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Since House was hardly a social butterfly, and since neither the Board nor Cuddy wanted to publicize what had happened, there really wasn't any fallout immediately after the settlement paperwork was signed. House simply did what he had always done – take cases, abuse his fellows, and gripe about clinic duty. He and Cuddy avoided each other, but they had been doing that for quite a while, so no one saw any difference.

At mid-month, there was a budget meeting for department heads, to give them an idea what their budgets would be in the next year, so they could start planning in the last quarter.

House had never attended one of those meetings. When Cameron worked for him, he sent her. Once she left, Foreman had taken on the duty, thinking it made him more visible to the other department heads and because he liked to think of himself as House's second-in-command.

Of course, House thought no such thing. If he were ever to have a second in his department, it would be Chase, because of his diagnostic ability. It was the Department of Diagnostics, not the Department of Paper Pushing, after all. House hated everything having to do with administration, and he assumed that Chase did, too. So he was, in his own back-handed way, trying to spare Chase the boredom of dealing with all the administrative crap.

In any case, Foreman returned to House's office to report.

"Why are you here?" House asked Foreman as he came through the door.

"I thought you might want to hear about the meeting," Foreman replied.

"Since when?"

"Well, this one was a little different."

House was certain there would be a financial impact from the settlement, and he could feel a knot forming in his stomach, so he needed to deflect. "What happened? Did Wilson stand up on the conference table and strip to Minnie the Moocher?"

"Thanks for the ugly visual," Foreman grimaced. "And I used to like that song."

"Well, did Cuddy flash her ta-tas?"

"No. God, will you just stop with the repulsive images and let me say it? Every department is taking a fifteen per cent budget cut."

"Ouch. I guess we'll have to be less profligate with the whiteboard markers."

"Among other things."

"I can save twenty-five percent of my personnel costs if somebody quits. Think I can get Thirteen to pull a Cameron? Of course, I'm married now, so the I'll-only-come-back-if-you-go-on-a-date-with-me schtick won't work. But, if we went to all the trouble to get rid of her, we wouldn't want her back anyway, would we?"

Foreman rolled his eyes. "Don't you want to know why we have to cut back so much?"

"Another Republican governor trying to cut wages and destroy the unions? Oh, wait, we don't have a union . . . "

Foreman huffed impatiently. "It's because of a lawsuit."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. And that's all Cuddy would tell us. She wouldn't say how much or who was involved."

"Interesting."

"After the meeting, I heard people talking in the hall. They all assume it was you – either a lawsuit from a patient or the one you brought against the hospital. Which it is?"

House gave Foreman an exaggerated smirk. "Oh, you're just too clever! I almost answered that. Great interrogation technique. Did you learn that from all your personal run-ins with the cops, or did your criminal bro teach you?"

At this point, Foreman was pretty much immune to House's remarks about his family's criminal background, so what House said didn't bother him in the slightest. But, he also realized House wasn't going to tell him what was going on, either. Well, he'd have to find out some other way.

"Just letting you know you need to figure out how to cut your budget," Foreman shrugged.

"Since you're my budget guru, why don't you put something together for me to look at."

"You're kidding me."

"It's either that or Cuddy will decide. And you know how she's felt about me for the last two and a half years."

"So, you're saying that if I don't want to the whole department eliminated, I better do a budget."

"Damn, you're good at this."

Of course, Foreman knew that House telling him he was good at anything administrative was an insult. Foreman decided not to respond, since there was no point.

"I'll see what I can do," he said in his most resigned voice.

Foreman exited the office through the door to the conference room.

House went back to surfing the internet. He wondered how long he had before the shit really hit the fan.


House came in more or less on time the following Monday. He saw Wilson sitting in the chair opposite House's desk. Showtime, House thought.

"Why it's our own kindly Doctor Wilson," House declared, his voice dripping with saccharine and sarcasm as he slid his backpack off his shoulder and put it on a chair near his desk. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"This isn't fair, House." Wilson declared.

"As you know, my father was a prick. But I was still able to learn a few things from the bastard. One of which was that life isn't fair. Now that we have that settled, why don't you go back to fawning over your bald-headed cancer kids?"

"Those kids are about to have fewer treatment options, less research to help them, and access to fewer ways to help them cope."

"Hey, I'm willing to lend them my Grand Theft Auto game cartridge."

"House!"

"What do you want, Wilson?"

"I want you to stop this. I want you to un-sign whatever agreement you just signed and return the settlement. I don't want you to take down the hospital."

"A fifteen percent budget cut is hardly 'taking down the hospital.' I bet we could eliminate twenty five percent just by shutting down the clinic."

"Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you? You'd get out of clinic duty and you'd get to keep the money."

"Sounds like a win-win."

"Only for you."

"And your point is?"

"God, House, why do you have to be such a selfish bastard?"

"Other than an opportunity for you to state the obvious, is there any purpose at all to this conversation?"

"Give back the money."

"Sorry. Done deal, as you already know."

"I just can't believe you're doing this. I thought there were lines even you wouldn't cross. But, extortion – "

"Hey, I used to get you to pay for my lunch all the time."

"You can't possibly be comparing the two things. A seven-dollar lunch versus a multi-million dollar settlement . . . "

"I hope you're not trying to make the case that if it's a small enough amount, it's okay."

"Well, it certainly has less impact. Do you realize how disruptive this will be to the hospital? To the way we're all able to practice medicine?"

"Now you're trying to guilt me? Don't you know I have no conscience?"

"You do too have a conscience House; I've seen it."

"Because of your pathological need to bleed for humanity, you don't know this, but, for the average person, guilt only occurs when you've actually done something wrong."

"Okay. And you know all about how an 'average' person would feel because you're such a model for normality and mental health."

"I'm better than I was. In fact, I'm doing okay."

"So, you feel no regret about what you're doing?"

"Why should I? As you know, some crazy shit happened here. I'm just getting compensated for damage that was done to me."

"But you did so much crazy shit yourself – "

"Why does everyone think that because I was a little out there, I somehow deserved to be punished? And even if I did deserve consequences, they should not have been what Cuddy did to me."

"House – "

"You're a department head. How many people work for you? A couple hundred? If you had a difficult employee who was handicapped, do you honestly think that making him drag himself up four flights of stars, or taking his cane, or tripping him in his office is the best way to deal with it? Would you let Sam come to the hospital cafeteria to trip him?"

"You have no way of knowing if Cuddy had any idea that Lucas was going to trip you."

"Maybe. But she sure as hell knew about it afterward, and she did nothing about it."

"I always knew you were good at rationalizing."

"I'm not rationalizing! This stuff happened to me, and you know it! You saw it, for Christ's sake!"

"Well, maybe not rationalizing. But you are exaggerating."

"No, I'm not. Was anything I just said, or anything I said when I was deposed for the lawsuit untrue?"

"No, but . . . "

"But what?"

"Well, it just wasn't that big a deal at the time it happened."

"Now I get it."

"Get what?"

"Anything that Cuddy or Lucas did, if they had done it to someone else, it would have been terrible, but since it was just me, that asshole House, well, that made it okay."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"You have to admit, House, that some of your own behavior was outrageous – "

"And you're still being obtuse. The whole point is that no matter what I did, Cuddy wasn't justified to do what she did. She's my boss. She's paid to know better. And the outcome of the lawsuit proves that."

"I don't agree with that."

"We haven't seen eye-to-eye on most things for a long time now, so I guess I'll just add this to the list."

"You know what I find fascinating, though?"

"Oh God, more amateur psychoanalysis. Get it over with."

"That you seem to think this is fair. That you almost seem to think you're entitled to this."

"I am, Wilson."

"But, the House I used to know wouldn't think that."

"And I can't say I'm sorry he's gone, are you?"

"Yes, I am. He had some sense of restraint, some sense of humility."

"No, I didn't."

"You knew you were a great doctor, but you weren't arrogant as a person. In fact, you were pretty humble. You knew your limitations."

"Knew my limitations? Don't you mean I was crippled by them as much as I am by my leg? I felt so inadequate I didn't think I deserved to be anything but miserable. You honestly miss that pathetic mess?"

"You weren't pathetic; you just needed – "

"A rescuer? An enabler?"

"I was not an enabler, House."

"No, you just wrote my scripts and watched me spiral down."

"I'm not going to be held responsible for your behavior, House."

"Fine. As long as Cuddy is held responsible for hers."

"House, this hospital doesn't exist for you to play out your personal vendettas."

"This wasn't a vendetta, Wilson, it was justice."

"Oh, so now you're some avenging angel? Helping all the downtrodden of Princeton Plainsboro?"

"Naw, they'll have to hire their own attorneys."

"I just don't know where you got this attitude."

"What attitude? That I'm tired of letting people shit on me? It's the result of some decent therapy."

"Nolan did this to you? I find that hard to believe. You were in therapy all the time you were living with me, and I never saw you act like this."

"Let's just say after you kicked me out, I gained a new perspective."

"Why would that – wait a minute – you met your wife after you moved out of the condo."

"Don't bring her into this."

"Why not? She's the one who made you question everything, who turned you against your friends."

"She gave me a different way of looking at things, and she made me see that my 'friends' were anything but."

"She's wrong House. She's isolated you from us."

"Given what you've done to me, I hardly think that's a bad thing."

"And, of course, now that you're married to her, she gets to benefit from your windfall."

"Are you saying she's a gold digger?"

"Well, she is set for life now, and all she has to do is put up with you for a while."

"She's not one of your ex-wives, Wilson."

"Just wait until you get the money, then you'll see. She'll leave you so fast your head will spin. And she'll get even more money because of the child."

"That's enough, Wilson."

"What, hitting a little too close to home, House?"

"The only hitting that's going to happen is my cane making contact with your face, if you don't get out of here right now!"

"You'll see."

Wilson got up and took three or four long strides out the door into the hallway as House glared after him.

God, and that's the easiest conversation I'm going to have about this, House thought. Maybe they'll just stay the hell away from me.

House knew that was wishful thinking. Since there was nothing he could do about it, he'd just have to deal with it as it happened.


As the days passed, there was no overt hostility. Of course, as he'd expected, he was completely ostracized by his peers. Not that he'd been chummy with them to begin with, so it wasn't too horrible.

It was troublesome when his staff would get thwarted scheduling tests, and he thought he sensed their resentment of him because of it. The way they felt towards him bothered him, not that he would admit it to anyone.

The weird thing was how Chase was acting. After he'd been in the surgical department and come back, he'd been standing up to House, to the point of punching him out once. But now, just as everyone else on the team was becoming more and more resentful, Chase had gone back to his old behavior of sucking up, complimenting House, getting him coffee and otherwise being obsequious.

House couldn't figure out why Chase was doing it. House certainly had nothing to offer him. Anyone who worked for him now was tainted with House's pariah status. It took a while, but it slowly dawned on him that Chase was trying to be funny, or, at least, amuse House. Chase's "performance" was just over the top enough to let House know it wasn't real, but not enough that the other fellows could figure it out.

It was a gift given during a difficult time, and just what House needed. House would have to find some subtle way to thank him.

In any case, in spite of his more difficult working conditions, House had been able to avoid losing a patient. He didn't know how long he could sustain that, but, again, it was just something he'd have to deal with.

Going home at night to Ann made all of it easier to take. She knew it would be tough, and she sensed how upsetting it was for him, without his having to admit it, which would have been mortifying for House, the-I-don't give-a-damn-what-people-think-of-me rebel.

So, she cooked his favorite food, massaged him when he was in pain, and otherwise stayed as physically close to him as possible. And, considering he always thought he was a man who didn't need it, House took all the succor Ann offered him.

One night, after Ann had given him a massage, and they'd had some intense but comforting sex, House was spooning Ann and slowly caressing her belly.

"I forgot to tell you," Ann began after realizing neither of them was going to sleep any time soon, "I got a call from Mitch today, and the money has hit the brokerage account."

"Mitch?" House questioned.

"You know, the financial planner Shel suggested.

"It didn't take long for you to become chummy."

"You let anyone manage that amount of money for you, and, all of a sudden, he's your best friend."

"How much was it?"

"After Shel's fee and the taxes, twenty-five million and change."

"And change, huh? Don't you sound blasé."

"I know. I just have this picture in my mind of bedtime at the Gates household. Bill: 'So, how much did George contribute to the foundation?' Melinda: 'Fifty million.' Bill: 'Cheapskate. He said he was going to do a hundred.' Melinda: "He will, he's just waiting for his accounts to settle.' Bill: "Oh. Sounds good. Just make sure he ponies up the other fifty million, okay?' Melinda: "Yes, dear.' "

House smiled slightly. "So, this Mitch guy is a planner - what 'plans' does he have for our money?"

"Well, he agreed with Shel that we should set up a trust for the baby, and a 529 for college. He also said it would be a good idea for us to get long term health insurance, and he thought we should possibly have an annuity in addition to my 401K and your 403b for retirement. He said he needs to know what our financial situation was before the settlement, too. He wants to meet with us. He said the first meeting would be fairly lengthy."

"Wow, a day-long meeting discussing finances and financial planning, with more to come after that. Just shoot me now."

Ann smiled. "And we still need to talk about the budget for the house. I'm thinking we should limit it to five million."

"Five million? Are your serious? What kind of a palace are we talking about?"

"First of all, as you well know, this is New Jersey, not Oklahoma; housing costs are up there."

"Still, five million? How big a monstrosity is this going to be?"

"It's actually not that big, maybe five to six thousand square feet, including your office space."

"That's huge!"

"For a guy who lived in an eight -hundred foot-square apartment for fifteen years, maybe. Compared to some of the bigger homes in the upscale neighborhoods around here, not so much."

"Well, if it isn't that big, why would it be so expensive?"

"It's a custom-design and a custom-build, so it's not going to be as cheap and one of those developments where you get three models to choose from and the builder knocks out a neighborhood full of identical-looking houses, and just like all the other neighborhoods he's already built. There are no economies of scale here. And, the features we want really push up the cost."

"I could do without the radiant heat."

"That would probably save less than a hundred thousand dollars, so I don't think that would make much difference."

"Every little bit helps."

"I know, but . . . "

"What?"

"I think the biggest expense, other than the house being custom, is the security system."

"How much can that possibly cost? They put in some cable, a few motion detectors in the rooms and a couple of keypads, and you're done. Granted, in a bigger house you'd need more of that stuff, but, still . . . "

"There's more to it than that. There are cameras that have to be infrared so they'll work at night, outside motion detectors, computer software and video monitors, and a lot of other stuff I'm probably forgetting."

"Jesus, Ann, do we really need all that stuff? I mean, this isn't the Philadelphia mint or anything."

"I know. You're right. It's probably too much."

House could feel Ann moving herself away from him as she curled up into a tight ball, or, as tight as she could around the basketball growing in her abdomen.

It felt cold where her body pulled away from his. House wanted to pull her back, but he needed to think about this. It took a moment, but he thought he finally understood. She's been violated in her home, and then she thought she got away from it, only to have two of the people responsible for violating her contact her in her new place. And threaten to violate her again. And this time, she has a baby to protect. Too bad her husband is so useless.

"This isn't about your inability to protect me," Ann said, almost as if she were reading his mind. "Believe me, even if I had married a nineteen year-old body-builder, it wouldn't matter. There are three of them. And that doesn't include Lucas, who, although he isn't abnormally strong, more than makes up for it with his extremely clever psychopathic brain."

"Yeah, but if things go well with the criminal investigation—"

"Even if they get convicted, and they receive somewhere near the maximum sentences, how long do you think they're going to get? Ten years, maybe? And Lucas maybe even less. And then what? They'll be out and even angrier. If they'd rape me in the ass, they'd probably go after you, too. And David. Oh my God, Greg . . . "

House could hear Ann's breathing becoming irregular. House couldn't see her face, so he didn't exactly know why. It was possible it was from crying, but, it could also be from her panicking. They found out at her last appointment that her blood pressure had been inching up a little bit. She didn't need the stress to raise it further.

House gently turned her so she was facing him and enfolded her in his arms. "Shhh, take it easy. It's okay. We'll do whatever you want. Whatever the security people suggest. A steel mesh fence with razor wire on top, if that's what it takes. Guards twenty-four-seven. Hey, I've always wanted to say, 'Release the hounds.' "

House could feel Ann relax in his arms. "That fence would look lovely in an upscale neighborhood, wouldn't it? Our neighbors would hate our guts."

"As long as you feel secure, I don't give a shit what the neighbors think."

"The zoning board might."

"Yeah, well, we'll buy them off. We have the money now."

"If what's in the news is any indication, it is shocking how little it takes to buy off a public official, isn't it?"

"Yep. A few thou and it's a done deal."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"I'd do anything to make you feel secure, Annie."

"I know that and I appreciate it. Too bad there's nothing you or anyone else can do. I'll always be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. Assault – the gift that keeps on giving."

"Bastards."

"No point in dwelling on it. All we can do is plan sufficiently and hope for the best."

"I once told someone, 'Hope is for sissies.' "

"Do you still believe that?"

"I did, until I met this amazing woman who decided I was worth loving. I'm still not completely sure hope is a good thing, but I think it's possible that sometimes, it might be . . . "

"I'm sure St. Augustine or St. Thomas Aquinas had something profound to say about it, but I'm just too tired to think about it right now."

"Yeah, me, too. Let's try to get some sleep."

"Okay, baby."

They fell asleep and dreamt disturbing dreams.


A/N: There is an obscure reference to Hugh in this chapter, and points to anyone who can find it. (Here's a hint: what do Jeeves and Wooster and Band From TV have in common?) As always, thanks for reading, commenting and the favorities and alerts.