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daily writing (House crack)
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More of the wingfic for
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niqaeli."What are you going to do? Smite me? You don't even look like you could get up right now. Get him on a nutrient IV," House said in Chase's general direction. "Get a scale in here and weigh him, and find out what he weighed at last check-up."
Wilson said, "A hundred s--"
"Don't trust you," House sing-songed. "About weight? Don't even. If you can figure out a way to weigh the wings, that would be super. Be creative. They feel heavy, Wilson?"
Wilson shrugged testingly. "Not--I don't know. It doesn't feel much worse than a backpack."
"A backpack full of medical textbooks?" House suggested. "Check his pituitary. Check the DNA in the wings. Actually--" He felt around in his jacket pocket and pulled out the feather he'd plucked earlier. "Here. And swab his mouth--no, scratch that, mouth may not be far enough from the, er, site of incident. I mean, swab it anyway, but get a toe swab or something, too. Check his office and his house and see if you can get any older DNA samples. Wilson, give Foreman your keys."
Wilson did so, looking wry but not bothering to comment. Cameron, who had listened with increasing puppy face, looked about ready to protest. House wondered why. "Check immune response," House went on, partly to pacify her, partly because it needed to be done.
"Because, if the DNA of the wings is different, his body might...?" Cameron trailed off, glancing uncomfortably at Wilson.
"Not what I was thinking, actually," though it was certainly possible that Wilson's body would reject the new growths. "My best theory here is genetic engineering, which would have been accomplished via..." He looked around, tapping his cane. "Anyone?"
"Retrovirus!" Chase said, sounding pleased.
"But that's not possible," Cameron protested. "We're nowhere near that advanced!"
"Didn't they make a mouse grow a foot on its back?" House asked. And really, if it wasn't genetic engineering, he was down to "pecked by a radioactive pigeon" àla Spiderman, or divine providence. Which, seriously. Come on. "There's no way we can get him in a MRI tube," House mused regretfully. "X-ray them, anyway. X-ray all of him. And measure his wingspan. Check--I don't know. Check anything that strikes your fancy. That enough to keep you lot busy for a while?"
"What're you going to do?" asked Foreman.
"Surf internet porn," House answered, grinning, heading for the door.
"House," Wilson called.
"Yeah?"
"What about me? I've got work I need to be doing," Wilson said.
"Well, you can't see patients," House said reasonably, "but you can do things my way if you want. Chase, you can be our ambassador to Oncology. Get him whatever he wants. See if he's treated any mad scientists recently."
"Right," Chase said, sounding amused.
"Or worked with any," House added over his shoulder, already out the door.
Cameron caught up with him a few moments later. "I can't believe you did that in front of him," she said accusingly.
House made a show of thinking about it, then asked her, "Did what?"
"All of it!" Cameron said.
"Hey, I'm not the one who told him they might fall off," House pointed out, beause from the way Cameron had stopped in the middle of that sentence, she'd regretted saying it as soon as it had gotten out of her mouth.
"What about sending Foreman to snoop around his house, right in front of him?" Cameron demanded, undeterred. "And saying you don't trust him? Isn't he your friend?"
"Because he's my friend," House said, imitating her emphasis, "he knows how I operate. I'm not going to insult him by lying and then doing it behind his back."
"But you could just--trust him," Cameron suggested, though clearly not with much hope of this suggestion actually being taken to heart.
"And I probably would," House said, "to the extent that I trust anybody. If I thought he was rational. He wants to work--probably thought he could just wander the hospital flapping his wings and go about his business. Never mind that he's practically a stick, and people would gawk, and we don't have a clue if his condition is contagious."
"Contagious!" Cameron gasped. Disbelief, or horror?
"His denial could just be the first step on a long road to acceptance," House went on, "or it could be a symptom. So, no, I don't trust him. Go feel up his lymph nodes or something, why don't you."
House left her standing in the hallway, open-mouthed.
Back in his office, he pulled out his keyboard tray, opened up a browser window, and set out to see what google could teach him about ornithology.
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(Anonymous) 2005-11-17 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
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Hee! Somehow, it's very, very easy to imagine Wilson being vain and lying about his weight.
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*is not used to people commenting first and *then* reading*
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Mad love!
P.S. I think you mean 'ornithology' in the last line.
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Spelling champ. Got to county in the 6th grade.
But in weird places? Total block.
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I love snarky House. He fills me with joy. (was going through withdrawl ^^;) Also, silly Cameron. *pats her* She doesn't know that it's OMG true love that he visited a patient who wasn't dying/insane/in need of verbal butt whupping. XP
I really need to lurk around your journal more. *clutches fic* There are shinies here.
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BTW I'm sending you copies of these DVDs. And the list of the ones you didn't see.
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Yay! You are my crack queen! I bow before you!
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Cameron doesn't understand that it's a weird sort of compliment, does she?
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Please? This is just the crack I need...
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