Rating: T (Teen--language and suggestive scenes)

Spoilers: Season 3

Notes: House MD belongs to FOX. Please send comments to dante0220@yahoo.com.


Chapter 1 [West Princeton]

After a night of pouring rain and brisk winds, Princeton lay quiet as the sun crept into the sky on that June morning. A few pets and their owners braved a careful jog around the area. The birds tried a few notes before breaking into song. Once everyone was sure it was safe, it would improve but for the time being, a few explorers tested the waters for the others.

Cuddy whacked the alarm clock with a weak slap and groaned. For the past few weeks, the latest fundraiser had occupied her attention. She’d buried herself in her suite, keeping the door locked (and pissing off a certain diagnostician in the process). Still, with the telethon coming up in two months time, she wanted her peers to see PPTH’s donation check front and center.

With the windfall from their efforts, the network folks would be pleased indeed.

However, as was the usual case when her obsession got the best of her, she had ignored her health and regular routines. Sure, she’d kept up her Clinic rotations and lectures to the medical students. She’d continued to keep tabs on House albeit through Wilson and the Ducklings. Yet she hadn’t paid nearly as much attention to her diet, cramming a little salad or crackers or a bit of tuna here and there into the corners of her hectic schedule.

And the last two days, she felt drained and listless as if the energy were literally being drained away from her. I really should’ve stayed away from that patient in the Clinic last week. She set her feet on the floor but they ached in protest.

“Great. Now what?” she said—but the words came out as a hoarse whisper.

Putting her hand to her forehead, she groaned again at the heat under it. “Wonderful.” While she knew she needed to get some paperwork done, she knew better than to infect half of the hospital with the laryngitis she’d picked up in the Clinic. She sighed. I hate this! She ground her teeth, knowing full well that it meant at least two days in bed after a trip to the doctors and pharmacy. Better let Wilson know. With that, she picked up the phone and made the sick call.



Chapter 2 [PPTH—later that morning]

House sat in his office suite bouncing the tennis ball against the wall. With the Edwards-phlebitis case behind him and his underlings, he had time for the really important stuff. He glanced at his watch, discerning that it was only fifteen minutes until his soap came on. Having sent the Ducklings on their way, he snatched the ball out of the air without taking his eyes off of the mini-TV on his desk.

“Nice trick,” Wilson complimented while entering the suite.

“Glad you think so.” The diagnostician glanced at his watch. “What? No coffee break with that hottie redhead downstairs?”

The oncologist rolled his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint, House, but I don’t hit on every woman in the hospital.”

House snorted sarcastically. “Careful, Jimmy, your fans might be disappointed. And to think you dumped your date for me, whoa! Is there something I need to know?”

Wilson fumed and counted to ten. “Actually, I was going to ask for a favor.” He grimaced, knowing how the other felt about extra duty.

“A favor?” House rose from his chair and considered his best friend for a minute. Much as a hungry shark circled its victim, he hobbled across the floor and shut the door. “This oughtta be good.” He closed the door.

“I just heard the Clinic needs covering.”

“And you think I’ll do it?” House chuckled. “I didn’t slip anything in your coffee, did I? As if I’d go in there without having to.”

“It would be from 11 to 2. Maybe I could do your Clinic hours for the rest of the week on top of mine?” Wilson offered.

House instinctively smelled the odor of something going on. “Those are Cuddy’s hours. Florence Nightingale’s going to miss her latest round of sainthood? Yeah right!”

Knowing what was really going on, the anxious visitor shrugged. “She has a meeting.” At least she is meeting with a doctor—her own.

House wasn’t buying the excuse. He knew their boss too well. She had never missed a Clinic rotation or lecture at least not without insuring there was a replacement at least a week in advance. This was a puzzle needing a solution.

And of course, House could never resist a puzzle especially with Cuddy in its center. Besides he could use the hours to torture Foreman some more before he finally left the team. “Yeah. I’ll make sure the Clinic’s covered.” He sank back into the chair and considered his friend again. “You owe me.”

“As if I don’t do enough already?” Rolling his eyes, Wilson relented, “Fine. I’ll buy dinner later this week.”
“Goodie. Now shoo! Show’s about to come on,” House dismissed, waving at Wilson with the back of his hand.

“See you there in an hour and thanks,” Wilson expressed before leaving the office.

House smirked. For once, he had something more important than the soap. Picking up the phone, he dialed Foreman’s pager number and waited.

There was something more important indeed……




Chapter 3
[Two hours later—Clinic]

Wilson came out of Exam Room 1, keeping a careful eye out for House. As always, patients filled the seating area from a combination of illnesses and ailments. Just that morning, he’d dealt with a dozen of them and knew the latest flu epidemic would send more their way.

“Twenty bucks says he doesn’t show,” Nurse Henderson muttered; her eyes intent on her paperwork.

“He said he’d be here,” he countered.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” she retorted sarcastically.

Foreman walked through the doors briskly and made his way over to them. From the seriousness in his features, it was clear that he’d been coerced into the slot. “I’m here.”

Wilson sighed, recalling that House said that he’d make sure the ‘Clinic was covered’. He made sure that one of his underlings did it. Cuddy’s going to kill me! “Where is he?”

“He told me to get down here and then took off. Chase and Cameron don’t know anything either. Let’s just get this over with. I need to get back to my packing.”

“Fine. Exam Room 2,” she agreed while handing the folder to the neurologist. After Foreman left, she cleared her throat and wagged her fingers—palm up at Wilson.

Wilson shook his head while placing a crisp twenty in her hand. House, where are you?


*****


[Rinaldi’s Pharmacy]

Cuddy slowly made her way into the drug store. Her doctor had prescribed certain antibiotics for what he called advanced laryngitis. Whatever that means. Way to go, Lisa. A week in bed. Hope Wilson can keep things going that long! She coughed, figuring that she’d find a way to shave two days off of her sentence and escape back to work before that point.

She glanced around anxiously, trying to steer clear of the other customers. Last thing I want to do is infect anyone else! Seeing an empty chair, she nearly collapsed into it. “This can’t be just laryngitis.”

The pharmacist, a thin man with white hair and glasses, hurried out to her. “Dr. Cuddy, I’m sorry. What can I do for you?”

“Need script filled please,” she requested while handing him the paper and making sure not to breathe near his face.

Reading her hoarse whisper, he nodded and walked briskly back behind the counter.

She wiped the sweat off of her forehead. Terrific. I must be a real sight! She coughed sharply into a handkerchief. The air conditioning didn’t help either as it set off a case of the chills.

“Is there anything else?” the pharmacist asked, trying to be helpful. “I can have one of the clerks get what you need.”

“No thanks, Tony,” she whispered while getting up and taking a basket. “Can I pay for this up front?”

“Absolutely. Feel better, Dr. Cuddy,” he agreed.

She managed a smile for him before grabbing a basket and staggering toward the refrigerated section. There she found a gallon of orange juice and some yogurt. This will help and I have that chicken soup in the cupboard.

At that moment, the chills turned hot.

As with the previous two days, the weakness threatened to overwhelm her. She set the basket down and braced herself against the wall.

“Some meeting, Cuddy,” a familiar voice gibed from behind her.

She breathed heavily, wincing at the thought of House seeing her like this. “Hou…se.” At that moment, she collapsed.

Before she could hit the floor, he caught her. “Figures you’d make me do all of the damn work.” He felt her forehead, left wrist and neck for pulse, skin warmth and swelling. “Can’t take care of yourself, can you, Cuddy?” He frowned, recalling the wave of sickies from the previous week in the Clinic. “Damn it!” He grabbed a box of face masks off of the shelf and ripped it open.

“Sir, you can’t….” one of the clerks insisted.

Flashes of blue fire shot out of House’s eyes at the young interloper. “You a doctor, Kid?”

“No.”

“Well that makes me an army of one. Get your boss now!” he snapped sharply.

Tony rushed out to where the two doctors were. “Dr. House?”

“Stop right there!” the diagnostician ordered. “Be smart and put one of these on, will you? Crap!” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed it.

“911. What’s your emergency?” the operator asked.

“We need an ambulance at Rinaldi’s Pharmacy in Princeton Junction. Can you find that?” he replied.

A series of key strokes later, the woman’s voice came back. “Of course, sir. Is there a hospital preference?”

“Princeton Plainsboro. And make sure everyone’s wearing masks!” he growled before hanging up.

“Do you know what she has?” Tony wondered.

House glared at the pharmacist much as he had the pathetic teenaged underling a few minutes earlier. “Let’s see.” He placed two fingers on her forehead and tilted his head to the side. “Psychic hotline’s down right now. Guess I should get her back to my office. Think that’s a great idea?” For emphasis, he added the wide eyed blank expression. “Want to be useful? Make sure the customers don’t leave until we can look them over.”

“Fortunately, she was the only one here right now,” the clerk interjected.

“Great. Let’s hope that no yucky stuff’s waiting around here,” House insisted. Seeing the EMTs enter the shop, he whistled loudly to get their attention.

“What’s going on, House?” one of the technicians inquired.

“The boss is taking a siesta in my arms. What do you think, Genius?” he groused. “Let’s get her back to Princeton Plainsboro.” He watched as they placed her on the stretcher and led her away. “Terrific! So much for avoiding her for the day.” He dialed his phone again, paging the Ducklings.

Then he took off for his car. Maybe he wouldn’t admit it but the ambulance had someone dear to him on it. And there was no way he’d let it out of his sight……
 

Chapter 4
[PPTH—Emergency Room Area]

With Foreman still trapped in the Clinic, Cameron and Chase waited in the midst of the evacuated ambulance entrance for the convoy to arrive. For the two residents, they had wanted at least one lunch to themselves without House pulling something.

“What do you think it is this time?” she muttered.

“House gave up his soap for it. It must be bloody important,” he retorted. He glanced into her eyes. “After this is done, want a rain check?”

“Think he’d be suspicious if we both call in?” she inquired sarcastically.

He snorted. “Cameron, this is House we’re talking about.”

“Good point,” she admitted while hearing the ambulance’s siren approaching. “Heads up.” As the vehicle backed into the slot, she could see the EMTs wearing their masks. “What the Hell?”

The driver saw them standing there without their masks. “Get something on your faces! We have an infectious woman here!” He tossed them a pair of masks.

“Who is it?” she wondered.

“Your boss, Doc,” the driver answered while opening the back doors and helping the others to lift Cuddy onto a stretcher and hurrying her into the hospital.

“What the Hell?” Cameron reiterated.

“That seems to be the question of the day,” Chase quipped as they ran after the EMTs. Catching up to them, he directed, “Clean room’s to the left.”

“Sounds great,” another of the EMTs agreed as they rushed the ailing administrator in there.

“Guess we know what was so important,” Cameron presumed.

“I knew there was a reason I hired you—other than the fact you make great coffee,” House cracked while limping toward them as fast as he could manage. “Anything yet?”

“We had the EMTs put her in a clean room. What’s going on with her?” Chase informed him.

House glared at the younger man, effectively shutting him up. While he might’ve engaged in some witty repartee at any other point, he had other priorities at the moment. “That, Chase, is what I pay you three the big bucks for. Go and spring Foreman from Whiner Central. I’ll be right there.” He limped into the clean room’s airlock and donned a yellow contamination suit. Then, after a quick sprits in the shower, he continued to the raven-haired patient’s side.

“We’ll get checked out, House,” the EMT agreed.

“Wow. Smart and a lead foot. My hero. Shower’s down the hall. Leave your clothes. We’ll decontaminate them,” House instructed.

“Hate to tell you, House, but we have other stops….”

The diagnostician wheeled around on the EMT and the latter’s cohorts. “Oh I’ll bet! Meantime, you want to infect half of the city! Some party then, huh? Radio your damn boss and tell him already.” The blank eyed stare followed.

The head EMT rubbed his temples to soothe the headache starting there. While he wanted to lash out, he knew better than to get into a snark match with the gimpy physician. “Fine. Let’s go, guys.”

After they’d left, House examined Cuddy again. He discerned no new signs or symptoms—just the flushed sweats and the shakes. “Wonderful.” As much as he wanted to knock his cane over the head of Cuddy’s quack, he thought to start with the medicine from the drug store. He studied the brown vial and its label for a second. “Figures. Might as well play darts as use this crap.” He flung the bottle into the trash angrily. “DAMN IT!”

He collapsed into a chair; the situation’s stress firing up the burning from the infarction once again. Rolling his eyes, he jabbed his hand into his pants’ pocket, pulled his own bottle out and almost flung three white oblong pills down his throat. For two minutes afterward, he sat there both letting the Vicodin do its thing and to watch Cuddy.

Feeling the welcome numbing of the pain, he forced himself to stand. Limping to her side, he grabbed for the hypodermic attached to the IV. “Might as well start her on the good stuff.” With that, he set to work.


****


[Thirty minutes later—Diagnostics Suite]

Foreman snatched another item off of his desk and almost threw it in the packing box. Can’t believe he’s still doing that garbage to me! For a full ten seconds, he felt the steam coming out of his ears. After that, he composed himself. Of course he is. That’s why you’re getting out of here, remember?

“Good. You’re still here,” Cameron realized as she and Chase rushed into the suite. “House wants a differential diagnosis.”

“Differential?” The neurologist scoffed. “We haven’t had a case in two days! Differential on what?”

“Differential on whom,” House corrected him while limping into the room. “Thanks for playing but since you’re already off the playground, we can handle it.”

She was about to object but Chase shook his head at her.

“Don’t mind me then. I’ll grab lunch,” Foreman growled before leaving.

“Was that necessary?” she chided.

“He wants out. Fine. Big help, he is,” the Diagnostician retorted from the whiteboard where he was writing down symptoms.

“Looks like regular laryngitis to me,” Chase supposed after reading the laundry list.

“Figured that out on your lonesome, did you?” House snapped, letting the mask droop ever so slightly. Seeing the couple’s startled glance—a rare treat for two so accustomed to his usual brusqueness—he shrugged. “I just spent the last hour with said patient.” He took a deep breath and swallowed four vicodin pills.

“So why do you need the differential?” She focused on him, sensing that something wasn’t making sense there. “And why are you so interested in a perfectly boring case?”

“I’m feeling lazy today so sue me,” the boss replied flippantly.

She snorted, knowing he was like that every day. Before he could stop her, she grabbed for the folder. “Wonder what Cuddy will think of this?” When she read the name, she stopped.

“Cameron?” Chase inquired.

“Wonder Girl there just figured out the angle, Chase,” House revealed with an air of dark sarcasm. “Get it now, Cameron?”

“In more ways than one,” she fired back, not hiding her own distaste for his motives.

“And here I thought you moved on. Careful, Chase, she’s still playing the field,” House advised sarcastically. “My reasons are my own. Meantime, let’s get back to the case.”

“And the butt kissing,” she groused.

“Get yourself sick, Cameron. Maybe you might be next,” House countered impatiently.

“Okay, guys,” Chase interjected. “The case, remember?”

“Nice to see one person’s on point,” House complimented half-sincerely. “Chase is right. We need to figure out a treatment regimen here.”

“What about regular antibiotics and bed rest?” she interjected.

“If Cuddy hadn’t tried to play superwoman the last two weeks, I’d say cool. Sorry, Cameron, the laryngitis settled and started inviting its buddies to the neighborhood. The cookout’s nasty. Right now, we’re sitting on a bomb and it’s ticking.”

Chase stared at him. “House, we can’t contain it. The disease is already out of the hospital! Where did you find Cuddy?”

“At Rinaldi’s,” House informed him; his mind already thinking of strategies to deal with the current problem. “Wilson needs to know about this too.” He rolled his eyes anticipating the whine and protests that his best friend would have. “But I do know one place that’s going to shut its doors.” He smirked darkly at that thought.

The two younger doctors knew where he was going with that. “But Cuddy….”

“Cuddy’s out of it. Wilson’s been put in charge of the playground now. Too bad her favorite place is about to bite the dust…at least for now,” House disagreed. “Go ahead and draw a blood sample from the Empress. I’ll be by to harass her later. Don’t forget to put your stuff on.” With that, he took off.

“This is going to go really well,” Chase supposed.

“Might as well get it over with,” she commented with a sigh. “We might want to test ourselves too since we were in the Clinic with that epidemic.”

“Terrific,” he groused as they left the suite for Cuddy’s room.




Chapter 5
[Wilson’s Office]

Wilson paced about his office wondering which way to proceed. He knew Cuddy should have been back in her office hours earlier. Worse, there had been no sign of House since he limped out earlier that day. Where is she? More importantly, where is House? What is he up to? He ran his hands through his chestnut hair, anticipating that this stress would make him go grey all the faster.

On cue, the target of his thoughts barged into his sanctum. “Big news!”

“What have you done now, House?” the oncologist demanded.

“Moi?” The diagnostician slapped his chest in mock-shock. “Why do you think I’m up to something?”

Wilson stared at him expectantly with his arms across his chest, arching his right eyebrow while he did so. “Because you’re always up to something.”

House shrugged. “Maybe but that’s for me to know and you to find out.” He walked about the room, knowing full well what a drawn out moment would do to his friend. Stopping in front of the window, he rubbed his stubbled chin and surveyed the view outside of the window. Then he stepped back. “WHOA! Jimmy Boy, you’ve been holding out on me! No wonder you wanted this window. Get a load of the babes jogging up the path! Damn!”

“Yes, yes,” Wilson replied, feeling his cheeks flushing slightly as he knew House was filing that information in his ‘gibe-file’ for later use. He ran his hand over his forehead and took a deep breath. “Look, House, I have enough on my plate right now as it is. Nobody knows where Cuddy is and we need to keep the hospital running….”

“Never thought to look right under your nose. You are a boss in the making, aren’t you?”

Wilson glared at him. “You DO know something!”

House shrugged. He was savoring this game too much to give quick answers to his friend. “Maybe.”

Wilson smacked his own head. “Damn it, House! What is it?”

“Wow. You really can’t figure it out, can you?” House half-sneered.

“Enlighten us with your genius, House.”

House smirked. “The Empress is downstairs, Smarty. Imagine! Her all knowing doctor let her wander the streets infecting the world. Let her pick up her own pills and everything!” His face turned into the wide eyed blank stare.

“The nerve of that guy,” Wilson fired back with equal parts impatience and sarcasm. “But why is she down….”

House rolled his eyes. “Maybe because she’s a PATIENT? You think? Computer’s slow as Hell so it’ll take another two hours for her to show up on the patient roster. I already have Chase and Cameron looking at her. I’ll go by later for my shots. We figure she’s super nasty contagious. Laryngitis and something else….”

“Something else?” Wilson interrupted him. “We could have an epidemic on our hands and you’re guessing?”

“Sorry—I thought you administrative BIG SHOT types loooved theories and spinning your wheels,” House fired back, not sure whether he liked getting Wilson’s goat or hated the fact that he was wasting time he could’ve been using to watch after Cuddy in person. “You should see Cuddy when I start doing that. She scrunches her face up like a hyena and shrieks like one too.”

“Humor me then,” the other man huffed. “You have a theory.”

“Well DUH! And it’s so ultra cool too!” House snapped back sarcastically. “Know the mystery crud in the Clinic last week?”

“We figured out the laryngitis part when the nurses got sick. Still they were drained and exhausted with sore throats. We figured it was….” Wilson stared at his friend who smirked expectantly at him.

“The underlings are going to test Cuddy’s blood for sure. I think it’s advanced bronchitis on top of the laryngitis. Looks like Boss Lady’s out of commission for a week. Way to go on the promotion, Big Guy!” House explained. “And that gets to my next point.” He smiled, savoring the next thought in his head.

Recognizing the ‘shark-smile’ on his friend’s face, Wilson gulped in spite of himself. “I know I’m going to regret this but go ahead.”

“Shut down the Clinic and go through it. Meantime, quarantine that place…like forever,” House told him.

“I’m sure you’d like that,” Wilson chuckled in spite of himself. Then his face turned serious. “House, if you found her, you’re exposed too!”

House waved a clean face mask at his friend. “Funny what these things do. I had one on like it at Rinaldi’s. I was a boy scout too, remember?”

“Too bad it didn’t stick,” Wilson muttered.

“They’re whiners anyway,” House declared. “Anyhow got to run and see to the Evil Queen of Numbers. Finally. I can get the last word in.” He limped toward the elevator.

She always lets you have it anyhow. Wilson frowned while calling downstairs. “Nurse Henderson, this is Dr. Wilson. Shut down the Clinic now and have the patients stay right there. I’m sending some staff in suits down to you to check and treat everyone there. Just keep them there.” He hung up the phone. Leave it to House to figure out a way to shut the Clinic down. He shook his head and walked out toward his window to look at the landscape…and the joggers.