All the world's a stage
Cameron walked into the department Monday morning and spotted a note resting on the keyboard, immediately recognising House's semi-legible scrawl.
Bombshell: Auditorium 3. Come alone. Jokes - bring Boring and Bimbo. And coffee. Also maybe the cricket ball on my desk. And a Hershey bar. Don't forget the coffee. Or the Hershey bar. The capital of Cyprus is...?
The immunologist smiled for longer than she would care to admit at the nickname House had given her. She liked it. After a couple minutes' fond recollection of their shenanigans over the weekend, she set about making the coffee as she thought on his question. Geography had never been her strongest suit, and she was actually not completely sure where Cyprus was on the map. A while ago, during dinner, House had mentioned a few of the army bases at which he had stayed during his father's military service, and Cyprus was almost certainly one of them, from memory. The Americans maintained a presence at a largely British installation on that island, and she vaguely recalled him saying how they used it to fly sorties and protect allied interests during the Cold War. The Mediterranean sounded plausible. But the capital's name escaped her.
Cameron spooned beans into the machine and waited for it to brew. Foreman and Chase were due in soon, and then she would take them to their mysterious rendezvous with House. The man had given no indication over the weekend what he was planning, though during their chat about his paper Saturday evening he had inquired after hers casually, and whether it was in a fit state to present on short notice. Which of course it was—ready for over a month, even the PowerPoint slides were finished. It never paid to leave anything until the last minute. On a whim, she booted up the computer, located her personal folder in the cloud, and glanced through her notes, reminding herself of what they contained.
Foreman and Chase found her like this a few minutes later. "Morning", called the latter cheerily. It seemed that he had settled on a manufactured brightness as far as she was concerned, which didn't bother her in the slightest. She had become so used to interpreting her partner's moods and nuances that anything Chase (or Foreman, for that matter) could throw at her was, frankly, a refreshing diversion.
"Hi", she smiled, meeting his joviality with the same. "There's coffee in the pot but you might wanna slap it into a to-go cup. We're not long in this office".
"Got a case lined up?", asked Foreman, shrugging into his white coat.
"Unsure, but we're due in Auditorium three imminently. How's your conference presentation coming along? Still doing it together?". She poured House's coffee into a paper cup and put the lid on.
"Yeah, we finished it over the weekend. Turned out pretty good", answered Chase, who followed his colleague in coffee preparation.
"Nice. I've got a sneaking suspicion that House is gonna make us deliver our papers now, sort of like a dry run". Cameron wandered into the adjoining office to collect the cricket ball while the others chatted about their paper. "We all set, then?", she asked upon her return, the ball safely tucked away in her pocket.
"Yeah. Have you seen House this morning?", inquired Foreman.
"Nope, but he left a note with his instructions. Let's go. I need to pop by the vending machines on the way". She stacked the two coffees and went to the door.
"Isn't it a bit early to be hitting the soda and chocolate bars? There's no substitute for a healthy and nutritious breakfast, Allison", joked Chase.
"Yeah, yeah. Save the trash talk for the papers, Bimbo. Come!". Cameron left the office without a backward glance.
Both men looked at each other. "I swear she is becoming more like House with every passing day", said Foreman.
"Did she...did she just call me 'Bimbo'...?", asked the Australian, completely nonplussed.
The three fellows entered the auditorium to the sight of a white-coated House at the lectern, arms widespread. "Welcome, brothers and sister, to the house of the Lord!", he intoned in his thick Southern accent.
"You already used that line when we were treating the autistic boy a while back!", called Cameron.
House scoffed into the microphone. "Fine. How about: all the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players".
"What are we doing here, House? Apart from indulging your narcissistic need for display". Foreman crossed his arms.
"Always got to kill my vibe, Ice Man. Be like that". Nevertheless, he jogged up the stairs of the central aisle to meet his bemused subordinates. "Dr. Cameron, do you have something for me?", he asked, eyes twinkling.
"Do you want the coffee, the bar, or the ball?".
"I want the answer to my question, then the ball and coffee. You can keep the bar for now".
"Nicosia is the capital of Cyprus", she replied confidently. House raised an eyebrow at this, and her inherent honesty compelled her to add: "Wilson. Only a text away".
"While I'm disappointed you didn't know that yourself, you get points for your initiative".
"What the hell are you talking about?", asked Chase, who, like Foreman, was struggling to contain his annoyance. "What does Cyprus have to do with anything?".
"Nothing. Ball, please". He held out his hand and Cameron tossed it over. "Ah, my precious, I missed you", he said, rubbing it on his cheek while the fellows looked on. "Coffee now", and again Cameron duly handed it over. House took a long sip. "Hmm, just the ticket, thanks". After another satisfied slurp he continued: "I guess you're wondering why I summoned you here".
"I wonder a lot of things about you, House", commented Foreman.
"The conference is this week, and I thought it'd be a good idea if you three presented your papers to an audience before we leap into the lions' den, as it were. I've been informed by She of the Big Breasts that I'm meant to take an interest in your professional development. So that's what I'm doing. Unfortunately, I couldn't get a top-notch crowd on short notice, so I've roped in Herb the janitor; most of the catering staff; Mindy, Carli, and Charity from my speed-dial; Glenda the clinic nurse; and a host of med students. All of whom are now, yes, there we are...trooping in as we speak".
The door opened and a motley crew appeared, wearing expressions that ranged from naked boredom to apprehension. Everyone took a seat, having obviously been prepped by House beforehand. After the last of the hookers had filed through the door, Cuddy appeared; she looked angry. "House, what the hell are you doing? Are they...whores?".
"I believe the politically correct term is 'working women'. In any case, they are, for today only, professional audience members. Along with Glenda here, and Herb, of course. And these bright-eyed college students, all eager to learn. Plus these caterers. Please, everyone, get comfortable and we shall begin!".
Cuddy marched over to her Head of Diagnostics. "I cannot believe you have brought prostitutes into my hospital. Also, the nurse is Brenda, not Glenda. And who the frag is staffing the cafeteria?".
"'Frag'? You can use big-girl words. I won't tell dad".
"Speak", she demanded, arms folded.
"You told me to coach my team for London, so I am. If they can handle this, they can handle whatever the Brits will throw at them", he answered. "Cameron? Have you still got that Hershey bar?".
"Err, yeah". The immunologist was unsure whether she was amused, concerned, or angry at his antics. Upon reflection, it was possibly a stroke of genius. If her paper survived this band of people, it must be pretty strong. Chase and Foreman both stood with arms folded like Cuddy.
"Great. I'll take that now, thanks". House tore into the chocolate bar and munched it as he directed operations from the front of the auditorium. When everything was to his satisfaction, he walked up to his fellows. "Right. Who wants to go first? I've pre-loaded all your slides on the central machine".
The Dean was livid. "This is ridiculous. You've done some insane things, House, but honestly...do these people know anything about medicine?".
"Actually, Mindy is studying for a PhD in molecular biology at Harvard. But she's in New Jersey on, er, business", he answered, glancing over to a young woman with heavily shaded eyelids who was currently glued to her phone. "And these med students could do with learning a thing or two. Besides, you wanted it to be a test".
"This is not at all what I had in mind when I suggested a targeted feedback session".
"Well, you only sent the email yesterday, so this is all I could rustle up on such short notice. It's gonna be great. Trust me. Now, which of you fellows wants to go first? As you can see, we've got a sizeable contingent at the ready".
Cameron stepped forward. House may be an insane man, but he was her insane man. "I'll go". Despite his whirlwind bravado, he flashed her a knowing smile, and she was immediately put at ease.
"Fantastic. If you'd like to set up, Camster, I'll introduce you, and we'll get things rolling. You can stay or go", he added to his boss, "but this is happening".
Cuddy shook her head in exasperation but nevertheless moved off. Thankfully, the Townsends were not scheduled to appear today, so there was little chance of any permanent damage to the hospital's reputation. Chase and Foreman also settled down, having seemingly come to terms with events.
House took up position at the microphone. "Welcome, all, to our mini symposium. Over the next couple of hours, we shall be hearing from two of PPTH's finest doctors. And Foreman. I ask that you keep all questions to the end. Prostitutes and catering staff: if you wish to fall asleep, please refrain from snoring. Without further ado, may I introduce Dr. Allison Cameron, who will be talking on Sjögren's syndrome". Following an elaborate bow, House retreated from the podium, and Cameron took his place.
"Thank you, Dr. House. It's an absolute pleasure to be standing here before an audience of such pedigree. So, what is Sjögren's syndrome? If you turn your attention to slide one...".
House was at the door farewell-ing the attendees. "OK, excellent, yes, thank you for coming".
"Hi, Dr. House. You haven't booked an appointment for some time. Are you feeling well, darling?". Charity placed a hand on his forehead dramatically.
House could see Cameron in his peripheral vision; fortunately, she was chatting to a med student and missed the physical contact. He quickly removed the hand and patted it gently. "I'm a changed man, Charity. Give my best to Carlos". The woman sighed in mock sadness and finally departed, leaving House to amble back down to the front row where Chase and Foreman were lounging. "That wasn't so bad, eh, my dudes?", he asked.
"Well, it wasn't great, House. I think it would have been more effective for you simply to read our papers and comment on them", returned Foreman.
"Yeah, but so boring. Gotta keep the magic alive". House retrieved the cricket ball from his pocket and began flicking it up into the air.
"So, do you actually have any feedback for us or not?", demanded Chase.
"Your presentation was fine. You did a decent job dovetailing between the medicine and the theory. No doubt all the hot chicks in London will want a piece of your pie".
"We still haven't heard your paper, even though a section was promised to us last week".
House stopped playing catch long enough to throw across a flash drive. "There you go. Knock yourself out".
The two men shook their heads before walking up the stairs and back to Diagnostics. Cameron, meanwhile, finished her conversation and wandered over to where House was sitting, sinking into the neighbouring seat. "Was that med student angling after your number or did he just really love Sjögren's syndrome?", he asked.
"The latter".
"How was that for you?".
"I mean, it was interesting, for sure. Were you just looking to piss Cuddy off?".
He shrugged. "Sometimes you'll have friendly audiences; sometimes not. Practice can never hurt, and all the world really is a stage".
Cameron smiled faintly. "So, what's your report on my paper?".
"It's good. You'll do well on Saturday".
"I really do appreciate your helping me with it", she said, placing her hand over his on the armrest.
"No worries. I sense Foreman and Chase are not quite so enamoured of me at the moment". The pair had delivered their paper under extreme duress.
Now it was Cameron's turn to shrug. "Since when do you care what they think?".
"I don't. I only care what you think".
She turned fully in her seat to regard his profile. "OK, now you're just stealing my lines".
House scoffed but turned the conversation back to work. "Make sure you don't rush slides eight through eleven. They carry much of the science and people need a chance to digest. I know you're going to beef it up again for publication but it's still pretty heavy".
"Noted, thanks". The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, as they often did when further talk was unnecessary. House had closed his eyes and was dropping off to sleep until Cameron nudged him. "Hey, House?", she asked conversationally.
"Mmm?".
"Why was that hooker touching your face earlier?".
"She noted my...absence recently and asked if I was sick".
"And how did you reply?".
"With the truth", he murmured sleepily, "that I'm a changed man".
The immunologist's heart beat faster, and it took her a moment to muster the courage for a follow-up. "Because of your fixed leg...or because of me?", she whispered. House remained quiet, and she glanced across apprehensively, aware that he disliked excessive questioning on feelings. But soft snoring was his only response. That man could fall asleep anywhere. Cameron shook her head in exasperation, before reaching into his coat pocket and retrieving the cricket ball, tossing it from hand to hand and thinking over the paper and any possible improvements that could be made.
It's the end of 2020. There have been 35,000 views of this story, from readers of many nationalities, during that time. Thanks so much for dropping in on this fic, and even more thanks to those who have showed their support by reviewing, following, or favouriting. I have lots planned for House and Cameron in 2021. See you next year!