Post by Alliecat on Mar 16, 2012 2:38:16 GMT 10
Title: House Call
Rating: PG
Word Count: 762
Crossover: House/Tortall (PotS)
Summary: Lord House may be the best tactician in all of Tortall, but that doesn't mean he's loveable. Rating for one slightly bad word adn general meanness.
“Watch this,” Neal, leaning towards Owen, whispers. He reaches into his backpack and grabs a handful of raisins, his eyes trained on Kel. Kel looks up just in time to see Neal’s wrist cocked back, a wild grin on his face.
“Stop it,” she hisses and sets her book upon the table. It flips shut and she grimaces, for the book is very long and the pages thin. “Tactics starts any moment. You know how prickly Lord House can be.”
“You sound as if it’s bad watching Lord House yell at you,” Neal comments.
“He doesn’t just berate me,” Kel says, maintaining a steady gaze on the open doorframe. “He yells at all of us.”
Neal shrugs. “It’s interesting.” Kel breaks her gaze here to study him. “And I can take it myself.” She pauses, unsure of how to reply. But just as she conjures up a witty retort, House enters the room and she is forced to fall silent.
He hobbles in, his cane echoing taps off the smooth stone floor. He slaps a folder on the podium and leans against it before beginning to speak. (Neal secretly wishes that the podium would slide, for he knew House would not be able to catch himself because of his leg.)
“How many of you didn’t bother to read the assignment for today?” His voice is hard to describe; it is gravelly but very, very loud and impossible to forget. No pages raise their hands, though all look around anxiously, looking for the crazy soul who may have. (Even Neal, who most certainly did not even bother to open the book, does not.) “Well then,” House continues. “Who here is a liar?” Seeing the substantial smirk on House’s face, Neal begins to wonder with curiosity, not fear, what his plan to embarrass and expose is.
“No takers, eh?” House moves away from the podium, his cane seeming to tap even louder than before. “Who can tell me why King Jasson’s strategies in the Red River War failed?” Kel’s hand instantly goes up, along with a dozen others. House pauses for a moment before pointing at a back near the back. “You, stand up,” he says.
“Me?” the boy asks. Neal recognizes him and knows that Lord House has chosen well.
“Yes, you.” He pauses as the boy stands. “Well, answer the question!” The page begins to mumble an answer but House almost immediately cuts him off. “I knew you were useless,” he snarls. The boy tries to slump into his chair, but House flicks his cane upwards, indicating that he wants the boy to remain standing. “You raised your hand, because you want to act smart, but bent your elbow so I would pick someone else.” He pauses, knowing he has the audience. “You think you’re smart, but really you’re just as hollow as the rest of your idiotic yearmates. Go be useful and get me some tea. I like it with two scoops of sugar and cream. Now!”
The boy runs, really runs, to the front of the classroom and out the door. “While I’m waiting for my tea I may as well try to smarten you all as much as possible. I doubt it will have any effect.”
“House, you can’t be doing this,” Jon says.
“Doing what?” House retorts and tilts his head.
“Abusing the pages. Raoul overheard you make a page go get you tea in the middle of your lecture.”
“Afraid the wittle pages are going to run to mommy?” he asked, his voice thick with sarcasm. “So what? Am I not allowed to send pages on errands?”
“Raoul says you embarrassed the poor boy before all his peers.”
“The next time I’ll offer the pages tissues before I begin speaking.”
“You’re here to teach them, not terrify them,” Jon reminded.
“Fear makes them learn.”
Jon sighed and flipped to another section of his notes. “You told Keladry of Mindelan she might be able to find a husband and a life if it weren’t for her “thunder thighs”.”
“It’s true.” House spread his arms wide. “I’m passing wisdom from one generation to another.”
Jon dropped his papers on the table. “You’re an ass.”
“I’m doing her a favor.”
Jon stood. “I’m not dealing with you anymore. Stop this or−“
“Or you’ll fire me? You can’t. I’m just too good.” House paused. “What could you possibly do to me?”
Jon stood at the door to the library, his palm on a bookcase, and sighs. “I’ll think of something.”
House watches him leave, a small smile on his face.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 762
Crossover: House/Tortall (PotS)
Summary: Lord House may be the best tactician in all of Tortall, but that doesn't mean he's loveable. Rating for one slightly bad word adn general meanness.
:::
“Watch this,” Neal, leaning towards Owen, whispers. He reaches into his backpack and grabs a handful of raisins, his eyes trained on Kel. Kel looks up just in time to see Neal’s wrist cocked back, a wild grin on his face.
“Stop it,” she hisses and sets her book upon the table. It flips shut and she grimaces, for the book is very long and the pages thin. “Tactics starts any moment. You know how prickly Lord House can be.”
“You sound as if it’s bad watching Lord House yell at you,” Neal comments.
“He doesn’t just berate me,” Kel says, maintaining a steady gaze on the open doorframe. “He yells at all of us.”
Neal shrugs. “It’s interesting.” Kel breaks her gaze here to study him. “And I can take it myself.” She pauses, unsure of how to reply. But just as she conjures up a witty retort, House enters the room and she is forced to fall silent.
He hobbles in, his cane echoing taps off the smooth stone floor. He slaps a folder on the podium and leans against it before beginning to speak. (Neal secretly wishes that the podium would slide, for he knew House would not be able to catch himself because of his leg.)
“How many of you didn’t bother to read the assignment for today?” His voice is hard to describe; it is gravelly but very, very loud and impossible to forget. No pages raise their hands, though all look around anxiously, looking for the crazy soul who may have. (Even Neal, who most certainly did not even bother to open the book, does not.) “Well then,” House continues. “Who here is a liar?” Seeing the substantial smirk on House’s face, Neal begins to wonder with curiosity, not fear, what his plan to embarrass and expose is.
“No takers, eh?” House moves away from the podium, his cane seeming to tap even louder than before. “Who can tell me why King Jasson’s strategies in the Red River War failed?” Kel’s hand instantly goes up, along with a dozen others. House pauses for a moment before pointing at a back near the back. “You, stand up,” he says.
“Me?” the boy asks. Neal recognizes him and knows that Lord House has chosen well.
“Yes, you.” He pauses as the boy stands. “Well, answer the question!” The page begins to mumble an answer but House almost immediately cuts him off. “I knew you were useless,” he snarls. The boy tries to slump into his chair, but House flicks his cane upwards, indicating that he wants the boy to remain standing. “You raised your hand, because you want to act smart, but bent your elbow so I would pick someone else.” He pauses, knowing he has the audience. “You think you’re smart, but really you’re just as hollow as the rest of your idiotic yearmates. Go be useful and get me some tea. I like it with two scoops of sugar and cream. Now!”
The boy runs, really runs, to the front of the classroom and out the door. “While I’m waiting for my tea I may as well try to smarten you all as much as possible. I doubt it will have any effect.”
:::
“House, you can’t be doing this,” Jon says.
“Doing what?” House retorts and tilts his head.
“Abusing the pages. Raoul overheard you make a page go get you tea in the middle of your lecture.”
“Afraid the wittle pages are going to run to mommy?” he asked, his voice thick with sarcasm. “So what? Am I not allowed to send pages on errands?”
“Raoul says you embarrassed the poor boy before all his peers.”
“The next time I’ll offer the pages tissues before I begin speaking.”
“You’re here to teach them, not terrify them,” Jon reminded.
“Fear makes them learn.”
Jon sighed and flipped to another section of his notes. “You told Keladry of Mindelan she might be able to find a husband and a life if it weren’t for her “thunder thighs”.”
“It’s true.” House spread his arms wide. “I’m passing wisdom from one generation to another.”
Jon dropped his papers on the table. “You’re an ass.”
“I’m doing her a favor.”
Jon stood. “I’m not dealing with you anymore. Stop this or−“
“Or you’ll fire me? You can’t. I’m just too good.” House paused. “What could you possibly do to me?”
Jon stood at the door to the library, his palm on a bookcase, and sighs. “I’ll think of something.”
House watches him leave, a small smile on his face.
:::