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Baking Wishes and Blueberry Dreams
by JessC
Title: "Baking Wishes and Blueberry Dreams"
Author: JessC
Rated: PG-14 (as the show itself is)
Disclaimer: Everything up till "Kids". I do not own the characters (though I wish I DID...if they're ever on sale, we'll talk). All credit for characters are to FOX and the show's genius creators and writing team. I'm merely borrowing them to bend and mold to my will. Plus, I hate abusing Chase, but House made me do it!
Summary: ((Based off a random "House" poll and subsequent livejournal chat about it)) Turns out, one of House's hidden hobbies is baking. To celebrate Vogler's exit, he's made some blueberry muffins and hands them out to those closest to him (well...*almost* everyone ). Slightly House/Cam to shippers, but didn't intend it that way (so a warning to anti-House/Cam people)
Feedback: Can I make it required? ::wink:: Feel free to drop a line of any type to yippeeskippy2002@yahoo.com, or else comment here.
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House strides in through the clinic with his fixed expression as he does daily. He struggles with whether looking around at all the "sick" congregation, wonder who the hell they are, what they want now, and scrutinize their every move or else to keep tunnel vision so he doesn't make eye contact and have to stop and help.
"Exactly why I don't wear a lab coat." House thinks to himself, "I can be incognito, under the radar, undetected. If Vogler can't make me wear it--unless it was to have ruffled his thick feathers--then no one can." House smiles to himself victoriously, "I won that fight. Won a $100 million bet." House tugs on the small, red duffel bag he's carrying, "All the more reason to get my money's worth celebrating."
"Dr. House." Cuddy comes up to him, in her usual professional demeanor.
"Dr. Cuddy." House returns, then spots her plunging blouse, "You're looking especially female today."
Cuddy, not amused, "You're late."
"But I have a good reason." House states.
"Oh, really?" Cuddy crosses her arms, looking straight at him, "What?"
House puts the duffel bag on the recptionist desk, opens tupperware, and plucks out a fresh muffin, holding it out to her. Cuddy just stares, shifting her disbelieving glance between House and the muffin, the muffin and House.
House lowers the muffin, grimacing, "Don't tell me you're on a diet. You don't need to--it goes to all the right spots. The least you can do is cut it in half and use it to prop up your blouse."
Cuddy drops her jaw, "This nearly constitutes as sexual harassment."
"In that case, you would have reported me the day we met." House puts the muffin in her hand, "Just eat the damn muffin and be happy." House takes his bag and walks off, leaving Cuddy, her jaw still slack, staring after him, muffin in hand.
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House strides into his conference area, having spotted Foreman in there, waiting, "Nothin' says lovin' like fresh-baked-goods-that-resemble-moldy-bread from the oven."
Foreman turns, "What?"
House holds out a muffin.
Foreman waves his hand lightly, "In that case, it probably won't agree with me."
"No--it is you that doesn't agree with me. Enjoy your yummy penicillin muffin."
Chase enters, seeing House giving Foreman a muffin, "Ooh...smells good."
"Thank you," House snarks, "Figured I'd try a new cologne today."
"Got anymore there?" Chase peeks around like a precocious 5 year-old child.
"Cologne? Sorry, left it at home."
"No--muffins."
House rifles through his duffel bag, "Chase muffins...Chase muffins...Now where did I put those darn Chase muffins?" House looks up, straight at Chase, "Oh--that's right--I don't have any."
Chase looks at him with his wide, blue eyes morphing into a harder gaze, but knowing very well why House is withholding. He's angry with himself over what's he's done to House--and at the cost of a delicious muffin.
House heads past Chase, "Got to make more deliveries." He exits as he starts whistling 'Do You Know the Muffin Man' just to mess with Chase's head.
Chase stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks at Foreman looking back at him. A few seconds into the staring contest, Foreman picks a piece off the muffin--not breaking his stare--and plops it in his mouth. He closes his eyes and chews in exaggerated pleasure. "Mmmmmmm...soooo gooooooood...and it's allllllllll miiiiiiiiiiine."
Chase huffs to himself, "Dammit." Then quickly bursts back out of the office.
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House catches up to Wilson in the hallway. Remembering their exchange in Wilson's office yesterday--regardless of their champagne celebration later that night--House feels he needs to give his peace offering.
"Here." House holds a muffin in front of Wilson as they continue walking down the hall.
"What the hell is that?" Wilson asks.
"Figure this could be a way to kiss and make up--of course, replacing the "kiss" with "eat blueberry muffins"."
Wilson smiles through the corner of his mouth as he accepts the muffin, studying it, "This doesn't look store bought."
"That's because I made it."
Wilson cocks a brow, "You made it? Seriously?"
"It's an occasional hobby. Recipes are exact scientific items."
"Ah--your infamous control complex. So, you're just going around like Little Red Riding Hood and handing out these?"
"Especially, now, with the Big Bad Wolf gone."
Wilson snorts at the comparison.
"Well, I couldn't very well eat them all by myself. Got to maintain my girlish figure."
Wilson analyzes, "The standard yeild in muffin recipes are 12--who else are you giving them to?"
"So far only myself, Cuddy, Foreman, and Kevin."
"You haven't given any to Chase? Playing favorites?"
"I have my reason and I don't play favorites--I play against those who don't favor me."
Wilson nods forelornly and takes a piece off the muffin's bottom to try it, "My God, House, this is good!"
"I know--I've had two--plus I licked the bowl and spatula."
Wilson smirks, "Two?"
"Had to test that the second one would be worth eating."
"You're going to be crashing within the hour." He takes another piece, then thinks, "Wait--Kevin? From bookeeping? His name is Carl. How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"As many times as I say 'Kevin'--his secret-friendship name."
"And what would be my secret-friendship name?"
"Watson."
"Interesting choice."
"You're the Watson to my Holmes--you've got to admit it's a fitting differential diagnosis."
"Of course, you'd make me the sidekick."
"But a necessary one."
"You do know why they're called sidekicks, right?"
"That's what makes it so fun. Makes the cane come in handy. You're a sidewhack."
"Then that makes you just whack." Wilson grins devilishly.
House glares at him for a moment before threatening, "You still want that muffin?"
Wilson turns slightly away, shielding his muffin, "Hell, yeah." He shoves the muffin in his mouth and takes a huge bite. Wilson looks straight back at him, smiling as best he could with a mouth full of muffin, "Mmm!" Just to mock him. He'd stick his tongue out with his mouth full, but it wouldn't be appropriate as a doctor in a hospital.
House rolls his eyes and walks off.
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"Shut up!" An irritating 8 year-old boy screams at his harried mom.
Mom, naturally, gets cross, "Timmy--"
"Don't call me 'Timmy'!"
"Don't tell Mommy to shut up. Just let the nice doctor help you."
House scoffs quietly at that remark.
"Leave me aloooooooooone!!!" Timmy screeches.
House sighs, "Is your child allergic to blueberries?"
"No...?"
"Gluten? Or any baked goods?"
"No--why?"
House reaches into his red duffel bag and takes out a still-fresh muffin, "Here--take a muffin." He shoves it in the kid's hand, the mother's jaw dropping open, "Stuff your big mouth with that." He looks at the mom, "He's fine. Go home." He looks back at Timmy, "Eat your muffin and give your Mommy a break for once." House gets up and exits, "Have a nice day."
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Now, with the day over, all the muffins have been given away--two for House, one for Cuddy, one for Foreman, one for 'Kevin', one for Wilson (well, he came back for another, so two), one for that bratty kid Timmy, then to a patient with hemmoroids, then a hypoglycemic, and then a hypochondriac who House easily conned into believing that his muffins were the cure for whatever the hell the patient thought he had (which was total body cancer).
However, there's one left. House thinks of who he should give it to. After a moment's pause, a thought pops in his head. This person does still deserve it regardless of their current status of House's opinion. House gathers his coat and duffel bag. He turns off his lights and sets off.
On the way out, Chase, sans lab coat, struts by. "Leaving, House?"
House comes to a slow stop next to him, "Yeah, have one last, blasted muffin to get rid of."
"Who are you going to give it to?" Half-expecting it to be him, but half-expecting it not to. Actually, more like 75% expecting it not to...well, more like 95%.
"A teamplayer. Not a switch hitter."
Chase lowers his head regretfully, not over the muffin, but seeing the error of his ways. "I'm sorry, House. I like my job--actually, I love it. I wanted to protect it and ensure my survival. Unfortunately, Vogler only gave me that disgusting option, so I stupidly and immaturely took it. I'm sorry."
House studies Chase's sincerity, "Apology accepted." House pauses, "But it'll take time to regain trust."
Chase nods meekly, "I understand."
"Once it's back, you can have all the muffins you desire."
"Thank you." Meaning more about the trust and peace gesture than just the damn muffins. He didn't care about the muffins, he cared about what they stood for.
House stays for another moment, both men standing in silence. Chase darts his glances around House and House watches him do that, trying to get in his head as always. Then House sets off, neither men exchanging any further words. There was no need to.
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House cruises down a long stretch of road in his still-shiny red 'stang, groaning each time the light would go red.
"C'mon! This baby was meant for motion!"
House huffs as he waits a full minute for the light to change. When it finally does, House immediately presses the gas and the tires squeal.
"Thank you!"
Two minutes later, he turns into an apartment building, slows his car, crouches over the steering wheel, and scans the lot for an empty space. House groans, not having found one in the first row. He rounds the bend and starts on the second. He spots one and turns straight in it. He turns off the ignition and eases out of the car, plucking up his trusty duffel bag as he starts heading for the entrance.
House enters and finds the elevator, pressing the 'up' button. He sighs and drops his head as he waits for the elevator to arrive. Once the elevator dings and opens, House enters and presses the number '3', then the 'close' button. House shifts his mouth in thought as he waits for the elevator to reach the third floor.
Once the door opens, he sets out, determined. Five steps later, his stride slows and his face relaxes. By step nine, he stops dead-cold mid-hallway, hanging his head in contemplative, almost 'what-the-hell-are-you-doing?' thought.
House inhales sharply and tilts his head to the ceiling, "It's just a damn muffin!" House quietly scolds himself as he glomps down the hallway.
Finally, he reaches apartment 325, pauses for a second, then tightens his mouth, and knocks on the door...and keeps knocking...and knocking. Like an 8 year-old boy. Like Timmy.
The door opens slightly, revealing a familiar face: Cameron. She looks confused.
"House?" She asks, uncertain, as she peers around the crack in the door.
"Cameron." House greets simply and unemotionally.
"Is there something you need?"
House blinks once, "No. Not really."
"Then what's the occasion for this visit?" She asks politely, but controlling her 'stuffed-teddy-bear-made-by-Grandma' persona.
"Just joyriding around town."
"I'm out of your way." Cameron points out.
"You know me--any excuse is a good excuse to burn gas while taking Priscilla for a spin."
Cameron raises a brow, "Priscilla?"
"The 'stang."
Cameron nods lightly, still confused, "Okay..."
House rifles through his duffel bag, "Oh...yeah." He offers her the last of the muffins, "I had one left and didn't know how to best get rid of it."
Cameron accepts the muffin in disbelief, "The garbage?"
"And have all my hard work go to waste? Never."
"You made this?"
"And eleven of its brothers and sisters--all put out of their delicious misery." House points to the muffin, "That muffin is an orphan--the last of it's kind. It wants to be euthanized and you want to eat it--it's a win-win situation."
Cameron softly laughs as she rolls her eyes at House's off-color remark. Then, she sighs it away and looks back up at him, "But why are you giving this to me? I no longer work for you."
"You deserve it after all the hard work you have done."
House looks straight at her, telling the truth. Cameron looks straight back, knowing it is the truth.
House continues, "Plus, with Vogler gone, I'm now free to hand out all the baked goods I want and to whomever I want."
Cameron's eyes pop, "Vogler's gone?"
"Yep. Got the ceremonial boot yesterday. You're free to come back. I'll take you taking a huge bite as re-accepting your job."
Cameron and House have a staring contest, both wondering what she'll do. Ultimately, she brings the muffin to her mouth and takes a huge chunk from the side.
"Glad to have you back." House says, "See you tomorrow morning." He turns to leave.
"Wait."
House stops and turns back.
"You bake?" Finding the hobby odd in House.
"Well, next time I plan on baking cane-shaped cookies spread with ground-Viciodin icing. That oughta make Cuddy relax for once."
Cameron smiles, amused.
"See you bright and early." House leaves.
Cameron, still shocked at the visit, slowly eases as the sugar breaks her bloodstream. She yanks a piece off the top and lightly tosses it in her mouth as she closes the door.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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