Disclaimer: No, I don't own House. Nothing's changed there.

A/N: This is the second to the last chapter, and it's a little longer than the others. I probably won't be able to post the last chapter for a couple of days. Real life is getting in the way. Thanks, though, for sticking with this, and thank you so much for the kind and enthusiastic reviews.

OOOO

Over two hours after Donald O'Bryan's ill-timed appearance in the Diagnostic Department's conference room, he was finally gone. In his wake he had left a mess. There were charts – some of them torn into tiny pieces – with department facts and figures littering the table top along with splashes of coffee and sugar granules. The white board was covered with indecipherable doctor and billionaire scratchings. The window was wide open because it had gotten rather hot in there and the breeze was not helping to straighten things any.

The real mess, though, was to be found in Dr. House's office next door. Not that the battle had carried on to that location, but the three doctors who had been involved in the fray had collapsed in lumps around the room. The sight was really very pathetic. Thankfully, one of them had thought to close the blinds so that no one could see them post-defeat.

"That was awful." It didn't matter which one said it. It had been awful. O'Bryan had proven to be just as much a prick as House had told Cameron, and in the tradition of people who like to mess with others just for fun, he had enjoyed seeing the three doctors squirm. Actually, by the end of the "meeting" they hadn't been squirming so much as twitching. It had become very apparent that O'Bryan knew everything about the department already, but he still poked and prodded and generally pissed the three other men off. All three of the doctors, well, especially the two younger ones, were contemplating the possibility of karma. They just didn't have the energy to say anything.

Foreman was the first to ask, "What are we going to do?" He was laying across the upholstered chair across from House's desk. He was massaging his temples and trying to ward off what he was pretty sure was the first migraine he had had since his internship. "There is no way he is going to give the hospital money."

"He hated us," agreed Chase. "God, he walked in hating us. Didn't even give us a chance." He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the glass wall with the trashed conference room at his back. He had removed his (ugly) tie and lab coat. They were lying somewhere on one of the bookshelves, but he hadn't really paid attention to where he had tossed them.

House was quietly inspecting his cane, which had an gouge in the wood that hadn't been there two hours earlier. He was fairly certain he had whacked it against something at one point but really couldn't remember when. He sighed and leaned back in his chair as he waited for the extra Vicodin to kick in. When exactly, he mused, did an addict's drug of choice reach the "extra" stage?

"What do we do?" Foreman repeated.

House sighed again, very loudly, and dropped his head to his desk. "We call in the big guns," he grumbled.

OOOO

Allison Cameron had no idea what kind of carnage was being created in her department when she left the clinic for lunch at 11:15. All she knew was that if she had to deal with one more stupid male doing stupid things to his stupid body, she was going to look into becoming Catholic and joining a convent. One with no stupid priests.

After Paperclip Boy had been dragged away by his mother, Allison had seen a man with a really bad rash in a place that made it obvious that he had not been practicing abstinence when he contracted it. Then came the seventh grader who had been clothes-lined by some of his buddies and ended up with a lump on the back of his head. He and his friends had thought that was funny; his mother and the female principal had not agreed. Next came the guy who had tried to make up with his wife after a fight by cleaning the kitchen. When his wife came home with groceries, she found him sitting in the middle of the tile floor complaining of dizziness. Turns out he had mixed ammonia and bleach in order to clean said floor. His wife did not find his attempts at reconciliation very bright, to say the least. Where did these men come from?

Allison's mood had not been improved by all this considering that she had gotten no sleep the night before. Even now, as looked at the abysmal selection in the cafeteria, she still wondered what she was going to do. She couldn't for the life of her figure out what House was up to, but she knew she still had to figure out a way to beat him.

After ordering a grilled reuben with extra pickles, Allison turned to find a seat and saw the answer to her prayers instead.

A familiar female face was sitting at a table by herself in the corner, an extra chair across from her just calling out to Cameron. Allison, the former cheerleader, had to tamp down the urge to do a standing backflip for joy. She took a deep breath and walked across the room.

She gently set her tray down on the table as the woman looked up with well-bred surprise. Allison held out her hand and introduced herself. "Mrs. O'Bryan? I'm Dr. Allison Cameron, a member of the Diagnostics Department. May I join you?"

Catherine O'Bryan nodded and introduced herself properly. "I'm just waiting for my husband. He's in a meeting with …" She stopped and looked at Allison with a question on her face.

"With my department. Yes, I know." She opened her water as she quickly thought out her next move. "I thought, though, that it would be a good idea if one of us spoke to you as well. It seems to me, if I may be blunt, Mrs. O'Bryan, you have quite a bit to do with your husband charities."

Mrs. O'Bryan, who had more than quite a bit to do with her husband's charities, replied, "Yes, but if I may be blunt Dr. Cameron, shouldn't you be upstairs with your department?"

Thank God Allison had just taken a bite of the disgusting sandwich (what the hell had she ordered?) because she needed the time to come up with a good answer for that one. She smiled. "Yes, normally I would be, but all of the hospital's doctors also work in the clinic, as I'm sure you know. I had hours to fulfill before our meeting with your husband, and my patients turned out to be more challenging than normal." She took another bit and got a mouthful of sauerkraut. She gritted her teeth to keep from shivering. How could he even eat these things cold?

"So why aren't you running up to join in the meeting?"

Allison smiled knowingly. "Quite frankly, Mrs. O'Bryan, I was not in the mood to deal with four men battling over patient loads, billing hours, and departmental goals. I saw you here and thought that I might be more use to my department by speaking to you." Catherine raised a single eyebrow, and Allison realized that may have come off too brazen, so she quickly pressed on. "The press portrays you as the face of your husband's charitable efforts. I would venture to guess that you're the brains behind them, too."

"If I were 'the brains' as you put it, why wouldn't I be upstairs in the meeting with my husband and your colleagues instead of sitting here in the cafeteria?"

"Well, I seriously doubt that my colleagues are telling your husband anything that he didn't already know. He hasn't become as successful as he is without knowing whom he is going up against." Allison saw a ghost of smile on the older woman's face. She couldn't tell what kind of smile it was, though, so she fought down the urge to run very quickly away and continued, "As for the cafeteria, you are sitting here in this back corner so that you can watch the comings and goings of the staff and patients aren't you?"

"Why would I want to do that?" Talking to this young lady was a lot more fun that the brunch she had been forced to go to with the board members. Being the behind-the-scenes brains of her husband's charitable giving foundation was deadly boring sometimes.

"What better place to judge the atmosphere and attitudes of the hospital? Here you can see the staff's interaction and the patients' and their families' comfort levels." Allison paused. "Have you been for a walk in the courtyard yet? Not only can you observe the staff and patients, but the Physical Therapy department frequently uses it for exercises and medical students use it for a place to study as well."

"No, I don't believe that was a part of the tour." Catherine lied. She was fully smiling now. "Why don't you take me out there and we can continue our chat." She stood and pushed in her chair.

Allison rose more slowly as she held her breath to keep from laughing out loud. She was going to put really big loops on House's Gs when she signed him up for clinic hours.

OOOO

James Wilson walked into House's office to see how things had gone. The sight that met him was a little scary. Chase and Foreman looked like they had just lost the state championship in the last two seconds of the game and House was staring at the phone on his desk.

"I take it things didn't go well?" On one hand he wanted to yell at House for screwing this up, on the other hand, Cameron hadn't had her chance yet. That little bit of hope had Wilson going to the conference room to drag another chair in. He wanted first row seats for this.

"Conference room looks bad. Didn't go well, huh?" He repeated.

His best friend looked up at him from his meditation on the phone. "Why would you think that?"

"Told her yet?"

"Do you see her yet?"

"Nope. Thought maybe she was on her way."

"I need to page her."

"So…?"

"Don't you have dying patients or tumors to poke or something?" House went back to looking at the phone.

"You know that phone won't page her all by itself."

Foreman finally showed signs of life. "Can I assume you're talking about Cameron?"

"Got it one. No wonder you're a doctor." House's hand slowly moved toward the phone.

"I don't know what you did, but just page her for God's sake. Having her here can't be as bad as it is right now."

"Shows how much you know. Maybe you shouldn't be a doctor." House snatched up the phone and stabbed the buttons with his finger. "Anyone want to time her?"

Wilson laughed. "I bet she makes you page her twice."

House glared. This was going to be ugly.

OOOO

Allison Cameron made her boss page her three times before she made her way to his office. If he had managed to charm Mr. O'Bryan, she didn't want to come running so he could, well, be himself. If he hadn't been successful, she wanted him to sweat.

Besides, she was having a lovely time talking to Catherine O'Bryan. She was an intelligent woman who asked all the right questions. Not only had Allison managed to discuss her own department with her, she had also slipped in her concerns about the needs that the neonatal intensive care unit had. Nothing like besting your boss and throwing in a few thoughts about your pet cause as well.

When she got to the hallway leading to House's office, she stopped, straightened her lab coat, checked her hair in a window, and reapplied her lipstick. Prom queens knew how to make an entrance, even more so than billionaires.

She strode in the door and took in the four men sitting there. Things had not gone well apparently. But she asked anyway. Had to do that.

"How does it look like things went? Can't you see the champagne and the streamers. Quiet Riot should be here at any moment to kick off the celebration."

Oh, he was pissed and she was loving it. She tried really hard to remember the importance of what was going on, but damned if that wasn't next to impossible. Let the fun commence.

"So, why did you page me?" Wilson snorted and Cameron glanced at him. House must have told him what was going on. Good, someone else to rub it in.

"Pardon me?" House turned his chair towards her.

"Why did you page me?"

"You know why."

"No, I really don't. I was enjoying a nice leisurely stroll when you paged me."

"Three times I paged you."

"Was it only three? Gosh, I was going to hold out for four."

Chase and Foreman had sat up a little straighter and glanced at each other. Each of them seemed to be asking the other what the hell was going on, but neither of them wanted to get mixed up in it. House and Cameron had their own way of communicating that bordered on disturbed. They silently agreed to stay out of it.

Wilson, however, was watching with sick interest. "Anyone have any popcorn?"

"Shut up." House stood up and came around to the front of his desk. "You're not seriously going to make me tell you why I paged you."

"Oh, I seriously am. I'm just glad that these guys are here already because I was going to page them myself if they weren't."

They glared at each other.

House clutched the handle of his cane in his fists. He looked down and then back up at her. Very slowly, but clearly (he didn't want to have to repeat himself), "We were not successful with Mr. O'Bryan. We will need you to find an opportunity to speak with him."

"Why?"

Wilson chuckled. "Crawl, crawl, crawl."

"Because you may be able to get through to him where we could not." He was speaking through his clenched teeth and was about two seconds from hitting something with the cane – preferably Wilson, who was not content to sit there quietly. Luckily for Frick and Frack they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut.

Allison considered telling him about her chat with Mrs. O'Bryan, but thought she would save that little tidbit for later. "Sooo, you need me to turn on the prom queen charm."

"Yes."

"Well, now." She paused. "I supposed I could do that." Her voice became very businesslike and she began walking around the office. She looked into the conference room and shook her head. She pulled Chase's lab coat and tie from a stack of books and handed it to him. Then she walked right up to House, who had not released his death grip on the cane. "I suppose I could do that at the charity gala tomorrow night."

He snarled.

"Of course I will need the day off tomorrow." If the look on his face was any indication, she would be the cane's next target. She crossed her arms in the universal symbol for "I'm not giving an inch on this."

"Why the hell would you need tomorrow off?"

"Why, Dr. House, it takes effort to be a prom queen. It takes effort, time, and money."

"I'm not giving you any money."

"I didn't ask for money, I asked for the day off."

"Fine."

"Good."

Lisa Cuddy chose that moment to walk in. Luckily, the men in the room looked a little more alive than they had earlier. "So how did it go?"

Everyone was quiet. Then Cameron stepped in. "I'm not going to lie. It's still going. I'm going to talk to Mr. O'Bryan on my own tomorrow night at the gala. I think I'll be more successful in a different atmosphere."

"You mean you'll probably be more successful without Mr. Personality here butting in." Cuddy nodded. "Well, I would prefer this to be over now, but if you're sure you want to try that go ahead. Can't hurt to turn on some charm, but don't screw this up." She nodded again and walked out.

"Smooth," admired Wilson.

"Yeah, well, I could get in as much trouble as he could you know." Allison pointed at her boss. Figuring that she had gloated enough for the moment, she decided to finish him off tomorrow night. She started to walk out the door, then stopped and turned back around. "By the way, I'm scheduled for eight every morning next week in the clinic. I'll just stop down and put your name in for mine before I leave." She walked out.

Chase and Foreman suddenly found the energy to hop up and beat it out of there, too. They still didn't understand what they had just seen, but they really wanted to stay in the dark.

Wilson stayed in his seat. He looked at House, whose chin had dropped to his chest and whose eyes were closed.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Sand fleas and jellyfish." Damn tropical island.