A/N: So here is the final chapter. I'm sure I probably could have continued and done chapters about how the new ducklings adjusted, but I've got one other project in the works & ideas for at least two more floating around in my head, so I'm ending it here, with the hiring process complete. Thanks very much for reviewing, I'm thrilled with the response this story got.

Disclaimer: If I owned House, this is how Season 4 would start out. But I don't, so we'll just have to trust TPTB.

Chapter 9

And Then There Were These Five

A month had passed since the last of House's fellows had earned her name. It had taken nearly the entirety of the thirty days for the gossip about 'Survivor: House' to die down. An extra chair for the conference room table had been requisitioned and delivered. Three patients had been fought over, poked, prodded and interrogated before begin diagnosed and ultimately healed. Things were finally approaching what passed for normal in House's world.

He and Wilson were seated in the cafeteria, discussing the weird night janitor's new propensity for stacking urinal cakes to resemble the Tower of Pisa. House's team, on the rare occasion when they were between patients and House's clinic hours were up to date, were seated at a nearby table eating lunch together.

House was barely suppressing a grin while Wilson was relating the tale of his dressing down when the janitor had found he'd urinated on his latest creation, the Washington Monument. He was wondering how exactly the janitor had sculpted the urinal cake to form the peak at the top when Cuddy walked into the cafeteria. The barely-there grin disappeared as she began walking in House's direction.

"I have the final paperwork from Human Resources for your team. 401k and that sort of thing. You're sure you're keeping all five of them?" Cuddy asked. She'd been surprised that he'd kept so many on staff; just a few years ago she'd had to badger him into hiring a third fellow.

"Yup, made them sign a contract in blood and everything."

"How Faustian of you," Cuddy said dryly. She turned to walk over to the fellow's table but then turned back. "Why five?"

House sighed. "It had to be some sort of astrological phenomenon that lost me three fellows in two weeks. But just in case Wilson's right and it's me, I figured I'd pad my numbers a bit. This way I can still go on a rampage and fire them off two at a time. It could be years before I have to sit through interviews again."

Cuddy just rolled her eyes and made her way to his fellow's table. Wilson watched her go and then turned to House, who was already re-engrossed in his sandwich.

"Why do you feel the need to torture her?"

"Because it's fun," House answered through a mouthful of corned beef.

Wilson shook his head and speared a tomato from his salad. Mid-way to his mouth Wilson's fork stopped. He lowered back to his plate and looked at House.

"No it's not. Well, yes it is, but that's not why you did it. You're annoyed with her," Wilson said.

"For double checking that I'm not firing someone?" House asked.

"She asked the wrong question," Wilson said. House rolled his eyes and Wilson triumphed internally. He knew he'd been right.

"Pray tell, Dr. Wilson, what's the right question," House snarked.

"Not why five. Why these five," Wilson said.

House smirked. Wilson knew him too well. "So, why these five?" House turned the question back on his friend.

"Well Craig is obvious," Wilson began.

"Maybe not as obvious as Cuddy, but still worth a look," House interjected.

"Yes, well …" Wilson blushed and cleared his throat. "What I meant was, she twisted the rules, went behind your back and tested the patient without permission to get her diagnosis. She wanted to solve the puzzle more than she wanted to kiss your ass. You like that."

House nodded. "And Watson?"

"He's got balls, correcting your grammar like that, but he also knew enough to do it privately," Wilson said. "He's smart, but just afraid of you enough to be flattering."

"Mitchell?" House queried.

"Mitchell, right. He's naturally observant. Good quality in your line of work and not an easy one to teach," Wilson noted. "Emery handed you all his personal information so you'd lose interest. He gets what motivates people, which means he'll be able to see what they're willing to lie about."

"And Duncan?" House asked.

"Duncan. Yeah," Wilson hedged. "I know he won the tournament, which means he's stubborn and doesn't want to be outdone, but I'm not sure that's enough for you."

House smirked again. Wilson really was getting good at this. House turned in his seat and watched as Emery excused himself. Mitchell and Watson began clearing up their places while Craig was carrying a few trays to the busing area. Duncan remained at the table and pulled out at thin book from his lab coat pocket.

"He's reading the Misanthrope," House said.

Thanks for reading & I'd love to hear your thoughts on what Duncan reading the Misanthrope says about him!