A Tale by the Sisters Hameron ~ Book 2 - Chapter 9, Part 1
Title: A Tale by the Sisters Hameron ~ Book 2
Chapter: 9 of 20, Part 1
Authors: jellybean728 and daisyb10
Rating: Suitable for Teens. 13 years +
Pairings: House/Cameron, Wilson/Cuddy
Summary: A Housian adaptation of Shrek 2.
Disclaimer: We do not own House, M.D., Shrek, or any of their characters, nor do we profit from this story.
Chapter 9: The Factory, Part 1
“Now, remember what I said. Not one word. Let me do all the talking. Got it?”
”Sí, señor Greg. No una palabra.”
“Understood. Not one word,” echoed Wilson.
House took a deep breath to calm his nerves, then stepped purposefully inside, flanked by Wilson and Foreman.
The Fairy Godmother’s waiting room was an unexpected vision of opulence and grandeur, given the quaint exterior of her rustic cottage. A stunning marble floor, laid diagonally in alternate rows of lavender and purple custom-hued tiles, showcased the room’s elegant furnishings. Velvety armchairs and loveseats in a rich shade of fuchsia sat beneath
gilt-framed oil paintings on lavender walls. The portraits depicted generations of fairy godmothers, and bore witness to the longevity of this centuries-old enterprise.
A slight elfin man, who House guessed was Stacy’s assistant, sat alone at the head of the room.
”Hi, I’m here to see the …” House began.
“The Fairy Godmothère?” the man asked in a thick French accent, not bothering to look up from the invoice he was studying. ”I’m sorry. She’s not in.”
“Jerome! Coffee! Now!” Stacy’s voice squawked over the intercom. “And bring me my cigarettes!”
“Not in, you say?” House smirked as he eyed two coquettish portraits of Stacy.
She’s larger than life, and more dangerous than ever …
With a heavy sigh of resignation, Jerome spoke into the brass gramophone horn on his desk.
“Yes, Fairy Godmothère. Right away,” then looked up at the trio. “Look, she’s not seeing any clients today, okay?”
“That’s okay, buddy. We’re from the union.” House announced.
“The union?”
“We represent the workers in all magical industries, both evil and benign.”
“Oh! Oh, right,” Jerome answered, pretending to be familiar with the non-existent union.
“Are you feeling at all degraded or oppressed?” House asked with concern.
Jerome flicked the intercom off before answering. “Well, now that you mention it, yes.”
He leaned forward with great interest. “We don’t even have a dental plan!”
“Tsk-tsk. Can you imagine that?” House turned to Wilson. “They don’t even have a dental plan.”
Wilson and Foreman shook their heads in disbelief.
“Okay, we’ll just have a look around. Oh, by the way … I think it would be better if the Fairy Godmother didn’t know we were here.” House suggested in a conspiratorial tone.
“My lips are sealed,” Jerome winked. “Please, go right in. The first door on your left will lead you straight to the factory.”
~~~~~
A cacophonous noise assaulted their ears as they looked down upon the factory from an upper balcony. Gears squealed, steam hissed and voices chattered loudly in an effort to be heard above the periodic explosions from the workstations in the center of the room. Three stories high, if an inch, the stone fortress resembled a medieval torture chamber. Hundreds of diminutive workers scurried about in hooded, white bio-hazard robes with protective glass visors and blue neoprene rubber-wear on their hands and feet.
”It’s a colony of smurfs!” House said with mock glee. “Right here, in Cape Wooster!”
Wilson laughed as he surveyed the room. “The machinery … it’s so ….”
“Primitive?” House suggested.
“Primitive. Exactly. Look, over there. That wooden conveyor belt. They’re running on it like a treadmill … it’s … it’s ...”
“Everywhere. The potion vats, the mill wheels, the bottling equipment … they were already antiques a hundred years ago!”
“Boss, look! In the cage next to the swans. Do my eyes deceive me? Is that a two-headed tiger?!”
House and Wilson leaned over the railing next to Foreman, straining to catch a better glimpse of the curious creature.
KA-BOOM!!!!
“That was a little too close for comfort!” yelled a startled Wilson. “It sounded like the explosion came from this floor.”
KA-BOOM!!!!
The balcony was flooded in florescent green light.
“C’mon!” House hurried towards an archway in the balcony wall.
KA-BOOM!!!!
A woman’s voice lured them to another waiting room. It was smaller than the first, with an identical décor.
KA-BOOM!!!! KA-BOOM!!!! KA-BOOM!!!!
The explosions accelerated at an alarming rate; each one louder and brighter than the one before.
“A drop of desire …”
“She’s in the next room …”
The fearless trio snuck in with ease.
Stacy was mesmerized by the bubbling cauldron that boiled at her feet, twirling giddily as she danced around her creation. Like a master chef, she selected her ingredients from the lavender hutches that lined the walls of her lab. With thousands of recipes at her fingertips, she was the undisputed queen of manipulation and magic.
”Oooo … That’s naughty!” she giggled.
“A pinch of passion …”
A blast of violet smoke arose from the cauldron as passion entered the mix.
Stacy reached for a large earthenware jug.
She laughed lasciviously, watching the red syrupy liquid stream into her brew.
“And just a hint of lust! …”
KA-BOOM!!!!
An explosion of lust flooded the lab with crimson smoke.
The clouds swirled violently, spinning in a tornado-like frenzy above the cauldron before morphing into a monstrous red heart.
“Um, excuse me …”
“EEEEEEEK!!!!”
Stacy stopped in mid-twirl as she caught sight of her visitors through the dissipating smoke.
“Excuse me, Fairy Godmother. We’re sorry to barge in like this …” House began.
Stacy angrily drew a fuchsia velvet curtain across the entrance to her lab, and stripped off her lab coat revealing the shimmering blue silk sheath that she wore beneath.
”Dr. House … Dr. Wilson … and you …” Stacy said, turning her attention to Foreman. “We’ve met before, have we not?”
House nodded imperceptibly, allowing Foreman to speak.
“It was my great honour to make your acquaintance at my recent gala benefiting the Humane Society of Cape Wooster. “ Foreman removed his fedora and bowed deeply. “Dr. Eric F. Foreman, at your service.”
“Why, thank you!” Stacy gushed with “southern belle” charm.
But her charm was short lived.
“Now what, in Grimm’s name, are you doing here?” she barked.
Stacy staccatoed into her office in four-inch Louboutin stilettos and sat at her desk, impatiently drumming her fingernails as she looked from man to man.
“It’s not nice to keep Fairy Godmother waiting …” she seethed. “Somebody, say something!”
House stepped forward and spoke with a confidence that belied his nerves.
”I’ve come to engage your services. I need your help … for my wife.”
Stacy’s lips curled into the slightest of smiles. This should be interesting …
“I had no idea you were married, Dr. House,” she lied, unwilling to tip her hand. “Who’s the lucky girl?”
“Doctor Allison Cameron. Actually, you know her as Princess Doctor Allison Cameron.”
“So you’re the man who’s responsible for crippling my Fairy Goddaughter!” she accused.
“NO!!! … Well, yes … well, I guess I am.” House stared at the floor dejectedly, but quickly looked up.
“But I didn’t mean to … honestly!”
“But- you-didn’t-mean-to … honestly ….” she sneered, lingering over every word.
“And just what, exactly, do you want from me?”
“I think my wife’s unhappy, with me and our marriage. And when I read your business card,
‘Happiness is just … a tear drop away’, I thought maybe, you could help.”
Men can be so stupid at times …
Stacy smiled coyly at House and smoothed a phantom wrinkle from the bodice of her dress, drawing House’s attention to her curvaceous bosom.
“Oh, you did, did you?” she drawled sarcastically. “And there’s some question as to why your Princess is unhappy?
Well, let’s explore that, shall we?”
Stacy rose from her seat and walked to her bookcase. She browsed shelf by shelf, sliding an impeccably manicured index finger over each leather-bound volume.
“Ah … P, P, P … Princess. Cinderella. Here we are,” she said, reading aloud from the book.
“Lived happily ever after. Oh!” Stacy laughed as she looked back at House, before flinging the fairy tale towards her desk. “No cripples!”
“Let’s try S! Snow White. A handsome prince. What a surprise! No cripples!”
“Sleeping Beauty. Oh, no cripples!”
Each book flew over her shoulder as she moved on to the next, landing open on her desk with startling accuracy,
squarely atop its predecessor.
“Hansel and Gretel? No!”
“Thumbelina? No.”
The stack of books grew higher.
“The Golden Bird, The Little Mermaid, Pretty Woman …”
“No, no, no, no, no!” she shouted, as five more books fell into place.
Stacy turned to confront House, but suddenly softened when she saw the sadness in his eyes.
She spoke tenderly as she broke her unfortunate news.
“Some relationships aren’t meant to be. You see … cripples don’t live happily ever after.”
“But Allison’s crippled, too!” House protested.
Stacy’s compassion was short-lived.
“And whose fault is that? You’re an idiot, House! You should have never allowed yourself to fall in love with Princess Allison. You’ve ruined her life! No wonder she’s unhappy with you!” she countered.
House’s blood began to boil. “Alright! I get it! It’s all my fault!”
He fought to remain composed. “Please, will you help me make things right?”
“Help you?” Stacy chortled. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“Remember, I’m not asking for me … it’s for Allison. You’re her Fairy Godmother!
You must want her to be happy!” House pleaded.
Stacy stood silently, as if deep in thought.
“You’re right,” she said quietly. “I do want Princess Allison to be happy.”
She straightened aggressively, her hands resting on her hips as she leaned forward towards House.
“And that’s precisely why I won’t help you save your marriage!”
With every sentence her voice grew louder. ”It should never have happened!”
Then shriller. “It’s time you realize that, House!”
And the coup de grâce… “You will never … and I do mean NEVER … make Allison happy!”
“That’s enough!” House snapped. ”I love my wife and I will make her happy!”
”So let me get this straight, Stacy … you’re refusing to help me.”
“That’s right. And it’s Fairy Godmother to you!”
“Yea, yea … you’re the Great, Benevolent Fairy Godmother!” House mocked, waving his index finger agitatedly in her face. “That’s what you want everyone to believe! Spreading happiness and sunshine wherever you go!”
”Just remember, I know why you were disbarred!
I know how you and Vogler tried to ruin Wilson’s life and reputation!”
“And I know ..." Wilson burst in, no longer able to contain his anger, "how you tried to sabotage House’s research and shut down CRIPPLED!”
“I know nothing …” Foreman murmured.
”You’re a fake! A phony!” House continued. “You’re spreading something alright, and it smells like ...”
“I can assure you, Doctor House, my powers are real,” Stacy hissed in a foreboding tone. “Want a sample?”
House cut his rant short as Stacy began to levitate, rising swiftly to glare down at him from a position of dominance.
“And don’t you point those long, sinewy fingers at me!” she warned.
As much as House annoyed her, Stacy was finding their argument an incredible turn-on.
Her core smoldered with a heat that had nothing to do with fury.
Hmmm … look at those hands … he must be quite the lover ….
“Your coffee and cigarettes. Oh! Sorry, Fairy Godmother. Am I interrupting something?” The factory attendant froze behind his serving cart.
“Don’t you people ever knock?” Stacy spat with annoyance at the frightened man.
“That’s okay. We were just leaving. I’m very sorry to have wasted your time, Miss Fairy Godmother.”
House knew there was nothing to be gained by prolonging the conversation.
He’d lost the first round, but the fight was far from over.
“Come on, Wilson. Foreman, we’ve worn out our welcome.“
“Just … go!”
Stacy waved a dismissive hand as she floated back down to the floor, but watched the men leave with an enigmatic smile on her face.
You’re mine, Gregory House … a few drops of my muscle regeneration potion,and you’ll be good as new … and ready for my bed …
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