I need an easier hobby
Seems like writing for fun should be, well, pure fun and not part fun, part work. It doesn't work that way for me, tho.
I thought I had my rarepair fic done...then decided deleted an entire scene and now have to rewrite both the preceeding and subsequent scenes. My original fic needed some major revisions only being not a true child of the computer age, I find it difficult to scroll back and forth thru approximately 80 pages. So I printed it all off and literally cut and pasted (okay, taped, not pasted) the scenes together. I got the revisions made but seems like it should've been easier.
Anyhoo, I did finish one fic written purely because I miss Scooter. I need to find a reason to keep the character in the House-verse, in fanon if not canon. The fic ended up being more about House and Cuddy but Scooter's there. And Wilson. And...tho I got pretty wordy, there's not much more point to it than keeping Scooter around.
Conspiracy of Hope
House pushed through the outer door and stalked into the small office between the clinic and Cuddy’s seat of power. He fully intended to march right through and into the inner sanctum. He was on a mission after all. He certainly didn’t intend to pay attention to the drone at the desk. There was no point; the drones never lasted long. He was beginning to wonder if the ongoing renovations around the hospital didn’t have more to do with Cuddy’s need to dispose of bodies than with any desire to improve the hospital’s appearance.
“Ridiculously Old Fraud.” House stopped, head tilted in a questioning manner when he realized this drone was a familiar one.
“Dr. House. How are you?” Henry smiled up at House from his seat, his expression, as always, holding just a hint of smug amusement.
“Are you visiting?” House asked hopefully.
“Working,” Henry said as he reached for his phone. “Shall I tell Dr. Cuddy you’d like to see her?”
“Thanks, but it’s easier to see her when she doesn’t know I want to see her.” House reached for the door, his brow wrinkled as he studied Henry with a bemused expression for another beat. Then the door closed almost soundlessly behind him when he finally let himself into Cuddy’s office, striding forcefully toward her desk.
“You hired my reject,” House said.
“So?”
“That says something.”
“Really?” Cuddy said without looking away from her computer screen. “What?”
Confused, House’s footsteps faltered momentarily. “You hired a man I rejected,” he repeated. “That would seem to indicate you’re somewhat beneath me on the food chain.”
Cuddy looked up with an expression of weary frustration. “You didn’t hire Henry because he wasn’t good at doctor stuff. I did hire him because he is good at non-doctor stuff. You’re not better than me, you’re simply playing on a different field.”
“I didn’t dump Scooter because he’s not a good doctor. He is, or would be if he actually were a doctor.”
“Then why didn’t you hire him?” Cuddy gave House a skeptical stare. “And I ask because I know you wouldn’t have rejected him over a technicality like not having a medical license.”
“He’s too much like me.” House started to pace toward the bookshelves then turned back. “I need someone who’ll give me different ideas, not recycle my own.”
“And I need someone with at least a rudimentary grasp of the alphabet and who isn’t terrified of you.”
House merely scoffed. “If you insist on having a fake doctor, you could’ve hired Dr. Buffer. He’s not afraid of me either.”
“I don’t need a janitor. I need an assistant,” Cuddy said. “And Lou already has a job. Henry didn’t.”
“Scooter took a leave of absence to apply here. He didn’t need a new job.”
“Well, I needed a new assistant so I offered him a job.”
“Why him?”
“Why not?” Cuddy asked. “He’s smart, he’s organized, and...I like him.”
“My god.” House looked at her in disgust. “It’s like one of the Angels trying to jump Bosley--it’s unnatural.”
“Why are you here?” Cuddy asked, a resigned sigh escaping her.
“Good question,” House said as he struggled to recall his original reason for braving the seat of administrative power. He’d had a mission, he knew that much. His mind was enthralled by a new puzzle now, though. “Tell you what--I’ll let you know as soon as I remember.”
“I’m awash in anticipation,” Cuddy muttered as he left as quickly as he’d arrived.
~~**~~
“Did you know Cuddy had hired Scooter?” House asked as he plopped down on the couch in Wilson’s office.
Wilson glanced over at him, a wary expression on his face. “Since, unlike you I’m not afraid of Cuddy, I actually do go to her office and therefore yes, I did know she’d hired Henry.” Wilson frowned. “I also know you invited Henry to join your poker game.”
“Only once,” House said dismissively. “And why aren’t you afraid of Cuddy? Every other male on the planet is. Then again, maybe that explains it.”
“Only once? I assume that means you couldn’t bluff him,” Wilson said, ignoring the slight to his manhood.
“He cheated.”
“Of course, he did,” Wilson muttered.
“Why would she hire him?”
“Well, my guess is he’s actually qualified to do the job. And he’s not afraid of you.”
“That’s what she said.”
“And therefore it can’t be true,” Wilson said in a resigned tone.
“No, but it is interesting.”
“I assume you mean interesting in the sense that there’s a global conspiracy involved,” Wilson said as he picked up his pen and began charting again.
“Conspiracy theories are lame.” House looked around, beating a muffled tattoo against carpet with his cane. “It’s interesting that Cuddy hired my reject. That she’s hired all my rejects. Foreman quit and she hired him back to be my bête noire--literally. I fired Chase and she gave him a job in surgery. Cameron quit in a fit of pique, or sexual frustration, and Cuddy hired her back in the E.R. And now there’s Scooter.”
“Cuddy hasn’t hired all your rejects,” Wilson said pointedly.
“Didn’t need to. Amber’s got you to keep her close to the action.”
Wilson shook his head, pressing his lips tightly together to suppress the exasperated sighs House always provoked. “She didn’t hire Terzy back either.”
“Too much competition,” House said smugly.
“You know what? I don’t care.” Wilson held his hands, palms out, as if that would stop House’s paranoia from reaching him. ”I’m not getting in the middle of this.”
House harrumphed as he got to his feet. “You can’t get out of the middle of this.”
~~**~~
Cuddy reached for her phone to call Henry in with a file she needed. Just as she lifted the receiver, Henry pushed through the door. “The quarterly epidemiology reports you wanted.”
“How did you...?” Cuddy shook her head as she replaced the phone. She got up from behind her desk and took the reports, tossing them on the pile of other folders on the desk. “May I ask you a question?”
Henry had already turned to go back to his office but he stopped and faced Cuddy. “Shoot.”
“Why didn’t you ever enroll in medical school?” Cuddy asked as she leaned her ass back against her desk.
“I got married young. We had kids. I had responsibilities.” Henry gave a seemingly careless shrug, his hands deep in his pockets as he stood in front of her. “It was difficult enough to finish my undergraduate degree. I had an opportunity for a steady job with good benefits so I took it. My family had already made enough sacrifices.”
“But later....”
“Later....” Henry chuckled. “Kids don’t get less expensive as they get older. Then they went to college themselves and then...and then I looked around and realized I was too old to compete with the young guns.”
“Yet you applied for House’s fellowship.”
He ducked his head and gave a dry laugh. Then he looked up at Cuddy with a faintly embarrassed expression. “I couldn’t resist. I figured the worst that could happen was I’d get to play doctor for a couple of days, maybe a couple of weeks. And you know what? It was worth it.”
Cuddy twisted and reached for a dark blue folder on the desk behind her. She turned back and pulled a sheet of paper from the file, handing it to Henry.
“What...?”
“It’s your transcript.”
“But why...?” Henry looked down at the page, peering at it through his glasses. “This isn’t mine. This is a transcript from the Princeton Medical School.”
“We gave you credit for the classes you audited at Columbia.” Cuddy pulled a couple more pages from the folder and held them out to him. “There are a few classes where we’re going to require that you take an exam before giving you credit, just to be sure. The classes are listed there. There’s also a password. You can get the syllabus, sample tests, and assignments from the website.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“The problem is we can only give you credit for the academic work.” Cuddy continued speaking as if Henry hadn’t, raising her voice just slightly to overpower his.
“I don’t have the clinical experience,” Henry said with a resigned nod. He started to turn but stopped, confused, when Cuddy shoved the last page from the file at him. He glanced down at it, skimming the information, then looked up at Cuddy with a slightly bewildered expression.
“It’s your clinical rotation schedule.” Cuddy turned and headed back around her desk without another word, leaving Henry to stare at her. He shuffled his feet as if he didn’t know which direction to go.
“Dr. Cuddy, I....”
“Graduate,” Cuddy said tersely in obvious dismissal. “Or I will bust your ass.”
~~**~~
House barged into the exam room and turned, only to stop short when he spied an unexpected observer. “Scooter?”
“Dr. House.” Henry held out the patient’s file and House reached blindly for it, his eyes fixed on Henry. “Good to see you.”
“The question is why am I seeing you here, seeing as you’re not a doctor?”
“He’s not a doctor?” the patient interjected. She tugged the crinkled paper of the exam gown around her chest and stared at Henry.
“He’s a secretary,” House said.
“Administrative assistant and I’m also medical student.” Henry gave the confused woman a warm smile. “That’s why Dr. House is here to supervise.”
“But...you’re not a doctor.” She pointed her finger at Henry. “You saw my breasts.”
“Even secretaries deserve a little fun,” House told her. He gestured abruptly for her to loosen the gown again. He settled on the wheeled stool and glanced over at Henry. “So?”
“Patient presented with redness and swelling of the left breast and fever.”
“Not ‘so’ the patient,” House said irritably as he rolled himself closer to the exam table. “So what are you doing here?”
“I’m doing a clinical rotation.”
“Since when?”
“Since Dr. Cuddy arranged for me to receive credit for all the med school classes I audited,” Henry said.
“Do I need to write you a prescription for Viagra? Or did you take the easy way out and just sell your soul to her?” House asked as he put the earpieces for the stethoscope in his ears.
“I didn’t make any deal. She didn’t ask me for anything.” Henry gave House a long, pointed look. “Dr. Cuddy doesn’t play games.”
“Of course she does,” House countered. “She just makes it look like she’s not playing games.”
~~**~~
“You’re hopeless,” House announced. “Which is kind of ironic since what you’re hopeless about is hope.”
“What happened now?” Cuddy asked. She was crouching by the file cabinet, pulling a stack of folders from the bottom drawer. “Did you just now realize I’ve put parental controls on your computer? Or....”
“You’re putting Scooter through med school.” House’s grin was one of sheer disbelief. “You actually think a sixty-year-old clerk is going to become a doctor.”
“Henry’s already put himself through med school,” Cuddy said as she got to her feet. “I’m just helping him fill in a few missing credits.”
“Because you think he’s going to realize his dream.” House threw his hands up, incredulous. “You actually think he’s going to get the brass ring, he’s going climb that mountain, he’s going to....”
“Yes,” Cuddy said, cutting him off sharply. “I do believe it. Why is that such a problem for you?”
“An empty bed and an empty womb aren’t enough disappointment?”
Cuddy gave him furious look, her lips pressed together thinly. Then she tore her eyes away from him and sat down abruptly at her desk. House waited for the explosion as she started leafing through the folders in a somewhat aggressive fashion. But the explosion never came.
“God, Cuddy....” House rubbed his fingers across the grooves in his forehead. “Why do you do this to yourself? There’s no such thing as a happy ending.”
“Fifty bucks says Henry gets his medical degree,” Cuddy said. House snorted and turned away. “Fine. Five hundred.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Don’t tell me when I’m serious.” Cuddy planted her elbows on the desk, hands clasped together, and stared at him defiantly. “Afraid to take the bet? Afraid to lose a little money or just afraid to have a little faith in someone?”
“The money isn’t the issue,” House said. “It’s the loss of faith--your faith.”
“I will never lose faith.”
“Which is why you’ll never be happy.”
“Yeah?” Cuddy gave him a challenging look. “Then what faith is it that’s keeping you from being happy?”
~~**~~
“I tried to give these to Henry but he’s not here.” Wilson held up the sheaf of papers in his hand, one foot in Cuddy’s office, the other lingering back in Henry’s domain.
“I’ll take care of it,” Cuddy said, motioning for Wilson to set the report on her desk.
“Of course. Because you’ve got so much free time.” Wilson tapped the papers against his palm as he approached. “Maybe you should think about getting a full time assistant.”
“I have a full time assistant.”
“Who’s spending half his time doing his clinical rotations. Henry’s good, but he can’t do two full time jobs.”
“It’s temporary,” Cuddy snapped, pointing once again at her desk.
Wilson reluctantly set the report on the corner, then backed away a few steps. “Why are you doing this?”
“Oh god,” Cuddy muttered. She looked up and gave Wilson an impatient shake of her head. “I understand the question from House, but from you?”
“I think it’s great you’re helping Henry. I also think you can’t do his job and yours so why not let him concentrate on finishing his degree and find someone else to do the administrative work?”
“Henry needs this job. His wife doesn’t work and his youngest child is still in college. Without a full-time job he can’t finish his degree.”
“Henry’s divorced and his kids are out of school.”
“You weren’t supposed to know that,” Cuddy muttered.
“Why lie about it?”
“Why do I need an excuse?” she shot back. “Why do I need to have a reason for hiring a man to do a job he is well qualified to do and encouraging him to finish his education?”
“You’re over-working yourself to salvage someone else’s dream,” Wilson pointed out quietly.
“Well, why not?” Cuddy asked bitterly, throwing her hands up in frustration. “It’s not like I can salvage mine.”
~~**~~
Wilson crossed the lobby, shoulders slumped. He was wearing the same t-shirt, jeans and sneakers he’d pulled on that morning. It wasn’t the most professional appearance but it was Saturday and besides, a white coat made up for a plethora of fashion failings.
His footsteps faltered as he crossed by the clinic. Through two sets of doors he could see Henry moving around by his desk. Like Wilson, Henry was wearing casual clothing: jeans, tennis shoes, and a Columbia sweatshirt. Curious, Wilson made his way through the empty clinic. “I didn’t realize you worked on Saturdays.”
“Technically, I don’t,” Henry agreed, nodding at Wilson in greeting. “But I got a little behind because of my clinical so I thought I’d come in and catch up.”
“Good,” Wilson said. He noticed a curious frown from Henry and hastened to explain. “I had noticed a certain amount of backlog when I was in Cuddy’s office the other day.”
“And you’re worried that Dr. Cuddy will end up doing my job as well as her own.”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Wilson admitted.
“Don’t worry.” Henry was so calm as he moved a hefty pile of requisitions to the middle of his desk that Wilson wondered if anything ever rattled him. “If it gets too much, I’ll drop my clinical.”
“Technically solving the problem, and yet I don’t think that’s the solution Dr. Cuddy would like.”
“A little disappointment is better than working herself into a stroke.”
“Again,” Wilson said. “Not the solution I think Cuddy is looking for.”
“But you could live with it,” Henry suggested, one eyebrow raised in a knowing gesture.
“I....” Wilson massaged his neck. “It’s not just about you anymore.”
“House,” Henry agreed. “You think Dr. Cuddy will go too far to help me because she doesn’t want him to have the last word.”
“And House may go too far in order to prove her wrong.”
“Why do I suddenly feel like the wishbone at Thanksgiving dinner?” Henry said dryly. He shrugged good-naturedly. “I can’t stop either one of them from their strange competition, but I have no intention of playing into it.”
“Take it from a man who’s been there,” Wilson said. “Your intentions don’t really figure into their plans.”
~~**~~
“Where’s Henry?” House asked, pressing up against Cuddy’s back as she reached for a salad.
“At this very moment...I don’t know.” Cuddy grabbed a container of yogurt and set that on her tray, too, before pushing on to the cashier. She handed over a bill to pay for her lunch, then slapped House’s hand when he tried to sneak his hand over hers in a bid for the change.
“I have some very important supplies that need to be ordered,” House said, following Cuddy as she headed for the corner of the cafeteria. “Very important.”
“Leave the requisitions on Henry’s desk and I’m sure he’ll get to it ASAP,” Cuddy said, still maintaining a fairly even tone. She pulled out a chair and took a seat at a small table which had only one chair. Undaunted, he simply grabbed a chair from another table and made himself at home across the table from her.
“Have you come to your senses yet?”
“I haven’t fired you, have I?” Cuddy retorted.
“Just admit this isn’t going to work,” House said.
“It’s working just fine.”
“For Scooter, maybe. For you, not so much.” House snatched a packet of crackers from her tray and started to unwrap them. “You’re getting nothing out of it.”
“Exactly,” Cuddy retorted. “But then, I’ve already got nothing. Wilson has nothing. You refuse to have anything. I’d be thrilled to see just one person find his dream.”
“He’s a secretary. A clerk. He’s on the backside of middle age and six months ago you didn’t even know his name.”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t care. I’m just curious.”
“You’re insane,” Cuddy said. “And...you’re jealous.”
“Of Scooter?”
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Cuddy asked, a smugly delighted grin lighting her face. “You said he’s as good as you are, which wasn’t a problem as long as he wasn’t actually a doctor. Now....”
“Now that’s insane.”
“Don’t worry, House. Henry will never outshine you,” Cuddy said in a sweetly supportive tone. “He doesn’t have the time to build up a reputation like yours, and he’s too nice to have a personality like yours. He’ll never be as famous as you are, in any way.”
“He’ll never be as famous because he’ll never be a doctor.”
“Want to double that bet?” Cuddy asked pointedly. House merely pushed back from the table and walked heavily toward the door.
~~**~~
“You paged?” Henry entered House’s office with a mildly curious look on his face.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did,” Henry said, waving his pager at House.
“Probably Cuddy, seeing as how you two are so close these days.”
“Dr. Cuddy doesn’t sign her pages. Especially not with the words Love Muffin.” Henry planted his hands deep in the pockets of his lab coat. “What do you have against me becoming a doctor?”
“I don’t care either way whether you become a doctor.”
“Then it’s about Dr. Cuddy. Is this just an opportunity for some random aggravation or is there a point to it?”
“There’s always a point,” House said.
“And the point is...you’re jealous?”
“Of you?” House scoffed. “Hey, I could’ve had her. I turned her down.”
Henry studied him quietly for a moment, then gave a small nod. “You did have her, and she dumped you.”
“I just said....”
“If you’d dumped her, you wouldn’t still be chasing after her,” Henry said. “Hell, I’m not sure you even really want her, but she said no and that drives you crazy. And that’s not what I meant anyway.”
“You accused me of being jealous.”
“Yes, but not sexually, not in reference to me.” Henry paused, his gaze somewhat unfocused as he put his thoughts into words. “Dr. Cuddy is giving me special treatment. She’s bending the rules, bending over backward to give me what I need.”
“Trust me--Cuddy bends over for lots of guys.” House shifted in his chair when Henry’s only response was to stare. “Seriously, you think I’m jealous of her attention?”
“Yes. You’re used to being the ‘special’ one. The one who gets Dr. Cuddy’s time and attention…and respect. You’re afraid you’re going to lose that now.”
“That’s just so ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Henry asked, gazing at House. “Then what are you trying to accomplish?”
“I’m trying to teach Cuddy a lesson.” House looked up, stubborn and belligerent. “She needs to stop believing in fairy tales.”
“Do you really think Dr. Cuddy will change her world view because I fail to become a doctor?”
“Of course not, people don’t change,” House said firmly.
“Then what’s the point?”
“It’s subtle, but it’s there,” House insisted. “Unlike you, who’s just there.”
“Fine.” Henry held his hands up in a placating gesture as he turned for the door.
“It really isn’t about you,” House called after him.
“I know. And it’s not about Dr. Cuddy,” Henry said, glancing back over his shoulder as he opened the door. “It’s about you.”
~~**~~
“Why are you so convinced Henry will blow this chance?”
“If he really cared about being a doctor he would’ve done it before now.”
“Maybe he had other obligations. Maybe his wife wouldn’t let him. Maybe he couldn’t afford medical school.” Wilson paused and stared at House from the chair in the corner, anticipating his response. “Or maybe he just needed someone to believe in him.”
“Oh...god,” House exclaimed dramatically, rolling his eyes heavenward as he leaned back in his chair.
“More to the point,” Wilson continued unfazed. “If you’re so sure Henry will fail, why do you need to sabotage him?”
“Because it’ll take too long if I leave it up to him. Cuddy needs to learn her lesson now.”
“She’s not going to learn anything except that you’re capable of destroying a man’s dreams. And she already knows that.”
“I’m not trying to destroy Bosley’s dream,” House said as he grabbed the ball from his desk and started bouncing it off the wall of the conference room. “Cuddy’s--yes. Bosley’s--no.”
“Is it really so bad for Cuddy to want him to become Dr. Bosley?”
“The real Bosley didn’t need a title,” House said disdainfully.
“You do realize there was no ‘real’ Bosley?” Wilson pointed out.
“Why do you have such a problem with me having a problem?” House caught the ball and rolled it between his palms as he waited for Wilson’s explanation.
“Because your problems tend to become everyone’s problems.” Wilson gestured at the conference where three people were sitting around the table. “You’ve got a new team to explore and humiliate. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“They’re boring. I hired them to fill a purpose. They do. End of interest.” House gave an exasperated sigh at Wilson’s puzzled expression and pointed at his fellows. “Taub is a cheating Jew--consider him your understudy. Kutner is insane, which will be useful for distracting Cuddy from what I’m doing.”
“And 13?”
“Gotta have something to look at.”
“There’s a word for people like you,” Wilson said as he pushed up from the chair and headed for the door.
“Genius.”
“Not the word I was thinking.”
~~**~~
Cuddy walked in to House’s office wearing her academic robes and a smug smile. House peered up at her over the rims of his reading glasses. His eyes dropped momentarily to the shapeless black gown, then rose with a pleading look.
“Please tell me you’re not wearing anything under there.”
“I’m not wearing anything under here,” Cuddy said promptly.
“Liar.” House stared at her sullenly. “You’re just here to torment me.”
“Yes.”
House’s expression grew wary. “Why are you being so disagreeably agreeable?”
“Because I know this is a difficult day for you,” Cuddy said with mock sympathy. “Henry now has the letters ‘M’ and ‘D’ after his name.”
“So what? So do lots of idiots. Even you do, although in your case they stand for Mistress of Darkness.”
“He’s a doctor,” Cuddy said firmly.
“Proves nothing,” House said.
“Of course it doesn’t...except that you were wrong.” Then, just for emphasis, she leaned over his desk and repeated, “Wroooooong.”
“So Scooter graduated medical school. How does that prove anything?”
“It proves that some people can be counted on. It proves that some risks are worth taking.” Cuddy stared at him. “It proves that some dreams can come true.”
“It proves that one ridiculously old fraud is capable of finishing school when subsidized by the Dean of Medicine. And you still get nothing in return.” House slumped in his chair, glaring sullenly up at her. “One old guy kept one promise. That is not a basis for hope.”
“That’s exactly what it is. If every guy kept every promise, hope wouldn’t be necessary. If no guy kept any promise, hope would die. But when one guy keeps one promise--that’s what hope is made of.”
“It’s not like he’s even finished,” House protested as Cuddy sashayed triumphantly toward the door. “He still has to do a residency.”
“He is. In diagnostic medicine.” Cuddy glanced back over her shoulder, as she pulled on the door handle. “He’ll be here bright and early Monday morning.”
“What? No,” House complained, immediately sitting up straight in his chair. “You can’t do that.”
“Can. Did.” Cuddy smiled brightly.
“I don’t need a resident.” House waved at the conference room. “I’ve already got three useless fellows, one of whom hates Scooter.” House paused, thinking about that scenario. “This could be interesting.”
“You’re welcome,” Cuddy said. “And you owe me five hundred dollars.”
“My last hooker was half as expensive and twice as good,” House called after her as she headed down the hall, ignoring him. He ignored her right back, for the moment, and turned toward the conference room with an evil glint in his eye. He grabbed his cane and hurried toward the door. “Hey, Taub, guess what?”
I thought I had my rarepair fic done...then decided deleted an entire scene and now have to rewrite both the preceeding and subsequent scenes. My original fic needed some major revisions only being not a true child of the computer age, I find it difficult to scroll back and forth thru approximately 80 pages. So I printed it all off and literally cut and pasted (okay, taped, not pasted) the scenes together. I got the revisions made but seems like it should've been easier.
Anyhoo, I did finish one fic written purely because I miss Scooter. I need to find a reason to keep the character in the House-verse, in fanon if not canon. The fic ended up being more about House and Cuddy but Scooter's there. And Wilson. And...tho I got pretty wordy, there's not much more point to it than keeping Scooter around.
Conspiracy of Hope
House pushed through the outer door and stalked into the small office between the clinic and Cuddy’s seat of power. He fully intended to march right through and into the inner sanctum. He was on a mission after all. He certainly didn’t intend to pay attention to the drone at the desk. There was no point; the drones never lasted long. He was beginning to wonder if the ongoing renovations around the hospital didn’t have more to do with Cuddy’s need to dispose of bodies than with any desire to improve the hospital’s appearance.
“Ridiculously Old Fraud.” House stopped, head tilted in a questioning manner when he realized this drone was a familiar one.
“Dr. House. How are you?” Henry smiled up at House from his seat, his expression, as always, holding just a hint of smug amusement.
“Are you visiting?” House asked hopefully.
“Working,” Henry said as he reached for his phone. “Shall I tell Dr. Cuddy you’d like to see her?”
“Thanks, but it’s easier to see her when she doesn’t know I want to see her.” House reached for the door, his brow wrinkled as he studied Henry with a bemused expression for another beat. Then the door closed almost soundlessly behind him when he finally let himself into Cuddy’s office, striding forcefully toward her desk.
“You hired my reject,” House said.
“So?”
“That says something.”
“Really?” Cuddy said without looking away from her computer screen. “What?”
Confused, House’s footsteps faltered momentarily. “You hired a man I rejected,” he repeated. “That would seem to indicate you’re somewhat beneath me on the food chain.”
Cuddy looked up with an expression of weary frustration. “You didn’t hire Henry because he wasn’t good at doctor stuff. I did hire him because he is good at non-doctor stuff. You’re not better than me, you’re simply playing on a different field.”
“I didn’t dump Scooter because he’s not a good doctor. He is, or would be if he actually were a doctor.”
“Then why didn’t you hire him?” Cuddy gave House a skeptical stare. “And I ask because I know you wouldn’t have rejected him over a technicality like not having a medical license.”
“He’s too much like me.” House started to pace toward the bookshelves then turned back. “I need someone who’ll give me different ideas, not recycle my own.”
“And I need someone with at least a rudimentary grasp of the alphabet and who isn’t terrified of you.”
House merely scoffed. “If you insist on having a fake doctor, you could’ve hired Dr. Buffer. He’s not afraid of me either.”
“I don’t need a janitor. I need an assistant,” Cuddy said. “And Lou already has a job. Henry didn’t.”
“Scooter took a leave of absence to apply here. He didn’t need a new job.”
“Well, I needed a new assistant so I offered him a job.”
“Why him?”
“Why not?” Cuddy asked. “He’s smart, he’s organized, and...I like him.”
“My god.” House looked at her in disgust. “It’s like one of the Angels trying to jump Bosley--it’s unnatural.”
“Why are you here?” Cuddy asked, a resigned sigh escaping her.
“Good question,” House said as he struggled to recall his original reason for braving the seat of administrative power. He’d had a mission, he knew that much. His mind was enthralled by a new puzzle now, though. “Tell you what--I’ll let you know as soon as I remember.”
“I’m awash in anticipation,” Cuddy muttered as he left as quickly as he’d arrived.
~~**~~
“Did you know Cuddy had hired Scooter?” House asked as he plopped down on the couch in Wilson’s office.
Wilson glanced over at him, a wary expression on his face. “Since, unlike you I’m not afraid of Cuddy, I actually do go to her office and therefore yes, I did know she’d hired Henry.” Wilson frowned. “I also know you invited Henry to join your poker game.”
“Only once,” House said dismissively. “And why aren’t you afraid of Cuddy? Every other male on the planet is. Then again, maybe that explains it.”
“Only once? I assume that means you couldn’t bluff him,” Wilson said, ignoring the slight to his manhood.
“He cheated.”
“Of course, he did,” Wilson muttered.
“Why would she hire him?”
“Well, my guess is he’s actually qualified to do the job. And he’s not afraid of you.”
“That’s what she said.”
“And therefore it can’t be true,” Wilson said in a resigned tone.
“No, but it is interesting.”
“I assume you mean interesting in the sense that there’s a global conspiracy involved,” Wilson said as he picked up his pen and began charting again.
“Conspiracy theories are lame.” House looked around, beating a muffled tattoo against carpet with his cane. “It’s interesting that Cuddy hired my reject. That she’s hired all my rejects. Foreman quit and she hired him back to be my bête noire--literally. I fired Chase and she gave him a job in surgery. Cameron quit in a fit of pique, or sexual frustration, and Cuddy hired her back in the E.R. And now there’s Scooter.”
“Cuddy hasn’t hired all your rejects,” Wilson said pointedly.
“Didn’t need to. Amber’s got you to keep her close to the action.”
Wilson shook his head, pressing his lips tightly together to suppress the exasperated sighs House always provoked. “She didn’t hire Terzy back either.”
“Too much competition,” House said smugly.
“You know what? I don’t care.” Wilson held his hands, palms out, as if that would stop House’s paranoia from reaching him. ”I’m not getting in the middle of this.”
House harrumphed as he got to his feet. “You can’t get out of the middle of this.”
~~**~~
Cuddy reached for her phone to call Henry in with a file she needed. Just as she lifted the receiver, Henry pushed through the door. “The quarterly epidemiology reports you wanted.”
“How did you...?” Cuddy shook her head as she replaced the phone. She got up from behind her desk and took the reports, tossing them on the pile of other folders on the desk. “May I ask you a question?”
Henry had already turned to go back to his office but he stopped and faced Cuddy. “Shoot.”
“Why didn’t you ever enroll in medical school?” Cuddy asked as she leaned her ass back against her desk.
“I got married young. We had kids. I had responsibilities.” Henry gave a seemingly careless shrug, his hands deep in his pockets as he stood in front of her. “It was difficult enough to finish my undergraduate degree. I had an opportunity for a steady job with good benefits so I took it. My family had already made enough sacrifices.”
“But later....”
“Later....” Henry chuckled. “Kids don’t get less expensive as they get older. Then they went to college themselves and then...and then I looked around and realized I was too old to compete with the young guns.”
“Yet you applied for House’s fellowship.”
He ducked his head and gave a dry laugh. Then he looked up at Cuddy with a faintly embarrassed expression. “I couldn’t resist. I figured the worst that could happen was I’d get to play doctor for a couple of days, maybe a couple of weeks. And you know what? It was worth it.”
Cuddy twisted and reached for a dark blue folder on the desk behind her. She turned back and pulled a sheet of paper from the file, handing it to Henry.
“What...?”
“It’s your transcript.”
“But why...?” Henry looked down at the page, peering at it through his glasses. “This isn’t mine. This is a transcript from the Princeton Medical School.”
“We gave you credit for the classes you audited at Columbia.” Cuddy pulled a couple more pages from the folder and held them out to him. “There are a few classes where we’re going to require that you take an exam before giving you credit, just to be sure. The classes are listed there. There’s also a password. You can get the syllabus, sample tests, and assignments from the website.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“The problem is we can only give you credit for the academic work.” Cuddy continued speaking as if Henry hadn’t, raising her voice just slightly to overpower his.
“I don’t have the clinical experience,” Henry said with a resigned nod. He started to turn but stopped, confused, when Cuddy shoved the last page from the file at him. He glanced down at it, skimming the information, then looked up at Cuddy with a slightly bewildered expression.
“It’s your clinical rotation schedule.” Cuddy turned and headed back around her desk without another word, leaving Henry to stare at her. He shuffled his feet as if he didn’t know which direction to go.
“Dr. Cuddy, I....”
“Graduate,” Cuddy said tersely in obvious dismissal. “Or I will bust your ass.”
~~**~~
House barged into the exam room and turned, only to stop short when he spied an unexpected observer. “Scooter?”
“Dr. House.” Henry held out the patient’s file and House reached blindly for it, his eyes fixed on Henry. “Good to see you.”
“The question is why am I seeing you here, seeing as you’re not a doctor?”
“He’s not a doctor?” the patient interjected. She tugged the crinkled paper of the exam gown around her chest and stared at Henry.
“He’s a secretary,” House said.
“Administrative assistant and I’m also medical student.” Henry gave the confused woman a warm smile. “That’s why Dr. House is here to supervise.”
“But...you’re not a doctor.” She pointed her finger at Henry. “You saw my breasts.”
“Even secretaries deserve a little fun,” House told her. He gestured abruptly for her to loosen the gown again. He settled on the wheeled stool and glanced over at Henry. “So?”
“Patient presented with redness and swelling of the left breast and fever.”
“Not ‘so’ the patient,” House said irritably as he rolled himself closer to the exam table. “So what are you doing here?”
“I’m doing a clinical rotation.”
“Since when?”
“Since Dr. Cuddy arranged for me to receive credit for all the med school classes I audited,” Henry said.
“Do I need to write you a prescription for Viagra? Or did you take the easy way out and just sell your soul to her?” House asked as he put the earpieces for the stethoscope in his ears.
“I didn’t make any deal. She didn’t ask me for anything.” Henry gave House a long, pointed look. “Dr. Cuddy doesn’t play games.”
“Of course she does,” House countered. “She just makes it look like she’s not playing games.”
~~**~~
“You’re hopeless,” House announced. “Which is kind of ironic since what you’re hopeless about is hope.”
“What happened now?” Cuddy asked. She was crouching by the file cabinet, pulling a stack of folders from the bottom drawer. “Did you just now realize I’ve put parental controls on your computer? Or....”
“You’re putting Scooter through med school.” House’s grin was one of sheer disbelief. “You actually think a sixty-year-old clerk is going to become a doctor.”
“Henry’s already put himself through med school,” Cuddy said as she got to her feet. “I’m just helping him fill in a few missing credits.”
“Because you think he’s going to realize his dream.” House threw his hands up, incredulous. “You actually think he’s going to get the brass ring, he’s going climb that mountain, he’s going to....”
“Yes,” Cuddy said, cutting him off sharply. “I do believe it. Why is that such a problem for you?”
“An empty bed and an empty womb aren’t enough disappointment?”
Cuddy gave him furious look, her lips pressed together thinly. Then she tore her eyes away from him and sat down abruptly at her desk. House waited for the explosion as she started leafing through the folders in a somewhat aggressive fashion. But the explosion never came.
“God, Cuddy....” House rubbed his fingers across the grooves in his forehead. “Why do you do this to yourself? There’s no such thing as a happy ending.”
“Fifty bucks says Henry gets his medical degree,” Cuddy said. House snorted and turned away. “Fine. Five hundred.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Don’t tell me when I’m serious.” Cuddy planted her elbows on the desk, hands clasped together, and stared at him defiantly. “Afraid to take the bet? Afraid to lose a little money or just afraid to have a little faith in someone?”
“The money isn’t the issue,” House said. “It’s the loss of faith--your faith.”
“I will never lose faith.”
“Which is why you’ll never be happy.”
“Yeah?” Cuddy gave him a challenging look. “Then what faith is it that’s keeping you from being happy?”
~~**~~
“I tried to give these to Henry but he’s not here.” Wilson held up the sheaf of papers in his hand, one foot in Cuddy’s office, the other lingering back in Henry’s domain.
“I’ll take care of it,” Cuddy said, motioning for Wilson to set the report on her desk.
“Of course. Because you’ve got so much free time.” Wilson tapped the papers against his palm as he approached. “Maybe you should think about getting a full time assistant.”
“I have a full time assistant.”
“Who’s spending half his time doing his clinical rotations. Henry’s good, but he can’t do two full time jobs.”
“It’s temporary,” Cuddy snapped, pointing once again at her desk.
Wilson reluctantly set the report on the corner, then backed away a few steps. “Why are you doing this?”
“Oh god,” Cuddy muttered. She looked up and gave Wilson an impatient shake of her head. “I understand the question from House, but from you?”
“I think it’s great you’re helping Henry. I also think you can’t do his job and yours so why not let him concentrate on finishing his degree and find someone else to do the administrative work?”
“Henry needs this job. His wife doesn’t work and his youngest child is still in college. Without a full-time job he can’t finish his degree.”
“Henry’s divorced and his kids are out of school.”
“You weren’t supposed to know that,” Cuddy muttered.
“Why lie about it?”
“Why do I need an excuse?” she shot back. “Why do I need to have a reason for hiring a man to do a job he is well qualified to do and encouraging him to finish his education?”
“You’re over-working yourself to salvage someone else’s dream,” Wilson pointed out quietly.
“Well, why not?” Cuddy asked bitterly, throwing her hands up in frustration. “It’s not like I can salvage mine.”
~~**~~
Wilson crossed the lobby, shoulders slumped. He was wearing the same t-shirt, jeans and sneakers he’d pulled on that morning. It wasn’t the most professional appearance but it was Saturday and besides, a white coat made up for a plethora of fashion failings.
His footsteps faltered as he crossed by the clinic. Through two sets of doors he could see Henry moving around by his desk. Like Wilson, Henry was wearing casual clothing: jeans, tennis shoes, and a Columbia sweatshirt. Curious, Wilson made his way through the empty clinic. “I didn’t realize you worked on Saturdays.”
“Technically, I don’t,” Henry agreed, nodding at Wilson in greeting. “But I got a little behind because of my clinical so I thought I’d come in and catch up.”
“Good,” Wilson said. He noticed a curious frown from Henry and hastened to explain. “I had noticed a certain amount of backlog when I was in Cuddy’s office the other day.”
“And you’re worried that Dr. Cuddy will end up doing my job as well as her own.”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Wilson admitted.
“Don’t worry.” Henry was so calm as he moved a hefty pile of requisitions to the middle of his desk that Wilson wondered if anything ever rattled him. “If it gets too much, I’ll drop my clinical.”
“Technically solving the problem, and yet I don’t think that’s the solution Dr. Cuddy would like.”
“A little disappointment is better than working herself into a stroke.”
“Again,” Wilson said. “Not the solution I think Cuddy is looking for.”
“But you could live with it,” Henry suggested, one eyebrow raised in a knowing gesture.
“I....” Wilson massaged his neck. “It’s not just about you anymore.”
“House,” Henry agreed. “You think Dr. Cuddy will go too far to help me because she doesn’t want him to have the last word.”
“And House may go too far in order to prove her wrong.”
“Why do I suddenly feel like the wishbone at Thanksgiving dinner?” Henry said dryly. He shrugged good-naturedly. “I can’t stop either one of them from their strange competition, but I have no intention of playing into it.”
“Take it from a man who’s been there,” Wilson said. “Your intentions don’t really figure into their plans.”
~~**~~
“Where’s Henry?” House asked, pressing up against Cuddy’s back as she reached for a salad.
“At this very moment...I don’t know.” Cuddy grabbed a container of yogurt and set that on her tray, too, before pushing on to the cashier. She handed over a bill to pay for her lunch, then slapped House’s hand when he tried to sneak his hand over hers in a bid for the change.
“I have some very important supplies that need to be ordered,” House said, following Cuddy as she headed for the corner of the cafeteria. “Very important.”
“Leave the requisitions on Henry’s desk and I’m sure he’ll get to it ASAP,” Cuddy said, still maintaining a fairly even tone. She pulled out a chair and took a seat at a small table which had only one chair. Undaunted, he simply grabbed a chair from another table and made himself at home across the table from her.
“Have you come to your senses yet?”
“I haven’t fired you, have I?” Cuddy retorted.
“Just admit this isn’t going to work,” House said.
“It’s working just fine.”
“For Scooter, maybe. For you, not so much.” House snatched a packet of crackers from her tray and started to unwrap them. “You’re getting nothing out of it.”
“Exactly,” Cuddy retorted. “But then, I’ve already got nothing. Wilson has nothing. You refuse to have anything. I’d be thrilled to see just one person find his dream.”
“He’s a secretary. A clerk. He’s on the backside of middle age and six months ago you didn’t even know his name.”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t care. I’m just curious.”
“You’re insane,” Cuddy said. “And...you’re jealous.”
“Of Scooter?”
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Cuddy asked, a smugly delighted grin lighting her face. “You said he’s as good as you are, which wasn’t a problem as long as he wasn’t actually a doctor. Now....”
“Now that’s insane.”
“Don’t worry, House. Henry will never outshine you,” Cuddy said in a sweetly supportive tone. “He doesn’t have the time to build up a reputation like yours, and he’s too nice to have a personality like yours. He’ll never be as famous as you are, in any way.”
“He’ll never be as famous because he’ll never be a doctor.”
“Want to double that bet?” Cuddy asked pointedly. House merely pushed back from the table and walked heavily toward the door.
~~**~~
“You paged?” Henry entered House’s office with a mildly curious look on his face.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did,” Henry said, waving his pager at House.
“Probably Cuddy, seeing as how you two are so close these days.”
“Dr. Cuddy doesn’t sign her pages. Especially not with the words Love Muffin.” Henry planted his hands deep in the pockets of his lab coat. “What do you have against me becoming a doctor?”
“I don’t care either way whether you become a doctor.”
“Then it’s about Dr. Cuddy. Is this just an opportunity for some random aggravation or is there a point to it?”
“There’s always a point,” House said.
“And the point is...you’re jealous?”
“Of you?” House scoffed. “Hey, I could’ve had her. I turned her down.”
Henry studied him quietly for a moment, then gave a small nod. “You did have her, and she dumped you.”
“I just said....”
“If you’d dumped her, you wouldn’t still be chasing after her,” Henry said. “Hell, I’m not sure you even really want her, but she said no and that drives you crazy. And that’s not what I meant anyway.”
“You accused me of being jealous.”
“Yes, but not sexually, not in reference to me.” Henry paused, his gaze somewhat unfocused as he put his thoughts into words. “Dr. Cuddy is giving me special treatment. She’s bending the rules, bending over backward to give me what I need.”
“Trust me--Cuddy bends over for lots of guys.” House shifted in his chair when Henry’s only response was to stare. “Seriously, you think I’m jealous of her attention?”
“Yes. You’re used to being the ‘special’ one. The one who gets Dr. Cuddy’s time and attention…and respect. You’re afraid you’re going to lose that now.”
“That’s just so ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Henry asked, gazing at House. “Then what are you trying to accomplish?”
“I’m trying to teach Cuddy a lesson.” House looked up, stubborn and belligerent. “She needs to stop believing in fairy tales.”
“Do you really think Dr. Cuddy will change her world view because I fail to become a doctor?”
“Of course not, people don’t change,” House said firmly.
“Then what’s the point?”
“It’s subtle, but it’s there,” House insisted. “Unlike you, who’s just there.”
“Fine.” Henry held his hands up in a placating gesture as he turned for the door.
“It really isn’t about you,” House called after him.
“I know. And it’s not about Dr. Cuddy,” Henry said, glancing back over his shoulder as he opened the door. “It’s about you.”
~~**~~
“Why are you so convinced Henry will blow this chance?”
“If he really cared about being a doctor he would’ve done it before now.”
“Maybe he had other obligations. Maybe his wife wouldn’t let him. Maybe he couldn’t afford medical school.” Wilson paused and stared at House from the chair in the corner, anticipating his response. “Or maybe he just needed someone to believe in him.”
“Oh...god,” House exclaimed dramatically, rolling his eyes heavenward as he leaned back in his chair.
“More to the point,” Wilson continued unfazed. “If you’re so sure Henry will fail, why do you need to sabotage him?”
“Because it’ll take too long if I leave it up to him. Cuddy needs to learn her lesson now.”
“She’s not going to learn anything except that you’re capable of destroying a man’s dreams. And she already knows that.”
“I’m not trying to destroy Bosley’s dream,” House said as he grabbed the ball from his desk and started bouncing it off the wall of the conference room. “Cuddy’s--yes. Bosley’s--no.”
“Is it really so bad for Cuddy to want him to become Dr. Bosley?”
“The real Bosley didn’t need a title,” House said disdainfully.
“You do realize there was no ‘real’ Bosley?” Wilson pointed out.
“Why do you have such a problem with me having a problem?” House caught the ball and rolled it between his palms as he waited for Wilson’s explanation.
“Because your problems tend to become everyone’s problems.” Wilson gestured at the conference where three people were sitting around the table. “You’ve got a new team to explore and humiliate. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“They’re boring. I hired them to fill a purpose. They do. End of interest.” House gave an exasperated sigh at Wilson’s puzzled expression and pointed at his fellows. “Taub is a cheating Jew--consider him your understudy. Kutner is insane, which will be useful for distracting Cuddy from what I’m doing.”
“And 13?”
“Gotta have something to look at.”
“There’s a word for people like you,” Wilson said as he pushed up from the chair and headed for the door.
“Genius.”
“Not the word I was thinking.”
~~**~~
Cuddy walked in to House’s office wearing her academic robes and a smug smile. House peered up at her over the rims of his reading glasses. His eyes dropped momentarily to the shapeless black gown, then rose with a pleading look.
“Please tell me you’re not wearing anything under there.”
“I’m not wearing anything under here,” Cuddy said promptly.
“Liar.” House stared at her sullenly. “You’re just here to torment me.”
“Yes.”
House’s expression grew wary. “Why are you being so disagreeably agreeable?”
“Because I know this is a difficult day for you,” Cuddy said with mock sympathy. “Henry now has the letters ‘M’ and ‘D’ after his name.”
“So what? So do lots of idiots. Even you do, although in your case they stand for Mistress of Darkness.”
“He’s a doctor,” Cuddy said firmly.
“Proves nothing,” House said.
“Of course it doesn’t...except that you were wrong.” Then, just for emphasis, she leaned over his desk and repeated, “Wroooooong.”
“So Scooter graduated medical school. How does that prove anything?”
“It proves that some people can be counted on. It proves that some risks are worth taking.” Cuddy stared at him. “It proves that some dreams can come true.”
“It proves that one ridiculously old fraud is capable of finishing school when subsidized by the Dean of Medicine. And you still get nothing in return.” House slumped in his chair, glaring sullenly up at her. “One old guy kept one promise. That is not a basis for hope.”
“That’s exactly what it is. If every guy kept every promise, hope wouldn’t be necessary. If no guy kept any promise, hope would die. But when one guy keeps one promise--that’s what hope is made of.”
“It’s not like he’s even finished,” House protested as Cuddy sashayed triumphantly toward the door. “He still has to do a residency.”
“He is. In diagnostic medicine.” Cuddy glanced back over her shoulder, as she pulled on the door handle. “He’ll be here bright and early Monday morning.”
“What? No,” House complained, immediately sitting up straight in his chair. “You can’t do that.”
“Can. Did.” Cuddy smiled brightly.
“I don’t need a resident.” House waved at the conference room. “I’ve already got three useless fellows, one of whom hates Scooter.” House paused, thinking about that scenario. “This could be interesting.”
“You’re welcome,” Cuddy said. “And you owe me five hundred dollars.”
“My last hooker was half as expensive and twice as good,” House called after her as she headed down the hall, ignoring him. He ignored her right back, for the moment, and turned toward the conference room with an evil glint in his eye. He grabbed his cane and hurried toward the door. “Hey, Taub, guess what?”