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  Secret Keeping 
 by mylexie  

 Secret keeping.

It's four in the afternoon and House has been playing with his Gameboy for
about an hour when the sound of Cuddy's heels propels him to his feet. It
only takes him a moment to grab his ducklings' attention from their
various activities - sudoku, the paper and his mail, respectively - and
start once more on the patient. That the woman is stable for now doesn't
matter much. He knows there's something they've missed and the stability
won't last.

He's writing down symptoms when Cuddy passes the room. She looks in and
shakes her head. House knows she's seen through his act, but she doesn't
tell him off, because at least he's pretending to be curing the patient. A
moment later he hears her walk away. He finishes the list, asks his
fellows if they have any new suggestions, which they don't, then settles
back down. 

House doesn't just play on his Gameboy when he's bored, but also to keep
his hands occupied while his brain tries to work out a medical puzzle.
Right now he's not thinking about the missing piece, though. The sound of
Cuddy's shoes has distracted him.

House has always liked shoes, because a look at someone's footwear could
tell you more about the person than an entire conversation. Men's shoes
are good, but especially women's shoes always hold a world of information.
Take Cuddy's shoes for example. 

In general, a smart woman doesn't wear high heels if she's on her feet all
day, but Cuddy does. Like her shirts and blouses, her shoes are often
slightly inappropriate, skirting the line between sexy and slutty. At the
end of the day, her feet must kill her, House thinks. And sometimes when
he watches her walk down the hall, he wonders if her body's deformed yet
from years of being forced to stand in a position the human body wasn't
meant to take. She still looks hot though, click clacking through the
halls of the PPTH, with her elongated legs and swaying hips. 

Also, she's got style. Her choice of shoes isn't dictated by current
fashion, just by her own taste. Because of that, House can often discern
her mood by looking at her shoes. If they're flats, she's started the day
off being tired. High heels are the norm, but if they have pointy toes,
run fast and far, because she's feeling especially domineering. If the
shoes look girly, ten to one that she's got an appointment with a possible
donator to the hospital. House knows this, and takes advantage of it.

Just like Cuddy's, Cameron's shoes are a reflection of her mood and
personality. They aren't nearly as interesting as Cuddy's, though. For
starters, they're usually sensible, which may be smart, but isn't very
exciting. Also, they too often make her look like a little girl playing
grown-up, because they're shoes meant for women in their forties, House
thinks with an evil grin. Cameron sees him looking at her pumps, which are
brown and have a little bow on them, and almost asks what's the matter,
but House is already looking at her colleagues' shoes. 

Chase and Foreman's shoes are even less interesting than Cameron's. Where
House likes to find shoes that are completely inappropriate (but suit him
well, and are good for his feet), his male ducklings wear completely
normal shoes. They say they're responsible men, and fit the doctor image.
He could probably find out some more from them if he wanted to, but it's
just too much effort if the shoes don't want to speak for themselves.

Foreman catches House's dismissive glance. "What?" He asks, prickly. "Is
there something wrong with my shoes?"

House shrugs. "No, they're fine, if you like stuffy and boring. Oh, wait,
I guess you do like that. This way no one would guess your hobby of
breaking into patients' houses." He grins, and waves at Wilson, who's
passing by. It's almost twelve: lunchtime!

"You're the one that wants me to break in!" Foreman splutters. "And what
do my shoes have to do with that?"

Again House shrugs. "If you say so." He stands up and walks towards
Wilson, who's waiting for him in the doorway. "Come on. It's lunchtime." 

As he walks away he hears Cameron mutter something soothing to Foreman. He
turns to Wilson. "Well, I don't know what I said wrong. His shoes are
stuffy and boring!" 

"My shoes are almost identical to his," Wilson points out. He pauses for a
moment, then asks, a little unsure: "Are my shoes that bad?"

House takes a look at Wilson's shoes. They're almost the same, but not
quite Black, French, expensive. Well take care of, classy and nondescript.
"No, I like your shoes," he says, and means it. If Foreman would wear them
he'd roll his eyes at the pretentiousness, but on Wilson they tell a
completely different story. They're professional shoes of the kind a
businessman would wear, and conceal just as much. Just like the suits and
ties, Wilson's shoes are meant to hide their wearer's true self from
others, and they succeed at their job, which is why House likes them.
Because they keep their owner's secrets from everyone but him.

Fin. 

  
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the
ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House
(and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property
of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I
am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive
no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement
nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the
show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.