A/N: One-shot on the relationship and reprecussions of such between our favorite diagnostician and the Dean.

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.

Taken in Stride


She stood strong and tall in her high heels and waves of people parted before her; even patients could feel the power and importance that was packaged in the small sturdy figure of the Dean of Medicine. How strange, she thought to herself at the reverence that whirled around her wake. Lisa Cuddy definitely looked the part of the awe-inspiring administrator and regent of Princeton-Plainsboro, but she most certainly didn't feel it.

--

Stalking the halls on your round it might be odd, yet you feel no different than when you were a lowly med-student on rotation in the hospital. It wasn't as if you'd assumed a mantle of confidence and importance when accepting the position of Dean and administrator. It wasn't that you had no self-confidence, you did. It just probably wasn't as much as someone with all your accomplishments should have. No one would guess from your steely exterior and forceful implementations of the rules and laws governing the medical profession, though.

There had been a whisper in the back of your mind when you'd first hired him warning that he could push you, causing you to topple from the tall perch of power and respect you'd finally attained. In reality he'd done the exact opposite. Every push, prod, cajole, and quip spurred you on to rally your courage and strength against the onslaught of complaints and chaos. Saying 'no' to him was easy sometimes. He'd approach you with that wild fire in his eyes shaking his cane dramatically to emphasize his point. When in actuality his flamboyant arm-waving usually indicated an absence of logical thought and reasoning. Turning him down flat sent a zip of energy up your backbone, causing you to sit a little straight and stand taller knowing you could just say 'no.'

Other times it was simply a different story. You could have landed a million dollar donation five minutes before and sailing bright on the briny sea just to hit the tsunami that is House. His request ridiculous and reasoning irrefutable, suddenly the water is swallowing you whole and you have to kick and struggle to keep yourself afloat, gasping for breath, fighting the waves to keep the water out of your pipes. His eyes find your's, the piercing stare a life line, as if he was tossing you a lifesaver. Slowly you nod your head giving your consent. How ironic—the agnostic might force you to find your religion as you once again offer up a prayer for this to work, for your trust in him to be justified.

And it's strange to you that he of all people should bolster your confidence, strengthen your stride and send you reeling once again into full-fledged assault on the injustices surrounding you—even if it starts with him missing out on clinic—again…


A/N: Reviews are welcome!