Title: Epidemic
Author: Kari (meinterrupted@livejournal.com)
Summary: Grissom calls an old friend for help on a hard case.
Rating: Adult General
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 300
Notes: Written for buchicklv.
Gil Grissom stared at the phone, unsure if he should make the call. The CDC might take it poorly. Sighing, he finally picked up the receiver and dialed the number.
The other man picked up after three rings. Gil counted himself lucky he was actually in his office. "House. Who's this?"
"Greg. It's Gil Grissom."
He could almost hear the other man's eyebrows shoot up. "Gil. This is unexpected."
"And unfortunately necessary. Are you busy?"
Even over the phone he could hear the squeak of the chair as House sat. "I'm supposed to do clinic duty, but you never call unless it's something interesting. Cuddy's precious patients will just have to wait."
Grissom smiled. "Still as lazy as ever, I see."
"I don't see it as laziness. I see it as focusing my energies elsewhere. Do you know how hard it is to avoid Cuddy? I think she has a tracking device on me."
"As smart as ever, Greg." He paused. "I have a case that might interest you."
"And now we get to the point."
"It's a woman, in her late seventies. She lived alone, with several cats, and was brought into the ER last night complaining of flu-like symptoms. There were black patches on her skin, and she died in the middle of the night."
"Swollen lymph nodes?"
"Yes."
"And she lived with cats. Fleas?"
Grissom paused. "I'm not sure."
"Get sure. And tell your coroner to check for Yersinia pestis in the blood."
"You don't think--"
"Yes. I do. Sounds like she caught a nasty case of the Bubonic plague from her grimy cats and let it develop into the Septicemic stage. And for God's sake, Gil, go on antibiotics."
"I will." He smiled wryly. "Thanks Greg."
"Anyone else infected?"
Grissom smiled. "Fishing for an invite?"
Author: Kari (meinterrupted@livejournal.com)
Summary: Grissom calls an old friend for help on a hard case.
Rating: Adult General
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 300
Notes: Written for buchicklv.
Gil Grissom stared at the phone, unsure if he should make the call. The CDC might take it poorly. Sighing, he finally picked up the receiver and dialed the number.
The other man picked up after three rings. Gil counted himself lucky he was actually in his office. "House. Who's this?"
"Greg. It's Gil Grissom."
He could almost hear the other man's eyebrows shoot up. "Gil. This is unexpected."
"And unfortunately necessary. Are you busy?"
Even over the phone he could hear the squeak of the chair as House sat. "I'm supposed to do clinic duty, but you never call unless it's something interesting. Cuddy's precious patients will just have to wait."
Grissom smiled. "Still as lazy as ever, I see."
"I don't see it as laziness. I see it as focusing my energies elsewhere. Do you know how hard it is to avoid Cuddy? I think she has a tracking device on me."
"As smart as ever, Greg." He paused. "I have a case that might interest you."
"And now we get to the point."
"It's a woman, in her late seventies. She lived alone, with several cats, and was brought into the ER last night complaining of flu-like symptoms. There were black patches on her skin, and she died in the middle of the night."
"Swollen lymph nodes?"
"Yes."
"And she lived with cats. Fleas?"
Grissom paused. "I'm not sure."
"Get sure. And tell your coroner to check for Yersinia pestis in the blood."
"You don't think--"
"Yes. I do. Sounds like she caught a nasty case of the Bubonic plague from her grimy cats and let it develop into the Septicemic stage. And for God's sake, Gil, go on antibiotics."
"I will." He smiled wryly. "Thanks Greg."
"Anyone else infected?"
Grissom smiled. "Fishing for an invite?"
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