Everybody Lies [James Wilson/OC, a House M.D Love Story]

Chapter Two: The Consult

It was late, but I was still up, my beautiful black Gibson Les Paul Traditional Bigsby on my lap as I softly strummed the cords to AC/DC's Back in Black. Unlike my brother, I didn't use my amp this late at night, I actually had respect for our neighbors. I had a cigarette between my teeth as I played, I'm sure I looked very classy.

My strumming was interrupted by the shrill ringing of my cell phone, making me flinch slightly and strike the wrong the chord. Sighing, I carefully placed down my Les Paul, which I affectionately call Steve (after Steve Jones, guitarist for the Sex Pistols, who also played a Les Paul) and picked up my cell phone, checking the ID and pressing answer while using my free hand to take the cigarette out of my mouth.

"You made me fuck up the bridge to Back in Black. This better be good." I spoke seriously, but my brother would know I was joking.

"Need you to come to the hospital." He said, sounding exasperated.

"Cuddy taking all your money?" I guessed.

"I'm not at the tournament anymore. Caught a case in the ER. Six year old boy presents with GI bleed, double vision, after an intestinal biopsy--"

"You were thinking Erdheim-Chester?" I asked, feeling the intensity in his voice even through the phone and knowing that this was no longer a time for joking.

"Test was negative. After the biopsy, kid went into renal failure. We scanned his head and found a mass near his pituitary, the team's testing for lymphoma now. But we're running out of ideas and we could use another pair of hands." He explained.

"Sure. I'll be there in 10." I said, standing up and making my way toward my bedroom to put on a pair of jeans.

"Make it 20." He said, causing me to pause in my doorway, "Even though you're not going to the charity event, you won't get through the door if you aren't in a dress."

I sighed and rested my forehead against my door frame, "You want me to put on a dress, hop on my motorcycle, and meet you in your office to help you diagnose a patient that died 12 years ago?" He was silent for a few moments, so I continued, "This kid, his symptoms are presenting the exact way Esther's did, right?"

He was silent for a few more seconds, and then he said quietly, "You don't have to take your motorcycle. You can take the Volkswagen."

I laughed lightly as I walked into my room and started sifting through my closet, holding my phone between my ear and shoulder, "Sure, because a girl dressed up hopping out of a beat up VW Bus just screams 'classy broad'. Don't worry about me. I'll figure something out and I'll be there in 20."

"Alright." I was about to hang up when I heard him say loudly enough for me to hear him, "Hey!"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, Wendy."

I clicked my tongue appreciatively, "Love ya."

I could hear him smirking over the phone, "As much as you love Wilson?"

I hung up.

~~~

I walked into my brother's office feeling more uncomfortable than I'd felt in a long time. The little black dress hugged my figure nicely, but I was never one for dressing up anyways. Why did I even own this dress?

I saw my brother and his team in the outer office, my brother writing on the whiteboard an arrow pointing downward and then respiratory distress.

I opened the door and walked in, announcing my presence with, "He skipped over symptoms?"

"Probably from the cocktail of drugs we gave him to protect his liver." Cameron said as all of their attention went to me.

"Glad you're here. We're officially out of ideas." My brother said as he sat the marker down.

"It could still be some type of cancer!" Cameron argued, "We ruled out lymphoma, but a cancer of the blood could--"

"NEW ideas." House snapped, "I'm the only one who gets to recycle."

"If cancer of the blood hasn't been ruled out, there's no reason to take it off the table." I said, "You should consult an oncologist."

My brother smirked at me, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I rolled my eyes as he continued, "Where do you find a good oncologist at this hour?" He said, sarcastically as he opened the door and went into his own office.

It was silent in the room for a moment, so I took a breath and sat down in a chair between Chase and Cameron.

"You look good." Chase said quickly.

I glanced at him with a slight blush and arched my eyebrow, smirking playfully at him, "Thanks. I'm extremely uncomfortable, though. I don't usually do dresses."

"Why not? You look awesome." He commented.

"Because I don't usually do underwear." I said with a serious tone in my voice but a Cheshire grin on my face. His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed, and I heard Cameron and Foreman snicker as he stuttered to say anything else.

"I admire you." Cameron said, still snickering at Chase gaping like a fish.

"Aw, shucks. You're a doll." I said with a grin as I turned to her and pinched her cheek lightly.

House stuck his head in the door, "Wilson's coming up for a consult. I suggest you find a mirror. You have helmet hair."

"Shut up." I said, blandly.

"Woah, woah, wait." Foreman said, "Wendy has a crush on Wilson?"

"A crush? What is this, 5th grade?" I asked, "I want to have extremely aggressive and kinky sex with my brother's best friend."

The disgusted look I got from House was totally worth the internal humiliation I felt now that the rest of the team knew.

"I could have gone the rest of my life without hearing that sentence." He said.

"Not if you continuously mock me about it. I'm your sister, you knew I'd say something to intentionally gross you out eventually." I smirked, and the rest of the fellows chuckled, "Hey, speaking of grossing people out, there's a sick kid we still have to diagnose, remember?"

Realizing I was right, everyone quickly turned serious once again.