Author's Note:
This fic is set in the weeks after Private Lives. It has the standard pairings as they exist in the series at that point, meaning Cuddy/Lucas, Cameron separated from Chase. Some of the plot might not be comprehensible unless you've watched Private Lives.
Warning: This will not end as Huddy, though the Cuddy/Lucas relationship will receive a bit of a setback.
Further Warning: The fic is an exercise in plot conversion, i.e. I've tried to adapt A Midsummer Night's Dream to fit into House MD. It's possible to read and understand the story without knowing A Midsummer Night's Dream, but it does mean that I'm limited somewhat by the plot of the play. For instance, House does not turn up until Chapter 3.
Last Warning: A Midsummer Night's Dream is a light comedy – this fic started off the same, but in the process of writing it turned rather sombre. I guess the fact is that House MD simply isn't comedy – it's mostly personal tragedy, really, so that mood has coloured this fic.
Many thanks to my beta Brighid45 for her unremitting efforts and endless patience. For all who think that Season 6 might be dealing with House's recovery from addiction rather too lightly: check out her Treatment series for competent insights into therapy and the process of recovery.
Act 1, Scene 1
Theseus: Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.
Hermia: So is Lysander.
Theseus: In himself he is.
But in this, lacking your father's voice,
The other must be held the worthier.
[A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 1 Scene 1]
8 p.m.
Snowflakes drifted past the window, cascading gently onto the windowsill, flurrying up again whenever a gust of wind shook them, sparkling in the warm glow from the lights in the room. The surrounding roofs were already covered by a light powdering, as were the lawns of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, but the roads and sidewalks, warmer by a few degrees, were still clear. That would probably change in the course of the night, inundating the ER with careless drivers, but for the present the scene was idyllic, a picture-book winter evening that carried hints of crackling firewood, hot punch and baked apples.
Inside, the first board meeting of the year was drawing to a close. Casting a tired eye over the agenda, Wilson registered that all controversial issues had been dealt with. It shouldn't take Cuddy long to dispose of the remaining topics. He glanced over to where she was sitting, legs folded demurely under her chair, and smiled inwardly. Cuddy was petite and feminine, but when she advocated and defended her proposals, she blew away resistance like a hurricane. She was now giving the board a very concise summary of the planned agenda for tomorrow – the visit of a political heavy-weight to the hospital – true to her axiom: The less information given, the fewer stupid questions were asked. Wilson glanced over the programme.
'8 a.m.: Dr Cuddy and senior staff greet Senator Woodward in the lobby.'
8 a.m.? There was no way he'd be able to get House to be in hospital by 8 a.m. Then again, 'senior staff' in this case probably meant 'senior staff excepting Gregory House MD'. Perhaps Cuddy had scheduled the visit to start at 8 am to ensure that House would be safely out of the way. An inspection of the Oncology Department was scheduled for 11 am, there was a buffet lunch (House would be bound to turn up for that), a podium discussion on current health issues in the afternoon (bla-bla-bla) and an end to the madness roughly at 5 pm.
He turned the programme over, skimming over Senator Woodward's CV that Cuddy had kindly printed on the back. Again, this was Cuddy's way of ensuring that the visit would not be marred by questions guaranteed to unmask her staff's ignorance of current politics, for Senator Woodward was a rising star on the political horizon, a leading health expert for her political party and, if rumours were true, an aspirant for the post of president in the next elections. Ah, here was the answer to the question that had been niggling Wilson ever since the visit had been announced: why would the woman grace a small hospital in another state with her presence? It seemed that Senator Woodward, born in 1969, had been an undergraduate at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor before joining law school in Harvard.
"Dr Cuddy, what additional security measures have you projected for the Senator's visit?" another board member suddenly interjected. "If she is a potential presidential candidate we need to ensure her personal safety."
"Senator Woodward has her own security officers who will accompany her to the hospital, of course. Princeton police will cordon off the surrounding streets during her visit and regulate incoming traffic. Within the hospital we have our own security staff, supplemented by professional help from outside."
"And that will cost us ...?"
"Nothing at all. I'm calling in a personal favour," Cuddy returned with a tight smile.
A personal favour? Wilson figured that could only mean one person.
"I think we have covered everything pertaining to Senator Woodward's visit, so I'd like to move on to our final topic: I'm proud to be able to announce that our Department of Diagnostic Medicine has been invited to hold a series of lectures and seminars for the graduate neuroscience training programme at Johns Hopkins University. We received this offer because the department published a paper on 'Non-invasive Diagnostic Methods in Neurology' in the Journal of Medicine that caused quite a furore in the profession, not to mention a lot of good publicity for PPTH. I don't want to hide from you that accepting the offer from Johns Hopkins implies an investment on our part. Their recompense is more of a salutary nature while the doctors who hold the course will need time off from work not only for the actual teaching, but also for preparations, travel, etc. Nevertheless, as a teaching hospital this is too good an opportunity for us to miss. I have asked Dr Hadley from the Department of Diagnostic Medicine to give you an overview of the course the department intends to offer. If you approve of the concept then I will ask you to give two doctors from the department paid leave for the time they need to prepare and hold the course."
She got up and went to the door of the board room. "Dr Hadley?"
Thirteen entered the boardroom looking slightly uncertain and holding a sheaf of papers in her hand.
"May I introduce Dr Remy Hadley, one of Dr House's fellows? Dr Hadley, will you please give the board a short summary of the paper your department published and explain the concept of the course that you will hold at Johns Hopkins this spring?"
Wilson, being the confidant of choice for House's fellows, especially when House refused to fulfil such irksome duties as proofreading papers that bore the name of his department, had read the paper long before it was published. Hence Thirteen's outline of the neurology paper, tentative at first, but slowly gaining in confidence, held no unfamiliar elements for him. It was a clever move on Cuddy's part to let Thirteen represent the Department before the board; House was out of the question if Cuddy wanted the board's approval, Foreman frequently came over as arrogant as House – one would think he'd have the sense to acquire House's more endearing qualities, but no, he imitated his worst ones. Taub wasn't anywhere near as easy on the eyes as Thirteen, and Chase ... Chase was best kept out of the public eye altogether. Ever since Cameron had left he'd reminded Wilson unpleasantly of House after Stacy's first departure.
Cuddy, Wilson noted out of the corner of his eye, had straightened. He followed her line of vision to Thirteen, not to her face as one would expect, but to her hands. They were shaking. Nervousness in someone as self-confident as Thirteen was rather endearing. One would think that a few years of dealing with House's opprobrious comments and exaggerated demands would have inured her to stress, but there she was, trembling like an aspen leaf.
"The course will be held en block over a period of four weeks beginning on April 10. It will comprise a series of ten lectures, six seminars, diverse workshops and an examination set and graded by us. It is aimed at post-graduate students specializing in neurology. Dr Foreman and I will take turns holding the lectures, we will both chair workshops, and Dr Foreman will hold the seminars."
Cuddy stirred, looking down at her notes. "That isn't the information I got. It was my understanding that Dr Chase will accompany you, holding three lectures and chairing half the workshops."
"What?" Thirteen stared. "I mean ... I'm sorry, that can't be."
"It definitely is." Cuddy waved a form at Thirteen.
Thirteen took the form from Cuddy and studied it, forehead furrowed. When she had finished she said, "There must be some mistake ..."
"I'm sure we don't need to discuss that here and now. The question is not 'Who is going to Johns Hopkins and holding which lecture', but 'Does the board approve of this excursion on our part into academia?'" Cuddy said smoothly, giving Thirteen a quelling look.
She got the board's vote in record time, closing the meeting with a general invitation to the podium discussion the next day. The other board members filed out, but Thirteen lingered. Wilson paused, his curiosity more powerful than his ingrained sense of politeness.
"Dr Cuddy, could I speak to you for a moment?" Thirteen opened.
Cuddy didn't pause as she stacked her notes into a neat pile. "If it's about who is to be delegated to Johns Hopkins there's nothing to discuss. Dr House has decided that Dr Chase is to go."
"Did he say why?"
Cuddy gathered the papers into her arms and drew herself upright to face Thirteen. "He doesn't have to say why. It's his department and therefore his call. But you read the reason on the form: he can't forgo Dr Foreman's expertise, not when two members of his team are to be absent for a considerable period of time. Dr Chase as a surgeon will not be missed quite as much as a neurologist."
"But that's absolutely unfair! Foreman wrote most of that paper – I just helped a bit and Chase did nothing at all - and Foreman has prepared the entire concept for the course. This is Foreman's baby!"
"Dr Hadley, I'm not refereeing a high school quiz competition; I'm trying to run a hospital. I don't subscribe to 'fair', I subscribe to 'practicable'. I will not get involved in your feuds in order to satisfy your notions of justice." She turned on her heel once more at the door. "Dr House is your boss, even if he allows you to treat him with a certain degree of informality. Need I remind you what happened to Dr Cole when he fraternized with the enemy?"
Thirteen stormed into the conference room. "Where's House?"
Neither Foreman nor Chase professed as much interest as Thirteen's dramatic entrance warranted. Foreman looked up from the paperwork of their last case with a mild quirk of his eyebrows, whereas Chase remained tipped back in his chair with his eyes closed. Thirteen's eyes snapped from one to the other in irritation. It would be nice if Foreman dropped his professional detachment for long enough to show the anxiety that she knew he felt for his pet project. Chase admittedly was a hopeless case. He'd never professed the slightest interest for the paper or the course, nor had he shown signs of more than vegetative life today. Input: aspirin and coffee; movement: nil; Contribution to differentials: monosyllabic. The only wonder was that House hadn't seemed to notice.
"Didn't the board approve?" Foreman inquired.
"They did. But House screwed us. He's put Chase down as one of the lecturers instead of you!"
Foreman's features stilled while Chase's bloodshot eyes snapped open. He slowly righted his chair from its tipped-back position and placed the coffee mug he was nursing back on the table, letting out a long-drawn whistle.
"Did you know about this?" Thirteen asked, turning on him.
"No. Didn't ask for it either, if that's what you're getting at. But I can't say I'm surprised. You guys seriously pissed him off by getting in contact with Johns Hopkins without his permission. What did you expect? You can be happy he's letting you go through with it at all."
"He didn't want us working on the project in our work time, so we did it after work," Thirteen pointed out. "Nor is he letting us go through with it – he's put you in the boat and kicked Foreman out, although you haven't as much as drawn a doodle for it."
"I drank a lot of supportive beers."
"What did Cuddy say?" Foreman interrupted their bickering.
"She knows he's messing with us, but she won't interfere." Thirteen slapped her papers and files on the table in frustration. "What are we going to do?"
"Chase could tell House that he doesn't want in."
"Are you kidding? Why should I let this pass me by?" Chase guffawed.
"Perhaps a basic sense of decency won't let you take advantage of your colleagues. You know how much work Foreman put into this," Thirteen suggested. "Besides, you aren't qualified to hold lectures on neurology."
The last statement was a mistake. Chase leaned back folding his arms across his chest.
"Foreman would be the first person to take advantage of the situation if our roles were reversed. Why should I get into a confrontation with House over something you folks messed up? Furthermore, if I recall your endless discussions correctly – which took place during working hours, even if the project write-up didn't – the course isn't on neurology but on diagnostic methods in neurology. I've been around here longer than either of you and ... I can handle it." He leaned forward to examine the papers that Thirteen had slammed down onto the table, picking up the proposal that the board had approved of. "Looks like Thirteen will be doing most of the teaching anyway, so I get to chill." He shrugged. "Suits me just fine."
Foreman rose. He tossed the case file he'd been completing to Chase, saying, "If you can handle the course, you can handle the paperwork from now on." He turned to Thirteen. "Come along. It's well past eight, we don't have a case, so let's go."
Thirteen waited until the elevator doors closed on her and Foreman before picking up the topic again. "Aren't you going to do anything? Are you going to let House get away with this?"
"Not much I can do. House resents having me there as Cuddy's watchdog, so he's taking it out on me. Cuddy, on the other hand, won't support me against House. She uses me in their game of checks and balances, but she'll never give me real power."
"You're seriously not going to do anything? You'll let them jerk you around like ... like a marionette?" Thirteen's incredulity was palpable.
"I'll hand in my resignation tomorrow," Foreman remarked with the air of someone making a polite comment about the weather.
Thirteen raised her eyebrows, looking pointedly away from him. He might want to do the 'I am not affected emotionally by any of this' act, but she wasn't going play Greek chorus for him.
"I was offered a job as assistant professor at UW Medicine some time ago. It wasn't a bad offer, but I wasn't interested at the time."
"So, do you want to do it now or do you just want to put House's nose out of joint?"
"I could get tenure in a few years."
"Leaving me to cope with Chase ... and House." Thirteen could feel her heart sinking.
Foreman hesitated. "You could come along. I'm allowed to nominate two teaching assistants."
"Seattle. That's ... a big decision."
"Think about it," Foreman said carelessly. "I'm handing in my resignation tomorrow."
Thirteen looked thoughtful. It would be easier if Foreman gave more clues regarding his feelings or his motivation in offering her the post. "Do you think I could teach?"
"I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't think so: I'm not running a soup kitchen distributing charity meals. I'll have to establish my position there if I'm to get tenure. Take it or leave it."
He strode out of the elevator without looking back at her. She stood immobile for a moment before rushing after him.
"I'll take it."
"Good." He seemed genuinely pleased.
Thirteen suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. "Isn't that Cameron? I thought she works in some hospital in New York."
It was indeed Dr Cameron. She came through the entrance door pulling her gloves off and stuffing them into her coat pockets. When she saw Foreman and Thirteen she came up to them, giving each a quick hug and a wan smile.
"Hey, how're you doing?" Foreman asked.
"Good," she answered, as though that word negated weight loss, pale cheeks and the dark rings under her eyes. "Is Robert still upstairs? He wasn't at ho ... at his place."
"Yes," Thirteen answered. Unable to stop herself she added in a rush, "You don't look good!"
Cameron took a deep breath. "Robert didn't mention that he has filed for a divorce?"
"No," Foreman frowned. "That explains a lot."
"You don't want a divorce?" Thirteen asked, her confusion obvious. She had assumed that Cameron was the one who had opted out of the marriage, since Cameron had been the one to leave.
"No. I wanted space. Some time for both of us to reconsider our priorities. I didn't think that Robert as a Catholic would take marriage so lightly ..."
Foreman's face was deadpan – he'd have preferred not knowing quite so much – but Thirteen ran through an entire gamut of emotions, from puzzlement through incredulity, dismay, pity, a tinge of disgust, before settling on something akin to Foreman's blandness. Was Cameron really so naive as to believe that she could walk out of a relationship, expecting Chase to hang around until she was ready to pick it up again?
Cameron opted for a change of topic. "So how's work?"
Foreman and Thirteen looked at each other.
"Bad topic?" Cameron surmised.
After a short pause Thirteen volunteered, "We're quitting."
"Both of you? Why?"
"House is jerking us around. We're going for teaching posts at UW Medicine," Foreman explained.
"How did House react?"
Thirteen and Foreman looked at each other again. Trust Cameron to be more bothered about House than at the major upheavals facing her ex-colleagues. "He doesn't know yet. We're handing in our resignations tomorrow."
"Well ...," Cameron was nonplussed, "good luck, I suppose."
"Thanks," Thirteen smiled awkwardly. "You too."
Lysander: Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
Tomorrow night, when Phoebe doth behold
Her silvery visage, in the watery glass,
Decking with liquid pearl, the bladed grass
A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal
Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal.
[A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 1 Scene 1]