Fic: Sidekick (Kutner, Amber, Thirteen)
Jan. 2nd, 2008 08:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
swatkatBecause I was feeling silly.
Title: Sidekick
Fandom: House, M.D
Character(s): Kutner, Amber, Thirteen (gen. well, Amber/Thirteen if you're squinting like I am)
Words: 1370
Disclaimer: Not mine. Playing.
Summary: Kutner spots Amber in the parking lot. Thirteen won't be happy.
A/N: Set after 4.09, spoilers. Your thoughts/criticism will be cherished – I'm not known for my sensitive snowflake soul.
*
He spots her in the parking lot. In front of a car, inspecting its number plate.
It's been a week since the final rounds of eliminations. Kutner is officially an employee of Gregory House now – has a contract to prove it, and no, he's not gonna stop wanting to dance and sing at the thought anytime soon. Amber on the other hand isn't, because she got fired and stayed fired and therefore should have no legal reason to be here, inspecting number plates at the hospital parking lot on a chilly winter evening.
'Hey!' Her head snaps up when he calls out, and she looks ready to bolt should the need arise. 'It's me. Kutner.'
She visibly relaxes at that, and gives him a tight little smile that expresses exactly how not-happy she is to see him.
Kutner smiles back. 'What are you doing in here?'
'Looking for a car,' Amber says shortly before returning to her task.
'If you're looking for House's car, it's not here,' Kutner offers helpfully. 'Cuddy shifted it to the E lot. He went nuts over it. Said he'll go on strike if he doesn't have it shifted back by tomorrow.' He chuckles at the mental image – god he loves this place – before realising that it's Cut-throat Bitch he's talking to, and says, 'Uh, are you planning to plant a bomb inside his car or something?' She seems the type. Probably did that to her ex-boyfriends in high school. Which is kinda cool, in a scaryhot sort of way.
Not that he wants House to die or something.
Amber shoots him a Glare of Death, and says, 'I'm not looking for House's car.'
She keeps checking the number plates, however, so Kutner follows her around. Until she stops in front of a battered green sedan, checks the number plate, and checks it again, looking extremely pleased with herself.
Wait, isn't that - 'Thirteen's car?' Kutner says.
Amber does not deign to reply, but Kutner knows that car. Has been in it, in fact, on their way to their patient's house the other day.
'Are you… planning to plant a bomb inside Thirteen's car?' he has to ask. She seems the type. Probably did that to her enemies in high school. Which, again, is kinda cool, but he doesn't want Thirteen to die, either.
'No,' she says, rummaging inside her handbag. Which could definitely contain a bomb, no matter what Amber says, so Kutner cautiously inches closer, just in case he has to intervene.
What she fishes out, however, is not a bomb but a Slim Jim, not unlike the one he and Harry had used back in twelfth grade to confirm if Big Bill really had a gun in his glove cabinet.
Which she then proceeds to use with supreme proficiency.
'Can I have a look at that?' Kutner says as she opens the door.
'No.' She stuffs it back in her bag.
She slides inside, then. Rummages inside her handbag again, and brings out a screwdriver.
'You know how to hot-wire a car?'
'Learnt it in high school,' Amber shrugs.
She goes on to prove it, and all Kutner can say is, 'Wow. That's awesome.' Kinda hot, too.
Amber smirks.
'Are you doing this because House hired her back and not you?'
'Revenge is best served hot, don't you think?'
She's about to drive away when Kutner calls out, 'Listen!'
'What?'
'You, uh, wanna go for a drink?'
She flashes him a Super Mega Death Glare and zooms past him. He figures it was worth a try.
Thirteen won't be happy, though.
*
'My car is missing.'
Thirteen ambushes him on his way out the next evening.
Kutner stares at her. It's been an eventful day. Cuddy wouldn't shift House back to his old parking space and so House tried to picket in front of the clinic while she was meeting with some bigwig donors in her office. They were ordered to join in: Taub refused and Thirteen looked amused and Foreman came and yelled at them just when Kutner was about to suggest placards of some sort, for the effect. They had a patient after that, and things got a bit insane once she started leaking blood all over the place. There had been no mention of stolen and possibly blown to bits by now cars.
'Oh,' he says. Thirteen's stare is a bit unnerving, so he adds, 'Did you, you know, look properly?'
'It's been missing since last evening,' Thirteen says. 'I had to take a cab to work this morning.'
'Oh. Too bad. Did you, uh, inform the cops?'
'Not yet,' Thirteen says. 'Thought I'd do some investigating on my own.' Her eyes are very green. Kutner suddenly finds it very difficult to look her in the eye.
She keeps looking at him, and Kutner blurts, 'I didn't do it!'
'I didn't say you did.'
'Fine. It was Amber, okay?' says Kutner, raising his hands in surrender. 'She had a lockout tool and she hot-wired your car. I don't know where she took it.'
Thirteen nods. She does not appear particularly surprised. 'Let's go,' she says abruptly, grabbing hold of his hand and steering him towards the elevator.
'Where? And aren't you supposed to be observing?'
'Taub's observing. We're going to get my car back,' Thirteen says. She does not let go of his hand.
'I don't know where she lives,' Kutner protests weakly.
'I do,' she says, and there's no arguing after that.
*
Thirteen does appear to know where she's going, so Kutner refrains from asking questions, and soon they're in front of an apartment that Thirteen says belongs to Amber. Thirteen presses the doorbell; Kutner stands behind her in the foyer and hopes they won't have a catfight or something. Hot though it would be. With oil and tiny sequined bikinis, although it's kinda cold for that kind of thing. Maybe they'd warm each other up, with the –
Amber opens the door, relaxed and un-Amberlike in her pyjamas before she stiffens in recognition and narrows her eyes at them.
'Can I have my car back now?' Thirteen says without preamble. There's a little smile playing at the corner of her lips, almost amused.
Amber glares at Kutner. 'Knew you'd blab at the first opportunity,' she says.
'I didn't blab!' he protests, because he didn't. Technically. 'She… figured it out by herself. And then she ambushed me.'
Amber shoots him another dirty look, and says, 'Parking lot in the building across the street. If anyone asks, tell them my name. Oh, and you should get your silencer fixed, by the way.'
'Thanks. I will,' Thirteen says, still smiling. She looks thoughtful for a moment. And then she says, 'This is hard for you. I understand.'
Amber goes very pale. Kutner takes a spontaneous step backward.
'You quit your job, you moved to Princeton,' Thirteen continues, 'You really wanted this.'
'I have a Plan B,' Amber says, certainly trying to sound nonchalant.
'It's hard losing something you wanted so much, isn't it?' Thirteen says.
Amber slams the door on their face.
'Come on,' Thirteen says after a moment of stunned silence. 'We got what we wanted.'
Kutner trails after her, not sure why he suddenly feels a little hot under his collar.
*
'Seems fine to me,' Kutner says after a brief look at the car.
It's right where Amber said it would be, neatly parked between two giant SUVs in the basement and just as battered as it was yesterday. 'We're friends of Amber Volakis,' Thirteen told the watchman, and handed him a couple of notes, and no one asked them any questions after that.
'Thank you,' Thirteen says now, climbing on the driver's seat.
'You're welcome,' Kutner says, a little awkward, and watches her turn the ignition on. And adds, in an after-thought, 'You, uh, wanna go for a drink?'
'Some other day, maybe,' says Thirteen with a smile. He figures it was worth a try.
He watches her drive away and heads for his own car, trying to put his finger to what exactly it is that is so… disturbing (is that the word?) about this entire interlude.
Women, Kutner thinks, are weird. He misses Cole.
*
End
Title: Sidekick
Fandom: House, M.D
Character(s): Kutner, Amber, Thirteen (gen. well, Amber/Thirteen if you're squinting like I am)
Words: 1370
Disclaimer: Not mine. Playing.
Summary: Kutner spots Amber in the parking lot. Thirteen won't be happy.
A/N: Set after 4.09, spoilers. Your thoughts/criticism will be cherished – I'm not known for my sensitive snowflake soul.
*
He spots her in the parking lot. In front of a car, inspecting its number plate.
It's been a week since the final rounds of eliminations. Kutner is officially an employee of Gregory House now – has a contract to prove it, and no, he's not gonna stop wanting to dance and sing at the thought anytime soon. Amber on the other hand isn't, because she got fired and stayed fired and therefore should have no legal reason to be here, inspecting number plates at the hospital parking lot on a chilly winter evening.
'Hey!' Her head snaps up when he calls out, and she looks ready to bolt should the need arise. 'It's me. Kutner.'
She visibly relaxes at that, and gives him a tight little smile that expresses exactly how not-happy she is to see him.
Kutner smiles back. 'What are you doing in here?'
'Looking for a car,' Amber says shortly before returning to her task.
'If you're looking for House's car, it's not here,' Kutner offers helpfully. 'Cuddy shifted it to the E lot. He went nuts over it. Said he'll go on strike if he doesn't have it shifted back by tomorrow.' He chuckles at the mental image – god he loves this place – before realising that it's Cut-throat Bitch he's talking to, and says, 'Uh, are you planning to plant a bomb inside his car or something?' She seems the type. Probably did that to her ex-boyfriends in high school. Which is kinda cool, in a scaryhot sort of way.
Not that he wants House to die or something.
Amber shoots him a Glare of Death, and says, 'I'm not looking for House's car.'
She keeps checking the number plates, however, so Kutner follows her around. Until she stops in front of a battered green sedan, checks the number plate, and checks it again, looking extremely pleased with herself.
Wait, isn't that - 'Thirteen's car?' Kutner says.
Amber does not deign to reply, but Kutner knows that car. Has been in it, in fact, on their way to their patient's house the other day.
'Are you… planning to plant a bomb inside Thirteen's car?' he has to ask. She seems the type. Probably did that to her enemies in high school. Which, again, is kinda cool, but he doesn't want Thirteen to die, either.
'No,' she says, rummaging inside her handbag. Which could definitely contain a bomb, no matter what Amber says, so Kutner cautiously inches closer, just in case he has to intervene.
What she fishes out, however, is not a bomb but a Slim Jim, not unlike the one he and Harry had used back in twelfth grade to confirm if Big Bill really had a gun in his glove cabinet.
Which she then proceeds to use with supreme proficiency.
'Can I have a look at that?' Kutner says as she opens the door.
'No.' She stuffs it back in her bag.
She slides inside, then. Rummages inside her handbag again, and brings out a screwdriver.
'You know how to hot-wire a car?'
'Learnt it in high school,' Amber shrugs.
She goes on to prove it, and all Kutner can say is, 'Wow. That's awesome.' Kinda hot, too.
Amber smirks.
'Are you doing this because House hired her back and not you?'
'Revenge is best served hot, don't you think?'
She's about to drive away when Kutner calls out, 'Listen!'
'What?'
'You, uh, wanna go for a drink?'
She flashes him a Super Mega Death Glare and zooms past him. He figures it was worth a try.
Thirteen won't be happy, though.
*
'My car is missing.'
Thirteen ambushes him on his way out the next evening.
Kutner stares at her. It's been an eventful day. Cuddy wouldn't shift House back to his old parking space and so House tried to picket in front of the clinic while she was meeting with some bigwig donors in her office. They were ordered to join in: Taub refused and Thirteen looked amused and Foreman came and yelled at them just when Kutner was about to suggest placards of some sort, for the effect. They had a patient after that, and things got a bit insane once she started leaking blood all over the place. There had been no mention of stolen and possibly blown to bits by now cars.
'Oh,' he says. Thirteen's stare is a bit unnerving, so he adds, 'Did you, you know, look properly?'
'It's been missing since last evening,' Thirteen says. 'I had to take a cab to work this morning.'
'Oh. Too bad. Did you, uh, inform the cops?'
'Not yet,' Thirteen says. 'Thought I'd do some investigating on my own.' Her eyes are very green. Kutner suddenly finds it very difficult to look her in the eye.
She keeps looking at him, and Kutner blurts, 'I didn't do it!'
'I didn't say you did.'
'Fine. It was Amber, okay?' says Kutner, raising his hands in surrender. 'She had a lockout tool and she hot-wired your car. I don't know where she took it.'
Thirteen nods. She does not appear particularly surprised. 'Let's go,' she says abruptly, grabbing hold of his hand and steering him towards the elevator.
'Where? And aren't you supposed to be observing?'
'Taub's observing. We're going to get my car back,' Thirteen says. She does not let go of his hand.
'I don't know where she lives,' Kutner protests weakly.
'I do,' she says, and there's no arguing after that.
*
Thirteen does appear to know where she's going, so Kutner refrains from asking questions, and soon they're in front of an apartment that Thirteen says belongs to Amber. Thirteen presses the doorbell; Kutner stands behind her in the foyer and hopes they won't have a catfight or something. Hot though it would be. With oil and tiny sequined bikinis, although it's kinda cold for that kind of thing. Maybe they'd warm each other up, with the –
Amber opens the door, relaxed and un-Amberlike in her pyjamas before she stiffens in recognition and narrows her eyes at them.
'Can I have my car back now?' Thirteen says without preamble. There's a little smile playing at the corner of her lips, almost amused.
Amber glares at Kutner. 'Knew you'd blab at the first opportunity,' she says.
'I didn't blab!' he protests, because he didn't. Technically. 'She… figured it out by herself. And then she ambushed me.'
Amber shoots him another dirty look, and says, 'Parking lot in the building across the street. If anyone asks, tell them my name. Oh, and you should get your silencer fixed, by the way.'
'Thanks. I will,' Thirteen says, still smiling. She looks thoughtful for a moment. And then she says, 'This is hard for you. I understand.'
Amber goes very pale. Kutner takes a spontaneous step backward.
'You quit your job, you moved to Princeton,' Thirteen continues, 'You really wanted this.'
'I have a Plan B,' Amber says, certainly trying to sound nonchalant.
'It's hard losing something you wanted so much, isn't it?' Thirteen says.
Amber slams the door on their face.
'Come on,' Thirteen says after a moment of stunned silence. 'We got what we wanted.'
Kutner trails after her, not sure why he suddenly feels a little hot under his collar.
*
'Seems fine to me,' Kutner says after a brief look at the car.
It's right where Amber said it would be, neatly parked between two giant SUVs in the basement and just as battered as it was yesterday. 'We're friends of Amber Volakis,' Thirteen told the watchman, and handed him a couple of notes, and no one asked them any questions after that.
'Thank you,' Thirteen says now, climbing on the driver's seat.
'You're welcome,' Kutner says, a little awkward, and watches her turn the ignition on. And adds, in an after-thought, 'You, uh, wanna go for a drink?'
'Some other day, maybe,' says Thirteen with a smile. He figures it was worth a try.
He watches her drive away and heads for his own car, trying to put his finger to what exactly it is that is so… disturbing (is that the word?) about this entire interlude.
Women, Kutner thinks, are weird. He misses Cole.
*
End
