A/N: Hello everybody. Don't worry, I have plenty of Maximum Ride stuff still on my computer. I'm just such a lazy ass I haven't uploaded it...apologies.

Anyway, this is my first House fic, kind of a parody, so please enjoy. Watch out for Cameron-bashing, Foreman-bashing, Chase-bashing, and Cuddy-bashing. Whoa, I may as well put Everyone-bashing. But hopefully it's humourous bashing, so not offensive to anyone. If so...I'm sorry, I can't imagine anyone finding this offensive -grins-

Anway...on with the disclaimer.

Disclaimer: Sorry Fox, David Shore, and everyone else who owns House, I didn't mean to plagiarize, but I'm only borrowing, not intending to or recieving any money (or anything, really) whatsoever. I totally understand that I in no way own the characters or original storylines. Apart from on DVD. But I do own Emma, so leave her be. Hands off.

The Tail Of Emma

PG/Kids+ - Teen

House limped heavily through the hospital doors. He'd had too much to drink last night and fallen against his dresser, so he had both a bad hangover and a worse-than-usual ache in his leg. The cane seemed to be the only thing holding him up.

He passed all the doctors, nurses and patients milling around without even a first glance, his stony exterior helping him along in this feat. Well, nearly all the doctors.

"House! What happened to you?" His loyal disturber inquired.

House threw a wry glance over his shoulder. Wilson didn't really know this, but he had loads of time for him. Even when his mood was darker than night. As it seemed to be today, House inwardly moped.

"A certain Mr. Jack Daniels did."

"Ah. That explains the irritable mood, the all around scruffiness, not to mention the snarking. Hang on, that seems familiar...happens every day...are you always hungover?"

House rolled his eyes. "Of course I am, Wilson. Come to work still sloshing in my whiskey. I'm obviously not fit to treat patients, so I'll be-"

He was drowned out by the, yes, wailing of a distraught dog, clearly out of its mind in terror. It had run right through someone's legs as they opened the big front doors. It ran around the nurse's station, crying miserably.

"My god! Will someone please shut that annoying demon of underworlds up? It interrupted my excuse!" House demanded loudly.

As to be expected, his request went unheeded, as nobody was listening. To be fair, Cameron was in the room and would have immediately come to his aid if she could have heard him over the panicked howls and whines of the border collie-ish dog.

House moaned quietly. His head was splitting; at least, it felt like that was happening. He'd come to work with a quick refusal ready for any kind of real work; cases, clinic, paperwork. He'd planned to darken his office and sleep off the awful pounding.

And yet he here was, subject to this hellish devildog that sang brain-exploding music.

Wilson, the highly smart and wily creature he was, took one look at the distressed dog and removed himself from its vicinity. If only I could do that, House thought dejectedly.

But he was boxed in. Every useless patient or nurse wanted a look, and all the doctors, minus Wilson and House, of course, had decided as one entity that as the highest ranking persons of authority currently available (The security guards, as was common, were nowhere to be found when the action heated up) that it fell to them to calm the dog down and take it away from the hospital.

House bowed his head, willing the damn dog to shut its trap and not let the door hit it on the way out. He was mistaken by a passerby for someone who was planning, and therefore competent to resume control over the situation.

He was dragged away, the dragger resolutely ignoring the draggee's whines and whimpers. Because, as much as House hated to admit it, his leg was killing him, and the pulling done by the idiot kept unbalancing him. And that put too much weight on his leg, forcibly ripping murmurs of pain from him. Thankfully, these went unnoticed by the group.

Finally, House was deposited on the outer edge of the large ring formed by the moronic doctors. Someone kicked him and his poorly leg gave out. House winced as he was brought to one knee.

House snapped up viciously to growl at the poor sap, who was clearly demonstrating that it was an accident by cowering against his friend. The friend appeared equally terrified.

A suspicious silence filled the room. The dog had stopped crying. House decided the Cuddynator must have shown her face at the edge of the room and the dog saw her and promptly shut up. Probably pissed itself, thought House amusedly.

But, alas, no Cuddy was to be found. She was currently having a panic attack in her personal bathroom because her baby was in danger of the evil flesh-eating germs the filthy dog had brought in. She was not fit to come downstairs just yet.

House glanced around uncertainly. The dog just...shut up? He felt a flicker of warm wet on his hand. The dog stared happily up at him, breathing dogbreath in his face. House's eyes watered.

He coughed. "Somebody, find a tube of toothpaste and squirt it into," House looked under the dog's back leg, "her mouth. In the meantime, find me someone who bottles air, and turn this infernal stench into a bomb. We'll win every war."

A ripple of amusement flirted around the group. It was less at the admittedly funny quip, but at the fact that their collective arch-nemesis suffered at the paws of a puppy dog.

The dog in question was completely settled now, gazing lovingly up at House.

"God, I shall have to call you 'Cameron'," he said grumpily. The real Cameron brightened as he spoke, brightened considerably when he said her name, and only deflated slightly when she realised what he was implying. But it was okay; two for one.

The she-dog gave him a meaningful stare. House rolled his eyes for the second time today.

"All right. Um...Emma."

The dog yipped in excitement, and everyone in the room froze as they tried to work out what happened. House had- had named a dog? That he was yelling at before? And, this is the kicker, he said 'um' in a non-sarcastic manner?

House rolled his eyes again. What an utterly predictable crowd.

"Okay, everybody, the non-show you all felt you had to see is over, if it even began. Now, where are my minions? I need them here. Stat, in Doctor Speak, for all you weirdos."

Foreman and Chase reluctantly drew up beside House, who was still subject to the foul dogbreath.

"My god..." House muttered disbelievingly, blinking his eyes. Chase bit down on a chuckle so House didn't fire him, and Foreman looked emotionless. But for all our sanity we'll pretend that inside he was laughing.

Cameron, who had been unable to rush to her crush- boss's aid because of all the people wandering off (You're now wondering how wandering can block someone, but when you multiply wandering by fifty, you end up with a formidable force) decided to punch a few out to make room for herself. Just as she was going to do it, she remembered her moral and ethnic duties and forwent, to her great disappointment. These people had laughed at House.

Said Crush-Boss managed to get to his feet, and strode painfully off to his office, the dog following faithfully behind. In the nature of these sorts of things, the dog immediately knew not to play with the cane, or walk on the wrong side of House. It is unknown how she understood this.

"House? House? Do you need a hand?" Cameron asked in a mother-hen manner, with Emma the dog adopting a very lovesick look every time Cameron said 'House'.

House imagined Cameron with feathers sprouting out her arms and hair and clucking. A ghost of a smile hung off his features and the ducklings all exchanged glances. Well, the boys did. Cameron was preoccupied with burning the image into her brain, for immediate call-upon when House was a bastard. She was aware that she may need to use her new picture regularly.

"Well?"Cameron asked worriedly. She loved being worried over House, despite the fact that he loathed it. She liked to think it would grow on him one day.

"I'm fine. Just get a- I don't know what's it's called. A breath-freshener for dogs."

Cameron flounced off, eager to fulfil House's request. Actually, there were a few requests of House that she would be all too happy to fulfil. But these are dirty and unfit for this work of fiction.

Chase and Foreman shook their head at Cameron. When they looked up they saw House had been shaking his head, too. House looked at Chase. "I don't understand how you can live with her."

"Well...the sex is great."

House gave him a grossed-out look. "It's, like, the irreligious form of blasphemy to mate with another species."

Chase grinned and winked. "Oh, I know for sure she's a female human."

House gave him the grossed-out look again. "For future reference, any conversation involving your sex-life is instantly binned as 'Too Much Information'. Just so we're clear on that."

By now they'd arrived at House's office, and he and Emma went straight in. Emma, obviously unfearing of painful death, jumped up on the ottoman and in the blink of an eye it was completely covered in dog hair.

Surprisingly, House ignored the mess and carefully lowered himself into his chair, popping a couple of Vicodin as he did so. Cameron raced in as Chase and Foreman stared dumbly at the still-alive dog. Cameron glanced at the dog as well, and her eyes filled with jealousy. House had never let her sit on his ottoman.

"Ah. Cameron. What do you have-" House cut himself off. Emma had screwed up her face in extreme caring. House gave her a strange look, and glanced at the ducklings.

"Cameron," he tested. Emma made the caring face again. "Cameron." The caring face. House chuckled. "Boy, you aren't slow. Five minutes in her presence and you have her whole personality down pat."

Cameron glared at the dog. Five minutes in House's presence and he loved her. Cameron had spent four years longer trying to woo him. To no effect. A curious look then came over House's face. Cameron tried to burn this one, too. She should really bring in a camera and take proper photos, she thought.

"Foreman." Emma adopted a full-on bored look. House chuckled again. "Foreman," he said, still chuckling. "Foreman."

Foreman eased up on his blank facedness and glared at House. "Okay, House, we get it. It's hilarious." Emma got the lovesick look again as Foreman said 'House'.

House shot him a grin. "You bet your ass it's hilarious." Foreman, in a momentary lapse of emotionless, rolled his eyes.

"Okay," said House. "Unlucky last. Chase." Emma went 'Bleah' and stuck her tongue, as if she'd tasted something awful.

House burst out laughing, choking a 'Chase' out every so often, fuelling his mirth. The ducklings had that dumb look again and stared at House. Never, in the four years they'd worked with him, had they ever seen him laugh properly.

Wilson, oblivious to what was happening, poked his head in.

"Cameron, Chase, Foreman. Could you-" He stopped uncertainly, as House roared with laughter. Emma had the caring face on for a second, went 'Bleah' and stuck out her tongue, and looked bored, in that order.

"Uh, I'm sorry, did I miss something...?"

House finally regained control. "That dog, she is amazing. I don't know how she does this, but look."

"Cameron." Wilson chuckled slightly at the caring look, instantly stopping as Cameron sent him a withering glare.

"Foreman." The spot-on Foreman-face caused Wilson to snort. House gave him a funny look, but moved on.

House smiled in anticipation of the next name. "Chase."

"Bleah."

Wilson cracked up, along with House, who had tried to valiantly to swallow his laughter up to this point. All three team members glared at the two.

"Hang- hang on, I wanna try this," House said, struggling to kill his laughter. As it was, Wilson was doing better, already at the stage where one only sporadically broke down in giggles.

Finally, House felt together enough to attempt what he had planned.

"Wilson." Emma had such a Wilson look on her little dog face. It was – a puppy-dog look. House laughed, more at the look on Wilson's face than Emma. It mirrored hers. This time the ducklings felt it safe enough to grin and chuckle at Wilson, too. He had, after all, laughed at them.

"Okay, okay, I need to try this on Cud- the Big Boobs and Ass Boss." House didn't want to try it without Cuddy being present as well. The looks on each person's face were almost funnier than the actual face the dog made.

Luckily, Cuddy had pulled herself together and was on the hunt for House. She knew for a fact he had the devildog in his possession, and this building of glass being a hospital, dogs weren't allowed.

She stalked into House's office, seeing his team and Wilson there as well. Good, she thought, if they hadn't gotten House to get rid of it yet, they deserved to be punished, too.

"House! Why is the dog still in the hospital? Tell me, or it's two weeks of extra clinic duty!"

House shot a look to the other people. "Look! It's...Cuddy."

The dog waggled her eyebrows appreciatively. House burst into laughter again, Wilson and Chase joining in. Foreman, being emotionless as he was, kept a straight face, and Cameron was busy filming House laughing on her camera phone.

Cuddy just stared. Several things were wrong with this current picture, yet she couldn't pin it down on anything. And, for once, it wasn't House's fault. She was lost.

"Cuddy, watch this! House, Wilson, Cameron, Foreman, and...Chase."

The dog's expressions went from lovesick to puppy-dog, to caring and boredness, and finally...bleah.

Cuddy couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, too.

The janitor who put his pants on backwards passed House's office, seeing some of the most unlikely people to laugh, well, laughing. And it was proper laughing, too. But not all of them were incapacitated, mind you. One had the most bored look on his face, and one had all her attention diverted onto one- House. And...there was a black and white dog, changing her facial expressions continuously.

He shook his head. Must have sniffed up too much cleaning chemical fumes.

Heh, heh, did you like it? Personally, I did, but I like to make fun of characters so...basically I'm a bit weird. And I'm also biased ;)

R&R?