Chapter 19

House limped arrogantly into the physio department and stood just inside the doorway.

"Dianna!" House shouted at the top of his lungs. All of the patients and therapists turned to stare at him except one. She'd seen him coming down the hall, god bless glass walls, and had prepared herself for a theatrical entrance. Dianna finished noting the chart she held in her hands, placed it slowly in the tray beside the administration desk and then walked to where House stood.

"Good morning, Gregory. I see you're here only ten minutes late, you must be anxious to get started. Let's start on the stationary bike today, shall we?" Dianna kept her voice light, but firm. She wasn't going to take any crap from him, not on day one.

House looked her up and down, sizing up his adversary and trying to decide on the best way to get the better of her. She was a tiny woman, barely over five feet. He literally towered over her. She was thin, but muscular. She obviously took physical fitness seriously. She had short, red hair and fair skin, with a smattering of freckles across her nose. House guessed her age to be mid-thirties, just a few years older than Cameron.

"I don't do bikes, unless they have an engine," House told her.

"Well, then, lucky for you this one does have an engine," she told House, carefully kicking the shin of his good leg. "You're it."

House groaned. Did she really think that would work? Amateur, he thought.

"I'm feeling like 'the little engine that couldn't' today. Couldn't we start with something else?" House was just trying to push her buttons. His appointment had been at 10am; it was now already 10:15. He only had until 10:50, and then he was done for the day. The longer he wasted screwing with her, the less time to actually work.

"Sure, we could start with you paying up on the bets you're going to lose when I tell everyone you wouldn't get on the bike," Dianna said quickly. She'd been well warned, not only by Dr. Wilson, but also Dr. Cameron and Dr. Cuddy. In fact, since yesterday, she'd felt almost as if she was being briefed to go into battle. Perhaps this wasn't far from the truth.

House glared at her. Well, so much for stalling. He sat on the stationary bike, and then looked at Dianna. She adjusted the bike to the easiest setting for his first day, and glancing at the clock, set the timer for 50 minutes.

"Uh, Dianna sweetheart, I think you're having a blonde moment. 50 minutes means we won't be done until after 11. I won't have time to finish," House said, looking pleased.

"Nonsense, Gregory. I don't have another appointment until noon. I anticipated there might be a, delay, in getting you started today. Off you go," she smiled sweetly at him, but her eyes told him she wasn't fooling around.

House pouted, but began pedaling. After about ten minutes, he paused to remove his sport coat and button down shirt. He resumed pedaling, but was glancing at Dianna from time to time. She spent the entire session watching him. When his 50 minutes were finally up, House was sweating and sore. But, remarkably, his leg felt no worse than when he had started.

"Well done, Gregory," Dianna said. "I'll expect to see you Tuesdays and Thursdays at 10am, without exception. You may want to bring in something more comfortable to wear, we do have a locker area where you could change," Dianna indicated a doorway in the back of the physio department. "There are showers there too, in case you don't want to smell the rest of the day. We'll stick to the bike for the next few weeks, it's good exercise but it won't put any weight on your leg while you build up some muscle tone."

House grumbled at the appointments twice a week. Despite what most people thought, he did actually bathe, and was glad he'd be able to do so before returning to work. He glanced at Dianna again, as she was noting some things in his chart. She seemed like the business-like type, probably not one to want to talk. He'd see if maybe he couldn't push her buttons a bit better next week.

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House stepped into his office, but had barely made it to his desk when Cuddy entered from behind him.

"House, clinic." She turned and marched off without waiting for a reply. House stepped into the hall and started to yell something to her, but thought it might not be a good idea to piss off a hormonal Cuddy. He went to the clinic as ordered.

His first patient was waiting in Exam Room 1. House didn't even glance at the chart before walking into the room. He took one look at the elderly woman sitting on the exam table and smiled.

"Georgia," House said. "I haven't seen you in a while. What brings you here today?"

"Well, Dr. House, I've been feeling a bit run down lately. Just overly tired, and out of sorts. I know it's a little early in the season, but I'm afraid maybe my flu shot didn't work," Georgia said, and smiled sweetly at House.

House examined her quickly, and wrote a few notes in the chart. He smiled as he noticed her watching him closely.

"It's not the flu, just a cold. Stay in bed and get some rest. Rent a few Ashton Kutcher movies, they'll perk you right up," House grinned at her.

"Oh, I've discovered this actor, his name is Hugh Laurie. He's just lovely. Such pretty blue eyes, he has. And he's British," Georgia practically squealed, as though Brits were known for being hot. "He does resemble you a bit, Dr. House," Georgia drawled, and batted her eyelashes coquettishly. House squirmed, but had a sudden inspiration.

"Have you seen 'Girl from Rio'? Hugh Laurie stars in that; my girlfriend loves that movie," House told her, pointedly.

"Oh, your girlfriend. Well, maybe I'll rent that. Thank you, Dr. House." Georgia looked a bit disappointed, and House silently thanked Cameron for her obsession with the British actor. He smiled at Georgia, and slipped out of the room. He leaned against the door and sighed, what ever happened to a good old toy up the nose?

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House opened the door to Wilson's office and walked in without knocking. Wilson glanced up, but only long enough to confirm it was House, and not Cuddy, who had come in unannounced. House flung himself on the couch, let out a deep sigh, and waited for Wilson to ask him what was wrong.

Wilson, who was having a particularly bad day, didn't want to talk to House. He'd gotten bad results on a very young patient late the day before, and had spent a good part of the morning talking to her and her parents. He had a mountain of paperwork he needed to complete for another patient who was going to be entering a clinical trial for a new chemotherapy treatment. And, above all else, Cuddy still hadn't said anything about a baby. In fact, she was now avoiding him completely.

Wilson knew he had a bad reputation as far as relationships went. And it certainly wasn't undeserved. House was right; it was his pathology. He needed people who needed him. Why else become an oncologist? Nobody needs a doctor more than a patient with a potentially fatal disease? Why three failed marriages? Why remain friends with House for all those years?

House, quickly growing impatient with Wilson ignoring him, lifted his cane and began pushing the items on Wilson's desk around. Finally, House having tipped over a small potted plant and spilling the soil over most of the desk, Wilson looked up, grateful he'd forgotten to water the plant that day.

"You know, some people find it equally effective to announce their presence by saying 'hello' to the other occupants of a room," Wilson said dryly, gingerly lifting the papers on his desk to allow the soil to slide off.

"Yes, but my way is more fun," House replied. He sat up on the couch and began tapping his cane on the floor between his legs. Wilson understood this to mean he wanted to talk about something, and Wilson was to ask him.

"What?" Wilson asked shortly. Just because House needed to talk, didn't mean Wilson had to play the game they normally played.

"Chase is leaving," House said, his eyes never leaving the cane.

"Leaving the hospital? Leaving the state? Leaving his heart in San Francisco?" Wilson asked. He'd heard about this already from Cuddy, and he'd been waiting for House to find out. He was always upset when one of his fellows left. Partly because it meant he'd have to interview, partly because it meant adjusting to a new person, but also because he usually ended up liking them. Besides Wilson, the fellows were the closest thing House had to friends, and he was rarely glad to see one of them go.

"Leaving the department," House scowled. "He's taking an attending position in the NICU."

"When should we start interviewing?" Wilson asked.

"Soon," House answered, looking despaired. "He's leaving in two weeks."

Wilson nodded. He knew they'd have to start interviewing immediately. It had taken a month to find Cameron and nearly three to find Foreman when those spots had become available. This was the last thing Wilson needed right now.

There was a knock at the door, and Cuddy entered. Wilson looked at her, surprised, and Cuddy looked at House with clear annoyance. House grinned.

"She's pregnant, he might not be the daddy. Be nice," he said and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

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Foreman stepped out of Marcus' room and smiled. Things weren't wonderful between he and his brother, but they were definitely improving. Nichelle helped, of course. She was a natural peacemaker. Foreman hadn't been at all surprised to learn she was a school guidance counselor. And Foreman was quickly falling in love with his niece and nephew. Johnna, so named after Nicelle's father, was a sweet little girl whose biggest aspiration at the moment was to have a horse when she grew up. David, named after Foreman's father, was a very bright boy. He wanted to be a paleontologist when grew up. According to Marcus and Nichelle, he had been obsessed with dinosaurs from the age of two, when they had taken him to the Natural History Museum to see the T-Rex.

Foreman went to the conference room and gathered his things. He reflected to himself on his way home about how nice it was to spend time with Marcus and his family. He began to wonder if maybe he wasn't feeling a little jealous of his brother. He dated frequently, but had yet to find anyone he was willing to devote himself to. He'd always been so concerned about his career that the amount of time it takes to sustain a relationship and raise a family had seemed like a burden. Now he wasn't so sure.

When Foreman arrived at home, he skipped the hour he normally spent reading his medical journals before dinner. Instead, he did something he hadn't done in a while. He called his dad to say hi.