Diagnosis Is Far From Supernatural

Part VI

It was a stand off of the most unusual. On one side was an emo coiffed monster hunter and on the other side was a surly son of a bitch doctor. To call it epic would not do it justice. To call it oddly hot was something Dr. Lisa Cuddy felt might question her sanity. Or simply might explain the lack of an interesting sex life.

"House! What are you doing!" she snarled down at him.

"What does it look like? I'm on a date. Meet Sam. He likes long walks on the beach and gazing at beautiful bright sunsets. He's also kind of whiny. You think that might be problem?"

"Only if your level of maturity falls below mine. Which odds are it does," Sam retorted.

"Are you Sam Peterson?" Cuddy asked, ignoring House for the moment.

Sam noticed House silently guffaw at the mention of his "name," with an uneasy feeling.

"Yes, ma'am. Why? Has something happened to my brother? Is he okay? Is he"

"Whoa. Settle down, Bambi," House said, sharply poking at the younger man with his cane.

Cuddy, however, went into the patented "clingy parent" mode. She leaned down (House's eyes also went down) and touched Sam softly on the shoulder.

"It's going to be okay. Your brother's fever spiked for a moment but we were able to get it under control. I can take you to him right now," she reassured.

Sam saw House tapping his cane in major annoyance as the center of attention was currently not the jerk himself. For some reason, this greatly pleased Sam and gave him an idea. A very wicked idea.

He laughed inwardly. Time to unleash the secret weapon . Yes, with great big adorable eyes power comes great responsibility. Unfortunately, the recent long term exposure to his big lawbreaking brother had seriously eroded that responsibility.

It was using his gift for evil but sometimes you got to use it or lose it. Besides, Dean would so approve.

Sam turned on the full PUPPY DOG EYES OF DOOM upon the poor unsuspecting woman. She immediately fell into those deep eyes of woe and angst. The effect was instantaneous: ovaries imploding, heart rate quadrupling, brain scrambling, and other sad emotional malfunctions.

Before Cuddy knew it, her arms were tightened around Sam and she pressed him close to her chest and began to rock him. "There, there . . ."

House eyes bulged at the sight. "Hey, why is Silly Hair getting the boob pillow?! I'm crippled and waaay more full of woe!"

Sam looked over at House and sniffled dramatically. "You don't think Dean will die, do you?"

"Of course, not. It's going to be okay," Cuddy said, hugging him tighter.

"Oh, please. Grunge brother is not dying," House said, rolling his eyes.

"He's being very whiny," Sam said, with another "sniffle."

Cuddy glared at House "Yes, he is."

"If this doesn't stop I'm going to find one of the ducklings and throw up in their mouths," House declared, loudly.

"Wait. Don't you mean throw up in your own mouth?" Sam asked, confused.

"Nooo. Why would I do that? That's gross."

Cuddy pulled away from Sam with a sigh. "Let's go visit your brother."

House rose out of his chair. "Yes. Let's go see the other idiot. Maybe you can get Cuddy to service him some oral sex. Then he'll be instantly cured."

" House, you are not going. You are going to the clinic. Now !"

"Yeah, right. I think I'll just sit here and ponder pretty boy weapon arsenal. Then I'll go to clinic. . . after my soap opera."

"You think I'm pretty?" Sam said, grinning madly.

Cuddy could see a storm brewing and pushed Sam forward. "Don't tempt him. Let's go."

"No! You're not pretty! You're just . . . above average handsome!" House cried, somehow very lamely.

"Isn't that another way of saying pretty?" Sam whispered, to Cuddy.

"Just don't answer. He has to have the final word and if you don't answer then he won't follow. Hopefully ," Cuddy whispered, back.

House was grumbling loudly to himself as he pondered on how long he should wait before going after them.

"Hey, why are you still here?"

House looked up to see Wilson had returned. "I hear cries of injury from the clinic. They need you, Obi Wan House."

House rolled his eyes. "They need to go home and suck it up."

Wilson shook his head and wagged a finger. "Tsk, tsk. We cannot turn away an ailing person. Even if ailing person is faking, slumming or just here to be obnoxious and annoying."

House stood up and tapped his cane angrily. "Our two young patients are frauds."

Wilson blinked a few times. "Is that a fact or one of your wild delusions?"

"I 'borrowed' some of their various cardholder named credit cards. Very corny and very lame names, might I add. Anyway, I want to know why ."

"Why they're so good looking?"

"No, you insecure idiot. Why are they are pulling credit card scams!"

"Who's insecure? I don't feel threatened by them. So one's got really excellent hair. . ."

House strolled away purposely while Wilson was left to contemplate his middle aged looks.

Meanwhile with Dean . . .

Dean flicked through TV channels absently. He stopped suddenly on a channel with two deliciously buxom babes giving each other the tongue.

He smiled as he raised a plastic cup of orange juice to his lips. This whole hospital thing might not be so bad, he mused comfortably.

"Dean!"

Sam's sudden entrance startled Dean from his soon to be apparent climax. He pulled the bed sheet further up his body and put his juice back on the tray.

"Yes, mom," Dean responded, meekly.

Sam gave him a very dark look.

"I see something that's clearly swollen other than your throat."

"Don't worry. Yours will get that big when you're a big boy," Dean said, wisely.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Let's go home as soon as Dr. Cuddy can approve your release," Sam said, sighing heavily.

"Hey, what about that thing you might have? You know what Dr. Fingers Up the Ass talked about?"

Sam shrugged, suddenly distracted. "It's nothing. I already knew about it."

Dean looked over his younger brother sharply. "Keeping secrets from your older and wiser brother?"

Sam snorted. "Uh, what's with the wiser?"

"Don't get smart. What's going on?"

"It's nothing. Really, Dean."

Dean's eyebrows raised as Sam seemed to grow more uncomfortable by the minute. "Oh god! Dude, you got an STD! I told you not to sit on those gas station toilets!"

"NO!!" Sam hollered over him.

Dean laughed as Sam's eyes practically exploded out of his skull.

To be continued . . .