The House Challenge- Inept

By: TB and BB

Rated PG-13

Disclaimer: We don't own GH or House. And if we did it would be way funnier and way cooler to watch. Don't sue.

Robin sat stumped. She ran every test she could think of, some even well out of the realm of possibility.

Spinelli was sick and getting worse. She sat down in front of her computer and started googling for help. She came across a name, Doctor Gregory House, M.D. at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. His credentials were exceptional. If she could only get him to have a look at Spinelli.

She set forth; sent emails, made phone calls that went directly to voice mail. She finally had enough and spoke to the Dean of Medicine at PPTH.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Doctor Cuddy. My name is Robin Scorpio, I'm a research physician at General Hospital in Port Charles, New York. I've been trying to get in contact with one of your doctors, a Gregory House," Robin said, trying not to sound too desperate.

"I vaguely recall House mentioning annoying calls and emails from, and this is his quote not mine, 'podunk, Upstate New York.' Not to sound rude, but don't you have an immunologist or virologist on staff?" Cuddy asked.

"I don't want to get too far into it, but no. At this time, those positions are not filled. I'm a researcher, but my field is brain injury. I need a diagnostician and, from my research, Dr. House is the best and the closest."

"I have sympathy with your plight, but Dr. House is due to leave on vaca-" she paused. "He is due to leave on vacation, but I can't get him to leave."

Robin sat in silence, contemplating.

"You need to get your doctor to leave, I'm in particular need of him. How about I have a friend come pick him up?"

"He's not just going to leave with someone," Cuddy said, "How-"

"My friend is very persuasive," Robin replied, "He'll be safe, but he'll be out of your hair for a while."

"Well, let me get you his schedule," Cuddy said, digging around her desk.

The two women set up a date and time and Robin went to visit Jason.

"You want me to what?" Jason asked.

"I want you to kidnap a doctor," she paused, "Well, it isn't technically kidnapping as his boss said we can have him. You'd be appropriating him, picking him up. Hell, I'd ask Mom to do it, but she's out of the country."

Liz chose this moment to chime in.

"This doctor is Spinelli's only hope, Jason. We need him, or Spinelli could die."

"I'll do it, but I want you to know I don't like the tag team emotional blackmail."

"Noted," Robin said, and thrust a piece of paper in Jason's general vicinity. "This is his schedule, and the optimum kid- I mean pick up time is highlighted."

"Okay, now when I pick up this doctor, should I be in enforcer mode or do you want me to be polite?"

"Do whatever you have to do to get him in the car," Robin replied, "Short of actually doing him physical harm."

"Just so we're clear, if I need to give him a little pop, we'll be okay?"

"That would probably be between you and him," Liz said, smiling, "Depending on how hard you hit him."

Jason didn't even crack a smile.

"Why are you still here?" Cuddy asked impatiently.

House gave her a look and said, "I was hoping to will a button off the top of your blouse with my mind."

Cuddy just glared.

"You were supposed to gone a half an hour ago," she said. "Get out of my hospital before I have you forcibly removed."

"Cuddy, violence? How 'Women In Prison' of you."

"You wish, House."

"I really do. You in a tight prison issue denim shirt, buttons miss-"

"House! Out!"

House grinned evilly and turned toward the exit.

"I'm leaving because I was going to anyway, but I want to thank you for all the images I just put in the spank bank."

House was a step away from his motor cycle when Jason appeared.

"You Dr. House?"

"That would depend completely on who you are."

"Just answer the question."

"Have you had your testosterone level checked recently, you seem a bit aggressive."

"Yep, you gotta him. I was sent to pick you up."

"Well as you can see, I have a perfectly functioning mode of conveyance."

"Are you talking about the cane or the crotch rocket?"

"You are an amusing young man…"

"Yes, yes I am. Now, the car is right around the corner."

"Would I be out of line asking where the hell you're supposed to take me?"

"No."

House stood there looking at him.

"Okay, very literal, I appreciate that. Where are you taking me, assuming you can get me to agree to go?"

"I have it on good authority that you are not busy for the next week or so, and you are needed in Port Charles."

"Ahhh," House said, "Doctor Scorpio must have gotten a hold of Cuddy. She was pushier than normal tonight, getting me out the door."

"Whatever, you can get in the car or I can put you in the car."

House sized him up, trying to decide on a course of action.

"Well, you haven't pulled a gun or anything, so I assume that you're to keep the violence to a minimum."

"Are you going to make me pull a gun?" Jason asked, patience wearing thin.

"Do you have a gun?" House asked, amused.

"Yes, I have a gun."

"I usually make it a habit to not argue with a man with a gun, but since you were sent by Cuddy, and I haven't actually seen a gun, I'm going to have to decline. And seriously, get your testosterone level checked."

House went to straddle his motorcycle. Jason sighed, reached behind him and gave the good doctor a knock on the head with the butt end of his gun, catching him before he hit the ground.

As Jason fireman-carried House to the car, he muttered, "Had to do it the hard way, couldn't just get in the car. Damn things I do for women… Emotional blackmail…" Jason opened the back door and shoved House inside. "Well, let's how happy they are when they actually get him." He got into the driver's seat and drove away, continuing the rant in his head.

A half an hour outside Port Charles House woke up in the back of the car.

Rubbing his head, he sat up and said, "Guess you did have a gun."

Jason just made a noncommittal noise.

"Where are we?" House asked.

"I told you, before you forced me knock you over the head and carry you to the car. You're heavier than you look by the way."

"Well, you did hit me in the head with a blunt object, so excuse my short term memory loss. Just be glad I didn't lose control of my bodily functions back here."

Jason replied, "I think that's something we can both be grateful for. And we're almost to Port Charles, I'm going to need you to be quiet."

"Do you have a name or shall I refer to you as blonde assailant to the police."

"The police will not be looking for you."

House snapped in anger.

"That goddamn Cuddy, if she didn't have such a hot rack and tight ass…"he then noticed Jason eyeballing him in the mirror. "What? She does. But, she is also a devious, conniving, deceitful woman. Which is usually right up my alley, but this…"

Jason sighed with relief as he pulled into the GH parking structure.

"You brought me to another hospital?" House asked in irritation.

Jason sighed again, more annoyed.

"This is the hospital of the woman who has been trying to get in contact with you for the last week. Okay, now, are you going to behave or am I going to have to strap you to a wheelchair?"

"I don't usually go for the bondage, just hand me my cane and I'll move on my own."

They entered the building and two very attractive brunettes descended upon him.

"Ladies, I don't have time for a lap dance, but later…"

"Excuse me?" Liz said.

Robin just rolled her eyes.

"Doctor House, I'm Doctor Scorpio,…"

"'Scorpio'?" he asked, eyes gleaming, "Is there a Doctor Sagittarius?"

Liz looked over at Jason.

"You had to use force, huh?" she said.

Jason sighed, this time with deep relief that it was over.

"Yeah."

"Maximista," Spinelli rasped, breathing deeply through his nasal cannula.

"I'm here, Spinelli."

"Did you bring it… The nectar of the Gods…"

She squirmed.

"Maybe you shouldn't… I mean, you're really sick."

"You would deny," he gasped, "the Jackal" another gasp, "in his time of need."

"No, Spinelli. I wouldn't," she said, sadly. Then she brightened, "But this is diet and that is low sodium." She leaned over as if to kiss him, but changed her mind. "I have to get back to work before Kate fires me," she said, heading for the door.

She turned to him as she opened it. "You're not allowed to die, I have expressly forbidden it and if you do, I'll make your after life an non-living hell."

Spinelli smiled weakly.

"Your wish is my command," he said as he began to sip and munch.

House left the assembled doctors and nurse standing by the elevator, found a private spot and pulled out his cell phone.

"Wilson," he said, "I've been kidnapped."

There was a very short pause.

"No you weren't."

"A big, blonde, thug knocked me over the head and dumped me in the back of his car. I'm now in," he stopped and looked around him, "Hey, you in the pony tail! Where am I?"

Leo looked up from the chart and said, "General Hospital in Port Charles New York."

"Port Charles," House said sarcastically into his cell. "I have been kidnapped to diagnose something."

"I'm fairly sure you weren't kidnapped, because from what I hear, Cuddy told them to take you."

"I knew that deceitful wench had something to with this. When I get back..."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why come back, you're already there. Do what you would do here. Assemble a team, diagnose and cure and then leave."

House thought, short and soft.

"I'm going to need a refill."

"House, I just wrote you-"

"Wilson, I am in a new environment, and I have possible cranial trauma, God knows what-"

"For God's sake, yes, yes, I'll write the refill."

House hobbled over to the nursing station. He encountered a large black woman.

"I need the fax number for your pharmacy."

She cocked her head and looked at him.

"You could ask them. Other end of this level. That way," she pointed down a hallway, and walked away.

"I love it here already," House said, back on the phone.

"What? The legendary House charm not working in upstate New York?"

"Blah, blah, Wilson. I'll call you back with the fax number. I gotta get together a crack team."

With that he snapped the cell phone shut and turned back to the assembled crew by the elevator.

"So, where's my brilliant assistants?" he asked the group.

There was milling and not responding.

"You," he pointed at Patrick Drake, "what do you do?"

"I'm the world's best neurosurgeon," he said, puffing himself up a little.

"Doubt it, but you keep dreaming." He turned to Leo Julian. "What do you do?"

"Cardiology."

House's eyes rolled up into the back of his head.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you putting stitches in a toe when I got here?"

"No, I was doing stitches."

"That's what we pay P.A.'s to do," he said sarcastically, "And you, Miss Greeter, your specialty?"

"First of all, my name is Robin, which you know, because I told you. And I'm a researcher. Brain trauma."

"Before you ask, I'm an OB," Kelly Lee put in and flashed a flirty smile.

"And you, in the scrubs, I assume you're the Endocrinologist?"

Liz smiled and said, "No, I'm a nurse on the Surgical Floor."

"Is this the surgical floor?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

Liz blew out her breath and responded.

"I've been hired as Spinelli's private nurse."

"Moonlighting?"

"It's in my contract," she retorted.

"So!" he said, clapping his hands together, "Let me get this straight. You're my crack team to solve this medical mystery and you've all hit the genetic lottery?" He paused, shook his head. "I have a neurosurgeon, cardiologist, an OB, a surgical nurse and a whatever the hell you are, little pregnant woman, to unfold this conundrum."

Robin's face went red with anger.

"That's what you're here for, ass," she said and stalked off for a breather.

"Wow," he said, eyes wide, "She's feisty." At the lack of response he continued, "I have something to do, you find us a conference room and I'll be right back."

Liz pointed at the conference room, House nodded and headed down the hall in the direction of the pharmacy.

House stormed into the conference room, slammed a pill bottle on the table and shouted, "These are not Vicodin!"

Robin threw her hands over her head, "Are you trying to send me into early labor?"

House paused and looked at her.

"Sorry… Cross your legs," he said, half heartedly and looked back at Patrick, who was the closest. "These," he said, dangling the bottle in his face, "are not Vicodin."

Patrick examined the pill bottle.

"Label says Vicodin, hydrocodone/apap."

"Listen up, Sparky. I have a chronic pain condition managed by Vicodin, and these babies ain't it." He took in the assembled group, "If I'm going to get any work done, I cannot be in pain, so you, with too much product," he pointed to Patrick, "will accompany me to the local GreenMart with your prescription pad. Then, we'll discuss Mister Spaghetti's symptoms."

Patrick balked, but a look from Robin and he stood.

"It's Spinelli," Liz said, irritated.

"It could be linguini, and I could give a toot. Come on, Doctor Sparky Pants, get me mah pills."

The Vicodin debacle solved and Doctor Sparky Pants and House returned to the conference room.

"I turned those meds over to the lab," Patrick said to Robin as he sat down, "Maybe we can figure out what the hell is going on with that."

House lounged in a chair and turned to Robin.

"Alright Dr. Preggers, you seem to be in charge of this goat rodeo, what is the what?"

Robin was irritated, but willed her blood pressure down.

"Damien Spinelli, called Spinelli, came in complaining of fever, nausea and shortness of breath. Upon examination, he also presented with a dark, red rash on his neck, chest, armpits and groin."

"Sounds like a lot of fun," House put in, "You've run tests, I assume."

Robin nodded.

"CBC, chem panel, lights, and eventually a spinal tap."

"So, you just out of the blue decided to poke this guy in the spine?

It was Robin's turn to roll her eyes and feel superior.

"Rash, fever, meningitis."

"Well, was it?"

"The tests were inconclusive. But we started him on broad spectrum antibiotics, which didn't seem to have any affect. Then, he began exhibiting secondary symptoms of severe upper respiratory distress and his nausea and vomiting increased. He's been on IV fluids since he got here a week ago, but he's still coming up dehydrated on all the tests."

"Sounds like a dilly of a problem."

"I don't want to presume," Robin said, "But aren't you supposed to have some experience in this situation?"

House gave her a smile and pointed to Patrick.

"Run all the tests that could have anything to do with his brain."

Turned to Leo."Ponytail, all the cardiovascular/pulmonary tests, please."

To Robin.

"You, draw a buncha blood and run every test they don't."

He looked at Kelly.

"Make sure he's not pregnant," he smirked and waved her off. "Naughty Nurse," he said getting closer to her, "You could attend to my personal needs."

She eyed him for a second and then smiled.

"You recall the large, blonde, menacing fellow who brought you in?" she asked, leaning in close, House followed her lead and nodded. "He's my overprotective boyfriend. So, be careful what you say, or next time you meet the business end of his gun."

"Fair enough," he said, backing up, "You could get another set of vitals and bring me his chart."

House stood back and Liz breezed by him.

"Before you go, Naughty Nurse."

Liz turned to him.

"Where do you get a drink in this podunk town?"

"Jake's," she said and left the room.

House decided to put the time waiting for the tests to come back to good use. He skimmed Spinelli's chart, found a taxi and headed for the bar.

A couple of hours later, he noticed the Naughty Nurse and the Blonde Assailant entered the bar. And just had to sit next to him.

"Coleman!" Jason called, " We need two over here."

"Coming," was the reply.

House turned to them and said, "I came here to escape you, you know."

"Then you should have asked for the name of a bar I wouldn't go to. Be specific next time," Liz snarked and accepted her beer. She took a long drink, looked thoughtful and turned back to House.

"Be sure to let me know if I'm over stepping, but do you have to be a dick to everybody? I mean random people, upon first meeting, you have to be a dick to them? Not that it's that terribly unattractive, as you've become aware I find it kind of attractive, the surly, sarcastic, prickishness."

Jason looked over at her, eyes a bit wide, seemed as if he was going to refute and then said, "No… It's fair."

"Seriously, you can tell me, I have experience."

House leered.

"I'm sure you have much and varied experience." At a look from Jason he settled back. "To answer your question, I don't have to be, I just enjoy it. Plus, like you said, some chicks dig it. And maybe I'm hoping you'll leave tall, blonde and stupid and I'll have a shot."

Jason didn't even look up from his beer. "I have my gun on me. I keep it on me at all times."

Liz and House's pagers went off simultaneously.

"Must be Spinelli," Liz said, pushing her beer towards Jason.

As Jason went to get up she said, "No, I'll take a cab with Dr. Grumpy.

"Okay, he gets out of line, let me know. After he takes care of Spin."

They kissed sweetly good-bye, which House rolled his eyes at and pretended to gag. Liz punched him in the arm and pushed him to the door.

They were assembled in the conference room again, this time with a huge dry erase board.

"So, I take it all the tests came back?" House asked.

Robin got ready to rattle off results.

"Let me guess. Nothing?"

She let out a big breath.

"Yep, not a thing."

"Well, Scooby gang, you are the most inept doctors I have had the privilege of sharing air with. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you're tip-toppity at your 'specialties', except for you, Doctor Preggers, cause I'm still not sure what you do, but you suck as G.P.'s."

He paused and then went on.

"The… boy… has… the… FLU!"

"What?" Robin said, "We just had an out break of Asian-"

"One guy getting sick does not constitute an outbreak. He came in with flu symptoms. You ASSUMED he had meningitis, which was a stretch, but there you are. And when the antibiotics didn't work, you then assumed the worst." He stopped, popped a Vicodin and continued. "You're the worst Apple Dumpling Gang of doctors I have come across ever. Except the OB… She did her job."

Kelly turned in her chair to take in the group.

"Yeah, he's not pregnant," she said, nonchalantly, laid back with her feet up on the table.

"The fever, the rash, the SOB, the nausea… All classic flu symptoms. If you had typed that into google you would have got a better diagnosis than the one you came up with."

"What about the constant dehydration?" Patrick asked, "And his continuing and increasing emesis?"

"Well, Sherlock Holmes and Watsons. I did some stellar detective work… and asked a nurse. Seems your boy has been living on bbq potato chips and diet orange soda."

"I knew I should have frisked Maxi every time she came to visit," Liz put in.

"So, the flu and the dehydrating effects of the diet soda added to the bbq chips on an already sensitive system just exacerbated the whole schmiel out of control."

"To summarize, I was dragged to the ass end of New York to this podunk, piddily little town to tell you bright stars this kid has the flu. And needs a dietician." He paused and then continued. "Now, will one of you bright and shiny beautiful people tell me how to get back to New Jersey, with out being beat in the head and thrown in the back of a car… again?"

Liz raised her hand.

"Yes, Naughty Nurse?"

"I'm going to ask you politely not to call me that. And… a Dr. Cuddy called earlier and she said that we were not allowed to let you leave for at least another six days. And I'm just going to throw this out there, take it as you will, big blonde man with a gun can make that happen."

House sagged into a chair.

"Well, the first thing we need to do, in the next six days, is to hire me as Administrator. So I can staff this place with some auxiliary people, like C.N.A's and P.A.'s, and maybe a general practitioner. And we won't have cardiologists doing stitches and neurosurgeons knocking up the research staff."

He turned to Kelly Lee.

"You know a good motel?"