Disclaimer again: Everyone in this story besides Lettie belongs to someone else. But Lettie, she's mine. Paws off.
It had been a few weeks. House had been cranky, angry, and if he was honest, a little bit worried. He had more important things to think about though, so his inner monologue was not going to rehash every single detail. Basically, thermometer-ass had turned out to be a cop with ChiPs on his shoulder (ah, even his subconscious was pop-culture nostalgic and witty), and was making House's life pretty unpleasant. House knew that if the cop had his way, his life would become miserable. He hoped someone would stop the guy before it got to that.
Suddenly House saw something he didn't think he would see again, except for every Tuesday when his dreams had a free spot. It was a familiar ballerina, limping toward him. Thankfully he noted, not limping more than last time. Even better, he could hear from her jacket pocket as she approached him, the faint rattle of pills. She wasn't coming back for more Vicodin. Now with ass-cop Tritter in his life, that was the last thing he needed. He saw her finally look him in the eye and with appropriate disapproval and the correct amount of down-his-nose-ness, Dr. House said "Lettie, I believe. Did they not let you dance the Sugar Plum Fairy, so you decided to quit on them? Or did they tell you that only ducks waddle and you were out of Swan Lake?" He saw that his acid tone did nothing to her countenance and thought, "Stupid ballet schools, they turn out little ice queens. I can tell Cameron never took a class; she cares too much."
"I didn't come about my hip, the pills work fine. A masseuse said I probably just pinched a nerve anyway and it wouldn't be permanent." She was actually wearing shoes and pants today, the jacket and loose hair suggested she had a day off. House was a little disappointed that she didn't always wear leotards and tights. It blew the illusion a little. "So besides rubbing it in my face that you didn't ask me to give you a rub down, what do you want me for this time?" She shifted uncomfortably and looked around. Almost like she thought she was being watched. So House said "Would my office be better?" She nodded and he led her down the hall.
When they were safely inside the office she spouted loudly and, it seemed to House, with more force than she intended, "What did you get me into?! I came to see you because I was hurting, and then a week later a cop was at my rehearsal asking how regularly I saw my supplier!!" She looked at him with an absolutely furious glare and then threw her hands in the air. "If I had known the police were into dogging people with legitimate problems I really would have gone to the street corner! Do you seriously deal drugs from the clinic?" House grabbed his giant tennis ball, tossed it to her and as she caught it, said "I'm not answering you until you throw this as hard as you can against the wall." She hesitated and he said, "Not answering. I do not want you still angry so you fly over here and hit me."
She moved the ball to her throwing hand and hurled it against the wall. It ricocheted off the opposite wall before coming to rest near her feet and House, without thinking much explained what he had done. He was rounding his story to a close, "So now, since he has the proverbial stick, literal thermometer up his ass… he is taking it out on me. And trying to get to me by making hell for everyone I touch." Before he got the sentence properly closed Lettie picked up the tennis ball he had forgotten to retrieve and hurled it at his head.
"You bastard!" She was amazingly, or purposefully, less accurate this time and only managed to scare him as the ball whizzed past his head. "You almost got me fired, my entire job thinks I am addicted to painkillers. I said I wanted an addiction, and I was serious. But I only wanted one if it was real! I am not addicted to the pills, hardly ever take them, and then this cop shows up suggesting to my Director that she might want to send me to rehab for something my Doctor had done to me! I don't even know you!"
House rested his head on the head of his cane. He took several deep breaths, and reached into his desk drawer to his secret-secret stash, one Tritter hadn't found yet. He took two pills out, swallowed them, and then turned back to the pacing young woman on the other side of the desk. "Come here," he said. She walked over to the desk. "No, here." He motioned her closer. She came all the way around to his chair; with her fist balled in a way his jaw did not care to think about. He grabbed her hand and jerked it down so that she was squatting to look into his eyes.
"Did you convince them you are not an addict?" She bit her lip and said with a faint pout, "Only after someone stayed with me for three days to make sure I was taking an "appropriate amount" of medicine. Thankfully they have no idea what appropriate is, so when she saw me only take three-quarters of one pill in three days, she told them I hardly took any at all." She looked down and he pushed her chin back up with the end of his cane. "Did they let you keep your job?" Lettie tried to keep the tears out of her eyes as she said, "Only if I can give a satisfactory answer about why a cop was after me. What do I tell them? I can't tell them what you really did. God Dr House, that just reeks of a lie, I almost don't believe it but I have spent two minutes with you." As she sunk down to sit dejectedly on the floor, one tear tumbled out of her eye and she beat her cheek angrily with her still-balled fist.
House was silent for a minute, his inner monologue still working, but fewer guffaws and less snappy now. "She really does love dancing. Have I ruined it for her?" His mind settled on the answer even as the excuse came out of his mouth. "I will send you to my boss. If you can pull your eyes away from her amazing rack, tell her what you told me. Not the three quarters of a Vicodin part, but the part about you seeing me in the clinic and Tritter bothering you about seeing me. The job thing. Tell her you will have your bosses call her, and I know she will not let you fall because of me. Unlike me, she has a shred of decency."
He stood up and held out his came for her to grab onto. She used it to help herself up and started piecing her composure back together to walk out into the hall. As she started to open the door, House noticed she had a penchant for dramatic exits (much like he did) she said "Well, thank you Dr. House, that was, surprisingly, decent of you." "If you need more sarcasm and ogling, feel free to call." That was his reply. The door swung shut, Lettie limped slightly down the hall, out of his view. He avoided wondering if she could do splits all the way to the floor. He wondered if that made two decent things in one day.
A/N: I have a short Chapter 3 and a full Chapter 4 ready to go up, but I am waiting until I can see if I want to end the story for a while (when that new ep in Jan comes on) or if I can continue a little from one new set of content. So 3 & 4 will go up slowly.