this is a small oneshot I wrote because I had this scenario stuck in my head, hope you enjoy!
“You look through every text book we’ve got and you find me the diseases that cause these symptoms ASAP.” House states with seething boredom as his cane smacks the whiteboard beside him with words scribbled on it to a point where the lines were barely legible.
“You find me everything common, uncommon and everything that has the same probability of,” he pauses in thought before quickly coming back to his team.
“Cuddy walking in here and telling me about my balls.” House states proudly as if he had stated something that has zero chance of occurring ever. His team who sat, disgusted, looked away from their mentor who stood like he just conquered Rome before his ego quickly deflated by the sound of the door opening.
In stepped Lisa Cuddy, her curly brown hair was tied back in a ponytail, loose strands draping down the sides of her face.
“House, your ball.” She states angrily, throwing the large red tennis ball into the man's chest. He catches it with his free hand before scoffing and looking around at his team before locking eyes with Cuddy once more.
“I can assure you I have two-“
“It was in my office. Why were you in my office?” Her words became exasperated and full of pure defeat, dripping from her white teeth with a searing hint of annoyance.
“I was looking at a patient's file.” House states plainly, knowing full well how many confidential codes he broke as well as the fact that he was lying. He was scrolling through her search history on her private computer and recently bought items that put more money in Daddy Bezos’ pockets.
“Why weren’t you in your office?” House asks cockily, an eyebrow raised in full arrogance. His team's eyes move from their superior to the woman in the room. She was also their superior, though they had a little more fear and knowledge of House than her.
Cuddy scoffs and looks at the ceiling before her eyes land back on the man as she folds her arms in front of her, jutting her hip in a feeble attempt to seem cool and unfazed that House had a demand to know her plans for the morning which lead to her tardiness.
“I had a meeting to attend,” lie, her calendar was free, not even a gyno appointment booked. “And it doesn’t concern you. You have clinic duty, 1,478 hours worth, to be in fact. Get to it.” She states before walking out of the room faster than House could retort a snarky comment.
“Okay, get me a disease that has a probability of me actually going to the clinic today.” He smiles a shit eating grin at his swarm of ducklings before limping his way to his desk, presumably to call a doctor who hadn’t met him and beg them to take over his clinic duty as his leg was “agitating” him though it was sheer laziness that made House grimace at the thought of dealing with sniffly noses and paracetamol prescriptions, not his leg.