Disclaimer: I own House about as much as I own Bill Gates.
There are references to the Vogler story arc, but nothing you'd call a spoiler.
A/N: This story is for my wonderful reviewers: enots, Gallop Girl, and Luveniar FurElise here; and Aimee, Ali, and Emma elsewhere. Thanks to all of you, and I hope you like this one. (Multiple chapters this time. I hope that's a good sign!)
Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscrib'd
In one self place; for where we are is hell,
And where hell is there must we ever be.
--Christopher Marlowe
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Cameron was well into sorting through House's e-mail, and Chase had a good start on his crossword puzzle when Foreman arrived, wearing the harassed look of someone not used to being late. "Sorry. I got my new couch delivered today, and of course they were half an hour late getting it there."
Chase shrugged. "Well, unsurprisingly, you still managed to beat House here, so you're good."
Foreman hung up his jacket and pulled on his lab coat, turning around just in time to see Cameron holding up a small white box. "Here, have a croissant. I got them on the way in. There's no sign of a case yet, so we might as well all relax while we can."
It was perhaps this last statement that led fate to bring Cuddy into the office, obviously on a mission. She wore a flamingo pink jacket and skirt that made the other doctors blink at the color. "Please tell me House is here," she said, holding up a file. She looked frazzled -- not unusual if House was involved -- but this time she actually looked hopeful at the thought of finding him, which definitely was unusual.
"This early? Not a chance," Foreman said, shaking his head. Croissant in one hand, he picked up the box and offered it to Cuddy, but she waved it off.
"No, thanks. I'll leave this here for you three to start with," she added, putting the thick file folder on the table. "This is your new patient." She spoke almost reverently, and earned herself three odd looks.
"William Oswin," Chase read. "Wait, the second richest man in the world, that William Oswin?"
"The same. He's expected here in less than an hour, and he's requested House specifically."
Foreman looked at her pleadingly. "Please, don't tell House that. He has enough ego as it is."
The three of them were already studying the file, handing papers back and forth. "The man's already had every medical test under the sun," Chase observed. "But they all look, well, normal."
Cameron was nodding in agreement. "Why did he request House? None of these tests show anything actually wrong with him. Except the fact that he's eighty years old, and it doesn't require a world-famous diagnostician to reach that conclusion."
To Foreman's annoyance, House chose that moment to appear, bursting through the conference room door in his usual abrupt fashion. "Ah, you're all talking about me again. I can just feel the love." Then he saw Cuddy, and held up a hand to shield his eyes. "Whoa! But I can't see it, because your outfit has blinded me. Is this your new, subtle way of telling me not to look at your cleavage?"
"House, if you pull this case off, you can stare at my cleavage until Doomsday, for all I care."
"Where's the fun in that, unless it bothers you?" He limped over to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup before throwing himself into one of the chairs. "Just for that, I may refuse to take this wonder case of yours."
Cuddy sighed. "It isn't your usual sort of case, I admit, but this is your big chance."
Cameron offered him a croissant, which he leaned forward to claim. "What, to win fame and fortune? I'm already famous, as Cameron so rightly pointed out."
"The second richest man in the world is on his way here," Cameron explained.
"Bill Gates is coming here?" he asked around a mouthful of pastry, eyebrows raised.
"No, he's the first richest," Chase said.
House shook his head. "Nuh uh. I hear Gates has been slipping and let some other guy pass him up."
"The point is, he's a billionaire trying to buy his way out of getting old." Foreman said.
Cameron nodded. "He's already taking a very expensive course of anti-aging hormone treatments, but apparently that's not enough for him."
House grabbed some papers with his free hand and glared up at Cuddy. "What is this crap? How is this a diagnostics case?"
"Look, we all know that he's just being a hypochondriac and thinks enough money can fix anything. But he has promised – House, are you listening to me? Because this is important."
"Yes, mommy," House sighed, rolling his eyes up at her.
"If we can help him, he has promised to replace the entire hundred million dollars that you lost. The entire hundred million. No strings attached. So can you please just forget the fact that this isn't a diagnostics problem and humor the man? Run a few tests, get him on some palliative treatments – who knows, maybe there really is something minor wrong with him that we can actually fix. So for god's sake, just try and take this seriously."
The three younger doctors tensed and exchanged startled looks as Cuddy laid out the stakes, watching quietly as the battle of wills continued.
"So if I humor this guy long enough to get the money, you'll never be able to throw that whole Vogler incident in my face ever again," House said thoughtfully.
"I realize that's a very big if, but I hope that statement means you're at least willing to try."
"Is he going to want to talk to me?"
"For a hundred million? Yeah, I think you can spare him a few minutes of your valuable time."
There was a tense moment, then House made a strategic withdrawal. "All right. But I wouldn't do this for a penny less than the full one hundred million." He hauled himself up and went over to the whiteboard.
Cuddy's relieved smile froze into a grimace as she heard his next words. "Okay, kids, differential diagnosis on being an old fart with more money than sense."
Foreman grinned, Chase turned a laugh into a cough, and even Cameron had to fight to keep a straight face. "Oh, relax," House said, waving a hand casually at the furious Cuddy. "I'm just getting it out of my system before his majesty arrives."
"Just make sure it is out of your system," she replied through gritted teeth, before turning and marching down the hall.
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Unsurprisingly, Oswin wanted to meet the entire team. So, after a diagnostic session that was really more a chance for House to vent, they were all summoned into the billionaire's room. Two people in business suits lingered in the background, one with a cell phone, the other a laptop, clearly waiting impatiently for this conference to be over so they could get back to the real work.
The expensive hormone treatments might have been worth it, for Oswin looked closer to sixty-five than eighty. His hair was silver, but still thick, and his eyes were alert, even piercing. He greeted them all as Cuddy made the introductions, repeating their names and giving each a firm handshake. Even Foreman had to admit that he was charismatic, though there was also steel behind those grey eyes.
But the steel melted into relief when Cuddy introduced House. "The man himself. I've heard a great deal about you."
Under Cuddy's watchful eye, House shifted his cane awkwardly and returned the handshake. "I could say the same. Pleasure."
"I'm told that if anyone on earth can find out what's killing me, it's you." The steel was back, and even House blinked at the bitterness in his voice.
"We'll do our best, Mr. Oswin," House replied carefully.
The good humor was instantly back. "No, no, please call me William. We're on the same side, you and me."
"Yes, well, we have your medical records, and a very detailed medical history, but Dr. Chase will be asking you a few more questions, if you don't mind, and we'll need to take some blood for some more tests."
"Perhaps Dr. Cameron could do that instead." It did a good job masquerading as a casual remark, but it was clearly no such thing.
House was near enough to Cameron to feel her tense at this suggestion. She was drawing breath to speak, and House himself was an instant away from forever ruining his good first impression when Cuddy spoke up smoothly. "Perhaps Dr. Cameron and Dr. Chase could work together on that."
"I'm sure Dr. Cameron can handle things on her own."
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"I thought you said no strings attached," House said accusingly, almost before the door closed behind them.
"That much money always comes with strings," Foreman put in.
Helplessness made Cuddy angry. "Oh, come on. What do you think he's going to do, try to maul her right here in the hospital? He's eighty, for god's sake!"
Chase kept looking back over his shoulder. "His fifth wife just divorced him for mental cruelty. She's younger than Cameron."
"Cameron can take care of herself," Cuddy shot back, but she didn't sound convinced.
"She shouldn't have to worry about something like this!" House's voice was a barely controlled shout. "The point is that if he starts pushing us around now, he'll never stop. It'll be Vogler all over again." He was quieter now, but no less angry.
"But he hardly even looked at her twice," Cuddy said, worry creeping into her voice. Then her eyes widened. From their position down the hall, she could see the two assistants leaving the room.
Then House was brushing past her at top speed, his blue eyes grim, and Cuddy hurried to catch up. "House, please. Just let me go in there instead."
"You won't be menacing enough."
"My point exactly!"
The male assistant considered getting in House's way, but an icy glare changed his mind. He was bracing himself to barrel through the door when it opened in front of him and Cameron herself stepped out.
"What happened?" House demanded.
"Are you all right?" Cuddy chimed in.
Cameron blinked, then slowly focused on the two people before her. "What do you mean, what happened? Why wouldn't I be all right? I took the patient history like you asked me to." Her voice, too, was slow and hesitant at first, though this quickly passed.
House looked at her, frowning, then glared at the assistants and grabbed the younger doctor's arm, leading her away from the door towards the others. "First of all, I asked Chase to take the history. And I realize there wasn't much left to ask, but I know you didn't finish up that quickly. What happened?"
"Nothing!" Cameron insisted. "He apologized for sounding abrupt. He's just used to talking like that. His daughter is about my age, and he hasn't seen her in years. I reminded him of her, that's all. It's sad, he wasn't allowed to see his daughter at all, and he really misses her."
"Does he miss all the ex-wives who divorced him for mental cruelty, too?"
Cameron sighed and put on her patient face. "He's an old man scared of dying. It's made him rethink his life, and he really regrets some of the things he's done. He's trying to make up for them. That's why he's so anxious to get better." The others were all looking at her oddly, and she crossed her arms self-consciously.
"You know he can't 'get better' from old age," Chase pointed out.
"And you were in there less than a minute. How'd he even manage to say all this crap so fast, never mind get you to believe it? Even you're not usually quite that gullible."
She glared at House, but there was uneasiness hidden in the blue-green eyes. "I was—I don't know, I was in there for a little while. Certainly not less than a minute. Right?" She looked around at the group, her shoulders tensing.
Cuddy stepped in, sensing that this conversation would only make everyone more upset. "All right, run whatever tests you need, fast, and we'll just get him out of here as quickly as possible. We're going for professional, polite efficiency. And no one talks to him alone. At least two at a time."
"What exactly do you think that guy's doing in there?" Foreman asked in disbelief.
"I don't know, and I don't think I care to know. I just want him out of my hospital before he does turn into another Vogler."
"Or worse," House said thoughtfully as Cuddy turned and walked briskly back to her office.
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"So you're all right with going back in there with me?"
Cameron rolled her eyes. "For the tenth time, Chase, yes, it's fine. He was perfectly nice to me, as far as I remember. I just wish I could remember more."
Chase shrugged helplessly. "It still doesn't make any sense."
"Let's just focus on what Cuddy said. We'll just get him out of here as quickly as possible."
She hid her faint hesitation before stepping into the room with her best professional demeanor. Chase paused just before entering, carefully comparing his watch with the time on the hospital clock. The gesture made him feel both relieved and foolish.
"We have some of your test results back, Mr. Oswin," Cameron began. She held the file up like a shield, though she could never have explained why she was nervous. Forcing herself to meet his eyes, she saw only ordinary grey eyes, with the usual expectant look patients always had upon hearing the magical phrase 'test results'.
"There are signs of incipient diabetes, most likely Type II, which isn't uncommon in people your age. We'd like to start you on an insulin regimen to regulate your metabolism, but after a few days, you'll probably be able to control it with diet instead."
Oswin shook his head impatiently. "But that's not killing me."
Cameron was taken aback by the flat, almost disappointed tone. "Uh, no. Properly treated, even much more severe cases—"
"Then there's something else wrong that you haven't found yet. I'd like to speak to Dr. House."
Chase had busied himself with noting the patient's vitals, but now turned to look at Oswin dubiously, setting down his clipboard. "Well, we'll let him know. There will be more test results finished soon, so he may want to talk to you then."
"As soon as possible," was the clipped response.
Back in the hall, both doctors took a deep breath, as though there hadn't been enough air in the room. "House is going to love this," Cameron sighed.
"Damn, I forgot my clipboard," Chase suddenly realized. "Just a second." He darted back into the room before Cameron could protest. She hesitated just outside the door, trying to find a crack in the blinds that she could peer through. Oswin had insisted on keeping them closed at all times, which had only made Cuddy repeat her earlier order more forcefully.
A moment later, just as Cameron was about to barge in, Chase was back in the hall, and she smiled in relief. Then she got a good look at his face.
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A/N: Please review, and make me smile. To be continued!