Vice-- a physical defect, flaw, or infirmity; a physical defect or weakness.
Disclaimer: is this really necessary?
Summary: Sometimes, it just feels better to give in. Series of one-shots, with a kinda "Seven Deadly Sins" theme.
Quote is from 2.03 (Humpty Dumpty)
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"Why is he so curious about Cuddy?"
"Why are you so curious about his curiosity?"
"Why are you so curious about me being—"
"Because you dumped him. And you're married. And they are neither of those things."
"I'm just curious. Nothing wrong with that."
"No, nothing wrong with that."
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invidia
She manages to catch the elevator just before the doors close. She steps inside the lift, tries and fails to hide her surprise upon see him standing there as the only occupant. He's leaning on the handle of his cane and whistling a song that she can't yet identify.
Stacy pushes the button for her floor, falters in her step as she stands beside him. The grin on his face is far too wide to not have any reason behind it. "What's got you so happy?"
"Nothing. I am not a happy person. Or did you forget?"
"You're smiling."
"Blasphemy," he accuses, and deliberately twists his mouth into a scowl.
"Fine, don't talk about it."
"Talk about what?"
"Whatever it is that's got you grinning like an idiot." She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, reaching over to adjust his shirt out of force of habit. She can't help slipping into her old role when she's around him. "Your collar's crooked."
There's a smudge of something on his collar but her mind doesn't let it wander to the possibility of it being anything other than ketchup. "Still not used to washing your own clothes?"
"Well, there was this one maid, Maria, but Wilson got a little jealous when he found us—"
"Shut up," she commands softly. Stacy steps off the elevator onto her floor, realizing that the song he was whistling was "You Sexy Thing".
She catches Cuddy on her way to the clinic, just as she's pulling on her lab coat.
"Hey. You need something? Did House do something—?"
"No, nothing like that, just got some paperwork for you."
"Lisa, uh--your shirt's missing a button," Stacy informs her, pointing to the small inch of visible skin just above her belly button.
"What? Oh. I must have snagged it on...something." The excuse is flimsy and not at all believable, but Cuddy rushes out before Stacy can make any further comment. Strange, but she assures herself that it's nothing.
That is until later, when she makes the dreadful decision to go for the stairs instead of the elevator this time. She stops just short of the hallway, her curiosity preventing her from interrupting Lisa and Greg's conversation.
"Tell me again, exactly, what this little stunt is designed to do?" She's pushing a folder into his chest, all under the guise of handing over a case file.
"Stunt? What stunt?"
Or, maybe, Stacy thinks callously, it isn't a guise. Maybe they can multitask.
It doesn't bother her that they used to know each other. It doesn't. Or, at least, it shouldn't.
What bothers her, truly and deeply, is not being aware of how far, exactly, that "knowledge" extends. Greg has never been the type to spout on and on about his feelings, but when it came to Lisa, he was especially tight-lipped. "We're friends," is all he would say. Nothing more, nothing less.
Stacy never admitted it, but it always irritated the hell out of her.
They don't touch and that's the reason she gives herself that it's not what it looks like. Can't be. But, the hallway they're meeting in is conveniently empty and rarely used by anyone other than patients.
"You owe me a button." Cuddy frowns, one hand on her hip and the other pressed flat against his chest. The action is far too personal and that's when Stacy thinks she starts to feel a little sick. "Is that my—what, you couldn't have worn a different shirt?"
"What? I thought you liked me in blue."
"I would prefer," she hisses, lowly, closing the small space between them, "if you could choose to wear a shirt that didn't still have my lipstick on the collar."
"It reminds me of you. Helps me get through the day." He's feigning sweetness and, even though they both know it, from the small smile creeping across Cuddy's face, it seems to be working.
Stacy feels something unsettling in the pit of her stomach, swallows back the lump in her throat. She walks back to the elevators, nearly breaking her finger as she pushes the up button.
Damned curiosity.
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