Teddy House Chapter 2
More of...this.
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As if being turned into a small plush toy wasn’t bad enough, House found that his new body was ticklish. He writhed helplessly as Wilson tried to measure around his waist.
Well, his middle region. Teddy bears didn’t exactly have waists. Among other things. “I don’t mention your shortcomings, you know.”
“What are you talking about? You mention my shortcomings all the time.”
“Not your shortcomings in the, you know, pants department,” House clarified.
“I don’t have shortcomings in that department,” Wilson said. “Okay, I think I’m ready to go. I think Wal-Mart is the only place that’s going to be open this early.” It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. “I’ll have to shop in the infants’ department.”
He’d been trying not to think about that. “Well, find me something cool.”
“I’ll try.”
Immediately after Wilson left, House realized he should have made him turn on the TV before he left. His apartment just wasn’t designed for someone fifteen and a half inches tall. He was lucky that he’d thrown his jacket over a chair instead of hanging it up. He’d just been able, by leaping in the air, to grab the sleeve and drag his jacket down to the floor. Then he’d been able to get at his cell phone--and, just as importantly, his bottle of Vicodin--that was in the pocket.
The surface of the coffee table was just over his head. If he had normal human body proportions, he’d have had a good chance of finding the remote by feeling around--but his teddy-bear arms were very short. He could only reach the very edge of the coffee table--and the remote wasn’t on the edge.
Fortunately, a copy of TV Guide was just within his reach. He’d already read all of the articles, but he settled down to do the crossword puzzle in his head.
Five minutes later he was bored again. He decided to call Wilson and see if he was at the store yet--but he was kicked immediately to voicemail. He must’ve turned it off to drive--or else he hadn’t turned it on at all. Wilson was always leaving his phone off, for some reason.
He flopped onto his back and folded his paws on his furry tummy. Being fifteen and a half inches tall really gave him a new perspective on things. For instance, he’d never before noticed how much dust and crud there was under his couch. Wilson really ought to vacuum under there every once in a while.
He wondered when it would be time to take another Vicodin. It had been less than an hour, but what was that in bear hours?
Probably not long enough. It might be difficult to get prescriptions filled while he was in bear form. He should conserve.
Screw that. Since his current predicament was all Wilson’s fault (if he hadn’t left his stupid shampoo in the bathroom….), he could be responsible for keeping House supplied with drugs until he was human again. He took another pill.
Heading back to the couch area, he found that he could slide across the floor on his bare feet. When he fell, he discovered that he could slide even faster on his fuzzy butt.
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“You got me a onesie?” It was surprising how much disgust teddy-House’s furry face was able to convey.
Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was what they had in your size.” He’d had to scour the store to find anything that wasn’t pastel and didn’t have baby animals on it. “I got two, so you have a choice.” One was plain red, and the other had “Chick Magnet” on the front.
“Great,” House said sarcastically. He kept digging through the bag. “I don’t think these will fit.” He held up a tiny pair of jeans.
“Yeah, neither do I,” Wilson admitted. House’s teddy-legs were pretty short. “There’s some shorts in there, too.” Since it was September, the store had had a wide selection of snow suits and heavy sweaters. Luckily, there had been a few pairs of shorts left on the clearance rack.
“Didn’t you get me any underwear?”
“They don’t have underwear in the baby section,” Wilson reminded him. “Unless you wanted a diaper.”
House wriggled with disgust. “I guess I’ll go commando.” He tugged on the “Chick Magnet” onesie and some blue shorts.
“I don’t think the shoes are going to fit either.” He’d gotten two pairs--sneakers and a pair of tiny sandals. The problem was that House’s bear-feet were sort of round, unlike the feet of a human infant.
House held the shoes up against his paws. “I guess I’ll have to go out in my bare feet. Har-har.”
“Yes, very funny.” Since he hadn’t woken up during the shopping trip, Wilson was beginning to suspect that this wasn’t, in fact, a dream. That only left two possibilities--either House had really turned into an animate teddy bear, or he was completely losing his mind. He wasn’t entirely sure which would be worse. “Are you ready to go, then?”
“Guess so.”
Wilson went back to the door and waited for House.
And waited.
And waited some more. Teddy-House had very short legs. It took him about five minutes to cross the room. “Maybe I’d better carry you to the car,” he suggested tactfully. “The grass is kind of wet.”
“Yeah, and we want to get there some time this week. Okay.”
Wilson considered how best to pick House up. A real teddy bear, he’d probably just grab by one paw, or maybe even by the head--but that wouldn’t be very comfortable for House, would it? Finally he picked him up with one hand under each of his arms. He expected House to be heavier than he looked--after all, he was walking and talking, so he’d have to have something in him other than polyester stuffing. But he only weighed as much as a regular teddy bear would. Wilson propped him on his hip like a toddler. “Okay?”
“Okay.” He noticed that House gripped his shirt in his paws.
Once in the car, he put House on the passenger seat and buckled the seat belt around him. If anyone was watching they’d think he was out of his mind, but he didn’t want teddy-House flying off the seat if he had to stop short.
They got to the hospital without incident. Wilson tried to stuff House into his briefcase to carry him inside, but House complained too much about being squished. Oh well--he had plenty of toys and stuff in his office. Probably no one would think anything of it, as long as House didn’t start insulting people. Wilson propped him on his hip again and headed into the building.
He was almost to his office when a young patient, walking down the hallway pushing an IV stand, saw him and waved enthusiastically. “Hi, Dr. Wilson!”
“Hi, Kendra!” he managed to answer enthusiastically. He didn’t know where she got her energy this early in the morning. Not to mention halfway through an eight-week course of chemo.
“I like your bear! Is he going to be friends with the one in your office?”
“Uh--yes!” Wilson answered. “I think they’ll be really good friends.”
“I bet they will too. It must be fun being a grownup. You can go to Build-A-Bear any time you want.”
Build-A-Bear--there was an idea. They’d have a different range of clothes to fit House’s new body. Maybe not better than the infants’ department, but different. “I guess you’re right,” he agreed.
“I only have Butterscotch Bear and Bunny Big Ears, and two outfits each. I got Butterscotch for Christmas and Bunny the first time I had to stay overnight at the hospital. Dad said after I’m done with this chemo they can each get a new outfit.”
“That’s great--I have to get to work, but maybe the bears can get together later, okay? Bye!”
“Bye!” Kendra called as he ducked into the office.
House punched him with one plushy paw. “Thanks a lot.”
“For what?”
“Making me a play-date with Butterscotch and Bunny.” House made a gagging sound.
“Oh, shit--I wasn’t even thinking. Well, I’ll drop off Doctor Bear in her room, and we’ll make up a reason you can’t go.” He put House down on the desktop. “I don’t know what we should do first.”
“Breakfast,” House said. “Only you’ll have to buy. I left my wallet in my human pants.”
“Yeah, okay.” Wilson had never had much expectation that House would be buying breakfast. “What do you want?”
“Anything--the last time I ate was macrobiotic vegan, remember?”
“Okay--just wait here.”
“Like I have a choice,” House said sourly, waving him out the door.
It wasn’t until Wilson was standing in line to pay for two coffees and a bag of pastries that it occurred to him to wonder how, exactly, teddy-House was going to eat anything. As far as Wilson could tell from his brief examination, he didn’t have a stomach or any other organs.
He was still pondering the problem when he reached the cashier. He went ahead and bought everything--if House couldn’t eat in plush form, he wouldn’t believe it until he’d tried, anyway.
When he got back to the office, several small items--Wilson’s stapler, a snow globe a box of tissues--were scattered on the floor in front of the desk where he’d left House, and the bear himself was in the act of drop-kicking a stress ball. “I see you’re behaving with your usual respect for other people’s property.”
“Gimme.”
Wilson handed over the pastry bag and one of the coffees. House picked up the coffee cup in both paws and took a big sip, then tore into the bag. Wilson watched closely, but the coffee didn’t seem to be leaking out through House’s fabric. “How can you eat? You don’t have a stomach.”
House shrugged his furry shoulders. “I don’t have lungs, either, but I can talk. One of those things.”
“I wonder if you can crap without an anus, or if I’m going to have to cut you open and scoop out soggy pastry scraps.”
“Guess we’ll have to wait and see,” House said cheerfully, not slowing his rate of Danish consumption.
Once House had put away his body weight in white flour and refined sugar, Wilson took out a stethoscope. “Stand up a minute, I want to try something.”
House pressed his paws to his chest. “What? Just because you’ve seen me naked, doesn’t mean I want to play doctor.”
“I want to hear if you have any digestive sounds,” he explained, putting the earpieces in his ears.
House tried his usual trick of tapping on the diaphragm, but with his soft paws, it didn’t work very well. No matter where Wilson put the diaphragm on his furry torso, he didn’t hear anything--no heartbeat, no lung sounds, and no stomach sounds either. “Anything?”
Wilson hung the stethoscope around his neck. “Nope.”
“Didn’t think so.” House drained the rest of his coffee. “What should we do now?”
Wilson glanced at his watch. It was after eight; Cuddy would be in. “I think we should go tell Cuddy.”
“No way.” House folded his arms across his chest.
“What’s your plan, then? How are we going to keep her from finding out?”
“We fix me, and there’s nothing to find out.”
“Fix you how?”
“Talk to Bella,” House said. “Find out what she did. Find out what it’ll take to make her fix me.”
“…okay,” Wilson agreed. He didn’t think it would be that easy--nothing with House was ever that easy--but it was a place to start. “You have her number?”
House gave him the number, and he called. He got an answering machine: “Hello, this is Bella. Just a reminder, sisters, meetings are Tuesdays at eight! Please leave a message, and have a blessed day.”
“Uh--hi. This is James Wilson. I’m friends with Greg House, and I’m a little concerned--”
There was a loud beep as the receiver was picked up. “Hello?”
“Good morning. I’m J--”
“Yeah, I heard. Listen, I suppose Greg asked you to call me?”
“Um…yes,” he admitted. She was unlikely to believe him if he denied it. “Any chance of you, uh….”
“Changing him back into a piece of two-legged human swine?” she suggested.
“Yes, that. Please.”
“He’ll turn back once he’s learned his lesson.”
Well, at least he wouldn’t be in teddy-bear form forever. “What lesson is that?”
“That’s for him to figure out.”
Damn. “Look, this can’t be legal.”
“Are you seriously thinking of calling the police and explaining that I turned your friend into a teddy bear?”
Good point. “Look, he can be an ass, I’m not denying that. But--”
“If he hasn’t figured it out in a year, I’ll think about reversing it. Until then, I’m deaf to your entreaties. Bye!”
The line went dead.
On to Chapter 3!