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"Is this a joke?" House bellowed, pointing his cane at the yellow strips of caution tape stretched across the gaping holes where elevator doors would normally live.
Dr. Cuddy stalked over from the stairs, sighing tiredly. "No, it's not a joke. The elevators have to be repaired, then inspected again before they can be used."
House scowled at her. "So, who did you hire to haul handicapped or otherwise immobilized patients between floors?" He was obviously not thrilled with this prospect.
She gave him a displeased look. "The elevators by the E.R. passed inspection. And the ones in the surgical wing. All the others required repairs." Her voice hissed with exasperation.
"I think I'll take the stairs," he groaned and crutched himself in that direction. He tucked his nose over his shoulder, "Or I can hold any differentials in the lobby," he suggested.
Cuddy countered with, "Or, you can spend your day in the clinic."
Suddenly the walk up the four flights of stairs seemed much more appealing. He tugged himself up the first two. "I'm definitely consulting my attorney about the treatment of cripples in this hospital!" he crowed across the lobby.
Like some mythical creature, Stacy appeared on the landing above him. "And your attorney will tell you to use the elevator in the E.R. if the stairs are too much for you."
When he reached the landing, he stopped to square off against Stacy. "But that would mean having to walk an additional fifty feet to that elevator, then the additional fifty feet back to the elevator I normally use, plus my usual walk to my office." He was sure to accentuate the words 'additional', 'usual' and 'plus'.
Stacy, hand on her hip, glared at him. "You have to walk at least that far to get to my office, Greg."
"Who's side are you on anyway?" he grumbled.
"The hospital's. That's my job. Not bending regulations for you."
"I don't know why not," he spoke out of the corner of his mouth, "it's what Cuddy does."
Stacy smirked at him. "Not at the expense of the safety of others in the building."
"You are no fun. I'm getting a new lawyer," he huffed.
"If anyone will take you," she fired back.
He smiled that evil smile of his and pushed his way past her to start up the next flight of stairs, a deep pang of nostalgia stabbing him in the gut. He's sorely missed sparring with Stacy. 'Especially when the end result was a marathon session in his bed. Why the hell did she have to come back here?