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  The Great Minion Adventure 
 by Katling  

 Author Note: This fic came as a result of a series of very silly posts
from this discussion
(http://community.livejournal.com/house_slash/120827.html) on LiveJurnal
about the origin of the term "ducklings". I felt the need to make a story
out of it. It is totally, utterly and completely AU!

House limped into his office, resolutely ignoring the three doctors in the
conference room, and collapsed into the chair behind his desk. He'd spent
the entire morning in the clinic dealing with increasingly whiny children
and their increasingly whiny parents, Cuddy was after his blood and quite
possibly his first born children for something he hadn't quite worked out,
Wilson was surprisingly and disappointingly absent and the humid, muggy
weather was making his leg play merry hell. Thankfully, he'd walked into
his office this morning to find a full bottle of Vicodin sitting on his
desk courtesy of the aforementioned missing Wilson and he gratefully
swallowed two of the white pills and hoped that would be enough to allow
him to see out the day...or at least the next few hours.

He grabbed his iPod and slowly lowered himself onto the floor. He put the
headphones on, started up the music and closed his eyes as the insistent
starting melody of The Who's Baba O'Riley belted out. He sighed in
satisfaction and closed his eyes, not even noticing when he dropped off to
sleep.

He was startled awake by the sound of a distant roar and he scrambled to
his feet, somehow not finding it at all odd that he was now wearing
slightly tarnished silver armour overlaid with a blue surcoat emblazoned
with a crossed cane and small bottle and had a large sword strapped to his
waist. He grabbed his cane and limped out into the conference room where
his loyal minions sat idling the hours away.

Foreman sat closest to him, resplendent in his black enamelled armour and
black surcoat. A fierce mace sat propped against the table near him and a
set of lockpicks rested near his hand. Chase sat opposite Foreman, his
silver armour gleaming in the overhead lights and the emblem of the Order
of the Wombat proudly displayed on his surcoat. He was idly shining his
long sword and looked up curiously as House entered the room. Cameron also
looked over as House limped in; she was garbed in a flowing gown of the
purest white silk and carried the implements of one learned in the healing
arts. Her face glowed with kindness and the desire to aid those in pain.

House let his gaze rest fondly on his loyal minions. What trials they had
been through together! What hardships they had endured! And yet they had
always won through.

"Come, minions!" he said with a wry grin. "We must wreak havoc within the
hospital. But beware the Cuddy for she lurks with evil intent!"

Chase sprang to his feet, sheathing his sword with a ringing note. "An
excellent idea, my Lord House! We have not wreaked havoc for some time and
we grow weary of this idleness."

"'Tis about time we had some task laid before us," Foreman grumbled,
picking up the lockpicks and tucking them into a small pouch at his waist.
He then picked up the mighty mace and slung it over one shoulder.

"But, my Lord House, where is your boon companion?" Cameron asked, her
kind eyes filled with worry and gentle concern as she stood. "Surely you
will not venture out without the gentle and noble Lord Wilson by your
side?"

House's brow furrowed as he looked around. "Forsooth, this is true. But
where is he? Where is my boon companion? For I have not yet laid eyes upon
him on this day. That he is here within the hospital is certain for he
left a kind and timely gift for me this morn."

"Let us venture forth in search of Lord Wilson, my Lord," Cameron said
gently, gesturing to Foreman and Chase. "Sit you down and rest while we
search, for your labours have been many and hard this fine day."

House sat down in a chair at the table. "I am wearied by my labours, it is
true. I shall rest here while you search. Go, my minions. Find my boon
companion for I desire his company and wily humour."

Foreman and Chase bowed deeply while Cameron curtsied prettily and the
three minions boldly ventured out into the hospital. House waited
impatiently for them, for in truth he was worried. It was all but unheard
of for his gentle friend to be so absent. When his loyal minions finally
returned he stood and braced himself against his cane.

"Well?" he demanded as his minions walked in. "What news?"

"Terrible news, my Lord House," Chase said, his eyes filled with worry.
"Lord Wilson has been captured. He had ventured out in search of
sustenance for you and was returning armed with beer and pizza when he was
waylaid. He is imprisoned beyond the clinic, guarded by the terrible
Cuddy."

House's expression became intent and he drew his sword with his free hand.
"Come, minions!" he called nobly. "Onward to the clinic! For there lies
much anguish and torment and troubled waters that we must somehow
traverse. But minions, should we prevail then our rewards shall be great.
For Wilson lies beyond the bane of the clinic and he shall have beer and
pizza!"

Foreman let out a mighty battle cry as he swung his great mace around.
Chase cheered with sparkling excitement as he drew his sword and clashed
it against his Lord's. Cameron clutched her hands together in front of her
bosom and sighed prettily. She viewed the men before her with admiration
and concern and prayed that Lord Wilson would be alright for Lord House
would be most distraught if he was harmed.

House and his minions swept out of the Diagnostic Medicine conference room
and charged down the hall, House's limping rhythm setting the pace. Those
in their path shrank aside and watched with wonder as House led his team
through the hospital.

They slowed as they approached the glass doors of the clinic and saw the
masses of humanity that swarmed beyond. House steeled himself and his
minions followed suit then they pushed the doors open and charged in. The
mass of humanity swarmed towards them and quickly surrounded them.

"Back! Back, you germ-ridden, feeble-minded loons!" House growled as he
laid about him with his cane. "Take two aspirin and slink back to your
lairs! Cameron! Smother them with niceness! Foreman! Steal their wallets!
Chase! Stop acting like a small, furry wombat! The horizon is in sight and
Wilson awaits."

As House continued to beat off the mass of humanity with his cane, Cameron
darted to and fro smiling and caring, sending the people running. Foreman
wielded his might mace with terrible precision and his lockpicks with
agility. Chase cowered for a moment then crept up to aid his fellows.

Finally the mass of humanity fell back and slowly, ever so slowly fell to
their knees, their foreheads resting on the ground in submission. House
raised his cane and let out a mighty cry.

"Huzzah, minions!" he cheered. "We have conquered the clinic and all
within now do bow down to our greatness." A tremendous bellow rang out and
House froze momentarily. "But lo! What is that which lurks beyond, barring
our way to Wilson? Horrors! It is the Cuddy!" His minions drew back in
fear and House rallied them with his words. "Nay, minions! Do not cower
before her dreadful flame. Do not tremble at her terrible rage. We shall
prevail, minions, if we do but stand firm."

The great Cuddy lumbered out to confront them, roaring and belching flame.
House gathered his minions to him and began issuing orders.

"Foreman! Make rude and insinuating remarks that give rise to doubts about
my professionalism! Cameron! Fill out those forms...in triplicate! That
shall distract the rampaging Cuddy and allow us safe passage."

As Foreman and Cameron charged forward, movement from beside him drew his
attention and he saw that the young and impressionable Chase had fallen to
his knees, shaking in fear and indecision. House took his young protg's
arm and drew him to his feet.

"Nay, young Chase," he said with kind amusement. "Fall not to your knees.
Rise and stand firm. Do not doubt thyself. Thy betrayal is in the past and
should but stand firm now, it shall be forgotten."

The young minion stood firm next to his lord and proudly proclaimed his
loyalty. As they watched the tactics House had devised began to work. The
fearsome Cuddy became distracted and concerned and soon began to retreat
towards her lair.

House beamed at his young charges. "Come, minions! The Cuddy has been
distracted by our wily ploys. Let us make our break for Wilson!"

House limped forward as rapidly as he could, his loyal minions following
behind him. They burst through the outer doors to the clinic and found a
concerned and frustrated Wilson standing in the clearing beyond. A table
stood behind him, laden with beer and pizza.

"House!" Wilson called with relief. "I feared that the Cuddy would be too
great even for you and your loyal minions."

House strode forward and clasped his boon companion in a fierce embrace.
"Never, my friend! We would have faced dangers far greater than the Cuddy
to return you to your place at my side."

"House?" Wilson said almost urgently.

House frowned. "My friend, what ails you? Do you not see that I stand
before you?"

"House!" Wilson repeated, his tone almost one of fear.

House was about to question his boon companion once more when he felt a
strange darkness creep up on him and then he knew nothing.

"House, please. Come on, Greg. Don't do this to me. Wake up!"

House groaned and slowly pried his eyes open. He blinked a few times to
clear his vision and found Wilson's worried face looming over him.

"What the hell?" he groaned, his voice raspy and hoarse.

"That's what I want to know," Wilson replied. "What happened? Foreman came
and found me. He said you wouldn't wake up and were convulsing slightly."

House groaned as he tried to sit up. Wilson helped him with careful hands
then the oncologist picked the bottle of Vicodin up from the desk.

"How many did you take?" he asked worriedly.

"Just two," House replied, clutching his pounding head. He looked around
to find Foreman, Chase and Cameron standing on the other side of the desk,
looking concerned while Cuddy stood in the doorway, a worried frown on her
face.

"Just two," House repeated. "Gave me strange dreams."

"I'm having them checked," Wilson replied firmly, shoving the bottle into
the pocket of his lab coat. "You shouldn't have been convulsing after
taking two Vicodin." He paused and looked curiously at his friend. "What
do you mean 'strange dreams'? What did you see?"

House looked at the doctors gathered in his office and began to snicker.
"You'd never believe me if I told you."  
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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 Fox Television, 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.