Title: Put Out The Fire
Fandoms: House MD/CSI-NY crossover
Rating: This chapter: pretty wimpy.
From a plot-bunny inspired by Kohl-Rimmed-Eye
Summary-Snark gratia snark.
House stood by the whiteboard using his cane in place of a microphone as he addressed the multitude, or at least his captive audience of three.
“Lady and so-called gentlemen, for your diagnostic pleasure, in his long awaited return to the ICU, let’s give a big PPTH welcome to Harvey Park!”
The team refused to play along. Cameron look stunned, Foreman glowered suspiciously and Chase was feigning indifference.
House returned the cane to its usual position and leaned on it heavily.
“You call that a welcome? Come on people. If Harvey hears that deafening silence, he’s gonna walk out on us. Or he would, if he could hear anything or walk anywhere.”
“Harvey Park?” Foreman repeated. The guy with the infected jaw and the interesting social life?”
“What did his dominatrix friend do to him now?”
“Whatever’s wrong with Harvey this time, I think we can eliminate Annette as the cause.”
“Why?” Cameron wanted to know, having finally found her voice. She seemed unhappy with the reappearance of Harvey Park. House and Cameron’s date of doom had occurred while they were treating Harvey, but it hardly seemed fair to blame him. House wasn’t proud of his behavior, but it had been the right thing to do. Cameron was displaying symptoms of growing a spine, which would never have happened if he hadn’t shattered any illusions she might have had about him or herself.
House resumed his role as Master of Ceremonies.
“Dr. Cameron wants to know why we can rule out Annette Raines and her vast array of cunning stunts. Take it away, Dr. Chase.”
He knew that Huey, Dewey and Louie went out of their way not to laugh at his witticisms. Maybe they considered it a form of rebellion against being at the beck and call of a madman. This time House detected a twinkle and a barely suppressed grin on the face of young Dr. Chase.
“Annette Raines was found murdered three days ago,” Chase picked up the tale as directed. “She and Harvey were living in Manhattan. The police found Harvey’s medical file in the apartment. When they told Harvey about the murder and tried to get any information out of him, he told them to call Dr. House. Then he went catatonic and passed out. Hasn’t said anything since.”
“Coma?” asked Cameron.
Chase shook his head.
“He’s breathing on his own, but that’s about it.”
The light was dawning on Foreman.
“That’s why that cop wanted to find you.”
“Yeah. And you three geniuses led him right to me.” Cameron was clearly about to protest her innocence. House waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. I had fun with Joe Friday, Junior. Maybe he’s up for another round. Chase, is Detective Scruffy down there with the patient?”
“No. The other one. Detective Monroe,” Chase replied, not bothering to comment on the hypocrisy of House calling anyone else scruffy.
“Does this one know how to shave?”
“I dunno. This one’s a woman.”
This time, House was positive about Chase twinkling, but he didn’t know if Chase was happy about knowing something House didn’t or about the fact of the lady cop."
“So, more like Cagney or more like Lacey?”
Chase stared in confusion. Either he was too young or too Australian.
“OK, people. Let’s go?”
“Where?” asked Foreman, perplexed.
“Down to see the patient, of course. Gotta say ‘Hi Harvey, how’s tricks? Still getting off on pain and humiliation? I thought so.’"
“But he’s catatonic,” Cameron pointed out. “He can’t tell us anything.”
“Well then he can’t lie to us, can he?” The three blind mice were staring at him as though he’d just stepped of a space ship and said 'Klaatu Barata Nikto' “Maybe I just want to meet a chick with a gun and handcuffs.” House planted the cane and took a firm step forward. “Come on kids. It’s show time.”
On the way to the elevator, Wilson joined them for no apparent reason.
House led his merry band to Harvey’s room in ICU, where they found Harvey still not talking. He was being watched by a blonde woman. Her posture in the chair reflected boredom and fatigue. She snapped to attention at the sound of House’s cane and turned around to face the group.
Young and pretty, House thought. A little too all-American-girl for his jaded tastes, but certainly worth taking a look at.
He stared at her with a goofy, open-mouthed gape of pseudo-lust, deliberately holding it long enough to annoy Cameron, Chase and maybe even Wilson, although not the subject of the gaze, who appeared to take it stride.
“Wow. I was wrong. It’s not Cagney or Lacey. It’s Pepper Anderson.”
The blonde nodded, but didn’t get offended or flustered. She’d heard it before.
“You must be Dr. House.”
“I’m much taller in person. Everybody says it.”
“And that’s Dr. Foreman and Dr. Cameron. I’ve already met Dr. Chase. And that’s…?”
Wilson charged forward to introduce himself. That figured. Just his type. Female and breathing.
“I’m Dr. Wilson. I run the oncology department.”
“You think he has cancer?” she asked, clearly skeptical.
“Gotta check every possibility,” House assured her, before dispatching the team on various errands including more blood work, reflex tests and scheduling a CAT Scan.
He kept one eye on Pepper, noting how smoothly she managed to stay out of the way, while observing the hubbub of activity that had broken out around her. He approved, but that didn’t mean she was avoiding a full-scale House-party either.
“So, Detective, what happened? Your bully boys get over-enthusiastic with their nightsticks? Taser? Brass knuckles?”
She ignored him with a barely perceptible tightening of the jaw.
“Do you think you can get him talking?”
“I can get him better. Whether he wants to talk to you is his business.”
House noticed that Pepper was smiling past him, practically twinkling. Probably at Wilson, he thought with a mixture of pride and mild envy.
At that moment, Foreman returned with Wilson right behind him.
“OK, we’ve got the CAT scan scheduled. Let’s get him up to C.T.”
Wilson gave House a nod as if to say “nothing more I can do here.” although House wasn’t sure if he was giving up on Harvey Park or Policewoman.
If she hadn’t been twinkling at Wilson, then who was the lucky recipient?
Foreman and Chase were getting Harvey’s bed ready to move and Detective Whatsername seemed awfully interested. As they wheeled Harvey out the room, House caught Chase stealing a parting glance at Police Woman, complete with a shy adolescent smile.
House felt a malicious grin creeping across his face. Pepper and Chase. Blonde and Blonder. The possibilities for amusement spread out before him like the buffet at a Jewish wedding.
Police Woman took a step to leave. House put down the cane to block her.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced.
“He’s not waking up during a CT scan.”
“Is he waking up at all?” she challenged.
“Fifty bucks says he’s talking in twenty-four hours.”
“You’re betting on a patient’s recovery?”
House relished the outrage in her eyes. She was even flaring her nostrils in indignation. Awesome. He shoots. He scores.
“I know about you.”
“From your partner or my foot soldier with the funny accent?”
“Either way. I know you’re supposed to be brilliant, but you have the social skills of a baboon.”
“And what do you think, Pepper?”
“Are you going to let me go to CT?”
House moved aside with a great show of deference.
“I think you’re going to start calling me Detective Monroe.” She walked to door, before turning around, with a smile. “And I think it’s going to more than twenty-four hours for you to re-run all the tests they did at Bellevue, because you think that doctors other than yourself are idiots. So I’ll take your bet.”
House watched her leave. Feisty He liked that. He reached for the Vicodin in his pocket, more out of habit than need. This was turning out to be a good day. He now had the challenge of getting Harvey talking in twenty-four hours, so he could win the bet and the opportunity to torture Chase and Detective Monroe about their attraction to eachother, especially if they weren’t completely aware of it yet.
He stared at the Vicodin and finally decided to take it so that one of his babies wouldn’t feel rejected.
They’d make a cute couple, he thought vaguely. At least their numbers would match up. And they did seem to have chemistry.
Chemistry That was it. The heck with Chase’s love life. He needed to order some more labs on Harvey. Chemistry would answer everything.