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You Could Meet Him On the Bus: Books and Jesus
by Taima Hiroshima
House had been riding the bus for a month now. It started out because his car was in the shop, and James couldn't come pick him up. But now he rode it simply because it was more fun than a freak show.
There were the crazy people sitting there mumbling to themselves, there were the people running late for work and doing all matters of personal hygiene rituals. Once he swore he'd seen a woman shaving her armpits, but before he could tell for sure, he had had to get off the bus.
So he'd kept riding the bus, thinking it was more entertaining to watch these people argue over seats than it was to watch General Hospital. It was like a soap opera all its own.
One morning, the bus was running just a little behind schedule. House sat in the handicapped seat directly behind the driver. He told himself he didn't sit there because it was for cripples, but because it offered the best view of the whole vehicle.
The girl they always picked up was waiting at her stop. She seemed to be running late, as she was chewing on a doughnut and trying to comb her hair at the same time. She put her coins in the slot.
Sure enough, the only seat open was next to House. He groaned as he moved his bag over to let her sit down. She didn't even look his way as she finished her sugary breakfast pastry and combed her hair.
She looked at House warily out of the corner of her eye. It was all Greg could do not to lean over and say; "Hello Clarice. What are you wearing?"
He didn't blame her for being cautious. All sorts of freaks rode the bus, and most of them would just love to cop a feel from a young girl.
She wore a denim jacket and blue jeans with a black t-shirt. Her hair was shoulder length and dark brown. She reached into her school bag and pulled out a paper back novel. To House's surprise, it wasn't a Harlequin romance or a Nancy Drew. She was reading Oliver Twist.
"Is that for school?"
"Jesus Christ!" she swore as she put her hand to her chest. She glared at him. He nodded to the book in her hands.
"No, just a doctor. But everyone confuses us. Do you have to read that?"
"No," she said shortly as she turned back to the book. But she seemed to relax a little and did sit just on the extreme edge of the seat. When they stopped at the hospital, she stood up to let Greg off.
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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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