Disclaimer: Don't own it, but thanks for letting me play with it! It's been a pleasure to try to write something excellent with the fabulous characters created on this show.
Summary: Dr. House is in clinic duty…for once, he hasn't escaped it. He meets a fiery young woman with a tongue to match his own…not to mention DNA. Yes, folks, you heard it here first: Gregory House has a daughter. And little do they know, her clock is ticking…(Also, at some point in this story, you might wonder where Stacey is. To put it delicately…I haven't bothered including her. This has a lot to do with another woman from House's past, so she won't show up anywhere.)
Anyway, enjoy this, I hope it matches the caliber of some of the work I've seen on here. I wouldn't be a true fan-fic writer if I didn't ask for reviews…anything you can tell me would be much appreciated. Alright, enough from me.
"Clinic duty?" Wilson asked, trying to keep up with House. Jesus, for having a bum leg, he was so fast! "You hate clinic duty! Why, all of a sudden, are you actually doing this part of your job?"
"I've fallen madly in love with Cuddy and I'm trying to impress her," House answered sarcastically. "You idiot, she stole my Vidocin! She's holding it hostage in exchange for two hours of this hell out of me."
"How'd she manage that?" Wilson was fascinated. Usually Cuddy employed reason and wit to get what she wanted out of House. What she had done was positively…illegal. "You could report her to…someone," he tried. "I'm sure there must be some law forbidding this heinous act."
House shook his head. "I haven't got time. That would take months, at best. I needed that stuff back yesterday. My leg hurts like hell."
"She had it yesterday?"
"Try to keep up with the rest of the class," House requested patiently, as he flipped through some files he was holding. "It's an expression, kind of like, 'Screw you.'"
Wilson backed away, hands up a la surrender. "Okay, I can see this isn't gonna work out. But you just think about this the next time you decide not to do your job. I won't always have extra batteries for your Pacman and those little Cheez-Its you seem to like so much." He reviewed that in his mind. It sounded good. Much better than anything House had come up with today.
"Yes, you will," House countered. "No one here will eat them but me. What are you going to do with them?" House looked up. The little weasel was gone! Oh, well. He'd learn from his mistakes in his own time. Meanwhile, it was about time he got his clinic duty underway.
"Patient numero uno," he said. "Julia Peterson, age 19, room 213." House glanced up, attempting to get his bearings straight. Damn. He really hadn't been doing his job. He didn't even know his way around the clinic anymore.
"Excuse me," he said to a passing nurse. "Where's room 213?"
"That way," she told him, pointing. "The third to your left." She squinted at him. "Aren't you a doctor here?"
"Listen here, Kim," he said, reading her name tag. "It doesn't matter if I'm a doctor here. What matters is if you're a nurse here, and whether or not you plan on keeping it that way. Do you understand what I'm telling you?" She nodded slowly. "Good. Go take care of someone." She rolled her eyes and walked away.
House went to room 213 and opened the door. "Ms. Peterson?"
"That's me," she said, smiling brightly. She instantly annoyed him, seeming to be one of those happy-go-lucky types of girls that always had the glass half-full. Kind of like Cameron, except maybe this one wouldn't fall victim to his ravishing good looks and charming personality right away.
"Okay, I'm Dr. House, I'll be working with you today, and I'm already bored with this. So, what's wrong? We'll see if I can do that magic trick where I diagnose you in three words or less," he said, leaning back against the wall.
Julia Peterson didn't bat an eye, but coughed a great deal before she replied. "I've heard a lot about you, Dr. House."
"I have a fan club now? Maybe I should consider a restraining order," House commented dryly.
"Don't flatter yourself," she continued, her peppy voice and lighthearted tone now sounding forced. Her smile appeared to be glued to her face as well, like a Barbie's. "Everything I know about you is pretty unsavory, and your attitude isn't helping much."
"Obviously you must at least think I'm intelligent, if you bothered to come in here to see if I could treat you," he countered. "You're being an unfair bitch."
She grinned, her expression looking real again. "You're being a cynical asshole, so I guess we're even. Listen, before we get to the medical stuff, look at me and tell me what's wrong up here." She tapped her temple lightly.
"You're the only thing preventing me from a date with a box of crackers and some quality time with my Gameboy," he suggested.
"Mom was right," Julia observed, shaking her head. "You really are blind."
"I'm crippled, not blind," he said. "If I was, Jesus sure would have to deal out the miracles. But that's getting off the subject; religion is one of Dr. Chase's many issues. Who's Mom?"
"What, you can't tell?" she asked, sounding disappointed. "So in addition to being a cynical asshole, you're also a complete moron?"
"Cut the crap," House shot at her icily. "I'm sick of the games. Who the hell are you, and why are you wasting my time?"
"It's really cold in here," Julia said suddenly. It didn't look to him like she was messing with his head; either she was an excellent actress or those were real goosebumps on her arms. "Do you have a blanket or something?"
"You know what?" House said irritably. "I'm leaving. I'll get Wilson to deal with you."
"Does the name 'Alma' mean anything to you?" she asked, easing herself off the examination table onto the floor. Of course she would stop him if she had to. Nothing stopping her.
That stopped him dead in his tracks.
He twisted around and shut the door loudly. It made Julia jump.
House approached her quickly, getting so close to her she could smell his breath. Thank God he was an obsessive mint-chewer. "How the hell do you know Alma, and you'd better not mess with me," he said quietly, dangerously.
"She's my mother," Julia spat back at him. "I thought we had pretty much established that."
"So what do you have to do with me?" he asked.
"Try genetics," she said coolly. "And you might want to back up a little bit. I get a little defensive when people get this close to me."
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me who the fuck you are in relation to me."
"Well," Julia said slowly. House sighed and put his head in his hands. He had known this Julia Peterson for all of two minutes and already she had made him more miserable than Cuddy and Cameron put together. "This wasn't exactly the tearful reunion I was expecting to have with you…Dad."
He glanced up at her sharply. "Dad?"
Julia nodded somberly. He desperately wanted to believe she was just playing around with him again, but her wintry blue eyes told him she wasn't, in more ways that one. They did, after all, mirror his own and in them no mischief was detected. "Yeah. I'm your daughter."
House dropped his cane. Any lesser man might have fainted, or at least cried. Any stronger man would have asked her how she found him. He didn't know what to think. Surely it wasn't possible. And yet…it was very obvious it was.
"So, what do I call you?" Julia asked, smiling again, trying to make light of the bomb she had just dropped. "Daddy? Papa? Father House?"