Brace yourselves; I am hitting out with another House and Cuddy on tour fic. I apologize for the lack of imagination but I honestly couldn't think of a believable excuse to get them out the country together so hurrah for the conference (yes, that old chestnut). Also, before I get any complaints about 'out of character-ness' I am just 'tweaking' slightly to suit my purposes of getting them to the desired location – which I think I can get away with in the world of fanfics. Anyways – here are the first few chapters and if it looks like it has legs then let me know, chapter 3 will see our pair in Scotland's real capital – who needs a soddin castle anyway?!
Enjoy, Ms.F. x
1: First class tramp
Had it not been for the strict professionalism and impressive manipulation skills of his travel companion, the chances of Greg House getting through customs at an international airport were slim to none. Thankfully, Lisa Cuddy was on hand to tactfully explain why he was allowed to travel with such volumes of narcotics and that he was in fact a highly respected doctor, despite looking like he hadn't shaved in 3 days and his hair hadn't been shown a comb in quite some time.
It had taken them 45minutes to get through customs at Heathrow and they were getting the same performance at Edinburgh. "Anything to declare?" Snapped the customs officer – obviously feeling quite full of it with an armed policeman behind him. After waving through dozens of people sighing "no" he almost missed it when Cuddy gave a strained "yes". "Ok then, round this side then" he gestured to the opposite end of the long table where someone was waiting to go through their bags, again. Cuddy was growing weary of this performance, she had gone through the same routine when they left home, arriving at Heathrow and leaving Heathrow, now she was finally in Edinburgh and knew this wouldn't be the last time she would have to explain the opiates on this trip. House on the other hand was content for someone who hates flying; of course the airport gives him plenty of time to indulge in one of his favourite hobbies – people watching. He can see through the glass wall the people who have made it through the labyrinth of corridors, managed to find their luggage, wrestled with a trolley and will probably now battle it out for a taxi to get them out of here, unless of course you are one of the unfortunate ones who is greeted by someone who will probably have the great desire to discuss what the weather has been like while they were away.
"House, are you coming or will I just leave you here?" Cuddy was vaguely aware she sounded like an irritated mother in a supermarket when she spoke to him sometimes but she had gotten so used to it she would more likely be surprised if he made any trip easy.
The usual crush at the luggage carousel, a shuffle through the busy terminal and a short queue later they were heading into the city centre in a cab. "Well, we can manage a quick freshen up at the hotel then we are meeting some of the organizers for drinks before tomorrow's lectures" Cuddy decided to give House the itinerary – he might not follow it but at least he can't say he wasn't warned.
"Hmm, maybe you should just go to that and I'll come along tomorrow" House decided that the only hope of getting out of this bore-fest was to maybe be nice to Cuddy – even if he was just faking it for his own purposes.
"You're wasting your time House – we went through this before we left Princeton,2 days in London, 4 days in Edinburgh buys you a month off clinic, and you aren't getting out of it now so don't make this more stressful for the both of us" House just rolled his eyes in response, it was day 3 with Cuddy and he was starting to wish he had maybe come down with a dose of small pox, anything that would have gotten him out of this trip.
He hated medical conferences where the only research was into profit-making 'wonder drugs' none of which were novel and none of which he was interested in hearing all about the years of development of. Even on this side of the Atlantic, Greg House was still a name, he was expected to show face and discuss weird and wonderful cases with his fellow diagnosticians, however most of the time he would probably rather be anywhere else. Those morons can barely think in the box never mind outside it which meant any diagnosis was going to be textbook at best. Still, halfway through this week of torture then 4 weeks of sweet sweet freedom. Cuddy was glad to finally drop her hard-shelled, compact suitcase onto the bed and only wished it was her own. Hotel living was fine for when you only intent of lying on the beach all day and dancing all night but when you are trying to keep your professional look with limited resources it can test your patience. The hairdryer was closer to a small breeze and would take hours to do her thick curls justice, and frankly the tea and coffee making facilities left a lot to be desired – given the choice she would rather a nice glass of red wine. The worst part was, she was only half way into this, and even though for some reason House had been restraining himself in the pain-in-the-ass department, she could see the telltale signs that he was about to break.