Irish Mediator

Chapter 1: Hippo Oath

"And what do you think you're doing?" The woman's accusation surprised House so that he nearly jumped (House stressed the nearly). He recovered quickly and changed his expression to that of innocence as he looked up at the unwanted intruder. Well, maybe that description was slightly distorted. In truth, House was the unwanted intruder and could she really be blamed for catching the thief red-handed?

The woman stood in the doorway, a devilish smirk gracing her lips. House frowned, not sure what she was planning to do next. The woman's hair was a rare shade of dark red. Her eyes were a hazel and her skin was fairly pale with distinct freckles. She spoke with a strong Irish accent, yet her attire was definitely American.

"Ah…you must be Dr. Baker." House evaded easily. Her smirk didn't fade.

"Yes, Ceara Baker and I see you actually read the inscription on the office you just broke into. I'm thoroughly impressed." She replied sarcastically, making House smile a little at the woman's quick wit. "You must be Dr. House." She added, looking him over to confirm his identity. House was surprised (though he didn't show it) that the woman knew who he was.

"Who tipped you off?" He asked, glancing around with mock paranoia.

"Wilson. He mentioned you walked with a cane, which is pretty hard to miss. Not to mention the fact you're holding his file behind your back." She spoke calmly as she took a couple steps forward, hand extended for the file. House released an exasperated sigh as he handed her the file in defeat.

"What else did he say?" House asked curiously, still eyeing the folder.

"Well, he mentioned you were a misanthropic, self-centered bastard, but why tell you things you already know?" Ceara countered turning to leave the room. House wasn't going to let her go that easily, not without asking.

"Aren't you curious as to why I wanted his file?" He asked nonchalantly. She stopped and turned back to the diagnostician. The man was leaning against the file cabinet, twirling his cane.

"You're worried about him and if you really want to know what's wrong…you can make an appointment." Ceara added pointedly.

"I'm not worried about him and I'm not stupid. I had to take the hippo oath too. You can't tell me a word of what your 'patient' told you in confidence." House argued. His blue eyes were trained on her every move. The woman was thoroughly intriguing and House couldn't help but enjoy the banter.

"I've never been one for the rules…if I think breaking them will ultimately benefit my patient." She retorted with a mischievous grin.

"You'd be risking your job…and Wilson must not have said too much about me if you really think I'm a benefit to him. I'll exploit anything you tell me."

"Well then, I guess I'll have to be careful what I tell you, but your not getting anything until you make an appointment." I can see why Wilson likes her.

"Trust me. I don't need some psychiatrist analyzing me and giving me all this psychobabble crap. I just want to know the name of the ex-wife #4, so I can chase her off before Wilson self-destructs again as a result of his need for neediness." He countered quickly, somewhat annoyed at the prospect of paying for information.

"So you think he's seeing someone?" Ceara asked indifferently.

"This may shock you, but I know Wilson a lot better than you do. The man goes all out when he tries to impress a girl. He pulls out the hideous ties and takes extra care to iron his shirts, and he must really like her when he stops going to lunch with me."

"And that's all it takes to get your undivided attention?"

"I notice things…and I know you know who he's seeing. I bet the name's written in your notes somewhere." His eyes stared longingly at the file.

"Why not ask him instead of breaking and entering?" She asked, hiding the record from his gaze.

"I'm complicated."

"You love confrontation, but only when you have the upper hand. You avoid situations where you don't know what the other person's motives are or what they're hiding, such as this one." Great…the Irish witch is analyzing me just like I said she would. I hate psychiatrists.

"Yeah, I'm scared." House sneered, rolling his eyes. "Now, hand me the file and we can end this nightmare." He continued sarcastically.

"Ah-ah." Ceara waved her finger. "How bout this…take me to lunch and we can talk. That way we can save your precious reputation."

"I'm pretty sure there's a bet in NICU that I'll finally get that much needed psychiatric help," House laughed slightly at the idea (which wasn't far from the truth). He paused for a moment until he finally answered, "fine, but I'm not paying."

This is an idea I had and it may be awhile before this is updated (depending on the level of interest). I would appreciate feedback! Thanks.