TITLE: Chapter 3 It's not stalking.

AUTHOR: new_raven

PAIRING: none yet

RATING: PG 13

WARNINGS: none

SUMMARY: Chris gets discharged, but just can't stay away.

DISCLAIMER: House and his pretty friends don't belong to me.

SOUNDTRACK: .com/playlist?list=PL0E97EE610F950F6A&feature=mh_lolz

The girls' friendship developed quickly during their hospital stay. They were united by their common enemy and interest in scoping out cute doctors, nurses, and orderlies. Even patients were subject to their speculation and giggles. Rachel proved to be more than a ditzy cheerleader, and Chris found the opportunity to dispel rumors of her extensive drug use and sexcapades.

Rachel was mesmerized by her new mysterious cool friend. Chris just enjoyed feeling like a high school kid for a change. She never said as much, but Rachel reminded her of her sister Sarah. She was naïve but smart. She was inherently good and assumed that most people were the same.

When Rachel was feeling better they roamed the hall in their matching wheelchairs. They even escaped the floor so Chris could smoke.

"That's so bad for you." Rachel told her.

"I know. I'll give it up when I graduate, maybe." They were next to some bushes along the main parking lot when Chris saw House walking out of the front doors. "That's him. That's doctor House."

"Who him?" Rachel pointed to a man carrying a briefcase.

"No! Don't point." Chris pulled her hand away. "The one in the motorcycle jacket."

"With the cane?"

"Yeah."

Rachel squinted at him. After a few seconds she nodded. "Ok. I can see it."

"Don't let the cane fool you. He's strong. He had to pull me out of the car and hold me up to get me inside."

"Did he put his arm around you?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah."

"Around your shoulders or your waist?"

"Waist. Why?"

"Cosmo says that means he likes you."

"I doubt Cosmo was referring to emergency medical assistance."

"Did he cop a feel?" Rachel grinned.

"No, he did not. He thought I was sixteen at the time."

"How old are you?" Rachel asked as they watched House get into his car.

"Seventeen." Chris lied, but knew she'd blown her cover.

"Really?" Rachel didn't believe her. "You seem older."

"No, I'm twenty. Don't tell everyone though."

"Of course not. Why are you still in high school though?"

"I was sick. My sister and I were both sick for a while." Chris held her breath. This was an awful lot of self-disclosure for one week.

"You have a sister?"

"She passed away." Chris hated this term, but she went with it for Rachel's sake. She knew how much it stressed out other people, particularly therapists, when she used 'keeled over', 'kicked the bucket', or just 'died'.

"Oh Chris I'm so sorry." Rachel leaned over and put both her arms around Chris in an awkward wheelchair hindered hug. Chris regretted not going with 'kicked the bucket'.

"As much as I'd like to see how this plays out, you two should probably get back to your rooms where they don't allow smoking" House's car had pulled up beside them. He'd seen them from the other side of the parking lot. He wasn't sure, or wasn't willing to admit, why he'd felt the need to come over and spoil their fun.

"Yeah yeah we're going." Chris took one more good drag and dropped her cigarette. "Nice to see you too." She wasn't sure if she smiled in spite of the awkward moment and the annoying doctor, or because of them.

House strolled into the building a little after eight in the morning. It was much earlier than he usually bothered to show up, but he wanted to see the healthier of his two patients, before she was discharged. He stopped a few steps from the room. Through the windows he could see an elderly man in the bed and a middle-aged woman, pacing the room while talking on a cell phone. He turned and headed for his office.

"Who discharged my patient?" House greeted his staff.

"You did. She was cleared to leave this morning, but they needed beds last night."Chase shrugged. "Why, is something wrong?"

"No."

House decided it was for the best. He didn't need to see her again. He dropped a full Styrofoam cup into the waste basket, and blue liquid spilled out onto the white plastic liner. Foreman and Chase looked at it and then at each other.

"Is that a snow cone?"

Chris sat in the clinic going over her biology notes and watching the hospital's main lobby through the glass walls. Almost an hour after Dr. House was scheduled to be there she watched him step off the elevator. She had put his name next to her appointment time on the sign-in sheet and insisted that she had to see him personally for her follow up.

"Chris Ramirez, exam room three." The nurse announced and handed House the file, before he could even sign in.

Chris barely had a chance to climb onto the exam table before House came in. He maintained his gruff, clinic duty demeanor. He wasn't ready to admit to himself that he was happy to see her, much less give her that impression. He would treat her like every other needy, annoying patient.

She looked like the girl he'd met under the bleachers again. She wore ripped and faded, black jeans and a thin, gray hoody. Her hair was in a messy knot, clipped to the back of her head and a ring of black eyeliner was the only makeup on her face. She was watching him, obviously trying to get a feel for his mood.

"You could have seen any of my lackeys." He told her in a gruff tone.

"Oh." Chris shrugged and smiled at him. "I thought I needed to see you."

That wasn't true. She'd been told to follow up with Chase. A nurse had shown her where the clinic was when she was discharging. The nurse was a big fan of the clinic and had explained how every doctor had to work there a few hours a week. When Chris had seen House's name on the log book she couldn't resist coming to see him one more time.

"How did you even know I'd be here?" House sat on the little round stool and rolled towards her.

"They keep the schedule sitting at the nurses' station. I just had to look over the desk."

"How are you feeling?" House started checking her reflexes.

"A little pissed off. I got fired and I have detention for the rest of the semester, to make up my absences."

"They fired you for missing a football game?"

"Oh no, this was my other job."

"Any physical symptoms?"

"Not really. I'm more tired than usual." She began to unzip her sweater. "It's nothing an extra cup of coffee can't fix."

"What are you doing?" House asked.

"I assume you need to listen to my chest." She let the fabric slip off her shoulders and hang at her elbows. Underneath she wore a green tank top with a picture of the comic book character Poison Ivy and the words "pick your poison" on the front. It seemed appropriate, under the circumstances.

"Now I have to look at it too?" House smirked and pressed the cold stethoscope against her skin. He noted that the green brought out the olive tones in her pale skin and made no pretense of not staring down her shirt. "Deep breath."

She took the breath and released it slowly. "You never came back."

"Back from where?"

"Back to see me, while I was in the hospital."

"I solved the case. You were healed. My work was done." House stated.

"Oh?" She made it sound like a question.

"Oh?" House repeated.

"It just seemed like you were going to come back."

"That's part of the bedside manner. It's on your bill."

"I don't think so." She shook her head. "You have a crappy bedside manner."

"You prefer Chase?"

"That's not really fair. It's like comparing apples and kumquats." She wondered what kumquats tasted like and if she'd just insulted him.

"Have you ever had a kumquat?" He asked, sensing her hesitation.

"No, but I like trying new things."

Could she really be hitting on him? He moved the stethoscope to her back."Will you shut up so I can hear?"

She took a few more deep breaths while he finished. "You should have come back."

"Why?"

"You seem… fun. I thought we could…."

"Are you asking me out?" He cut her off.

"Oh God no." She furrowed her brow a little and shook her head. "I just got fired. You're a doctor. I'm not buying you dinner."

"Of course not." House looked at her file. "You seem to be healing right up. You're free to…"

"I was suggesting that you ask me out." She cut him off.

House studied her face. Was she joking? Could Wilson have put her up to this? "I don't date patients."

"I'm busy tonight anyway. Tomorrow I won't be your patient." She zipped her sweater.

"I was being nice. You're not my type." He wasn't counting hookers. Although, she would have been just his type twenty years ago.

"Ok." Her voice was calm as she stood to leave.

"Just ok? I'm rejecting you here."

"Should I argue? Beg? I think I'll survive." She moved toward the door.

"Why ask if you don't care?" House followed her.

"Why do you care if I care or not?"

"It doesn't make sense."

"Ego much?" She grinned.

"You sat in the waiting room for over an hour."

"How shall I go on? Doctuh House will not escort me to the Sizzler." She said in a monotone southern drawl and draped her hand over her forehead. "There, do you feel better now?"

"Much."

"Can I go now, or will you just keep following me?"

"Don't come back unless you're dying." He smiled and wondered if he should have asked her out.

She stepped out of the door and then right back in, as a little girl rushed by with a wheelchair followed by a security guard yelling at her. The guard caught up to the girl a few feet away from them and House and Chris watched as he tried to take the chair back from her. The girl was getting more and more frustrated, and finally she made a wailing unintelligible noise.

The room went silent and everyone in the waiting room looked up to see what would happen next. The guard ran his hand through his hair, as he explained that the chair wasn't a toy. The girl looked like she was about to cry, and made another noise. It was calmer but there were still no real words.

"She can't hear you." House said, scowling at the guard. He grabbed a pad and pen from the nurse's desk, and turned around to see Chris making what appeared to be gang signs.

"What's up?" Chris mouthed slowly, and repeated the gesture with a slightly different finger placement.

The girl unleashed a flurry of hand movements and Chris tried to follow them.

"Um parent? No mom…mooom?" Chris exaggerated the movement of her lips and the girl nodded and repeated her sentence a little slower. "Her mom is… in a car." Chris told House, or the guard, or anyone really.

"Where?" House asked and instructed.

Chris started to wave her index finger, but the girl was already pointing out the door and tugging at the wheel chair.

"Someone should probably follow her." House told the nurses. The older nurse nodded to a younger blonde, who went with the guard and the little girl.

A few people were still watching as the older woman thanked Chris. Chris's eyes darted around the room and she barely faked a smile. When the nurse asked if she could stay until a translator came down, Chris looked like she'd asked her for a kidney.

"I don't know that much. I … I might just confuse her."

"She's at least eight. She can write." House flopped the pen and paper down on the desk.

Chris didn't wait to see if the nurse accepted this. She was already inching towards the door and picking up speed the closer she got. House followed her into the mostly empty lobby.

"Where did you learn sign language?" He called after her.

She turned her face toward him but kept her body aimed at the door. "School."

"Public school?"

"Yeah, well they canceled it after the first six weeks and we all had to take French, but I kept the book." She rambled when she was uncomfortable. "It's online too. It's hard to tell if you're getting it exactly right, but I can still do some and…"

"You speak French too?" He was smiling at her.

"Oui." She nodded.

"D'autres langues?" His French was rusty but he was pretty sure that meant 'Other languages?' or 'sleeping languages?' She'd probably get the point.

"I can cuss in at least eight."

"Anale seks met condoom?" House winked.

"Is that German?" She laughed and her cheeks turned a soft pink.

"Dutch."

"I don't know how to say 'You should have taken me to the Sizzler.' in either, so I guess you'll never know." She laughed again and walked away. She managed to resist looking over her shoulder, but if she had, she would have seen him watching her until she was out the door.

Chris was standing by her locker right after the lunch bell rang. It was her short day and she had some time to kill, before catching her bus. She saw Rachel and a group of other girls heading toward the cafeteria. Rachel broke from the pack and approached her.

"Hey what do you do after school on Tuesday and Thursday?"

"Um nothing lately, but I'm looking for a job."

"We should be candy stripers."

"Why?" What Chris meant was, why her and not one of Rachel's cool friends.

"They did save our lives. We should give something back."

"Didn't your dad write them a huge check?" Chris pointed out. "Why do you really want to do this?"

"My dad says I have to get a job or volunteer somewhere until I graduate." Rachel admitted. "No job is going to work around practice and games and prom."

Chris nodded. "True. I wish I could. I really need another job though. I can't give up that kind of time for free. You should do it though."

"I don't want to go alone."

"Maybe Dr. Chase will keep you company." Chris smiled and shut her locker. "Seriously, I know it would be more fun with me there, everything is, but you can handle this alone."

"Yeah, I know." Rachel scrunched her nose. "Do you think I'll have to clean up puke?"

"Na, they'll probably have you taking balloons to kids or folding laundry."

A couple days later, Chris caught Rachel in-between classes.

"Hey, do you still want to volunteer?"

"Yeah, I was going to take my application up there after school."

"Can I still tag along?"

"Yeah that would be great, but what changed your mind?" Rachel furrowed her brow.

"I had a meeting with Mrs. Harmon. She said it would look really good on college applications. If it helps me get into a decent school it's worth as much as I'd make flipping burgers."

"Oh Chris, this is going to be so fun." Rachel's face lit up. She was more excited to know that Chris was considering going to college than anything else.

"Don't oversell it. We're still going to be hanging out at a hospital."

They filled out the necessary paper work and cited their life changing experience under Dr. House's care as a main motivator for wanting to give something back. They were accepted almost immediately. Their first task, as official candy stripers, was to decorate the pediatrics wing, for Halloween. They were also informed that there would be a Halloween party at the end of the month and that volunteers were highly encouraged to attend.

Rachel started working in the gift shop the next week. Chris was assigned to the book cart. They didn't see each other as much as they had expected, but still had plenty of time to compare stories and cute doctor sightings.