Fic: Superimposition (4/?)
Title: Superimposition
Rating: PG-13 at the moment
Summary: House is arrested for his actions in 7x23. Tritter's manning the police station, with express orders to let him go. But when the antagonism between the two men leads to hesitation and some game-playing, they unwittingly end up in a fight for their lives. Can they work together and save themselves - as well as two others?
A/N: I don’t own any of the characters on House, David Shore does; the only people I have any rights to are the OCs (Miranda, Alvarez, Neely, and Lee). Takes place after 7x23. There is some weird stuff going down in this story. Just to let you know. I had a vague idea of where I wanted to go and then just kind of went with it (I've written up to chapter nine thus far) and it has gotten pretty weird.
Chapter One: Mission Statement
Chapter Two: Arrest
Chapter Three: Interrogation
Chapter Four: Teams
Miranda walked towards the interrogation room with a bottle of Vicodin, but Tritter followed her. A scowl was etched into his face, and he raised his voice to protest as she neared the door.
"You're seriously going to give him more Vicodin?" he asked in disbelief. "Bennett, the man's an addict. He's just trying for a fix. He needs to get off the stuff, and you're just enabling him." Miranda glared back at him.
"Trit, I don't need him detoxing all over the floor, okay? The man's going to be a lot more malleable if we give him what he wants, and quite frankly, what he needs. And what did Alvarez say, anyway?" she looked at her partner and placed her hand on her hip. "Because I'm not getting involved in another little battle between you and her. You know full well she always wins and she doesn't like to play."
Tritter scowled again and looked at his partner, knowing her words to be true but not liking the fact that they were.
He'd requested her as a partner two years ago, and he always had asked himself exactly why. He knew the answer if he thought hard enough, but, again, he didn't like it. He didn't like that Miranda's kind, searching and curious eyes had reminded him, upon seeing them, of a woman he'd met three years before that.
That Miranda's big brown eyes had reminded him of Allison Cameron's eyes.
That he wanted a partner as devoted to him as Cameron was devoted to House.
It was messed up if he thought about it too much, and even if he only thought about it awhile, considering that when he'd met Cameron he'd derisively written her off as the employee equivalent of a battered spouse that senselessly comes back for more abuse because "he loves me".
House had assembled a perfect team, somehow - three people who for three different reasons were perfectly willing to lie for him, and, probably, lie to him.
There was Foreman, distrustful of authority - that's why he wouldn't talk to Tritter. He hated House, but he also admired him, that much had been obvious.
Tritter didn't want a Foreman as partner; too much resentment to make for an effective partnership and plus, it would be hard to spend those hours in squad cars together if a festering hatred was brimming below the surface.
There was Chase, but Chase was… well, Tritter wasn't entirely sure why Chase even worked for House, considering he hadn't seemed to like him very much, either.
But then there was Cameron. Flawless Cameron. Loyal Cameron.
Tritter had wanted a Cameron, and he'd seen one in Miranda. He'd only been a bit disappointed.
Miranda had bite, sarcasm, and as loyal as she was she'd never been afraid to fire back in Tritter's face that he was wrong. She called him "Trit", with a mix of affection and annoyance and if he had ever had a gun put to his head and been forced to tell anyone his deepest, darkest secrets, he'd tell them to Miranda.
"Okay," Tritter murmured, "Give him his Vicodin. And then let me talk to him."
"I don't think you need to go all 'bad-cop' on him, Trit," Miranda replied, "I mean, after all he admitted to crashing the car. Let's just give him his Vicodin and let Alvarez sort this out. You're still avoiding the question on what Alvarez said to you? Is it about this? Is it about Dr. House?"
At that point, Britney Rolling, the pretty police dispatcher, walked past. She was in her early twenties, probably (no one knew for sure because no one really cared to ask), and has silvery blonde hair and bright green eyes. She was a knock-out, and Tritter had wanted her since she'd been hired at the station three months ago. It wouldn't be that hard, really - legend had it had Britney had slept with Lee and a few of the sergeants already, anyway, not to mention a few members of the patrol. He just needed to say the word, really, if that were true. He just wasn't sure which word in particular.
Tritter's eyes drifted after Britney, focusing on her ass as Miranda let out a snort.
"Oh gee, sorry to have been interrupted by that slut," she grumbled once Britney was out of earshot. "I'll save you the trouble and get you some penicillin. Or, you know what's better? Dr. House can prescribe it for you!" She placed her hands on her hips and growled at her partner. She hated Britney. She admired Tritter. She hated Tritter for being so disappointing and utterly predictable as to be interested in someone like Britney. She and Tritter were a team.
Inseparable; she could remember the day she'd been introduced, "This is your new partner, Detective Tritter," and there'd been a light chuckle from Alvarez as she'd said it, kind of like it was an inside joke. And Tritter had been the laughingstock of the station then, still, but Miranda hadn't cared. She'd seen him as a mentor and she'd seen his virtues. She knew she could rely on him to back her up if need be, to get her out of the line of fire and really, that's what she needed.
That first week, Lee had taken to referring to her as "Shadow" and "Tritter Junior", but she'd quickly shown that she had talent in her own right, and not to write her off too easily. She'd solved cases - nothing too interesting but then again, it was Princeton, where the most exciting thing that tended to happen in the day would be raiding a frat party and coming away with a few bundles of ecstasy. No wonder Tritter had had time to spend using Department resources to go settle his own personal vendettas - it wasn't as if there was very much else to do. But slow as the caseload was, Miranda had a knack for knowing who was guilty and who wasn't, and most of all for calming down tense situations. More than once she'd waltzed into a barfight with a gentle smile and sorted everything out peacefully - when that failed, however, she could run and tackle with the best of them.
"You don't need to have that attitude," Tritter retorted, "I wasn't doing anything. And Alvarez said…" He looked at her and then trailed off, deciding against telling her about Alvarez's warnings, humiliating as they were. "Just let me get a crack at Dr. House," he said instead, "That's all I ask."
Rating: PG-13 at the moment
Summary: House is arrested for his actions in 7x23. Tritter's manning the police station, with express orders to let him go. But when the antagonism between the two men leads to hesitation and some game-playing, they unwittingly end up in a fight for their lives. Can they work together and save themselves - as well as two others?
A/N: I don’t own any of the characters on House, David Shore does; the only people I have any rights to are the OCs (Miranda, Alvarez, Neely, and Lee). Takes place after 7x23. There is some weird stuff going down in this story. Just to let you know. I had a vague idea of where I wanted to go and then just kind of went with it (I've written up to chapter nine thus far) and it has gotten pretty weird.
Chapter One: Mission Statement
Chapter Two: Arrest
Chapter Three: Interrogation
Chapter Four: Teams
Miranda walked towards the interrogation room with a bottle of Vicodin, but Tritter followed her. A scowl was etched into his face, and he raised his voice to protest as she neared the door.
"You're seriously going to give him more Vicodin?" he asked in disbelief. "Bennett, the man's an addict. He's just trying for a fix. He needs to get off the stuff, and you're just enabling him." Miranda glared back at him.
"Trit, I don't need him detoxing all over the floor, okay? The man's going to be a lot more malleable if we give him what he wants, and quite frankly, what he needs. And what did Alvarez say, anyway?" she looked at her partner and placed her hand on her hip. "Because I'm not getting involved in another little battle between you and her. You know full well she always wins and she doesn't like to play."
Tritter scowled again and looked at his partner, knowing her words to be true but not liking the fact that they were.
He'd requested her as a partner two years ago, and he always had asked himself exactly why. He knew the answer if he thought hard enough, but, again, he didn't like it. He didn't like that Miranda's kind, searching and curious eyes had reminded him, upon seeing them, of a woman he'd met three years before that.
That Miranda's big brown eyes had reminded him of Allison Cameron's eyes.
That he wanted a partner as devoted to him as Cameron was devoted to House.
It was messed up if he thought about it too much, and even if he only thought about it awhile, considering that when he'd met Cameron he'd derisively written her off as the employee equivalent of a battered spouse that senselessly comes back for more abuse because "he loves me".
House had assembled a perfect team, somehow - three people who for three different reasons were perfectly willing to lie for him, and, probably, lie to him.
There was Foreman, distrustful of authority - that's why he wouldn't talk to Tritter. He hated House, but he also admired him, that much had been obvious.
Tritter didn't want a Foreman as partner; too much resentment to make for an effective partnership and plus, it would be hard to spend those hours in squad cars together if a festering hatred was brimming below the surface.
There was Chase, but Chase was… well, Tritter wasn't entirely sure why Chase even worked for House, considering he hadn't seemed to like him very much, either.
But then there was Cameron. Flawless Cameron. Loyal Cameron.
Tritter had wanted a Cameron, and he'd seen one in Miranda. He'd only been a bit disappointed.
Miranda had bite, sarcasm, and as loyal as she was she'd never been afraid to fire back in Tritter's face that he was wrong. She called him "Trit", with a mix of affection and annoyance and if he had ever had a gun put to his head and been forced to tell anyone his deepest, darkest secrets, he'd tell them to Miranda.
"Okay," Tritter murmured, "Give him his Vicodin. And then let me talk to him."
"I don't think you need to go all 'bad-cop' on him, Trit," Miranda replied, "I mean, after all he admitted to crashing the car. Let's just give him his Vicodin and let Alvarez sort this out. You're still avoiding the question on what Alvarez said to you? Is it about this? Is it about Dr. House?"
At that point, Britney Rolling, the pretty police dispatcher, walked past. She was in her early twenties, probably (no one knew for sure because no one really cared to ask), and has silvery blonde hair and bright green eyes. She was a knock-out, and Tritter had wanted her since she'd been hired at the station three months ago. It wouldn't be that hard, really - legend had it had Britney had slept with Lee and a few of the sergeants already, anyway, not to mention a few members of the patrol. He just needed to say the word, really, if that were true. He just wasn't sure which word in particular.
Tritter's eyes drifted after Britney, focusing on her ass as Miranda let out a snort.
"Oh gee, sorry to have been interrupted by that slut," she grumbled once Britney was out of earshot. "I'll save you the trouble and get you some penicillin. Or, you know what's better? Dr. House can prescribe it for you!" She placed her hands on her hips and growled at her partner. She hated Britney. She admired Tritter. She hated Tritter for being so disappointing and utterly predictable as to be interested in someone like Britney. She and Tritter were a team.
Inseparable; she could remember the day she'd been introduced, "This is your new partner, Detective Tritter," and there'd been a light chuckle from Alvarez as she'd said it, kind of like it was an inside joke. And Tritter had been the laughingstock of the station then, still, but Miranda hadn't cared. She'd seen him as a mentor and she'd seen his virtues. She knew she could rely on him to back her up if need be, to get her out of the line of fire and really, that's what she needed.
That first week, Lee had taken to referring to her as "Shadow" and "Tritter Junior", but she'd quickly shown that she had talent in her own right, and not to write her off too easily. She'd solved cases - nothing too interesting but then again, it was Princeton, where the most exciting thing that tended to happen in the day would be raiding a frat party and coming away with a few bundles of ecstasy. No wonder Tritter had had time to spend using Department resources to go settle his own personal vendettas - it wasn't as if there was very much else to do. But slow as the caseload was, Miranda had a knack for knowing who was guilty and who wasn't, and most of all for calming down tense situations. More than once she'd waltzed into a barfight with a gentle smile and sorted everything out peacefully - when that failed, however, she could run and tackle with the best of them.
"You don't need to have that attitude," Tritter retorted, "I wasn't doing anything. And Alvarez said…" He looked at her and then trailed off, deciding against telling her about Alvarez's warnings, humiliating as they were. "Just let me get a crack at Dr. House," he said instead, "That's all I ask."