Sabotage
A.N. No spoilers, but things will be heating up soon. As always, thanks for persevering. I'm having more fun with this story than I could have imagined.
House left the clinic and made his way to the nurse at the desk. "Dr. Gregory House, signing out at...", he checked his watch, "...5.03".
"It's 4.48, Dr. House". The nurse didn't even both to look up from her papers.
"Well, Brenda", retorted House, glancing at the woman's name badge, "we'll just have to agree to disagree, won't we? But don't worry, it's a free country. No thought police here are going to cart you off to Room 101 for challenging a member of the Inner Party". House winked at the woman, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, before carrying on: "speaking of Big Brother, if you happen to see She of the Big Breasts, be a lamb and tell her I clocked off at 5.30?".
"But you've just signed out at 5.03".
"Damn, you're right", he replied, giving the problem a moment's reflection. "Bah, she won't know the difference between those numbers, will she? Between you and me, I heard a rumour that she became Dean of Medicine by using certain assets more than others".
Nurse Brenda rolled her eyes. She had heard it all before.
House considered expanding on the theme, but he caught sight of Wilson talking to the new blonde nurse in paediatrics (about whom they had an ongoing bet) and thought it was too good an opportunity to miss. "Good chat, Glenda. I always enjoy our discussions".
With that, he scooted off to find a more convenient vantage point, leaving the receptionist shaking her head. The large shrubbery near the pharmacy offered excellent cover, and from here he looked fondly at the rows of pills, a reminder of his past life. Refocusing on the task at hand, he crouched down next to the plant, hoping to eavesdrop on the conversation between his friend and the nurse.
The pharmacist, who had been filling out a prescription in the back office but had now returned, craned his neck over the partition and peered downwards. "Err, Dr. House? What are you doing?".
"Growing my own pot plant", he replied without looking up. "Cops never think to look in hospitals; it's the perfect crime".
"Right", answered the pharmacist, turning back to his work.
But an idea struck. "Actually, perhaps you could help me with a medical problem I'm having".
"Oh?". The young man brightened, pleased to be consulted on a professional matter by the best doctor in the hospital. "Something to do with your leg, perhaps?".
"What? Oh, nothing like that. No, I'm wondering if you can tell me anything about Dr. Desperate and Nurse Goldilocks over there".
"Ah". House was in no position to see the look of crushing disappointment on the other's face. "I'm afraid I don't know anything of use, beyond the fact that I've noticed them talking a fair bit. But that's nothing special—lots of people talk to her".
"How much is 'a fair bit'?".
The man shrugged. "A few times a week? Hard to say with any exactitude since observing people is not, in fact, part of my job description".
"Too bad. Have you got any pills to boost hearing in there?".
"I'm afraid not. Now, if you don't mind, I have some more prescriptions to fill".
But House had already moved on. With surprising agility, he leapt to his feet and bounded towards a young couple with a toddler in tow. The parents were engrossed in their phones and didn't notice the tall doctor sidle up behind them. Unfortunately, however, their little boy had been observing House's antics for the past few minutes and was utterly delighted that he had come within talking distance. The boy raised a chubby finger: "you're a goof, mister!"
"Takes one to know one, loser. Now button it. Mister is on important business".
The disturbance had caused the mother to turn around. "Are you the doctor we requested to look at little Henry?", she asked uncertainly in the broadest Texan accent he had ever heard. House could almost see the wheels turning as she attempted to decide if the scruffy man before her was a doctor, a patient, or a homeless person.
"No, sorry", he replied. "I'm here for medical attention myself. But I heard from the pharmacist over there that if we stand in this spot and remain perfectly quiet the doctor will see us imminently". The woman half laughed, unsure if he was joking. In the face of his impassive expression, though, she turned to her husband for support, who merely shrugged and went back to his phone. House put his finger to his lips and was immediately copied by the beaming boy. "This guy's smart", he said, nodding at the child, "he'll go far. Now shush".
Wilson and the nurse were much nearer, but still he strained to catch their conversation. The former had obviously just told a joke and the latter threw her head back and laughed heartily. Ugh, Wilson was not that funny. It was no use. Direct contact was necessary. House broke cover and ambled towards the pair.
"...and then he said: 'what, are you a doctor or something?!'".
The woman laughed again. "Oh, James, that's a good one. You sure know how to tickle a girl pink".
"Well", Wilson began, "maybe after work one of these days we can go for a glass-".
"-James? Is that you there, old pal? Wow, I've not seen you since...God, I don't even know when", House interrupted, drawing level with his targets.
Wilson, who had been taken completely by surprise, glared at his friend. "I saw you at lunchtime, House. I bought you a reuben and you used pickles to contaminate my Pepsi. Remember?".
"Really? That doesn't sound like me". House turned to the blonde woman, still addressing his friend: "why don't you introduce me to your companion here?".
"Mathilde, House; House, Mathilde", Wilson spoke through gritted teeth as the two named shook hands.
"Mathilde? What an unusual name!", House grinned. Wilson, meanwhile, grimaced like he was in pain.
"I suppose it is", replied the woman, returning his smile. "My parents are Swedish".
"Oh, how nice. I hope you're not planning to introduce them to Wilson anytime soon...?".
Mathilde gave him a slightly confused look as Wilson leapt to the rescue. "No, no, nothing like that. I've just been helping nurse Eriksson settle in to life at Princeton. You of all people, House, know how hard change can be".
"Yes, of course". House threw his friend an arch look, before continuing: "y'know, Mathilde, you're very lucky".
"How so?".
"Well, Wilson is famous around these parts for the hospitality he extends to newcomers. Some say he has a gift. Either way, he fits in them quite nicely".
Mathilde's smile faltered as she tried to decide if she had misheard.
"Sorry, I meant to say he ensures they all fit in nicely. Long day!". Unbeknown to the woman, Wilson jabbed his pen at House's leg, who stifled a grunt and soldiered on regardless: "yes, Wilson has lots of time for women such as yourself. As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, they're all women aren't they, James?".
"No, I don't think they are actually, Greg. Aren't you down to see Cuddy now?". Wilson chuckled nervously at Eriksson, who was beginning to feel like she had ended up in the middle of something.
House was undeterred. "No, no, I'm convinced that they're all females. Although, do you remember that one you thought was a lady but actually ended up...not to be?".
"Nope, I think you must be misremembering. All that Vicodin fogs his brain, you see", explained Wilson to Mathilde, who had begun to back away slowly.
"Now that you've got me on the topic, was that after or before you tried to convince those three women to chain you to the bed, slather you with ice cream, and whip you with riding crops?", mused House, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"That is not-".
"-wow, is that the time?", interjected Mathilde. "I really ought to be getting back to my station. Nice talking to you both. Nice to meet you, Dr. House".
"Talk again tomorrow?", asked Wilson hopefully.
"Err, I'll think about it. Bye". The nurse rushed off towards the big doors which led to the bowels of the hospital.
The doctors stood side by side, admiring her butt as she half-walked half-jogged away from them.
A couple of moments passed in silence.
"You gonna give me the fifty now or...?", asked House conversationally. "I mean, we can double it up if you think you can salvage the situation by month end, but I'm not holding out much hope for you".
Wilson sighed but reached for his wallet and peeled off the bills. "I don't appreciate that act of sabotage, House. You've undone several weeks of serious spadework. I genuinely think I was in with a shot there".
House offered his friend a consolatory clap on the shoulder. "Believe it or not, Wilson, I'm inclined to agree with you for once. Tell you what: how about I make it up to you? Pizza and beer at my place? I've got some news on the female front myself. From the other day".
Wilson glanced sharply at the taller man. "Cameron? What's happened? What have you done?".
"Relax, relax. It's good news. I think. Hard to say for sure. This is why I could use your input since you're, like, so great with women".
"Oh, you. You always know what to say to a guy, don't you?", grunted Wilson good-naturedly. "Fine. But I am drinking all your beer after that little stunt you pulled with Nurse Whatserface."
"It's a date".
Both men walked towards the elevators, intending to pick up their things before leaving.
"She was a complete babe, though", said House.
"She really was", agreed Wilson immediately, pressing the button.
Suddenly there was the sound of a throat clearing behind them. "Who was a complete babe?".
"Satan?", exclaimed House as he turned around. "Oh, it's just you, Dr. Cuddy. What a disappointment". Cuddy arched an eyebrow. "Though if you carry on looking at me like that", House continued, "I'd have to say that you are the babe".
"House and I were just discussing the, ah, biological and medical qualities of nurse Eriksson in paediatrics. Turns out her parents are Swedish, did you know that?", offered Wilson.
"Uhuh. Big fan of Sweden are we, Wilson? I'm sure that's the only reason you were talking to her. Couldn't have anything to do with the long blonde hair, blue eyes, and gravity-defying rack", said Cuddy.
"You should listen to her, bud. She knows a thing or two about racks. The torture kind and the boob kind". The elevator doors opened, and House walked in.
Wilson, however, remained where he was, struck by a sudden idea which had been prompted by Cuddy's insight into his true reason for talking to Mathilde. Well, he thought, it was scarcely an insight—anyone with eyes could have made the same observation. All the same, if House intended to divulge Cameron-related developments it might be useful to have a female perspective. Wilson was hardly an expert on matters of the heart; his three divorces testified to that. If nothing else, Cuddy could help share the load of advising their unusual friend.
"You coming? Don't make me drag you in here by the hair", said House from inside the elevator.
"Hey, Cuddy, we were going to grab our things then head to House's for some pizza and beer. Would you fancy that?".
"Say what now? No way, man. Girls just ruin everything".
Cuddy looked at House then back to Wilson. She was about to decline but noticed something in the latter's eyes that she hadn't seen before: it seemed almost like he was pleading. Her interest was well and truly piqued. "Actually, that doesn't sound half bad. I've been meaning to finish a bit earlier since my triumph with the Board last month. Did I tell you about that?", she asked. Wilson shook his head.
House made a face. "Fine, you can come. Just, whatever you do, don't ruin the guy vibe, sister".
Ten minutes later, the Dean of PPTH left the hospital flanked by her Heads of Oncology and Diagnostics. Pizza, beer, and Cameron conversation awaited them.
