Happy Saturday, friends and Huddies! I don't have a lot of time since I'm posting on the run right now, but I may come back and add an A/N at the bottom later tonight. I'm sorry I'm not getting these updates out faster, but sick children have a way of sucking all the free time out of your day. Well, that and work.
Anywho... shout-outs for reviewers since the last update: IHeartHouseCuddy, lin12344, OldSFan, JM, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex, and Squibs!
As always, reviews = 3 :-D
Chapter 7- Soul Train
Even though upon returning from the bar Forman seemed intent on yammering his complaints on their upcoming performance to Chase, the latter all but tuned him out as he watched his girlfriend continue to share such an easy interaction with Kutner. But before he could really assess his thoughts on the matter one way or another, a familiar face caught his attention near the entrance. It looked like Thirteen had finally been relieved from clinic duty and had found her way to Beasley's. Chase caught her eye and gave her a friendly wave, which she reciprocated as she walked over to the table. Thirteen hardly could have anticipated the sight of the divisively annoyed and exuberant group that she encountered upon joining them.
"Hey!" she greeted Chase, her mood pleasant due to the recent reprieve from the clinic. Turning her head to take in the scene of interactions of the colleagues before her, Thirteen asked him, indicating the currently chatty group of Journey singers, "So what's the deal with all this? Seems early for them to be that drunk."
"Well, everyone's been helping themselves to the alcohol… especially the women… but you literally just missed my girlfriend, Wilson, Cuddy and Kutner upstage this guy doing 'Don't Stop Believin'."
"Oh God, not that one… most overdone song at karaoke ever."
"You definitely sat down at the right table, then… that's the general consensus of everyone sitting over here," added Foreman.
"Hey look, Thirteen's here!" Kutner noticed, returning from his own brief excursion to the bar. He handed a scotch each to House and Wilson, the latter raising his in welcome to Thirteen and the former giving a friendly-ish nod of the head. She responded with a smile of her own. Coming over to her in person, Kutner said, "Glad you made it! Want me to grab you a drink so you can catch up?"
"Um, sure, I guess I'll have…" Thirteen began, but she was interrupted when one of the prettier waitresses actually approached the table.
"Hi there, can I get you anything?" she asked sweetly.
"Hi," the newly arrived doctor grinned her approval. "I'll have a tequila sunrise."
"I'll be right back with that," the waitress practically purred.
"We've been here for over an hour, and we only managed to flag down a waitress once. You walk in, and seconds later you've got table-side service. How does that even figure?" Forman wondered aloud.
"Easy," shouted House from the adjoining table over the thumping Kylie Minogue song. "You can explain almost everything in life with baseball. That waitress likes to catch, but she isn't looking for someone with their own bat."
"She wasn't tripping over herself for the three of us, so how would you even know?" Amber questioned skeptically, signifying Cuddy and Cameron with her eyes.
"A person who prefers bat-less catching also has specially attuned radar for other individuals who favor bat-less catching. Or… possibly switch-hitting. Namely her," he pointed with his cane at his only current female fellow, none too subtly. Thirteen looked slightly taken aback at the bold assertion of her boss. Although she had futilely tried to maintain the "personal" in her personal life in her eight months working under him, she had learned that he would always find a way to yank her secrets into the light of day. The waitress walked back to the table before anyone else could comment and placed Thirteen's drink in front of her with a subtle brush of the fingers.
"I'm Candice if you need anything, by the way," the blond informed her with a bat of the eyes for effect.
"Remy," Thirteen offered a little shyly, her eyes bright with curiosity.
"And I'm Robert," Chase interjected lamely, utilizing his classically disarming smile.
"Nice to meet you, Remy," Candice replied, and then surprisingly directed a wink and a smirk at Chase. "Robert."
With the majority of those at both tables now paying close attention to the exchange, many sets of eyebrows raised in response. Cameron's, on the other hand, took on a furrowed shape and threatened certain reprimand for her boyfriend at the end of the evening. Besides Thirteen and possibly Chase, the reaction evoking the largest response was House's.
"Cool," House drawled out approvingly. "Looks like I may have spoken to soon… Candi appears to be a switch-hitter herself. Or, wait… switch-catcher? Would that be more apt?" he pondered with exaggeration, tapping his stubbled chin and looking toward the ceiling. "Regardless… HOT!" The lecherous doctor elbowed Wilson for effect and took a large swig of his scotch.
Luckily for both House and Chase and the prospect of being beaten to a bloody pulp by all of the women in their group who were not Thirteen, the D.J. picked that precise moment to announce the next karaoke participants.
"And up next, we have what looks like quite the accomplished medical trio… Drs. Chase, Forman, and House!"
"Why is my name last? I'm supposed to be the head honcho of this outfit," the diagnostician complained.
"I don't remember what order I gave him... you didn't tell me anything specific about that. Do it yourself next time," Chase retorted, getting off the tall chair and rolling up his shirt sleeves.
"You're just pissy because your girlfriend's pissy with you for trying to get yourself in the middle of a threesome that doesn't include her."
"I was not…"
"Let's just get up there and get this over with, alright?" interrupted Forman as they neared the stage.
"You guys remember what I told you?" House asked. Both nodded their assent
"You sure you don't want to sing lead, though? It's 'your band,' as you so frequently keep reminding us," the blond doctor remarked pointedly.
"It is my band, but I don't stake any claim on outstanding vocal studliness. You have the pretty, boy-band looks and voice we need to entice in the ladies. The brooding cripple thing is good for a gimmick, but it doesn't make for a regular crowd draw," House rationalized plainly, pointing toward the mic sitting slightly stage right for Chase to use. He and Forman remained sharing the second mic, and Chase nodded at the D.J. to let him know they were ready to go.
The overly-enthusiastic host began, "And here we go with another old favorite, sure to be a hit coming from these distinguished gentlemen… "Midnight Train to Georgia!"
Cuddy laughed audibly at House's choice from their table in the audience. Although he had acquiesced without complaint to very few stereotypical requests for "bar songs" during their days of gigging, he had never seemed to mind that one, oddly enough. At times, she had wondered if he even liked it a little; the current and amusing scene before her seemed to confirm the dean's long-held suspicion.
"This should be very enlightening!" Amber quipped snidely, pulling her digital camera out of her purse and setting it to record.
"If he sees you, you're probably dead, just so you know," Wilson warned his scheming girlfriend as they heard the first strains of the backing track emerge from the large speakers.
"How's he going to see me all the way back here with those colored lights in his eyes?" she questioned.
"You know House… he's worse than a teacher. Eyes in the back of his head, probably in his knees and hidden cameras in his shoes, for all we know. You should probably listen to Wilson on this one… he's known him the longest."
"Actually, Cuddy…" Wilson began, but Amber interrupted him before the brunette had a chance.
"Shhh, they're starting, I want to get this from the beginning!" Amber hissed at the group.
Although others in their group seemed to be, Cuddy certainly wasn't shocked to see that House had stepped aside for Chase to sing the lead vocals. When they had performed the song in the past, she was normally the one to take Gladys Knight's part. While House's voice was competent and pleasant in its own right, his quite solidly baritone range put many of the song's higher notes beyond a comfortable reach without stepping into his falsetto. So, with Chase and his Aussie charm initially claiming the spotlight, Forman and his boss relegated themselves to the importantly supportive role of the Pips. The harmony flowed with ease between these three men who had worked together for so long, but before that night, had never sung together.
As the song progressed, the energy between the trio increased in its palpability. The pseudo-Pips launched themselves into a surprisingly humorous background routine during the second verse that included overdramatic hand gestures for a number of lyrics, and even the use of House's cane to imitate the movement of the train itself during the refrain. While the majority of the audience may have assumed that they had worked out their shtick beforehand, the men really hadn't nailed down any specifics during the perfunctory conversation that House had steamrolled them into earlier in the evening. The only solidly decided factors were that Chase would sing lead and that Foreman and House would take high and low harmony, respectively.
Wilson and Kutner, both feeling a little left out of the energetic tableau on stage, had remained behind at their designated tables with the slack-jawed Amber, who couldn't seem to wrap her mind around the fact that the three doctors were executing such a musically solid and entertaining performance. The original plan to use her video for House's public humiliation steadily dwindled amidst its obvious success.
By the last few iterations of the chorus, Cameron, Thirteen and Cuddy made their way down to some now vacant space near the front of the stage and danced laughingly along with the performance of their coworkers. While Cuddy tried to simply have fun in the here and now and enjoy the act as a whole, she couldn't help the inevitable pull of her gaze toward House as he sang. Thirteen and Cameron didn't seem to know the words beyond bits and pieces of the chorus, but having performed the song many times herself, the dean of medicine knew all of them.
"I'd rather live in his world, than without him in mine," she sang quietly along with Chase, but then switched to the background vocals shared by House and Forman.
Her gray eyes finally locked with House's blue ones for just a few moments as they both sang, "World, world, world, his and hers alone," each of them remembering all of the times they had done so standing on the same stage. The variance in this exchange had its own magic, however, with Cuddy glancing up at him with a small, unintentionally dreamy smile that spoke volumes of a shared history. House returned their secretive ocular handshake with a slight upturn of his lips that would have been lost on anyone but her.
As Chase finally drew out the last few lines of the song for effect, Forman and House followed suit. Their act drew to a close to thunderous applause from the patrons of Beasley's, the commotion instantly breaking the cloudy spell that had compulsorily woven itself between the two former lovers. Cuddy quickly snapped back to her position of unofficial groupie with the other two female doctors, all three cheering their hearty approval from directly in front of the stage. In spite of feeling like they had been excluded to an extent, an impressed Kutner and Wilson clapped heartily along with the audience from their spot in the back. Amber, on the other hand, pouted petulantly, causing Wilson to chuckle quietly to himself.
Although the ovation hadn't quite ended, the D.J. still ushered the guys off the stage with, "And let's hear it one more time for the dynamite doctors!" Instead of heading right for their previous tables, the trio of men met the trio of ladies who had come to observe and possibly do a little ogling of their own from the footlights.
"Wow. Unexpected… I had no idea that any of you could sing like that!" Thirteen complimented. "Especially you, Chase. Really. I think I'm going enjoy managing this group!"
"See… I told you the pretty boy thing would work like a charm," the lower voiced of the House said knowingly.
"No kidding!" exclaimed Cameron, standing in front of her boyfriend a bit possessively and snaking her arms around his neck. "That was amazing... and unbelievably hot." He smiled at her eager response and the two shared a lingering kiss, a rare display of public affection for them.
"So much for you not getting laid later!" House snarked with an exaggerated wink at Chase.
"Very funny. Honestly though, I never thought I would see a cover of that song that could even approach the one they did on Will & Grace with Sandra Bernhardt. I think yours was maybe even funnier, because I actually know you guys. Forman, I think I almost saw you smile," Cameron chided, stepping away from Chase to give him a good natured punch on the arm.
The more stoic doctor permitted an honest smirk at her comment and answered, "Thanks," he nodded toward Cameron. Turning to his boss and his former team member, Forman added, "I wasn't really expecting to have a lot of fun tonight, but that… was a blast. I'm… really glad you asked me to come, House."
Not used to any kind of sincere thanks from members of his team with the possible exception of Cameron, he encountered a mere moment of speechlessness before regaining his verbal footing. "Well, you know… how would it have looked if we did Gladys Knight and the Pips without at least one black guy in the group?" House deflected. "We needed you. Simple as that."
Forman just shook his head knowingly while he joined the rest of the group to make another trip to the bar. They decided to stake a claim on the empty tables they found nearer the stage, though, and House agreed to save both the tables and his leg the walking if Chase would bring him another scotch. Cuddy remained behind, as well, catching his eye and shaking her head with an annoyingly perceptive, wry smile on her face.
"What are you grinning about?" he asked her testily.
"You," she replied honestly. "You can never just accept a positive comment without twisting it into some kind of smart-alik response, can you?"
"Oh, I don't know," House answered with tongue-in-cheek thoughtfulness. "I suppose it depends on the context of the compliment and its deliverer. If, for instance, you were to say to me 'House, you are a god in the bedroom and I want to spend the rest of my life as your sexual slave,' I believe that I would be considerably more receptive. And reciprocal."
Cuddy just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, cocking her head to the side to send him a nonverbal "really?"
"But it was good, though. Right?" he finally asked her genuinely, fixing his eyes on an unknown point to avoid hers.
"Of course. You always are. I can't even believe you would ask."
"Chase was good… but that song will always look hottest on you," House flattered just flippantly enough to conjure an ambiguous sort of sincerity.
Cuddy laughed somewhat coldly and rubbed her forehead idly, saying, "I wish that for once when you spend ten seconds not being an asshole, you could do it in front of other people so that I would have evidence that such moments exist in this dimension."
"But that would defeat the entire purpose of my carefully constructed persona of asshood. And we wouldn't want to screw with everyone's worldview by popping that concrete bubble, now would we?"
"Of course not," she sighed, ending the conversation on that unresolved note since their coworkers were starting to migrate back to their new location with an assortment of jackets, purses and drinks.
Just as House took his newly purchased scotch from Chase, the D.J. came back on the mic to announce the next victim. "Ok, and we're back… and let's get… Amber… up here to belt out some Meredith Brooks for us!"
All of the eyes in the group went to her immediately. After a momentary, but almost imperceptible gulp, she collected herself, responding confidently and coolly with a sly little smile. "What? Like any of you are really surprised," she said as she strode up to the stage. Wilson exhibited some wide-eyed concern at her song choice, but the rest of their tables' occupants burst into varying degrees of laughter. Even House chuckled amusedly, which was an atypically unguarded reaction for him. Wilson had never heard Amber sing, and he fervently hoped that she wouldn't be booed off the stage, because he knew that he would be the one stuck dealing with the hellish aftermath.