New Jersey.
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.
Dr. House just got hit with a sharp comeback from Adam's razor tongue, leaving him momentarily speechless.
Tough break.
Adam went straight for the jugular—brutal, precise, and oh-so-painful. Ouch! 😬
"…Anyway, Dr. House, you're welcome to drop by tomorrow night's party anytime," Adam said, easing off a bit.
He figured it was best to cut the old-timer some slack.
Respecting your elders is a classic virtue, right? 😉
"Not interested," House snapped, hanging up the phone without a second thought.
"Was that Dr. Adam Duncan from New York Medical Center?"
Wilson, House's best buddy standing nearby, had already pieced together Adam's identity from the convo. "He's working on that virus-to-kill-tumors clinical research? Man, that kid's something else. 😮
They've always said he's destined to be the next big legend in medicine, and wow, he's living up to the hype!
Where are you off to?"
Seeing House grab his cane and head for the door, Wilson—knowing his friend's bad habits—quickly grabbed his arm.
"He's worried about this old geezer, so how can I, as said geezer, not return the favor?" House smirked, tapping Wilson's hand lightly with his cane. "Everyone lies, but the truth's always buried in those lies. I'm gonna dig up Adam Duncan's truth, then have a nice little chat with him. He's interesting—I hope he stays that way."
"Don't do it!" Wilson pleaded. "He's not your average guy. You can't just waltz up to his place like you used to, pick the lock with a wire, and rummage through his private stuff to dig up dirt.
He's not just some brilliant young doctor—he's a self-made billionaire!
A billionaire, House!
Piss him off, and with all your rule-breaking antics, even Cuddy won't be able to save your ass.
Plus, from what I heard in that call, he doesn't exactly sound like Mr. Sunshine either."
"Doesn't that just make it more fun?" House grinned, brushing Wilson's hand off with his cane.
Ring ring!
The phone chimed right on cue.
"Hello?" Wilson let go and picked up the landline. "Dr. Duncan?"
House, halfway out the door, froze and glanced back.
"Of course, I've got time," Wilson said, nodding after a quick look at House.
After some small talk, he hung up.
"That was Adam Duncan. He invited me to tomorrow night's party," Wilson explained, giving House a pointed look.
"Sneaky bastard," House said, his grin widening. "Sharp-tongued, cunning, and crazy talented—he's basically my dream Watson!"
"Sneaky?" Wilson raised an eyebrow.
"He knows you're my best friend," House chuckled. "Inviting you isn't just about you—it's a threat to me. Show up, or he'll latch onto you, buddy up, and use it to mess with me. That's not sneaky?"
"Why can't it just be because I'm a damn good oncologist?" Wilson huffed, clearly annoyed.
"…Okay, rewind," House said, quickly recapping his entire chat with Adam. "He even knows about Stacy (House's ex-wife). You think he doesn't know you're my best—and only—friend? He's clinging to you to force me to face him."
House didn't exactly have a bustling social life—aside from donating to broke college girls who couldn't afford tuition, Wilson was his only real hangout buddy. Anything involving Wilson? He cared way too much.
"…" Wilson's mouth twitched. He couldn't picture the warm, approachable Adam having such a scheming side. This guy was practically a second snarky House! 😅
"Fine, maybe he's a little sneaky," Wilson admitted. "But that just proves my point—he's not someone you can mess with. Look at how he hit back. He's not just moody; he's downright devious and holds a grudge like nobody's business."
"Exactly why I said he's interesting!" House laughed. "Unless you're gonna turn him down?"
"…It's a medical networking thing. I already said yes—how can I back out now?" Wilson deflected politely.
Not to mention, Adam's invite was warm and genuine, and now that Wilson knew the guy was loaded, talented, and a bit ruthless, he wasn't about to risk ticking him off.
"There you go," House said, shoving the door open with his cane. "Next time I see him, I can't show up knowing nothing about him. That'd be way too boring."
He limped out, cane in tow.
"It's pointless!" Wilson called, shutting the door and jogging to catch up. Walking side by side, he kept trying to talk sense into House. "He's a legit billionaire. Forget getting near his place—
even if you did, you think his door's some basic lock you can jimmy open with a couple wires?
Get real.
It's probably an electronic lock with passwords, fingerprints, facial recognition—the works.
You're not getting in."
"Now that's the real challenge," House said, pausing mid-step to lean on his cane and think.
He was confident he could sweet-talk his way past a doorman to reach a fancy apartment door, but cracking an electronic lock? That was trickier.
Even if he hired a pro and threw in extra cash, no one would dare mess with a billionaire.
Yeah, this was a problem.
"So just come with me tomorrow night," Wilson said, relieved to see House hesitate. "Dr. Duncan might be a little snarky, but you started it. We could all just talk medicine—why make it a showdown?"
"You're so dull," House shot back, giving Wilson a disappointed look before lifting his cane and hobbling on.
"Where are you going now?" Wilson asked, a bad feeling creeping up.
"I might not be able to sneak into his apartment," House said, a sly grin spreading across his face, "but snooping through someone's private life doesn't always mean breaking in. I just remembered something that'll solve this little puzzle."
"No!" Wilson groaned, trailing House into his office.
That bad feeling was getting worse.
"Work time!" House announced, barging in and tossing his cane onto his desk. He turned to his "three ducklings" (his nickname for his team—three apprentices who followed him around like ducklings trailing their mom).
"Get me a New York phone book!
Cameron, you're calling every Rachel you find—ask if she knows Ross and Phoebe.
Chase, you're on Phoebe duty—ask if she knows Rachel and Ross.
Foreman…"
"I'm guessing I call every Ross and ask if he knows Rachel and Phoebe?" Foreman, the middle-aged Black doctor, grumbled sarcastically.
"You catch on quick," House said with a smirk. "Well? Get moving!"
"Why?" Cameron and Chase were already on it, but Foreman wasn't budging. "This doesn't even sound like real work!"
"I decide what's real work—you work for me!" House reminded him.
"Alright, House, chill," Wilson jumped in, trying to keep things from escalating. "Who are these people? Why are you looking for them?"
"Good question," House said, grinning. "I just remembered—Adam's name isn't new to me. Four years ago, on a flight to London, I met this chatty woman…"
(Chapter End)