A Prank Too Far

A/N: Okay here we are with a rewrite of the first ever fanfiction I EVER wrote. How nostalgic of me, I know. I’m new to adultfanfiction but I have been writing fanfiction for…a while now.

Hah.

I warn you, I’m a tad weird in a Scottish kind of way so I suggest you just go with it. Reviews are always welcome but I do prefer them to have a point and not just be ranting flamers, I do hate that.

Sort of a reply to uuuumm…SassieLassie’s challenge. Kinda, I think that was her name anyway.

ANYWAY, read and enjoy and lemme know what you think.


Chapter 1: First Blood to the Prankster

Doctor Gregory House limped into the main lobby of Princeton – Plainsbro and scuttled past the clinic desk as fast as his good leg and cane could propel him. He made it safely to the elevators and used his cane to stab the call button before trying to blend in with a supplies cart.

So far so good.

His head came up at a sudden yell of rage and he turned to see who had been upset so grievously. He knew it hadn’t been him. He’d only been in the hospital for all of forty-five seconds, and even for the exacerbating Doctor House that would have been a new record.

He arched a brow and his piercing blue eyes narrowed as a young girl, no more than eighteen came tearing down the corridor.

Well, as fast as anyone can tear when their leg is in a cast to the hip. She hobbled at a surprisingly fast pace and soon drew level with House.

She was breathing hard and blew a stray strand of black hair out of her eyes. She smiled at House as she sidled behind him.

“Don’t mind me. Just go about your business.” House looked down at her words to see what was in her hand. A roll of cellophane was clutched in one hand, accompanied by a pair of scissors and a roll of industrial strength duct-tape in the other.

Another cry of rage echoed down the corridor and the girl dove into the now open elevator.

“You a doctor?” She asked.

“No, I just like coming here everyday for conversation and company.” House deadpanned.

“Oh, hah hah. Here, hold these.” She thrust the cellophane, scissors and tape at him before jamming the buttons on the elevator control panel. The doors obediently hissed shut and the elevator obediently began its trek upwards.

“YOU!!” House turned to see who was yelling and saw the biggest orderly that this hospital could legally employ barrelling down the corridor towards him.

He was wrapped rather snugly in a mixture of cellophane and duct-tape.

And he looked none too happy about the situation.

Realisation dawned too late on House as the orderly’s fists clenched.

“Oh shit.” Was all he managed to say.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Chase, Cameron and Foreman all looked at the hobbling figure as he entered the room and then cast glances to each other. They had always known that House freely ignored the dress code, but this was weird.

Even for him.

He was covered in cellophane and was that duct-tape over his mouth?

He gestured emphatically to Cameron and then his mouth with his elbow. One of the few things that hadn’t been taped to another body part.

Cameron smothered a grin as she rose from her chair and ripped the tape from his mouth, taking a considerable amount of that patented House I’ll-shave-when-I-feel-like-it stubble.

“Oowee! You did that on purpose. I’m crippled you know.” House mock whined.

“That just makes you an easier target.” Foreman put in.

“Shut up and get this crud off of me.” House grumbled before going on to answer their unasked question.

“Did you know,” he said. “That if you get the lighting just right, you can duct-tape several lengths of cellophane across a doorway and it will be practically invisible to the naked eye?”

Cameron rolled her eyes as she bent to remove a stubborn length of tape that affixed House’s cane to his hand. “Really?”

“Yeah, apparently. It makes a really good practical joke; because whoever’s in the room comes out and walks right into it, and then they’re engulfed in a swath of see-through staticky goodness. Which is all very amusing to onlookers and very amusing to the prankster if he or she happens to be fortunate enough to get away with it.” House grimaced as yet another swatch of skin was brutally waxed via duct-tape.

“You’re late because you spent the morning cellophaning people’s doors and then you got caught?”

House sighed as if explaining to a child. “Nooo. I’m late because someone else put cellophane over Billing’s door and then thrust the damning evidence into my hands as they made use of my elevator for escaping purposes.”

His team stepped away as the last of the tape and plastic was removed from their boss. “Wait a minute,” Chase said. “Someone taped Billing’s door? That guy’s gotta weigh at least three hundred pounds. He did this to you?”

House limped to his chair and sat down with a sigh. “Yup and may I remind you that muscle weighs more than fat.”

“Why didn’t you just explain to him that it was someone else?” Cameron asked.

House looked at her for a moment.

“Right, you’re House. No one would believe you hadn’t done it anyway.”

“First things first. I want this prankster found. She’s about eighteen, six one, black hair green eyes and built like a young Wonder Woman and she has her left leg in a cast to the hip.”

“And then?” Foreman asked his voice dripping disdain.

“Well, Foreman I have to admit I’m a little disappointed in you. I would have thought a gangsta such as yourself would know all about revenge.” House grinned maliciously as he sent his team to work.

This was going to be fun.


HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH


“House.”

The aforementioned Diagnostician looked up at the mention of his name. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he saw Cuddy half in his doorway hanging onto the glass panelled door with one manicured hand as she waited for his full and complete attention to shift from her chest to her face. She propped her hand on her hip as it took slightly longer than usual for him to focus.

“What can I do for you, Cuddy?” He grinned at her in what she supposed he thought was a boyishly charming manner. She knew better.

“I’m here to tell you, since you apparently have stopped answering your pager,” her voice was dangerous as she pointedly looked at the small black abandoned box under his left heel that was propped on his desk. “That the donation came through and you can hire another lackey.” She strode into the room with the patented Cuddy swing to her hips and dropped a large pile of folders on his desk. “Here’s a stack of resumes that I have approved of, pick the one that appeals to you the most.” She said on a tight smirk before spinning on one expensive blade like heel and going for the door.

“Cuddy?” House asked as she reached it and nearly walked right out of the room.

She turned to him with an expression of utmost impatience on her face. “What?” She demanded.

“Nice ass today.” He told her cheerfully and snatched the folders off the desk to peruse them at his leisure, finally an excuse that was pre-approved to get out of clinic.

“Clinic starts at four.” She told him, as if reading his mind and then swung right out of the door. He scowled at her back and then let his eyes trail appreciatively over her form as she stalked down the corridor.

He tore his eyes away and looked to the thickest folder that was on top of the pile.

“Doctor T. McQueen.” He muttered and flipped it open to read about T. McQueen’s experience. “McQueen might just get an interview for having such a cool name.” He mused quietly to himself. Then he grinned and plugged his I-pod into the dock and let Queen fill the room.

Another day of work successfully avoided, damn he was good.


HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Read and review, ye know ye wanna!