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  Livestock 
 by Violet  

 Chase exhaled as he stepped into the conference room, leaning against the
glass wall. Negative on the spinal tap," he said. "It's not meningitis."

Foreman followed close behind, slumping into the chair beside Cameron.
"Rash now, too. Spreading over her abdomen and arms."

House grinned. "Excellent! So what the charming Dr. Chase really means is,
she doesn't have meningitis yet!"

Cameron looked up as she tapped her pencil on the table. "Weil's disease?"

"Well, if her kidneys or liver are the next thing to go, we'll know for
sure, won't we?"

He received only a frown in reply, Cameron's pencil tapping louder and
louder as if she were taking out her frustration on the surface in front
of her. "And in the meantime?"

"In the meantime " House bellowed, getting to his feet and limping towards
the door, "pump her full of penicillin and find out if she's fallen into
any rivers lately."

***

"How's your latest patient?" Wilson asked, stepping into the elevator just
as the doors were about to close on House.

"Alive," came the curt reply as House jutted out his cane to press the
button for the third floor, "and apparently suffering from Leptospirosis."


"Weil's disease?" Wilson's brow crinkled slightly. "Don't you get that
from contaminated freshwater?"

"Water that cows have pissed in? Yup, usually. But our cute little middle
school cheerleader well, less cute now that she has a rather unattractive
rash hasn't been near any rivers or canals lately." 

"So how do you think she got it?"

The doors to the elevator opened and House hobbled out first, followed
closely by Wilson, who glanced briefly at the lit "five" on the row of
buttons. He'd apparently decided that finishing the conversation was more
important than arriving at his original destination.

"Leptospirosis is caused by a spiral bacterium which is harboured in a
number of wild animals, but more commonly, domestic animals such as
cattle, pigs, and horses," House recited, sounding as if he were reading
from a textbook. "The organism enters via skin or lining of the eye,
mouth, or genital area."

"That didn't really answer my question," Wilson pointed out somewhat
irritably, falling into step beside House as they neared the hospital
cafeteria. 

"Well, it probably means that she's been milking cows, or fucking them,"
House answered, grabbing a tray from the stack just outside the cafeteria
line. "Hungry?"

"Fucking them? Really, Greg. I'm not one of your underlings; you don't
have to say things like that just to shock me." 

"Really, James," House replied, a mocking lilt to his voice, "I'm not
trying to shock you. How am I supposed to know how fourteen year old girls
get their jollies these days? Maybe cows are the new, hip thing. Just not
the ones infected with nasty little bacteria."

Wilson sighed and picked up a tray, signaling the woman behind the counter
for a salad. Im not sure to whom youre being more offensive the girls or
the cows.

Got a thing for cows? House asked cheerfully. I forgot you grew up in
Missouri. Did a lot of milking, did you?

As a matter of fact, Wilson replied, I did.

Hmmm I think Im in the mood for a hamburger. House turned and leered at
his companion. Rare.

You know, I just dont understand why youre not more popular with the
ladies, Wilson snorted, watching with an expression of distaste as a
somewhat pink burger was plopped onto the other mans tray. With charming
conversational skills like this, you should be kicking them out of your
bed.

Oh, I do plenty of kicking, to be sure. House pounded his cane on the
floor dramatically. And Ill bet you got tons of little milk maids. All
blonde pig tails and flannel shirts tied over bare tummies? He looked down
at the hamburger and licked his lips. Mmmm.

Milk maids arent really my type. Wilson handed a ten dollar bill to the
cashier and then followed House to a table that appeared to be as far away
as possible from the other patrons.

More into the stable boys, hmm? House asked, taking a large bite of the
hamburger before Wilson could reply. Still chewing, he pronounced, Mmmm
sgood.

At least Im not constructing fantasies about fourteen year old gymnasts
and cows.

Cheerleader.

Whatever. I assume youve cured her, though, or you wouldnt be so glib.
Wait who am I kidding? Of course you would! Already taken her down to the
morgue, have you? Wilson stabbed viciously with his fork at a piece of
lettuce.

Tut tut, Dr. Wilson, its not normally in your nature to be so morbid.
House squirted a glob of ketchup unceremoniously onto his plate. As it so
happens, the girl is on her way to a speedy recovery, thanks to an apple a
day and a high dose of penicillin. He tilted his head. Served with a
smile, of course.

Of course. And about the stable boys

House held up a hand. Say no more. I know exactly where your interests
lie.

Wilson raised an eyebrow. Do you? And what about you?

House took another bite of the hamburger. Grew up in Pittsburgh, he
explained after swallowing. No horses or cows. Lots of cheerleaders,
though.

Wilson cleared his throat. You know, Greg, just because you usually go for
cows doesnt mean that you cant like horses as well

Oh? Even if you marry the cow? Or two or three for that matter?

Even if.

House chewed thoughtfully for a moment. Tell the truth. Were you ever in
Future Farmers of America?

Um yes. Wilson cracked a small smile. Blue ribbon three years running for
a goat. Her name was Trixie.

Well, now. I think thats much more impressive than doing splits and
yelling cheers. House finished off the last bit of the hamburger and then
stood. I think Ill go with goats, actually. Much more interesting than
horses and cows.

Wilson looked up at him. Are we still talking about livestock?"  
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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.