It's 5 O'Clock Somewhere, Part 2
Characters, Pairing: House/Cuddy, Wilson, Cameron
Warning: Crack. Meta.
Summary: I honestly have no explanation for this. But if you've ever wondered, "who were those awful people in season 7, and where did House and Cuddy go?" then here is my gift f to you.
Comments welcome.
"Cameron? How did you get here?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"
"I got here the same way everyone here got here, and today, I'm going treasure hunting."
"Treasure hunting," House repeated dully. So, his physical state had deteriorated to the point where Cuddy, Wilson, Chase, maybe even Foreman, had called in Cameron to help with the diagnosis. This could be very ... very, very bad.
Cameron reached behind her back to tie her bikini top more tightly against her neck, perkify-ing her boobs even more. "Snorkeling in the old pirate miniseries lot. Flint and his crew offered us a ride out to one of the private cays. I've packed a picnic lunch."
"Flint," House said thoughtfully. "Sharp, rock ... What's the name of this boat?" He leaned over the stern as far as he could, blinking into the water splashing against the hull.
"Oh, for heaven's sake." Cameron planted her bare feet on the deck, grabbed House's t-shirt in both hands, and hauled him forcefully back. "It's his name. Try to not read too much into it. "
"And he conducts tours of the ruins." There must have been a secondary collapse, devastating damage... a puncture wound?
"That's just their job here," Cameron said. "In their previous career they were what they called 'extraction specialists.'"
"Surgeons?" House felt his blood pressure drop into his socks. "Tumor," he said very softly. Brain, or spinal column.
"No, you dumbass, it was an ironic way of saying that they're scam artists and thieves. And those ruins are really just a tourist trap -- seriously, one old abandoned monorail station and a few weird alien machines is not exactly Easter Island. House." Cameron put her hands on her hips. "House, listen."
"Did you say 'monorail?'" he asked.
"Yeah, as in 'one track mind,'" Cameron sighed in defeat. "How did I ever stand this?"
"Or, as in mag-lev proulsion systems. Magnets: I need an MRI."
"You need, to get your metaphorically-oriented head out of your ass and listen to me: there is less here than meets the eye. This time it is not a zebra. It's not a zebra disguised as a horse, it's not a zebra disguised as a giraffe or a zebra that looks like a camel or a zebra dressed up as Jabba the Hutt or something else. You're not hallucinating. You really are here and I really am here and this place really is real. This time we're just inside a very ugly horse."
She wrinkled her nose. "Gah. That one was nasty. How do you do this to me?"
"I'll need a signal, a spike in one of the readings, to alert Cuddy and Wilson," House concluded. "Stimulate me."
"I would take that very much amiss."
Cameron addressed the man who had come up behind her and wrapped his arm possessively around her waist. "Cab, Honey, this is House. House, this is my fiancé,"
"Stephen Cabot Spencer?" House finished incredulously, taking in the familiar imperial expression, the impeccable bearing, of the tall, athletic figure standing before him in expensive boat shoes, khakis and a pink polo shirt. "Heir to the Spencer-Worthington fortune, founder, with the late Audrey Whitman-Horne-Sydney-Baxter-Spencer, of Cabrey Cosmetics, owner of Spencer Imports, Spencer Towers, Spencer Financial, and Spencer International."
"You've followed my career," Spencer noted smoothly. He dipped his head.
"Oh, House is a long-time fan of Prescription Passion," Cameron assured him.
"Since before you were cheating on Audrey with Nicola. And Tamara. And that floozy, what was her name, Lena."
"Leanna." His dark eyes flashing, Cabot tugged Cameron closer and smiled down at the top of her head. "That's all in the past."
"That's what you told Audrey," House pointed out. "But you were just blowing smoke up her ass so she wouldn't divorce you and take little Stephen the Fourth, along with control over the Spencer fortune and her majority share in Cabrey Cosmetics, with her."
He turned to the annoyingly glowing Cameron, who'd rested her right hand on Spencer's abdomen and nestled her head into his chest. "You know what this guy did to his last wife, right? He's told you he hired Sophia Cazenove as her so-called 'housekeeper' and paid her to drug Audrey and start playing mind-fuck games in the mansion, so she'd think she was going insane and relinquish custody? How he poisoned the only person who knew about the forged DNA results, and then threw his nearest romantic rival out of a plane so Audrey wouldn't leave him?"
He flapped his hand helplessly. "Cameron, what are you doing? This guy's even more poisonous than I am!"
Cameron looked adoringly up into Spencer's face. "I know," she said dreamily. "Isn't it strange, and wonderful, the way life just works out for the best, sometimes? One door closed, which brought me here, and then, Cabot's look-alike cousin Gunther took over his identity back in Elmdale, and poof! another one opened." She grinned, stood on her tiptoes and delivered a kiss to Spencer that accelerated House's heart rate from four feet away.
When Cameron pulled away from the spit-swap, she blinked defiantly back at House.
"I'd been thinking that your attraction to me was about my damage," House told her. "Turns out, it was about yours. Good to know. But now that I'm hallucinating in my hallucination, I really, urgently, need to communicate with Cuddy and Wilson. "
"Lisa Cuddy?" Spencer asked dimly.
"No, Rachel," House snarled sarcastically. "Yes, Dipshit, seeing as this is a medical emergency, I need Doctor Lisa Cuddy."
"She's been here longer than I have," Spencer informed him with a shrug. "She's just been elected sheriff."
TBC.
Part 3
Warning: Crack. Meta.
Summary: I honestly have no explanation for this. But if you've ever wondered, "who were those awful people in season 7, and where did House and Cuddy go?" then here is my gift f to you.
Comments welcome.
"Cameron? How did you get here?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"
"I got here the same way everyone here got here, and today, I'm going treasure hunting."
"Treasure hunting," House repeated dully. So, his physical state had deteriorated to the point where Cuddy, Wilson, Chase, maybe even Foreman, had called in Cameron to help with the diagnosis. This could be very ... very, very bad.
Cameron reached behind her back to tie her bikini top more tightly against her neck, perkify-ing her boobs even more. "Snorkeling in the old pirate miniseries lot. Flint and his crew offered us a ride out to one of the private cays. I've packed a picnic lunch."
"Flint," House said thoughtfully. "Sharp, rock ... What's the name of this boat?" He leaned over the stern as far as he could, blinking into the water splashing against the hull.
"Oh, for heaven's sake." Cameron planted her bare feet on the deck, grabbed House's t-shirt in both hands, and hauled him forcefully back. "It's his name. Try to not read too much into it. "
"And he conducts tours of the ruins." There must have been a secondary collapse, devastating damage... a puncture wound?
"That's just their job here," Cameron said. "In their previous career they were what they called 'extraction specialists.'"
"Surgeons?" House felt his blood pressure drop into his socks. "Tumor," he said very softly. Brain, or spinal column.
"No, you dumbass, it was an ironic way of saying that they're scam artists and thieves. And those ruins are really just a tourist trap -- seriously, one old abandoned monorail station and a few weird alien machines is not exactly Easter Island. House." Cameron put her hands on her hips. "House, listen."
"Did you say 'monorail?'" he asked.
"Yeah, as in 'one track mind,'" Cameron sighed in defeat. "How did I ever stand this?"
"Or, as in mag-lev proulsion systems. Magnets: I need an MRI."
"You need, to get your metaphorically-oriented head out of your ass and listen to me: there is less here than meets the eye. This time it is not a zebra. It's not a zebra disguised as a horse, it's not a zebra disguised as a giraffe or a zebra that looks like a camel or a zebra dressed up as Jabba the Hutt or something else. You're not hallucinating. You really are here and I really am here and this place really is real. This time we're just inside a very ugly horse."
She wrinkled her nose. "Gah. That one was nasty. How do you do this to me?"
"I'll need a signal, a spike in one of the readings, to alert Cuddy and Wilson," House concluded. "Stimulate me."
"I would take that very much amiss."
Cameron addressed the man who had come up behind her and wrapped his arm possessively around her waist. "Cab, Honey, this is House. House, this is my fiancé,"
"Stephen Cabot Spencer?" House finished incredulously, taking in the familiar imperial expression, the impeccable bearing, of the tall, athletic figure standing before him in expensive boat shoes, khakis and a pink polo shirt. "Heir to the Spencer-Worthington fortune, founder, with the late Audrey Whitman-Horne-Sydney-Baxter-Spencer, of Cabrey Cosmetics, owner of Spencer Imports, Spencer Towers, Spencer Financial, and Spencer International."
"You've followed my career," Spencer noted smoothly. He dipped his head.
"Oh, House is a long-time fan of Prescription Passion," Cameron assured him.
"Since before you were cheating on Audrey with Nicola. And Tamara. And that floozy, what was her name, Lena."
"Leanna." His dark eyes flashing, Cabot tugged Cameron closer and smiled down at the top of her head. "That's all in the past."
"That's what you told Audrey," House pointed out. "But you were just blowing smoke up her ass so she wouldn't divorce you and take little Stephen the Fourth, along with control over the Spencer fortune and her majority share in Cabrey Cosmetics, with her."
He turned to the annoyingly glowing Cameron, who'd rested her right hand on Spencer's abdomen and nestled her head into his chest. "You know what this guy did to his last wife, right? He's told you he hired Sophia Cazenove as her so-called 'housekeeper' and paid her to drug Audrey and start playing mind-fuck games in the mansion, so she'd think she was going insane and relinquish custody? How he poisoned the only person who knew about the forged DNA results, and then threw his nearest romantic rival out of a plane so Audrey wouldn't leave him?"
He flapped his hand helplessly. "Cameron, what are you doing? This guy's even more poisonous than I am!"
Cameron looked adoringly up into Spencer's face. "I know," she said dreamily. "Isn't it strange, and wonderful, the way life just works out for the best, sometimes? One door closed, which brought me here, and then, Cabot's look-alike cousin Gunther took over his identity back in Elmdale, and poof! another one opened." She grinned, stood on her tiptoes and delivered a kiss to Spencer that accelerated House's heart rate from four feet away.
When Cameron pulled away from the spit-swap, she blinked defiantly back at House.
"I'd been thinking that your attraction to me was about my damage," House told her. "Turns out, it was about yours. Good to know. But now that I'm hallucinating in my hallucination, I really, urgently, need to communicate with Cuddy and Wilson. "
"Lisa Cuddy?" Spencer asked dimly.
"No, Rachel," House snarled sarcastically. "Yes, Dipshit, seeing as this is a medical emergency, I need Doctor Lisa Cuddy."
"She's been here longer than I have," Spencer informed him with a shrug. "She's just been elected sheriff."
TBC.
Part 3