Disclaimer: Must I say it again? They're not mine. Too bad, because I could do such fun things with them.

Chapter 2

All Forty of Them?

The following Monday, House limped into the reception area of Cuddy's office and stood at the door staring. After only two minutes, she looked up from her computer to be greeting by a pair of baby blues, glinting mischievously. He angled his head indicating that she was to follow him and limped toward the elevator.

"You should be signing into the clinic," Cuddy said as she walked up beside him just as the elevator doors opened.

"Why? I'm not working in the clinic today," House answered.

Cuddy looked at him incredulously, but House refused to turn his head and acknowledge her glances. He stood perfectly still and watched the floor numbers light up on the display. When the elevator reached the diagnostic floor and the doors opened, he limped out without a word. Sighing and rolling her eyes, Cuddy had no choice but to follow.

She caught up to House standing in the hall outside the conference area, an unbearably smug look on his face. Cuddy looked into the conference room briefly and then turned to chew House out about his clinic hours but quickly did a double-take.

The conference room was literally filled with young doctors. There had to be… at least forty of them in there.

"That full enough for you?" House asked innocently.

"What … I … House, what the hell is this?" Cuddy sputtered.

"You said triple the clinic hours until the room was full of doctors I employ. Excellent motivator, by the way. So, I hired the fellowship applicants," House explained.

"All forty of them," Cuddy stated.

"For now," House said, grinning wickedly as he surveyed the fresh, young doctors. "I'm not allowed to interview, but I am allowed to hire and fire. So, I hired them all and I'll fire the ones I don't want." He looked at Cuddy and then back at the conference room again. "Like shooting fish in a barrel."

"House, this is the most asinine …"

"Sorry, no time to chat. I've got employees to deal with," House left Cuddy standing open-mouthed in the hall.

&&&&&

House limped into the conference room after a brief stop in his office. He managed to shoulder his way through the very crowded room, only jabbing three feet with his cane in the process. When he finally reached the coffee pot he sighed heavily. Strike one, he thought to himself. Forty doctors and not a single one of them needed coffee?

"You," House said as he raised his cane and pointed at a random fellow. "Go get the box on my desk."

The young man in question scampered, and House smirked the tiniest bit. His reputation was obviously still well intact. He hadn't even said anything nasty yet and already they were jumping. The doctor House had chosen walked back into the conference room and placed the box on the table.

House limped to the table and reached into the box. He withdrew a stack of orange files and dropped them on the table. Next he took out a stack of blue files and pushed them into the chest of a nearby fellow with a mumbled command to 'pass those out'. Finally, he took out two handfuls of rayon squares and handed them to the next nearest candidate.

"I have no intention of learning your names, since almost all of are going to be fired sometime between today and …" House scrunched up his face in thought, "Tuesday of next week. Each of you will be assigned a number, which you will wear on your chest. On the table here are your fellowship applications. Please peel the sticker from the back of your racing number and affix it to your file so that if I ever become interested in learning your name, I won't have to talk to you."

House noted the turning of heads in confusion, disgust, annoyance and amusement with pleasure. This little exercise alone was guaranteed to piss off at least one person, who would either quit or complain and be fired.

"You are also being handed an orientation packet, with some information that I believe you will find useful during your time here, limited as that may be. Included are some guidelines to make your acclimation here smooth and a few rules you'll be expected to follow."

Forty pairs of eyes began scanning the contents of the orientation packet they'd been handed.

Guidelines:

Dr. House does not care what you think.

Dr. House does not care about your personal life, unless it is somehow embarrassing.

Dr. House does not see patients.

Dr. House does not perform tests.

Dr. House prefers his coffee black, two sugars.

Rules:

1) The Vicodin is mine. Don't touch.

2) Yes, my leg hurts today. Don't ask.

3) I'm the boss, you do as I say. Don't argue.

4) No, I don't care that it's illegal, unethical or immoral. Don't bother.

5) It's never lupus. Ever. Don't suggest it.

6) There is no rule six.

7) I teach, you learn. Don't hurt yourself trying to keep up.

8) I don't follow rules. Don't act surprised.

House smirked. This might actually be fun.

It is fun, isn't it? So tell me! Press the magic purply-blue button of love!