Search for Perfection
(Re-written and Re-posted)
Author: angcatalonan
TV Show: House, M.D.
Pairing: Cuddy/House (Huddy + someone, at some point).
Timeline: After "Who's Your Daddy" until maybe a few episodes from season 3 (in the later part of the story). Well, since I am re-writing it, there's a great chance that there will be changes in the timeline… when I see it fit.
Summary: Back then, Cuddy graduated second in her class in med school. Someone is better than her and that someone is her ex-boyfriend missing in action for 13 years. Just when everything is as predictable as she wanted, he came back offering her another chance at love. She's taken aback with shock so is House because all of a sudden everything about his relationship with Cuddy has restrictions and they both know that things are going to change as decisions has to be made.
Disclaimer: I am Bryan Singer and I hate myself for letting the X3: Last Stand go for the love of Superman Returns. I am Hugh Laurie and the charismatic Dr. House who is so damn good in imitating an American accent. I am Lisa Edelstein that owns a great butt that even James Bond will have his share of sleepless nights and bed wets.
Claimer: Cuddy's Dream Boy here is actually my Dream Boy; I am just lending him to her.
CHAPTER 1
The Anticipation of the Last Donor Applicant
GREGORY HOUSE managed to dodge every Lisa Cuddy sighting he had since early morning. He knew that once she caught him lurking the corridors, she would instantly kill him with all the lectures about him having to behave well at work, about renting a formal attire, and attending the upcoming party for the new hospital contributor/sponsor. He couldn't care less to another human being with a blood almost as similar in color of those with Vogler even if he had a lot of bucks in his petty pocket. Having had met one Vogler in his lifetime was more than enough, he thought to himself.
A charitable institution from a wealthy business firm from EurAsia was willing to invest a whole lot of money for the nuclear research department of the hospital, according to Cuddy. It was also, "blindly willing to walk a fine line even with flames in it" to sponsor House in all of his "innovative and radical means" of diagnosing and coming up with a treatment for his patients. That was when she ended up not only managing the hospital and the college (as usual) but also planning a ball for the representative of the firm for a fine-dine welcome party in the coming weekend.
He walked past a few third year med students in the hall on his way to the cafeteria when he found Cuddy lecturing one of them in the nurse's station with the patient's chart on her hand. Confident that she would be so drawn on educating idealistic doctors of the future and that she would not be able to catch him watching her, he leaned on the wall directly adjacent to her side.
Cuddy suddenly turned and pointed one of her fingers to the intravenous fluid hanging by the side of the sleeping patient on the room across the hall. She breathed out words barely recognizable to House as he focused on the fine lining of her lips while she speaks. The poor student tried to answer her nagging questions regarding the patient's case and the present course of treatment. She nodded her head approvingly as the student answered and then mentioned the importance of hydration when a nurse from behind Cuddy asked for her attention. She excused herself from her student and turned to the newcomer. The nurse offered her a brown envelope and she immediately accepted it as if she already knew its content.
House's curiosity was aroused by Cuddy's reaction when she opened it. In the envelope was another white envelope in which after Cuddy had read the address of whom it was from, she dismissed the class and stormed off heading for the elevator.
House thought of it strange for Cuddy to do just that because after looking at his watch he realized that it was only one and a half hour before 12. Meaning, it was too early for Cuddy to dismiss her class not even near to the time of their lunch break.
House's curiosity reached such a defining level that he forgot that he intend to stay away of Cuddy's eyeshot when he called out her surname instinctively. It was so loud that almost everyone on the floor took the time to glimpse at him.
For sure, Cuddy knew who it was even before she turned around to face him. She stared at him blankly and waited for him to speak again when the elevator door opened. She turned to get on it not waiting for him when he shouted again.
"I'm sorry for falling asleep without even starting foreplay last night, ok? I said I'm sorry!" House shouted from across the floor.
Cuddy's eyes narrowed in disdain. She was shocked and embarrassed that she waited on him to get on the elevator so that she could smack his face with her fist. House took the time she gave him to catch up as he limped his way cautiously to the elevator. All the students and floor nurses gazed at them as if waiting for World War III to break off.
"Need to talk to ya," he said right after the doors shut close.
"You should have just said that," she said. Cuddy, still in disbelief of the humiliation, stared at House for the nonsense he pulled. God knows how she fought heaven and hell not to commit murder at that time.
"How's my party doing? My tux will be delivered in your office before 6PM today." House declared as if what he did wasn't a big deal.
She did not stop throwing him daggers with her stare. She glared and glared hoping that it would be enough to kill him without her having to touch him. She remained quiet and extremely angry while House thought it cute when he pisses Cuddy off and he knew she was so mad to think of a witty comeback.
"What? You have not invited my hooker? She is my gift to Mr. EurAsia Firm Rep's first night. Very irresponsible!" He said in a childish manner.
"Uh, shut up!" Cuddy said sharply. She was obviously losing some of the violence she was trying so hard to restrain. House smiled to himself but kept quiet. He knew that he should fear for his life, being boxed in on an elevator with her and all.
"So that is how you treat the benefactor-magnet of this hospital!" House said after a while. He knew he couldn't be quiet for a long time. But Cuddy came back to her quiet and deeply angry façade, so he decided to find more buttons for him to push, "Is that my new law suit?" pointing his lips to the envelope on her hand. "Who is it this time?" He continued ans he tried to reach for it.
"Not yours," she snapped, pulling the envelope away from his grab-range.
"Yours? You are being sued?" He asked with a face of a twelve-year-old exaggerating a bull question when the elevator door opened.
Cuddy's eyes narrowed again. The thought of House's blood dripping to the floor and splattered on the metal wall of the elevator was just so tempting that she immediately stepped out as she spoke: "Never going to happen. The suing and the---" she paused as she lunged to face him from the other side of the elevator door and mouth motioned "---sex" as it slowly closed House in it from the sides.
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WILSON was in the cafeteria food line when House appeared in the doorway. The day had been casually strange because a lot of Cuddy's third year med students were scattered all around the hospital. The food line was actually longer than usual and his lunch was taking more time than it should. House made his way to him in the food line and positioned himself behind him but in front of one of the first year ER resident. The resident moaned in contempt. That was when House faced him.
"Where is your esophagus?" he asked. It was Wilson's turn to moan.
"Right from my mouth down my hungry stomach," said the resident throwing House an I'm-not-an-idiot stare.
"What part of the heart is affected if I have a heart burn?"
"Go to the OPD Clinic if you need a consult. There is a Dr. House in there, quite good, so I've heard but narcissistic." The resident answered.
"No. It's an emergency; I went to the ER and found the ER doctor in the canteen. " House replied wondering if the young, new doctor knew who he was.
"Go, get yourself an ECG. I'm on a break." The resident answered annoyingly.
House rolled his eyes as if saying you-think-you're-not-an-idiot-but-you-are. "Idiot. Heartburn is pyrosis." He said it as if everybody knows it.
"I know that. I'm the doctor."
"So what part of the heart? This chest pain is killing me…" House said gracing the statement with some acting. Wilson chuckled.
"The ventricles---"He said then turned on the woman in the counter, "I want some lasagna, extra size, supreme cheese…"
House rolled his eyes, again. "Should I get myself some Digoxin, Dr. Moronic?" The resident's eyes snapped at him with that, he couldn't believe that the stranger just called him Dr. Moronic.
"Greg…" Wilson whispered forcefully on House, wishing him to stop making a scene.
"No. Get yourself first an ECG. I know what I'm doing. I went to med school," the resident snorted.
"Yeah, I know that but sadly I went to med school too. And as I've heard heartburn IS pyrosis and both is GERD. Gastro-Esophageal Reflux D-something. Look that up on a book, moron." House said as he was taking up the lasagna that was handed down to the resident. He took the fork and made a slice. While bringing slices after slices to his mouth as he explained: "It is usually an effect of pregnancy as the belly gets bloated,"—chewing— " the sphincter is being forced to open and the acidic gastric content,"---chewing---" from the stomach makes its way back to your esophagus. Since---" ---chewing--- "your esophagus is aligned in the pathway of your heart the symptom is chest pain described," ---chewing--- "with a burning feeling thus came the term, heartburn."
"Who the hell are you?"
"I am a doctor. I am not pregnant and I don't have GERD." He walked out after putting the empty lasagna plate in the resident's tray.
Wilson sighed. "Sorry, Dr. Santos. He is such an egoistic, narcissistic bastard." Then he turned away immediately from the line after he got his own tray of food.
"What was that?" Wilson asked House after taking some distance from the crowd near the food counter and occupying a seat near the window.
"What a shame! Cuddy taught those med studs and when they take on their duties they end up not even knowing GERD." House said, slightly hinting that he actually wanted to talk to Wilson about Cuddy.
"If you want to talk about Cuddy just tell me. Wait, what's with all the gossip about you falling asleep during sex or someth---"
But House cut him out, "She received a letter in an envelope after she had seen whom it was from, she acted weird. Any idea what it was all about? "
"How would I know what is in a paper kept in an envelope delivered directly to her?" Wilson asked, obviously confused.
"She asked you out once. On a date, you know." House said it as if it was in any way related.
"Your point being?"
"You must know something..."
"Well, sorry to disappoint you, buddy, I know nothing," Wilson said while chewing on his bacon and cheese burger.
"You must know something." House insisted.
"I told you, I don't know---"
"You must know something," more of like an order than a question.
"Uh, no—why are you looking at me like that?"
House looked at him with puppy-like begging eyes.
"No, I'm not telling 'coz I really don't know anything." Wilson vehemently declared.
House looked at him this time with a threatening glare.
"Nope."
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CUDDY was sitting in front of her coffee table when she opened the envelope. This is just unbelievable, she thought.
She once again stared at the information of the latest sperm donor profile sent to her. This man's IQ is just high. It's impressive. He's about my age, took up med school from where I took it, graduated about the same time that I did. Only thing that gave him away was his ranking when he graduated.
First. He was First in his class in the University of Michigan about thirteen years ago. He took up his specialization of Cardio-Thoracic Surgery in Ateneo de Manila and had his protege training in the Heart Center of the Philippines. I think I know this guy. But it can't be him… Why would he…?
She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't feel someone enter her office until Wilson cleared his throat. She almost jumped out of her seat in surprise only to realize that he was now a few inches from where she sat.
"I want to ask your opinion…uhm… about-ah-something…" Wilson stammered.
She returned the file back in the envelope as she composed herself to becoming the unbreakable hospital administrator and Dean of Medicine once again. "On what?" she asked.
"Uhm---Digital Rectal Exam?" Wilson vaguely shot a glimpse out of Cuddy's office where House was supposed to be watching. Must be enjoying this, Wilson thought.
"I'm sorry but last time I checked you're an Oncologist." Cuddy was somewhat taken aback with suspicion, "Seriously, what is this about?"
"I---uh---wanted to know something about milking the---uhm---prostate…" he said uncomfortably glimpsing again outside. Only right now he found no one at House's supposed-to-be position.
Cuddy shook her head as if getting where this farce was going while Wilson bit his lower lip.
"If you're about to ask me about having House in my bed last night like he said before I entered the elevator door, it is so not true. The moment he said that is the moment he ruined my day---"
"I did not!" House shouted entering Cuddy's office with a bang on the door. "Your day is ruined by that envelop you're keeping in your lap! I hate people blaming me for things I did not do."
"Yeah, I forgot. Teen-agers have this crisis according to Erik Erikson about identity versus role confusion," Cuddy barked back rising from her chair. "You are being confused on where you stand in my life. I'm still your boss, you know."
"Oh! And there is this according to the same psychosocial theorist you mentioned a crisis called generativity versus stagnation for old people in age bracket you are in."
"Aherm!" Wilson gambled, risking his life in breaking into the cold psychoanalytical war. "Sorry for having to ask about the rectal exam---"
"I am soo not stagnant." Cuddy said indignantly.
House shot back as immediately, "You are soo old!"
Cuddy's face turned to bright red up until her ear. Wilson grabbed House's arm forcefully to make him understand that they really should go.
But it wasn't enough to make him shut up, House continued. "I am so not going in your party. There is not enough hotdogs there to make me happy!"
"You can go to hell for all I care!"
"Gotta go!" Wilson insisted. "The man in exam room two is freezing with his pants down. Lubricant must've dried out already…" dragging House's shirt desperately.
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IF Wilson had been alive around 1945, he must have had a ground for comparison of which was far more explosive: the Pearl Harbor Bombing signaling the beginning of World War II in Asia or the House-Cuddy Turmoil just a few moments ago.
He considered himself again, for the ninth time, as the exorcist who was unable to drive the devil away. "I never should have asked about the rectal exam…"
"Like for the eighty-fourth time, you never should've looked at me from the inside of her office," House said not even lifting his gaze from the laptop computer on his office table.
"I never should have asked about the rectal exam…" Wilson unconsciously repeated.
"Stop whining! It's Cuddy. Tomorrow you are forgiven. Actually, just later she would already forget about it. The day after tomorrow it would feel like it never happened. The woman is as resilient as a bamboo tree and as forgiving as the heavenly Father, " House said, hoping that Wilson will stop repeating that phrase.
"I NEVER SHOULD HAVE ASKED ABOUT THE DAMN RECTAL EXAM!"
Chase, Cameron and Foreman from the other room glimpsed at their direction. House drove his swivel chair near the glass pane and pulled the Venetian Blinds close.
Then, House leaned on to where Wilson was sitting and then told him, "Look, it wasn't really that bad. We got something."
"You got something. I, on the other hand, have an ass to save every time we come across each other. I got to kiss Cuddy's ass in the next two weeks for my new Oncology ward play pen, you know."
"Well, I'm the Messiah. I will save you from the fires of hell." House said, dramatically.
Wilson brought his hands to his face desperately, "With you is hell…"
"The name is Dr. Thorne Adham, a well-traveled Cardio-Thoracic Surgeon. Graduated first in his class in med school. Millionaire in every currency, family-acquired. Practiced mostly in Asian countries and traveled all around the world for conventions, speaking engagements and the like. Given some humanitarian sort of award four times in a row almost every year."
Wilson straightened from his seat, "Where the freakin' hell did you get that?"
"Cuddy's table." House said triumphantly.
"When?" Wilson asked again, still as confused as before this conversation started.
"Remember when she threw me some Erikson thories? Caught a glimpse at the paper. Something with the words Michigan, Medicine, Top Notcher around 13 years ago. What had me was the very superior IQ. Led me directly to him."
"You insulted Cuddy to get this?" Wilson said as he shook his head. "We know his name, so?"
"I don't want him around in my hospital."
"Technically, this is Cuddy's hospital. I mean, not as if she owns it or something---"
"What I'm so curious about is that what are his files doing in Cuddy's table? Why did she acted weird after being handed down with the information?"
"I don't know. But I really never should have asked about the rectal exam. I should have asked something else!" Wilson said as if coming back to his senses.
"My hundred bucks says he's the benefactor representative from EurAsia." Why would he want to sponsor me? To totally ruin me? I hate reunions, House thought to himself.
"My hundred bucks says he's a sperm donor," Wilson said in a vain attempt to portray sarcasm, "who actually wants to get back with Cuddy."
Wilson could almost swear he saw a light bulb lit up on House's head like that in cartoons. House got some realization from what he had said, obviously. The same realization suddenly got into him.
Bastard, House hissed.
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HOUSE sat himself down at the edge of the hospital roof top, with his cane dangling on his side. He thought of Cuddy and Adham's possible offspring if ever Wilson's idea was correct. Cuddy's height, personality and eye color was perfect. Adham's IQ, nose bridge and complexion being tan was just as perfect. Cuddy's celebrity standing in the medical profession and Adham's powerful wealth were factors to add up in a life of perfection.
Where does that leave me? He grasped for breath. What did I just say?
"Hypothetically, you met someone in your life that is so perfect that you wanted her to be yours---" Cuddy's voice bore through his solitude. He didn't look at her standing behind him though he felt her there. He can smell the scent of her perfume: Burberry, and unconsciously drown himself in it.
When he did not let out a rejecting retort Cuddy decided to continue,"Everything that she could ever do and say will only prove to you that she's all that you could ever want. Then, you'd have a loving history together but realized that things just won't turn out right. She's perfect but you're too imperfect and you felt like you were dragging her down to your level. You would want her to be happy, so you let her go."
House stared down to the ground from the top of the building resisting the temptation to look at Cuddy as she paused to collect her thoughts. He fought hard not to stare at all the perfection she owns that he knew and won't admit.
Cuddy breathed out and was about to say something when House spoke, "No one is perfect Cuddy. There's no such thing."
"I know, but---" she said, paused then continued, "oh, quit it, you know what I mean…"
"You know what? Yeah, I know what you mean." House said as he grabbed his cane and tried to stand. He knew that she really wanted to talk to him about Thorne but he didn't really want to go there right now. What she was saying bothered him because if only he would change her pronouns in her hypothetical situation he would find himself pondering the same things she did.
Only in his thoughts, she would be perfect and he would be the imperfect person who would drag her down to his level if ever he would attempt to pursue her. Even just the thought of it elicited the feeling of guilt on him already, though he knew he'd never admit that to anyone even to himself at some time.
Cuddy felt as if their conversation reached a dead end. House sounded as if he didn't want to continue having this conversation with her. She was about to tell him about Thorne and her possible acceptance of his sperm donation on her desired pregnancy. But then, he didn't seem open to it. So she decided to keep it to herself and slowly stepped back going to the door. Maybe she'd try talking to Wilson about it instead.
"Hey, Cuddy!" House called out, "Go home. Get some sleep. I don't want my date for the weekend's party to have a week-pounds of black bags under her eyes. Don't embarrass me in front of my fans. Okay?"
Cuddy stopped and turned to House's direction, "I thought you're not coming?"
"What? And miss all the tender juicy hotdogs? Besides, you had just apologized to me begging me on your knees to escort you to the ball, who am I to not succumb to that invitation?"
Cuddy just smiled, shook her head and walked out as she said, "Don't tell anyone I begged you to come. No one would believe you."
"Wilson would." House said, waiting for her comeback.
"No. Wilson wouldn't." She said as the metal door shut close.
P.S. This is my first fic ever written in this site since my registration around 3 years ago so pls be kind. No flames and fumes, criticisms are welcome. And forgive my grammar, English is just a second language. I am very good though in Tagalog (language in the Philippines used mostly in the metro Luzon). Please review so I will have the drive to get on with the story. No good deed will go unrewarded; the good Lord will bless and keep you. Yay! (2006)
Well, since its re-written I would still ask for your opinion whether its better than the first one or if you have any suggestions. Please do review. Do it anonymously if you want to. Just be nice. No flames.