8I never intended to write a House fic, but this random little idea has been bugging me for awhile. So I had to write it... and look, here it is.
Note: I actually know nothing about medical stuff or pneumonia... everything is from WebMD.
There were two things in life that Robert absolutely hated: being called Bobby, and wearing suits.
At the moment, he was doing the latter. He allowed his father to lead, or rather drag him by the hand through the crowd of well dressed men and women towards his personal preferred destination – the food.
"Here you go, Robert," his father said impatiently, "Here's the food. Help yourself, and meet me outside at midnight." Before Robert could even open his mouth, his father had disappeared back into the crowd of identical penguin-like adults.
The teenager brushed a lock of long blond hair out of his eyes, and decided to help himself to the chips. After acquiring his snack he settled into the corner, unnoticed by any of the so-called important people milling about the room.
He didn't quite understand why his father had dragged him along to the medical conference party. He didn't mind going to the ones back at home in Melbourne, because though he didn't appreciate being shoved towards the medical profession he enjoyed the food the interesting people he always managed to weed out. But he did mind the twenty-four hour plane ride that had brought him to this conference in New York City, America, a foreign country that was just so damn… foreign.
To put this jumble of thoughts simply, Robert wasn't enjoying himself.
"Hey, what're you doing down there all alone?"
Robert looked up from his chips. Through the bangs covering his eyes, he saw a pretty girl in a red dress looking down at him.
A pretty girl looking at him. That was new. He was momentarily at a loss.
"Quiet type, huh?" The girl placed a hand on her hip. "C'mon, don't tell me you're the kind of guy who still thinks girls have cooties."
Robert quickly found it in himself to protest. "No, no!" Having expressed his rebuttal, he again found himself at a loss, but realized he ought to keep speaking. "I, um… girls just don't pay that much attention to me at home," he mumbled awkwardly.
The girl in the scarlet red dress laughed brightly. "I find that hard to believe. Handsome boy like you – and with an accent!" She knelt down next to him, and he felt the fringes of the dress brush up against his pant leg. Grinning, she whispered in his ear, "I think British accents are hot."
Robert blushed vividly. "I'm… I'm Australian."
The girl drew back and gave him a funny look. "Don't you know anything about flirting?" she demanded. "Now you compliment me."
Robert's blush deepened. "I… like your dress," he tried pathetically. "It's very… red?"
The girl rolled her eyes. "You're too hot to be so stupid," she mused. "Tell you what, hang out with me for the night and I'll show you how it's done."
Robert had no idea what that meant, and wasn't sure he wanted to. All he knew was that he had nothing better to do and though he somehow couldn't vocalize it, the girl was damn sexy.
"O-okay."
"Awesome." The girl stood up, and pulled Robert up with her. "I'm Allison, by the way. But you can call me Allie." She winked. "And you are?"
"R-robert."
"Nice to meet you, Robert." She reached out and snatched his hand. "C'mon, let's go."
"Go where?" But Robert's words were lost in the crowd as Allie pulled him away.
They pushed their way out of the conference room and into the fancily furnished hall. Paintings of dignified-looking people lined with gold trim adorned the pale green and pink walls lit by crystal chandeliers, but Allie didn't seem concerned with any of it as she dragged him down the corridor and past the bathrooms.
She pushed open an unmarked door, and the two of them stumbled into an emergency exit stairwell.
"Where are we?" Robert wondered aloud, leaning backwards against the unpainted gray concrete wall.
Somehow, Allie managed to herd him into the corner. "So tell me, Bobby," she crooned, "How old are you?"
Robert swallowed nervously. "I… don't like being called Bobby."
Allie exhaled through her nose. "You're incorrigible."
"…Incorrigible?"
Allie ignored him. "So, Robert," she retried, approaching him dangerously, "How old are you?"
"Thirteen…"
"Really?" Allie looked genuinely surprised. She twirled a strand of deep chocolate brown hair in her fingers. "You look two years older… must be the accent."
Robert didn't know how to reply.
She rolled her cerulean eyes. "It's supposed to go like this: You look two years older, must be the accent. 'Aww, thanks, mate! And how old are you?'"
She did an awful Australian accent, Robert noted, but decided not to point it out. As an upgraded response, "We don't always say mate, you know."
She glared at him and tipped her head, as if to say, really? Are you that dumb?
Robert gulped, and got the message. "Aww… thanks mate?" she waved her hand impatiently to encourage him on. "How old are you, Allie?"
She grinned adorably. Or wolfishly. "That's better. I'm fourteen."
Robert glanced around nervously at the concrete stairwell. "Umm, Allie… what are we doing here?"
Wrong move. Or right move, Robert didn't know, as Allie moved in on him and pushed him against the wall. "What do you think, Robby?"
Robert knew he hated Bobby, but had never considered Robby. However, he didn't have a chance to respond – the echo of footsteps below them interrupted the conversation.
The two teenagers listened silently for a moment. Voices soon joined the footsteps, and the sound of a truck pulling up outside the door two floors below.
"Let's go back," Robert whispered.
Allie grabbed his hand again. "I've got a better idea." Robert gave a squawk of protest, but didn't tear his hand from hers as she took off down the stairs.
Her high heels – god only knew how she was walking in them – clacked loudly off the concrete, her crimson dress trailing behind her and nearly tripping Robert as they ran. Two floors down they ran right into a group of workers hauling boxes in through the back door. Upon seeing them from up a flight, Robert tried to whirl around, but the daring Allison was undeterred. The two teenagers ran right through the workers, nearly tripping a pair with a heavy box, and continued running down the stairs.
Two flights after that, Robert finally managed to twist away from his captor. He let his hands fall to his knees, and stood there panting for a moment before demanding, "What the bloody hell was that?"
Allie giggled. "You're cute when you say 'bloody hell'."
Robert was indignant. "Did you see the looks they gave us? They'll probably… I don't know, report us!"
Allie raised an elegant eyebrow. "Report us? To whom?"
"I – don't know." Robert huffed in defeat.
Allie laughed at his resignation. "Well, since we're already on an adventure, why not have more fun?"
"Oh, no, you're not dragging me anywhere anymore –"
"Wonder what's outside that door," she remarked, ignoring her companion and already moving towards the metallic door.
Robert's sea blue eyes widened in horror. "Allie, you'll set off the fire alarm!"
"No I won't, you chicken." She rested a palm on the push-open handle, and sent a smirk in his direction.
"Allie, stop!"
"Aww c'mon, Robby, don't you want to see what's outside?"
"Not really –"
But it was too late. Allie had already thrust open the door and was setting foot into the back alley outside.
Robert felt a cold blast of air hit him, but it wasn't quite unpleasantly cold. For reasons he didn't understand, he chose to follow her out instead of running for his life.
"Allie… where are we now?"
She shrugged, her hair blowing slightly in the wind. "Dunno. But it's cooler than that dull party, huh?" She ran over to the dumpster and pulled herself up on top. "C'mon up, Robby."
Robert wordlessly obeyed. She giggled at this. "You're so cute."
With a lopsided smile, Robert gave the most natural answer, "So are you."
Allie's triumphant grin spread from ear to ear, and her eyes danced with amusement at his lack of complete failure. " You're getting better, Robby. Must be from hanging around me." She pulled him up onto the dumpster. "So, what brings you here from Australia?"
"My dad…" Robert trailed off. "Do you hear something?"
Allie frowned. "No…"
"Listen."
Allie strained her ears, and found that her dear Australian tagalong was correct – there was a conversation going on around the corner of the alley.
"… door's usually unlocked," mumbled a deep male voice.
"You think I can get in here?" questioned another.
"Yeah. Once you're in, it ain't hard to find. Grab what you need and go."
"I won't be noticed?"
"Nah, there's a rich ass doctor party goin' on upstairs. They won't notice a thing."
Robert nudged Allie. "I think they're gonna steal something," he whispered.
Allie's cerulean eyes glinted. "We'll stop them."
"Allie! This isn't a movie!"
"I know, Robby. But you should know, I kick ass."
"Allie –" Robert was cut off as one of the speakers came around the corner.
He was a burly young man wearing a black knit cap, a black sweater and dark jeans, as though he was trying to fit the profile of stereotypical burglar. His inky outfit and dark brown skin blended into the night, and Robert could barely make him out until he stepped into the faint light cast by the door they had left open.
He didn't notice the two children behind him on the dumpster.
"On the count of one," Allie whispered.
"One?"
"One!" Allie leapt off the dumpster, ran right at the burglar and jumped on his back.
For a moment the burglar was stunned, and then his instincts kicked in, and he easily flung the girl off his back. But he was stunned all over again when he turned and saw that his attacker was a young girl in a scarlet party dress – a pretty young girl in a scarlet party dress – who was now sprawled out on the ground.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, glaring down at her.
"You're a robber!" she accused, glaring back defiantly.
He rolled his dark eyes. "Whatever. Here." He extended a hand to help her up.
Allie was confused. "What –"
"Stay away from her!" Robert emerged from the shadows wielding a piece of metal he'd found in the dumpster. He ran to Allie's side, and placed himself between her and the thief's extended hand.
The burglar looked at him funny. He really was nothing to be afraid of, even with the sharp piece of metal in his hand. With the expensive suit hugging his body and shaggy blond hair falling into his eyes, he looked like nothing more than a spoiled pretty boy with a butter knife.
"Whatever, kid," he drawled. "I don't want to hurt either of you, I just need to get something. You two just go back to your fancy party and pretend this never happened, kay?"
"Never!" Allie declared.
Robert wavered. "Allie… maybe we should go…"
"No! He might be lying!" Allie belatedly picked herself up off the ground and dusted off her soot stained dress. "I'm not gonna let him hurt anyone!"
The thief turned his you're a weirdo look to the girl. "Even if I wanted to hurt anyone – which I don't – you couldn't stop me."
"Wanna bet?" Without even looking at the boy standing next to her, Allie snatched the pointed metal from his hands.
The burglar wasn't afraid of a sexy girl with a crude weapon any more than the pretty boy, but the difference was that the girl might do something stupid with it. He took a step backwards. "Hey, watch it –"
"No! I'll stop you!"
Allie recklessly charged at the thief, metal weapon in hand. Startled that she was actually acting, the burglar pulled a knife from his pocked and held it up to block. Robert screamed and covered his eyes. But before the two clashed, someone stepped between them.
Robert slowly opened his eyes, and saw a man standing between the thief and Allie. Where the bloody hell did he come from?
Allie skidded to a stop, nearly tripping over her dress. The thief lowered his knife, trying to hide his surprise behind a mask of calm and cool.
The man who had stepped between them looked from the black-clad thief to the formally dressed teenager. "And what," he deadpanned, "Is going on here?"
Allie's heart skipped a beat, but she was the first to respond. "He was trying to rob the party!" she accused, glaring through the peacekeeper at the thief.
"She… attacked me," the burglar defended lamely.
"So who's that kid?" the man jerked a finger over his shoulder at Robert.
Robert gulped, uncomfortable with having been noticed. "I'm just… uh, Allie's mate…"
"Ooh, a British kid," the man observed. "A British kid with less guts than his insane girlfriend, and a thief stupid enough to stop and talk to them. This looks interesting."
"Who are you?" Allie demanded.
The man shrugged. "Me? No one special. Just the doctor on staff tonight in the first aid room." His ice blue eyes surveyed the three of them, and Robert couldn't help but feel like a six year old caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "You three, however, are a lot more interesting."
The thief rolled his eyes. "I don't know what the hell you want, but I don't feel like sticking around to find out. You can deal with these kids." He turned to leave, but the blue-eyed man reached out and grabbed his arm.
"I can show you the way to the medical room, if you want."
The thief froze. "What…"
"It's obvious, really," the man drawled. "You didn't hurt these dear sweet kids, even though you obviously could have. You also probably could have taken the three of us; you're the only one with a real weapon, after all."
"Hey!"
Allie's protest was ignored. "You don't seem like the kind of guy who'd steal for thrills, like most of your gangsta friends from the 'hood. I assume you'd only steal something you needed, and since you tensed when I mentioned I was the doctor on staff tonight, I assumed it was medical. You probably have a sick family member and can't afford medication."
"How…"
"No offense, but you suck at the gangster-robber act. You probably don't even do drugs. And the stunned look on your face totally gives you away."
Allie and Robert exchanged dumbfounded looks.
"Well c'mon, you want to go to the first aid room or not?" the thief nodded dumbly. "You kiddies can come too," the man added, inclining his head to Allie and Robert.
To stunned to say otherwise, the two children and the burglar followed. The man lead them up a flight of stairs, through a door and a dark corridor, up another flight and into a white, clean-smelling room with medical supplies organized into neat stacks underneath the cabinets stretching around the walls. Allie quickly sat herself down on the examination table, allowing her legs to dangle almost to the ground, and Robert sat down on the chair in the corner of the room
In the better light, Robert had a better chance to observe the strange man. He was older, but not that old, probably in his mid-to-late twenties. His face was unshaven, his hair spread around his forehead in not-quite-long strands of thin brown hair, and his ice-blue eyes stood out vividly even in the bright white room. His unbuttoned hoodie hung loosely from his shoulders, and visible beneath it was a plain dark green t-shirt. Ragged but clean jeans completed the outfit that gave him the appearance of everything but a doctor. He had an odd, almost mystical quality about him, Robert noted.
"So, kid," the man addressed the would-be thief, "What's up in your family?"
The thief leaned uncomfortably against the wall. "It's… my sister. She has pneumonia."
"Hmm, I think we might actually have some tetracyclines." The blue-eyed doctor opened a cabinet and sifted through it. After a long minute, he pulled out a small capsule filled with tiny pills. "Ah, here we go."
Robert frowned. "That looks like someone else's prescription."
The man graced him with a mocking grin. "So it is! But don't worry, I don't think that Mr."– he peered at the labeled capsule for the name – "Traverson will care. Or if he does, it isn't my problem."
The thief reached out for the small bottle, but the man jerked it away from him and focused his attention on Robert. "So, what's your name, Brit boy?"
"I'm Australian."
The man tossed the capsule from hand to hand idly. "Rowan Chase's kid, huh?
Robert made a face. "Yeah."
"Interesting…" the man transferred the capsule into his left hand, away from the thief, as he turned to him. "So, Mr. Gangster. Your name?"
"You didn't get his name –"
"Robert Chase."
Robert blinked. "Umm, how do you know my name?"
The man ignored him. "So, Gangster. Your name?"
The burglar was obviously weirded out, but gave his name anyways. "Ricky. Ricky Foreman."
"So, Ricky Foreman. How old are you?"
"Seventeen…"
"And what do you think of my prescription of tetracyclines for your sister?"
"…Huh?"
"Tetracyclines. What do you think?"
Ricky shrugged, and hesitated before answering clearly, "They're fine, I guess, but doxycycline isn't effective against Streptococcus pneumoniae, the bacteria that causes most pneumonia. I'd prefer to give her macrolides."
Robert and Allie gaped at him.
"I knew it. You seem like the doctor type." The man finally handed Ricky the capsule as a reward. "By the way, I lied. These are actually macrolides."
"You…what?"
"So, Ricky," the man continued, swinging himself up onto the counter, "Planning on going to med school?"
The would-be thief – who was somehow actually a medical student – slumped down to sit on the floor. "Maybe. If I get a scholarship. I'd be the first from my family to go to college at all, let alone med school after..."
The blue-eyed man took this in as though it were just another daily fact of life, and then turned impassively to Allie. "You've been awfully quiet. What's your name?"
Her eyes lit up as she acknowledged him. "Allison," she declared boldly. "But some people call me Allie."
"Allison Cameron?" the doctor inquired.
"Woah, man, you've gotta stop that," Ricky interrupted. "You obviously don't know these kids, so it's kinda creepy you know their names."
"I actually have to agree," Robert admitted. "How the bloody hell do you know who we are?"
Allie didn't respond. Her eyes were focused on her feet, and her face was red.
The man rolled his icy blue eyes. "You people are morons. If you don't want me to know something, you shouldn't be so obvious with your facial expressions." He turned to Robert and Ricky and shamelessly explained, "Dear little Allie isn't supposed to be here. Her mom is the caterer, and she's supposed to be in the kitchen helping. She's not a rich doctor's daughter after all."
Allie didn't respond.
"And how do I know who you are? It's obvious," he drawled stoically. "First you, Brit boy. How many British people are here, anyways? Just Dr. Rowan Chase. So that kind of narrowed it down."
"I'm Australian…"
"And you, Allie? You seem insecure. You hide it behind your supposed boldness, but you can't hide from me. You just aren't the rich kid type." He paused. "Also, when I was stealing cake out of the kitchen earlier, I heard Mrs. Cameron mention that her daughter had run off somewhere. It wasn't hard to connect the dots."
"You didn't know my name," Ricky pointed out triumphantly.
"But I figured out everything else about you," the man countered.
Ricky glared at him, defeated. The man smirked.
"Anyways, you three kiddies might want to get going before someone comes," the strange man advised. "I trust you with the dosage, Ricky, unless you want me to write it down –"
"No, I got it," Ricky insisted, still holding his glare.
"Right. So you three had better go." The three stared at him. "Go," he reiterated. "As in, get up off your asses and walk out the door, before –"
"Dr. House!" A young man wearing a lab coat and carrying a clipboard appeared in the door. He stared at the three teenagers, who all stared back at him uncertainly. "House, what's going on here?"
The strange doctor groaned. "I told you three to leave…"
"House, answer me."
The blue-eyed man sighed. "Gangster, Brit boy and Allie, meet Jimmy. Jimmy, meet Gangster, Brit boy and Allie."
Whining and protests erupted across the room.
"Hey, I told you not to call me Jimmy –"
"Actually, I'm Australian –"
"Dude, I'm not a gangster –"
"And why don't I get a nickname?"
Allie pouted louder than everyone else, so it was her who House addressed. "You want one? Okay, let's brainstorm. I vote for Sexy Kitchen Kid."
Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Don't insult her," Robert snapped, glowering up at House.
"It's okay, Robby." Allison grinned wolfishly. "I like it."
"Okay, House, so you've got a random group of kids in the first aid room," Jimmy observed irritably. "Want to tell me why?"
House pretended to consider it. "Not really."
Jimmy resisted the urge to throw his clipboard at him. "Oh, and please don't call me Jimmy."
"Okay, Jimmy."
"You're as incorrigible as Robert," Allie piped up.
Everyone looked at her funny. "Incorrigible?"
Allie blushed. "What?"
Jimmy – no, James – exhaled loudly. "Look, House. I don't know what's going on here, but I advise you get these kids out before someone notices."
"Someone like… Cuddy?" House asked innocently.
"Yes, someone like Cuddy!" James snapped.
House sighed melodramatically. "Oh, alright then. You can run along, children." None of the three moved. "I mean it for real this time."
The three of them stood up as one. Ricky was the first to move, stepping towards the door. Upon realizing that movement was possible, the other two followed.
"Hey, Sexy Kitchen Kid," House called after them. All three paused in response to Allie's nickname. "Ever considered ditching the cooking business and becoming a doctor?"
Allie tilted her head. "No… not really…"
"Well, start considering it." When the three of them continued to stare at him in confusion, he waved them off impatiently. "You can go away now."
When they were gone, James set his clipboard down on the examination table and pulled himself up beside House on the counter. "Now… what the hell was all that?"
House gazed thoughtfully at the now-empty doorway. "I dunno. Something cool, I think…"
Robert learned how to flirt that night. He decided he'd give it a shot when he got back to Australia, and see if he could get the girls to pay attention to him. It worked.
Allie found her place in the world that night. She'd never considered becoming a doctor, but ever since that mysteriously cool guy had suggested it, it tugged at the back of her mind. She started doing some research, and without realizing it, set her heart on the profession of saving lives.
Ricky brought home the cure for his sister that night. She was better within the next week. One year later, when he applied to college, he found himself offered a large scholarship from Johns Hopkins. He was a bit confused, but thanked heaven and took it.
James realized something was up that night, but he wasn't really sure what it was. He just attributed it to House and his House-ness, and like the other three, moved on with his life. Robert, Allie, Ricky and James went on with life as usual, and soon that night faded into a distant memory.
Gregory House never forgot that night. Fifteen years later, he still remembered.
But that's another story.
xx
In case you missed it or it wasn't clear, here are the ages:
Chase: 13
Cameron: 14
Foreman: 17
Wilson: 25-ish
House: 27-ish
By the way, this was my first try at a non-fantasy fic... so if it's not that good... I'll probably get around to rewriting it anyways. Thanks for reading. :)