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TV Doctors
by Nuala
Wilson settled himself next to House on the examining table. "So what's on? Is this General Hospital?"
House was already staring intently at the glowing screen of his portable television. "You wound me, Dr. Wilson. Would I waste my mind on dreck like that?"
Wilson snorted. "Yes. Every weekday, in fact."
"Please. Does this look like General Hospital?"
"Doctors; patient; MRI machine," Wilson said, gesturing at the screen. "If it's not General Hospital, what is it?"
"Something new," House replied, masticating a handful of candies with audible enjoyment. "It's set at a teaching hospital. These doctors figure out a different baffling case each week."
"Oh? Sounds like it should be right up your alley."
House snorted. "It's complete bullshit. Each episode, they try out three wrong diagnoses, then miraculously hit on the right one just as the patient's about to kick it. And the astounding diagnosis conveniently explains all the symptoms and is always immediately treatable. And the treatment works like a charm every time. I wish all my cases were like that."
Wilson looked slightly askance at House, but wisely decided to keep his peace.
"Plus the head doctor's a total asshole."
Wilson grinned. "Well, I hate to say 'takes one to know one,' but..."
House bounced a candy off Wilson's forehead. "Oh, bite me. This guy makes me look like a fluffy kitten on Prozac."
Wilson popped the candy into his mouth, making a face at the sourness. "Who'd they cast, Genghis Khan?"
"Some British actor. Whatsisname. Was in that show with that big gay guy..."
"British? He sounds American."
"Faked accent."
"Huh. How about that. I'd have never guessed."
"Hmph. His r's need work."
"Quit being so harsh on the guy. It looks like he's a really good actor."
"Bah." House waved a hand dismissively. "What do you know?"
"Hey, I win the Oscar pool every year, remember? Um, what's with his sunglasses?"
"He's blind in one eye. Retinal detachment. Misdiagnosed. Supposedly what made him into the twisted, bitter misanthropist he is now, though I suspect he was always an asshole."
Wilson cracked a very small smile. "Do you now."
"As if someone that disabled could be an effective doctor," House scoffed. "The show presents him as this omniscient, god-like physician, despite the fact that he's half blind. Give me a break."
"You're as sensitive to the differently-abled as ever. So who are those other doctors?"
"Ah, the ducklings," House said, grinning wickedly. "The poor pathetic saps who work for this jerk. They do the research, they visit the patients, they do all the boring work that the head doctor wouldn't touch. I need to find this guy's dealer and get me some of those."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "As if you need more disciples."
"I say Cuddy owes me at least two more, what with all the clinic hours she's got me working."
Wilson glanced at his watch. "Aren't you supposed to be in the clinic right now?"
"Anyway," House said, popping more candy, "the ducklings follow him around like he's got hundred-dollar bills stuck to his ass. There's the Asian guy, who always agrees with whatever the jerk says. Total ass-kisser. Smart, though, for a tv doctor. I like him. I hope they don't kill off his character."
"Want to keep him around, do you?" Wilson asked.
"He's... interesting. A bit of a jackass. He's like the head doctor in training. Then there's the skinny guy with the glasses. He's the antagonistic one, the one who always takes on the boss. Very entertaining to see him try to argue with this guy who basically owns his soul."
"Really. What about her?"
"The requisite chick doctor. At least she's hot, which is the main reason I watch this crap. But she's kinda whiny. Needy."
"Let me guess: has a crush on the head doctor?"
House grimaced. "I hope not. God, if those two sleep together, I swear I'll start watching Betty Mercury instead."
"Bit of a sore spot?" Wilson asked sympathetically.
"Nooooo," House drawled threateningly. "It's just that women like that, once they get their man, are completely intolerable. They get smug. They obsess about the relationship. Then they get fat and stop wearing makeup. I'd hate to see that happen to such a talented young actress."
"Yes, that'd be a shame."
They watched in silence for a while. The "ducklings" negotiated a difficult treatment for a reluctant patient, while the head doctor locked horns with hospital administration. Wilson was mildly impressed -- the dialogue was snappy and interesting. It was a definite improvement over the shows House usually watched.
Towards the end of the episode -- the patient cured, the "hilarious" wrangling with administrative-types "hilariously" resolved -- the head doctor had a scene with a younger, handsome doctor. "Who's this guy?" Wilson asked, his interest piqued.
"The head doctor's best friend, Dr. Watson," House told him. His voice and posture were uncharacteristically enthusiastic.
"Dr. Watson? Seriously?"
"Elementary, my dear Wilson. Yes, seriously. Head of Oncology, coincidentally enough."
"Huh. Small world."
"Small specialty, actually. And completely out of line. The guy they've cast is way too young. He can't be older than twenty-five."
"Uh..."
"Christ. Tell me you were older than twenty-five when you made Head."
"I was twenty-nine."
House rolled his eyes. "The Boy Wonder of Oncology."
"So what's Watson doing hanging out with the diagnostician?"
"They're Best Friends Forever," House quipped, with audible capitalization. "Watson's the young, attractive, likeable foil to Dr. One-Eye Oldengrump there." House's voice was laced with contempt.
Wilson frowned. "Sounds like you don't like this Dr. Watson."
"Actually, I really like Watson," House said speculatively, his eyes glued to the screen. "He's charming. Quite attractive."
Wilson fought the smile trying to bloom on his face. "Attractive? Why House, I had no idea."
House managed to chew the candy with an air of contemplation. "He's interesting," he mused. "I can't figure out why he'd hang around with such an asshole."
Wilson thought for a moment before answering. "Maybe," he said carefully, "he sees more than just the asshole's gruff exterior. Maybe he likes the asshole's intelligence and passion. Maybe... maybe the asshole is charming too."
"Unlikely." House turned to look at Wilson as the credits began to roll. "An asshole is an asshole. There's usually very little beneath the surface of an asshole except a bunch of shit. And, as you pointed out earlier, it takes one to know one."
Wilson frowned at that, and was going to reply when something on the credits caught his eye. "'Hizzy'? The head doctor's name is 'Hizzy'?"
"Yep. I prefer the more loquacious 'Hizzazzle,' myself, but that's just the kind of guy I am: verbose."
"'Hizzazzle'?" Wilson asked, confused.
"Confused, honky?" House asked, one eyebrow raised. "Go ask Foreman. I'm sure he'll explain the lingo to you."
Wilson shook his head. He probably didn't want to know. "So, you... really like this Watson character?"
"Are you experiencing short-term memory loss? That's a bad sign in a guy your age."
"You called him charming. And attractive."
House didn't reply. This may be because he'd just tipped the remaining content of the candy bag into his mouth. But Wilson knew that very few things House does are accidental, and he arrived at a conclusion very quickly.
"House, do you have a crush on Dr. Watson?" Wilson asked, delighted.
House coughed and sputtered around a throatful of sour candy.
Before he could recover, Wilson went on. "I think you do. That is so... so... adorable."
House managed to glare, despite his ongoing coughing fit.
"Here you were pretending to watch this for the hot chick doctor, but all along you're eyeing the pretty boy sidekick. I -- " Wilson was cut off by the wadded-up candy bag bouncing off his forehead.
"I have clinic hours," House announced primly, shutting off the television and struggling to his feet.
"Oh-ho!" Wilson said, grinning. "I'll bet you do!" He followed House into the hallway. "I'll just go see if Chase and Foreman need any help with those tests they're running on your Hep A patient."
As the elevator doors closed on House, he shot a killing look at Wilson. But he didn't have any retort.
Wilson smiled again. He could still taste the sour-sugar residue on his lips as he walked back to his office. Today, he thought, was shaping up to be a great day. He really would have to start watching "Hizzy" on a regular basis. He suspected that the conversations he'd be having with House about it would be very rewarding.
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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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