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To Catch a Weasel
by Jackyblu
This is the third appearance by Dr. Kevin Chambers in my stories. I introduced him briefly in "Lockdown", and he was featured prominently in "The Great Escape?" Margie is also back in this one. I tried to delve into Wilson's college years a bit. I based it upon two occasions of Wilson wearing a McGill sweatshirt and other fanfic that suggested that House and Wilson met at the University of Michigan. FYI: z=th in the french portion. You'll see when you get there. Thanks again to Firesideguy for the beta!
*
For most people, being bored was something that just happened. It wasn't a big deal, just a minor inconvenience, like an attack of the hiccups. When it occurred to Dr. Gregory House it was the beginnings of bedlam.
Normal people just didn't understand House. His mind didn't work the same way as average mortals. It was constantly analyzing situations. House could keep hundreds of thousands of facts and minute details in his mind at one time and call any of them up as the need arose. His mind was always busy, sometimes too busy. At those times he would look for something to quiet the dissonance going on inside his mind. If he didn't have a case to occupy him, then he looked for a distraction. Music was good. A prank was better. Of course at these times he didn't want to fly solo. He needed a sidekick to help him create havoc. That's when he would appear on the balcony or just barge right into the office next door, and simply announce, "Jimmy, I'm bored."
"Read a book! Write a paper! Sneak into the nurse's showers! Damn it House, we just got off the last one month penalty Cuddy imposed." Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose, never a good sign.
House dropped into a chair opposite Wilson's and placed his feet on the desk. "I have never snuck into the nurse's showers, that I recall telling you about," he muttered the last part. "Can't you put that punishment thing behind you?
"Yesterday House! We finished yesterday for God's sake! Are you that anxious to get on the wrong side of Cuddy already?"
"I've never been on the wrong side of Cuddy," House said with a leer.
"She hasn't let you near her right side either," Wilson shot back.
"Oh snap!"
Wilson had a sudden burst of inspiration. "There's a challenge for you! Ask Cuddy on a date. You don't need me for that."
House recoiled in mock terror. "Ask Cuddy on a date? Are you insane? I really don't have a death wish!"
"One hundred bucks says you wouldn't have the nerve." Wilson leaned back in his office chair and gave House an appraising look.
"Oh I've got plenty of nerve pal!" House raised one eyebrow as he looked at his friend.
"Fair point. Okay one hundred bucks says she'll turn you down flat."
"You're serious about this!"
"One hundred dollars worth."
"Not good enough. One hundred dollars and you do my clinic hours for two weeks."
"One week."
"Done."
"If you lose, you owe me one hundred dollars and I get to use the 'vette' for a week."
"What!"
"And, you don't take your bike out. You ride with me in the 'vette'."
"Hey! I already told you I don't have a death wish."
"That's the price for boredom. So Dr. House what's it going to be? Deal or no deal?" Wilson grinned at him.
House narrowed his eyes at Wilson. "No deal," he said reluctantly. He was really unhappy about being out maneuvered by Wilson this time, but the fact of the matter was that Wilson was probably right. Cuddy had been furious over the last incident. He had no doubt she would turn him down. It would have been an embarrassing scene that she would have held over his head for some time to come, and that was simply unacceptable. He must have been pouting while these thoughts were going through his mind because Wilson spoke up.
"Stop sulking. I'll buy you a Reuben for lunch. Will that help?"
"Chips too?"
"And soda and a cookie," Wilson said nodding.
Free food! Maybe House should let Wilson win a few more of these battles occasionally. Not too often, he still needed Wilson to remember who the evil genius was in this friendship. He took his feet off the desk and placed them on the floor.
Wilson looked surprised. "What! Now? House it's only ten thirty."
"The corned beef will be fresher," House explained simply, standing up.
"Didn't we have breakfast together this morning? I seem to remember your fork stabbing at my pancakes."
"That was hours ago," House complained.
"Two and a half."
"Exactly. I'm a growing boy, with a hyper metabolism."
"Hyper something! Maybe I should just put you on Ritalin," Wilson buried his face in his hands, and sighed.
House placed a shocked look on his face. "Drugs Jimmy? You know how I feel about that," he mocked.
Wilson's face reddened. "What was I thinking?" He snarked. "You'd never put anything into your body that wasn't completely healthy and natural. With the exception of everything you eat, drink, and inject!" He spat sarcastically.
"Whoa! Where did that come from?" House's mocking look was replaced with one of stunned surprise.
Wilson sighed, and closed his eyes. "I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm just tired. You wouldn't believe all the crap I had to put up with from Chambers."
House returned to the chair. "You never said anything. What did the Weasel do to you?"
Wilson looked at House and then rested his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands. "Well, it was quite a pleasant experience. First, I had to clean his office, and let me tell you, I will never again think that you are the most non-hygienic person I know." He spoke into his hands.
"Thanks, I think."
Wilson ignored the response and continued. "Next I reviewed and corrected his files. The guy can't spell to save a life. Then he wanted all of the files re-categorized. Personally, I thought that was a good idea, because the way they were organized made no sense at all, and at least I would be doing something that was useful. That took three days. When I was done, he decided that the way they had been originally set up was better. He wanted me to change it back. I argued with him that the original system was illogical. I showed him how much easier it was to access any patient information he needed in a minimal amount of time," Wilson shook his head.
"What happened," House asked tight lipped.
"He knocked the files to the floor. Kicked them around a bit to scramble the contents with the others. He told me to re-organize them." Wilson glanced at House.
"I take it that's not all," House said, his face like stone.
"Just the warm up act. I was assigned the duties of cleaning his car, picking up his dry cleaning, fetching him coffee and lunch, and taking his dogs to the vet and groomers. But the real fun was in the OR. Then I was his 'assistant'. I was responsible for reading the monitors and reporting to Chambers. He would then insult me, or demean me in some way, to entertain his colleagues. The highlight was the time he hit me in the crotch with a syringe full of Lidocaine," Wilson's face took on a pained look.
"Ouch!" House exclaimed with a grimace. He placed his hand in his lap without realizing he was doing so.
"It was accidental of course," Wilson said tilting his head and arching and eyebrow.
"Of course," House echoed mimicking Wilson's look.
"Peeing proved an interesting challenge."
"I can imagine." Wilson shot him a disbelieving look. "Okay, I can't. I was just trying to be empathetic. Not my strongest suit."
"You're kidding," Wilson deadpanned and then continued his story. "Anyway, Chambers had me so loaded down with work during the day that I had to stay late nights just to keep up with my own work. At the last board meeting I was yawning so much Cuddy asked me if she was boring me. Chambers just sat there with a pissy little smile on his face."
"Explains missing our traditional pizza and bad movie Thursday nights."
"Sorry."
House fixed a searching look on Wilson's face. "Why didn't you say something to Cuddy? No, don't answer that. You thought you deserved it, didn't you? You were being punished, so whatever crap came your way you deserved."
"Actually Dr. Sigmund House, I didn't want to give the bastard the pleasure of knowing he was getting to me." Wilson locked his over-bright brown eyes on House's blue ones.
"Now that is the James Wilson I am proud to call my best friend!" House exclaimed with admiration thumping his cane once upon the floor. "So, what are we going to do about it?"
"Do about it? Nothing. It's over."
"Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy," House said shaking his head. "How is it possible we have spent so many years in each others company and you think that this challenge is going unanswered."
"Well you did just cave to my Cuddy challenge. I was hoping it was a sign of maturity."
"Nice. You know me better than that."
"Yes. Unfortunately, I do."
"Revenge is a dish best served with fries." House got to his feet again, which indicated he was ready to eat now.
Wilson stood too. "I believe the quote is 'Revenge is a dish best served cold'," he said as they walked toward the open door to the outer office where his secretary sat at her desk. "Margie, I'm taking House for his mid-morning feed."
Wilson's secretary looked over her shoulder with a smile. Fifty-something, she was kind, efficient, and had a quick wit. Margie took crap from no one. She was the main reason that Wilson was not inundated with requests for speaking engagements, endless consults, and trivial matters that would take up all of his time, because by nature he was too accommodating to say no. She was also responsible for keeping his calendar. Margie made sure that there was always free time for her boss to spend with his best friend, her other favorite 'little' boy. House appeared in the doorway. "Mid morning?" She exclaimed looking at her watch. "It's almost eleven! Careful he doesn't try to cut the slow and infirm from the herd. Although, that would be him on both counts wouldn't it?" She smiled her sweetest smile at House.
"Margie my dear, you are a bitch." He graced her with his most charming smile.
"And you, Dr. House are a perfect ass. Thanks for the flowers and chocolates, by the way."
"You earned them darling. The way you dealt with Chambers was priceless."
"You going after him for what he did to my boss?" She asked indicating Wilson with a nod of her head.
"Of course."
"If there is anything I can do..."
"That's my girl!"
"You wish," she said smugly tossing her head in the exaggerated move of a coed at a party. She made a gesture as if she were lifting her boobs, then put her head back down and resumed working as if none of this had happened.
House chuckled. Margie was a gem. He adored her. He limped over to the desk and planted a kiss on her cheek.
"Yipe! When are you going to shave those hypodermics off?" She placed a hand affectionately on his cheek.
"When you say you'll go out with me," he answered leering.
"Oh. Never then," she answered batting her eyes.
House clutched his heart and staggered as if mortally wounded. "Wilson? It's time to replace your secretary. Find someone who isn't as insensitive to the needs of your best friend."
Wilson mocked a look of concentration on his face and shook his head. "Secretaries like Margie are hard to find. Easier to get a new best friend."
"Hey! No ganging up on the cripple you two."
"Dr. Wilson, you had better get him fed if that's the best retort he can come up with."
"We're going. Come along you limping twerp." He grabbed House's arm and steered him out of the office.
*
House was uncharacteristically quiet on their walk from the office to the cafeteria. This made Wilson nervous. They picked up trays and placed their orders, a Reuben dry, no pickles for House and toast for Wilson. House added a bag of chips to the tray, got a large cola, and then after a moment's hesitation snagged a giant chocolate chip cookie still warm from the oven. Wilson shot him a side-glance as he got himself a cup of coffee. "Tape worm?" House didn't rise to the bait, and this worried Wilson. They picked up their orders and Wilson paid. They walked quietly to 'their' table near the rear wall of the cafeteria. House preferred having his back to the wall so that the vista of the cafeteria stretched before him. No one could sneak up on him, and he could make comments on anyone he saw... his preferred past time. They sat down and Wilson watched as House ignored his food. He could see the ideas running through his mind by the way his expression would change subtly. House would get an idea, analyze it for its merits and then reject it in favor of something else. Wilson sipped his coffee and waited, not wanting to interrupt the evil genius at work. But by the time Wilson had drained the coffee from his cup, House looked up at him with no clear idea in mind. If a quiet House was unnerving, a defeated House was worse.
"Maybe you just need to refuel your brain cells?" Wilson suggested with a shrug and a look at the food he had just paid for.
"Maybe," House said picking up the now cold sandwich and taking a bite.
Wilson took a bite of his toast and chewed thoughtfully. "You know, this animosity between Chambers and I goes back to McGill."
House's head snapped up and he fixed Wilson with a piercing blue stare. "What? You never told me you were at school together."
"Yup. Rival frats too."
"Do tell. No, really! Keep talking," House encouraged now very interested. He ate with a renewed appetite while Wilson recounted his past.
"Not too much to tell. We were in some classes together, always trying to out do each other. I usually scored higher," Wilson added modestly.
"Don't call you the Boy Wonder for nothing," House said with pride. "You were what, nineteen when you started there?"
"Just turned seventeen. I graduated a year early and wanted to take a year off but my parents insisted that I start at McGill that fall. I pledged a frat and I think they took me because I was young and a novelty on campus. I never really fit in though, kept pretty much to myself. I attended a few parties but I was just so out of place. Not old enough to drink. The girls I met thought I was cute in a 'little' brother kind of way, so nothing much happened there either." Wilson's throat was getting dry from talking. House said nothing when Wilson reached for his soda and took a drink. "Anyway, Chambers was always trying to pull some stunt on me. Started off small. Things like leaving the library at night and finding my car tires flat. Having a friend send notification that a lecture had been rescheduled. I only fell for that one once. Fairly benign stuff. Until I made the mistake of retaliating." Wilson's eyes went out of focus, and for a moment he was far away and years ago.
House didn't like the look on Wilson's face. It was a mix of pain and humiliation. What long buried memory had sculpted this look on the features of his only friend? House softened his voice. "What happened?"
"I let the air out of his tires. I just happened to be walking through a parking lot on my way back to the house, and saw his car. So I managed to let the air out of three of them before he came upon me working on the fourth." Wilson got quiet and sighed.
"And..." House prodded gently.
"...And I learned a valuable lesson that night. Don't let the air out of a guy's tires in the parking lot of his favorite pub, especially if he's with two of his larger frat brothers."
House put his hand over his eyes and then pulled it down his face until he was resting his chin on it. He squeezed his eyes closed. "Oh Jimmy."
"Woke up in the campus infirmary with one broken and two cracked ribs as well as multiple bruises and contusions. Also a nice little concussion from being kicked in the head while I was lying on the concrete. I think it was Chambers that gave that to me."
"Not too long after that you transferred to Michigan?"
"Stayed another semester."
"What! Why?" House asked both surprised and impressed.
"Couldn't let him and his henchmen scare me off, could I?"
"Yes, you could. But you didn't, which is why I respect you."
"Yes well, it was a semester of pure hell. I tried to stick it out but eventually I made a run for the border." He looked so ashamed it hurt.
"Michigan was better for it. I guess I really should thank the bastard. He gave me my best friend," House finished with uncharacteristic sentimentality, which had the desired effect of making Wilson smile. "Did he have you roughed up again?"
"Just intimidated. He went everywhere with two or three guys who were big enough to block the sun."
"Figures the Weasel would choose larger playmates to hang around the schoolyard with. I seem to remember what an imposing figure you were when we met."
Wilson smiled sardonically. "And all I had to do to keep those behemoths off me was write some of Chambers' papers, and let him have a look at my exam papers."
Jackpot! Now House had something he could use. "He cheated off of you! And made you write papers for him? McGill takes a very dim view of that sort of thing." He grinned at Wilson. "We got him Jimmy!"
"What? House that was years ago."
"Doesn't matter to an academic board of review."
"You're going to report him?"
"Nope."
"You want me to? I don't have a death wish either."
"Not you. Not me. You remember the names of his bodyguards?"
"They're tattooed on my ribs."
House stood up abruptly, grabbed his soda and popped the last piece of cookie into his mouth.
"Where?" Was all Wilson had time to ask, before he was hurrying in House's wake. He was remarkably quick for a guy with a cane, especially when he was on a mission.
"To the bat cave! Come along Boy Wonder." A group of people were holding loaded food trays and trying to decide which of the twenty-four empty tables would best suit them. House pushed through, "One side, dynamic duo coming through!" He announced much to Wilson's chagrin.
"God I wish we were masked." Wilson dropped his head and hurried after House to the elevator.
"And in costume. You'd look cute in tights." House gave him a lusty look as he pressed the call button.
"And you, not so much." Wilson narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
"Is that a nice thing to say to the guy who is about to defeat your arch enemy?"
They took the elevator to their floor and proceeded down the hallway. Wilson started to enter House's office, but House passed him, and stopped at Wilson's office.
"I thought you said the bat cave?"
"In this case, that means your office. We need Batgirl's help with this one." House pushed the door open. "Margie! Ready for some trouble?" He hollered.
"About time!" She shouted back. "Took you long enough. What are we doing?"
"Discrediting a Weasel." House beckoned her to Wilson's desk. "Need you at the computer Batgirl."
"Who?" She asked looking at her boss.
"Apparently, we are saving Gotham today." Wilson answered placing his hands on his hips.
"Oh," she said understanding the reference. "You know, you'd both look cute in tights," she added with a tilt of her head and a wink at House.
"I think so too!" House declared while looking pointedly at Wilson. " Of course we would need to find you a nice body suit, thigh high boots, and a cape." House winked back.
"Would you two like me to leave the room for an hour or so?" Wilson asked somewhat disgusted.
"I guess this can wait," Margie, answered him while sending a smoldering look at House.
He got very close to her. "Four-thirty good for you?" He asked.
"Oh my God!" Wilson moaned.
"Killjoy. Okay, back to crime fighting. Margie, we need to look up the current whereabouts of two ex-McGill students. James will provide you with their names."
"Wait House. How is she supposed to find these guys after all these years?"
"The McGill alumni database," came the answer in unison. House and Margie turned to each other and touched index fingers. 'Zap'
Wilson rolled his eyes.
"First bad guy," Margie asked.
"Brian Westerling," Wilson answered.
"Nothing. Must not have graduated."
"Not a surprise. His head was a thick as his neck."
"Next?"
"Mark Pope. His middle initial is R. I think."
"Mark Randall Pope? Graduating class of 1990?"
"Sounds like him."
Margie chuckled. "He's an associate professor at Clemson."
"Teaching weight training and filling his students with steroids?" Wilson asked derisively.
"Nope. Ethics."
"Score!" House proclaimed with a triumphant shake of his cane.
"That doesn't sound like him." Wilson said in amazement sinking into a chair in front of his desk.
House moved behind Margie so he could look at the screen. "Well done Batgirl! The Clemson faculty listings if you please." Margie pulled up the listing for the Philosophy and Ethics department and House got his first look at one of Wilson's tormentors of old. "Well, you definitely have more hair than this guy."
Wilson rose from the chair and curiosity made him walk behind the desk and look at the image on the screen. Mark Pope had as much or as little hair as ex-Minnesota governor Jesse Ventura. Actually the guy looked a lot like the ex-gov. "Even you have more hair than this guy," Wilson commented dryly. Thump "Ow! Was that your cane?" Wilson reached around Margie and hit House.
"Boys!" Margie admonished. "We are in the middle of something here."
"He started it," House huffed. He stuck his tongue out at Wilson. Wilson made a face back at him.
Margie reached up with both hands and smacked them both on the back of their heads. "Alright, we found him. Now what?"
"We make a phone call to Clemson," House said rubbing the back of his head. He looked at Wilson, "Did you ever write any papers for this guy?"
"No. Our main encounter was the gut punch that dropped me and the kick that broke my rib."
"Bastard!" Margie exclaimed vehemently. House squeezed her shoulder as a sign he agreed whole-heartedly with her assessment.
"Jimmy, it's time to get reacquainted," he declared.
Margie made the call and asked for Associate Professor Pope. She identified herself as being from Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital's Department of Oncology, and would the gentleman mind holding for the department head, Dr. James Wilson. She said 'thank you' before the stunned silence on the other end of the phone abated.
Wilson's voice came on the line. "Mark?"
"James? Ah...it's good to hear from you. This is quite a surprise."
"I can imagine. So, associate professor at Clemson, in the department of Ethics no less. I'm frankly stunned."
"Yeah. Look James, I know an apology is long over due. I want you to know how sorry I am for the way I treated you back then. I've felt bad about it for years. I just didn't know how to reach you."
"You could have asked your old pal Chambers. I'm sure you know he is head of the anesthesiology department here."
"Kevin Chambers? I haven't spoken to that son-of-a-bitch in sixteen years," Mark growled.
"Oh? Had a little falling out did you?"
"You might say that. He tried to get me thrown out of school."
"Shame," Wilson said supremely unsympathetic. "Why would he do such a nasty thing like that to a friend?"
"Because, I threatened to go to the academic review board about his cheating."
A deeper growling voice suddenly came on the line. "How'd you like to make up for your past transgressions?"
"Who is this?"
"House!" Wilson exclaimed, exasperated.
"Greg House best friend of James Wilson. Just answer the question."
"Well, sure, but its too late now. Isn't it?" The voice on the end of the phone sounded hopeful.
"Never too late to right a wrong," House answered wincing inwardly at words he didn't believe but sounded good nonetheless.
"What do I have to do?"
"Nothing for now. When the time comes, he just has to believe that you and James would go to the academic review board and get his diploma pulled."
"We should."
"If it comes to that. I'm betting it won't." House answered. He hung up the phone in the outer office.
"Your friend is quite a guy," Pope told Wilson.
"Don't I know it? I guess we'll be in touch," Wilson added feeling awkward.
"James? It was good hearing from you. Seriously, keep in touch, okay?"
Wilson sighed. He was torn between keeping that part of his life in the shadows where it belonged, and trying to move beyond it. "I'll try Mark. Goodbye."
"Okay kids," House announced. "Time for phase two."
*
Margie was again on the phone. This time she was a secretary from the McGill University department of academic review, calling Dr. Kevin Chambers.
"Department of Anesthesiology, Dr. Chambers speaking," came a pompous and slightly snotty voice over the phone.
"Kevin Chambers?"
"Doctor Kevin Chambers," he corrected firmly.
What an ass, Margie thought. "Please hold for the Dean's office." She placed the call on hold and looked at House. "You're on caped crusader."
House picked up the receiver and took the call off hold. "Monsieur Kevin Chambers?" House spoke with a pseudo French accent.
"Doctor." Chambers stated pretentiously.
"Escuez-moi, but zat remains to be seen." House said firmly while he grinned wickedly at Wilson.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Monsieur Chambers, you have been accused of academic impropriety while a student at McGill University. I have zee sad duty of informing you zat until such time as zis investigation is concluded, your degree has been revoked until zee dean has determined your guilt or innocence."
The `Weasel' was sputtering so much that he could hardly get a word out. "I...Impossible...Who?" House had to turn his head away from the receiver to snicker. Chambers voice took on an anxious edge. "Look, I think I know what this is about. I just had a bit of trouble with one of the other doctors here who was also a McGill student. He was my assistant and he resented it when I needed to discipline him for poor performance. I am sure he thinks he can falsely accuse me of something in an effort to discredit me."
House had to remember to stay in character, and not let Chambers know exactly what was on his mind, complete with explicit details. "Ah, I see. I did not know zat Monsieur Pope was a doctor. Our records show zat he is an instructor at Clemson University."
"Pope? I am talking about James Wilson!"
"Zhere must be a mistake. Mark Pope made zee complaint. But it did involve allegations of intimidation to a James Wilson. Monsieur Pope has further stated zat you forced James Wilson by zreat of violence to write papers for you zat you zen submitted as your own work. Zis office has also secured a medical report regarding James Wilson, which documents an incident of a possible beating. Zee young man was hospitalized with a concussion, broken and cracked ribs, as well as bruises and contusions consistent with zose of a person who had been beaten. You wouldn't know anything about zat would you Mr. Chambers?"
"No! Of course not," Chambers voice cracked in his panic.
"Mr. Chambers, you need to present yourself to zee office of zee Dean of Graduate Studies in zree days time to answer zees charges. Monsieur Pope will be present and I am summoning Doctor Wilson as well, zough he has not lodged a complaint at zis time." House looked directly at Wilson when he said, "It is my hope zat he will show some courage and help us to find zee truth concerning zese shameful assertions." Wilson dropped his eyes from House's and gave a little shame-faced nod.
"Three days? I can't leave my department on such short notice! I have surgeries scheduled! As a doctor and department head, I have responsibilities! This hospital cannot spare me to run up to McGill to dispute some base-less accusations," Chambers declared puffing up.
House deflated him. "Your employer will be notified of zee situation. I am sure zat you will agree a doctor wizout a degree is not someone most hospitals want on zeir staffs. I will see you in zree days," House said firmly and terminated the call before Chambers could utter another sound. "Right about now," he announced to Wilson and Margie, "a Weasel has wet himself. Wow, that pun sounded bad even to me," House blinked his eyes and gave his head a quick shake.
Wilson stood with his hand on the back of his neck a weary expression on his face. "What now?"
"Now kiddies, comes the fun!" House said rubbing his hands together in a perfect evil genius imitation.
Wilson looked alarmed. "What are we going to do to him?"
"Nothing. That's the beauty of it! We let him punish himself."
Margie looked puzzled. "I think I missed a couple of pages here. Am I being dense?"
"Don't feel badly, I spend almost everyday with this lunatic," Wilson indicated House with a nod, "and I can't follow his convoluted plans either."
"Guilt!" House said rolling his eyes at the pair of them. "If you had a dirty little secret, what would your greatest worry be?"
Margie grinned. "That someone would find out."
"Or a few someones. All we have to do is make eye contact with the guy. Paranoia will do the rest," House finished arching his eyebrows. "Time to begin phase three."
*
Phase three began in the cafeteria. House and Wilson made sure that they were both at a table when Chambers entered. House made damn sure he saw them by, well... just being House. He suddenly raised his voice a few decibels and addressed Wilson; startling him so badly he nearly dropped his drink in his lap. "I'm telling you that that's what I heard!" This drew the attention of everyone in the room including Chambers.
"Jesus House! You scared the life out of me."
House softened his voice so that Wilson had to lean in to hear him. House made eye contact with Chambers. "Turn around and look to your left," he whispered to Wilson. Wilson complied and spotted Chambers who looked back at him. "Okay, long enough. Face me again," House instructed. Wilson obeyed.
"What's he doing?" Wilson whispered.
"Apparently loosing his appetite," House said smiling as Chambers made a hasty retreat from the cafeteria.
An hour later, Dr. Chambers was in the hallway off of the lobby, trying to get a can of juice from the vending machine. He walked into the lobby just outside the clinic and saw Wilson's secretary speaking to nurse Brenda at the front desk. Margie looked at Chambers and then quickly returned to her quiet conversation with Brenda who raised her head and favored Chambers with a smile. "That's Dr. Chambers Margie. How could you confuse him with Dr. Masters?" Brenda chuckled.
"I guess I spend too much time on paperwork and not enough interacting with the staff," she said almost choking on the laugh that was threatening to bubble from her as she saw Chambers spill much of the juice on his lab coat in his haste to escape their stares by leaving the lobby. "Thanks for getting me Dr. Wilson's clinic schedule Brenda. His calendar is such a mess."
"No problem Margie. By the way, you should get out of the office more. You know what they say about all work and no play?"
"Thanks Brenda. Maybe I'll try to fit in a little more playtime." She smiled as she glanced down the hall at Chambers' quickly retreating back. She had done her duty to preserve justice. The rest was up to the dynamic duo.
As the day wore on, Chambers had managed to encounter House and Wilson either together or separately a half a dozen times in various places. All for very legitimate reasons. He saw House outside the radiology department speaking with Foreman, who looked right at the anesthesiologist and smiled. Wilson was speaking to Cameron outside the lab. She also graced Chambers with a smile, which sent him scurrying. Chase passed him in the hallway near the ORs and had the bad luck to say 'Hello'.
"What do you mean by that?" Chambers rounded on him.
"I mean, 'Hello'," a shocked Chase said. "What do you think I mean?"
"What have you heard?" Chambers demanded.
Chase was concerned that the guy was using the stuff he injected into his patients. "What? About you? Nothing. Why do you ask?"
"Because you work for House, and he is doing Wilson!"
"Did you just say that Dr. House is doing Dr. Wilson? I strongly suggest you take that back mate!"
"You don't think I can drop a prissy little rich boy like you?"
"I think you're a bit of an idiot to threaten someone in front of your boss," Chase answered with a smile and charming tilt of his head. "Good afternoon Dr. Cuddy."
Dr. Lisa Cuddy's voice floated from behind Chambers. "Good afternoon Dr. Chase. Dr. Chambers? My office. Now!"
Chase spoke to Chambers' back, "Oh and Dr. Chambers? This 'prissy little rich boy' boxed while at the seminary. Any time you'd care to have a go mate."
Some twenty minutes later, Dr. Kevin Chambers emerged from the Dean of Medicine's office with a bit less of his ass, having had some of it chewed off. He was a nervous wreck. He kept waiting for Cuddy to announce that she had heard from McGill and that he was suspended pending the outcome of the investigation. He knew his career was in jeopardy. If Pope rolled over on him then all that was needed was for Wilson to corroborate the story. He could bring Pope down with him for aiding and abetting, but not Wilson because of the beating, and the threats of intimidation. While he was standing there lost in worry, two techs from the radiology department walked past him talking. "It's not true!" He shouted at them. They stopped and stared at him. The entire lobby stared at him. Then he saw a man's smirking face in the crowd. He marched over to the man who was leaning against a wall, right hand twirling a cane.
"That was quite a scene," the low gruff voice said. "Someone needs a nap, or a hug," House opened his arms in a mock invitation.
"You bastard! You did this to me."
"Did what?" House asked his voice saturated with innocence.
"You told everyone in this place that I am under investigation by McGill for academic fraud."
"I did? And how would I know that?"
"Because Wilson told you during pillow talk," he said maliciously.
House shrugged and said quietly, "Too tired. We usually just fall asleep afterward."
"You are doing Wilson!" Chambers declared as if this confirmation of the rumor was the salvation of his career.
"Nope, sorry," House smiled and then added looking Chambers seriously in the eye; "But if I was, I would be so proud that I would announce it over the hospital's PA system. Of course I wouldn't care who knew and the embarrassment factor to Wilson would make it fun for me." House chuckled to himself thinking of the look on Wilson's face if he ever tried a stunt like that. Maybe..? He stopped himself. Stay focused Greg. "So Wilson reported you to McGill?"
"No. Pope did," Chambers said without meaning to. He still couldn't believe it.
"Mark Pope? Good guy! I hear he teaches Ethics at Clemson now." House watched for Chambers reaction as he said this.
Chambers was lost in his own thoughts. "Ethics? That's surprising. He was the one who punched..." understanding dawned at last. "You set this up! That was you on the phone!"
"Qui."
"You son-of-a-bitch!"
"Yup. But I'm a son-of-a-bitch with a valid medical degree. Two of them as a matter of fact," House added not so modestly.
"The jokes over House. McGill never called, so I have a valid medical degree!"
"Your right. McGill didn't call; yet. I'm a little surprised you didn't wonder how I knew Mark Pope. Let me save you the trouble of asking. I spoke to him today, and he feels very remorseful for what happened with Wilson all those years ago. In fact he wants to make a complete confession."
"You're lying!"
"I never lie."
"Not about something like this he doesn't," came the voice of James Wilson, having quietly come up behind Chambers with Margie in tow.
Chambers whipped around startled by Wilson's voice. He realized that the three of them had set him up. His face was comical the way it altered between anger, anxiety, loathing, and what appeared to be a desperate need to heave.
"So," House said casually still leaning against the wall; "Here is the proposal. You go to your office and write up a nice little letter of resignation and place it on Cuddy's desk in an hour," he said. "Or you'll will be hearing from McGill. As will Dr. Cuddy."
Wilson walked over next to House and eyed Chambers unmercifully. "Oh give him ninety minutes because we are such caring people."
Margie joined her boss and his best friend. "I would be happy to check your grammar and spelling for you Dr. Chambers as you may not have had a lot of experience writing your own papers." She wore her sweetest smile her voice marinated with sarcasm.
"I won't do it!"
"Good for you," House declared. "Keep your integrity, and don't be too concerned about what having your degree and your license revoked will mean to your current lifestyle, and quite possibly your marriage. I understand the little woman really likes being a doctor's wife. After all, with your background you could be a ... nope, everything I can think of requires a valid degree of some sort. Well never mind. Lots of manual labor and blue collar jobs available."
Margie tilted her head at Chambers but addressed House and Wilson. "I'd recommend a secretarial position but as it has already been established that he can't write..."
"Shut up you bitch!"
House made a move toward Chambers, but Wilson got there first. He grabbed two handfuls of Chambers' lab coat and said in a very controlled and cool voice, "If you ever address her like that again, I will reach down your throat and give you a colonoscopy the hard way. Do I make myself clear?" He let go of Chambers with an added push for emphasis. "You have a paper to write, and you've just wasted ten minutes."
"Bring it to Wilson's office when you finish," House instructed firmly, his eyes St. Elmo's fire. "We'll look it over before it's delivered to Cuddy. You might want to start researching positions at other hospitals. Nothing in New Jersey though," House warned.
"Or New York or Connecticut," added Margie.
"Let's just keep the eastern seaboard off limits," Wilson suggested.
House nodded in agreement. "Try California. You could probably get set up with some cushy plastic surgery group and give injections to starlets. Hands off Carmen Electra though, she's mine!"
With a final furious glare at the three of them, Chambers walked away with all of the dignity he could muster.
"And that folks," House announced with a satisfied smile, "is how to catch a Weasel. Celebration time! Coffee and cookies in the cafeteria. Come Batgirl, Robin is buying." House linked his arm with Margie. She held her arm out for Wilson. He shook his head with affection and then took her arm. The three of them headed toward the elevator.
*
At 5:15 p.m. that evening Dr. James Wilson was in the parking lot of PPTH looking around in vain for some sign of Dr. Gregory House. They had agreed to meet after work and have dinner before going back to House's place to watch 'The L word' on tivo. His attention was drawn to his right when he heard an odd hissing sound. Sssssssssssssss. Wilson walked toward the sound with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Kneeling on the ground beside the front tire of a new red porche was Dr. Gregory House. Sssssssssssssss.
"What are you doing?" Wilson asked, a little half smile on his face.
"Safety check. These tires were dangerously over-inflated."
"They seem a little under-inflated now."
"Prevents excessive speed. Less likely to have an accident."
"Less likely to leave the parking lot."
"Thus preventing accidents!" House stated rolling his eyes exasperated that Wilson had failed to grasp the obvious benefit to the driver of this vehicle.
"Well, at least you didn't get 'jumped' for your troubles."
"Chambers is explaining his sudden urge to 'head west' to his staff."
House had moved to the other side of the porche and began letting the air out of the rear tire. Sssssssssssssssss.
"House?" Wilson said.
Sssssssssssssssss.
"House!"
House moved to the front tire on the passenger's side and loosened the cape on the valve.
"HOUSE!"
Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.
"GREG! That's not the Weasel's car!" Wilson hollered.
House's head popped up and his huge blue eyes froze on Wilson. "You said he drove a red porche."
"Greg, this is a hospital! Do you know how many doctors drive red porches?"
"So, whose car is this?" He asked closing his eyes and wincing.
"Personalized plate DNOMED." Wilson smiled and cocked his head.
"Quick, to the bat mobile!" House stood up wiping his hands on his jeans to remove the evidence of his tampering. "What are the chances that she won't assume it was me?"
"Less than zero." He indicated that Dr. Lisa Cuddy was walking toward them. "I'd advise that you run, but we both know that's not an option."
House cut his eyes at Wilson, before turning on the charm to the lovely lady walking up to them. "Dr. Cuddy! We were just about to call the auto club. It looks as if some med student played a prank on the dean. Probably did it on a dare," he said nodding with assurance.
She looked at the dark smudges on his jeans before closing her eyes and sighing. "You're probably right, and that prankster had better get the auto club here pronto before he earns himself two more weeks of clinic duty in addition to the two weeks I am assigning him right now!"
Wilson leaned over to House and said in a stage whisper, "Must be that 'guy holding the brick while standing next to the broken window' thing at work again. That seems to happen to you a lot." Wilson smirked.
House gave Wilson a death look while pushing the speed dial on his phone. "Hello, auto club? Would you send someone to the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital parking lot?" He looked at Cuddy's irritated expression, his eyes wide. "Hurry please it's an emergency!" Of course I'm sure. It's a matter of life and death! Who's? Mine! Hello? Hello?" House cringed as he asked Cuddy, "Can I call you a cab?"
"Yes," she answered sounding very forgiving. "Call a cab, and hand me your car keys." She held her hand out to him. "I have an appointment in twenty minutes with the University's governors." She wiggled her fingers. House reached into his pocket and withdrew the keys. She snatched them and hurried gleefully to the 'vette'.
Just when he thought House couldn't open his eyes any wider, Wilson was seriously concerned they might dislodge. They heard the door slam and the engine roar to life, followed by the 'pop' of the clutch and a grinding of gears that made both men cringe and groan.
"Oh!"
"God!"
The squeal of tires announced that 'the Dean had left the building,' so to speak.
Wilson began dialing a cab company. "So, Carino's for pizza then?"
"Fine...you pay."
"I'd better. I have a feeling your wallet is going to become the property of an auto mechanic soon."
"Wilson?"
"Yes House?"
"Shut up."
"Oh snap!"
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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