Interview
The following week House was busy fine-tuning his article for publication. Although he would never tell her this, Cameron served as something of an inspiration in this regard. Usually prone to various different flavours of procrastination, he acknowledged that she had pushed him to deliver the paper, putting aside her own objections. It therefore seemed right to finish the job in her honour, even if he would not share its completion with anyone else, except perhaps Wilson.
Just as this reflection arose, the man himself poked his head through the door. "You on a case?".
"Nah", replied House, still turned towards the computer screen.
"Let's grab a coffee, then. Got something for you".
"You finally managed to acquire Natalie Portman's phone number?".
"Even better than that. Come".
"Scarlett Johansson's number?!".
"The sooner we get to the cafeteria…".
House sighed but did make his way over, the two walking down the corridor to the elevator. "If you've got a robotic girlfriend waiting for me…then great".
Wilson merely shrugged, and no amount of prodding could get him to open up. Only when they had sat down with their drinks, and shared a few minutes of harmless conversation, did he break his silence. "Here". An envelope was pushed across the table.
"I'm not marrying you, James", replied House, sipping a coffee paid for by his friend, "no matter how many hot caffeinated beverages with extra whip you buy me".
"It's an envelope. What kind of crazy sociopath hides a wedding ring in an envelope?".
"Hey! We don't use the word 'crazy' anymore; it's 'mental idiots'".
"Just open it".
"Fine, but I want the record to show that I think you're getting soft in your old age". House pretended to gag before ripping open the envelope and emptying its contents onto the table. "Paper?! How did you know?".
Wilson refused to engage.
The nephrologist sighed and examined the items more closely. His mouth fell open. "How did you get these?".
"True cost? A man cannot say".
"Could a man's accountant say…?".
The pair grinned, both enjoying the allusion to a similar day a couple of years ago. The last time this event had arisen, Wilson had been pre-booked to see Stacy. House had asked Cameron instead and the rest was history. A very happy memory.
"Seriously, how did you get these? I checked recently and came up blank".
"I treated someone a while back…he's in the box office over there and, now, cancer free".
"No way", murmured the other, turning the passes over in his hands, not quite able to believe it.
"Yep. Anyway, I'll keep hold of 'em for the time being". Wilson took them back quickly, sliding them into his jacket's inner pocket, before glancing at his watch: "let's hit the road—got a patient at eleven and can't afford to be late. Townsend's referral".
"We should get into the habit of doing this", mused House. "I mean, it's basically lunchtime".
Wilson smiled, pleased to have brought a little light to his friend. "Not sure Cuddy would approve". The pair turned into the corridor for Diagnostics.
"Who cares. She's not my mom".
"House, you won't forget that I bought those monster truck tickets, will you? They cost a lot of money".
"I know, I know. You've done well, don't worry".
"Good, because, er, there's someone waiting for you in your office". Wilson quickly opened the door and shepherded his friend inside. An Asian-American woman and a younger man wearing a Pittsburgh Steelers baseball cap were standing within, talking to Cuddy.
"And this", she said, gesturing towards the slightly confused nephrologist, "is Dr. House".
"Hello there. I'm Tiffany Kim from Scientific Inquiry. We're here to interview you guys for our next feature. We've already taken a few shots in the joint office with your staff".
The nephrologist glanced through the glass. Chase and Foreman were chatting together, stealing looks at the journalist, and Cameron was reading at the table. "This is the first I've heard of an interview".
"Hmm. We sent emails to both you and Lisa a couple of months ago".
"I'm not big on emails; they aren't in the Talmud. Say, Lisa", now he turned to his boss, "a word?".
The pair retreated to a corner of the room while Tiffany and her photographer stood slightly confused.
"What's all this?", he asked quietly.
"An interview", Cuddy replied, folding her arms. "Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours and then you can get back to being grumpy".
House turned to Wilson. "You bought those tickets as a bribe?".
"Yep. I think it's a fair exchange but, hey, you don't need to do this, and I'll just return them no problem".
"That's pretty sneaky".
"I paid a thousand dollars. Get over it".
"A thousand dollars? What're you talking about?", asked Cuddy, eyes narrowed.
"Prostitutes", said House quickly. On the one hand he hated strangers and being forced to talk to them. But on the other, he simply couldn't pass up a chance to see Gravedigger again. At the end of the day, two hours wasn't a long time. "Ugh, fine! Are the others on board?".
"Yes", replied Tiffany. "We're planning to have a group chat first, and then we'll interview each of you in turn. The end product'll be a composite full-length rundown of diagnostics.
"Let's get this over with", he sighed.
"Good", smiled the Dean. "Do you want me?", she asked of Tiffany.
"If it's OK, I'll finish up here first and then come down to your office to get the rest? It's usually best if employees don't have their bosses hanging around—disrupts the flow".
"No worries. Let's go, Wilson. House", she pointed a finger at him, "behave!".
When they were alone, the cameraman sidled up to House, but still looking at Cuddy walking off down the corridor. "Bit of a ball-buster, hey, dog?".
"Something like that, dog, something like that", he replied forlornly, before glancing up at the Steelers logo on the guy's baseball cap. "What's the quarterback situation like over there these days?".
"Pretty damn bad. Fresh blood's needed, y'know?".
Before the other could reply they were interrupted by Kim, who had been fiddling with her voice recorder. "Shall we?".
A couple of hours later, Cameron was sitting in House's office waiting to be called for her solo interview. Chase had already finished and Foreman, though the blinds were drawn across, sounded like he was in full voice. With nothing to do, she woke the desktop up from standby and was surprised to find House's article open already—it seemed like he had decided to revise it for publication after all. The next few minutes were spent scanning the pages, and it immediately became obvious that it had lost nothing in the redraft process. She wondered what journal he had settled on.
As on the night of the Christmas party, the immunologist picked up a ball and tossed it slowly from hand to hand, the steady drone from next door a background to her thoughts. The group interview had been quite awkward: House didn't want to be there, and Foreman kept trying to dominate the discussion, as if to prove his own intelligence. Chase, meanwhile, shared unwelcome jokes with Cameron, and the woman herself was feeling despondent over an impending departure which remained secret to her colleagues. Tiffany Kim had seemed a little surprised at the dysfunction.
Thanks to Cuddy's remarkable efficiency, only one more week of diagnostics remained for Cameron and then it would be down to the Emergency Room. In normal situations there would be a longer handover period in which she could acclimatise to a new environment and give the department time to fill the gap. But this wasn't a normal situation and, truthfully, she was glad to make a quick exit. As regards the ER, the work, she knew from experience, would be hectic. Good. Anything to keep her mind occupied and off House; anything to aid the healing process. Medicine would take care of itself. The part which caused a surge of dread was saying goodbye: a few simple words hiding a mountain of meaning.
"Dr. Cameron?", Tiffany opened the adjoining door and ushered her through to the main office, which had been set up with extra cameras and lighting. "If you could just take a seat? Basically, I'll ask you similar questions to the others: y'know, why you decided on diagnostics, what the dynamics are like…".
Cameron tuned out the rest, looking around fondly at this office which, for so long, had come to be home. So many memories forged in this place: most good, some bad, and just a few absolutely great. As a young doctor straight from her residency at the Mayo Clinic, she could still remember the day when the call for an interview had come through…
xxx
The young woman entered and sat in the chair across from her supervisor, Professor Filmore, a proud North Carolinian with a bushy moustache and thick-rimmed spectacles. "Ah, Allison, glad you could make it. This won't take a minute".
"No problem", she smiled. Though she had suffered through many problems at the Mayo, Filmore was not one of them.
"Listen, I've been combing through the list of hospitals you sent across, and I just had a couple of questions, if that's OK?". Filmore, who had been browsing the papers before him, peered over the rims of his glasses, continuing at the other's nod: "I know you've been leaning towards immunology, but I really do think there are some fantastic paediatric positions available down south: Emory, for instance, in Atlanta; Tampa General in Florida…".
The woman nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I understand, Professor, but I'm a northern girl…allergic to the sun. Plus, and I accept this is probably more of a motivation than the weather, there are some great doctors closer to home".
"Like Gregory House?".
"Among others".
"I know he's advertising for a fellowship, but it…might not be a, ah, wise career move to go to Princeton".
"I don't follow".
"This man House. Never met him, but I've heard things through the grapevine. Troubling things, professionally speaking. I'm not sure he'd be a, er, productive mentor".
"I've done my research on all the places to which I've applied. I've learnt a lot here, sir. But I also think that it's time for me to try a different approach to, to become a better doctor. I think that Princeton Plainsboro and New York offer me something different".
Filmore shuffled the papers in his hands, ensuring that the edges of each page were aligned. "I respect that, of course I do. You've been a strong student, Allison, I've told you so".
"Once or twice", she grinned.
"Then it is my duty to warn you…Gregory House is as difficult as he is brilliant. But I've also heard that he can be prone to, to, ah…unpleasantness".
"You don't mean-?".
"-oh, no, nothing like that. Or at least, not as far as I know. But I really do think you ought to be cautious, just in case".
"Thanks for the concern, but I can take care of myself".
"I don't doubt it", smiled the other. "But I still want you to be vigilant".
"Hmm", she mused. "If I promise this, you'll write me a glowing reference?".
"I'll do that anyway, of course".
"OK, well", she got to her feet and extended her hand, "thanks for everything, Professor".
"Not at all. Wherever you end up, don't forget us here at the Mayo".
The woman tilted her head in gratitude and left the office, shutting the door softly behind her. She had walked about three paces before her phone started to vibrate in her pocket. A glance at the caller ID revealed nothing, so she swiped 'accept' and pressed it to an ear.
Allison Cameron? A deep male voice.
Uhh, yes, hello?
Why the hesitation? Is your existence conditional?
Cameron didn't know what to say to that and she shook her head to clear the brain fog. Sorry, who is this?
House. A loud sigh flew down the line, and the sound of cartoons underlay the next words: you have an interview.
Sorry…Doctor House? At Princeton? The name made her flush with excitement.
Yes…
I'm very glad to hear from you. Maybe Filmore had known of this impending call and attempted to pre-arm her?
Monday. Half past eleven. Don't be late.
I won't, thank-
-if you want to bring a headshot along, feel free. My buddy and I like a good laugh.
The line went dead.
"Dr. Cameron?". Tiffany was looking at her expectantly.
"Umm, sorry", she cleared her throat, snapping back to the present. "What was the question?".
"I was asking what you liked best about diagnostics". The woman sat with legs crossed, voice recorder on the table.
"Oh, well, it's hard to pin down to a single thing. I guess I most appreciate the fact that no case is the same. Obviously, doctors have their specialisms, but it can get sort of stale treating the same thing all the time".
"So, diagnostics gives you variety?".
"Yes", she nodded, "there's very little repetition".
"Anything else?". Besides the recorder, Kim had a pad on which she scribbled notes.
"The puzzles", answered Cameron immediately. "Cases tend to be hard to solve because for them even to reach our door, other doctors have failed".
"Mmm, I can imagine it can be intellectually stimulating?".
"Exactly".
Tiffany made another note, before smiling. "We'll come back to the day-to-day stuff, but I'd like to discuss context. You mentioned specialities. Yours is immunology, correct?".
"That's right".
"And you came to Princeton Plainsboro from the Mayo? Who was your supervisor there?".
"Dennis Filmore. Paediatrics".
"How can it be that an immunologist is supervised by a paediatrician?". Over the interviewer's shoulder, Steelers-cap man was snapping pictures.
"When I started there, paediatrics was my plan. It changed. But I didn't want to leave Filmore, so we kept the old arrangement".
"Why did the plan change?".
"I realised I liked immunology more".
"Fine. In the article, I'd like to focus on beginnings. Dr. Chase has told me a little of his early days as the only fellow here. What're your overriding memories of your initial time at PPTH?".
"That's a broad question".
Kim tilted her head. "I'll narrow it down. Your interview for this position".
"Why'd you want to know about that?".
"Gregory House is an interesting man, and the interview is a 'first impressions' situation. It seems a logical place to start".
"Fair enough. But it was pretty normal…".
xxx
Cameron turned into the grounds of Princeton Plainsboro, parked her rental car in a visitor's bay, and turned off the ignition. A few deep breaths did very little to calm the nerves, and the chiming of her phone caused a tension-filled shudder of surprise. A text from mom: hey, sweetie. Best of luck for today. I know you'll be amazing xx.
Thanks. I'm a bit early, so just gonna take a drink of water in the car before heading in.
OK, replied Sandra immediately. Just be yourself. And remember, it's just a job lol xx.
Mom, what do you think 'lol' means?
Lots of love.
Funnily enough, this response caused a laugh. But Cameron merely replied: thanks for the thought. I'll let you know how it goes. Lol!
With that, Cameron checked her face in the mirror, grabbed her bag, and headed through the main doors into the hospital. She signed in at reception, put on her ID badge, and moved towards the bank of elevators and the nearby information board.
"Can I help you?".
"Oh, hello", she replied, turning around to address the voice, which belonged to a pretty woman with curly dark hair. "I'm trying to find Diagnostics".
"Ah, you must be one of the fellowship applicants".
Cameron found it odd that this would be common knowledge, but mentally shrugged. "That's right, for Gregory House".
"I'll take you up; heading that way anyway". The pair walked into the elevator and the woman pressed the button before extending her hand: "Lisa Cuddy".
"Allison Cameron", she smiled, shaking it. "Nice to meet you. I assume you're a doctor too?".
"House would say not, but yes, I am. Though these days I'm the Dean of this hospital".
The immunologist smiled again but didn't reply, mentally rehearsing the talking points she wanted to cover in the interview.
Cuddy covertly appraised the other. This one was beautiful—light brown hair swept back in a band, a delicate face, pale skin, lively green eyes. House would eat her up. "Don't", she warned suddenly.
"Don't what?". The two walked out and down the corridor.
"Prepare. House will know, and he'll jump on it".
"What should I do, then?".
"Keep an open mind and roll with the punches. Anyway", she gestured, "here we are". Cuddy knocked on the door and both entered. "House, your latest candidate. Allison Cameron".
The man at the desk had been balancing a bottle of pills on the rubbered end of a cane, but Cuddy's words caused them to tumble back to earth until he caught them nimbly in his free hand. "I was going for a new record. Thanks to you, it's completely ruined".
"Take a seat, Dr. Cameron", she said, ignoring this comment before leaving without another word.
The immunologist did as instructed, settling in the chair. House, meanwhile, popped a pill and dry swallowed, gazing at her intently.
Cameron fidgeted and cleared her throat softly. "Umm, Dr. Hou-".
"-holy shit, Chase's going to absolutely love you". More silence, before he continued: "luckily, though, staffing ain't part of his remit".
"Chase?", she asked, slightly disconcerted.
"The resident wombat and, more than likely, your future husband". He waved a hand in the air. "Tell me something non-boring about yourself".
"I, uh, enjoy running".
House winced at this answer and sank another pill. "Would you like a Vicodin?".
"No, thank you".
"As you wish. I suppose we'd better get down to business". House retrieved a piece of paper from a drawer and glanced at it. "Hmm, not a bad resume. I see here you were into wrestling at college".
"I wasn't into wrestling at college". This was the weirdest interview she had ever had.
"My mistake", continued House breezily. "Do you have a girlfriend, boyfriend?".
"Neither".
"Ahh, you're one of those earnest types. Let me guess: you got into medicine to help others and make a difference".
"Isn't that the motivation for all doctors?".
The man laughed, stopped at her confused look, then laughed again. Suddenly the door opened and another guy walked in. "Sorry I'm late. Hi, Dr. Cameron? James Wilson. I'm the head of oncology here at PPTH".
Cameron smiled and made to get up but he waved her down.
"Hey, Wilson, Campbell here wants to make a difference. Unironically". Now House was twirling his cane.
"Well, nobody's perfect. Have you started yet?".
"We were just having a pre-interview chat. First question: would you tell us, doctor, why I should hire a little girl for my department?".
"Err, what my colleague meant to say-", interrupted Wilson quickly.
"-no, it's fine. I don't mind answering". The immunologist sat forward in her chair as she responded. Although she was careful to address both, really her attention remained focused on House himself, who slouched in his chair, seemingly disinterested. There was something about this man: obviously brilliant, she had known that going in; effortlessly rude, again, as Filmore had warned. House had sharp blue eyes, a long face, and a sardonic air. Not at all what she had imagined.
"So that was all you talked about? Just standard questions? Apart from the 'little girl' jibe, obviously". Tiffany Kim seemed slightly disappointed.
Cameron, who had censored her account a great deal, nodded. "Yeah, sorry".
"OK, let's move on—you've been here for three years, correct?".
"Yes", Cameron nodded, though her mind was still on the memory of her interview. At the time, House's shock tactics had surprised and annoyed her. But now, with the benefit of hindsight, she understood that his unconventional approach was simply to ensure that he acquired the best staff; or at least, staff with whom he could work. There had been nothing personal in it.
"And how has diagnostics helped you professionally?".
The woman murmured a response. "I learnt how to be a doctor from House. That is, a doctor who learnt how to be a doctor from House, if that makes any sense".
Kim gave her a curious look. "Doctors Chase and Foreman have already told me that he has a unique leadership style, and both, off the record, have shared some…interesting insights".
"Interesting how?", she asked, though again her mind returned to the interview:
House had sharp blue eyes, a long face, and a sardonic air. Not at all what she had imagined.
But she was on the cusp of leaving him behind.
Leaving behind a man whom, now, three years later, she loved desperately, wholly, completely.
"I got the impression they disliked him. Do you dislike, House, Dr. Cameron?".
"No, no", she whispered distractedly, still consumed by her own thoughts. "I…I love Dr. House".
Tiffany glanced up at Steelers-cap man, who momentarily pulled back from the viewfinder. "That's something we haven't heard", she commented.
"I mean…uh, what did you ask me again? Sorry…bit preoccupied". Cameron swallowed and urged herself to focus.
"Whether you dislike him. But it sounds not".
"Well, I mean, I love being around him-, professionally, y'know. It was always…stimulating-, not, not in an erotic sense of the word, obviously…". The woman winced.
"Don't worry about it", smiled the other comfortingly. "It's no big deal; doesn't need to go in the final thing. Shall we move on?".
"Sure", replied Cameron, silently cursing her own carelessness. The ER would provide a fresh start and safe ground. Nobody there was likely to delve into feelings of love and loss, feelings which she needed to squash as fast as possible.