Summary: FCC (Foreman, Chase, Cameron) discuss the boss. Obviously this takes place some time before House Vs. God.
Notes: This was originally the first part of a three-part H/W angstfic that I've decided to shelve for the time being. Unbeta-ed, the suckiness is all mine.
Spoilers: Vague for season 2.
Disclaimer-If Bryan, David et al sue me, do I get to meet them in court?
Spring had come to Southern New Jersey.
After a brutal winter that had kept Princeton shivering with wind chill long past St. Patrick’s Day, there finally appeared blue skies, chirping birds and temperatures in the 60’s.
For Greg House, the change meant more opportunities to ride his motorcycle and fewer colds among his unwanted clinic patients. For his staff, it brought a brightening of House’s mood, if only compared to the excessive barking and brooding that had marked the season of Stacy and its aftermath.
The balmy weather also offered the opportunity to eat lunch outdoors and gossip together away from the bat-like hearing of their lord and master.
“You’ve got to admit, he seems happier lately,” said Cameron, sipping a diet coke.
“And you know this how, exactly?” inquired Foreman.
“No, she’s right,” agreed Chase, dipping a carrot stick into a container of ranch dressing. “He’s practically chipper.”
Foreman’s skepticism was evident.
“OK,” Chase relented. “Let’s say he’s less angry, less bitter, less totally obnoxious. “ Chase licked the dressing off. “When was the last time he made a racial comment to you? And he hasn’t had a shouting match with Cuddy in days.”
“It’s the weather,” said Cameron dreamily. “Spring fever.”
“No,” Chase dipped the carrot in dressing again. “It’s Wilson.”
“Wilson?” said Foreman, feeling increasingly like the straight man in a three way comedy routine.
“You know how they are together,” Cameron agreed, somewhat wistfully. ”House has his frat buddy on call 24/7.”
“Plus he gets to give Wilson the big ‘I told you so’ about his marriage.” Chase pointed out dipping the carrot yet again. “And you know ‘I told you so’ is his favorite thing to say.”
“Except for ‘everybody lies’.” Foreman tried to get in his own punch line. “You know, after all this time, I still don’t know how he gets away with so much.”
“He’s always right,” offered Cameron.
“He’s almost always right,” Chase corrected her. “But that’s not it. I think it’s just that the worst has already happened to him. He’s got nothing left to lose. Even Vogler couldn’t do anything as bad as the leg. That’s why House didn’t have to cave, even when some of us did,” he finished softly, finally biting into the carrot, which reminded him that he liked ranch dressing a lot better than carrots.
Cameron stood up and stretched her arms to the sun and yawned. “He can still give us hell for being late back from lunch. We should go.”
“We don’t even have a case,” Chase protested.
“He’ll probably give us hell for that too,” said Foreman, getting up as well.
Foreman, Chase and Cameron took a last minute to enjoy the sun before heading back to the time-filling tedium of waiting for House to take a case. They never noticed that he had been sitting two tables away in his sunglasses and Monster Truck cap, listening to them the whole time.