I apologize profusely that this chapter took so long to be posted. Last weekend, my dad, cousin, and I went to Anime Central in Rosemont, IL. It was a blast! Then, a couple days ago, I came down with the flu. So here's the next installment, and I hope you enjoy. (Also, there's something Foreman says that contradicts what recently happened in a couple episodes, but since I initially wrote this before I'd seen them, I kept it intact.)
Part Three: If You Call That Bonding
"What's the urgent urgency?" asked Cameron as she closed the door to House's office.
"I dunno," Chase replied. He sat with his legs resting on the table, waiting. "Foreman said he'd 'be right behind me' and House…isn't here yet."
"Figures." Cameron sat next to Chase, resting her chin on her hand. "So, you ready to play teacher this afternoon?"
"I think so. Might be nice to have someone following me around instead of vice-versa."
"I'm here." Foreman announced, all but running to his seat. He looked around.
"Not here yet." Said Chase and Cameron in unison.
"Then why the hell did he—"
"So that you'd be prepared for class." House interrupted. He stopped at Chase's legs. "Put those down. You're not at home."
"I hope this is important. I left Sam waiting." Complained Cameron.
House turned away from the white board, marker in hand. "And, how old is she?"
"That's not what I—"
"Trust me, if she's only enough to vote, she's old enough to keep herself entertained for a few minutes."
House wrote a list of symptoms on the board and turned to his team. "Differential diagnosis, people."
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Once again, he had them scouring the ends of the hospital for information. So far, it was nothing too serious. But as of late, that could change in a heartbeat.
Rounding a corner, House stopped himself from colliding with a certain high-schooler.
"Sorry." Sam apologized, then looked up. "You."
"You, yourself." House replied. "Always walk around without looking where you're going?"
"'You can't look where you're going if you don't know where you're going'." Quoted Sam. She held up the scrap of paper she'd been so intensely focused on. "I have no idea where the Lucas Wing is."
"And why, praytell, must you reach the Lucas Wing? Do you get a prize?"
A small smile crossed the girl's face. "The doctor I was supposed to Shadow today had some kind of crisis to attend to. Dr. Cameron doesn't think she'll be able to come back for the rest of her time, but Dr. Chase might be able to squeeze me in. Told me to meet him in the Lucas Wing at two."
"And he didn't even bother to show you where it is?" House raised an eyebrow. "Chivalry is so dead."
Checking his watch, House motioned for Sam to follow him. "C'mon."
As they walked, the doctor noticed her Labyrinth shirt. "You've actually seen that movie?"
Sam raised her own eyebrows. "Are you saying you have?"
"Does that surprise you?"
"Honestly, yes. It's not really a movie everyone and their brother has watched."
"But David Bowie in tights," House protested in a teeny bopper-esque manor. "Who could resist?"
Sam laughed. "Right. So, I guess you don't want to know how many times I've seen it?"
"Obviously quite a few, if you're quoting from the movie in daily conversation."
"So now you're saying the movie's okay, but you wouldn't play it for your friends at your next party?" queried Sam evenly.
"I'm saying a movie with Muppets in it isn't always my forte." House stated.
They reached the Lucas Wing. Sam tucked a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it." House said nonchalantly. As she began to walk away, he said, "Samantha, I like Labyrinth. Jim Henson was a genius. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise."
"Sam. And how did you know my—"
"You're popular around here." House told her. "That, and I'm nosy."
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Wilson entered the Oncology break room to find his friend deeply engrossed in an episode of General Hospital. "Getting acquainted with the new girl, I see."
"The hot new doctor with amnesia? You better believe it!"
"Sam."
"She was wandering the halls aimlessly. Almost ran into me. Cuddy needs to give that kid more to do."
"She'd have plenty to do if you hadn't made your team abandon her."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I missed the memo where I was supposed to give a damn."
Wilson folded his arms across his chest. "I saw you talking with her. She's gotten to you."
"She's vaguely captivating. She likes that movie with the Muppets."
"Labyrinth?"
"That's the one." House turned up the volume.
"You love that movie."
"I do not love that movie." Facing the other doctor, House continued. "I agree with its philosophy: all children should be turned into goblins and kept in an Underground dimension of sorts."
"Somehow, I don't think that's what the film was trying to convey." Wilson poured himself a cup of coffee and took a sip.
A commercial appeared on the screen, and House got up from his chair. "Time to check on the kids," he said.
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Chase finally made it to the Lucas Wing after an hour of checking out the laundry of their newest patient, Aaron Greenwood. He was half-convinced what they were looking for was a fungal infection. The jeans alone had to be molding after not being washed for at least a month.
The intensivist caught sight of Sam, who was focusing quite intently on a notebook she had in her lap.
Approaching her, Chase glanced down and saw a picture of what looked like those Japanese cartoons he'd heard about.
"Did you really draw that?" Chase asked.
Sam looked up, putting the cap back on her pen. "Yeah."
"It's good." The man cleared his throat. "I'm Dr. Chase; we met downstairs. Sorry I'm late. I do have to warn you that my colleagues and I are working on a case, so our time together may be cut short."
"That's fine. You guys are doctors. It's your job." Sam closed her notebook and rose from her seat. "After you."
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"You're going to hear a loud sort of banging sound," Chase told Aaron, who was currently lying in the MRI, "but try and remain still."
Sam watched from the booth as the man slid inside. "What is it you're looking for?"
"I'm not sure exactly." Pushing a few buttons, Chase said, "Hopefully I'll know when I see it. Or House will."
"Dr. House. Popular guy." Sam replied sarcastically.
"He pretty much said the same about you."
"He did?" A frown crossed the girl's features. "How does he know me?"
"Dr. Cuddy told him to treat you properly."
"Oh." Still confused, Sam pressed on. "But, I don't think I've met him yet."
Chase looked over at her with a half-smile. "Consider yourself lucky."
"So I've been told." Sam muttered. "Don't you, Dr. Cameron, and Dr. Foreman work for him?"
"Yeah."
"So, if he's as terrible as everyone says…?"
"House may be a jerk—alright, he is a jerk—but he's damn near brilliant. I guess I can put up with him in order to learn a few tricks of the trade and become a better doctor. Maybe save someone's life on my own one day."
The image on the screen was complete. Chase examined it, then announced, "He's clean."
He turned to Sam again. "That's about all for today."
"Thanks, Dr. Chase." Sam gathered her things and went to the door, then stopped. She faced the doctor once more. "Is that the way he is all the time? All insults and intellect? He doesn't have any middle ground?"
Chase hesitated before responding. "Occasionally, someone or something will peak his interest. Not often, mind you. But when it does, he's slightly different. House wants to get to the bottom of the mystery."
"And when he's solved it, does he just discard the person or thing?"
"I'm not usually around for the very end." Admitted Chase. "How long whatever he takes from the experience remains with him is anybody's guess."
Nodding, Sam said, "Thanks again."
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On her way out the doors of the hospital for the day, Sam heard a familiar voice say,
"You weren't even going to say good-bye?"
She saw the man with the cane walk over. "Am I supposed to be keeping tabs on you or something?" Sam asked with a smile.
"No, but the way we're always running into each other—sometimes literally—I'm starting to suspect you're stalking me." House pretended to think it over. "Now, you don't seem like the murderous type, so that must mean you're madly in love with me. And while I'm flattered, I don't normally date jailbait."
Sam narrowed her eyebrows slightly. "I turned eighteen last week."
A slow smile spread across House's face. "Score."
"What about you? I see you here all the time, but you've already basically told me that you're not a patient. Are you visiting someone?"
"Not if I can help it. At the moment, I'm going home for the evening."
"Me, too. It's been a long and interesting day."
House cocked his head. "Having issues, are we?"
Sam closed her eyes. "No, it's just….never mind. I get irritable easily when I haven't eaten."
"What about that 'bag of chips or something'?"
The girl pulled Fritos from her purse and shook them. "I've been with doctors all day. Didn't have time to eat."
"And you didn't get any downtime?" House asked, recalling when Cameron had to run for their differential diagnosis earlier.
"About an hour. But most of that time was spent writing up observations. Then I got bored, so I started drawing."
"You draw, too?" the doctor queried. "Fascinating."
"Have a good one." Sam waved shortly before exiting the hospital.
House watched her go and reflected on the day. He and his team hadn't found the cause of their newest patient's ailment, but the antibiotics were buying them time. It made him wonder, however: should he need Foreman for whatever reason tomorrow, what would the girl be forced to do to keep herself entertained this time?
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The first thing Sam noticed when she saw Dr. Foreman the following day was that he was wearing a leather jacket as opposed to the standard lab coat. She thought that odd, but didn't call attention to it.
Walking up to the neurologist, she asked, "So, what part of Princeton Plainsboro are we visiting today?"
"We're not going to be at the hospital for awhile." Foreman had been glancing around somewhat nervously; that was quickly overshadowed by annoyance.
"Okay." Sam agreed slowly. "Where are we going?"
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Thinking back to earlier that morning, Foreman still couldn't believe what was going on.
House had sought him out and told him to check out Aaron Greenwood's house for anything unusual.
"But I've got Sam Shadowing me today." Foreman had protested.
"Bring her along." House grinned.
"No way. It's already highly illegal what I'll be doing—I'm not dragging her into it."
"Consider it 'field training'," House told him. "Just, you know, way, way out in the field."
The diagnostician walked away, ending the conversation right there.
Which was why Foreman was leading Sam around a house that neither of them had permission to enter.
"Why are we here?" Sam studied a mounted fish on the wall and shrugged.
"Dr. House sent us to look for possible causes of what could be affecting a patient of ours." Foreman answered, putting on a pair of gloves.
"And, you couldn't just ask the guy what he eats of if he has pets?"
"House's mantra is 'Everybody lies'. We took a complete medical history and asked some questions, but that didn't tell us much."
"Ah." Sam clapped her hands together. "So what are we trying to find?"
"Technically, this is my job. You understand we're not really supposed to be here, right?" Foreman faced Sam, making sure she was straight on their current position.
"You mean he didn't hand you the key and wish you 'Happy Hunting'?" the girl feigned surprise.
Shaking his head, Foreman said, "You sounded like House just then."
Sam's slightly cocky air faded. "Sorry, I'm a mite sarcastic. Runs in the family."
The doctor toyed with an extra set of gloves. "Are you sure you want to help me?"
"I don't really know how much help I'll be, but yeah."
Handing Sam the gloves, Foreman set about scavenging the kitchen; Sam took the bathroom. "Just look for anything out of the ordinary—something that could have the potential for making someone sick."
"So, does Dr. House have you do this sort of thing a lot?" asked the girl, opening the medicine cabinet.
Foreman glanced at the chemicals under the sink. "All the time. Cameron and Chase, too. But mostly, I get all the 'fun' jobs."
"Lucky you."
Sam saw Advil, shaving cream and a razor, an extra bar of soap, and Band-Aids. Nada.
"And have you had the pleasure of the eminent Dr. House's company?" asked Foreman, opening cupboards that merely contained dishes.
"No, but from what I've heard, I'm not missing much."
The man smirked. "What did you hear?"
"Dr. House is gifted, but an arrogant jerk. If he's doing something nice, there's an ulterior motive. He's an utter mystery, and sharp as glass." Sam paused, mid-shower check. "Oh, and he's beyond sarcastic. I think that about covers it."
"Sounds like you got the full work up. Usually someone has to actually be in the room with the guy to find all that out." Foreman paused as well. "Albeit for three seconds."
"The strange thing is, for all the negative things I've heard about him, there's been some…I guess you could say 'positive'." Sam admitted. "Dr. House is a genius, and you guys learn from him. Apparently, he has a knack for saving people's lives."
Foreman appeared from the kitchen. "What do you think of him?"
"I told you, I haven't met him yet."
"Based on what you've heard so far."
Sam was silent for a moment, and Foreman wondered if she was thinking, or if she wasn't going to answer. But finally she said, "I would never want to be one of his 'cases'."
"Fatally ill?" Queried the doctor. "Neither would I."
"No," Sam shook her head. "Someone he's interested in for all of the blink of an eye before he solves their mystery, and suddenly it's over."
Foreman didn't know how to respond. What she had said was true, to some extent. It was how House operated. Never was the process pretty, or fair, but it was the just way House was.
Foreman was caught off guard when Sam inquired, "What about you?"
He took his time with his answer as well. "He does what he wants—says what he wants—and gets away with it. Most of the time. And he's so damn stubborn, thinking he's always right."
"And is he?"
Sighing, Foreman replied, "More often than not."
He turned and headed back to the kitchen, motioning for Sam to do the same. "You can check the pantry while I get the fridge."
They went to their respective food receptacles, and Foreman smiled. "Guy wouldn't mind if I made a sandwich."
He pulled bread, turkey, and mustard from the refrigerator, then looked up at Sam. "Do you want anything?"
To which the teenager laughed. "I draw the line at eating the food of the guy whose house I have illegally entered. But knock yourself out."
Foreman shrugged and began putting together his snack. Sam finished looking through the pantry. "All the expiration dates are good, anything opened has been sealed, and it appears that Mr. Greenwood likes Tomato-flavored Ramen noodles." She closed the pantry door. "I'm a Creamy Chicken girl, myself." Looking around, Sam asked, "Should I check the living room?"
"Yes, please. I'll join you in a moment."
As Sam went, Foreman put the sandwich fixings back in the fridge. A second before he closed the door, he paused. There, sitting on the top left shelf, was a clue.
Grabbing it, he announced, "Sam, we need to get back to the hospital now."