Thanks for the reviews! A bit of profanity in this one.
In the MRI room Chase and Cameron sat still, staring at the screens in front of them. Caramia was lying prone on scanner in the room in front of them, about to slide into the machine. Chase leaned forward and pressed down the button on the intercom.
"Hold still. This won't take but half an hour."
Caramia was about to say something, but remained silent, a small frown on her face. There weren't many good comebacks for lying down waiting to enter a big, rather intimidating piece of medical machinery. Amid a few beeps and flashing lights she was slid into the machine slowly.
Chase glanced at Cameron, noting that she was engrossed in the imperfect file of Miss Fuentes. She flipped through a few pages and sighed, putting the skimpy file on the desk in front of her, monitoring the screens.
"Do you know if we can get in touch with any of her relatives?" Cameron asked, turning to Chase.
The other doctor shrugged and pulled out his cell phone, sliding it open and beginning to type furiously on the keypad.
"Really?"
Chase looked up. "What?"
Cameron rolled her eyes. "We're supposed to be supervising the patient." She said, making a great case for her undeniable ability to state the obvious in any situation.
"I know." Chase said, sliding his phone into his lab coats pocket. "See?" He held up his hands. "Nothing there!"
"You're impossible." She turned back to the flickering screens, watching each cross section waver slowly into focus. "Who were you texting anyway?" She asked, not looking up at him.
Chase glanced at her before turning to his own screen. "None of your business." He said, almost teasing her. She looked up at him and glared. He smiled back and she gave him a light shove on his shoulder.
"You're so immature." He said, faking whining.
"You're the one acting like a child." She replied.
Chase suddenly stuck his tongue and then quickly turned away. Cameron bit her lips, turning them into a thin line before she cracked and laughed a bit. Chase smiled and then turned back to the screens.
"She's still doing fine." He pressed the intercom button. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm in a three foot by two foot cylinder of gamma waves and magnetic radiation because I might have anything from cancer to a merely wasted time, how do you think I feel doctor?"
"Understood." Chase sat back in his chair and shook his head. "What a bitch." Cameron shrugged, watching the MRI screens as new crossections scrolled down.
"I don't see anything." She said, her eyes focused on the brain. "Why isn't Foreman here?"
"He'll see it later." Chase reasoned. A silence fell between then and suddenly they heard a strange whirring sound. Cameron jumped, looking over at the machine's stats. It was fine. Caramia was stable. What on earth-
Chase pulled out his phone and Cameron resisted the urge to throw it into the MRI room. Chase frowned at his screen, sent off a quick text and then slipped his phone out of sight again. He looked at Cameron and shrugged under her glare.
"What?"
"You're repeating yourself."
"She's fine."
Cameron noticed a slight shift in the images and pushed the intercom. "Hold still."
"I am."
Chase frowned and Cameron quickly stood up. "Turn it off! She's about to have a seizure!"
"She has a shake, not a seizure." Chase said, trying not to be condescending.
"I'm telling you-"
Suddenly the images began to get blurry, and Caramia's appendages began to shake and thrash inside the machine. Chase barely had time to say the words 'oh shit' before Cameron shut off the machine and ran into the room. She pressed the red button on the side of the machine and Chase followed her, yelling for a nurse.
Caramia's body slid slowly out and her seizures continued as Chase and Cameron tried to restrain her. Violent thrashing pushed against the two doctors and Chase was afraid he might break her arm restraining her wild movements.
"Ah!" Chase looked up as Cameron stepped away from the patient, holding her arm. Caramia has managed to pull on Cameron's shoulder so hard that she could barely feel her fingers. Chase Quickly reached over and tried to restrain Caramia, a hand on each shoulder.
The nurses began pouring in, two carrying a stretcher. A few more helped chase hold down Caramia and quickly transferred her to the stretcher, strapping her down tight enough to bruise.
The two doctors were left alone in the MRI room after the nurses had left to take the patient up to her room to deliver some sedation.
"Are you alright?" Chase asked Cameron, putting an arm around her and leading her out of the room.
"I'm fine."
"I don't believe you." Chase said steering Cameron towards the physical therapy sectors.
"Chase-"
"Shut up."
Luckily for Doctor House, the patient whose meeting he would have interrupted had just exited Wilson's office. House in fact, held the door open for her as she walked away. Stepping inside of his friends office, he sat in the comfortable chair in front of the paper-littered desk and propped his feet up on the bright new nametag Wilson had just bought for himself.
"What do you want?"
"You sound so happy to see me." House said, frowning slightly. "Is there something remiss?"
Wilson shoved House's legs off his desk and threw the other man a dirty look. "Yes. You're presence is remiss."
"I don't think that's the proper use of the word remiss." House said, tapping the side of his face lightly with his cane. He lowered his legs slowly to the ground, massaging his right thigh.
"I don't care." Wilson said, his eyebrows raising as he began to try to organize his office. "Why are you here?"
"Why are any of us here?" House asked brightly, looking up at the ceiling as if it would give him answers.
"Don't act like you're religious."
"Who said I was?"
"Why are you here again?" Wilson asked, pointing at him with a handful of papers that was obviously meant to make it appear as if he was actually doing something.
"How likely is it that this woman has brain cancer?"
Wilson frowned and sat down slowly as House watched him, his hands tucked under his chin, supported by his cane. "Any particular reason."
"I like to know my odds." House said, staring up at the man.
Wilson thought for a bit. "Without the test I can't be sure-"
"Odds."
"I would give it about a twenty-five percent chance" Wilson opened, staring at his desk.
"Good enough for me!" House said, standing up and beginning to walk our of Wilson's office.
"That it isn't cancer."
House stopped with one hand on the knob out of the office. Oh dear. This did complicate things. He sighed and half-turned to Wilson. "What if I said it wasn't cancer?"
"I'd say you were probably wrong."
"Great. I always wanted to be a monk."
"What?" Wilson was confused.
House leaned against the open door. "I told Cuddy that if it wasn't epilepsy that I wouldn't complain for two weeks."
"Why would you do that?"
House stared up at the ceiling again. "No reason."
Wilson frowned. "What if it is epilepsy?"
House shrugged. "I get to pick my cases and get more liberal ok's on whatever sort of shit I want to put my little puzzle pieces through. Do you think I can get a polygraph?"
"If it's not epilepsy, I want you to ask her on a date."
House looked at Wilson sharply, his bright eyes glittering. "How about if it's brain cancer?" He asked. "But if it isn't, I'll get something from you."
"What do you want?" Wilson asked, slightly amused.
House thought, his mouth pursed slightly. "I want you to get yourself a hooker."
"I have a girlfriend!"
"I have a reputation." House said, staring at Wilson.
It took a few minutes of an intense staring contest to get Wilson to back down.
"Deal." He said, sighing.
"Done!" House said, smiling and slipping out of the office.
Wilson shook his head and turned around in his chair, beginning to reorganize his shelves. It was only a few minutes later that he realized that if House was right about this girl, he wouldn't be any worse off for it.
Fuck.
Tell me what you think!