TITLE: Chapter 5: Theories
AUTHOR: new_raven
PAIRING: House/Chris suggested
RATING: PG-13ish
WARNINGS: none
SUMMARY: House and Chris have the same taste in soaps. The cheerleading squad helps the hospital raise money.
DISCLAIMER: House and his pretty friends don't belong to me.
SOUNDTRACK: .com/playlist?list=PL0E97EE610F950F6A&feature=mh_lolz
The cafeteria was all but deserted. It was well after the lunch rush, and the few desperate souls that came for dinner wouldn't start showing up for hours. Chris sat at a booth with a cart, piled full of boxes, beside her. On the table, she had several stacks of STD pamphlets, a rubber stamp, and an ink pad.
"What are you doing in here?" House asked, walking up with a tray.
"Trying to figure how I got this rash." She said sarcastically, as she stamped a pamphlet and moved it to the next stack.
"You want me to give it a look?" He offered.
"Maybe later," She grinned. "What are you doing in here?"
"Cuddy usually looks here first, so I assume she's already been here twice." He set his tray across from her. "Do you mind if I change the channel?" He asked, already moving towards the TV mounted on the wall.
"Um yeah, actually I do. My stories are coming on."
"So are mine, go watch the TV in my office." He pressed the channel button with his cane and found that the TV was already set to the right station. "You watch Prescription Passion?"
"I used to watch it with my mom. It's been years though, I'm still catching up."
"What's there to catch?" House sat down across from her, as the show started.
"Ok, there." Chris pointed to the screen with the stamp. "What is Harriet doing with Lebron?"
"That's not Lebron. It's Victor, trapped in Lebron's body." House took a bite of his sandwich.
"Oh of course! That makes so much sense now." Chris stole a French fry while she didn't think House was looking. "Does Harriet even know?"
"No." House shook his head, with an evil grin.
"Wow." They watched quietly until the next commercial break, and then Chris asked. "So did Sierra and Phoenix ever get together?"
"No way, she's with Carter."
"Carter? He framed her for arson." She eyed his fries as she spoke.
"She was stealing from him and sleeping with his sister." He turned the plate so that the fries were closest to her.
"He was sleeping with her sister too." Chris took another fry and gestured with it as she spoke. "She was the only one in the hospital that could keep up with him, and he just couldn't take it."
"He realized that after the volcano erupted." House nodded.
"Volcano? Aren't they supposed to be in New England?"
"It's Passion. You're expecting way too much continuity."
She laughed. "Right, I still can't believe she got with Carter."
"What's so wrong with Carter?" House asked. Carter happened to be one of his favorite characters.
"What's not wrong with him? He's an evil, rude, compulsive liar. Ever since he pushed Lana off that bridge, I just can't forgive him." She reached for his cup, and paused to see if he would protest.
"You're getting me a refill." He gave a single nod. "Lana was useless. She couldn't even dial a phone to save her life."
"Well yeah, but does that mean she deserved to die?" She sipped his lemonade.
"On this show it does." He nodded.
"Ok fine, but I still don't like Carter." She wrapped a rubber band around her stack of pamphlets, and started a new one.
"He found Geneva when she was trapped on the island."
"She never would have been trapped if he hadn't sabotaged her first solo flight."
"He's about to find the VanNewtonshireburg Diamond." House said, and laughed a little when her jaw dropped.
"WHAT? They still haven't found the diamond? He can't get it. Cornelius needs it for the laser!" Chris flapped a bi-lingual herpes pamphlet at him, in her excitement.
"HOUSE," Dr. Cuddy's voice boomed through the cafeteria.
His eyes got really big and he covered his mouth with his fingers, in mock horror. "I think I'm in trouble."
Cuddy stomped over to them, her heels clacking on the linoleum. "Please tell me, that you did not stab your patient in the genitals."
"I did not stab my patient in the genitals." House repeated.
"My office! Now!" Cuddy pointed.
"Let me know if they find the diamond." House pushed his tray towards Chris and stood to leave.
Cuddy turned to her. "I'm sorry you had to hear that Ms." She read her volunteer badge. "Ramirez."
"I didn't hear a thing." Chris shook her head.
"Good." Cuddy followed House out of the cafeteria.
As House approached the parking lot, he could see traffic piled up around the side entrance. He was expecting some accident or catastrophe. Instead, he was greeted by a young blonde, in cut off shorts, waving a poster board that advertised $30 car washes. He surveyed the line, before maneuvering his motorcycle to the front.
He pulled up next to a sedan that was being ineptly scrubbed by giggling girls, including Chris and Rachel. A boom box on the curb was blasting pop music. Chris didn't even know he owned a motorcycle. When she looked up and saw him on it, with his jacket open and red t-shirt peeking out from underneath, it actually took her breath away.
Her outfit had a similar effect on him, as she dropped her sponge and strutted over. She wore a white Max Headroom t-shirt and sweat pants, cut off at the knee, with "Juicy" scrolled across the butt. Both were soaked and plastered to her frame. Her red bra stood out like a welt under her shirt. The rest of the girls were showing twice as much skin.
"Hey House, I'll wash your crotch rocket for half price." She was surprised and a little proud of her own brazenness.
"You're causing a traffic jam."
"That's why we're not in front of the building."
"It's a safety hazard."
"Only for dirty old men with high blood pressure." She grinned.
"I'm sure there are none of those at this hospital." His tone was sarcastic.
"Oh come on. It's for a good cause. Some good had to come from this heat wave." Her smile was genuine and House felt the corners of his mouth curving upward despite himself. "I'll take good care of her." Chris stroked the bike with a mostly dry hand.
House turned it off, and dropped the kick stand. Just as he was climbing off, the sedan pulled away and the gaggle of cheerleaders surrounded him. It took only minutes for them to wash and rinse the small bike. House stood far enough away to stay dry, but close enough to jump in if they broke something.
"I'll finish this." Chris offered. "You should start that guy. He's getting peeved." She motioned to the next car in line.
The other girls flitted away, sloshing suds behind them. Rachel gave Chris a pointed look, before joining the others. Chris half-heartedly began drying the seat of the bike. House was leaning against the hood of an SUV.
"I have to confess… I have no idea how to get this dry enough for you to drive it away." She draped her towel over one of the handle bars.
"I have a theory." House said.
"I bet you have lots of them." She leaned against the SUV, not realizing she was mimicking his stance. "What's your theory?"
"You wear the vintage t-shirts to remind me of my youth, so I'll be more receptive to a younger woman."
"That's a good theory, except I wear these everywhere. Kids at school don't remember the 80's any more than I do. Plus… weren't you like thirty in the 80's?"
"Not until the end of the 80's."
"I shop in thrift stores and donation bins. Band tees are easier to rock than leisure suits and bridesmaid dresses."
"You still maintain that your volunteering here has nothing to do with me?"
"Some things aren't about you, you know?" She fought the urge to turn and face him.
"I may be a narcissist, but I'm not oblivious."
"Yeah," she nodded and felt that warm rush in her chest that told her she was about to do something very important or very stupid. "I admit that seeing you wasn't exactly the worst case scenario, when I was thinking of applying here, but it wasn't a deciding factor, either. It's just a perk, like the free, hot coffee."
"What was the deciding factor?" House wasn't satisfied.
"The hospital offers a scholarship, for one student with at least one hundred volunteer hours." She turned to him and lowered her voice. "It used to be forty-grand. This year it's only ten, but there was some clerical error, and it hasn't been publicized at all. Currently there are no eligible applicants. I have three months to do 100 hours."
"There are scholarships everywhere."
"My transcript is a train wreck, and I'm too old for a lot of money aimed at seniors. Ten-grand will get me through community college, without having to work four jobs, and then I'll have those two years to stand on, instead of the last six."
"And you learned about this how?"
"Officially? I read it in my guidance counselor's email, while she was… out of the room, and may have deleted the email, so she wouldn't share it with other students. Unofficially, I have an awesome guidance counselor."
House nodded, not especially surprised. "You know money from the hospital will have strings attached. Do you want to be a doctor?"
"Sure, why not? Doctor, lawyer, unicorn tamer," her voice dripped with sarcasm. He might as well suggest she swim the English Channel on her way home. She could barely get through high school, there was no way she'd ever be a doctor. "Statistically, I'll be lucky if my job title doesn't start with 'crack' or end in 'whore'."
"There's a quote for your essays." He smirked.
She laughed. "I just have to do something in the medical field. It's a broad field. I'll probably go for lab tech or something."
"Boring." He seemed almost offended that she would consider something so average.
"I can handle boring." She turned to face him directly. "I cannot handle losing volunteer hours. So could you stop telling people that I'm a stalker."
"It would be easier if you'd stop stalking me."
She threw her hands up, exasperated. "Whatever, I have to get back to work." She grabbed the towel off of his bike, and headed for the car that had just pulled up.
"Wait."House called.
"What?" She turned back to him. He had taken a bill from his pocket and was holding it out to her. Her face didn't register any surprise that it was a fifty.
"Keep the change. It's for a good cause." He said.
"I have a theory." She moved in a little closer than necessary. "That you've got a twenty on you, but you pulled out a fifty on purpose. That's to remind me that doctors make lots of money, so I'll be more receptive to an older man."
"You're welcome." He wondered if she was right.
"Thanks. You just put us over six-hundred." She turned to walk away from him.
"Six hundred? You're not even doing a good job." He raised his voice.
"Boys are easy. We're even helping out the coffee cart."
House followed her gaze to the small lawn and walkway that led to the side doors. The vendor was parked in his usual spot. House had rarely seen more than two people in line there. Now it was surrounded by mostly male patients and staff, including his team and Wilson, all drinking from brown paper cups.
Just then a Lady Gaga song ended, and the DJ's voice blared over the airwaves. "That one goes out to the Lady Wildcats of Plainsboro High School." The girls started squealing and shouting. "Stop by Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital before five o'clock, for a car wash from the Lady Wildcats." The girls got even louder.
"These girls could organize anything. We have PR. There's a cotton candy machine on its way. If they'd had another days notice we'd have matching outfits and a choreographed dance routine."
"Then you could charge admission and drop the car wash act." House was climbing onto the still damp motorcycle.
"You just wish you'd driven the car this morning."
"Yeah, now I have to get my bike washed for real."
Chris watched him drive away before joining the others at the next car. House drove around to his usual spot, and then went directly to the side lawn to yell at his staff.
"Get back to work." House told all three of them.
"We don't even have a patient." Thirteen replied.
"Not you. You can stay. I want an oral report on everything you've observed, right before I go home." He turned to Foreman and Chase. "You two find something to do."
"We're not harming anything." Chase argued.
"Now!" They gave up and left, but dragged their feet, until the car wash was out of view. Thirteen followed.
"What was that about?" Wilson asked.
"They're wasting time." House said, idly glancing at the car wash.
"I know what that was about. I meant your chat with the cheerleader."
"She's not a cheerleader." House corrected him.
"But now you're picturing her in the outfit aren't you."
"It's inappropriate. This is a hospital not a pep rally and it's October. They could all catch pneumonia and the hospital would be liable."
"It's over seventy degrees out. They're applying sunscreen."
"They're all teenagers."
"Not Chris."
"How do you know her name?" House asked.
"I introduced myself a few days ago. She seems nice, smart, funny..."
House grunted. "She's not your type. Not needy enough."
"I think she is. She hides it well, and she's too proud to admit to needing anyone. That just means you're off the hook, if you don't meet her needs."
House was scowling at him.
"You like her." Wilson smiled. "If you didn't like her you'd already be sleeping with her. You should ask her out."
"She's twenty-one." Even House new this was a feeble excuse, coming from him.
"That's a bad thing?"
"She's half my age."
"Since when do you care what people think of you? Is this some reverse midlife crisis?"
House was silent. He looked across the lot at Chris, and then up at nothing in particular.
Wilson pondered for a moment, and then his face lit up with equal parts hope and surprise. "You care what people think of her. You're protecting her, from you. It's so self aware, so… caring."
House just rolled his eyes, grabbed Wilson's coffee, and went inside.