Sky: Well, last chapter was a big one. Not because anything happened in the plot; heck, if something did happen in the plot, where would I be? WITHOUT A STORY THAT'S WHERE! Anyway, it was big because it was the chapter I did two things for the first time. One, I got 100 reviews and two, I got 10,000 hits! YEAH! (hugs all and any person who has read this story) THANK YOU!

Cuddy: (sniffs) I'm so proud of you!

House: I'm just bored.

Cuddy: On this momentous occasion? Show some civility, you jerk!

House: Yes, mistress. Of course, mistress. Congratulations, mistress. You officially do not own us.

Sky: I do however own Marcus. That's right. You should all look confused right about here. Now, ONWARD!


Chapter 12: The Devil Himself

There were numerous times in Wilson's life when he had been terrified out of his wits: his wedding, his first job interview, his wedding, his other wedding, that one time with House in Georgia...

But each other those incidents paled in comparison to the cold wave of horror that had washed over him the moment he picked up that phone.

In all his years of knowing Cuddy he had never heard her act quite so irate (except for that other time in Vegas when they'd...never mind). If he had been in doubt about her feelings for House before, which of course, as the leader of Team Organized Chaos, he hadn't been, he most assuredly wasn't now. Granted, he had no idea what she was calling for, but his internal sense of Cuddy-ness told him this problem definitely pertained to House. And since he had been stuck at her home with a hang over the entire morning, he was very much convinced that he was not the cause of the whole situation. The only downside of them now being together was that he would have to listen to her ridiculous rants as well. House was enough! He filled his quota of insanity with him alone! Throw Cuddy into the mix and it was way exceeding his limit. There was only so much raving he could take, god dammit!

The door to the cafe (which was, amazingly, the same one they'd met up in a week ago at that ungodly time in the morning, ah, good times) swung wide open, throwing the figures silhouetted in its frame into sharp relief, one of them looking extremely pissed about something or other, the other, looking uncharacteristically humble. One can assign the emotions to their respective characters. With an aura of arrogant indignation swirling about her form, Cuddy slid into the seat across from him. Chase, who had come only because of this very woman's prodding, had the good grace to fetch her a cup of coffee before permitting her to embark on what could have been a tirade of seemingly heroic proportions. Apparently his logic followed the lines of "if I suck up to her enough, I won't be caught up in the madness." Wilson remembered being that naive. The poor boy was already doomed. Doomed.

"Alright Cuddy," the oncologist began after she had downed a significant amount of her glass, "What is it?"

She sighed, staring at him from over the rim of the mug, almost looking embarrassed for her previous outburst on the phone. Almost. "Stacy wants to date House. Again."

The Australian doctor choked on his own drink, though, whether it was because of laughter or shock was anyone's best guess. Either way, Cuddy was less then amused and her glare (which would have stunned a lesser man) shut him up quick.

"And you would suggest what?" He said by means of recovering.

"That we join forces. Unite under a common cause."

House rolled his eyes, finally sliding in next to the woman, " What's she's really saying is that she needs Wilson's devious mind to plot her nemesis' untimely demise."

"Demise? You want to kill her?"

Wilson shook his head, "Murder, great. Like I don't need that on my resume."

Cuddy shrugged in a nonchalant manner that could have been called disturbing, "Why does your resume matter? It's not like I can fire you. The only person that would know about it would be the three of us."

"And a court."

"Good point."

"But your idea is sound, I can't have Stacy just come in and destroy all of my, " Chase cleared his throat loudly, "Our," he received an approving nod, "good work. We'll help you in anything less then murder. Like...indictment. Or...larceny." House seemed to perk up at the last one. After all, he was the master of breaking and entering. Well...stealing the keys and then entering.

The alliance however, was formed. The four figures sat at their booth, heads dipped low as they scribbled plans on the corners of napkins, sipping their steaming cups of coffee. The unfortunate thing about coffee however is that it tends to make one very comfortable, and comfortableness leads to contented thoughts of pleasant things and those images tend to be fatal to devious plans. Especially ones that are malicious in nature.

And so, despite the fact that they were creating plans en' masse, none of them seemed plausible. Or even applicable really.

Cuddy looked up from her latest masterpiece scowling over at her partner. "House! We're supposed to be scheming here!"

"Maybe you missed Evil 101, Cuddles, but a death ray is a perfectly legitimate plan."

"Are you serious?"

Chase shook his head, "We couldn't use that plan anyway, House. Using a death ray constitutes as murder. Which we agreed not to get involved in."

"But it would be so cool." All three men nodded, gleefully. A death ray would be cool.

Meanwhile, back in the land of the semi-sane, Cuddy was putting the finishing touches on her own idea which, though significantly less creative then her male counterparts, seemed a good deal more inclined to succeed. "Wilson, why don't you look this one over?" He nodded, taking the flimsy piece of paper from her hand.

"Aw, Cuddy," House was already whining, having caught glimpse of her title, which was lacking the dramatic flair of any of the others, "You can't use a boring scheme to ruin Stacy. She is the queen of boring."

Chase rolled his eyes, "Untrue. Have you ever heard Cameron's life story?"

"Touché."

So, while the two discussed the finer points of sleeping with ones eyes open (which was an obvious requirement when listening to any long and mind numbingly boring story), Wilson's eyes were widening with unparalleled delight. "Oh, Cuddy, your plan has inspired me."

"You mean we're going to use my plan?"

"No. We're going to use my plan," She rolled her eyes, muttering something remarkably unladylike under her breath. No matter, soon she would see things his way. Like always. "It will simply require something. You wouldn't happen to have any siblings, would you Cuddy?"

She shrugged, "One younger brother."

"The same one that tortured Stacy without mercy all those years in college?"

"The same."

"How old is he?"

Cuddy was beginning to look suspicious, obviously not keen on involving her little brother in this scheme. Especially considering his dubious connection to the one they were plotting against. "Twenty eight."

"Excellent," Wilson gushed, rubbing his hands gleefully together. "Everyone listen up. I think I've got a plan."

And it was so crazy that it just might work.

All they needed was a young Mr. Cuddy.

The next day...

Dearest readers, if this had been a low budget movie (which of course, it is not. To the contrary, it is a low budget story, muahaha!) then at this point the overly dramatic sexy music would have begun. Yes, for through the door came none other then the infamous young man that was the stuff of wet teenage dreams and the recurring figure in many of Stacy's nightmares, his blue eyes scanning the familiar lobby fondly. With a flick of his dark hair (which simultaneously undermined everything his sister stood for), the stranger continued onward, his boots clicking against the tile, long trench coat billowing in a wind that was not really present but added in by the star struck (and male deprived) nurses.

Yes, every creature that was classified as female had commenced drooling, for this man, tall and lithe, was as handsome as his sister was lovely, pale, sharp featured and with striking blue eyes and...(sighs) just imagine a male version of Cuddy alright? Got it? Good. Now that we have an image dear readers, (go re-watch a show involving Cuddy if you don't a have a satisfactory picture in your head) you understand. A generously endowed family the Cuddy's.

So, anyway, while everyone else was drooling (which was, of course, the sane thing to do,) Cameron happened to look up from the mound of paper work loaded upon her pretty little frame by none other then the queen demon herself, only to be blinded by the new comer and all his divine loveliness. Fortunately, Cameron was exposed to gorgeous men on a daily basis and thus was considerably more immune to his charms then her other spinster friends.

"Who is he?" the doctor breathed, momentarily forgetting the woman hovering over her shoulder like a cloud of impending doom. It was not, in fact Cuddy, but rather, Stacy, who was looking less awed by, but more horrified of, the man.

"That," the older woman was muttering, keeping a tight hold of her lovely accomplices arm (so she wouldn't run off of course) while she spoke. As though she could negate the nightmare. Which she couldn't. Which was just as well. "Is the devil himself."

While I'm sure you would like to remain and listen to their conversation dear readers, I am afraid you cannot. We shall, instead, follow the young man into the lions den.

In the poor boy strode, looking very much unperturbed, which shocked the collective body of nurses. It did, however, make them snap out of their momentary swooning. After all, anyone who charged head first into such danger could not be sane and the insane were not quite as appealing as the normal. Which is a shame really.

With a twist of the knob and not a glance at the secretary (who, by the way, didn't even bother to try and stop him) he slid inside.

The first thing that registered was that all the blinds looking outwards had been drawn shut, leaving the room lit only by the few lamps scattered across it. However cozy and romantic it might have seemed to some, it felt a bit...cave-ish. Yes, cave-ish. Don't bother trying to tell him that's not a word dear readers, he doesn't listen. Believe me.

Whatever feelings of distaste he may have felt from the darkness was immediately alleviated the moment his eyes settled upon their prize. Indeed, that one thing brightened the room as effectively as a 70 watt bulb.

And that thing was Cuddy. Lisa. Not him.

"Dah-ling!"

It is to be noted, that in all the overly exuberant scenario's she (being Lisa) had played in her head, she had been a good deal more poised, refined and generally elegant then this. Unfortunately, in all the afore mentioned situations she had forgotten to take into account the unstoppable force that was her younger brother, who had the rare talent of stripping away all those enviable qualities. Especially when they were hers.

The young man, akin to the rest of his impatient gender, vaulted over her perfectly organized (she stifled the urge to quail as he happened to knock over one of her pencil jars...there went another two hours...) desk, saving the few seconds it would have taken to walk around for this more showy display. Which was fine as it allowed him to sweep her up in a bone crushing embrace all the faster. She was somewhat less then enthralled.

After another mind numbingly slow moment, she was released from the death grip and breathing was allowed to resume. Which was, again, just as well as death by hug is not something one wants printed as "cause of death".

Despite the fact that he allowed her air, he did not in fact, release her, opting instead to put her in a most childish head lock. "Ah, Lizzy, I haven't seen you in ages."

There was infinite, almost maternal, patience in her tone, "Marcus..."

"Alright, I haven't seen you in a month. A month! That's far to long Liz! You know I can't effectively wreak havoc upon your life when I'm not present in it."

"Yes, a shame that."

"Don't be sarcastic."

"To late."

He paused, trying to think of a suitably snappy response. Apparently however, her comment was to lame to merit such a thing. So he settled simply for peace, "Touché."

Lost in the exuberance of his greeting, poor Marcus had neglected examining the room, preferring to bull rush his equally hapless sister. Had he taken the few moments, he might have seen the three figures languidly reclining in their respective chairs.

When he finally did notice (for, he was not exactly a very observant person. Which is putting it lightly) the effect was profound. The young man stiffed, his eyes slowly moving from House, to Wilson, to Chase, and then back again, trying to make ends meet. He glanced down at his scowling sister, "Liz...who are they...?"

"Yes, Liz, who are we?"

"House, shut up!" Cuddy freed herself with enviable grace, rearranging herself to look more like the staunch figure of medicine she was supposed to be. "Everyone, this is my younger brother Marcus. Marcus, these are my employees..." there was a shared glare aimed her direction from said employees and co-conspirators. "Alright, my friends, House, Wilson, and Chase."

Marcus seemed to be stifling a look of distaste. "That's right; all you psycho's call each other by your last names here." He rolled his eyes. "Pleased to meet you all."

The other three men were to busy exchanging heated glances to catch the last part. Wilson, obviously the ring leader, finally rose, inspecting the youngest Cuddy for any obvious flaws. In return, the inspectee shot a confused look over at his sister, "Liz, Liz your friends are kind of creeping me out..."

It was to late for an escape however for the oncologist had finished his inspection, sending a quick nod Cuddy's direction. "He'll do." And that only served to horrify the poor boy more.

"He'll do for what exactly...!?" He demanded, taking another step towards his sister. Of course, she was sharing the doctors half crazed grin so...probably wasn't the wisest move.

House smirked, coming to drape an arm over his shoulders. The two were around the same height so this wasn't half so awkward as when he did it to Cuddles. "Markey, you've just been marked as bait. Congratulations."

The Dean of Medicine fixed her glare unmoving upon his figure, "House..."

But alas! She was to late! "Don't worry, you'll have fun. Sort of...you don't mind taking orders do you? Of course not, you had Cuddy as a sister. Can't imagine what kind of childhood you had, what with her being such an b..."

"HOUSE!"

Whatever he had originally intended was hastily revised with devilish good humor, "Beautiful young lady." He could almost feel Chase rolling his eyes in the back ground.

Marcus look terrified again, eyes fixed upon House. "Liz...what's going on?"

She sighed, "Wilson explains it better then I do."

"Yes, but you're less crazy."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Fine. Do you remember Stacy, that girl back in college?" The smirk she got told her he most definitely did remember her...and probably some of the awful little bouts they'd had. "Well...she's proving to be a problem in a...relationship of mine."

With an air of offended pride, House stepped forward, drawing the slight woman up in an overly dramatic embrace, "What she's saying is she doesn't want any competition for my lovin'."

"Stop translating what I'm saying."

"Speak clearly. Then I won't have to."

Meanwhile, Marcus looked on the verge of being sick, his pale skin turning a tinge more green as he slumped into the closest chair, unable to avert his eyes from the duo. "Thank you for that little tid bit. As her brother I really needed to know that."

"You should be well informed."

"I should be sick."

Chase shook his head, offering him a knowing smile, "Give it time, you will be."

Wilson was the only one able to keep his cool through the whole ordeal, his arms crossed in a very poised manner behind his back as he circled the youngest Cuddy's chair. "House is right, you should be well informed. We have a mission for you. Your sisters happiness may be at stake."

"Cheap shot."

"Yes I know. We need you on this Marcus, but we cannot risk jeopardizing the plan by disclosing it to you. Not before you agree to help us on this." From the desperate look he was shooting his love lorn sister (who had purposely put on a look of utter dejection which House had gleefully joined in on, poor boy!) Wilson knew he had one, so continued on without pause. "We need you to distract Stacy while we make steps towards our final goal."

One eyebrow rose in that same annoying fashion his sister had, "And how would you propose I do that...?

"Dating her of course."

It took everyone present to drown out his scream of shock. Or terror.

Meanwhile, in area of the hospital that was much more sane...

"Can we go now..."

"No."

Cameron let out a long overdue sigh, settling back down into her uncomfortable half crouch while trying, without success, to avoid the Brenda's wrathful glare. "Stacy, this is bordering on stalking."

The lawyer smiled wolfishly, "Exactly. Bordering. Now pay attention, I think they're coming out."

Only one person came out of Cuddy's office. Only one; and it was none other then he who was rumored to be related to the good Dean. She could feel Stacy slinking down lower, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Stacy!" He called out, striding over to them without pause.

Her companion groaned silently, "What is it, Marcus?"

He smirked, "I see you remember me."

"You're difficult to forget." Cameron doubted that had the more obvious connotation.

It was here that he seemed to grow a bit hesitant, his face twisting as though the very notion of his next phase was rather distasteful. Or revolting. Whatever the cause, he managed to get it out with suitable poise, "Yes, I was an awful child back then. Completely terrible to you. Perhaps..." he seemed to gag momentarily, "Perhaps you would like to come out to dinner with me? I'm sure I could...replace some of those vile memories with some sinfully good ones." Now he was definitely a tad more green.

Stacy too, looked on the verge of gagging. With years more experience however, she managed to keep the reaction to a minimal, "I would love that. Why don't you pick me up tonight at say...eight?"

"That sounds...good..."

And with that he retreated. Cameron watched him go before turning to her new conspirator. "Stacy, don't you hate him?"

"Yeah."

"Then, why did you agree to date him! Doing that just toys with his feelings and is...is...cruel!"

Stacy raised a brow. "You do realize he was disgusted to?"

"Yeah I know."

"Besides, this is just a ploy. Cuddy's just helping me to win House back. By letting me date her brother, House will get jealous and come back to me!"

Cameron had half a mind to warn her, "I don't think that..."

"Sweety, you'd best stay out of things you don't understand."

But then again...it might be fun to let her find out for herself...


Sky: YES! A quick and moderately long update! NO MORE COMPLAINTS! Muahaha...

Cuddy: (raises brow) Are you alright?

House: That a stupid question. Look at her! She's in-freaking-sane.

Sky: (laughs maniacally) Oh these next chapters are going to be fun...

House: (Sighs) I'll go calm her down...

Cuddy: (smiles) Thank you. Everyone else, review. It's the good thing to do.

House: That's not how you sell something! REVIEW! Or I beat you with my cane!

Cuddy: Maybe Sky's not the only one who's gone crazy. Till next chapter everyone.