This was born of my love for House and many a discussion with i've-always-been-a-pirate (if you haven't read her work, you need to). I DO have plans to do a House AU but until I get around to doing it, I shall live through these one-shots.

As always enjoy, and reviews/favorites/follows feed the muse!

"SWAN!"

Emma Swan rolled her eyes at the familiar lilting accent, knowing her day was about to get ten times harder than it had been. Turning she saw one Dr. Killian Jones, Head of Diagnostic Medicine storming toward her, face a mask of absolute fury. As was his fashion he was dressed in jeans, a pale blue short sleeved shirt, and a black vest with not a doctor's coat in sight. His right hand held a Disney Captain Hook coffee mug - she had never gotten the full story on it, but she had a suspicion it was a gift from his best-friend's wife - while his prosthetic left hand swung at his side.

If he wasn't such an infuriating asshole she would have found him attractive - oh hell, who she was kidding? She might have been his fellow but she was like every other woman at Storybrooke General (save the Dean of Medicine, Belle French) who at one time or another had drooled over the obscenely attractive Brit.

There was no denying he was handsome - a well built body, strong jaw that he kept covered with facial hair, piercing blue eyes the color of the sea after a storm, and black hair that was always just a tad too long and in that perfectly disheveled state. But his personality quickly shattered any fantasy a woman might have about him. He was a misanthropic, cynic, narcissist asshole with a drinking problem who thought he was God's gift to women and science.

It didn't matter that he was the best diagnostician in this hemisphere, he was still a grade-A asshole who she wanted to punch more often than work for.

"Yes, Jones?" she asked, smiling sweetly at the scowling Englishman as he came to a stop mere inches from her, once again invading her personal space.

"Why the bloody hell is that woman sitting with my patient?"

"Because she's his mother," she said pointedly, ignoring his deepening scowl. "She has every right to sit with her son."

"Not when she's being a moron and refusing treatment for her son's flesh eating bacteria," Killian snapped.

"Theorised flesh eating bacteria," she replied. "One you have yet to get Belle's permission to run the tests to prove."

Killian waved her words away with his prosthetic hand. "It's flesh eating bacteria. The tests take too much time and I can't save his life if his mother refuses to let him have the medicine, Swan."

"What's going on?"

Emma turned to see David Nolan, Head of the Oncology Department and somehow Jones's best-friend, walking toward them.

"Jones believes I'm his personal bouncer when it comes to uncooperative family members who don't want their loved ones pumped with potential lethal medicine over a diagnosis that hasn't even been confirmed yet."

David blinked at her. "So your average day working for Jones?"

"Pretty much."

"'Tis not my fault the bleeding git of a mum thinks her son's flesh is just going to magically heal itself," he muttered.

David frowned at his best-friend. "Didn't you think it was cancer yesterday?"

"His kidneys started to fail last night," Emma interjected before Killian could. "And with someone's less than impressive bedside manner, she's not willing to risk her son's overall health for a diagnosis given on a whim."

Killian snorted. "No, she's just willing to risk his life because she's incompetent."

"Perhaps you should have a better bedside manner and they wouldn't refuse treatment."

"Would you like first hand experience of my bedside manner, love?" he mumbled, right eyebrow quirking as his tongue slowly licked his bottom lip. She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes again and to ignore the warmth that spread through her belly at the overtly sexual gesture. If he wasn't driving her to punch him in the face he was driving her to the brink of insanity with every innuendo laced word and gesture.

"I've seen your bedside manner, Jones. It's very… lacking."

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest as David rolled his eyes. Bringing his coffee cup to his lips he replied, "Oh, you've not seen anything, Swan. If you had, you'd be left-" Without warning he ripped his coffee cup away from his lips, turning his head just in time to miss her with the spray of its contents.

"What the buggering fuck is that?" he cursed, face pinched in absolute disgust as he wiped at his mouth with his left forearm.

"Wow," David said with faux surprise, "It would seem someone paid the barista off to switch your coffee with warm goat's milk after you switched their shampoo out for green hair dye."

Biting her lip to stifle the laugh bubbling up, Emma turned as Killian stared at his best-friend in horror. It served the infuriating asshole right for trying to treat the kid without running the proper tests. With Killian's spluttering behind her she headed for the direction of Belle's office to get authorization to start the treatment before the tests were done.

Infuriating asshole he may be, but she was pretty sure his diagnosis was right. Not that she'd ever tell him that.