A/N: Hi, readers! Short update today, but the next chapter (Jensen) is huge, so that will make up for it. There are five chapters left in Legacy counting this one, I think, unless mental chapters don't match written-out chapters again, which can happen. Things always look shorter mentally. Anyway, we're heading for the climax very shortly. Since I have some vacation time next week, I plan to write once I've worked myself into tongue-dragging exhaustion outside, so hopefully Legacy won't be much longer wrapping up. I'd really like to post the next story in the series, a one-shot, on Halloween, just because of the title. It's called Superstition.
Thanks as always for reading and reviewing.
(H/C)
Bucks, Jr., was not happy this morning. House could hear him before he even reached the door of the room. "I don't care what you get me. Just bring something. Decide yourself without telling me; you're good at that, after all."
House picked up speed a little - the leg was better today, at least - and got to the room just in time to see Castleton's mother standing up with an air of ruffled disapproval. "A little courtesy wouldn't hurt, Brendon."
Her son pulled his eyes away from his ubiquitous laptop. "Courtesy? After everything else in the last week, you're going to criticize my courtesy?" His eyes focused beyond her as he spotted House. "Where have you been this morning?"
"Busy," House replied. "Is this a bad time? I could come back later." The last two sentences were anything but sincere, simply poking at the mother.
She gave a soft, dignified huff. "Speaking of courtesy, Dr. House, your own could definitely use some polishing. In fact, I intend to have a few words with your wife about what I've observed in this hospital this week."
"Be my guest," House replied. "I'm sure Dr. Cuddy-House will be thrilled to put up with you telling her how I diagnosed your son, unlike his other medical morons, and solved the case but with inadequate courtesy and social graces. Her schedule even happens to be open for the next half hour."
She almost vibrated for a moment as she tried to think up a suitably withering retort, then simply stalked past him and out the door. House turned back to Castleton and his girlfriend, both of them grinning now.
"Wish I had a video of that," Castleton said, suddenly looking younger. It was a brief transformation; the disease was back peering over his shoulder in the next second. "What do the latest tests show?"
"I'm sorry I was delayed this morning," House said. "First off, your eyes are perfectly normal. The disease has missed them." Castleton slumped back against the pillows in relief, and his girlfriend squeezed his hand. "Second, your kidney function is looking better this morning. The meds are helping to stabilize things. It won't last forever, but like I said, we can slow down the process quite a bit. If things continue to improve over the weekend, you'll probably be out of here by Monday morning. How are the hearing aids working?"
Castleton looked down briefly. "Fine." The resentment was already rooted and sprouting. House couldn't blame him. Being dependent on a mechanical device to help you function was as annoying as it was helpful at times; he hated his cane.
The girlfriend spoke up softly. "Maybe you can still get that bid done in time, Brent."
"Yeah. Might as well work while I can. Besides, my father wanted this one. I'm at least going to give him a fight for it, even if I'm sick now."
"You've still got a lot of contracts left in you before thinking about giving up the company," House pointed out. "Tell your mercenary brother to get lost. About that bid, I was doing a little research late yesterday after leaving here. This is the Greenfield contract?"
Castleton looked back at him, startled. "Yes, it is. How did you. . ."
"That internet is a wonderful thing. Given the field you and Forest are both in and the timing, it wasn't too hard. Besides an announcement of the deadline for bids in professional publications earlier this year, there had also been a general media profile done a few months ago on the owner of that company. I've . . . had my own experiences lately with the media." Both of them gave him a sympathetic grin at the understatement. "They are useful now and then, annoying as they are. One thing that story revealed is that Greenfield had a son die from genetic kidney failure. Not Alport; it was another disease. Human interest story, sort of all-his-money-couldn't-save-his-son deal. But it occurred to me, there is probably no better way to earn brownie points on that contract than a big media announcement this weekend in the press that you have donated a substantial amount for research into genetic kidney diseases. It would, with him, give you a significant boost over Forest, and it would give him something positive to associate with you other than just as your alleged dad's successor."
Castleton nodded slowly. "That might help. I like it; using some of Dad's money to one up my real Dad."
"Or, even better, using your real Dad's money to one up your real Dad," House suggested. "Did you tear up that check from Forest yet?"
"No. I'm tempted, but I've fought it so far. That might be the only tangible thing I ever get from him."
"You know, PPTH has a nephrology department and has even done a few studies on certain diseases. You could endorse that check over to the hospital, designate it for studying patients with genetic renal diseases, and then it's his own money that will be working against him when you break the story to the press. Eighteen years of child support in his income bracket should be a nice figure."
The smile spread slowly, but it was ear to ear after a few moments. "That's perfect. Take that, you absentee bastard." Castleton turned to his girlfriend. "Can you get me that check out of the nightstand drawer?" She retrieved it, and House stepped forward to offer a pen. Castleton signed the back with a flourish, then handed it over to House as he returned the pen. House pocketed it.
"Thank you. Now, just to complete the circle, I'll go down and present it to my wife. She ought to be having a conference with your mother right about now."
Castleton laughed, the first time he had done so in a few days. "Dr. House, I'm glad I met you. Thanks for everything."
House smiled back at him. "My pleasure."
(H/C)
Cuddy sat behind her desk, professional expression of interest and concern glued in place, and thought longingly of the weekend.
"He is rude, has zero concept of boundaries, and has greatly insulted both myself and my entire family. Medical genius is no excuse for such appalling lack of manners. I can assure you, Dr. Cuddy-House, that it will be quite a long wait if you were counting on any donation from my family. In fact, I honestly cannot comprehend how you can stand the man personally. He must have quite a bank roll himself to make it worthwhile."
The fire lit in Cuddy's eyes. "Now there, Mrs. Castleton, you are going too far. What you choose to do or not do with your money is, of course, your business, but my personal life is not . . ."
At that moment, House entered without knocking. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was I interrupting a complaint? This will only take a minute, then you can continue where you left off." He limped to Cuddy's desk, going around it to stand at her side facing Mrs. Castleton, and he whipped out the check with a flourish and handed it to Cuddy. "My patient, in gratitude for his treatment at PPTH, would like to make a donation. He's designating it for the nephrology department. He will be notifying the press, of course."
Cuddy stared at the check. It took her a minute to even register that it was on Forest's account, not Castleton's, and made out to their patient. She flipped it over suspiciously and looked at the endorsement, then looked back up at her husband. He was standing there with his eyes absolutely dancing, enjoying every second of this. "He asked you to bring this check down here and give it to me, Dr. House?"
"Absolutely. Deposit to your heart's content. Castleton might want a statement of gratitude from you for the media. You can call his room and sort out the details on that yourself. Nice big splash in the Sunday papers, good press for the hospital. He's very happy with the service he has received here." House pointedly looked away from Cuddy to Mrs. Castleton, who was sitting stunned in the chair. "Well, I have to get back to work. Have a good rest of the day." He limped out, head up proudly.
Cuddy looked at Mrs. Castleton, fighting to keep the professional expression at first, then surrendering without regret. "Was that all you wanted to say, Mrs. Castleton? I really am quite busy, and it looks like I need to set up a press release, too."
Mrs. Castleton stood up, knowing when she had lost, and retreated with what dignity she could. "That will be all, Dr. Cuddy-House." She marched out, and Cuddy waited. Thirty seconds later, sure enough, House was back.
Cuddy got up and walked across the office to join him. "Okay, Greg, is that really a valid check, or just a stunt for the mother?"
House dramatically put a hand to his heart. "Your suspicion wounds me. Yes, Lisa, it's a valid check and a real donation. He really does want the whole shebang, too, press release, all trumpets and fanfares."
"What's going on here that I don't know about?" she asked.
"Nothing that makes any difference to the hospital. Don't look gift checks in the mouth." He kissed her, then parted a minute later with an extra squeeze for interest. "I'm off to see if the team has found anything interesting, but remember, I'm leaving early."
"Right. I'm not sure just how you accomplished this, but thanks, Greg. Will I find out about the surprise tonight?"
"Wait and see," he replied. He limped out jauntily again, and Cuddy smiled, watching him. She silently wished him happy plotting - and then a thorough session, chocolate cake included.
