[CLOSED TO HOUSE] Boss... not something else

[dean_ofmedicine]

Cuddy swooped on the Diagnostics conference room and found the team filtering out, leaving House and Chase in there by the whiteboard. Wait...

ChaseWhat

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[c18_h21_no3]

House watched as Chase stepped out of the room. Well, there goes his distraction.

Eyes jumping to Cuddy's demanding glare, House raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement, taking time to think up some... witty remark that both answers and doesn't. He kind of wish she didn't talk so loud, though, as it wasn't doing much good for the headache he was attempting to ignore.

"Way to suck out all the fun of talking to you in the first place, party pooper," he responded, turning to rest the marker on the bottom lip of the whiteboard, grabbing his cane and limping toward his office. "Nothing is going on. I'm fine," he added flatly.

Go ahead. Lie. It's not like she ever doubts you anyway, he scolded himself. It was fine. As long as he wasn't harming the patient, right?

[dean_ofmedicine]

It was on the tip of her tongue to petulantly accuse him of making Wilson resign. The only thing that would have made sense to accompany that was a childish foot stamp and tantrum. Even if Wilson resigning was House's fault, it was on Cuddy's shoulders as Dean and she was anxious about dealing with it. Blaming House would just be easy.

She followed him, of course. She wasn't giving up this one without some sort of result. "Why was Chase here?" she demanded, looming in front of him and locking her eyes on his face. "Amber, among others, think you're acting strangely. Give me reason to believe you aren't. Having Chase exit a differential isn't a good start."

[c18_h21_no3]

"How do you know Chase wasn't in here to admire my undeniably good looks and my irresistible charm?" House asked, sitting down in his office chair and resting an arm on his desk.

Noting Cuddy's expression still hadn't veered from excessive disapproval, House rolled his eyes. Don't give in too far, now. "I banged my head," he stated, nonchalant. "I'm fine. You gave me time off, I graciously took it kicking and screaming, and now I'm back. I'm fine," he reiterated.

[dean_ofmedicine]

Cuddy wasn't buying it, and she stepped in front of House to conceal his view from the whiteboard in the adjoining room. "What are your patient's presenting symptoms?" she asked. She suspected from the mere fact Wilson had come to her and told her something was wrong meant it was quite serious. He hadn't exactly elaborated, but she had from Amber that House was acting oddly when she presented the case to him. If she took House's flippant comment about the hit to the head along with everything else she already knew, House had just dumped himself right in the deep end and pointed her in the direction of head issues, and she wondered if he realised that.

[c18_h21_no3]

House had regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. Maybe he was too quick to assume Wilson had given Cuddy the details, judging from her shift in stance and revealing that rather annoying tone of voice when she thought she had the upper hand. In hindsight, House wasn't sure if he let on too much because of the headache, or because somewhere, subconsciously, he understood that he needed help.

First excuse seemed safer, he rationalized.

House stared up at Cuddy, folding his hands across his lap. "Nausea, dry cough, difficulty breathing, and hemoptysis," he answered, not letting too long of a beat pass, and hopefully destroying any suspicions Cuddy had just finished building up so hastily. "If you're looking for a good place to waste time, I hear Wilson has Mahjongg scheduled around 3."

[dean_ofmedicine]

Cuddy's hand left her hip so she could fold her arms across her chest. "Wilson's resigning." Short, succint, and like a knee to the balls. Exactly how she felt when Wilson delivered the news, and some days she figured she had bigger balls than both men combined.

[c18_h21_no3]

He had to play those words over in his mind a few times before he could register the fact that Cuddy actually had said them. House's face hadn't faltered an inch as he analyzed Cuddy's posture, trying to figure out if she actually meant it.

House shook his head. Wilson was just being a diva. He'll get over it. "No he isn't. He's just telling you he is to get a rise out of me, or out of you so you can get one out of me. Either that, or you're lying to me to con me into admitting a problem that I don't have."

[dean_ofmedicine]

Cuddy didn't say anything at first. In fact, she was silent for a few long moments, just watching him. She eventually drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know whether to be resolute that you haven't, once again, noticed Wilson might actually need a friend right now, or to give you the benefit of the doubt and label it as a symptom of this non-problem you don't have," she said evenly. "Either way is too late to stop my Head of Oncology furnishing me with his two weeks notice. I just need to decide whether to take this case off you or not in hopes of salvaging the patient's life before you kill him and yourself. I won't get a lawsuit for the latter."

[c18_h21_no3]

He'd have to talk to Wilson about this later. Now House was starting to worry. Wilson's never gone this far to prove a point.

"You won't pull me from the case." House's stare turned judgmental. "Because you know what that would mean for the patient."

[dean_ofmedicine]

Cuddy calmly reached over and picked up his phone, dialing in an extension she was more than familiar with. "Dr Volakis? When will the MRI be vacant?" She held House's gaze and nodded. "Half an hour? Perfect. The patient is Gregory House. I will be there to oversee."

She hung up the phone and stepped back again. "You don't show up to Radiology in thirty minutes, and it won't be just this case I pull you from."

[c18_h21_no3]

"What the hell-" was all he could manage before she began speaking into the receiver. Goddamnit.

House squinted, scrunching his nose in disapproval. "What are you going to do, fire me?" he challenged. "I'm not going."

Of course, he knew, at least on some level, that he needed to go. The thought of going just to shut everyone the hell up and prove all of them wrong crossed his currently dull, throbbing mind, but if that had been the case, he would have done it right off the bat. He enjoyed proving people wrong, especially if he had the opportunity to make his entire circle of colleagues look like idiots when doing so.

Quite possibly, he was maybe just a bit worried about being wrong. And that both annoyed and somewhat scared him, to an extent. If the head trauma was more than head trauma; if there was some... untreated condition or extensive injury, or worse, brain damage, did he want to know? He didn't want to know. He knew he didn't want to know.

House realized he was probably losing himself in his thoughts again.

[dean_ofmedicine]

Cuddy held up her hand and shook her head slowly. "Now is not the time to try me, House. You push me hard enough right now, and I will fire you. I'll already be recruiting for another Head of department, won't I? I'm sure Foreman will be happy to step into your shoes. Because despite the overinflated opinion you have of yourself, if your brain is damaged, you have nothing, not even the ability to soundly solve cases." The words were cold, sure, but in the wake of the last couple of months, Wilson wasn't the only one nudging breaking point. She wasn't going to let him smugly passively agressively threaten her this time. This time, she meant every word.

She moved towards the door. "Half an hour, House. It's your call." She held his gaze firmly for a few more moments and then pushed out of the glass door of his office. Next stop, Surgical Department.