Chapter Text
It was a typical day at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Dr. Greg House slouched in his office chair, a mixture of boredom and bitterness painted across his face as he picked at a rubber band. He was on a roll of diagnosing patients with his usual flair–cutting through all the tests, ignoring the doctors, and leaping straight to the conclusions, like a genius trapped in a sardonic game show.
“House,” Dr. Cuddy’s voice interrupted his intense rubber band session. “We’ve got a new specialist joining the hospital.”
House didn’t bother looking up. “What’s that supposed to mean? Another overachiever looking for validation?”
Dr. Cuddy raised an eyebrow. “Hematology and Pulmonology.”
House finally lifted his head. His eyes narrowed. “Oh, she has two specialities? What is she, some kind of superhero?”
Cuddy smiled, almost smugly. “She’s brilliant, House. I’m assigning her to your team. Maybe you’ll learn something.”
House’s gaze turned colder than the medical textbook that lay abandoned on his desk. “And I’m supposed to be excited about that because…?”
“Because she’s going to be working with you,” Cuddy replied, with a certain gleam in her eye.
House raised a brow. “Meaning you want me to train her? Teach her the fine art of constant disappointment?”
“No, no,” Cuddy chuckled. “She’ll be working on the cases with you. Helping you out. But I’m sure she’ll be a challenge.”
The way Cuddy said “challenge” made House’s skin crawl. He squinted at her. “You’re trying to knock me off my throne, aren't you?”
Cuddy gave him a knowing look, then turned to leave. “Just don’t break her too quickly, okay? She’s tough. She can handle you.”
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The door swung open and, and in walked Alessia Mayfair, a confident stride in her step. She was dressed in a lab coat that fit her as though she was born in it, hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, and a look of determination that could have cracked an iceberg.
House didn’t bother standing up. He swiveled in his chair, raising an eyebrow at her. “You’re the new kid, huh? Got a magic trick up your sleeve or are you just here to pass the time and break my heart?”
Alessia didn’t flinch. “Alessia Mayfair. And you must be Dr. Gregory House. The infamous diagnostician”
“Infamous?” House smirked. “Nice way to start things off with a compliment. Points for that.”
Alessia leaned casually against the doorframe. “I was thinking of calling you ‘The Mad Genius’, but I didn’t want to get your ego too inflated.”
House’s face twisted slightly in confusion. “That’s funny…did you just make a joke?”
“Is that what it takes to get a reaction from you?” Alessia replied, matching his tone. “Make jokes?”
House paused, genuinely stunned. It wasn’t often that people walked into his office and immediately knocked him out of his snarky zone. He could almost feel his self-confidence waver…but he quickly pushed it down.
He looked her over with a pointed glance. “I’m sure you’ve got some shiny credentials. But if you think you’re going to out-diagnose me, we’re going to have a problem. I can’t have my throne taken by some fresh-faced wunderkind.”
Alessia crossed her arms and smiled. “We’ll see. I’m not here to outshine you, House. I’m here to make sure you don’t get too comfortable in your little kingdom.”
House gave her a long, appraising stare, trying to read her. “Is that so? I like a challenge. But don’t get too cocky. This isn’t a place for amateurs.”
Alessia smirked, walking past him towards the board where the current patient case was written. “Ameteur? Hardly. I’ve been trained by the best…but I guess we’ll find out who’s the real genius here, won’t we?”
House’s expression shifted from mild annoyance to intrigued curiosity. He had met many doctors in his time, but few had the audacity to come at him like this.
They were joined by Cuddy, who stood in the doorway, watching the exchange with a knowing smile. “Have fun, House. She’s all yours.”
House didn’t even bother to respond. Instead, he gestured towards the whiteboard, his usual manner returning. “Fine. Let’s see if you can make sense of this mess. We’ve got a 43-year-old male with a lung infection that refuses to respond to any antibiotics. Dizziness, unexplained bruising, elevated white blood count, and a history of unexplained shortness of breath.”
Alessia stepped up to the board, inspecting the symptoms. She didn’t immediately dive into her medical bag of tricks like House expected. Instead, she folded her arms, turned to him, and casually said. “Okay, it’s a classic case of acute myelogenous leukemia, but with a twist. Could be paraneoplastic syndrome–lungs acting up because of an undetected cancer. Bet you missed that part.”
House’s eyes widened slightly. “I…didn’t miss it. I was just testing you.”
Alessia smirked, not buying it. “Sure you were. But I’m pretty sure you’re just trying to cover for the fact that you didn't think of it first.”
House scowled. He hated being one-upped, especially so easily. He glared at her, but deep down he couldn’t help but admire her confidence.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Mayfair.” he muttered, more to himself than to her.
Alessia didn’t respond–she just took her place at the board, marker in hand, ready to prove that her place in this hospital was earned.
And House was left standing there, feeling a strange, unsettling sensation that hadn’t made an appearance in a long time–he was being outsmarted.
And it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. But it sure was annoying.