Wilson followed House discreetly out of the hospital, on the lookout for any signs of Cuddy. He was so busy looking that he slammed into a rather short white haired man.
"Argh!" He yelled as the stack of papers he was carrying fluttered to the ground.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry," Wilson said as he bent to pick up the papers. The man looked at him.
"Dr. Wilson?" Wilson straightened up, squinting at the man.
"Judge Morrison!" (For that, of course, is who the man was). "Uh, what are you doing here?"
The judge took the stack of papers," looking for House, actually. Have you seen him?" The oncologist glanced around Morrison's shoulder at House who was hiding behind a fern.
House made a motion with his hands, which Wilson took to mean: Send him to the maternity ward!
"He's behind you."
Morrison turned and rolled his eyes in annoyance."That man." He strode over to the potted plant and glared at House, who was still ducked behind it.
"Morri! Here to take me up on that offer for a drink? It's quite all right, good man, you can pay," House said in a startling attempt at a British accent.
"House!" The three men turned to see the confused face of Lisa Cuddy. "What's going on here?"
House pointed at Morrison. "Ask him. S' far as I know, I didn't do anything that illegal." Cuddy snorted. Yeah right.
"This is a personal matter. Could we possibly discuss this in another room, Dr. House?" House took two hobbles before stopping in shock.
"No."
"Excuse me?"
"That's impossible."
"What is, House?" Cuddy was losing her patience.
House still looked too surprised to speak. Wilson thought a moment. House was right; he hadn't done anything revoltingly illegal lately. No abuse to any interns. No one had even sued him in the past month. Nothing that would interest the judge ruling over most of House's lawsuits. Unless…
"It does make sense," he admitted after a minute's pause. Cuddy was red with irritation.
"What does? God dammit, you two, tell me already!" House coughed.
"Well, Cuddles, when a man pays a woman a lot of money for her to-" Wilson cut him off, before he could finish that particular graphic statement.
"House has a daughter."
I tapped a complicated rhythm on the leather armrest of the car. I wasn't a particularly patient person, especially when it came to mysteries. Who was this guy? Fantasies from my childhood came rushing back, quickly shattered by the facts that I already knew.
Judge Morrison obviously knew my father; otherwise he wouldn't have reacted so quickly. Was my dad some kind of crime lord doctor? Did he molest the judge's wife? Maybe he was dying of cancer. My mind went around in answerless circles. Finding the missing piece could solve most puzzles, but with some, you just had to wait for the answer.
The car jerked to a stop in front of a large brick red building. I got out and stretched my legs. The building looked like some kind of fancy hospital, presumably where my dear daddy worked.
I followed Ms. Social Worker from Hell into the lobby. People and nurses were bustling about, half of them probably pretending that they had somewhere important to be.
"WHAT?" A woman yelled rather loudly. Several people stared, and a nervous man in a white coat shot her a look. Intrigued, I looked over the man she was supposedly yelling to.
He was tall, about 4 inches taller than me. He was unshaven, and wore white Nike sneakers. He leaned lazily on a cane; but I could tell he was in pain by the way he grimaced every so often.
Something about this man interested me.
"Hey! Emo kid!" I jumped, but the surprise was quickly replaced with irritation. "I didn't know teens these days were turned on by old men."
I glared. "Shows how long ago you lost it. Or maybe you never even had it."
"I was never into fads."
"Doctor House! I do believe we need to discuss these matters somewhere… else."
"Ms. Kennedy, this involves you as well. Please follow me." He didn't look surprised to see me here. Since Morrison was here, that meant that my father was here. So it was either 'Doctor' House or the younger looking one. Down the hall, I could see Brown rushing towards me. Crap.
"Alright! Let's go! Off we trot into the magical world of Exam room…3!" I ushered the four adults inside and closed the door. House smirked as though he had just figured something out.
"Do you do that with all your problems?"
"Huh?" I said.
"Run away. Just close the door on it. Clever actually. Ignore something until it goes away. Simple human philosophy." I looked at him.
"Do you feel the need to analyze every living thing you come in contact with, Dr. House?"
"Only if they're less boring than the people around them. How do you know Morrison?"
"I'm a drug dealer. Heroin, coke, you name it, I got it."
"Nice try. You're eyes aren't bloodshot, you're not pale, and the state of your sneakers show that you couldn't afford another pair if you wanted to."
"You got me, Doc. I'm a pro juggler slash mime and have been assigned to monitor Morrison's every move. Actually, I'm secretly recording him right now so that I can kill him in his sleep," I said.
"Right. Ms. Kennedy," Morrison stood behind me. Apparently he'd heard every word I'd said. Whoops. "I'd like you to meet someone."
"Yeah?"
"This is your father, Alana: Dr. House."
Damn.