Big Chunk Of Charity Fic
“So, anyway, this little blonde in 314? She looks tiny, right, like the ultimate victim? But I’m here to tell you right now, she kicked Chase’s ass. I’m really torn right now,” Foreman told the assemblage of residents in the cafeteria.
“Oh, no,” said the new doc in peds, who was always the first to sympathize and would be considered by many of the male doctors to have few redeeming features apart from wearing angora sweaters with cleavage.”Is he okay?”
“Yeah. I can’t believe it, but I actually did see him hobbling down to the lab today. Ortho gave him a boot and everything. But I’m sure when he tells the story it’ll be like ‘Crikey, those hockey players pack a wallop, mate’, I bet you any amount of money.”
The whole table laughed at Foreman’s Chase impression, which, due to proximity, if nothing else,was fairly spot-on.”To think I was worried about becoming House.”
“You said you were torn?” a young doctor Foreman had never seen before asked. Probably worked in the morgue…wanna-be cutters were so detail-oriented.
“Yeah, I’m not sure if I should do a tox screen on her or pin a medal on her. Or call Psych. But, really, what’s crazy about occasionally wanting to kick the shit out of Robert Chase? I’m sure you all feel me on that.”
Foreman almost wanted to cover his mouth after his accidental lapse back into negritude, but told himself he was being ridiculous. She had impressive technique, though. Real Jackie Chan shit. And she was out of it, too. Can you imagine having that kind of power at your disposal without even thinking about it?”
***
“No,”Lisa Cuddy was polite but firm, not that it ever mattered anyway. “You may not do fifteen tests on an eighteen-year-old girl."
“Don’t worry about her,” House argued. “She’s strong enough to drop-kick a member of my team. The wimpy member, but hell,if it had been Cameron, I could retire off the pay-per-view.”
Cuddy paced thoughtfully.”How’s her tox screen look?”
“As good as yours, now that you’ve admitted you don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ no babies.”
Cuddy sat behind her desk, drumming her fingers in that way she knew drove House insane. With her schedule, she supposed she had always known taking time out to be pregnant was a pipe dream, but he didn’t have to be such an ass about it. Tap, tap, tap. Jerk.
“It’s not steroids,” he told her. “I’ve checked her for suspicious bulges.”
Cuddy’s eyebrow went up. “What if it’s not her bulges I’m worried about?”
“Please, Mom, all the other cool diagnosticians got to work on a superhero.”
“Ok, but this can’t be a free-for-all. Pick your top five. And I absolutely need you to document everything AND show up for your clinic hours.”
“Fine.”
Cuddy was taken aback. No kvetching. No excuses. No quotations from Che Guevara’s speeches. Something was definitely messing with Greg House’s head. Cuddy felt oddly cheated, as if her favorite workout had been canceled. She had been prepared to go round and round with House for another twenty minutes.
“Either you’re maturing,” she replied. “Or you’re getting sick.”
“Yeah. Like there’s a difference.”