: I don't own House and I don't own BtVS.
He was speeding, he knew. He didn’t need the odometer to tell him that. He could feel it in the air whipping at his sides. He always knew when he was speeding, not that he ever cared.
But tonight was different from other nights. Tonight, Gregory House had killed a man.”You’re wrong House.”
“Me? No, never.”
“If you’re wrong, we’re going to kill him”
“If I’m right, I’ll be a hero.”
“Don’t do it.”
Foreman had been wrong, of course. But so had he. And so Nicholas Travers had died. Cameron had been right, she usually was, so House had left her to deliver the news to the kids. Nice kids that didn’t ask annoying questions or touch any of the books in his office, that would be thrown into the foster care system because he had gone and killed their father
But he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it. So he had slipped out of the hospital and sped down the highway. To where? To anywhere, on any road, for however long.
He was a little high, too.
He found himself pulled over on the side of the road, sitting on the curb, staring at the street. He didn’t know how long he sat there. Maybe minutes, maybe hours, when the car came barreling into the tree. He barely registered that it was red before it spun out of control.
“I guess your driving skills finally paid off.”
“I hated this car.”
“Alright, how do we get home?”
“We can’t call Willow.”
“Yeah, we didn’t think this through.”
And the two women stood in silence as they watched the car go up in flames.
“Faith, this is NOT an abandoned truck route.”
“What? Yes it is, I use it all the t – oh shit.”
“Hello.” House managed to say the only word he could form at the moment, and the smaller blonde woman scowled at him.
“Hey.” The taller woman grinned cheerfully. “Feel like helping us commit insurance fraud?”
“Faith!” The blonde woman slapped her on the arm.
“Are you two okay?” That was his doctor instinct, kicking in about five minutes too late.
“We’re five by five sugar. How about you never saw us here?”
“Quit saying my name B. You really suck at this life of crime shit.”
This time the small blonde woman kicked her in the shin, and the brunette crossed her arms.
“I hate you, I’m calling the witch to take me home.” She walked over to the burning car, leaving House with the short crazy blonde.
She stuck out her tongue and turned to House. “If you go to the cops we’ll kill you.”
“Oh right, what are you going to do? Stuff me into the trunk of a car and crash into a tree?”
The blonde woman paled a little and looked over her shoulder at her brunette friend.
“That’s not what’s happening here, is it?” Suddenly House’s get-the-hell-out-of-there instinct kicked in, about a million years too late, he thought dryly.
The blonde laughed loudly, big booming ha-ha-has that were obviously unnatural for her. “No.”
House rolled her eyes. “Look, promise not to kill me and I’ll be on my merry way.”
The blonde narrowed her eyes and cast another glance at the other woman. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, jabbering away on her cell phone and drawing pictures in the dirt. She looked back at him quizzically and House felt himself growing impatient. “Take a picture, it lasts longer.”
The leggy brunette sauntered over just then. “She’s mad. She says she’ll come get us but the cover-up’s up to us.”
“Great, so what the hell is going on here?”
“No, lie to me, please. That’s why I asked you what the hell
is going on here?”
“Can’t we just like, knock him unconscious? Got a frying pan?”
“No! He’s human. Besides, you said this road’s abandoned. No one will find him down here. He could die.”
“Hey! Quit that!” Suddenly strong hands lifted House off his motorcycle and planted him firmly on the ground. “You are not going anywhere.” The blonde declared.
“But mommy, I promise I’ll be good.”
“I don’t like you.”
“That’s too bad, I’m in love with you. Please, please take me to your lair.”
“You’re a DOCTOR
Two pairs of eyes turned to where the brunette woman was holding his wallet.
“Oh goody, you steal too.”
“No more pickpocketing!”
“Relax, I wasn’t going to run off with your stuff Greg. Can I call ya Greg? Right then, Greg, we’re going to leave now. You’re not going to tell the police this ever happened because honestly, they won’t believe you. Andddddd” she dragged out the last syllable, hitting a hard ‘d’ at the end, “my blonde traveling companion will not try to knock you unconscious.”
House scowled. “Because I’m inclined to trust pickpockets and arsonists.”
“Please, that’s going to be ruled as an accident. And you’ll do it if you want these drugs back.”
She waved the bottle in his face, and his demeanor changed instantly.
House started to make some sort of clever comeback when he was interrupted by a redhead who had appeared from nowhere.
“You guys are always taking the easy way out, gosh. Faith, you promised me you weren’t going to set the car on fire. But no, you had to just crash it into a tree and Giles is going to be very upset and well, Xander’s going to enjoy this, but you can’t just rip off the federal government because it would be easier than – “
The cheerful blonde tossed House his pills and the brunette winked at him before both women took the hands of the newcomer.
“Thanks a bunch Greg, you’ve been a doll.”
He blinked once, and they were all gone, leaving him on the side of the road, clutching his vicodin, and staring at an automobile fire.
He blinked again to make sure he wasn’t crazy, but the fire was there, burning cheerfully as it mocked him.
He looked at his hands and then at his pills, and he threw back two of them, just for good measure.
And then he did the only thing he could think of to do. He limped to his bike, and he went home.