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Carpenter
by Jackyblu
Life is full of irony, probably one of the better things about it. Recovering from surgery and learning to use a cane is not as easy as some people make it look. Different muscle groups working in different ways. Ow! Writing this series has proved a valuable distraction. Anyway, thanks again to Firesideguy for the beta and suggestions for the alliteration sections. We laughed our bums off. Please enjoy this third installment of 'A Damn Good Day'. Comments are always welcome.
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With nothing to do, House's staff was seated around the conference table as he and Wilson entered. Foreman was reading the latest AMA journal, and Chase was working on a new puzzle book. Cameron was sitting in stony silence, her arms crossed defiantly in front of her. She looked as if she were attempting to stare a hole through the woman behind the desk across the room, who was gracefully taking no notice of her. The mug of coffee in front of her remained untouched. Every now and then Foreman shot the coffee a covetous look. He reached for her mug, deciding that the contents were worth risking a limb for.
"Don't even think about it," Cameron hissed. She shot him a look of pure loathing.
"Your not drinking it," Foreman said. "It's ice cold."
Chase looked up. "If your not going to drink it Cameron, at least let Foreman and I split it."
"Hey, your not risking anything here, Mate!" Foreman countered. He kept one wary eye on Cameron, in case she was as murderous as she looked.
Chase sniffed. "Just remember this when you need me to watch your back, Dawg!"
"Fine," Cameron spat. She shot the woman behind the desk a withering look, which was ignored. So in frustration she flashed the death beam on House and Wilson.
As diverting as all this was, House had business to attend to that did not require an audience. Time for the ducklings to fly. Leaning on his cane he raised his left wrist up and made an exaggerated face at his watch. "You know it's 10:56 a.m., and none of you seem to be doing anything constructive with your day. Remind me again why I hired you?"
Foreman was now standing next to the microwave waiting for Cameron's mug to reheat. "You have a case for us?" The microwave dinged, and he removed the mug.
"No," House replied. "But it's a big hospital. Go out and find me something." They stared at him. Ducks caught in the headlights. "Now!" He thumped his cane against the floor for emphasis.
Chase sat his puzzle book aside with a heavy sigh and got up from the table. He was the senior member of the team and knew his boss' temperament best. When cane thumping was involved, House was serious. "Let's go," he said to the other two.
Foreman was disgusted. They had waited out here all morning while House had sat on his ass drinking coffee and talking to Wilson, and now he wanted them to go find him a case. Could the man be a bigger jerk? He started to leave the mug behind, but snatched it up when he saw that House had darted a look at it. 'Oh, no you don't old man.' Eyes locked on House, Foreman took a mouthful from the mug and with a virtuous smile, spat half of it back inside. Territory marked he placed it back on the table, and left the room looking satisfied.
Cameron rose from the table and followed Chase to the door. She looked back over her shoulder and gave House a glare that should have burned the flesh from his bones. She was starting to open her mouth, when Chase took hold of her lab coat and pulled her out the door.
House watched them go. He had just had his decision confirmed. Obviously, he couldn't keep the assistant if it was going to cause Cameron that much resentment. Well, actually he didn't give a damn if it bothered her. At least he could tell Cuddy that he had to 'let her go' to restore harmony within his team. And he wouldn't be lying. He turned and faced the source of Cameron's displeasure. Jeez she was cute! God, there was that word again! Steady House. Put on your worst possible bedside manner. Since he was standing over her, he thought that the most appropriate thing to do would be to stare down her cleavage. A little sexual harassment, some sarcasm, and a bit of insanity should do the trick. She'll be gone before lunch, he thought.
The woman behind the desk lifted her head and nearly stopped breathing as her eyes met his. My Holy God they're blue! And I am gawping at him like a fish. Close your mouth stupid! She swallowed and then gave him an appraising look over. He's tall and thin but not too thin, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. His dark blue jacket worn over a sky blue tee shirt highlighted those amazing eyes. The jeans he wore were relaxed, but boy did they fit. Oh girl, try not to drool all over yourself. Embarrassed she refocused on his face. She liked his angular jaw, sharp cheekbones and a nose that looked as if it had been broken more than once in his life. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days, but she liked that look. His brown hair, sprinkled with gray, was probably never more than washed and towel dried. No fussy styling. Very macho! But his eyes drew her in. The lines around them spoke of pain experienced and life lessons learned. She sensed that he was interested in things that others missed. Looking at his eyes would have made her heart hurt, except that right now he was showing a great deal of interest in her breasts. In fact he was ogling them intently from various angles. The son-of-a-bitch thinks he's going to harass me into quitting! She thought to herself with a laugh, "Sorry pal, but I don't wear tops like these to hide my assets. Christ, I don't think he's blinked once. Got to admire that kind of concentration. The top of her desk came inches below the top of House's thighs. That offered an interesting view. She crossed her arms over her chest, and then spoke directly to his crotch. "It's must be the adult hour. I take it you sent the kids to the movies so we can talk without warping them for life." She leered appreciatively at his denim-clad groin. Okay doctor let's play!
House flicked his eyes to hers and realized where she was staring. He shifted his weight self-consciously. Nice opening serve. Fifteen - love to the new gal.
Wilson turned a chuckle into a cough.
House placed his cane directly in front of him and leaned on it with both hands, blocking her view of his worldly goods. He raised his right eyebrow and smirked at her. Fifteen - all. Your serve missy.
She uncrossed her arms, and reached forward to brush the fingertips of her right hand lightly over the cane. "Nice wood. Mahogany? I hear it's the hardest." The look she gave him should have been illegal. Thirty - fifteen. Your serve doctor.
This produced another cough from Wilson. "Need some water," he croaked before hurrying across the room to the sink.
House gestured at her cleavage with his right index finger and smirked. "Ever lose anything down there? Earrings? Car keys? Electrical appliances? I'd be willing to lead a search party." Return that one sweetie. Thirty - all.
Doing her best Betty Boop impersonation she pouted, "Is buffing your cane part of this job or do you take care of that all by yourself?" Perfect backhand. Forty - thirty.
No longer able to hold back, Wilson was laughing out loud which distracted House from his game. Advantage to the woman with bodacious boobs. House pictured her in a short tight tennis outfit. Now he was really distracted and that allowed her to serve the ace.
"It's long, but it looks awfully thin. Is staying erect a problem for you?" Game, set, and match.
Wilson was leaning weakly against the sink hiccupping and wiping his eyes. "Oh my God. Cane buffing!"
House fired a look of pure disgust at him. He had just been trounced in a game where he had always been the top seed. "Don't you have some bald-headed youngsters to read too?" he snapped while rubbing his left temple. If not for this headache he might have won. Maybe.
The victor of the PPTH verbal volley trophy looked up at him and smiled sweetly. "So Dr. House, was there something you wanted to discuss with me?"
"I don't need an assistant!" he blurted. There, I said it. A bit nasty, also a bit more defensive than I had intended. He mentally winced .
She wasn't giving up. "That's not the impression that Dr. Cuddy gave me. She said you needed help badly."
"She was referring to mental help," Wilson stated as he walked back toward them having suppressed the giggles.
"She was not, and shut up!" House snarled. Wilson gave her a see-what-I mean look.
"So you do need help on files and such."
"Nope, got it covered. Cameron takes care of that for me." House was beginning to feel wrong-footed again. Did he really just insist that he needed Cameron? This was going from bad to worse.
"Dr. Cuddy mentioned that Doctor Cameron was a little over-qualified to be answering your mail and working on your files and billings."
"She likes doing things for me. It makes her feel needed." He flicked his eyes to Wilson. Oh, what the hell made me say that?
Wilson placed both hands on his hips and looked at House."Yeah, that's why she worked her little ass off to get that medical degree. So she could feel needed by you," He turned to the assistant. "He does need your help."
House stared at him in disbelief. Et tu, Wilson? This was ridiculous. He never had a problem driving people away. "Look, I'm sorry for your inconvenience. If you sashay your cute little keester down to payroll, they'll cut you a check for two weeks of not working for me. Good luck and good bye!" That was a little brutal. God she may start crying about how her kids will have to eat cold cereal for breakfast and dinner, but at least they'll get the free hot lunches at school. Great! I'm making myself feel guilty. Et tu, House? She had an odd expression on her face for someone who had just been handed her pink slip. It was as if she knew the punch line to a joke he hadn't heard. He glanced at Wilson expecting him to still be standing with both hands firmly glued on his hips, shaking his head in disagreement. But, he wasn't. In fact he was standing with his arms crossed and wearing the same odd smile that she was. What's the joke here?
"Thank you Dr. House, but today's pay is enough. I don't take what I haven't earned."
She gathered her things together on the desk and was still smiling when she placed her right hand on top and pushed up to her feet. "By the way. I haven't sashayed in about three years." She reached around behind her and picked up her cane. She held it in her left hand and leaned on it. The smirk on her face was eloquent.
The seas froze, the sun turned black, cats barked and dogs meowed and all of it occurred because Greg House was speechless.
Punch line, to the gut.
Wilson grinned and gestured toward the lady behind the desk with an elegant wave of his hand. "Dr. Gregory House, may I introduce Ms Jennifer Carpenter?" Told you to talk to her.
She offered him her hand. "Pleased to meet you Dr. House. Dr. Cuddy is a real ball buster isn't she?"
House's brain re-booted and he set his cane against the desk so that he could shake her warm hand. He nodded in agreement, a thin-lipped smile on his face. "Pleasure to meet you Ms Carpenter, and yes, she is."
Jennifer shook her head in admiration." Shows a wonderful sense of humor and splendid use of irony. Hire a cripple to work for a cripple."
"Explains why you were so interested in my cane." He held it in both hands and admired it. "It is big, and always keeps me erect," he said with a self-satisfied smile. He placed it back in his right hand. "By the way, I receive offers to buff it all the time."
"Sure, and then you pull out your wallet and negotiate a price," Wilson added waspishly.
"Hey!" House spoke in a stage whisper out of the corner of his mouth. "Not in front of the lady. I'm trying to make an impression here." He indicated her with his eyes.
She smiled at him. "Don't worry, you have." They locked eyes and a lifetime passed.
Wilson, who had been watching this exchange, realized another irony. Maybe Cuddy was hoping that a Carpenter could fix a House. Or tear one down. Stop it James! Every woman he meets is not going to hurt him. She is not Stacy. And I am not the 'House' police. Oh, the hell I'm not. I've been wearing the badge for years. Time to leave it in the wallet. God, what is wrong with me? They just met! There was no way Greg could make a leap of faith that big. Not anymore.
Greg House was now completely off-balance. Emotion and reason were having a brawl inside him and he didn't know which one to root for. She was cute, witty, and had attitude a-plenty, and he no longer felt any desire for her to leave. What he did feel he hoped he was covering. He dropped his gaze and drew a breath, steadied himself emotionally and shifted his weight off his right leg using the cane for the support he needed. "Would you care to join Dr. Wilson and I for a cup of coffee in the cafeteria?" he asked trying to sound casual, as if he didn't care if she accepted or not. Please.
"Are you buying, boss?" She asked. Keep me.
"Yes." Say yes.
"Then I'd love to." Yes!
Wait! Wilson did a double take at House. "Wait, you're buying?"
"Hers. Of course you are buying mine."
"Oh good. For a moment the earth tilted on its axis."
"Everything in balance Jimmy." He grinned and gestured toward the door. "Care to follow my limp Ms Carpenter?"
"Gimp away Dr. House." She followed him to the door. They both stopped and looked pointedly at Wilson who realized that they were waiting on him to do something.
"No, no please! I insist that you let me get that unyielding door." He pushed the door open with an exaggerated bow, while they limped through.
"People used to have more respect for the handicapped you know," she hissed in Wilson's ear as she passed.
"I say that!" House cried delightedly. "Only not so PC." As he passed he rapped Wilson's forehead with his cane. Thump.
"Ow! House!"
"Oops. Sorry. It slipped."
They hobbled down the hall toward the elevator side by side. Carpenter on House's left so that their canes wouldn't obstruct each other. Wilson followed behind rubbing his forehead and trying to follow their conversation.
She continued her thought. "You always say cripples?"
"Sure. Better bite to it."
"I like to go back and forth depending on the situation," she explained.
He leered at her. "I'll bet you do. I'll bet you do. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. Say no more!"
He winked playfully at her. Why am I suddenly so damn cheerful?
She leaned her head toward him and asked in a conspiratorial voice. "Have you ever told anyone that you're not limping? That you're actually with the Ministry of Silly Walks." She snickered.
And she's a Python fan. Nice!
House smiled. They stopped outside the elevator and House stabbed the button with the tip of his cane.
Wilson glanced at House. His friend actually looked happy. James wanted to freeze-frame this moment in his memory. But, moments are fleeting.
"Excuse me," a brassy blonde with dark roots and way too much makeup interupted as she teetered toward them on three inch platform shoes. Her skirt was too tight and her top was too short. Her love handles jiggled as she approached. Her belly button was pierced as was her overly penciled eyebrows. She ignored the young man dressed as a doctor, and asked the two people with canes. "Do either of you know where physical therapy is located?"
James cringed and closed his eyes. Oh shit. Does this building have a fallout shelter?
Two pairs of eyes turned to drill through her. One pair was the deepest blue and the other darkest brown. "Ladies first," House whispered to Carpenter chivalrously.
She fixed the woman with a sarcastic look. "If I were wondering where Physical Therapy was, I would read the sign on the wall over there. But of course I haven't been applying camouflaging cosmetics consisting of copious quantities of carcinogen causing chemicals to my cranium to craft colors not created by nature!" She lowered her voice as if sharing a confidence with the woman. " That courtier crap causes cancer you know." She nodded her head for emphasis.
The "blonde" looked stunned.
House gave her a pitying look. "Ah, sorry, did my friend use too many big words? Let me translate. Stop attempting to attain an alteration of appearance by applying ample amounts of artificial accoutrement like an aging actress or all you'll achieve is access to oncology!" He made a scary face at her, eyes wild. "Now GO AWAY!"
The "blonde" fled in terror. "Wash that crap off your face!" House shouted after her. "And lose thirty pounds!"
They could see the woman dashing into the ladies room part way down the hall. Wilson sighed in annoyance and placed his hand on the back of his neck. "Well done both of you. You do realize that she'll show up in my office in the next few days thinking she's terminal." Wilson shuddered. If she does I'm not giving the physical. Eew.
The elevator door opened and the three of them entered a mercifully empty car.
House rolled his eyes. "Oh relax Jimmy! You'll run some tests. Charge her insurance company. The hospital will get paid. Then you'll be able to give her the happy news that she's fine. She'll love you. Her family will love you. And she will never leave her home looking like a skank ho again. Win - win for everyone."
"Right!" Carpenter agreed. "We have done her a great service."
"You both scared the crap out of her!"
House continued looking down the hall with a satisfied smirk. "Well Jimmy you know what they say, "Anyone worth doing..."
"...Is worth doing twice?" Carpenter finished for him smirking too.
House nodded at her and put up his left hand. She met it with her right. Clap. The elevator door slid closed.
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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 NBC/Universal, 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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