A/N: Sorry for the delay. Things have been very busy, and my project for spare time the last few days went to filling out all the paperwork for the annual review for Mom's case which had a tight deadline. But here's an update finally.

One comment on names as we meet the new team candidates. Lots of OCs coming in during this story. Unless I specifically say so, I have not been inspired by characters from anywhere else in stories, books, TV, movies, etc., for OCs that I introduce. It's almost impossible to come up with a name nobody else has used at least in part somewhere before, but any similarity is pure coincidence. I only recently found out that House the TV show had introduced a "Thomas" as a father figure after I stopped watching. My Thomas has nothing at all to do with that one, not even the source for the name. He was Thomas from the beginning to me, and I liked the alliteration with Thornton, as well as the family alliterative and sequential naming trend, which is something House could mock while privately being intrigued by, as he is with anything in the family category that isn't fake, belittling, or painful. I remember somebody also asked me once months ago about Belle's name, if I got that from something or other to do with Hugh. Since I hadn't even seen the movie referenced, no, it wasn't.

Anyway, if I borrow inspiration, I do try to credit it, so if I don't credit it, just assume they are entirely independent creations, not any sort of attempt by name or otherwise at a "spin-off" from something else, even something else Housian. I'm sure my movie/show education is less than 90% of the readers have. I've never seen Hugh in anything besides House and haven't seen all of the House episodes - although there are a few interesting-sounding other Hugh things that have been mentioned over the years by readers that are on the "when I have spare time" list to check out. Spare time is still at a premium, so I'm not down to finding and watching them yet.

Enjoy and thanks for all the reviews. I have dress rehearsal and a concert this weekend, so probably no time for an update until next week.

(H/C)

"BZZZZZZZ!" House made his own far-louder buzzer sound as Cavity Sam's nose lit up. "Minus 100 points."

Monica Ramirez looked up with a sigh from her failed attempt to extract the funny bone from the Operation board. House tapped the timer which was sitting on his desk. "Clock is ticking," he reminded her. "The case has to be completed within 3 minutes, or the patient dies." Ramirez obviously bit back a comment and returned to fishing with the tweezers for the game piece.

"We're not even using the official rules," Erin Hollingwood protested.

"Rules?" House repeated. "You want to use the rules? Forget about rules. Diseases don't know the rules; they haven't read them." Ramirez succeeded in fishing out the funny bone and moved over to the broken heart. House gave her an approving nod. "50 points gained back. But the time limit just changed." He bumped the timer up 30 seconds. Ramirez glared at him, but she knew by now the futility of protesting that something wasn't fair. She redoubled her efforts, trying to be careful and speedy at the same time.

"The time limit changed? Just for her or for the rest of us, too?" Steve Templeton asked.

"Depends on how annoying you are. Yours might be one minute," House shot back. Templeton compressed his lips into a tight line, and the thought bubble over his head was almost visible as it counted up years he had spent in medical school leading to this. "Sometimes the time limit changes when we're on a case," House continued. "Things suddenly get worse. We can either waste time protesting that that's not fair or wasn't in the rules, or we can do our best to keep going as quickly but logically as we can toward the diagnosis." Ramirez picked out the broken heart and moved on to the spare ribs.

House studied the three of them as the game continued. Three candidates, selected from a number of applicants that had surprised him. He had considered picking a whole room full again, just to rile Cuddy and even more the board, who had been increasingly vocal in their demands that he should fill Hadley's former position, but somehow, his heart wasn't quite in the game this time. The circumstances of Hadley's death remained a sore point, although sessions with Jensen had worked through much of his own guilt. But replacing her seemed so final. It had been a year and a half since her death, and while Cuddy had been trying to be patient and understanding with him, even her patience on the empty slot in Diagnostics was running low. She did have a limit to her patience, and while he enjoyed pushing it, he didn't enjoy breaking it, especially when outside pressure on her as an administrator was building.

Budget talks in late February had been the tipping point with the board; either Diagnostics should fill that other salary allotted or release the funds to another department. House's suggestions for a few other ways to spend the money within Diagnostics had not been appreciated. Then he had gotten hurt at the track, but the board saw no reason why he couldn't sort through candidates while recuperating, and they, of course, didn't know everything else that was going on with Thornton. To them, it was a simple case of broken ribs, nothing approaching the stress of Hadley's death and the Chandler trial, which was the excuse Cuddy had given them all through the last year and a half. His mother's death had gained him a few more months before their latest demand to put out the call for applicants, but without admitting a new acute personal stress, Cuddy couldn't delay any further.

So the position had been advertised. Candidates flooded in, most of their resumes immediately hitting the circular file. He had sorted it down to these three, and they had arrived in the middle of last week for the final process of elimination. Unfortunately, their appearance coincided with a dearth of cases. The only patient since Wednesday had been utterly boring. He gained a little bit of time running over old files with the current team's input, recreating the cases, but Foreman had barely participated. Apparently he was finding replacing Hadley a hard final bite to swallow himself. House had finally dismissed him and Taub to do clinic duty today, and Kutner, who would have been far more fun to have around during the testing of the candidates, was on vacation this week. So Operation it was, but House shared Templeton's unspoken opinion that this was a waste of time. How he wished for a patient, a nice, juicy, challenging patient, a live test for them to cut their teeth on while he observed.

The timer sounded, and Ramirez sat back in defeat. "Not bad, but not good enough," House commented. "The patient just died. Hollingwood, you're up." He reset the timer to 2 1/2 minutes. "Ready, set, go."

She sat rather primly in the chair in front of his desk as she started, her posture protesting while her hands went to work. Hollingwood was a first-rate if young doctor; they all were. She had been at the head of every class on the way to her specialty in pulmonology. But she had an annoying by-the-book streak. He had selected her to see just how dogmatic she was about that and if she could adapt. She had potential; all of her references she'd listed and even the ones he had called whom she hadn't listed spoke well of her, but no one had called her imaginative.

Ramirez, the cardiologist, was the one out to prove a point by overcoming her past. He wasn't sure of the exact details of her past, and whatever she was trying to conquer had occurred far earlier than the past he was able to check on so far. But she might as well have worn it printed on a T-shirt. Her entire medical degree and her success in education to this point were obviously a mental bird flipped to somebody or something years ago. House was intrigued. Of course, he could hire Lucas, but that was no fun. Much better to work the puzzle on his own as he could. Fascinating as she may be, it was her medical and diagnostic skills that would determine whether she won the position in the end.

Then there was Templeton. Ruthless, determined, he reminded House of a male version of Amber. He had specialized in neurology. He was also the most offended at the Operation game. Ramirez thought it juvenile but had done her damnedest anyway; Hollingwood disapproved but was humoring the boss. Templeton wanted to win, and he wanted to win on patients, real live patients, not some game. He wanted to win on the position, as well. If Operation was required, he would do it, but he still thought it a waste of time. As House watched right now, he shifted his position in his chair, accidentally on purpose jostling Hollingwood's arm, and she clipped the side of the cavity. Sam's nose lit up as the buzzer sounded. Hollingwood looked at Templeton, then the timer, and resumed focus, drawing herself up a little more tightly.

House nodded. "Can't let yourself get distracted. 50 points. And Templeton, your time limit did just go to one minute. Competition is one thing, but we can't lose sight of the final point, which is diagnosing the patient. Sabotaging teammates isn't going to help the patient, so when you do sabotage somebody, do it while the timer isn't running." Hollingwood succeeded in bring up the ankle bone connected to the knee bone just as the timer sounded.

Templeton pulled the game board over more toward himself and waited, poised, as House set the timer at one minute. "Go." He started with admirable dexterity, quickly retrieving the first three pieces, working from the brain down. He was just going for another cavity when House's ball zipped six inches by his head. He jumped in spite of himself, and the nose flashed as Sam protested.

"And that's not sabotage?" Templeton objected.

House shrugged. "This isn't a real patient. It's just a game. And distractions will happen on a case; you have to be able to focus." He had caught the ball neatly on rebound, and now he tossed it on either side of Templeton, keeping the pattern unpredictable, as the final seconds ticked down. The buzzer sounded. "And the verdict is that none of you won. The patient died. Have to do better than that, egglings." Hollingwood thought of asking about the last word and then bit back the comment. She was learning already, just in a few days, even if her expressions were eloquent. "You're not ducklings yet. Haven't hatched, and only one of you will."

At that moment, House's cell phone rang. It was Thornton. He considered, then answered in Dutch. "Hello."

Thomas replied in the same language just to be symmetrical, though there were no background sounds. He was probably alone in the car at a rest stop, House decided. "Is this a bad time, Greg?"

"It's an interesting time." House watched the three egglings. Ramirez was trying to figure out the call and fill in the blanks, as was Hollingwood, though Hollingwood was working just from curiosity. For Ramirez, she was wondering if this was some sort of additional test and was determined to do her best at it if so. Templeton was trying to look like he didn't care what the call was about, but he, too, was listening. None of them understood the language. "How's the long and winding road?" House asked the old man.

Thomas' voice relaxed a little, convinced that whatever was going on, his son didn't object to the disruption and was only trying to annoy or interest somebody. "Definitely long, at least. It will be over 1000 miles by tonight."

"You're the one who made it longer than it had to be," House reminded him. "Going clear up to north Ohio added an extra jag."

"I wanted to see the place, and it seemed like a good opportunity while I was changing gears. It wasn't that far out of the way. I've been back a few times since Mom and Dad died, but it's been several years with everything else lately. Haven't really looked around all the old haunts since I came with Emily and Tim when I left the Marines."

House couldn't imagine wanting to visit a hometown. He couldn't imaging having a hometown. Not one from childhood, anyway. "News flash, old man. It's still there. A map would have told you that."

"Some of the people are still there. It was fun reminiscing with them about old times." His voice sounded wistful for a moment. "Dad was such a character, but they remember Mom, too. As for the places, the stable where I kept Trigger is now a mall. The house is still there, but it's been painted green." He sounded offended.

"Paint doesn't last 60 years, you know."

"I know, but it just seems like it should be white. It was always white. That's part of the order of the universe." Thomas chuckled slightly, laughing at himself, an ability that House was still amazed by. John House had never to his knowledge laughed in humor, not at himself or at anybody else. Laughter had been ominous, full of private plans. House wrenched his thoughts back from the past.

"You're on time for today, though?"

"A little ahead. Make it about 5:30." The pure anticipation in Thomas's voice was enough to send his son on another bewildered differential. There was nothing else there. He simply wanted to see them.

House dodged. "I've got to get going now. I'll tell the wife." That line was given in five rapid-fire languages, two words each, as he watched the egglings for an impulse pop quiz. Ramirez spoke Spanish, but that had been an easy guess anyway. Hollingwood knew a bit of French but was rusty; probably hadn't used it since high school classes. Templeton wasn't fluent in any of them but was trying to plug in the Latin roots where applicable.

Thomas laughed, not thrown at all by the linguistic stew. "Whatever you're doing, I hope they're curious."

"And annoyed, but yes, curious." House landed on Japanese. "See you tonight, old man." He hit off and pocketed his cell phone.

Hollingwood was the first to ask, winning House's bet with himself. "Who was that?"

"The State Department. I work as a translator in my spare time." Hollingwood sighed. Templeton looked bored, working a little too hard at it, and Ramirez wondered for a few seconds if he might be serious.

Cuddy's firm step was heard coming from the elevator, and House turned toward the door. "Ah, Dr. Cuddy. Just in time. Okay, egglings, here's another test. We didn't have signed consent forms for this Operation we just conducted." Cuddy looked from him to the game board and rolled her eyes. "Explain to Dr. Cuddy why we didn't obtain proper consent before proceeding. Hollingwood, go."

Her posture was even more stiff, as if adding lack of consent to her list of things wrong with this whole exercise, but she answered promptly. "We didn't have time. It was an emergency procedure, and he was unconscious."

"Ramirez."

"The patient lacks capacity to give consent. He scored a 0 on a mini-mental status exam, no appropriate responses to questions at all, clearly extremely disoriented. There were no next-of-kin around, he was not carrying a wallet, and the procedure had to be performed. We did have multiple doctors agree to the necessity of the operation."

House grinned. "Not bad," he said admiringly. "I like the MMSE; nice touch. Templeton."

Templeton looked directly at House, then at Cuddy. "My supervisor told me to do it, so I figured that any lawsuits resulting from incomplete paperwork would land on him." Cuddy's lips quirked at that one.

"And your response, Dr. Cuddy?" House asked.

"I might buy the one from Ramirez, but you should have documented that with witnesses as a form of consent itself. There should always be something documented, even if after the fact in a life-threatening emergency. Is this patient's chart complete?" Her tone at the word patient was a bit strained, but she was trying to play along.

House snapped his fingers. "Chart. He's supposed to have a chart. I knew we were forgetting something." Hollingwood sighed again; she was starting to sound like a broken record. "Okay, egglings, Operation Operation is over for the moment. Your next assignment, speaking of charts. Go down to the ER. By observing from the sidelines only, not by direct questions, each of you need to find a patient who is lying about the chief complaint they gave at triage. First one back wins, unless a later one happens to have found a more interesting lie. Go."

Three chairs pushed back, and they rose. "Do not interfere with patient care," Cuddy emphasized as they walked past her.

"That was implied in the from the sidelines part," House said.

She closed the office door. "It didn't just need to be implied. It needed to be emphasized. This is a hospital, not a simulator for you to test candidates in." She looked at the Operation board with exasperation.

"There isn't a patient," House explained. "None needing Diagnostics, anyway. I had to do something with them today. What we really need is a patient, one that pushes them."

"Hopefully someone in Princeton will conveniently get sick just to help you out." She walked over to the side of the desk with a quick glance at her watch on the way. It was 2:00. "Have you heard from Thomas, Greg?" She had asked him the same question at lunch, though had resisted calling herself, afraid that putting pressure on him would make Thomas drive faster.

"Just now. He's getting close. He said about 5:30 or so."

She relaxed. "Good. I just wish he'd had some company on that long drive."

"He is 75, you know. He probably knows how to drive by now." He didn't admit how often he had checked his cell phone for a missed call today, just in case.

She obviously heard the thought anyway, but she didn't push it. "Did you call the candidates egglings a minute ago?"

"They're not ducklings until they hatch."

She rolled her eyes again, but she stepped a little closer. "I apologize for everything happening at once, Greg. I couldn't stall the board any longer without them questioning my professional competence or yours."

He tensed up at the mention of everything going on, and his joking tone was just a little strained as he replied. "You apologize? Come on, Lisa. That's no fun."

She started to protest, but she heard and felt the tension in him. She looked around quickly to verify that nobody was outside the closed door and that the conference room was empty. "I'm sorry, Greg," she amended.

Standing up, he swept her into his arms, and what started out as a dramatic victory, having made her give in, turned to reassurance in spite of himself, then to passion. After they parted - she would never let anything public in the hospital go too far - she sat down on the other side of the desk, and he started giving her a much more in-depth analysis to date of the three egglings.