title: dialogs 1/?: tell me lies
author: lady charena
fandom: house, md
pairing: house, oc
rating: gen, pg, angst

summary: well, don’t mind the rant; the little buggers won’t shut up! kind of a spoiler for 4.15 house’s head.
disclaimer: story’s idea is mine as far as I know, but I do not intend to touch any of the rights of the legal owner of the characters from ‘House MD’ I’ve used. anybody else who’s showing up - you can’t have ‘em, they’re my spawn. no moneymaking, no offence meant.

“What the… you can read, can’t you? The roof is off-limits for patients.”

Well, courtesy definitely ‘is’ overrated.

She turns her head to look at the man with the cane, limping faster than one might think possible and coming towards her. “What makes you think I’m a patient? I could be a doctor like you, hiding up here for a cigarette and some fresh air.”

“What makes you think I’m a doctor?” he mocks her. Taking a seat at the wall across from her, he plants his cane in front of him like a warrior from an ancient tribe might have done with a spear.

“Dr. Wilson squealed on you.”

He snorts, but not without amusement. “So you’re one of Jimmy’s precious cancer patients. You don’t look too bad.” Blue eyes survey her. “Good for me, I don’t have any money on me.” The same blue eyes narrow as she laughs. “I have to pay him ten bucks each times he delivers the ‘bad news’ and the recipient thanks him. No offence.”

“Then I guess you own him quite some money.”

“Then I guess you don’t have cancer and neither does your ‘loved one’ you accompanied to the hospital.” He mocks her again, but there is a note of – if also bored – interest in his voice. He pulls a lollipop out of the pocket and starts unwrapping the candy.

She shakes her head. “I went to the Clinic this morning and overheard Dr. Wilson excusing himself for being late, saying something along the lines of being conned into Clinic duty by a limping twerp who’s supposedly his bestest buddy. Got him a very sympathetic smile from the Nurse. And the promise to treat all the red cherry fizz lollipops with a laxative.” She dares to look kind of smug as he quickly pulls the candy out of his mouth. “No offence.”

“You made this up” he says, all wide blue innocent eyes and mock horror.

“The part about the laxatives, yes.”

Still, after a disgusted look at the candy, he drops it over the wall. Hopefully nobody’s walking by right now down there. “Doesn’t explain how you obviously got lost on your way to Psych Evaluation. It’s on the third floor, west wing, the elevator puts you right there.”

“Oh, I didn’t get lost. I just wanted some air after sitting for hours in triage line with all the other sick people.”

“Yeah, hate that myself” he answers testily. “Being around sick people and all that stuff.”

She can sense he is still pissy about her presence. Well there wasn’t a sign at the door, saying: ‘Roof access only to Dr. Grumpy.’

He leans a little heavier onto his cane, like he’s about to tell a secret. “I come up here to talk to the voices in my head. Trying to shut up the little buggers for years.”

It ‘was’ a very transparent attempt to scare her off.

“I know it’s difficult. They’re not at all ‘that’ bright.”

A mixture of annoyance and surprise shows in his face. “Wonder how I’d get ‘you’ to shut up.”

She shrugs. “No need to be grumpy.” With this she simply moves toward the side - and vanishes over the edge of the wall she’ sitting on. The same way he dropped the lollipop earlier. The wrong side, the one where’s nothing left to grasp at except air.

He’s on his feet, gazing down to the parking lot even before the shock registers itself fully in his brain. His leg protests at once about being jerked around like that, but for the moment he pays no attention to his bitchin’ appendage. There’s no smashed body on the ground, no blood on the grey concrete, no people rushing toward a broken form.

He catapults himself into full awareness, remembering – now – he’s not on the roof, but in his home, in his own bed. There never was a mysterious suicidal woman he talked to. He dreamt. His head hurts like hell. Skull fractures are a bitch… He licks his lips and tastes traces of a cherry fizz lollipop.