A conversation between House and Cuddy after "Fetal Position"
It was just something I felt like writing, so I thought I'd give it a shot.
A week had passed since Emma Sloan went home with her baby, both healthy and happy. House had a full supply of Vicodin, he had gotten out of clinic hours the past four days in a row, and he was driving Cameron and Chase crazy with his knowledge of their little affair. All in all, things were good at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.
But House was annoyed.
He limped into Cuddy's office, ignoring the fact that she was on the phone. He slammed his cane on the receiver of the phone and sat down in one smooth motion.
"I was on the phone," She said acidly, glaring at him, her light green eyes narrowed in mild anger.
"Now you're not." He countered, popping a Vicodin, and fixing her with a piercing gaze.
"I don't have time to flirt House. What do you want?"
"Emma Sloan."
"She's not your type." Cuddy said wryly.
"She has a pulse. She's my type."
"Jesus House, I have a million other things that I could be doing right now. Getting you laid is not one of them. Do you mind telling me what you want?"
"You risked her life so you could keep this notion that you wouldn't end up like her, and maybe, if you did, you would have a shot in hell."
Cuddy was taken aback. Her mouth , ready to spit out a witty comment, hung open in surprise. "I.."
"What are you doing, catching flies? Close your mouth." House said, rolling his eyes. "I need to know if you can stand behind your convictions. We both know that I was right, I always am, we should have terminated. But you refused to let that baby kill all your hopes of having children. So you did the stupid thing. You took a gamble. It worked, this time, but would you do it again?"
Cuddy was silent for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was like razors on ice, it was so sharp. "If you are trying to guilt me when my decision saved a woman and her child, first of all, you're a bastard. But you know that already, so I'm not going to waste my breath on that. Second of all, I would always make that choice. And so what if it gave me some hope? Isn't that what all our patients do? They give us hope that we can beat things that seem unbeatable? That we can do things that society says we can't do? That we can do it- " Her voice broke, and House, who had been listlessly playing with his cane, looked up and saw that tears had started to run down her face. "Even if everyone says it's a lost cause?"
"You did this because you needed to know you could beat the odds?" He asked, slightly surprised at her show of emotion.
Cuddy took a deep breath, tossing her inky curls out of her face. "I needed to know that someone could."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded once, and stood. "Okay. That's all I needed to know."
"Can you lock the door when you leave?" Cuddy asked, pulling a compact out of her bag, and touching up where her mascara had begun to run down her face.
House responded by clicking the lock into place, then closing the door behind him. He sighed and leaned on it, closing his eyes. He had vivid recollection of the small hand reaching out to him, holding onto his finger. House opened his eyes to find himself rubbing that very spot with his thumb. "Dammit." He mumbled, then limped away.
