*House*
11:12 AM, January 7, 2005"But mommy, I haven't finished my level yet!"
I pouted as Lisa Cuddy peered in the exam room I occupied, a stern frown across her face. "Five more minutes, pwease?"
"Grow the hell up," Cuddy snapped. "There's a woman out here who's been waiting for two hours!"
"Does she know how to catch Pokémon?" I unpaused my game and kept playing.
"That is such a dumb question, I don't even know where to-"
"Shame. No point seeing her then. She could teach me. I can't catch this damn charizard!"
A folder suddenly appeared in my face, my Game Boy clattering onto the ground. I gave my boss a glare that could kill and grabbed my present. The first thing I noticed when I opened it was a note on how the patient had been struggling to breathe.
"Asthma," I tossed the folder back and grabbed my cane. "Give her an inhaler and a lesson on not destroying your lungs by running."
"How-"
"How else you do notice you can't breathe?" I stopped in front of Cuddy. "Well first, you either have to be a smoker or a health fanatic by actually doing physical activity. It's a pretty common way to notice that you're not taking in oxygen."
I slithered past the dragon and made my way towards the cafeteria. Years of experience have taught me to learn when she's angry, her high heel clacking gets louder. Shame my cane doesn't have a second gear or a secret katana in it.
"You can't just leave like this every time you've got clinic duty!" Cuddy managed to block my path. "You have about a million hours to make up and I know that Chase has been covering-"
"Actually, I can leave. Time for my mid-morning meal," I poked her with my cane and kept walking. "Vicodin, idiots and a milkshake - yummy!"
The sound of a folder being slammed against the wall made me grin. She wouldn't be bothering me for a while.
Even though Christmas was over three weeks ago, the lobby and hallways still had tinsel and those stupid sparkly decorations hanging about. Every time I came down from my office I was almost blinded. That would've been interesting; a blind cripple with a cane. Definitely not original though.
I spotted Wilson the second I entered the cafeteria and limped to his table. He sat with a half-eaten sandwich, a pristine lab coat and a foul-smelling drink.
"Where'd you go last night? I was expecting you to join my alcohol stash and I," I said, taking a sip of his beverage. "And what the hell is this..stuff?"
Wilson didn't look up from his newspaper. "Well, sorry to miss your party, but I'm keeping to my resolution."
"Keeping my beloved happy by not hanging out with his best friend?"
"No alcohol. Julie and I are going sober."
I sniggered. "Well, judging by how tired you look, I'm guessing you're lying to me. You two
probably got drunk last night and things got-"
"Oh stop it. I didn't sleep well," Wilson growled, flipping over the page. "Julie's sister just got divorced and she was busy crying, and guess who had to comfort her?"
"So the drink is supposed to be a substitute?" I asked.
"Its a damned ice coffee. Is that a problem, dearest?"
"Not at all. Just never drink it again. This is what they drink where naughty boys and girls go. You don't want a head start, do you?"
Wilson slammed his hand on the table and sighed. "Yes, mom."
"That's my boy!" I smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "Now go tell some patients they're dying."
Rude insults floated in my ears as I strolled away, a piece of his sandwich in my hand. I swirled around. "Now Jimmy, remember there are children and religious people about. Keep yourself nice, dammit."
I pushed past crowds of nurses and teary patient family members, only just making it to the elevator. It was always annoying when I managed to bump into an ex-patient that I once suffered with; the particular man staring at me was one of those. His arm got blown off in Germany while commanding some troops to get the hell out of an ambush.
Being named Captain Darling doesn't suit him. He's almost as obnoxious as I am.
"Ah, Doctor House!" The sneer on his face was obvious before the doors even closed. "And somehow you're still here. You're rude, you snap, you endanger lives; you haven't got a chance if you get fired."
"Thank you Darling," I snarled. "And I hope your mother dies in a freak yachting accident."
The gate to freedom opened and I limped away from the former Captain, his beady eyes giving me a final twitch before he disappeared behind metal once more.
If there was no such thing as jail I'd love to beat the crap out of him with my cane. Not my favourite cane though; I'd buy a steel one instead.
"House!"
I snapped out of my thoughts to find myself already in my office, my slaves staring at me from the conference table. Cameron was making her way over, placing a document on my desk.
"Were you expecting someone else?" I said, flipping open the folder.
Cameron ignored my comment and described what I already read on the paper. "Forty one year old male with difficulty breathing, liver failure, cracked skull, a swollen tongue and skin lesions. He's in the ICU on a ventilator."
"Damn. Now I can't ask how badly his last girlfriend treated him," I limped over to the whiteboard and began writing down the patient's symptoms. "Ideas?"
The other three idiots in my presence looked at each other blankly.
"You didn't read the full report then?" Chase spoke up.
"Of course not. That means I care too much about them," I tapped my marker. "Did I miss reading how he got bitten by a dog at age five and got rabies?"
"He's got..unusual blood," Cameron stuttered. "..When we started testing him for infections we noticed how high his white blood cell count was. Someone as sick as him should have a level that high, but his was off the charts."
"He also has twice the number of normal red blood cells and all sorts of antibodies floating around. He's some kind of Superman." Foreman added.
"Oh wow! Look! You've found a special patient! Congratulations!" I pulled open my bottom desk drawer and used a spare party popper, giving a fake smile. "Never thought I'd get to use that. Get to your point; I think I have some champagne around somewhere.."
"He's not a normal human being," Chase blurted out. "I rechecked the samples three times and he can't have such ridiculous results!"
"What? So you think you've found an alien?" My voice echoed as I searched below the desk. "I better find my phaser then - there might be a Klingon about!"
My team looked awkwardly around, staring at their feet.
I grew impatient. "You can tell me what's wrong, I'm a doctor."
Cameron shifted uncomfortably. "..His blood is pink."
YOU ARE READING
Picard to House
Hayran KurguThough centuries apart these two men are destined to cross paths. When the Enterprise is crippled with a dying patient onboard, Picard resorts to a doctor who died three hundred years before him - Gregory House. Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek:...