8:44:15 a.m., Dr. Cuddy's Office, Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital

Cuddy was sitting facing the windows when House thumped through the door without knocking and ambled across the office to flop into a chair in front of Cuddy's desk. "Yes, mistress I am here as ordered." He looked a little frayed around the edges, and the Intimidator wrap around dark glasses were a silent witness to the condition of his eyes. On top of the lack of sleep, the champagne hangover was killing him.

"How may I serve you?"

Lisa Cuddy always made it a point to look good. In fact, if she didn't look fabulous at any time she was pissed. This time was the exception. When she slowly spun her chair around she looked like five miles of bad road. Bloodshot, tired eyes were framed by her hair that was pulled back into a messy pony tail. A lack of makeup and Princeton tennis warm up suit completed her very casual attire.

"House, it must be a wonderful feeling to know exactly what you are worth to this hospital. You are obviously worth one hundred million fucking dollars. One hundred million! That's what we pissed away last night when Vogler had his spiteful fit. After he had his rant the university representative on the board said she had seen enough and moved to not accept Vogler's money based on the strings he obviously had attached. The motion passed by three votes.

Cuddy's voice got stronger and moved up a couple of octaves as she plowed into House.

"Last night should never have happened. Never. Vogler may have ultimately wanted to run this hospital like a Nazi. His interest may have been more in making money than healing. He may have been an egotistical son of a bitch, but, House, it was one hundred million fucking dollars!

"You probably don't believe this, but I could have handled Vogler one-on-one. He couldn't be managed with you always pushing his buttons because he was unpredictable…just like you are.

"All you had to do was stay out of the way; work your magic in diagnostics, and not actively to antagonize the bastard. That was just too much to ask wasn't it? You couldn't help yourself, so you just kept poking, prodding, and picking until it came to a showdown.

"Then it was Wilson, calm, reasonable, rational Wilson, who rose up and became House reincarnate at the board meeting. He pushed Vogler around the room on ethics, long term health care objectives, the hospital's future, and a ton of other shit until Vogler just freaking blew up like Krakatoa. That was the last straw for Dr. Moncreif, and she pulled the plug."

By now Cuddy's diatribe had started to stop traffic in the hallway.

House tried to jump into the Cuddy's monologue. He didn't get far. "Greg, sit down and shut up. I'll let you know when I'm through yelling at you.

"I know money doesn't mean anything to you. Hell, you don't even have a frame of reference. The interest alone on your inheritance has got to be worth a couple of hundred grand a year, and I don't even want to think about what you pull in from the other crap you are involved with. And the cherry on top of the whipped cream, on top of the hot fudge, on top of the damn ice cream is the two hundred large a year you draw here.

"Yeah, I know it's just money, but Vogler's gift could have been real money that we need for facilities, people, research, and all kinds of stuff. But, you couldn't get past the fact that Vogler was a horse's ass. When it became a contest of wills there was probably no doubt that you would win even it was the biggest Pyrrhic Victory in medical history." With that Cuddy was spent and flopped back into her chair staring through House.

Still a little rocked back on his heels by the assault House without thinking shrugged slightly, and that got Cuddy rolling again.

"Okay wise ass, here's what's going to happen now: You are responsible for coming up with the $10 million a year for the next 10 years, and I don't give a rat's ass how you do it…as long as it doesn't land all of us in jail. Use all of that natural intellect and cunning and raise the damn money. In fact, just to make it even more worthwhile to you personally when your fund raising reaches $10 million in any given year you're off clinic duty for the balance of that year.

"Now, get out and let me think!"

Author's note – Okay gang, I've got some ideas on how House will raise the money, but I'm really interested in how you think House can meet his goal and escape the slings and arrows of clinic duty.

CL