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18 January 2007 @ 08:21 pm
[locked] RP for dr_greghouse_md  
[ooc: continued from here. this is pre-infarction House and Stacy, so nobody gets confused. it's a project of ours]
When Friday came around, Stacy hated herself for being nervous.

She attempted to deny it and just ignore it, but as the day went on, she found herself increasingly looking forward to making an attempt at having some kind of social life, particularly with this man, Greg, who just-- she couldn't even explain it and she wasn't about to try. But there was something about him that made her feel less insane for jumping into this so quickly.

Standing in front of her closet, she settled on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket, because he'd said for her to wear something comfortable-- and besides, he didn't seem like the kind of guy that would put on a suit and take a girl out to a fancy French dinner. Which, somehow, she found herself liking-- he was laid back and didn't take himself too seriously. And he was funny, though going back between first and third person had been confusing.

He was running a few minutes late after she got ready-- somehow, she wasn't surprised, and she killed some time by cleaning, which was a nervous habit of hers, for some reason. But she finally sat down, putting on her shoes and grabbing her purse. She was ready-- all she needed was her date for the night.

But he hadn't come yet.

So she sat down, turning on the television to kill time.

[ooc: slowtimed, due to the fun of different time zones]
 
 
 
Dr. Gregory House: b&w house and stacydr_greghouse_md on January 19th, 2007 05:11 am (UTC)
House pulled up outside the townhouse in his car and stopped the engine. He looked at his watch - about ten minutes late - before he threw the door to his second-hand, scratched and dented BMW open and climbed out.

He was just dressed in jeans, a faded black t-shirt that had some random slogan written across the front about Pilsener beer and a jacket. He slammed the door shut, locked the door (the BMW was the kind of old where he had to use a key to lock the car, as opposed to any remote central locking), and he made his way up to the front door.

Nice place. Typical well-off, single female do - upmarket without being over the top. Tasteful. She obviously earned a decent wage. He balled his hand into a fist and knocked on the door in a staccato rhythm that sounded like he was drumming out a quick tune.

He stood back and pushed his hands into his pockets as he turned around to look down the street, waiting for the door to be answered.
Stacy Warner: stacy 2harvard_law on January 19th, 2007 05:19 am (UTC)
When she heard the knock, she stood up far too quickly, turning off the TV and grabbing her bag. And then, in a last-minute thought, she decided to forego it-- she didn't know what he was planning-- and just grabbed her phone from inside it, sliding it into her pocket. It was all she'd need.

And then she went to the door, opening it. It was him.

"Hi."

For a moment, she didn't know what to do, like she had when she'd left the bar-- kiss his cheek? Shake his hand?-- but again, she decided for none of those things, and stepped out instead.

"So you did come," she said, smirking and teasing him as she locked the door. "I was afraid that your assistant, the one carrying out all your surveys about the pheromones-- fascinating things, by the way-- would relay the message to you."
Dr. Gregory House: boo!dr_greghouse_md on January 19th, 2007 05:24 am (UTC)
House turned his head quickly when he heard the sound of footsteps near the front door, and then half-turned towards it when the door opened.

He flashed Stacy an obnoxious grin. He actually felt nervous, really - and to counteract that he demonstrated otherwise by putting on an obnoxious act. "Hey," he greeted in return.

He stepped back as she moved out to shut the door, and he smirked, pulling his hands out of his pockets. "That assistant of mine is pretty reliable. He passed the message on pretty much straight away. Stacy Miller, right?"
Stacy Warner: heart conditionharvard_law on January 19th, 2007 05:27 am (UTC)
She nodded.

"Yeah."

She stuffed her keys into her pocket and then walked down the steps with him. He had that smirk on his face, and she found herself looking him over-- jeans and old t-shirts seemed to be what he liked wearing, as he was wearing something similar at the bar the other night.

But it was the smugness, the confidence of that smirk that kept pushing at her, somehow. And made her even more attracted to him.

"So where are we going, then?" she asked, watching him. "I almost regret telling you that I'd attempted paintball."
Dr. Gregory House: touchdr_greghouse_md on January 19th, 2007 05:33 am (UTC)
House pulled his keys out of his pocket and looked down at them as he sorted through them for the car key. He then looked across at Stacy with a half-grin. "You'll probably regret telling me most things," he replied.

Not explaining what he meant by that, House leaned down and unlocked her door. "As for where we're going," he continued. He opened the door - it made a screeching sound as the slightly rusty hinges groaned in protest - and held the door open for her.

House looked back to Stacy. "You'll see. Hop in."
Stacy Warnerharvard_law on January 19th, 2007 05:37 am (UTC)
She cocked an eyebrow when he opened the car of the door.

"And they say chivalry's dead."

Somehow, it didn't seem like something he would do, but she was pleasantly surprised-- every woman liked those small gestures every now and then. Smiling slightly at him, she stepped forward, brushing against him as she stepped up to the car door, sitting down.

Normally, she'd insist that he tell her where they were going, considering he was being far too vague for her liking. Due to her job, she was never too excited about surprises, but she decided she'd humor him.

"Let's go, then."
Dr. Gregory House: b&w house and stacydr_greghouse_md on January 19th, 2007 05:51 am (UTC)
House slammed the door shut and jogged around the front of the car to the driver side. He unlocked his door, yanked the squeaky door open and the got into the car quickly. Slamming the door loudly, House reached his key towards the ignition, glancing at Stacy again.

He then looked down at her feet and pulled a 'whoops, I should've cleaned that out' look. "Mind the... stuff," he said, motioning to the empty cans of drink, chip packets and other bits of debris that he'd not bothered to clean out of his car.

Dismissively looking away, he started the car and indicated to pull out of the curb. House was a bit of a lunatic driver - the kind that made fast swerves and drove too fast around corners. At least, in this old junk bucket he was. Sure, he could afford to buy a new, expensive car like any doctor could, but he didn't want to be like any doctor. There were no doctors he knew that had beaten up pieces of scrap metal to drive around.

"You like Steely Dan?" he asked as he glanced over his shoulder quickly to check his blind spot before he swung out fast and started to drive down the street.
Stacy Warner: h/s hugharvard_law on January 19th, 2007 05:56 am (UTC)
Her hand moved to the seat, grabbing it as he swung the car fast out of he parking lot and started to drive-- he certainly wasn't a careful driver.

She managed to stop gripping the seat long enough to register his question.

"I listen to them every now and then," she said, recognizing the name of the jazz band. She wasn't really a fan-- music was something she liked, but wasn't a huge part of her life. Though she was interested in what he had planned-- if he liked jazz, she was certainly all the more interested in him.

Turning to him, she was about to ask another question when she felt something brush against her leg, and she looked down-- it was an empty chip bag, which she picked up and moved into the backseat before looking at him and continuing the conversation.

"Why?"
Dr. Gregory House: smugdr_greghouse_md on January 19th, 2007 06:09 am (UTC)
Without answering her question, House reached forward and hit the on button on his car stereo - a top of the range CD stacker, because even though his car was crap, he wanted a good sound system - and the tunes of Steely Dan's 'Black Friday' came blasting out of the speakers.

Maybe a little too loud. "Whoops," he said, fumbling with the volume knob without looking away from the road. He lowered the volume and then sat back, dropping his hand to his thigh.

He then looked across to her. "That's why," he said.

Flicking the indicator down with his middle finger, House took a sharp turn around a corner and bombed down the street. "So, what're your thoughts on cholesterol?" he randomly asked. He looked back across to her. "Do you have a problem with it?"
Stacy Warnerharvard_law on January 19th, 2007 06:13 am (UTC)
She cocked an eyebrow.

"You want to know my thoughts on cholesterol?"

The question was unbelievably random-- at least, to her, though she assumed that he had some sort of a point to asking it, even though he might not tell her exactly what it was.

"Why? Are you looking for new material for your surveys?" she asked, then added, "And to answer the question, no. I don't have a problem with cholesterol," she said. "In moderation. I'll assume you're not planning to put me in danger of having a heart attack or anything."
Dr. Gregory House: so housedr_greghouse_md on January 19th, 2007 06:25 am (UTC)
"Wouldn't be much of a date if I did that, would I?" House replied. He came to an abrupt stop at a stop sign, looked both ways and then pulled out fast onto the main road. Once he'd gained speed, he looked back across at Stacy again.

"Well, I'm going to have smalltalk about something, might as well make it something totally random and seemingly pointless, without discussing the weather."

He looked back to the road again, changing lanes. "LDL lipoprotein, that's bad cholesterol. It deposits cholesterol on the artery walls. Causes cholesterol plaque, which results in build up and increased risk of heart attack."
Stacy Warner: black and whiteharvard_law on January 19th, 2007 06:30 am (UTC)
Her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out exactly what the hell he was talking about-- not many other men she'd met went on a tangent about cholesterol and how exactly it builds up to increase chances of a heart attack, so this was certainly unique.

"I'm going to assume you have a point."

Looking out at the street, she had absolutely no idea where he was taking her, since she'd rarely been in this particular area before. So she abandoned that and continued.

"In case you don't, my next topic of conversation is going to be your driving skills," she said, gripping the seat again when he stopped abruptly. "Or lack thereof."
Dr. Gregory House: lacrosse time!dr_greghouse_md on January 19th, 2007 06:40 am (UTC)
"I like showing off my hotrod," House replied, swerving around a corner into another street that was leading them down towards a seedier part of town. "No one appreciates a 1986 BMW like I do."

Coming to a stop at another red light, House sat back on the seat and looked across at Stacy, watching the way she looked tense; as though she didn't trust his driving. "It's okay. I haven't had an accident in over five years. You can relax."
Stacy Warner: stacy 2harvard_law on January 19th, 2007 06:45 am (UTC)
She nodded, making the attempt to relax, laughing at his earlier comment-- his car certainly wasn't what she expected. He was a doctor, a specialist, and she was sure he made more than enough money to buy himself a much nicer car.

"I don't mind the car."

Looking at him, she let a smile-- or maybe it was a smirk-- settle on her lips, her gaze meeting his when he stopped at the red light.

"I find that most men that have overly fancy or flashy cars feel as though they have to compensate for something else."
Dr. Gregory House: b&w house and stacydr_greghouse_md on January 19th, 2007 06:52 am (UTC)
"That's big cars you're talking about. The size of the car is proportional to the size of the penis. That's the feminist theory, anyway. Sadly, they're most true."

The light turned green again and House pulled off fast, driving down the street which was quickly turning into more run down cafes, stores and abandoned buildings.

"Flashy, on the other hand, is a status of importance. A whole 'look at me, aren't I great' complex. It takes away from them as a person so that people are left admiring the car instead of the dickwad that's driving it."

He swung down another street and then suddenly pulled into the curb. As he killed the engine, he pointed at a greasy-looking open-fronted sandwich bar that sold hamburgers dripping with fat.

"Cholesterol in a bun. Told you I had a point. Wouldn't want to get you food that'll clog up your arterial walls."
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