Dr. James Wilson vs Colonel Roy Mustang
Disclaimer: I own neither FMA, nor House M.D. I'm just messing with their heads.
Author's Note: People have been asking for a story about Roy Mustang's turn for his physical, but I couldn't t hink of any plot which wouldn't end without House flambeed. The answer came to me while I excercised this afternoon: he'll make Wilson do it! Yeah! That's it!
Warning: strong language and burning hair. Oh, yeah, and this story is total crack.
Beta: none. Can you tell?
Central General Hospital, Central, Amestrus
Dr. Gregory House was explaining the finer points of soap operas to a pretty brunette nurse when a scream echoed down the hall from Exam Room Five. The nurse gasped in surprise,but House just smiled his evil smile.
He'd planned this all along.
A second later, the door to Exam Room Five burst open and Dr. James Wilson exited at a dead run.
James was screaming like a banshee because his hair was on fire.
He raced down the hall in House's direction, scattering startled patients, visitors, nurses, and orderlies while trailing a thin pall of grey smoke.
Time to play the hero! Was the pleasant thought skipping in House's mind. He swiveled adroitly in the chair he was sitting on, stuck out his cane against Wilson's ankles and brought his colleague crashing to the floor.
The stop was abrupt and the fall was hard, knocking the wind out of the man's lungs. This had the secondary advantage of momentarily denying Dr. Wilson the power of speech.
I'm a fucking genius!i House realized with a start and his grin widened.
He grabbed a glass vase of roses, yanked them out and dumped the water over Wilson's head, extinguishing the small blaze. The latter just lay there on the cool marble floor and groaned while a nasty smell of scorched hair filled the hospital lobby.
The pretty nurse gasped again, and at first House thought she was only reacting to what just occured. But after he looked over one shoulder at her, he saw her gaze was directed back up the hall.
His eyes widened a bit at the sight. A naked man of medium height was approaching them with determined strides. His narrowed eyes were mere slits of glinting obsidian. His short-cropped black hair, and his 'naughty bits' bounced with each purposeful step.
The one jarring note was a single white glove, decorated with a red circle which the man was pulling taut on his right hand. He reached the trio and stopped, glaring down at Dr. Wilson and flexing his fingers.
"I am Colonel Roy Mustang!" he declared. "As of this moment there will be no more fucking prostate exams! Is that perfectly clear, Dr. House?!"
"Oh, yes sir, Colonel sir!" House stood up and sketched a messy salute. "Crystal clear, sir!"
Roy gave House a dubious glare,but he seemed more or less satisfied. He spun around on one heel and marched back up the corridor toward Exam Room Five, and his clothes.
"Damn you,House!" Wilson wailed from down on the floor where he'd gone into a fetal position to protect himself from Mustang's ire. "You didn't tell me he uses his gloves to make flames!"
"Oh, yeah," House's face took on an expression of sly innocence. "Now that you mention it, I realized I'd neglected to warn you right after you left. Sorry about that."