Talent spotting
A.N. For those in Europe, apologies for the late upload time. If you want someone to blame, blame society. I'm heading into a busy period and wanted to get this out.
Cuddy was preparing for her meeting with Foreman, casting her eye over the latest report from Diagnostics. Every Friday afternoon, regular as clockwork, he submitted written records of the department's business. The face-to-face catch-ups, now not quite as regular, were kept to bi-weekly. House, of course, never did such things, and he didn't need to. But Foreman was new to management, so she had insisted. This was her responsibility as Dean, but its impulse hid a large dose of academic curiosity. House had been top dog for so long, it was interesting to see someone else at the helm. The fact that Foreman's promotion was purely temporary afforded the opportunity yet more value: there was no downside. Cuddy was a fan of things with no downside.
She had also met with Chase and Thirteen throughout this period, getting their impressions of the neurologist's leadership style. Generally it seemed things were fine, even if Chase self-confessedly grated under Foreman's hands-on approach. House led through broad strokes and often left his fellows to do much of the grunt work themselves. Undoubtedly this stemmed largely from his own disinterest in completing mundane tasks, but it also ensured that his fellows enjoyed a great degree of independence. His replacement, on the other hand, was a micro manager. Cuddy knew which style she preferred, but it wasn't her place to nitpick.
There was a knock at the door and she called 'come in'.
"Afternoon", said Foreman, making his way over to sit across from her desk. As always he was dressed sharply in suit and tie.
"Hey", she smiled. "How's it going?".
"Pretty well, yeah. Managed to discharge a teen earlier. Takayasu's arteritis".
"No kidding. Japanese?".
"A few mothers back, so it took us a while to find it. Physiologically they were Caucasian. I didn't know it presented in descendants".
"Me neither. Interesting, though. Journal article incoming?".
"I think Thirteen called shotgun on it".
"Thirteen?". Cuddy was unfamiliar with the nickname.
"Oh, Dr. Hadley. 'Thirteen' is House's invention. From what I've gathered she was the thirteenth applicant in line. She doesn't seem to mind it, so…".
"Just don't become an item or he'll call you 'Foreteen'", she laughed. Foreman gave a tight smile, such that when Cuddy continued her head tilted curiously: "or is it too late for my warning?".
"Well, no", he cleared his throat, not expecting discussions of a personal nature.
"Pity. She's an attractive woman".
Foreman was the most uptight of the fellows and she couldn't miss this opportunity to tease him before getting to the business side.
"Anyway, did you find time to read my report?".
"I did. Very thorough. You've certainly taken to leadership like a duck to water. How do you feel you've done so far?".
"That's not really for me to say. I'm just looking to learn; to improve from this opportunity".
Cuddy nodded, perusing the file on her screen.
"It's not been completely straightforward", he continued. "As you know, we lost someone last week. And Chase has started to become…restless".
"Understandable. Temporary positions like this are liable to throw up problems or bring tensions to the surface. As far as I'm concerned, you three are doing well. Obviously, House's are big shoes to fill…". She left it hanging.
"Is there any indication as to when he's returning?". Foreman asked the question as casually as possible, but even then couldn't quite keep a tremor of resentment out of his tone. The nephrologist was a brilliant doctor, but he himself had admitted that he cared little for the career progression of his subordinates (at least, perhaps, those subordinates who were not called 'Allison Cameron'). Foreman could distinctly recall the ferocity with which House had rejected his request to co-run a drug trial with a colleague at Holy Cross last year. This period was consequently one of valuable professional development. He did not plan on being a fellow forever.
"No indication. His cast is off and he's been doing rehab. But I'm not going to push him. So you're in the clear for now".
"Oh, I didn't mean-".
"-relax". She held up a hand. "I appreciate ambition. Hell, I have a bit myself".
"Mmm. I don't know many female deans, truth be told".
"Quite. What's your view of Hadley? Since you've been overseeing her probation and all".
Foreman placed his palms face down on the desk. "An excellent doctor, which is surprising given the circumstances of her hiring". House had summoned up as if from thin air around twenty interviewees, invariably beautiful women, one day a couple of months ago. At the time both Foreman and Chase had thought that their boss had finally gone insane following his split from Cameron. But it seemed that even the man's insane decisions could be inspired, since Thirteen had acquitted herself extremely well indeed.
"Well, House has always had an eye for talent", replied Cuddy.
Foreman inclined his head at the indirect compliment but before he could say anything further the pager at his belt beeped and he got to his feet. "Sorry, I should…".
"Please". She gestured to the door. "The TLDR is: you're doing well, and keep it up".
"Thanks, Dr. Cuddy. See you in a couple of weeks".
The Dean smiled faintly after Foreman. The guy was a good doctor. Sure, he didn't possess the inspiration of his predecessor, but not many did. At some point, House's return would need managing. But right now the only thing that mattered was his full and speedy recovery. Diagnostics could wait.
"House! Hey, House!?".
Cameron's call cut through the TV and House muted the sound. "What? Julio is about to-".
"-would you come here, please?".
He sighed, grabbing his cane and heading through to the study. Women. "What's up?".
Cameron had been wearing his gaming headset. She took it off and smiled up at him. "Sorry, I didn't intend to disturb you, but I need your input on something".
"You don't need a boob job, no". Although House had seen Cameron already today, he had temporarily forgotten that she had begun to do things with her hair. Today it was very loosely curled, almost wavy, and flowed down over her shoulders. Not only did he think it a very pretty style but also, perhaps, an indication that she was becoming comfortable enough in his home to express herself. Either way, the reflection brought him satisfaction.
"Ha ha. Look", she pointed at the screen with one hand and removed her glasses with the other, setting them to the side. "I've literally got four different journals asking to publish your London article".
House blanked.
"Remember? I said I'd take the lead on getting it placed? Since you were being a lazy goat?".
"Vaguely. When was that?".
"It doesn't matter. Anyway, rather than me just choosing, I figured you could do the honours and deliver the coup de grâce". Cameron, still sitting in the chair, reached to touch his shoulder.
"No French. We're American. Speak American".
"You spoke French when we were on the hospital roof, though".
"It was a mistake. I meant to speak Japanese".
Cameron stifled a laugh which would have been cheaply won, and asked: "you wanna sit?".
"Yeah, OK. Good call". Without waiting for her to vacate the chair, he sat down.
"House-!". She hit him fairly softly, a habit grooved by long knowledge of his injuries. "You're so, unhh, heavy!".
"Hey, that's not very nice. You can't say that to disabled people. Hmm, let's see now". He leant back as he thought, feeling Cameron's forehead and nose poking between his shoulder blades. "You OK down there?".
"Mffmh-!".
His mouse trailed over the message from the Chicago Medical Journal. "Ah, CMJ. Nice one. You date the editor or something? Oww!".
Cameron had bitten him.
"No biting there, Jaws", he said, reaching round and covering her face with a hand.
This motion necessitated leaning forwards to create space, and she spoke against his palm, albeit slightly muffled: "boy, you so fat".
"Y'know, there's a real mean streak under that fuzzy exterior". House did finally get to his feet, though he still leant over the keyboard and Cameron slapped his butt as he lowered himself into the now free chair.
"Uhuh", she grinned, newly liberated. "And you're not gonna tell anyone about it. It'll be our little secret".
"Joke's on you; I suck at keeping secrets. Oh, man. There's, like, ten different journals here wanting a piece of my pie. I'm not reading through all this. Prescription Passion is on a cliffhanger".
"There's four".
House sighed.
"Just pick one. The sooner you pick, the quicker you can go back to the TV. And the quicker I can go for a shower after my long day".
"Fine. I pick CMJ, editor Tom Graveney", House highlighted the relevant message in the inbox and glanced up at Cameron standing over him. "Satisfied?".
"You don't think Philosophy of Medicine is a better fit?", she queried, assuming control of the mouse. "After all, your paper was pretty big on that stuff. Also, the North East-".
"-Cameron, I'm fine with CMJ", he interrupted calmly, scanning Graveney's message again before nodding his head. "It's a good journal, but not massive, so fits with my criteria of not shoving it down people's throats".
"A good journal", she agreed. "But not the best here. You could do better".
"Nah". House got to his feet gingerly. He was still relatively fresh to rehab and his body, which took a while to adjust at the best of times, had still not built up proper muscle tone yet. But it would. Before this whole phase, he had resolved to devote himself to rehab. Nothing had changed.
"I just don't get why you won't at least entertain the others here. There's only four, and you've landed on the least prestigious". Cameron folded her arms and refused to budge as he stood, meaning that they were close together in the confines of his study.
"I explained why. You're in the way". He attempted to slide past her and through the open door, but she held her arm out. "What?".
"You're not…you're not picking CMJ because it's based in Chicago, right? You're not picking it because of me? Because that would be a completely stupid reason and I would not be OK with that".
"Yeah, that would be truly insane", he chuckled. "May I go now?".
Cameron looked into his eyes, searching them. "What do you want for dinner?", she asked eventually, seemingly satisfied with his response.
"Italian? Carter mentioned a place a couple of blocks away. Vesuvius, I think; will send you a link to the menu".
Cameron nodded, trailing her hand down his arm and brushing the back of his fingers as she reclaimed the computer seat. Then she settled her glasses on the bridge of her nose and set about typing a response to CMJ.
"Hey, blondie?".
"Mmm?". She shot him a glance but quickly got back to her task.
"Thanks for your work on this stuff".
"Why're you thanking me?". There was a trace of suspicion and she half-turned in the chair to face him. "Did you use my toothbrush again?".
"Err, what? No. That was one time". House rubbed his cheek self-consciously. "I'm just, er, showing appreciation for your work".
"Oh. Well, no need. I love this stuff", she smiled.
"Writing emails?".
"Helping you realise your talent and, well, just helping you, really". The immediacy of this answer caused her to blush a little, and she returned her attention to the computer, typing loudly. "Go and sort dinner. I'm hungry".
A smile tugged at House's lips. He knew her well enough to recognise that she believed firmly in attack being the best form of defence. Nevertheless, he couldn't resist a parting 'shot' as he left the study: "you look really nice today".
Cameron didn't respond, apparently engrossed in composing her email, but he glanced back just in time to see her brush a finger through her newly waved hair.