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instant karma's gonna get you (part 2)
Title: instant karma's gonna get you (part 2)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
phinnia
Pairing: House/Thirteen; Wilson/Volakis (ctb); House/Wilson friendship
Spoilers: 4-10 "It's a Wonderful Lie", 4-12 "Don't Ever Change."
Rating: PG still.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Still broke. Don't sue.
Notes: part two, in which there are deliveries and the world's most obnoxious heavy metal album. I guess one of the good things about staying up waiting for your sick kid to be sick (or not, and this time it was finally, blissfully not) is that you Get Shit Done.
She was alone in diagnostics when the package came. Taub had left (something about guilt presents and his wife) and Kutner was trolling the nurses in Radiology with his little-lost-boy looks. House had come stomping through about an hour ago in one of his black moods and barricaded himself in his office with the world's loudest, most obnoxious heavy metal album cranked as high as his iPod speakers would allow without melting.
She was reading when the delivery guy knocked. He had an armful of packages, including some that looked like flowers. Poor guy looked particularly harried, which wasn't surprising, considering what day it was. She felt vaguely sorry for him.
"I think you've got the wrong place." she offered. "Oncology's next door." She'd heard about Wilson and Amber - who hadn't - and assumed her old rival had decided to splurge as a means of rubbing it in House's face. It would be like her.
"This is Diagnostics, right?"
"Um, yeah." Something for Kutner, maybe? Huh. Weird.
"Lookin' for a ... Remy Hadley?"
What? "Uh, that's me."
"Sign here."
She scribbled a signature on the electronic pad and took the box from him. He continued down the hall with his stack of packages, and she was alone again.
Maybe her father had sent something? It wasn't really like him to go all out like this, but maybe it was a new-job present that came a bit late? This made no sense. She tore the top off the folded cone of paper and inhaled deeply.
Roses?
Miniature tea roses. Her grandmother had had tea roses in the backyard - Peace roses, heavy-headed flowers the colour of buttercream. These were peach-orange and a small stuffed tabby kitten was nestled between the stems. There was also a card - simple gold embossing but heavy paper, nothing cheap or flimsy - with an address written on it, someplace on Market, and a time. Seven thirty. Dress was apparently casual-but-nice, according to the mysterious card.
How odd. She turned the card over in her hands thoughtfully, enjoying the delicate fragrance of roses.
The door to House's office rattled, then opened.slowly. She looked up, raising one eyebrow.
He looked a little more haggard than usual, but she passed it off as pain or stress or the leavings of whatever had pissed him off so much - clinic duty? administrative bullshit? fight with Wilson? she'd heard shouting from Oncology a while back, so that was probably it. Her lips quirked into a bare smile by way of greeting, and she went back to studying the card.
He nodded at her and palmed a Vicodin, popping it into his mouth. "The mysterious Thirteen has an even more mysterious admirer."
"Looks like it."
"Probably a stalker. Some creepy weirdo with a panel van and a thing for redheads. I wouldn't go if I were you." He nodded sagely, satisfied that his diagnostic skill applied in all situations, and left the office in a swirl of iPod headphones and leftover bad mood.
Thirteen sat at the conference table, tapping her fingers in a soft staccato and staring at the card as though she expected it to suddenly reveal secrets.
After ten minutes, she gathered her things and left the room.
Author:
phinniaPairing: House/Thirteen; Wilson/Volakis (ctb); House/Wilson friendship
Spoilers: 4-10 "It's a Wonderful Lie", 4-12 "Don't Ever Change."
Rating: PG still.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Still broke. Don't sue.
Notes: part two, in which there are deliveries and the world's most obnoxious heavy metal album. I guess one of the good things about staying up waiting for your sick kid to be sick (or not, and this time it was finally, blissfully not) is that you Get Shit Done.
She was alone in diagnostics when the package came. Taub had left (something about guilt presents and his wife) and Kutner was trolling the nurses in Radiology with his little-lost-boy looks. House had come stomping through about an hour ago in one of his black moods and barricaded himself in his office with the world's loudest, most obnoxious heavy metal album cranked as high as his iPod speakers would allow without melting.
She was reading when the delivery guy knocked. He had an armful of packages, including some that looked like flowers. Poor guy looked particularly harried, which wasn't surprising, considering what day it was. She felt vaguely sorry for him.
"I think you've got the wrong place." she offered. "Oncology's next door." She'd heard about Wilson and Amber - who hadn't - and assumed her old rival had decided to splurge as a means of rubbing it in House's face. It would be like her.
"This is Diagnostics, right?"
"Um, yeah." Something for Kutner, maybe? Huh. Weird.
"Lookin' for a ... Remy Hadley?"
What? "Uh, that's me."
"Sign here."
She scribbled a signature on the electronic pad and took the box from him. He continued down the hall with his stack of packages, and she was alone again.
Maybe her father had sent something? It wasn't really like him to go all out like this, but maybe it was a new-job present that came a bit late? This made no sense. She tore the top off the folded cone of paper and inhaled deeply.
Roses?
Miniature tea roses. Her grandmother had had tea roses in the backyard - Peace roses, heavy-headed flowers the colour of buttercream. These were peach-orange and a small stuffed tabby kitten was nestled between the stems. There was also a card - simple gold embossing but heavy paper, nothing cheap or flimsy - with an address written on it, someplace on Market, and a time. Seven thirty. Dress was apparently casual-but-nice, according to the mysterious card.
How odd. She turned the card over in her hands thoughtfully, enjoying the delicate fragrance of roses.
The door to House's office rattled, then opened.slowly. She looked up, raising one eyebrow.
He looked a little more haggard than usual, but she passed it off as pain or stress or the leavings of whatever had pissed him off so much - clinic duty? administrative bullshit? fight with Wilson? she'd heard shouting from Oncology a while back, so that was probably it. Her lips quirked into a bare smile by way of greeting, and she went back to studying the card.
He nodded at her and palmed a Vicodin, popping it into his mouth. "The mysterious Thirteen has an even more mysterious admirer."
"Looks like it."
"Probably a stalker. Some creepy weirdo with a panel van and a thing for redheads. I wouldn't go if I were you." He nodded sagely, satisfied that his diagnostic skill applied in all situations, and left the office in a swirl of iPod headphones and leftover bad mood.
Thirteen sat at the conference table, tapping her fingers in a soft staccato and staring at the card as though she expected it to suddenly reveal secrets.
After ten minutes, she gathered her things and left the room.
no subject
Glad the kid didn't get sick. That's what I hate the most about being a mom.
no subject
Kid seems to be on the mend, at least. Here's hoping he stays that way. *sigh*