And Careful With That Teapot
Summary: For a friend, a short House muse. It's around Valentine's Day, so that's probably an influence.
Author's Note: Purely written for my friend so that she might finally do a House muse. (Takes place perhaps second season-ish.) House-Cuddy-ish… (Please, 'Le, do House!!!!)
Disclaimer: I do not own House. (I just restated the obvious. THAT COUNTS AS SARCASM!!!! Muwahahahaaa!)
Genre: House. Lol.
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"Of course life isn't fair!" he barked at a patient. He thought for a second before storming out. "That's why God invented Youtube!" So with that, he hobbled away.
"Well," remarked Cameron, in the clinic ward. "He's in a good mood today."
Wilson was right beside her, regarding the team in general. "Yeah well…you guys have done well."
She looked away from her boss's retreating form. "What do you mean?"
"Taking sarcasm with sarcasm."
She smiled. "I'm sure he wouldn't have it any other way."
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Dr. Lisa Cuddy, seated in her office, read the note carefully…:
"Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
No clinic duty for House
Doth work for you too."
She rolled her eyes and threw it away.
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"Ok!" he hobbled in. "Over-protective mom with unexplained whiney-ness…" He reached for the felt eraser to wipe off the remnants of the last case. Turning around, he was surprised to see the two boys surprised in silent confusion. "Oh! I'm sorry," corrected House. "I didn't realize we were rehearsing in a silent film," Setting aside his flamey cane, he suddenly started playing air piano.
"Um…"
House took the liberty of shushing Chase as he dramatically finished the nineth bar of the main theme from the Phantom of the Opera. Oh now if only he had a mask to take off. Cameron walked in just as the A note seceded.
"Um, yeah," concluded Foreman. "What are her actual symptoms?"
"What?" he said. "You think I'm lying?"
"Everybody lies," she offered, taking a seat next Chase, in her curt manner of politeness. Suddenly, she looked around. "What?"
The two boys seemed to shrug.
"Nice of you to join us," said House, taking a marker pen.
"So what are her symptoms?" asked Chase.
He stopped annoyedly. "Ah, hello," he said, showing his pen was already touching the board. So then House started writing some words…:
Chase squinted. "Flowers…"
"Candy?" rasied Foreman.
Cameron had to lean from where she was sitting. "Annoying little hearts…?"
"Valentine's Day," said Chase.
House looked a little surprised. "Oh my gosh! Got it in one!" He put the cap back on the marker. "Right, now, go do something useful," He grabbed his cane and walked out of the office, just like that.
Foreman seemed to roll his eyes. He closed a folder and picked up his jacket.
"Hey wait," said Cameron. "Where are you going?"
He couldn't help but smile as he stood, putting on his coat. "House doesn't have a case,"
Cameron pursued. "And we don't have lives!"
He grinned, knowingly, and walked out.
The two were left to stare at each other for quite some time.
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Dr. House, going to open Cuddy's door and raise some holy hell, had good reason to do so, because when he gets clinic duty, nobody gets left alone. No calls go answered. No injustice too grand!
"Happy Valentine's Day, House!" she greeted, knowing it was pointless, but she smiled nonetheless.
He closed the door. "Funny, I was about to say, 'Happy Day of Doom!'"
She shook her head, "What do you want, House?"
He considered. "Will this burn up one of my three wishes?"
She scoffed a little, organizing some old tax papers in a folder "House if you don't have a case, go do your work in the clinic. It's a simple concept!" She put the folder away.
"Not if it's any fun," he argued, watching her.
She looked up at him, briefly, "Go," she commanded.
She got up again and by the bookcase on a side table, she picked up the most curious thing House ever saw her…well, pick up. There was a porcelain-white teapot sitting there, with two matching glasses on either side. It was so strange. He coolly hobbled over.
She poured herself what ever was in there, took a sip, and looked up at his quizzical stare. "What?"
He reached for the teapot, setting his cane aside, he looked at it as if it was an under-developed human embryo with three arms and one eye.
She watched him, "Hey careful with that!"
"What is it?"
"What is it," she imitated. "It was my grandmother's; so be careful!"
"You don't have a grandmother."
"Not now I don't. Thanks, House, for pointing that out to me."
He kept looking at it.
"House. I have always had it in here."
"You have not."
"I have too."
He finally set it down. "Prove it."
"House I can't prove it!"
"Then you haven't had it in here."
"House—"
"What, did you bring it in for show-and-tell?"
"House—!"
He continued playing twenty questions. "Ooo, what's his name? You always have tea at three? Why didn't you ever invite me?"
"Hm," she moved away, walking back to her desk. "Then you must not have gotten my messages. Oh, well, your loss."
It was then that he got an idea. So, he grabbed his cane and walked out.
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A couple days later, there was a curious addition to the team office that screamed pink walls, lacey curtains, and Earl Grey, hot. It was a teapot; white, porcelain, seated right next to the coffee maker. It went unused, obviously, but every time someone tried to handle it, House would say, "And careful with that teapot!" just for kicks.
However, at any given day at three o'clock, House just figured Cuddy never got any of his messages.
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-Caliko