The Art of Subconscious Illusion: Rewritten (Death NotexHouse, MD crossover)

An Epic of Time Wasted

Full Summary: The rewritten version of the original well-loved fic, this portrays the story of the fight between House the diagnostician and the mental patient who calls himself Kira. One week is all that is allotted for him and his team to save Kira from the world and himself…and House's neck is on the line.

A/N: Now that I can host this fic on here, you can imagine the excitement I’m feeling, knowing that the word is out that Death Note and House, MD can and do work quite well together. Hopefully, you will feel the same way too, and have something nice to say about it, although I’d be perfectly happy if you didn’t have anything nice to say at all, and all you want to do is tell me how foolish I must have been at the time to believe that this fic could actually be of any good at all.

So once again, tell me what you think, please R&R, and there will be another chapter here shortly.

Chapter II

An Epic of Time Wasted

September 7th, 2006

It was 8 AM when Dr Lisa Cuddy, making her usual morning rounds of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, walked into the infamous Dr Gregory House's office, the orange rays of a New Jersey sunrise falling through the glass windows. She wasn't at all surprised to see the casually dressed miserable coot lazing about on his swivel chair, his feet resting upon the desk, and his Nintendo DS firmly in his hands. She guessed he was playing on his Mario Karts racing game, as he was moving the DS to and fro, like an F1 driver would his steering wheel.

Pacing the room silently, while waiting for House to notice the intruder in his office, she began moving papers around on his desk, skim reading a couple and putting them into neat piles – she knew that it would drive him crazy later when she'd remind him about the paperwork deadline and he wouldn't be able to find anything he needed. As she was the administrator, and therefore House's boss, it was her job to make sure that he was 'kept on his toes' (or would that be his cane?).

"Get out of here you crazy witch!" Cuddy turned to glare at him, her hand on her heart, startled by the sudden insult. She opened her mouth to shout something, but relaxed when she realised he was shouting at the console.

Hearing her intake of breath, house looked up from the console, to see Cuddy standing in his office, her hand still on her heart from the shock. "Oh, don't mind me," he said, smiling, "it's those blasted mushroom. You'd know what they're like!"

"No, I wouldn't," she said, her arms akimbo, "but what I do know is that you were meant to be starting your clinic hours about half an hour ago!"

"Oh, come on!" he said, not taking his eyes away from the DS, "it's not like they need me to get better – it's early September, so it'll just be colds and sniffles, and goodness knows what else!"

"So, I need you to figure out what that 'what else' is!"

"Fine then, Dr Cuddy: Give me one good reason why I should tend to the poor dears!"

"Okay…Number 1, someone puked in the Waiting Room and we've run out of the mops, so the patients will have to be tended to as quickly as possible. Number 2, a number of the kids are coughing up blood, and Number 3, if you don't get down there now, you'll be going without the cane!" And, quick as a flash, Cuddy leaned forward and picked up the wooden cane from where it laid against the table.

"Hmph!" He folded his arms and pouted mockingly, acting like the overgrown brat that Cuddy never had. "No fair! That was three reasons, and I'm pretty sure I requested just one!"

"Okay, so you give me three good reasons!"

"Absolutely!" House stood up at this, brandishing his finger at Cuddy. "Number 1, everybody lies. Number 2, every patient is so sure they've got something fatal, and can't stop fighting and Number 3…" House paused, pointing his finger at his own head and tapping it incessantly in an effort to make himself think, "Number 3…" he tried again, but still couldn't give something sure fire, "Number 3…aw crap, I'll do the clinic hours." He then sighed, holding up the proverbial white flag.