"An Infusion of New Blood"
Prologue
She sat waiting in the office, legs crossed, head bopping to the hard rock beat of the latest alt band blasting from her I-Pod. She knew she was sitting on his desk, and she knew that they'd all be able to see her through the glass partitions even before they got to the office. She still kept her eyes closed, listening to the music, waiting. Waiting to meet the boss and the competition. She knew she wouldn't be making the best first impression possible. She wasn't even wearing her white labcoat, had it slung over a nearby chair. She didn't care about making a good impression. She wanted to make a lasting impression.
They were coming down the hall, the three that remained after Dr. Chase met his name's fate and was run out of the hospital, humiliated and verbally savaged by his colleagues, who he'd betrayed to Volger. Now they were the Three Amigos, the Three Musketeers, sorta. She saw them pause outside the door, peering at her through the vertical blinds. She didn't look at them, didn't let them know that she knew that they knew she was there. She uncrossed, recrossed her legs and stretched, arching her back to display her prominent breasts, made more so by the low cut, tight black tank top she choose to wear with her khakis. A silver chain glowed against her skin. Two of the three were men after all. Lasting impression, not good impression.
The door opened, and he was the first one through. Craggly face that was constantly adorned with neglected stubble, probably to make him look more rugged than he was. Or more careless. Or more helpless. Perhaps all, or perhaps he just thought it was a good way of rebelling. He was limping, his cane a symbol of his mood, of the mask he wanted the world to see. He wanted the world to both pity him and fear him, and the cane said both: I'm a cripple, but I'll cripple you if you say so. She could see through it, the whole package. It didn't fool her. It was like looking in a mirror. Dr. Gregory House. Just one big porcupine he is, she thought, continuing to pointedly ignore his presence while bobbing her head to the beat.
She felt his eyes, those haunted blue orbs, narrowing at her as he was followed by the other two. The one was Dr. Eric Foreman, a tough, often grouchy guy. A neurologist by training, he now often found himself House's whipping boy. And he took it well, even being sensitive at times. Hell, he was probably more like House than he wanted to admit to himself. Or so she'd heard. Volger filled her in on his observations of all of them before she took Chase's spot - without telling House to expect a replacement. Volger wanted to stir things up, catch House off guard, experiment. She didn't care what Volger's plans were. This was a good opportunity, and she would've been stupid to pass it up. Not just because she was interested and trained in various medical specialties, but she always loved psychology. And analyzing this bunch would be a tasty treat for her own psyche.
The last one to come in was Dr. Allison Cameron, the immunologist and, as Volger indicated, the one House cared the most about. She looked at the female competition, and could see why House might've found her intriguing. Cameron was conservatively dressed, knee-length skirt, blouse, lab coat, hair pulled back in some kinda intricate pony tail thing. But her eyes narrowed to the same range as House's, cut from the same cloth they probably were. She clutched a chart to her breast, her eyes appraising the competition. And her competition couldn't help smirk to herself. Cameron wore only enough make-up to look natural, whereas she wore black eyeliner, shade and nail polish. Cameron wore polished and probably expensive pumps, whereas she wore Converse hi-tops - red, of course. She saw a shadow flitter across Cameron's perfect face, and her smirk returned. Yeah, these three were going to be a lot of fun.
House stopped a few feet away, planted his cane for a leaning post, and cocked his head to level a gaze directly at her.
"If you came to audition for the stripper gig, I suggest you see Volger's assistant to schedule an appointment," he bit out, his shoulders squared in what amounted to his fighting stance. "I hear Volger likes to interview strippers personally."
"Funny, cause he said the same of you," she said, swiveling around to directly face him, again crossing and uncrossing her legs. She left her earbuds in and kept to the beat.
"Well, then he must have told you I usually like my strippers blonde and wearing police uniforms," House shot back, not missing a beat or moving even a fraction of a millimeter.
She was duly impressed and in respect removed her earbuds. "All in due time. I was hoping we could do some work first."
She jumped down from the desk, pocketed the I-Pod, but remained leaning against the desk. "Work hard, play hard. But, in your case, I can go easy on you."
She was purring. It was fun. Cameron's face got darker, Foreman shifted his weight. Easy, fellas, don't go jumping to conclusions - actually, do jump, that'll make this all the more interesting. But House just kept starring back at her, not moving, eyes fixed in a glare like they'd been carved that way. Truly remarkable. How far can I push you, porcupine?
She held out her hand, not attempting to bridge the chasm between them. "Erica. Or Dr. Stevens if you prefer."
House's brow furrowed. He limped around her and sat down behind his desk, pondering the meaning of what she just said as if it meant understanding the meaning of life. "Stevens. Erica. Doctor. Is that supposed to mean something to me?" he asked, interlacing his long fingers.
Stevens let her hand drop and looked over her shoulder at him. "It will from now on. Volger appointed me to your department."
Foreman would've leapt forward if he wasn't a civilized man. "What are you talking about? He just gave us all the run around, getting one of us gone in the process."
"Right, and that was phase one of his 'make House suffer' fun," Stevens replied, glancing between Foreman and Cameron before returning her gaze to House. "You didn't think he'd actually stop there, not when you supply him with such fun and folly."
"Yes, as a matter of fact, that's what he said he would do," Cameron stepped in.
"You must be Dr. Cameron," Stevens replied. She stepped forward, offered her hand to the competition. Cameron refused to relinquish her grip on the chart. "I've heard about you. All of you actually. Brilliant minds, geniuses, rebels with a cause." Stevens leveled the last comment at House directly, who had yet to blink at her. "You solve the unsolvable. Veritable Sherlocks in this hospital. I'm very honored to be able to work with you."
"But I don't get it," Foreman said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Why would Volger send you when we're supposed to be cash strapped?"
"Hey, you got me."
"But you said - "
Stevens flashed Cameron a genuine smile and shrugged. "Oh, that. That's just what I heard through the grapevine. Dr. House's tussle with the homegrown capitalist has been the talk all over. Word is he likes playing with you guys, like you're his ant farm or something."
"So you're just naturally a bitch then?" And that from Cameron.
Stevens touched her nose and winked. Foreman snorted, contemptuously and humorously. Stevens smiled at him in reply, but he just shook his head and sat down at their conference table.
"I still don't get it."
Cameron sat down next to Foreman, finally releasing the chart to the table. "What does Volger hope to accomplish by sending someone of your ilk to work with us?"
"This."
They all turned back to House. Stevens smile grew larger to find a twinkle in the glare still leveled at her. Yes, he understands. He knows how to play.
House set his cane on the desktop, leaned back, his hands cupping the back of his head.
"Just like he used Chase, to stir things up. Only this time, instead of a bastard, he sent a bitch."
Stevens lightly rested a hand over her chest. "I'm beginning to think I'm not wanted here."
"Not wanted…perhaps. Unfortunately, I set up this department to run with three doctors beneath me. To reduce the amount of work I'd actually have to do - like actually being around patients with their germs and sicknesses." He added a good shudder for emphasis. "That means, with Volger setting the tunes he wants me to dance to, I need to have that third mind come in your vulgar body."
"Ah, you're warming up to me already."
Cameron muttered something under her breath, which Foreman smiled to.
"So, as long as we are forced to put up with your company, can you at least tell me in what way you won't be a drag on us?"
His face was really cute when his eyes twinkled that way. Like a boy, plotting out mischief against an older sibling or a neighbor's bully of a dog.
"Well, I have studied endocrinology, gynecology, immunology, neurology, cardiology, oncology, psychology, pediatrics, geriatrics, psychiatry, this, that and the other ology."
"Had a hard time picking just one?" asked Foreman.
"I never was one for settling down with any one," she flashed back. She sat back down on House's desk. "I specialize in medicine, although I also like genetics, chemistry, quantum physics, geology, paleontology, archaeology, astronomy and anthropology. Oh, and astrology." She looked over her shoulder at him. "I'm an Aquarius, just so you know."
He picked up his cane and stabbed her in the rear. "Don't care."
She slid off, shrugging. "I'm just your all around science geek."
Cameron wasn't impressed. "She who knows too much knows too little."
"It's one thing to focus on one particular tree," Erica replied. "I like to see the forest, the trees, and all the little, furry animals that call it home." She pulled a chair away from the table and straddled it. "That's how you understand medicine."
Cameron leaned forward, in fighting position. "But how can you possibly know everything without some of the information getting lost and distorting your diagnosis?"
Stevens hooked a thumb back at House, who was once again leaning back, observant.
"Ask the boss man there. I wanted this job to learn from him, see how he does it. Perhaps, even one day," she looked back to House, "surpass him."
The snort again from Foreman. Cameron straightened up, shot her gaze over at House. But House was fixed on Stevens, and she steadfastly returned the look. The twinkle grew brighter, lit by a flame that curled his lips with its heat. Yes, House, that's right. It's time to play. And you're gonna teach me how to be the best. Damn Volger and his ulterior motives. I want you, to teach me, and I'll make damn sure you want to.
Perhaps he knew what she was thinking by staring into her eyes. She heard he could do that. People spoke in whispers about it. But his twinkle got brighter.
"Well, Dr. Stevens, if you are going to be a bitch, then you will be my bitch," he said, as nonchalantly as most people order Chinese food. "If I hear you're actually Volger's bitch, then I'll have you spayed. Is that understood?"
"Loud and clear, Dr. House."
He got up and assumed his position at the white board.
"Good, now turn that damn chair and sit up like a proper lady. Use Dr. Cameron as your role model, she'll play the part beautifully. In fact, I want you to stick to Cameron's backside until I say otherwise, is that understood?"
Stevens and Cameron both opened their mouths, but the sudden ice in House's eyes made them snap shut. Stevens turned around her chair and sat down straight and proper, legs nicely crossed and everything. And she could tell by the prickling on her neck that Cameron was fixing an icy glare at her back. If House noticed, he kept quiet.
"Now, let's get down to business."
Yes, these three were definitely going to be fun.
To Be Continued…
