Cryptic crosswords
A.N. A day or two late, but happy Easter! And for those in the UK: happy lockdown easing!
House was browsing the internet absentmindedly waiting for news on their patient when Cuddy wandered in. "Evening", she said. "You busy?".
"For you, darling, I'm never busy".
"Cameron is a lucky woman, you old charmer", she smiled, taking a seat and pulling out her iPad. If any of the other doctors under this roof dared to call her 'darling' they'd likely have been severely reprimanded, if not fired.
"Is she?", House murmured, spinning a pencil between his fingers.
"What was that?". The Dean had been buried in her notes and looked up momentarily.
"Nothing". House cleared his throat. "What's up? No, let me guess. Hmm. You're writing a dating profile and want me to give it a once-over. Try wiccanneedsafatherfigure dot com. Your melons will make you stand out from the crowd. It won't even matter what you write".
"Your input, as ever, is valuable to me, House. I came for a London debrief and to ask a favour".
"Oh, come on. You know I'm not good with favours. Quid pro quo caused the fall of the Roman empire, y'know".
"Well, how about we start with the conference, then?". Cuddy's fingers were hovering over the screen, poised to take notes.
"Do we have to? It's kinda late, and I'm waiting on my patient…".
"I did actually see your fellows busy in post-op", she nodded. "Fine, we can put it off 'til tomorrow if you can tell me your patient's name".
House screwed one eye shut and looked at the ceiling as he thought. "I wanna say…Peter…Parker?".
"Spiderman? Good try".
"Peter Pettigrew, I meant".
"Harry Potter".
"Fine, what is it?".
"Peter Parr".
"Damn, I was pretty close, to be fair".
"Close", Cuddy agreed, "but no cigar. You may speak now".
House shrugged. "London went well. PPTH came out of it with reputation well and truly burnished, alas". For the next fifteen minutes, they discussed the conference. Cuddy had already received a mass of emails requesting further appearances and information about House especially. It was this kind of publicity which made Diagnostics worth all the trouble.
"OK", murmured Cuddy at length, eyes scanning the screen, "and your fellows?".
"Chase definitely got laid, Foreman possibly got laid, and Cameron-".
"-I meant their papers", she interrupted firmly.
"Both were strong. Cameron's, especially, was excellent".
"Both?".
"Beavis and Butt-Head collaborated closer than Quisling with the Nazis. Did you read that biography I mentioned a while back?". House began tossing a baseball from hand to hand.
"I get by on five or six hours a night. D'you really think I have time to read books?".
"Can you read?", he mused.
The Dean looked at him pointedly before moving on. "Right. Good. Now, if you were a normal, responsible department head this would be the point at which I'd ask you to update their personnel files with this information in time for the year-end evaluations of all staff-".
"-you lost me at 'normal'".
"This is one piece of paperwork that needs doing, House. As you well know, since you've filed it the last two years".
"I have?". To be sure, House couldn't remember everything he'd done, but he was fairly confident that he would have avoided form-filling as a point of principle.
"Yep. Your signature and everything. I remember specifically because it was slightly more...flowery than I expected. In any case, I want this done. When your fellows eventually move on, they'll need some sort of official performance record".
"Fine", he sighed.
Cuddy sat back and raised her eyebrows. "Huh. I was expecting you to kick up a fuss like a small child".
"Hey, I can be accommodating and nice too, y'know". House adopted an offended tone.
"OK, sorry for assuming the worst", she replied, somewhat chastened.
"So. The favour?".
"I know I promised you a skip of clinic duty, and you will get it, but I'm gonna need you to help out for now still".
"No way. That wasn't the deal".
"I know. But for some reason the hospital has received an unbelievable number of new patients over the last two months, and we've got something of a backlog. Plus, we're approaching the Christmas run-up...please, House. I really need you and your staff to get me out of a hole. Please?".
"For God's sake. All these requests...", he muttered, thinking back to his meeting with Cameron senior at lunchtime. What had he done to deserve this?
"I know. I'd be eternally grateful to you, though".
"Ugh, fine. But I'm not happy. Seriously".
"Understandable", she noted, smiling. Though she could never claim House to be a straightforwardly kind man, he was, at heart, a decent one beneath the layers of antagonism.
The diagnostician turned abruptly to his computer screen. "I'm gonna watch porn to get over it. So maybe you ought to leave. Or, y'know, strip. Either works".
Cuddy got up and went to the door. "I'll leave. Oh, and House?".
"What?", he asked through gritted teeth. "You gonna piss on my leg and tell me it's raining, now?".
"Remember that departmental gathering at my place Friday!". The words were spoken rapidly, and the administrator jogged out of the office, pretending not to hear her employee's cry of dismay as she fled down the corridor.
Cameron turned the corner and nearly banged into the other woman. "-oh, sorry!".
"No, it was my fault", said Cuddy, stopping to chat to the immunologist, "was caught up in my own little world. How's your patient?".
"Not out of the woods yet. We'll be keeping him under close observation for the next couple of days. Foreman and Chase are briefing the nurses. No doubt because they want to flirt". Once their patient was out of immediate danger, the pair had been almost laughably preoccupied with impressing these women with their medical knowledge. Cameron had kept her amusement in check. Just about.
"Yeah, I've had to draft in a few new ones on temporary contracts. Luckily, Townsend's money allows us to do that. You know how it is this time of year".
"Oh, before I forget, there was an endocrinologist in London, the chair of our panel, actually, who wanted to make contact with you. I have his email saved on my phone. Would you be willing to drop him a line?". Cameron browsed her files and handed over Douglas Ross' information to a smiling Cuddy, and the two discussed the conference for a few minutes. The Dean was surprised to find that House's report had been surprisingly accurate.
"Thanks for keeping an eye on things in London. My overflowing inbox is testament to your success".
"No worries!", replied Cameron, continuing her journey to the office.
"Fair warning", Cuddy called out, "House is in a bad mood. Like, a real grumpy goat. Tread carefully!".
The brunette acknowledged this with a wave over her shoulder. The man had been monosyllabic most of the afternoon anyway. She put it down to tiredness and the events of the last few days, not to mention dinner with her parents, catching up to him. The fact was that it had been a pretty packed week or so, and, as House liked to point out frequently, he could be decidedly cranky when sleep-deprived. Instead of entering his office immediately, she walked past, towards the vending machines, from which she bought a pair of Hershey bars. Then, she slotted a few coins into the neighbouring coffee dispenser and selected a large Caffè mocha.
Cameron stuck the bars in the pockets of her white coat and, now appropriately armed, knocked on his door. At his hand swish, she entered. "What're you watching?".
House unplugged the earphones from the speakers and overly enthusiastic groans of delight filled the room. "Nikelodeon", he replied. "Yeah, their programming has become…slightly more risqué".
"Uhuh".
The diagnostician paused the video and got up. "I assume Parr lives?".
"Yeah. Observation time", she replied, hiding her surprise that House knew the guy's name.
House nodded and began to pace the room distractedly, flicking the cricket ball from hand to hand. "Good, good…". Cameron could tell he was about to continue speaking so remained quiet. "Yeah, that was a good deduction on my part. Haematoma, yes, but no recent head trauma. Very rare. Chase manage the surgery OK?".
"Yep", she replied, content to let House roam, mentally and physically.
"A decent surgeon. For an Australian, anyway. Good, good", he repeated before shaking his head. "Without me, Parr'd be dead. And she wants me in the clinic. Silly woman. Diluting assets".
Cameron stepped into the office proper and sipped her mocha.
House loped over and took the drink without so much as a word. A few swallows later, he carried on his stream of consciousness, now gazing at his personal whiteboard which contained doodlings pertaining to the case. "I'm wasted in the clinic. People are morons…there is no fucking cure for a cold. This", he poked the whiteboard with a finger, still holding the ball and coffee, "is what I do, y'know?".
"Mmm".
"And then there's the promise…". Now he wandered over to the window. "…I was promised time off. Deals are deals. Dishonourable…to break faith like that. Everybody lies, y'know?".
"Yes, I know".
House took another sip of coffee, as if noticing it for the first time. "This is nice. Did you make it?".
"No".
"I mean, clinic stuff…it's not a big deal. But it's the principle of the thing…sometimes I think people are too demanding. They should just butt out. It's…not right to make requests, sometimes. Know what I mean?".
"I do", replied Cameron, taking out a chocolate bar, tearing open the wrapper, and biting into it.
"You probably think I'm a grumpy fucker".
The immunologist shrugged.
"I am a grumpy fucker. But I have rules…like, everything can be rationalised. So maybe, if a request is rational, it's worth considering on its face…". House paced over to Cameron and plucked the chocolate bar from her fingers, settling on the desk corner as he chomped into it. Within ten seconds it was completely gone. "But I don't want to do it. I'm my own man, y'know?".
"You are. That's one of the things I love about you".
The ghost of a smile appeared on the nephrologist's lips even as he finished chewing, but he soon got back to talking. "But then again, love is irrational, isn't it? And what happens when rational requests collide with the irrational? That's a question".
"Then you must decide between them. As you know. But Cuddy wouldn't have broken her promise without good reason".
House had been looking to the floor, but at the other's words he glanced up sharply and his eyes focused. "Cuddy? Yes…Cuddy. And then there's this fucking departmental party thing on Friday. Why is she making me go to that? I hate socialising".
"Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do".
"Even if it causes me, or someone else, pain?".
"Yes, even then", she nodded, slightly confused as to why a party would cause anyone pain. But House was in one of those introspective moods, and it was best to go with the flow.
"You are unlike your parents", House said suddenly.
"How do you mean?", she asked, surprised at this abrupt switch in topic.
"They seem old-fashioned. Settled. Ordinary. I don't think you are".
Cameron went over to sit in the chair opposite the desk, looking up at her boss who was still perched on its corner. "I'm old-fashioned in some things, like them".
"Example?".
"Well, and this is just off the top of my head, I…would like a family at some point in the future. Probably". As she spoke, she studiously avoided eye contact.
"Hmm". Though she had no way of knowing, these words caused House's mind to flit once more back to the conversation with her father earlier today, something which had been on his mind all afternoon. "Well-", he started.
"-no, I don't want you to say anything more on this. Go back to your stream of consciousness". The immunologist wished to return to safer terrain. Above all, she feared the effect of her parents' talking points on House. Though he had withstood them manfully at dinner, she knew him well enough to suspect their real impact on his thought process. Such reflections, hypothesising a Housian reaction, were never useful. That way, at least for her, madness lay.
"I was just going to ask if you still wanted to go with me to this gathering of morons on Friday".
"Of course I do". As it happened, Cameron had her own plans, a while in the making, for that evening.
House's preoccupation seemingly dissipated and he smiled lopsidedly. "I'm rambling, aren't I?".
"House, are you OK? I'm sorry my parents ambushed us at my place-". Cameron got the slightly disconcerting impression that they had been speaking at crosswords.
"-it's not that. I'm just tired. Have you spoken to them today?".
"Only a text saying they landed safely".
"Good, good. Your parents love you", he added, almost to himself.
"As yours do you".
"Not in the same way".
"There's no right or wrong way. There just 'is'".
House grunted at this and the two lapsed into silence, the gentle hubbub of evening at PPTH filtering through the glass. "I'm hungry", he murmured eventually, and Cameron wordlessly handed over the second chocolate bar from her pocket. "I like chocolate bars".
"Yes, I know".
"They really help get the juices flowing".
"That's because you think with your stomach. Like a cat". The brunette reached across from her position and prodded his belly which, as ever, was deliciously firm.
"I think with another appendage, too", he smirked.
"True enough".
"This has been useful", he managed between bites.
"Good. Though I'd say it was a pretty one-sided, and slightly cryptic, conversation".
"The best kind. Besides, the less women talk, the better: they're stupid".
"You're such a dinosaur", she snorted back, as Chase and Foreman walked into the adjoining office talking animatedly.
"At least I'm not a girl. By the way, the annual evaluations…?".
Cameron grinned at this and reached out to pat his knee. "Oh, I've been writing those things since I started here. I think I've got it down to a fine art; the same with your signature. Cuddy had no idea?".
"Nope. Completely oblivious. Though she thought my signature 'flowery'".
"Y'know", she mused, "maybe women are stupid…".
House laughed and broke off the last two squares of chocolate, handing one over as both chewed thoughtfully.