Karen

for milkshake_b:

Foreman pushed back the shower curtain, and then he paused. "What are you doing?" he asked House, who was standing in the shower stall and playing with a video game.

"Hiding," said House.

"From what?"

"And you," continued House, "are compromising my hiding spot. Get in or go away."

Foreman glanced thoughtfully at the shower stall to his left. He took a step forward, and House reached with his cane and shut the curtain again.

"What are we hiding from?" whispered Foreman.

"Cuddy. She thinks I owe her clinic hours."

There was a moment of silence. "You're a madman," Foreman said. "I'm not getting involved with this." He started moving towards the curtain, but House grabbed his arm.

"Quiet. Do you hear that?"

The door to the changing room opened, letting in some of the noise from the hall. Then it shut again, and Foreman could hear the click of shoes walking over the floor.

"Damn," said House. "She's found us." He wedged himself closer to the wall and turned on the shower.

"Ahhh! Shit!" said Foreman. The shoes stopped for a few seconds. Then the clack grew louder, heading towards them.

"Dr. Foreman? Is that you?"

"Dr. Cuddy?" said Foreman. He held up a hand to stop the water from hitting him in the face, and it ran up his sleeve instead.

"Are you all right in there?" asked Cuddy.

Foreman glared at House. House raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah," he said. "I just, uh, turned the water on too cold."

"I see," said Cuddy. "You wouldn't happen to have seen House lately, have you?"

House mimed beating someone down with his cane. "Have you tried his office?"

"It's funny," said Cuddy. "I must have missed that one. I usually check the locker room first."

No one spoke for a moment, except House who muttered, "I bet." Finally Foreman said, "Don't you have your own change room?"

"They're *all* my rooms," said Cuddy. She added, "If you do see House, tell him he owes me clinic hours."

"Sure," said Foreman. He listened to her shoes walk back into the hallway, and then he shut the water off. He turned to yell at House, but House stepped by him into the room beyond. House brushed a small amount of spray from his jacket, but otherwise he was still fairly dry. The shower-head had been aimed at Foreman.

"I hate you," Foreman said conversationally, as water dripped down his pant legs and pooled in his shoes.

"I know," said House. He looked down at his video game, concerned, and wiped the screen on his sleeve.

*