Robert Chase, M.D. (r_chase_md) wrote in willingtoliefor,
Robert Chase, M.D.

[Chase; Open to anyone; Friday Morning around 10:30; Diagnostics Staff Room]

Pushing his way through the door that lead out into the hallway from the male staff locker room, he glances down at his watch as he fastens it to his wrist, it reads 10:30am. His morning had been rather rough thus far, and he’d only been on duty a few hours. The most recent patient he had checked in on had vomited blood all over him, which lead to him having to take a shower in the locker room, seeing as how he wouldn’t be going home anytime soon. Wearing dress pants, a polo shirt, dress shoes and his white lab coat, his blond hair still rather damp with water and combed back away from his face.

This was going to be a long day, huh? Why did all the long, drawn out days have to be Fridays? Someone up there must be having a piss-poor day as well, then again…could be worst. Could have people dieing.

At this thought, he raps gently on a near by panel of wood that was part of the wall to his left.

Better safe then sorry in this Hospital.

He knew he had little under half hour before he was due in House’s office to…well, collect information which will conclude who’s the winner of the bet. He was uncomfortable at the idea of pulling down his pants in front of his co-worker, doctor or not. Especially House who would probably make him feel stupid and embarrassed if he *didn’t* size up as he boasted he would.

Plus, its not exactly a warm day even if you lose, you have an excuse. Wait a second…

Glancing down to the crotch of his dress pants, he looking suddenly concerned.

…maybe the shower could have waited…Oh, Crap.

But…if he didn’t at least do the bet, even if he lost, House would just have one more thing to hold against him and pitch cracks at. Not something he wanted. If anything, he wanted a little more respect from the team leader. Sighing heavily, he enters the Diagnostics staff room to find it completely and utterly empty, so he wonders over to the sink. Grabbing his mug and the squeeze bottle full of honey on the shelf, he begins to boil water in the electric kettle for tea. Then…

…drinking tea does not make me British!

Shaking his head to himself, he rubs his temple as it begins to throb slightly, and side glances over to the white board.

No new cases? Odd. Where is everyone, anyway?
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