Disclaimer: House isn't ours. But considering that they stole the alternate motive kiss thing from "Playing Games" as well as other little fanfic tidbits we should have at least honorary ownership. To Kit (Christopher) Marlowe and William Shakespeare: our sincerest apologies. Excerpts from the medical text taken from "Anatomy Coloring Workbook" by I. Edward Alcamo, Ph.D. Hey, keep those chuckles to yourself, it's college lit published by The Princeton Review. It may sound cheesy but it works.

Chapter 3: "And Margaret of Anjou Enters and Cackles"

Price was refilling her candy jar. As the DumDums ™ poured from the value-sized bag, she surveyed the room. Her TA, Annie Lowlin, was on the phone ordering some new play scripts for the class. Other students, some who had already performed for class, some who hadn't, were all busy, the latter practicing and the former offering advice. All except one. Snagging a strawberry DumDum from the now-full glass jar, she meandered over pretending to watch the boy practicing a selection from "Richard III" a few feet away from Gregory House. While listening to the poor boy fumble with the iambic pentameter, she watched her problem-student from the corner of her eye. Since that first day, he'd not brought any toys to class. Instead, he'd bought a series of books which he'd read every class period, studiously ignoring teacher and classmates alike. While he continued to not be disruptive, she couldn't punish him, (nor was she inclined to,) but if he did not participate soon, she was going to have to fail him. As she pondered the dilemma of failing a student who, according to other teachers, was a straight-A student, all hell broke loose.

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Greg was finding it hard to concentrate. His fingers gripped the edge of the medical book he'd snitched from his mom that morning so tightly the pages were wrinkling. This kid was going to be the death of him.

Two arteries result from the division of the common iliac artery: the internal iliac artery (fig C1) and the external iliac artery (fig C2). The internal iliac artery is seen briefly in the plate…

"Our bruised arms hung up for monuments," the kid stammered out. "Our stern alarms changed to merry meetings."

His teeth ground together. Wrong, wrong, WRONG! Couldn't the kid hear his mistakes? Bruis-ed…not bruised. Alarums…not alarms. Greg pushed the mental image of Shakespeare twitching in his grave out of his head and returned to his book.

…emerges the deep femoral artery (fig E2). This artery carries blood to the deep muscles of the thigh and some regions of the skin. Emerging from the deep…

"He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber to the lask…laskivicious pleasing of a lute!"

'Jeez, kid, cut out that damned cheerful voice!' Greg thought, not looking up from the pages though directing his thought directly at the hapless boy. 'The guy's a conniving bastard plotting to kill off half his family to gain a throne. You sound like you're telling a children's story!'

…it is clearer on the posterior view because it passes on the posterior surface. Emerging from this area the popliteal artery becomes the posterior or tibial artery (fig G4). This artery passes down…

"I that am rudely stamped and want love's majesty," plowed on the kid, "to strut before a w-waan ton ambling nimph."

With the horrendous mispronunciation of the word nymph, Greg House could no longer take it."Ok, that's it!" he announced, slamming his book shut and shoving the kid out of the way before centering himself in front of the class.

"Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,/ Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time/Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,/ And that so lamely and unfashionable/That dogs bark at me as I halt by them—/Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,/ Have no delight to pass away the time/Unless to see my shadow in the sun."

The room fell silent. Everyone stared at Greg House as the final words echoed away. Everyone's eyes were wide with shock. A few of the students looked around, unsure if they should applaud him or yell at him. Corey, whose monologue had been interrupted with embarrassing results, was staring at the ground, face bright red with embarrassment. Ignoring everyone, Greg simply sat down and continued reading. Price blinked and shook off her astonishment. Then, in a clear voice that broke the thick silence announced. "Greg, see me directly after class." He looked up, nodded once, returned to his reading and the room slowly returned to its normal bustle.

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The bell rang. The class, chatting happily, picked up their bags and left, some throwing disconcerted glances over their shoulders at Greg House, who hadn't moved since Price had told him to stay behind. As the last teen filed out, he carefully marked his place and set the book down, directing his focus to Price. He'd probably earned himself a detention today. His mom would be mad at him, but what did that matter? She'd be too busy to punish him properly. The worst she could do is send a note to his father, but he was stationed back in Phoenix still, and it would take a while for a reply to come. By that time she would have forgotten about it and wouldn't make him follow the punishment his dad had suggested and…

"That was amazing."

Greg blinked. What?

"What?" he asked, thrown off.

"That monologue. It was amazing." Price was looking at him with a combination of amusement, anger, and incredulity. "You have a real talent."

Greg couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was getting complimented, not punished. What was going on here? He didn't answer.

"It's a shame however, that you choose to reveal it by humiliating poor Corey." Her voice held a tint of exasperation. "Instead of performing your own monologue." She sat down next to him. "Listen, Greg. I know you don't want to fail, but you have not participated once all semester. Until today."

Casually, she sat on the edge of her desk, pulling a red grade book to her and thumbing to the appropriate page. Dramatically, as only a drama teacher can, she pulled out a ballpoint pen from the rubble on her desk and clicked it open.

"You've not shown me a script, or a character analysis for your impromptu monologue today, but I will score you for the performance of such. You haven't filled out a criticism sheet for any of your classmates performances either," she said, as she made a few marks in the book. She set the book down and looked directly into his eyes. "It doesn't look good, Greg."

Sighing, she pulled herself off the desk. From the outside, she looked remorseful, inside she was barely containing a mischievous smirk.

"I know you've come to expect certain things from your teachers, and admittedly your performance merits the fulfillment of such. Usually." She paused. "However, your performance in other classes does not equate to preferential treatment in mine. Or at least it shouldn't. I'm not going to lie, Mr. House, I like you. You're a smart ass but I have to admit you're pretty talented."

Greg blinked, this was his first encounter with a teacher who cursed in the presence of students. Unwillingly he felt his respect for her go up a notch or two.

"So I'm gonna cut you a deal. You've done your monologue. I want a paper on Richard and his motivations…by Monday…and you're going to audition for my musical. An acting role in the musical. "My Fair Lady" if you've missed the thirty or so announcements I've made in class due to your general apathy. Do it, and you'll keep your 4.0. You won't even have to apologize to poor Corey."

"Shit," he said finally, and after shaking her hand resolutely gave her an ironic salute and strutted out of the classroom. What could Dr. Faustus do but take the devil's deal?

She smirked, already looking forward to the audition. She couldn't wait to have him in her directorial clutches for two months…and considering who she was sure would get the female lead, she looked forward to their meeting.