Whoa. Finally, I begin the individual sessions! You have no idea how hard it was to write Foreman's session. I hope you like what I came up with. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE if you have any ideas for Wilson's session, let me know in a review or PM.
DISCLAIMER: Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah, hallelujah, halle-lujah! ...Not mine, people.
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"So, Eric, would you like to start by telling me once again why you're here?" Dr Dumbbell said kindly as he shut the door after Wilson and sat down opposite the neurologist.
"Well, technically, we're all here because my boss forced us."
"Dr House?"
Foreman twitched at the name. "No, Dr Cuddy. She's the administrator."
"Well, obviously Dr Cuddy wouldn't have 'forced' you to seek help unless she thought you actually needed it."
Foreman shrugged. "That seems like a reasonable suggestion."
"Do you think you need psychological help?"
"I think my boss needs some psychological help."
"You said before you all needed it."
"I meant him."
"You're obviously harbouring some vengeful thoughts for Dr House. How well do the two of you get along?"
"We don't."
"Why not?"
"We have differing opinions, for one."
"On what?"
"All sorts of things."
"Such as…?"
"Ethics, protocol, what ties I wear to work…" Foreman clenched his fist.
Dr Dumbbell nodded sympathetically. "So you two argue a lot?"
"No. I try to… address the issues but I can't seem to get through to him."
"He doesn't listen?"
"If he does he doesn't care. He doesn't value my opinions."
"Do you tell him this?"
"I've tried."
"Do you think you could try harder? Make more of an effort?"
"I thought I'd made myself clear, but I suppose there's always room for improvement."
Dr Dumbbell scribbled some notes down in his clipboard. "Is there anything you'd like to get off your chest?"
Foreman sat staring at the psychologist for a few seconds, before nodding so emphatically it took his eyes a few moments to straighten out once he'd stopped.
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Outside the waiting room was silent. Wilson was brooding in his corner, Chase had fallen asleep with his head against the wall and was drooling violently, Cameron was daydreaming about House (made obvious by her intense staring match with the side of his head) and House was twiddling his thumbs, having (fortunately) taken no notice of Cameron's obvious interest in him. Across from them Cuddy was wringing her hands, growing more and more nervous by the minute. She knew it was only a matter of time before House grew bored enough to take action.
'Uh oh' she thought to herself as she saw him reach into his pockets for his Vicodin. 'Refill. He's getting geared up for something.' She glanced over at the secretary, who was prodding stupidly at her keyboard. 'Poor thing.' Cuddy thought with a sigh. 'She's got no idea what's in store for this simple little waiting room.'
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"Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to pretend to be House, while you sit there and get some things off your chest. You know, tell me what's bothering you, what you'd like to do about it, and so on." Dr Dumbbell was saying back in his office.
Foreman nodded. "Okay."
Dr Dumbbell raised his eyebrows expectantly at Foreman. "Well? What don't you like about me?"
Foreman shifted uneasily in his seat. "I suppose you're disrespectful towards me. I don't like the way you disregard my opinions." He said hesitantly.
"How am I disrespectful towards you?"
Foreman shook his head. "Look, this is really difficult. How am I supposed to vent when it's you sitting there?"
Dr Dumbbell cocked his head. "Use your imagination. Concentrate on Dr House, not me."
Foreman raised an eyebrow sceptically. He stared hard at Dr Dumbbell for a couple of minutes before throwing his hands up in defeat. "I can't do it."
Dr Dumbbell was about to protest when a mischievous shout came from the waiting room.
"Hey, Dr Cuddy!" It was House.
Something snapped in Foreman. One second he was sitting motionless in his chair, the next he was launching himself at Dr Dumbbell. He grabbed the nearest cushion and tried to throttle the startled psychologist with it, shouting viciously:
"How dare you, you son of a bitch! Not so smug now, are you? This'll teach you to mess with Eric Gaylord Foreman!"
Dr Dumbbell, who had his arms over his head for protection, managed to fight Foreman off by tugging at his ears.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow! Stop it!" Foreman whined, holding his earlobes. He sat back on the couch, sulking.
"Well… that was certainly an experience. Do you feel any better?" Dr Dumbbell asked gently, while wiping away the flecks of spit Foreman had rained on him during the outburst. Foreman shook his head like a stubborn child. "No!"
"Well, how about you try talking this time?"
Foreman scowled. "Whatever."
"Alright, I'll say something first." Dr Dumbbell cleared his throat. "Say, Er- Foreman, what is that tie you are wearing? Blimey, it looks like road kill has been steamrolled and tied around your neck in a rather messy half-Windsor knot! Ha, ha, ha." He was obviously trying to sound like House.
Foreman blinked boredly. "Was that supposed to help?"
Dr Dumbbell straightened his shoulders. "Well, I have been commented on my acting ability-"
Just then "Whoa, look at it go!" echoed once more from the waiting room. Again, Foreman snapped. He jumped up, but this time he didn't launch himself at Dr Dumbbell, instead he ran back and forth across the office, swinging his arms like a gorilla.
"Why do you hate me? Don't answer that, I don't care! I'm here to work not make friends, waaaah!" He threw his hands over his eyes, still running around the office.
"Eric, please, sit-" Dr Dumbbell started, before Foreman interrupted him, pointing an accusatory finger at the psychologist.
"You just hate me 'cause I'm black!" And with that, he ran from the office.
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Back in the waiting room, House was fiddling noisily with his Vicodin bottle. Then, as if a light bulb sprang to life over his head, he popped it open and took a pill out. He sat it on his hand, preparing to flick it with the other.
"Hey, Dr Cuddy!" He called mischievously, trying to get her attention. But before she could turn around, a commotion in Dr Dumbbell's office caught everyone's attention. They all fell silent, listening intently.
"How dare you, you son of a bitch! Not so smug now, are you? This'll teach you to mess with Eric Gaylord Foreman!"
At the mention of Foreman's middle name, everyone in the waiting room screwed up their faces and stared at various spots on the ceiling, desperately trying not to laugh. Chase, who was woken from his sleep by the commotion, giggled stupidly.
"Gaylord! Ha ha!" That set them into fits of silent giggles. Cameron, in particular, was shaking violently in her chair, which had House watch her with interest. Cuddy had tears streaming down her face from all the silent laughing. Even Wilson's face twitched a bit. But that might have been because a fly zoomed up his nose.
When they were done laughing, and Cameron had composed herself, the room was silent once more. House decided this was the perfect opportunity to resume his little game. He positioned the Vicodin on his open palm once more, and flicked it in Cuddy's direction with the other. It soared gracefully through the air.
"Whoa, look at it go!" House marvelled, as the little white pill landed in Cuddy's hair. The Dean of Medicine scowled and pulled it out, throwing it on the floor. On the other side of the room, Cameron was busy exposing the top of her cleavage once more, puffing out her chest as she did so.
Foreman was screaming again, but they took no notice. House was busy aiming the next Vicodin at Chase. The intensivist had fallen asleep once more with his mouth wide open, and House saw this as a challenge. He positioned his hand carefully, and flicked it. The little white pill soared through the air once more, landing with a graceful 'plop' in Chase's mouth. The blonde doctor immediately woke up, coughing and hacking violently, until he swallowed the pill by accident. He scowled evilly at House (who smirked, for he knew what was coming) for a few seconds, before his face fell slack. The Vicodin was obviously taking effect, making him fall back in his chair, grinning at nothing in particular. Every now and then he chuckled stupidly. Beside him, Cameron was yawning every three seconds, opening her mouth wider than any normal person should be able to.
Just as House was fishing around for another Vicodin, a very distraught Foreman (three very distraught Foremans, from Chase's point of view) came running from Dr Dumbbell's office. He threw himself at a chair with his arms folded, staring sulkily at the floor. Chase stared at him in wonder.
Dr Dumbbell popped his head out of his office, determined not to look at Foreman.
"Er… Dr Wilson?" He called.
Wilson got up and slouched over to the office, while House cripple-leapt from his chair and scurried over to retrieve the Vicodin he'd flicked at Cuddy earlier.