I gave this prompt to a friend. She didn't feel it would work and told me to write it. I did.
This is based in early Season 5, after Not Cancer.
Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: Unlike Shore, I see possibilities…Obviously not associated with him.
Well Played
"We need to take your blood," House declared as he threw open the door and entered her office unannounced.
Cuddy didn't look up from the file she was reading as she responded, "We need to schedule your brain scans."
House ignored her comment and continued. "Impaired judgment, sudden changes in behavioral patterns, difficulty sleeping, loss of appetite…"
"What do you want House?" she interrupted.
"We'll start with blood work and go from there," he said. "It could just be depression, or it could be brain cancer. Better to be safe."
"I don't have cancer," she blandly said. "But you do have a patient. Go run tests on her."
"Word in the cafeteria is that you skipped breakfast," he sat down in the chair in front of her desk as he continued. "The dark circles under your eyes say you're not sleeping, you haven't harassed me about clinic duty in two days – a radical change in your usual annoying behavior - and you are flattered by the romantic clichés and fumbled attempts at seduction from a very creepy guy – a clear statement of impaired judgment. You have a brain tumor."
Cuddy closed the file she'd been reading and placed her arms on her desk as she calmly addressed him.
"I had an early meeting with the Chairman of the Board, who bought me breakfast," she began to tick off her responses. "I stayed up late finalizing a report for said meeting. And, I know you're stalking Wilson, which is a disturbing reaction, but I'm actually hoping it will be a successful strategy in winning him over, thus I'm allowing you some time off from clinic duty."
House frowned. "That doesn't explain the flowers."
"Women like roses."
"You're not a woman." Cuddy rolled her eyes as she got up from her chair and started to move from behind the desk.
"So you keep telling me. Yet every day I see my lady parts in the mirror," she said as she came to stand in front of him, propping her hands on the arms of the chair as she leaned toward him. "And I can feel my lady parts while I'm showering, or getting dressed, or doing…other things."
His eyes dropped to her cleavage.
"What do you want, House?"
You.
He cleared his throat and forced his eyes back to her face.
"To save you from the desperate loneliness that appears to be overtaking you."
She gave a throaty laugh and stood up straight. "I'm lonely?"
"Obviously," he said. "Why else would you even be giving Lucas a second look?"
Her head tilted to the side as she grinned at him. "He's cute."
"Yeah, like a rabid muskrat."
Cuddy shook her head in amusement and leaned back against the desk, her legs stretched out and crossing at the ankles.
"He thinks I'm hot."
House sighed heavily. "Everyone thinks you're hot."
"Once they realize I'm a woman," she pretended to correct him. He feigned exasperation and began to toss his cane from one hand to another as he watched her.
She was hot. The way her pencil skirt molded her hips and the hem rode high above her knees, showed off her perfect legs. And that blouse she was wearing couldn't display those magnificent breasts any better. He could barely keep his eyes off her.
"He's a man-child hoping to get you in the backseat of his Pinto so he can blow his wad at second base."
Cuddy choked back a laugh. "What a lovely image."
"You know I'm right," he said. "You're going to be a laughing stock and that won't be good for your power plays with the board, or your manipulations of would-be donors."
"You're concerned about the hospital."
"Of course," he said. "I'm all about the greater good."
"A team leader."
"I'm glad you noticed."
"You're an idiot."
"I'm not the one turning to toxic goo over a dopey private investigator."
Cuddy chuckled as she turned away from him, walking toward the round table near the door. "No, "she said. "You're the one who's paying him to be your friend."
"I'm paying him to FOLLOW my friend," he corrected. "See the difference?" He stood to follow her, but she quickly turned to face him again, stopping him in his tracks.
"He's funny," she said. "I like him."
He liked him, too. Dammit!
"It's not going to work, Cuddy," House declared. "Leading on a guy that's so far beneath you is not going to make me jealous."
She laughed, and he felt his stomach tighten. That laugh of hers always did things to him.
"So this is about you?" Cuddy asked, crossing her arms in front of her.
House couldn't help but appreciate the way the gesture pushed her breast up high to accentuate her cleavage.
"It's always about me," he said. "You want me."
"I want sex."
His eyes widened at her words, and Cuddy shrugged. "What's the big deal?" She asked and turned again to begin gathering the files strewn across the table. "Who needs the hassles of dating and the expectations of relationships? That's just a pain in the ass. Why not skip all that and take care of the need? "
House was watching the movement of her heart shaped ass as she bent over the table. "You hire hookers, who are clearly intellectually and socially in a class far beneath you," she said, looking over her shoulder at him. "I'm just doing it without having to pay."
As she moved past him again, her arms filled with files, he couldn't tell if he was appalled or turned on by her words.
"You're using Lucas?" He said. "For sex?"
"Why not?" She appeared so nonchalant. "He's attractive enough, and interesting in a weird way. I certainly don't have to worry about falling for him. I'll just lay out the rules and take care of business. We both know he'll accept. It's simple."
Cuddy placed the files on her desk and looked back up at him, her expression clear and serious.
House stood up straighter and began to scratch his stomach, as he seemed to consider something on the ceiling. "I don't generally give out pity fucks," he said. "But since you're my boss and your debasement will affect the rest of the hospital, I'll take one for the team. I'll be over at eight."
"I'm not sleeping with you, House."
"I thought we were talking about sex."
"I'm not having sex you," she corrected.
"Well, not yet," he conceded.
"I'm looking for something less complicated."
"And by less complicated you mean someone not so devilishly attractive and easy to love."
She laughed again. His stomach did a somersault.
"I think I've started to understand your perspective," she said. "Make it a business arrangement. No chance of your lives intermingling or coming together in any way. Both parties agree to the terms, enjoy it and walk away. No harm; no foul. It's a great set-up, and I'm going to try it."
He hoped she couldn't tell he wanted throw up.
[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]
She was playing him.
House couldn't stop thinking about it. There was no way she was serious about using Lucas as her male hooker. That wasn't like her. Or was it?
She did like sex. And she was passionate. And she liked to be in control. She also had a dark side that most people didn't see. It was locked behind her professionalism, and was a complete contrast to the caring, empathetic, guilty woman that often reared her ugly, but strangely appealing head. But the bitch in her was alive and well, and lying in wait.
"Shit!" House said out loud. She was going to sleep with Lucas.
You're doing this for the same reason I'm doing this. We'll see who get there first. Lucas had tossed down the gauntlet, so cocky and sure of himself. House had almost laughed in his face. He was a friend, at least the closest thing he had to a friend since Wilson, but he was no match for this woman he'd set his eyes on. There was no way this guy could woo Lisa Cuddy. It had never occurred to House that he wouldn't have to woo her, that she'd sleep with him for baser reasons all her own! It was disgusting!
He was disgusting! This was exactly what he'd been doing for years. She was right. He paid for it, hiring hookers to fulfill a need, whereas she was proving to get all the dividends without any investment or financial leverage at all. She was a cold, calculating, business woman meeting her goals without any care for what others might think. She was sexy as hell, and he wanted her more than ever.
"Shit!" He uncapped the bottle of whisky with more force than necessary.
Something had shifted when he'd woke up in the hospital with her by his side. She'd been holding his hand. He'd been the reason for Amber's death. Wilson was gone. His world was in shambles. And she was holding his hand. She never left his side. He'd looked at her sleeping in that chair and knew he couldn't deny it any more. He wanted her. Not just her body. He wanted her. In his life. By her side.
No way is she sleeping with Lucas.
He couldn't stop thinking about it! The way she would stand naked before another man, her hands running along her body as she commanded his every move. She'd show him how to touch her, how to please her. She'd demand her pleasure and claim her orgasm. She'd be in charge; he'd be in heaven.
House was in hell.
Cuddy had been his fantasy for far too long for him to let this weasel touch her! There was no way he was going to allow Lucas to be her boy toy. Friend or not, there was no way Lucas would ever touch his woman!
House choked on the whiskey as he swallowed. His woman?
She was his boss, his nemesis, his fantasy, perhaps even his friend. But his woman?
He stared at the empty glass as the truth hit him. Yes. Lisa Cuddy was his woman. His woman. He couldn't keep sitting on the sidelines and pretending it wasn't true. He needed to claim her. He needed to make her see him as a man. Her man.
As the possessiveness rose within him, so did a sense of purpose and a clear focus.
The game was afoot.
[H] [H] [H] [H] [H]
"Low blood pressure, pelvic pain and anemia," Taub was reading from the chart.
"They're going to make a decision about expanding the surgical wing this week," House spoke as if he was in a trance. "There's probably a lot of number crunching and planning to prepare for that presentation."
The team stared at him blankly before Thirteen said, "Ectopic pregnancy."
"It would have shown up on the ultrasound," Kutner responded.
"We've ruled out Ovarian Cyst Torsion," Taub reminded them, but he was trying to find a way to make it fit. It seemed to make the most sense.
"He couldn't have gotten rid of them so fast," House mumbled. He'd arranged for over a dozen hookers to arrive at Lucas' apartment with clear instructions that he'd resist as part of a role playing game, but they were to be aggressive in their pleasuring. It wouldn't just prevent Lucas from meeting with Cuddy today, but it would drain him of all possible resources after those girls were done with him. There was no way he would get away without extreme exhaustion, if not a whipped dick! "So, where is she?"
"Where's who?" Taub asked, frustrated and confused.
"Cuddy," Thirteen answered, appearing bored and yet amused. "She's been MIA."
"Why isn't that good news? Don't we usually try to avoid her?"
"She was in Wilson's old office," Kutner said.
House jerked to attention, glaring at Kutner.
"I saw her when they were walking to the elevator," he explained.
Dammit! The one place he'd never check. Wilson's office. Wait!
"They?" House demanded.
Kutner stared at him wide-eyed. "She was with your PI friend," he said. "He was wearing a suit."
Thirteen was holding back her laughter as House jumped from his chair.
"When?"
"About 20 minutes ago."
He still had time to stop it.
"What about the patient?" Taub yelled as his boss rushed out of the office.
"It's typhoid," House yelled back. "Go. Treat."
He had to stop a train wreck.
[H] [H] [H] [H] [H]
He'd had him arrested.
Extreme, perhaps, but these were desperate times.
It was rather easy. Plant the pipe bomb in his bag and call an anonymous tip. The police identified him immediately. They knew him, had worked with him, but they had a job to do. They had to take him in for questioning. They had to investigate. They had to go through the process even if they didn't believe he was guilty. And that would take time. Time was all that was needed.
Meanwhile, House had managed to "create" emergencies in six different departments that required the immediate attention of the Dean of Medicine. She'd been running around all afternoon mediating, coordinating repairs, managing crisis and generally putting out fires. She'd hardly had a moment to breathe.
He'd watched her from a distance, monitoring her every move, measuring her expressions, evaluating her mood. She was frustrated, and flushed...and so beautiful. As he watched her leave the hospital earlier than usual, he felt confident she would be going home and crashing for the night. She'd probably call up one of her friends and spend the night bitching about her impossible employee. That was fine. She'd be thinking of him. She wouldn't be with Lucas. This meant he had a little more time to figure out how to navigate their twisted relationship in a direction that would be mutually satisfying for both of them. He had time to figure out how to open her eyes, to see him as an option. The attraction was there. There's no way she didn't feel it, too. She just needed to see him as more than a problem, more than a rogue lunatic. At least for the night, he had a little more time to plan a strategy. He felt satisfied with his successful day at the office.
That is until he learned Lucas was no longer at the station. He'd been seen picking up a large order from the Chinese restaurant not far from Cuddy's. House was frantic. Lucas would have an advantage. He'd bond with her over the impossible pranks as they bitched about their day. He'd probably try to help her relax. Lucas would be a good listener, letting her vent about all of the crap House pulled today, and how he didn't respect the challenges of her position. Lucas would pour her wine and fix her dinner plate. He'd probably even light some candles to set some kind of mood like a teenager in heat. Then he'd offer to massage her feet, or her shoulders, or her back…
By the time House stood at her door step, he'd worked himself into a frenzy. He was barely controlling the panic racing through him at the thought of Lucas touching Cuddy. The curtains were drawn, and he was reminded of the time he interrupted her date with that guy who owned the chain of lube garages. This time he didn't have a file and didn't need a consult. It was just him: the doctor who made her job a nightmare, and the man who made her life hell. He wanted it to be different. He wanted her to see him in a different light. But Lucas was right. Not only didn't she see it…she didn't even believe it was possible. After all he'd done today, he was sure she'd never give him a chance.
As he used his cane to knock on the door, he hoped he could come up with the right thing to say when she answered the door. Something that would salvage this mess. Something that would make her see him, really see him. Something that would turn the tides in his favor.
"You're kidding, right?" She sighed as she opened the door.
"Need your help," he quickly said.
"You don't need a consult."
"You don't need a hooker."
She seemed to snap to attention as his words. With a glance back into the living room, Cuddy stepped onto the porch with him, pulling the door closed behind her.
"You didn't come over here to discuss the merits of hookers."
"No," he agreed. "I came to see what you were wearing."
"Oh, good," she smiled. "Then we're done."
She moved to open the door and go back inside, and he knew he had to stop her. He reached out and grabbed her arm.
Cuddy gasped and stared at the hand cupping her elbow. House never touched her.
"You can't do this," he said. He thought he heard his voice crack. What the hell?
"Do what?"
His eyes searched her face for words, for answers.
"This is humiliating, Cuddy," he finally said. "You may get your rocks off tonight, but tomorrow you will have lost all respect and credibility."
"People don't care what I do behind closed doors."
"They will when it's on every bulletin board in the hospital and on the front page news," he explained.
She gave a half laugh. "I'm not a celebrity, House," she explained. "No one cares."
He stared at her, his eyes unyielding. The tension between them was mounting.
"You're threatening me?" She glared at him.
Before he could respond, the door opened behind Cuddy and a man stepped out. He was tall, about the same height as House, but with a larger build. His shoulders were wide and his biceps large enough to still be evident beneath his suit jacket. The jacket had quickly been put on, if the position of his collar was an indicator.
"You okay," he asked Cuddy. His voice held a hint of tenderness and concern.
"Fine," she said, but then frowned at him. "You don't have to leave."
He looked over at House, looking him over from head to toe before turning back to Cuddy. He arched a brow at her and she shrugged. House began to grind his teeth at their silent interchange.
"It's probably best," he said to her. She gave him a half-hearted smile and nodded as if they had some kind of understanding.
The man looked over at House, who glared coldly at him. Who the hell was this guy?
"Keith Stanton," he said, and stretched out his hand.
House took it, feeling the firm handshake and responding with a little more strength than necessary. "Greg House."
The guy carried himself with power and prestige. House could tell the suit was tailored, and his shirt was starched. If he had to guess, the shoes were Italian. None of this seemed to matter as much as the tie hanging out of his pocket, and the way his hair was mussed. House felt his throat tighten. Shit!
"Where's Lucas?" House asked Cuddy.
"I have no idea," she answered simply.
House was confused, but he caught a look of understanding and sympathy in the man's eyes before he returned his gaze to Cuddy.
Both men looked at her. There was no confusion there. No sympathy either. He recognized that sparkle. It was amusement. It was victory.
Keith cleared his throat.
"I waited a long time for this date," he said. "It's been an interesting night."
Cuddy gave him a saucy grin. House loved that grin.
"Why don't I call you later?" Keith said, and Cuddy smiled.
"That sounds great."
He leaned down and kissed her cheek before turning to House.
"Nice meeting you," he said. House didn't respond. Keith shook his head and bit back a chuckle. He was amused. What the hell was so funny?
House watched as the man awkwardly nodded and brushed past him to walk toward the street.
Cuddy watched him leave. House watched Cuddy.
She took a deep breath, crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame before looking up at him. That sparkle of victory was still shining in her eyes. She was relaxed, comfortable even, but the air around her was charged with power and control. House watched as the corner of her lip turned up in a knowing smile and he felt another punch in his gut.
"Lucas wasn't coming here," House finally said.
"No."
The pieces fell into place.
He leaned a little heavier on his cane.
"First date?" He asked.
She stared at him.
"You almost pulled it off," he said, working for a little more bravado than he felt.
"I did pull it off," she answered.
House squinted and made a clicking noise with his tongue. "Not really," he argued. "He left before you closed the deal."
Her grin didn't falter, nor did her eyes. She didn't back down, but continued to stare at him with that slightly amused grin.
"You focused on Lucas," she explained. "I had my date."
He looked down and nervously bounced his cane off the ground a few times. "You really like this guy?"
House was trying for shocked pity, but instead the question came out broken and shy.
Cuddy let out a sigh and moved toward him. House watched her carefully.
"I do," she said. But her hands were sliding slowly up his chest. "That's not really the point though, is it?"
House swallowed hard as she pulled him toward her. He could feel her breath mixing with his, her lips lightly graze his in a kiss that was less than a whisper.
"This is about you," she said, and slid her soft lips along the edge of his mouth. "And me."
House held his breath. She bit his lower lip.
He dropped his cane.
"You want me, House?" She asked.
She kissed him before he could respond, before he could restart his brain. His heart quickened, and the heat rose in his body. He felt the ache of his erection pushing against his jeans as her tongue explored the edge of his lips.
House reached for her, needing to pull her close, to hold her, to taste her.
But Cuddy pulled away. She reached for the door knob behind her, but never turned away from him. Her eyes were strong and unwavering as she stood confidently before him.
"You need to man-up, House," she said. "It's going to take more than pranks and games to make this happen."
She arched a brow at him and opened the door. "Good night," she mouthed the words just before she stepped away and closed the door behind her.
House stared at the door. His lips were tingling, his heart pounding. His pants felt three sizes too small…and he wanted to laugh.
Well played, he thought. Well played.
He didn't give himself time to think. That's what got him into trouble with her. It was time to act.
He pounded on the door with his fist.
She flung the door open.
He didn't give her a chance to speak, but quickly moved inside and slammed the door behind him. He thought she was about to speak, or it could have been a laugh. He didn't know. He pushed her up against the wall of the entry and sealed his lips over hers. His tongue was slow, licking, savoring, gently yet fiercely devouring her in a way that left her legs weak. He wrapped his arms around her and she arched into him. One of her hands gripped his arm as the other ran through the hair at the nape of his neck. One of his hands dropped to cup her ass and pull her snuggly against his erection.
They both moaned.
"You're not wearing anything under this robe," he spoke in a voice filled with awe and torture.
She gave a throaty chuckle and moved away from him, pulling at his jacket as she stepped backward down the hall. "You're overdressed," she answered with a suggestive grin.
He responded with a look of lechery that left her panting and wet.
"Not for long," he promised.
He was a man of his word.