Some notes: I haven't got any comments about it yet, but I could see them coming if I fail to address the elephant in the room. Cuddy is acting like an ASS. I think it is a bit out of character for her. However, she has to be jealous, she's human. I'll try to calm her down but I just had to give them a little tiff because I think it's realistic enough. Enjoy the story!
I do not own House or any characters of course.
Popping several Vicodin into his mouth, House scoped the halls. He dry swallowed the pills before eyeing his target. "Ay! Foreman!" He yelled.
"What, House?" The neurologist stopped in his tracks.
"I need the results from the endoscopy."
"I didn't do that. Chase did. He's in your office."
House sighed. "Oh, come on. That's so far for me to walk. Can you do it?"
Rolling his eyes, Foreman replied, "I'm not here to do your chores. Go tell him yourself. I have other things to do."
"If only this was 1940 and I lived in South Carolina." House seemed pleased at his racist quip.
Foreman chose to ignore him and left his sight. Damn him. Damn House.
Succumbing to responsibility, House headed to his office. He was greeted by a less than pleasant sight.
"Dr. Chase, Dr. Cameron." He said after dramatically opening the doors to the glass room.
Chase was leaning back in his chair, very relaxed, while Cameron was flailed across the couch. Neither one being productive.
"Too bored to work for me now?"
The blonde jumped up. "Sorry, I was just- we were just-" He struggled for an explanation. In all reality, they were at a dead end with the diagnosis. The patient was experiencing swollen muscles, abdominal pain, throat redness, headaches, and rashes. Every day it seemed as if a new symptom had appeared. And the doctors were growing tired.
"I'm sure you have a medically relevant reason to be sleeping on the job." House swiped the papers off the table.
"Look, House-" Chase began.
"Don't give me any of that crap. Just go do your job. The patient isn't getting any well-er." He flashed a sarcastic and goofy look at the end of his sentence.
He was about to begin working when Chase grew skeptical. He turned around, slowly and tilted his head. "Wait a minute. How come I got all the flack for that? What about Dr. Cameron? She's sitting on her ass too. She hasn't done any more work around here than I have."
The older doctor didn't even give Chase time to keep talking. "Once you have an ass, boobs, face, and figure like hers, I'll cut you some slack. Now shoo." He waved him off.
Chase didn't feel like that comment warranted a reply. He widened his eyes before leaving, causing House and Cameron to share a glance.
"Oh my god!" She ran up beside House as soon as Chase was out of view.
"Just a little perk you get when dating me."
Cameron smiled. "We're gonna get in trouble."
"If they get angry, I'll just fire them. They're replaceable. But you, my dear," House pulled her close to him, "are here to stay." He leaned in for a kiss and was reciprocated graciously as the young brunette pushed her lips against his. She moaned softly as he cupped her head and stroked her hair.
"We're bad."
House winked. "Just terrible."
"Can someone tell me why we ruled out POTS?" Robert Chase crossed his arms.
"He isn't dizzy." Foreman replied. "And he isn't bleeding- no surgeries, no reason for major blood loss."
"We didn't even try the tilt table test."
"Don't need to."
"I just think-"
House interrupted the two doctors. "Foreman, do the tilt test. Chase, go away."
Chase did a double take. "But he doesn't even think it's POTS!"
"I don't care." House leaned in. "You make me upset."
Foreman failed to interject and Chase just left the room with a huff. It didn't matter what he did, House refused to give him credit. He had obviously agreed with the diagnosis.
When the room was occupied by just House and Foreman, the neurologist questioned his boss. "Why are you making me do it? Why not Chase? He's the one-"
"Oh, stop it! I didn't hire a team to ask me questions. Go do your job, Foreman."
"That's kind of our job, House. To ask you questions and throw around options."
House tapped his cane, awkwardly. He wasn't thinking about Foreman and all of his existential issues. "Do your job or you're fired."
Foreman let out an annoyed huff. "You're unbelievable."
John T., the patient in question, answered a series of questions before Foreman could perform the tilt test.
"Have you eaten in the last two hours?"
"No."
"Have you been taking your usual medications?"
John said yes.
Foreman guided his patient to the examination room, strapped him in and hooked up the electrodes.
"Okay, I'm gonna start moving the chair. It should last about forty-five minutes. Just relax."
John shook his head. "Wow. This is fun- the most fun I've had in a while. With the exception of my trip to China."
Foreman continued the test, tilting the patient back and forth. John seemed to be taking it fine, until suddenly his body went limp.
"John!" Foreman ran into the room and called a code. "BP's dropping!" The doctor set him upright and handed him a drink high with electrolytes. John regained normal levels and Foreman returned him to his room. However, when John clutched his side, suddenly, Foreman lifted the gown and saw bruising on his upper right of his stomach. "Liver's bruised."
The team gathered in the glass room to go over the day's events.
"Well, that's unexpected." House stated.
"Yeah." Foreman sat back and crossed his arms.
House grabbed a file, "Check out the girlfriend."
Chase, Cameron, and Foreman all displayed shocked looks. "I didn't know he had a girlfriend."
House displayed a look of annoyance. "He has mono."
"Are you implying that he had to get it from her?" Chase accused. "He could have gotten it from a water fountain or something."
"The man ignored Cameron, kept worrying about his phone, and stared at a couple in the hallway for an hour. The guy's missing someone. And I doubt he's kissing mommy." House walked around the room. "Who wants to be the lucky participant?"
Nobody answered, so House took things into his own hands, "Okay, Wombat. You go."
"House was right." Chase mentioned to Foreman as they say together in the cafeteria. "His girlfriend's away in Boston. Found her number on his phone. She hasn't called or texted him. Doesn't seem worried about him." He shoved a forkful of salad into his mouth.
"Salad, now?"
Chase looked up, "Were you even listening to me?"
"Since when have you eaten salad?" He continued to ignore the question.
Dropping his fork, the intensivist grew hostile, "It's none of your business."
"Hmm," Foreman sat back. "Interesting."
Whether it was out of pure boredom or a desire to aggravate others, Foreman was nosing around in everyone's business. It bothered the rest of the staff, especially Cameron and Chase. Cameron was tired of him grilling her; Chase was angry that he even cared.
House held the phone to his ear, Melissa Green on the other line. Melissa was John's girlfriend and House needed to figure out if she was sick. He wouldn't let the team know if he had doubts anyway, but he needed to confirm.
"Hello?" A perky voice could be heard from the other line.
"Melissa?"
There was a pause before, "Who is this? John?"
"This is John's ghost. I am calling to curse you!" House drawled out the end of his words.
"What the hell? Is this some sort of sick prank? John? It's not funny. I'm busy!"
House regained all seriousness. "Not a joke. Just a look into your future if you keep lying."
It was obvious that the woman was confused and upset. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm a doctor at the world's best hospital. Your boyfriend's here. He's probably fine. Do you have mono?" He jumped quickly to his point.
"Um-" Melissa paused. "I- no?"
House's pager began beeping, so he hung up on the girlfriend and met his diagnostic team.
"We have three new symptoms," Cameron stated. "Anxiety, change in personality, and amnesia."
House repeated, "Amnesia."
"Yes. He didn't remember Foreman doing the tilt test. He barely recognized me." Cameron offered a new diagnosis, "Encephalitis, Wernicke's?"
"Doesn't explain the girlfriend."
Each doctor looked to him in surprise. "What does she have to do with it? We ruled out mono. Didn't expl-"
House cut them off. "She's hiding something."
"All partners hide things." Cameron spoke up, causing House's mind to wonder temporarily from the case. Why was she so eager to say that? He watched her movements. He was sure she was mentally taking it back. Allison's body shifted in her seat and she attempted a recovery.
"Even if she's hiding something, it doesn't mean that she's hiding a mysterious, contagious illness."
A painful silence entered the room and Foreman decided to break it. " It's not Wernicke's. It has to be fungal. He's not active, the only fun thing he did was go to China. Pretty mellow."
House didn't say a word, but left the room for the three diagnosticians to ponder together.
Wilson adjusted a picture on his desk when House came barging in.
"She's hiding something."
Wilson stared at Dr. House. "Am I suddenly supposed to be telekinetic?"
He rolled his eyes. "Allison. She's hiding something from me, or, at least defending it."
"Are you seriously worried that Allison is doing something bad? She is in love with you. She'd never cheat on you."
House turned his head. "Never said cheated."
The two men went quiet. Wilson decided to interject. "You're a jealous cow, House."
"I am no-" House began to yell before he came to a realization. He left Wilson hanging and rushed out the room. He went to see John T. immediately.
House entered the patient's room and grabbed a needle. Before John could get in a word of protest, House asked, "Have you had any blood transfusions lately?"
An obvious attempt to hide the fact was met with hostility from House.
"Blood transfusions? Come on! Lying now is stupid."
John didn't answer at a rate acceptable to the doctor.
"Been to China recently? Had some bad meat?"
Still comprehending everything coming in, John finally answered. "I went to China, yeah. What does that have to do-"
"You have Creutzfeld-Jakob Disease," House removed the needle. "Probably got it from tainted cow meat. Those damn Chinese."
"What? Like Mad Cow disease?"
"No, that would have been way less fun. Too predictable." House explained the rest to him. "You might want to get your girlfriend up here."
House was about to leave before John asked, "How long do I have?"
House looked down at the floor before scaling his eyes back up to John's face. "One, maybe two years." He left in a cold way, John clutching his cell phone.
"Hey, Melissa." He greeted.