A/N- Hey, it's my first House fic! As usual, this is a non-beta-read/midnight-ramble story, so any grammer/spelling/canon errors are to be blamed on a combination of mediocre coffee and lack of sleep.
Disclaimer- I do not own the show, House MD, or any of it's characters.
Foreman walked, fuming, into the office. Since it was Cameron's day off, it was his turn to play House's personal assistant. He sat down at House's desk and surveyed the seemingly random piles of paper. How the hell was he supposed to find anything in this mess? Figuring one heap was as good as any, Foreman started to sift through the layers looking for the tox-screen report House had to have.
As he sorted through the piles, Foreman's temper grew. This is why he wanted to leave. This is why he didn't want to work with House anymore. House was a self-centered, controlling, ego-maniacal bastard who abused his patients and his employees. Foreman practically growled with frustration when his search yielded nothing. He glared at the desk. Figures, he thought. House probably forgot where he put the damn report.
No. House may be many things, but forgetful isn't one of them. Foreman sighed, and started on the desk drawers. He opened the top right drawer, and there laying on top was the tox-screen. As he grabbed it, a smaller piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Reaching down to pick it up, Foreman noticed the handwriting. It was a child's scrawl; the big misshapen letters written in purple magic marker. He sat back down as he read the letter.
Deer Doctr Howse,
Thank you for makeng my mommy bettur. I love her very much. You wer meen to daddy wen we visitted mommy in the hospital. thats ok. he was bad. He mad mommy sick.
Foreman remembered the case– it had been almost seven months ago. The father had been slowly poisoning the mother in an attempt to get her life insurance money. The day they had discharged the woman, the daughter, Maggie, had asked Foreman how to spell the word "hospital". He smiled in wonderment. He had seen the girl give House this letter, and assumed that House had thrown it out. Maybe House wasn't such a bastard after all.
The phone rang. Foreman picked up the receiver, "Dr. Foreman."
An acidic voice came on through the handset, "Stop oogling my porn and get back down here!" There was a loud click followed by a dial tone.
Foreman sighed as he went to join the team, tox-screen report in hand.
A/N- Thanks for reading! Now go and review:-)