Decorating House - a House MD fanfic
Title Decorating House
Author: hilandmum
Rating: PG
Summary:What would happen if Stephen Fry had guest starred on House? House has to save his whiteboard to save his world.
Decorating House - Chapter 1
Nigel Cruikshank, a tall man with a fleshy face, a crooked nose and
intelligent eyes entered the empty Diagnostics conference room one
Monday morning with a slim, young woman named Zoe following three
steps behind.
"Oh, dear, dear, dear! I haven't arrived a moment too soon" Nigel
cried, looking around.
House stormed in from his office, demanding "Who the hell are you and
what are you doing here?"
Nigel's eyes travelled up and down as he took in the diagnostician's
appearance and registered increasing dismay "Yes, well we'll have to
get to you later. First things first." He walked over to the
whiteboard. "This will have to go. It's too glaring, too white."
House replied "They don't call it a blueboard."
"No" Nigel agreed. "But a nice light blue would be so much more
conducive to an efficient workplace, don't you know. Zoe, my pet,
make a note."
Zoe dutifully began to write this down. "Yes, Mr. Cruikshank."
Nigel removed a tape measure from his pocket and began walking around
the room, stopping now and then to take measurements.
Cameron entered, followed closely by Chase and Foreman, confusion
all over their faces. "What's going on here?" she asked.
House folded his arms a la Cameron and said "Maybe you can figure it
out."
"Who's the bloke with the measuring tape?" Chase asked.
Nigel was playing with the blinds pulls. "These blinds will never do.
Roman shades, that's what we want." He half-turned to House and the
ducklings. "What do you think? Dali and Chagall on the walls?"
House nodded at Cameron. "That's what I keep her around for."
Nigel looked at her and the boys. "Oh, yes, I see your point. The
blond one's quite decorative too."
Cameron and Chase looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
Nigel then moved towards the table. "What's this?"
House enunciated like he was talking to a five-year-old or a cretin.
"I believe they call it a table. This is a conference room, and
that's a conference table."
"But, my dear fellow, it's (he raised his voice) GLASS." Nigel
shuddered. "Oh, well, that's a good start. Come along Zoe, we've got
lots to do here, lots to do." And with that he left four very
astonished doctors.
Chapter 2
The ducklings watched Cruikshank and Zoe leave with matching looks
of astonishment, but House was beyond that, beyond annoyed even.
He was determined. His mind raced with ways to keep the decorator
from touching his conference room. He stormed off to enlist an
ally.
He knocked once before barging into Wilson's office. So much for
manners.
"What now House?" the oncologist asked.
"You get a visit from our new Martha Stewart?" House asked.
"You mean Nigel?" Wilson countered.
"What, you're on first-name basis with him? Is he your new bestest
friend?" Two questions at once, upping the ante.
But Wilson had had enough of the question game. "He was in here
earlier."
"So, what? Is he removing your desk to make the office roomier?
Replacing your Hitchcock poster with Andy Warhol?" House wasn't
finished with the game.
"Actually he liked it all" Wilson replied with a smirk, knowing it
wasn't what House wanted to hear. "He's just going to replace my
desk chair with a Shiatsu massage chair."
House's eyes went wide. "You think I can get one of those?"
"If you play your cards right" Wilson told him.
So House left, rethinking his next steps.
Chapter 3.
House was ready to set his minions to work on the case, but just
before reentering the conference room he changed his mind. Before
he put any of his plas into motion he needed more intel, so he
changed direction and limped off to talk to the source.
No, not Nurse Brenda or Nurse Katie. Rumors, gossip and inuendos
wouldn't cut it this time. No, what he needed were facts.
"What the hell is going on here?" he shouted, barging into Cuddy's
inner sanctum, right passed this week's assistant.
"Well, we diagnose and heal the sick, mend broken bones..." the
administrator began explaining patiently.
"Yeah, yeah" he shouted dismissively. "What's the deal with Sir
Twinkletoes?"
Cuddy smiled at him as one might at a difficult child. He'd given
her lots of practice doing that. "One of our donors has offered us
one million dollars."
"To redecorate?"
"We have to use the first third on redecorating the hospital before
we get the other two thirds for equipment and additional staff" she
explained.
"Let me get this straight. Three hundred and thirty-three thousand,
three hundred and thirty-three dollars and thirty-three and a third
cents has to be spent on paint and new furniture before we can buy
a new MRI machine?" House couldn't believe the stupidity of this.
"They'll let us use the whole penny for medical use" Cuddy corrected.
"So why my conference room? It's comfy. We've used it just fine for
years."
"House, I know you don't like change. But maybe this once change will
be good."
House had heard enough. But as he left a new plan was forming in his
twisted mind. He could send Chase to talk to the decorator. They
spoke the same language. But he had a feeling the decorator could
convince Chase to see things his way. And Foreman couldn't care less,
didn't feel strongly about the sanctity of the whiteboard.
No, Cameron was the man for the job. OK, woman. Now he just had to
convince her what had to be done and why.
Chapter 4.
House found Cameron in the lab, testing the equipment with standard
samples.
"I need you" he said quietly, startling her.
Her eyes lit up and he realized she had the wrong idea. "What I
obviously meant was I need you to talk to Carruthers" he said.
"Convince him to spend three hundred and thirty-three thousand, three
hundred and thirty-three dollars and thirty-three cents on something
other than my conference room."
"Three hundred and thirty-three thousand, three hundred and thirty-
three dollars?" Cameron asked, so confused that she didn't even
bother to correct him on the decorator's name.
"And thirty-three cents. He's here to spend exactly that amount on
redecorating parts of the hospital."
"That's a lot of money!" she exclaimed.
House nodded. "Maybe you can get him to spend it in the public areas"
he suggested.
"Why me?" she asked. "Chase and Foreman have as much decorating
sense as I do."
He closed one eye and scrunched up his face. Finally he answered "But
you can sell an idea better than they can. Maybe get him to start
with the clinic. New chairs in the waiting area, that sort of thing."
"More comfortable ones, you mean?" She still wasn't sure where he
was going.
"No! Less comfortable. Then only the sickest of the sickly will stick
it out waiting for a doctor" he explained.
Cameron smirked at him, but shrugged and said "OK", then started to
leave.
"Oh, and Cameron? I still want a Shiatsu massage chair like the one
he promised Wilson."
He didn't have to see her face to know she'd rolled her eyes at that
one.
Chapter 5.
Cameron set off to find Cruikshank and his assistant, Zoe. Since the
first idea House wanted her to pitch concerned the clinic, she tried
there first. Maybe the decorator already had some ideas for that
area.
But they weren't there. Nurse Brenda hadn't seen them, and neither
had anyone else. Where to next? Cameron looked at her watch. It was
almost noon. She could look for them in the cafeteria and at the
same time grab some lunch.
Sure enough they were sitting at a table, eating sandwiches and
looking around, not so much at their surroundings as at the doctors
and nurses. Perfect!
"Hello, Mr. Cruikshank" Cameron greeted him with her warmest smile.
"Ah, Dr. Cameron, isn't it?" he replied. "Won't you have a seat?"
Cameron wondered how he knew her name, then realized he was looking
at her badge. She put her tray on the table and sat down.
"I guess you've found many areas of the hospital that could use
refurbishing" she began, hopefully.
"Regrettably, no" he replied, with a slight shake of his head.
"Oh." Cameron frowned. Then something occurred to her. "What about
this place?" She swept her arm around, indicating the entire
cafeteria.
"Yes, well, it's hardly remarkable" Cruikshank said.
"It's boring, almost depressing" Cameron said, deciding to pour it
on. "The doctors, nurses and other personnel who use it spend their
lives dealing with sickness and even death. They need a calming and
cheerful place to eat their lunches." She was almost pleading by the
time she finished.
Cruikshank seemed to look around him with different eyes. "You do
have a point."
"Of course I do" she said.
"Yes, I can see it now" Cruikshank said, forming a square with his
thumbs and forefingers, inches from his eyes. "Lots of wood, yes,
and leather. Browns and taupes. To match the food, don't you know."
Cameron did her best not to gag. "No, not the gentlemen's club look.
I was thinking more of an oasis."
"An oasis? Hmmm. Palm trees and sand. Maybe some flamingos" he mused.
"Maybe they can add more fish to the menu. Write that down, Zoe" he
told his assistant, who'd been listening to the conversation with
a quizzical expression on her face.
Cameron couldn't stop a minor eye roll. 'Let's try again' she thought
but said "Can't it be more like a nice restaurant?"
Cruikshank sighed. He looked again at the hospital-green walls, the
industrial chrome of the serving line, the sterile gray plastic
furniture. "Oh, I have the most excellent idea!" he exclaimed. "We
should turn this into an attractive restaurant!"
'Hmmm, where did I hear that before?' Cameron muttered under her
breath. But at least he was thinking along the right lines. Now she
needed to achieve the second part of her mission. "I understand
you're replacing Dr. Wilson's desk chair" she ventured.
"Oh, yes" the decorator confirmed. "Such a nice man!"
"Dr. House could use one of those massage chairs" she suggested. "It
might relieve some of his physical pain."
Cruikshank narrowed his eyes. "Well, we'll just have to see if there
are funds left to do that" he said, dismissing the idea.
Cameron just hoped she'd have another chance to persuade him.
Chapter 6.
Cameron decided to report back to House about her progress with
Cruikshank. She found him where she expected, sitting on the other
side of the cafeteria with Wilson, who'd probably paid for the
Reuben that House was eating.
"I think I convinced Mr. Cruikshank to spend most of the money on
redecorating the cafeteria" she said brightly. She was very proud
of herself.
House looked around him. "How can it be redecorated? It was never
decorated in the first place" he said. "What about, you know, the
other little thing?"
It was clear that House didn't want her to mention what 'the other
little thing' was in front of Wilson.
"Well, I didn't hit a home run, but I think I got to first base" she
said cryptically. Cameron using a sports metaphor was always cryptic.
"Wait a minute" a bewildered Wilson said. "You got to first base with
Cruikshank?"
"No! I mean..." Cameron realized that Wilson misunderstood. What was
he thinking?
"You doubt she could get to first base with him?" House asked,
muddying the waters further. He looked at Cameron and thought. "We'll
talk about this later" he told her. "Now run along like a good little
girl and let the grownups finish their lunch."
After she left (and House and Wilson both watched her go), Wilson
asked "What was that all about?"
"Oh, you know kids these days. They all talk in code."
Wilson knew House was hiding something but he wasn't willing to push,
not just yet.
Later that day, after talking to Cuddy about a patient, Wilson turned
the conversation to House and the hospital redecoration.
"It sounds like House got Cameron to convince Cruikshank to
redecorate the cafeteria" Wilson said.
"How can you redecorate something that was never decorated in the
first place?" Cuddy replied.
"That's what House said" Wilson told her. "He's hoping that will use
up most of the funds available."
"He just doesn't want anything changed in his conference room" Cuddy
said. "But I think he wants one of those massage chairs like the one
you'll be getting. Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind one myself."
Wilson slammed his fist into his forehead. "That's what the 'other
thing' was!" he exclaimed. The penny had dropped.
"Huh?"
"There was something else that House had requested from Cruikshank.
That was it!" Wilson was excited to have figured it out. "Personally
I don't know why House doesn't ask another doctor" he paused to
indicate himself "to write him a prescription for a massage chair if
he wants one so much."
"If he does, why doesn't he just buy one?" Cuddy wondered.
"What? Spend his own money?" Wilson asked. "This is House
we're talking about."
"I guess so" she agreed.
"You know I think I have an idea" Wilson said.
"Am I going to like this?" Cuddy asked skeptically.
"When you get the final figures from Cruikshank, why don't you tell
House that there's just enough left over to replace his sacred
whiteboard" Wilson suggested with a gleam in his eyes.
"I'm glad you're not my best friend" Cuddy replied, but she
was grinning just as broadly as Wilson was.
Chapter 7.
Chase was alone in the conference room when House returned to Diagnostics.
He wondered if he could trust Chase to get the job done, then decided he
had to.
"Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to chat up Zena and find
out what Crankcase is planning" House announced.
"What?" Chase asked.
"Are you back on the stupid pills? I said you have to pump Chloe for
whatever she knows" House replied.
"You mean Zoe? Cruikshank's assistant?"
"Isn't that what I just said?"
Chase wasn't going to refute that. "What do you need to know?"
"For starters, which parts of the hospital he's targetting, what he's
ordering, and what it'll cost."
"That's for starters?" Chase was glum but he knew he'd better do this or
House would never let him forget that he didn't. "All right." He closed the
file he was reading, then stood up and left.
House stared at the whiteboard, twirling his cane, and wondering what else
he could do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zoe was transferring her notes from her PDA into her laptop in one of the
doctors' lounges. Short and slight, she was nevertheless a pretty girl with
a heart-shaped face surrounded by curly golden hair, with big eyes, a pert
nose and a rosebud mouth. All anyone at the hospital had ever heard her say
was "Yes Mr. Cruikshank" in a high-pitched girly voice, but she was really
a sharp cookie.
"Hi Zoe."
She looked up to see one of the doctors from Diagnostics, the cute one with
the floppy dirty blond hair, smiling at her. "Hello Dr. Chase." She always
made it a point to learn everyone's name.
"Has your boss decided what he's going to do?" Chase asked as nonchalantly
as possible. From his position it was difficult to see her computer screen
so he moved to stand near her right shoulder for a better view.
"He's concentrating on the cafeteria" she said candidly. "He has some
marvelous ideas for making it a more comfortable and relaxing restaurant"
she added. "Of course, don't tell anyone, but he got the idea from your
friend, Dr. Cameron."
"Really?"
She nodded. "Yes. Frankly, he's never had an original idea in his life."
Chase had been listening but at the same time his eyes were scanning the
list of items Zoe had typed. "Two massage chairs?" he asked, pointing to
the screen.
Zoe shrugged. "Dr. Cameron said that Dr. House wanted one so I added it.
Cruikshank will never notice." She grinned.
"But why?" Chase needed to know.
"Dr. House is dreamy!" she said, grinning even wider.
Chapter 8.
Chase wasn't sure he should tell House everything Zoe had said about
the chair. He could just say he convinced her to order it and earn
some points with House, but he knew House would see right through his
lie. Much as he didn't want to feed House's ego, he decided to come
clean.
House looked up from his PSP expectantly when he saw Chase in his
doorway.
Chase smiled. Afterall, he had good news. "Zoe's already included
your chair in her order list" he reported.
"Crumpet agreed to get me one?" House was a bit surprised.
"Cruikshank doesn't even know it's on the list. It seems that little
Miss Zoe has a crush on a certain diagnostician." Chase smirked.
House grinned. "Guess being a chick magnet has it's perks." He
realized he hadn't had to send Chase after all. "What about the
whiteboard? Is it safe?"
"The renovations to the diagnostic conference room are at the bottom
of her list under 'additional items if funds allow'."
"So how do we make sure there aren't any left?" House mused out
loud, but he could see that Chase had no idea.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week later, Cruikshank had his plans complete with estimates of
what everything would cost. He approached Cuddy's office followed,
meekly as usual, by Zoe with her laptop.
"Mr. Cruikshank, are you ready to show me what you'll be doing?"
Cuddy asked.
"Oh, most definitely" he replied. "Zoe, my pet, show this dear lady
what we have for her."
Zoe turned on the machine and opened the file containing the designs,
the itemized lists, and the estimates. But she let Cruikshank
describe his plans for the cafeteria and other parts of the hospital.
The diagnostics conference room hadn't made it to the final list.
Cuddy didn't notice that there were two massage chairs listed at
first, but when she did, she just assumed the second one was for her.
Unfortunately for Wilson's plan, the estimate came to three hundred
thirty-three thousand, two hundred and ten dollars and fifty six
cents, leaving roughly one hundred and twenty three dollars, not
enough for a whiteboard. She would have to eliminate something from
the list to make sure there was enough.
Chapter 9.
Cuddy had to talk to Wilson. She was thrilled with Cruikshank's
proposal for her hospital, her baby, her only true love. She couldn't
wait for him to do everything he's showed her. But that meant that
she had to get Wilson to give up his massage chair so that there
would be enough left to replace House's whiteboard. That's what it
came down to. She frowned and sighed, then knocked on Wilson's door.
He called for her to come in. She opened the door slowly, putting off
the inevitable.
"Hi" she said, forcing a smile.
"What's wrong?" It was obvious to Wilson that something was. "I'm
not gonna like this, am I?" He narrowed his eyes.
She shook her head. "No, you probably won't." She took a seat. "How
determined are you to ensure that House's whiteboard is replaced?"
Wilson's brown eyes were now slits. "Why?"
"Cruikshank's estimate without the new board is very close to the
total available. I'm afraid you'll have to give up your chair or let
House keep his board" she told him.
"There's gotta be another way, something else you can cut. What else
was in the estimate?" he asked.
"Wilson, the other items are essential for the hospital" she pleaded.
"I want to see the estimate" he demanded. He wouldn't give up his
chair without a fight.
But she knew if he saw the figures, he'd see that she was getting a
chair. Things were getting worse rather than better. She made one
last ditch effort. "Do you really want to screw up your friendship
more with House by doing this?"
He looked at her, and realized she was probably right. Oh, well, it
was an intriguing idea, but he could let it go. For now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About a month later, the work was done. Everyone at PPTH seemed
happy with the renovations, especially the new look of the cafeteria.
Wilson loved his new chair. Cuddy hadn't been pleased to find that
the second massage chair was for House, but she decided not to make
a stink. In fact, she went to the Sharper Image website and ordered
herself an even better one that also had a heating function.
House opened his eyes when he heard a knock at his door, hoping
against hope that it wasn't Cuddy come to order him to the clinic.
He'd been trying out all of the controls on his chair and didn't want
to be disturbed.
But it was Cruikshank filling his doorway. "I just wanted to say
'Cheerio'" he said, looking around House's office with a professional
eye. "Hmmm. This is quite nice, really" he said in surprise. "Rather
eclectic of course, but very...manly."
"I'm sooo glad I have your approval" House said sarcastically.
"Yes, well, a pity about your whiteboard and glass table" Cruikshank
went on, looking through to the conference room. "But then, there's
always next year."
"Next year?"
"Oh, yes, my good man. Hadn't you heard? The Cabots have decided to
make this an annual contribution, always with the same stipulation"
Cruikshank said with an immense smile. "Well, Cheerio, ta ta!"
House groaned inwardly as he watched Cruikshank's retreating back.
Still, his whiteboard was safe for one more year. By then he was sure
he'd think of some way to save it again.
Author: hilandmum
Rating: PG
Summary:What would happen if Stephen Fry had guest starred on House? House has to save his whiteboard to save his world.
Decorating House - Chapter 1
Nigel Cruikshank, a tall man with a fleshy face, a crooked nose and
intelligent eyes entered the empty Diagnostics conference room one
Monday morning with a slim, young woman named Zoe following three
steps behind.
"Oh, dear, dear, dear! I haven't arrived a moment too soon" Nigel
cried, looking around.
House stormed in from his office, demanding "Who the hell are you and
what are you doing here?"
Nigel's eyes travelled up and down as he took in the diagnostician's
appearance and registered increasing dismay "Yes, well we'll have to
get to you later. First things first." He walked over to the
whiteboard. "This will have to go. It's too glaring, too white."
House replied "They don't call it a blueboard."
"No" Nigel agreed. "But a nice light blue would be so much more
conducive to an efficient workplace, don't you know. Zoe, my pet,
make a note."
Zoe dutifully began to write this down. "Yes, Mr. Cruikshank."
Nigel removed a tape measure from his pocket and began walking around
the room, stopping now and then to take measurements.
Cameron entered, followed closely by Chase and Foreman, confusion
all over their faces. "What's going on here?" she asked.
House folded his arms a la Cameron and said "Maybe you can figure it
out."
"Who's the bloke with the measuring tape?" Chase asked.
Nigel was playing with the blinds pulls. "These blinds will never do.
Roman shades, that's what we want." He half-turned to House and the
ducklings. "What do you think? Dali and Chagall on the walls?"
House nodded at Cameron. "That's what I keep her around for."
Nigel looked at her and the boys. "Oh, yes, I see your point. The
blond one's quite decorative too."
Cameron and Chase looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
Nigel then moved towards the table. "What's this?"
House enunciated like he was talking to a five-year-old or a cretin.
"I believe they call it a table. This is a conference room, and
that's a conference table."
"But, my dear fellow, it's (he raised his voice) GLASS." Nigel
shuddered. "Oh, well, that's a good start. Come along Zoe, we've got
lots to do here, lots to do." And with that he left four very
astonished doctors.
Chapter 2
The ducklings watched Cruikshank and Zoe leave with matching looks
of astonishment, but House was beyond that, beyond annoyed even.
He was determined. His mind raced with ways to keep the decorator
from touching his conference room. He stormed off to enlist an
ally.
He knocked once before barging into Wilson's office. So much for
manners.
"What now House?" the oncologist asked.
"You get a visit from our new Martha Stewart?" House asked.
"You mean Nigel?" Wilson countered.
"What, you're on first-name basis with him? Is he your new bestest
friend?" Two questions at once, upping the ante.
But Wilson had had enough of the question game. "He was in here
earlier."
"So, what? Is he removing your desk to make the office roomier?
Replacing your Hitchcock poster with Andy Warhol?" House wasn't
finished with the game.
"Actually he liked it all" Wilson replied with a smirk, knowing it
wasn't what House wanted to hear. "He's just going to replace my
desk chair with a Shiatsu massage chair."
House's eyes went wide. "You think I can get one of those?"
"If you play your cards right" Wilson told him.
So House left, rethinking his next steps.
Chapter 3.
House was ready to set his minions to work on the case, but just
before reentering the conference room he changed his mind. Before
he put any of his plas into motion he needed more intel, so he
changed direction and limped off to talk to the source.
No, not Nurse Brenda or Nurse Katie. Rumors, gossip and inuendos
wouldn't cut it this time. No, what he needed were facts.
"What the hell is going on here?" he shouted, barging into Cuddy's
inner sanctum, right passed this week's assistant.
"Well, we diagnose and heal the sick, mend broken bones..." the
administrator began explaining patiently.
"Yeah, yeah" he shouted dismissively. "What's the deal with Sir
Twinkletoes?"
Cuddy smiled at him as one might at a difficult child. He'd given
her lots of practice doing that. "One of our donors has offered us
one million dollars."
"To redecorate?"
"We have to use the first third on redecorating the hospital before
we get the other two thirds for equipment and additional staff" she
explained.
"Let me get this straight. Three hundred and thirty-three thousand,
three hundred and thirty-three dollars and thirty-three and a third
cents has to be spent on paint and new furniture before we can buy
a new MRI machine?" House couldn't believe the stupidity of this.
"They'll let us use the whole penny for medical use" Cuddy corrected.
"So why my conference room? It's comfy. We've used it just fine for
years."
"House, I know you don't like change. But maybe this once change will
be good."
House had heard enough. But as he left a new plan was forming in his
twisted mind. He could send Chase to talk to the decorator. They
spoke the same language. But he had a feeling the decorator could
convince Chase to see things his way. And Foreman couldn't care less,
didn't feel strongly about the sanctity of the whiteboard.
No, Cameron was the man for the job. OK, woman. Now he just had to
convince her what had to be done and why.
Chapter 4.
House found Cameron in the lab, testing the equipment with standard
samples.
"I need you" he said quietly, startling her.
Her eyes lit up and he realized she had the wrong idea. "What I
obviously meant was I need you to talk to Carruthers" he said.
"Convince him to spend three hundred and thirty-three thousand, three
hundred and thirty-three dollars and thirty-three cents on something
other than my conference room."
"Three hundred and thirty-three thousand, three hundred and thirty-
three dollars?" Cameron asked, so confused that she didn't even
bother to correct him on the decorator's name.
"And thirty-three cents. He's here to spend exactly that amount on
redecorating parts of the hospital."
"That's a lot of money!" she exclaimed.
House nodded. "Maybe you can get him to spend it in the public areas"
he suggested.
"Why me?" she asked. "Chase and Foreman have as much decorating
sense as I do."
He closed one eye and scrunched up his face. Finally he answered "But
you can sell an idea better than they can. Maybe get him to start
with the clinic. New chairs in the waiting area, that sort of thing."
"More comfortable ones, you mean?" She still wasn't sure where he
was going.
"No! Less comfortable. Then only the sickest of the sickly will stick
it out waiting for a doctor" he explained.
Cameron smirked at him, but shrugged and said "OK", then started to
leave.
"Oh, and Cameron? I still want a Shiatsu massage chair like the one
he promised Wilson."
He didn't have to see her face to know she'd rolled her eyes at that
one.
Chapter 5.
Cameron set off to find Cruikshank and his assistant, Zoe. Since the
first idea House wanted her to pitch concerned the clinic, she tried
there first. Maybe the decorator already had some ideas for that
area.
But they weren't there. Nurse Brenda hadn't seen them, and neither
had anyone else. Where to next? Cameron looked at her watch. It was
almost noon. She could look for them in the cafeteria and at the
same time grab some lunch.
Sure enough they were sitting at a table, eating sandwiches and
looking around, not so much at their surroundings as at the doctors
and nurses. Perfect!
"Hello, Mr. Cruikshank" Cameron greeted him with her warmest smile.
"Ah, Dr. Cameron, isn't it?" he replied. "Won't you have a seat?"
Cameron wondered how he knew her name, then realized he was looking
at her badge. She put her tray on the table and sat down.
"I guess you've found many areas of the hospital that could use
refurbishing" she began, hopefully.
"Regrettably, no" he replied, with a slight shake of his head.
"Oh." Cameron frowned. Then something occurred to her. "What about
this place?" She swept her arm around, indicating the entire
cafeteria.
"Yes, well, it's hardly remarkable" Cruikshank said.
"It's boring, almost depressing" Cameron said, deciding to pour it
on. "The doctors, nurses and other personnel who use it spend their
lives dealing with sickness and even death. They need a calming and
cheerful place to eat their lunches." She was almost pleading by the
time she finished.
Cruikshank seemed to look around him with different eyes. "You do
have a point."
"Of course I do" she said.
"Yes, I can see it now" Cruikshank said, forming a square with his
thumbs and forefingers, inches from his eyes. "Lots of wood, yes,
and leather. Browns and taupes. To match the food, don't you know."
Cameron did her best not to gag. "No, not the gentlemen's club look.
I was thinking more of an oasis."
"An oasis? Hmmm. Palm trees and sand. Maybe some flamingos" he mused.
"Maybe they can add more fish to the menu. Write that down, Zoe" he
told his assistant, who'd been listening to the conversation with
a quizzical expression on her face.
Cameron couldn't stop a minor eye roll. 'Let's try again' she thought
but said "Can't it be more like a nice restaurant?"
Cruikshank sighed. He looked again at the hospital-green walls, the
industrial chrome of the serving line, the sterile gray plastic
furniture. "Oh, I have the most excellent idea!" he exclaimed. "We
should turn this into an attractive restaurant!"
'Hmmm, where did I hear that before?' Cameron muttered under her
breath. But at least he was thinking along the right lines. Now she
needed to achieve the second part of her mission. "I understand
you're replacing Dr. Wilson's desk chair" she ventured.
"Oh, yes" the decorator confirmed. "Such a nice man!"
"Dr. House could use one of those massage chairs" she suggested. "It
might relieve some of his physical pain."
Cruikshank narrowed his eyes. "Well, we'll just have to see if there
are funds left to do that" he said, dismissing the idea.
Cameron just hoped she'd have another chance to persuade him.
Chapter 6.
Cameron decided to report back to House about her progress with
Cruikshank. She found him where she expected, sitting on the other
side of the cafeteria with Wilson, who'd probably paid for the
Reuben that House was eating.
"I think I convinced Mr. Cruikshank to spend most of the money on
redecorating the cafeteria" she said brightly. She was very proud
of herself.
House looked around him. "How can it be redecorated? It was never
decorated in the first place" he said. "What about, you know, the
other little thing?"
It was clear that House didn't want her to mention what 'the other
little thing' was in front of Wilson.
"Well, I didn't hit a home run, but I think I got to first base" she
said cryptically. Cameron using a sports metaphor was always cryptic.
"Wait a minute" a bewildered Wilson said. "You got to first base with
Cruikshank?"
"No! I mean..." Cameron realized that Wilson misunderstood. What was
he thinking?
"You doubt she could get to first base with him?" House asked,
muddying the waters further. He looked at Cameron and thought. "We'll
talk about this later" he told her. "Now run along like a good little
girl and let the grownups finish their lunch."
After she left (and House and Wilson both watched her go), Wilson
asked "What was that all about?"
"Oh, you know kids these days. They all talk in code."
Wilson knew House was hiding something but he wasn't willing to push,
not just yet.
Later that day, after talking to Cuddy about a patient, Wilson turned
the conversation to House and the hospital redecoration.
"It sounds like House got Cameron to convince Cruikshank to
redecorate the cafeteria" Wilson said.
"How can you redecorate something that was never decorated in the
first place?" Cuddy replied.
"That's what House said" Wilson told her. "He's hoping that will use
up most of the funds available."
"He just doesn't want anything changed in his conference room" Cuddy
said. "But I think he wants one of those massage chairs like the one
you'll be getting. Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind one myself."
Wilson slammed his fist into his forehead. "That's what the 'other
thing' was!" he exclaimed. The penny had dropped.
"Huh?"
"There was something else that House had requested from Cruikshank.
That was it!" Wilson was excited to have figured it out. "Personally
I don't know why House doesn't ask another doctor" he paused to
indicate himself "to write him a prescription for a massage chair if
he wants one so much."
"If he does, why doesn't he just buy one?" Cuddy wondered.
"What? Spend his own money?" Wilson asked. "This is House
we're talking about."
"I guess so" she agreed.
"You know I think I have an idea" Wilson said.
"Am I going to like this?" Cuddy asked skeptically.
"When you get the final figures from Cruikshank, why don't you tell
House that there's just enough left over to replace his sacred
whiteboard" Wilson suggested with a gleam in his eyes.
"I'm glad you're not my best friend" Cuddy replied, but she
was grinning just as broadly as Wilson was.
Chapter 7.
Chase was alone in the conference room when House returned to Diagnostics.
He wondered if he could trust Chase to get the job done, then decided he
had to.
"Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to chat up Zena and find
out what Crankcase is planning" House announced.
"What?" Chase asked.
"Are you back on the stupid pills? I said you have to pump Chloe for
whatever she knows" House replied.
"You mean Zoe? Cruikshank's assistant?"
"Isn't that what I just said?"
Chase wasn't going to refute that. "What do you need to know?"
"For starters, which parts of the hospital he's targetting, what he's
ordering, and what it'll cost."
"That's for starters?" Chase was glum but he knew he'd better do this or
House would never let him forget that he didn't. "All right." He closed the
file he was reading, then stood up and left.
House stared at the whiteboard, twirling his cane, and wondering what else
he could do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zoe was transferring her notes from her PDA into her laptop in one of the
doctors' lounges. Short and slight, she was nevertheless a pretty girl with
a heart-shaped face surrounded by curly golden hair, with big eyes, a pert
nose and a rosebud mouth. All anyone at the hospital had ever heard her say
was "Yes Mr. Cruikshank" in a high-pitched girly voice, but she was really
a sharp cookie.
"Hi Zoe."
She looked up to see one of the doctors from Diagnostics, the cute one with
the floppy dirty blond hair, smiling at her. "Hello Dr. Chase." She always
made it a point to learn everyone's name.
"Has your boss decided what he's going to do?" Chase asked as nonchalantly
as possible. From his position it was difficult to see her computer screen
so he moved to stand near her right shoulder for a better view.
"He's concentrating on the cafeteria" she said candidly. "He has some
marvelous ideas for making it a more comfortable and relaxing restaurant"
she added. "Of course, don't tell anyone, but he got the idea from your
friend, Dr. Cameron."
"Really?"
She nodded. "Yes. Frankly, he's never had an original idea in his life."
Chase had been listening but at the same time his eyes were scanning the
list of items Zoe had typed. "Two massage chairs?" he asked, pointing to
the screen.
Zoe shrugged. "Dr. Cameron said that Dr. House wanted one so I added it.
Cruikshank will never notice." She grinned.
"But why?" Chase needed to know.
"Dr. House is dreamy!" she said, grinning even wider.
Chapter 8.
Chase wasn't sure he should tell House everything Zoe had said about
the chair. He could just say he convinced her to order it and earn
some points with House, but he knew House would see right through his
lie. Much as he didn't want to feed House's ego, he decided to come
clean.
House looked up from his PSP expectantly when he saw Chase in his
doorway.
Chase smiled. Afterall, he had good news. "Zoe's already included
your chair in her order list" he reported.
"Crumpet agreed to get me one?" House was a bit surprised.
"Cruikshank doesn't even know it's on the list. It seems that little
Miss Zoe has a crush on a certain diagnostician." Chase smirked.
House grinned. "Guess being a chick magnet has it's perks." He
realized he hadn't had to send Chase after all. "What about the
whiteboard? Is it safe?"
"The renovations to the diagnostic conference room are at the bottom
of her list under 'additional items if funds allow'."
"So how do we make sure there aren't any left?" House mused out
loud, but he could see that Chase had no idea.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week later, Cruikshank had his plans complete with estimates of
what everything would cost. He approached Cuddy's office followed,
meekly as usual, by Zoe with her laptop.
"Mr. Cruikshank, are you ready to show me what you'll be doing?"
Cuddy asked.
"Oh, most definitely" he replied. "Zoe, my pet, show this dear lady
what we have for her."
Zoe turned on the machine and opened the file containing the designs,
the itemized lists, and the estimates. But she let Cruikshank
describe his plans for the cafeteria and other parts of the hospital.
The diagnostics conference room hadn't made it to the final list.
Cuddy didn't notice that there were two massage chairs listed at
first, but when she did, she just assumed the second one was for her.
Unfortunately for Wilson's plan, the estimate came to three hundred
thirty-three thousand, two hundred and ten dollars and fifty six
cents, leaving roughly one hundred and twenty three dollars, not
enough for a whiteboard. She would have to eliminate something from
the list to make sure there was enough.
Chapter 9.
Cuddy had to talk to Wilson. She was thrilled with Cruikshank's
proposal for her hospital, her baby, her only true love. She couldn't
wait for him to do everything he's showed her. But that meant that
she had to get Wilson to give up his massage chair so that there
would be enough left to replace House's whiteboard. That's what it
came down to. She frowned and sighed, then knocked on Wilson's door.
He called for her to come in. She opened the door slowly, putting off
the inevitable.
"Hi" she said, forcing a smile.
"What's wrong?" It was obvious to Wilson that something was. "I'm
not gonna like this, am I?" He narrowed his eyes.
She shook her head. "No, you probably won't." She took a seat. "How
determined are you to ensure that House's whiteboard is replaced?"
Wilson's brown eyes were now slits. "Why?"
"Cruikshank's estimate without the new board is very close to the
total available. I'm afraid you'll have to give up your chair or let
House keep his board" she told him.
"There's gotta be another way, something else you can cut. What else
was in the estimate?" he asked.
"Wilson, the other items are essential for the hospital" she pleaded.
"I want to see the estimate" he demanded. He wouldn't give up his
chair without a fight.
But she knew if he saw the figures, he'd see that she was getting a
chair. Things were getting worse rather than better. She made one
last ditch effort. "Do you really want to screw up your friendship
more with House by doing this?"
He looked at her, and realized she was probably right. Oh, well, it
was an intriguing idea, but he could let it go. For now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About a month later, the work was done. Everyone at PPTH seemed
happy with the renovations, especially the new look of the cafeteria.
Wilson loved his new chair. Cuddy hadn't been pleased to find that
the second massage chair was for House, but she decided not to make
a stink. In fact, she went to the Sharper Image website and ordered
herself an even better one that also had a heating function.
House opened his eyes when he heard a knock at his door, hoping
against hope that it wasn't Cuddy come to order him to the clinic.
He'd been trying out all of the controls on his chair and didn't want
to be disturbed.
But it was Cruikshank filling his doorway. "I just wanted to say
'Cheerio'" he said, looking around House's office with a professional
eye. "Hmmm. This is quite nice, really" he said in surprise. "Rather
eclectic of course, but very...manly."
"I'm sooo glad I have your approval" House said sarcastically.
"Yes, well, a pity about your whiteboard and glass table" Cruikshank
went on, looking through to the conference room. "But then, there's
always next year."
"Next year?"
"Oh, yes, my good man. Hadn't you heard? The Cabots have decided to
make this an annual contribution, always with the same stipulation"
Cruikshank said with an immense smile. "Well, Cheerio, ta ta!"
House groaned inwardly as he watched Cruikshank's retreating back.
Still, his whiteboard was safe for one more year. By then he was sure
he'd think of some way to save it again.