Happy Thursday, readers! This is kind of a shorter, transitional installment... the next one will be longer. I would like to send shout-outs to my lovely reviewers who have left kind words since last week: JCLH, IHeartHouseCuddy, lenasti16, OldSFan, HuddyGirl, Alex, linda12344, and the Guests! Your support is so very much appreciated! (And stay tuned for a few A/N's at the end of the chapter if you want to help me out with something.)

By the end of that week, House had diagnosed Dr. Brock Sterling, or Evan Greer as he was known outside of Prescription, Passion, with an allergy to Tonic water and sent him back to an artificially bountiful life of Soap acting. Since that left him and his team case-less for the weekend, he had decided that it would be a great opportunity to hold his first round of Band-AIDS auditions.

Rather than disrupt traffic in Cuddy's office again and risk her very tentative agreement to take an active role in the group, House announced via email that everyone should meet at Wilson and Amber's apartment on Saturday night at 8:00 to begin singing auditions. The pair was more than a little irked upon reading the message, since House had failed to ask if they minded him using their place.

"Well, I could hardly have everyone showing up at my door, could I?" he had demanded of a very annoyed Wilson over lunch that Friday in the hospital cafeteria.

"I don't see why not, it's not like most of them don't already know where you live. Most of them have been there at one time or another," House was reminded by his friend.

"Yeah, but if I invite them over once, they might think they can make a habit out of it. Cuddy and Cameron already assume that it's part of their job to barge in unannounced to 'check on me' periodically, and by default you basically have an all-access pass. The last thing I need is Foreman suddenly wanting to stop over for a beer or Kutner asking to catch a baseball game on my awesome flat screen."

"First of all, I can't see Foreman ever stopping in for a beer just for the hell of it. And how do you know Kutner even likes baseball?"

"He tries to make small talk with me about the Philly's once in a while. If I'm in an unusually benevolent mood… occasionally I humor him."

"Conversations with your team that might possibly be construed as personal? Is there a hidden camera in here?"

"You're adorable," the more sarcastic doctor deadpanned. "Besides, your place has more room than mine anyway." Wilson just rolled his eyes and took another bite of his Panini.

"Yeah, yada yada, whatever. I don't want people at my apartment. You win," House conceded, typically stealing some potato chips off of his best friend's plate.

As they were eating, House noticed Taub walk into the room and scan it. Seeing his boss, the future band's newly appointed manager walked over to the table and started to speak, but House beat him to it.

"If you're here because we might have a patient, or Cuddy's looking for me, turn around and pretend you didn't see me."

"No, this is actually about the band."

"No matter how much you beg, we are not adding an oboe," retorted House condescendingly.

"I'm not here about instruments. All this paper work you wanted me to fill out to enter the competition… did you read any of it?" Taub asked.

"Of course not. That's why I hired a band manager… so I don't have to readthe paper work."

"But there are some things here in the fine print that I think you may want to take a look at before you decide if you really want to…"

But House quickly interrupted, "If you can't handle filling out some first grade level, cut-and-dry form, I'll have you demoted down to the ER and I'll bring Cameron back on my team. She always was the best at that administrative assistant-y stuff… not to mention much easier on my eyes."

"But there's this stipulation about volunteering…" Taub started to explain, but his boss broke in again.

"Just fill out the online application and get the thing sent in. We'll hash out the particulars later. I did read enough in the magazine to know that the entrance deadline is just over a week from now, and I know that you don't want to be responsible for the limited ten spaces already being filled because you were dragging your feet." Unlike his irascible friend, Wilson paid enough attention to Taub's observations to realize that House's impatience for the necessary function of a paper trail in his daily life could be problematic in this instance.

"Let me see that," the oncologist said, grabbing the hard copy out of Taub's hand. After skimming it briefly, his eyes grew wide and he addressed his friend, "House, you really do need to read this. If I'm understanding this right, everyone in the band has to put in a certain number of volunteer hours with underprivileged youth in order to participate in the competition. 'No exceptions.' " Wilson pointed to the bold letters toward the bottom of the sheet. Snatching it out of his hand, House finally saw it for himself. He frowned, quietly thinking for a moment.

"Fill out whatever you need to fill out, say 'yes' to whatever they want us to say 'yes' to, and make sure it's sent electronically by the time you leave today."

"But…"

"Do it.

"Ok… but when you actually have to follow through on this down the line, don't say I didn't warn you. And I have a witness," Taub added, indicating Wilson.

"Fine. Am-scray. We're trying to eat here."

The shorter doctor gladly hustled out of the cafeteria doors and away from his cranky supervisor to complete his assignment.

"Are you sure you know what you're getting into with this? I know you definitely don't have any intention of doing volunteer hours… and how do you know you can get everyone else to do theirs?" Wilson questioned, aggravated. "And even if they're willing, how will they fit it into their schedules?"

House appeared to be deep in thought, genuinely perplexed by the new obstacle for his potential music group. Finally, he mused, "I always find a way to be the exception for the 'no exceptions' provision. That expression just begs for an opportunistic guy like me to come along sniffing for loopholes."

"And how often are your loophole-sniffing expeditions not enabled by Cuddy in some way? She isn't running this. Like it or not, House, you may actually have to play by the rules like everyone else this time." His friend shot him a look, and Wilson decided that it was time, at least temporarily, to drop the subject. "So, um… back to Saturday… we won't be staying too long at our place, right? You said that's where everyone would be coming to meet up before the audition."

"Don't get your boxer-briefs in a twist. We won't be there long enough for anyone to get loaded and puke on your carpet and freak out your terrifying girlfriend. There thankfully won't be any carpet where we're going by the time people get to the puking stage."

"A bar?" Wilson asked suspiciously.

Pointing at him and smiling patronizingly, House mused, "You're quick… that's why they pay you the big bucks, isn't it?"

"How are you going to have singing auditions at a bar?"

"I take back what I said. You're an idiot… and Cuddy should take back your salary for that level of idiocracy."

The oncologist thought for a moment. "Oooohhh," he finally drew out comprehendingly. "I do feel like an idiot. No better combination for public humiliation and singing auditions than karaoke!"

Smiling slightly but legitimately, House overdramatically parroted, "Karaoke!"

A/N: Ok, so a couple of things. 1) A few people have wondered about so many members of House's inner circle being musically inclined. I know the way I'm approaching this may seem a bit too coincidental, but there is actually some method to my madness in this case. A great big heart-shaped Huddy cookie goes to the peeps that figure out what I'm doing :-D 2) I would like some feedback for how I will approach some upcoming facets of the story, which I would either welcome in reviews or PM's. I keep going back and forth between keeping all of the music that I will mention in real time for this story, which would mean 2008 or before, or including more modern selections, as well. In order for my head-cannon to make sense, this story does take place in 2008, but how do people feel about using more current songs, but pretending that they were just out then? I honestly can't make up my mind. It doesn't bother me when I read it in other people's stories, but I'm vacillating ridiculously when it comes to my own. Opinions? Ideas? Thanks!