By now the intensive care specialist was confused.
"We can decide who we work with?"
"I think that is what I just said…"
The younger man looked slightly thoughful and House got impatient when he didn't jump right into action, letting the world know that the great Gregory House was looking for another victim.
"That was your cue to go, make sure many qualified doctors stampede into here…"
"Do you want another neurologist?"
Now it was House's turn to frown.
"No, I want a dermatologist… we get to see many rashes here."
The younger man didn't even flinch at that, just staring at him.
"I just wanted to know if you want your own, brandnew neurologist, or if Dr. McLachlan is going to help out again if we need one."
And yes, it really sounded as if he was getting him a present. Yet, House didn't have any idea. The delegating thing was great, and he really didn't wanna have to do anything with listening to 5000 people telling him what a genius he was.
"Just pick out what you think would fit."
Chase just nodded, setting the ball down on House's desk again, standing up to leave the office when House spoke again.
"You'll be doing my mail until Cameron's cleared for duty again."
"You'll have to get a bigger trash can then. I don't hesitate to throw this stuff away", the Aussie snarled with his broad accent and House grinned.
"Well… Cameron has this system: Stuff, she consideres waste, stuff, I consider waste, and stuff we both consider waste. Try to work yourself into it."
When Chase had left his office he still thought about his last sentence. With all this waste why did he still have to sign that many letters?
The first thing the two men missed was the coffee Cameron made.
Chase's attempt to make himself useful ended with both guys spitting the dark brown liquid back into the cup.
"I've played in puddles that tasted better", the Aussie complained with House arching an eyebrow.
"That stuff was even worse than the one from the autom…", the surgeon whined on.
"Oh, stop being such a baby. Rather visit Cameron and make her tell you how she makes the coffee."
The Aussie thought about protesting but then decided that House was much more tolerable when he got what he wanted. And he'd rather visit his female colleague instead of being forced to do his boss' clinic hours.
Lisa Cuddy walked past him into the conference room when he left for his mission, not thinking anything bad about that.
House on the other hand immediately clenched when he saw his boss and the soft expression on her face. So this wasn't about him skipping his hours again a few days ago… actually he had let a kid play with his gameboy when he took a little nap, but…
She made a silent "Hi", into his direction and he just wanted to run away.
"What can I do for you?"
"I wanted to talk to you. About your problem."
He frowned at her.
"I don't have a problem. No, wait, can you make a decent coffee? Then I don't have problems."
She fought the urge to roll her eyes and lost.
"About this morning. Don't your realize that your addiction has really become…"
"A problem? Not to me, no."
Her blue eyes focused on him.
"You were ashamed this morning when Dr. McLachlan mentioned your… uhm… potency problems."
"I don't have any potency problems."
"But…"
"Decreased sex drive doesn't say anything about if little Greg is working properly. It just says I don't want him to work", he snarled, seeing her turn different shades of red when she thought about his companion and frowning at himself because of implying that…
"House. What has to happen that you finally realize that these pills are not doing you any good? You're already making up girlfriends to cover your discomfort."
"I'm not making up anything. And the pills are doing me good: They take away the pain."
"You could try some other pain management…"
His cane smacked against the white board to stop her.
"We had this conversation already. And you know what? I knew from day one that it was Wilson's idea and not yours to con me into a week without. You know what else? The pain in my leg is way worse than any of the withdrawal symptoms were. All of you are always talking about me, the stubborn addict, but none of you has to live with what I have to live with! I'm sick of it, really!" he growled, Cuddy looking at him wide eyed.
"I didn't mean to…"
"And now you come in here, humiliating me even more by wanting to talk about my little problem. Go, talk to Cameron and let her confirm that I'm not harassing her, and make sure I get intelligent candidates to replace Foreman! Jeez, one would think you had some interest in my sperm the way you act!"
Still being angry he didn't notice how her face slightly fell, and he even forgot that he in reality didn't have those problems.
Storming out of his own conference room he marched towards the elevator and angrily thumped his fingers on the button. When the doors didn't open immediately the turned on his good heel, marching towards the office of James Wilson.
His door flew open and the oncologist quickly racked his brain if he again had done something to piss off Greg House.
His friend just smashed the door closed behind him, anger written all over his face and Wilson sighed.
"What did Foreman do this time?"
"I fired him."
"You hate job interviews", Wilson stated and House rolled his eyes.
"Cuddy just came to see me."
"Because she doesn't want you to fire him?"
House growled at that.
"She wanted to talk about my potency problems!"
The oncologist widened his eyes.
"Your what?"
"Yeah, that's exactly what I thought when Hannah came in this morning, telling Cuddy and Foreman that I wasn't harassing Cameron because of my Vicodin-addiciton."
Now Wilson was confused while House fell into the 'Bad news' chair.
"Okay, since when are you harassing Cameron? And why would Hannah say something like that?"
"I'm harassing her since Foreman told Cuddy so. And Hannah saved my ass in there, respecting that I didn't want anyone to know we are together."
"By telling them you were impotent?"
House growled again.
"God, this word sounds even worse, Jimmy…"
Wilson just looked at him for some seconds.
"Well, are you…?"
"Hell no!" House exclaimed, defending his virility with Wilson still looking at him thoughtfully.
"Sorry… It's just… well, you know the amounts you're taking…"
"I'm down on three to four pills a day."
Now Wilson looked really shocked.
"You're down on 30 mg? (I looked it up at wikipedia. From how they look House's pills are 7.5 mg) How did you do that?!"
House rolled his eyes on him.
"By only taking them when it hurts? I've always been doing that, you know?"
Wilson's eyes rested on him for a while.
"Okay, I've done it most of the time", House admitted with a slight grin. Sometimes being high was just what he needed.
"She's good for you."
"Two days ago you didn't think that", was House's silent answer. Wilson sighed.
"She hurt you, okay? You are my friend, and I DO care. And I will apologize to Hannah."
"Yeah. You're buying us dinner tonight."
"I'm doing what?"
"You're taking us to a restaurant. And I intend to eat something really expensive 'cause I still can see the imprints of your fingers on her arm."
The oncologist looked really miserable when he heard that, then focused on his friend again.
"You'll be seen with her. I thought you wanted to keep it a secret."
"Yeah, and my girlfriend had to tell my boss I was shooting blanks to save my ass instead of telling them I was taken."
House looked confused at his friend when Wilsons eyes widened with shock again.
"What? Shooting blanks means I'm at least shooting. Impontent doesn't", House mocked, then frowned at himself in unison with Wilson.
"Did you hear what you just said?" the oncologist asked then, watching him closely.
"Yeah, I know, this were just implied potency problems, I know…"
"Actually I meant the girlfriend-part of your sentence before that…"
"I think I have GvHD", the elderly woman in exam room 2 told him and his eyebrow climbed to heights he didn't know it could reach.
"I don't think so", he replied, this time really looking into her file.
"You haven't even looked at me, how could you possibly know that?" she snapped and House frowned.
"Well… for GvHD, which you probably have read in some newspaper and thought it sounded cool, they actually have to cut you open first."
"Maybe with me it works without cutting me open!" she insisted, making him roll his eyes.
"So Scotty finally managed to invent this beaming-stuff…"
"What? Are you mocking me? I'm seriously ill!"
"You are either hypochondriac or really dumb or both. GvHD means Graft versus Host Disease, which means that T-cells from a graft, like a kidney or something like that attack tissue of the host. Since you didn't have anything transplanted you can't have GvHD", he explained rather unfriendly while the woman stared at him wide eyed.
"I'm going to…"
"What? Tell my boss? She'll tell you the same. Stop wasting my time and tell me what you want."
The woman stuttered something and he couldn't stop himself from moaning and rolling his eyes again.
"You come here, make up an illness and then you don't even know what drugs you want?"
He got up from his place, opening the door and looked at the woman.
"Get out of here. Come back when you know how to use the internet."
Then he walked out to the reception, getting another chart.
He looked up when the nurse who had witnessed Cuddy yelling at him to come into her office the day before spoke up.
"Is everything okay, Dr. House?"
"Make sure Miss Wonder-GvHD without G gets out of here, and remember her face. If she comes again, get one of these nice straight jacketts…"
"No… What I meant is, shouldn't you be walking with your cane?"
He looked at her a bit confused, then realized that indeed his right hand was empty. His gaze wandered to exam room 2 where his former patient just came out, murmuring something to herself. Where his cane sat against the wall.
"I… I must have…"
On instinct he immediately put most of his weight on his left leg, not sure how exactly he came out here. He could walk without the cane, he just had to make sure not to try to walk properly by actually bending the leg at the knee, flexing his impaired muscle. Normally that hurt.
His gaze wandered from his leg back to the exam room, then to the nurse.
"Could you…?"
Now she looked at him confused, her eyes widening slightly when she got what he meant.
"Of course."
She hurried into the room, coming back with the cane, handing it to him without any further remark. House sat down the chart in his left hand, once more too preoccupied with himself to actually think that the people in the clinic where here to be looked at by a doctor.
This time he managed to surprise her when he went into her office, finding her look at him guiltily when he stopped in front of her desk.
"You still have three days of sick leave. What are you doing here?" he demanded to know, leaning on his cane just because it had become a habit.
"Think about conning Cuddy into getting me a secretary. I have mail here that's five weeks old!" she complained, sorting through a pack quickly and then throwing it into the trash.
"Yeah, I'm sure a secretary does that ten times more effectively. And that action also could have waited till Monday."
"Well, then I wouldn't be here to listen to your indestructible logic."
She watched him for some seconds, his mind obviously running.
"Everything okay?" she frowned at him.
"I forgot my cane again."
And he just didn't forget it.
"And you want me to…?"
"If I knew that. I'm just confused…"
Hannah got up from her chair, walking around her desk and stopped in front of him.
"How about you were glad…? Forgetting you cane means your subconsciousness thinks you don't need it at that time…"
House sighed, still leaning thoughtfully on his cane.
"Unfortunately my consciouness knows that I can't trust my leg… and my subconsciousness can think?" he mocked and got a little smile.
"Is that all why you are here?" she then asked, making him frown.
"What? I can't come over just for fun?"
"If it was just for fun, I'd be already on my back, my skirt somewhere up around my waist."
House shook his head amused.
"Nah. I thought about taking you from behind on your desk. Punish you for making me deal with Cuddy and her condolences for my potency."
She cocked her head to one side, her face still earnest.
"You only thought about it?"
"Well, Wilson is taking us out for dinner this evening, so I thought I'd suggest to call it a day and get ready. I'll punish you at home afterwards", he grinned, before he turned around again.
"And you better wear something hot, I'm boasting with you today…", he hollered over his shoulder, leaving her staring at his back as he disappeared around the corner.
"What the hell took you so long?"
He was busy tying his tie when he opened his front door, turning around almost immediately to get back to the mirror in his living room.
"Well, since you want to boast with me I had to get a dress instead of all the business costumes and jeans I have here", she replied, walking past him into the bedroom to actually change while he was still engrossed in his fight with the tie, growling at it when it just didn't do what he wanted it to.
"Hey, don't you learn to tie things in the army? I could need some help!" he hollered into his bedroom, his eyes widening slightly when she came out only in her underwear, one hand hidden behind her back.
"Nah, wrong section. Sailors learn to tie. I learned how to built a bomb out of the things in my purse."
"Well, that doesn't help me right now. What do you have behind your back?"
She smiled mysterically before she showed him what she was holding.
"I bought your lonely red tie a friend", she told him, showing him a dark red silk tie and he frowned at her.
"You took that long because you wanted me to look good?"
"If you're allowed to show off, then I'm too. And it took me that long because I actually had to find a dress with arms that didn't look like something my Grandma would wear."
His eyes automatically wandered to the marks on her upper arm, growling.
"I should have killed him for that!"
"How chauvinistic of you." She took his old tie out of his hands, slinging the new one around his neck and started on the knot.
"Well, I'm old school. Guy who's touching my girlfriend gets beaten. Guy who hurts her doesn't survive the next day."
She didn't say a thing, maybe too concentrated on slinging the ends of the tie in the right way. When she was done she turned him around to the mirror again.
"So, now you're pretty. I'll have to fight off the chicks hitting on you."
He looked at himself, nestling at the perfect knot. It really didn't look bad.
"Doesn't change anything on the fact that I hate ties."
She didn't look offended when he turned around, realizing that he maybe had said something wrong.
"Please. I don't like skirts and wear them nevertheless. You can help me pull up the zipper in a few minutes if you want."
He followed her into the bedroom, watched her stepping into a dark rosé dress with a skirt that stopped mid calves. Pushing her hair over her shoulder, his fingers traveled down her spine, curling around the tiny zipper, gently pulling it up. Then he realized that the dress had only two straps that were holding it on her shoulders.
"Didn't you find something with arms?"
She just turned to the bed, producing a matching bolero jacket.
"That's why they make these incredibly useful things."
Dropping it on the bed again she saw him frown.
"What?"
"Well, won't you put it on?"
"I still have to do my hair and put on some make up."
"And one can't do that with this tiny jacket thingy?"
She laughed silently.
"No, one can't. Go, find your jacket, I'll be ready soon", she replied, disappearing in his bathroom and he laughed.
When had they started to sound so domestic?
