A/N: I have always wanted to watch a House and Rachel Cuddy showdown – besides the one in Season 5 where she spat up on him, of course. So because I have some waiting time still until the writers can amuse me with their take on it, I have decided to share my take on it with the Internet.
Bear in mind this thing Thomas Foster wrote in his epic book How to Read Literature like a Professor…I'm paraphrasing here, but he talked about how eating a meal is like a communion. The act of putting food into our bodies – particularly food prepared by others – is a very personal thing. We only eat with people we like or need to impress. Having a meal scene shows us how close – or not – a couple really is.
Foster said a lot of stuff in that book (great read, by the way) but this stuck with me the most and I thought that, as it was relevant, I would share it with you guys.
Please enjoy!
Conflict and Resolution
By: Zayz
I. Conflict
This is worse – much worse – than the time he went out with Cameron.
The anticipation then of forcibly having to date a girl half his age – his student, no less – was bad enough. Disaster as he was sure that night would be, he could at the very least console himself with the beautiful fact that it was just one evening and then it would all be over. But this is an entirely different scenario.
The girl he will be sharing his meal with tonight is approximately six percent of his age – and if it goes well, will be his companion for many more meals to come.
He hesitates in his car before reclaiming his key and stepping outside. The late summer sun still hovers like a stubborn child on the darkening horizon, reminding him how much of the evening is still to go before he is reasonably free to leave.
If he believed in a God, this would be the time to start praying.
Sighing, he takes his keys and emerges from his car. Cuddy's suburban, child-friendly house looms over his head. Forcing himself to go inside and remove this particular responsibility from his to-do list – because Cuddy bought into the 'do it early and get it done' school of thought – he limps to the door and rings the bell.
He doesn't have to wait long before Cuddy appears in the doorway, smiling, with Rachel Cuddy holding her hand.
"Hey," he says, returning her smile, and choosing to ignore the child for the moment.
"Hey." She kisses him chastely on the cheek (likely for the benefit of her daughter) and moves aside to let him in.
He steps over the threshold into the entrance and she disappears down the hallway to the kitchen. But this time, Rachel doesn't go with her. She remains standing in front of House, now looking up with interest, as though trying to determine whether or not he is welcome here.
The child's stare is like a laser. He tries to avoid it, but it becomes too awkward not to look back at her, survey her in return.
She doesn't even come up to his knee in height, with short brown hair, small brown eyes, a small nose, small rosebud mouth, chin, small hands and feet and torso. She looks young and harmless enough, but there's a funny look on the girl's face.
Apparently, she does not approve of this new visitor.
He finds himself sighing internally: he has been rejected by a three-year-old. Perfect.
He glances towards the kitchen. Cuddy hasn't come out yet. He wonders what on earth she could be doing that's so important she is taking what feels like an age and a half. Unable to stand the scorching gaze of the little girl below his knee any longer, he wanders purposefully into the kitchen. As it turns out, Cuddy is setting the table.
"Sorry," she says, gesturing to the unfinished setting. "Rachel was playing a game here and I only just got her to stop."
"Mama!"
Unexpectedly, Rachel herself arrives into the kitchen, running at Cuddy and attacking her leg in her version of a bear-hug. Cuddy smiles, ruffling her hair, and continues to set the table; but from behind Cuddy's leg, Rachel gives House a disdainful look that clearly states he is getting no open displays of affection tonight. He finds himself amazed at her cheek. Cuddy certainly knows how to pick them…
Exhaling slowly and trying desperately to convince himself that no, this was not a bad idea, and that yes, he did definitely belong in this cheerful kitchen scene complete with child, he watches as Cuddy finishes with the table. He notes that there is a chicken-and-vegetable dish in the oven and the dishwasher seems to be working on over-time. Somehow, he finds himself quietly pleased that she chose to cook dinner tonight instead of getting take-out, even if he's not entirely sure she possesses the talent necessary to prepare an edible meal. He makes a mental note to cook for her next time. If, after this, there is a next time.
As Cuddy finally brings out the chicken-and-vegetable dish from the oven and sets it out on the table, accompanying it with a bowl of plain white rice, both House and Rachel settle themselves in at the table. Rachel's booster seat is pale blue and sticky with what he can only assume is remnants of her lunch. She climbs into it by herself and chooses to stare intently at House, as though trying to figure him out. He finds himself a little disconcerted by this.
Cuddy notices.
"Rachel, this is Greg," she explains with a sugary smile. "Why don't you say hi?"
Rachel gives House a look of deep disdain.
"Hi," she says.
"Hi," House mutters back.
Cuddy shoots him a look, but busies herself with Rachel's plate.
"Dig in," she tells him, failing to notice that she has the spoon for the white rice and that he can't 'dig in' until she's done because they both know he puts in the rice first. But he chooses not to mention this and instead waits in silence until Cuddy moves on to the chicken. Now he scoops some rice onto his flowered plate and once again silences the screaming impulse in him to flee.
Soon enough, Rachel's chicken is nicely cut up and Cuddy can fill her own plate. Dinner has – at last – begun.
No one speaks at first, in the interest of sampling Cuddy's cooking. House finds that she is actually a capable cook and that even though the salt is a bit too much and he himself would have added a dash of paprika for extra flavor, he likes her chicken-and-vegetable dish well enough. He eats genuinely, putting some actual thought into figuring out her recipe by the flavors in his mouth.
It's a worthy use of his time, and he is as cheerful as he can be, pondering in the analytical way he knows best; but of course it must end. And Rachel Cuddy must be the one to end it.
While he tries to decide whether or not he wants a second helping, Rachel suddenly shouts, "Greg!"
Both House and Cuddy snap their heads up and turn to her. Pleased, Rachel takes this opportunity to swallow her food and stick her tongue out at House, her three-year-old face alive with emotion. Cuddy is shocked; House, torn between amusement, bewilderment and a little resentment.
"Rachel! Apologize to Greg!" Cuddy orders, giving her daughter the sternest look she can muster.
Rachel is unfazed.
"No," she says stubbornly.
"Don't worry about it, kid," House tells her dryly. "I'm not crazy about you either."
Rachel tries to cross her arms, as she has seen her mother do hundreds of times when she's annoyed, but she isn't able to get the motion right. She ends up holding both her elbows instead, which makes him smirk and makes her swell with fury.
"You bad," she informs him.
"Rachel," Cuddy snaps. "Stop it."
"No Greg," Rachel insists.
"Rachel, you will skip dessert and go to your room if you don't start behaving," says Cuddy. "Now, one more time – are you going to apologize?"
Rachel considers this one. The threat of no dessert seems to have had a profound effect on her.
"Sowwy," she finally says in her most sullen-but-demure little-girl voice.
The beginnings of a smile tug at Cuddy's lips, but she otherwise keeps her face straight, sternly telling her, "Good girl. Now behave. Okay?"
Rachel nods and resumes her dinner, a resigned air to the way she twirls her fork through the kernels of rice. Both House and Cuddy watch her for a moment – Cuddy with visible worry, House with cynical astonishment.
They are silent again in the wake of Rachel's tantrum. Because of this, the meal goes too fast and all three are done within fifteen minutes. Rachel is the only one who takes up the offer for dessert and sends Cuddy off to find the ice cream in the freezer. This leaves House and Rachel sitting at the table together, facing each other, with Cuddy's back to both of them.
He eyes her curiously, as if trying to decide what species of alien she is. She eyes him back just as curiously, as if trying to decipher his gaze. She appears a little scared of him now, with the full force of his blue eyes on her; her brown eyes widen, tension in her mouth becomes obvious, and she becomes the one to retreat, dropping eye contact and staring at the table instead.
He finds himself now entertained and quite frustrated: not only is he not welcome to this tiny creature, he is a frightening monster to her too. Bad to worse.
After the Earth could have cooled, thawed and frozen over again, Cuddy finally turns around, armed with ice cream, and scoops some out into a bowl for Rachel. The little girl accepts her dessert and begins eating in her messy three-year-old way, ice cream all around her mouth. Cuddy attempts to get near her with a napkin, but she swats her away, apparently desiring to eat in peace. Cuddy – figuring she would only get dirtier as dessert progressed – left it at that and was now left to look helplessly and hopelessly to her unfortunate boyfriend.
'I'm sorry,' she mouths, pursing her lip in pity.
He rolls his eyes. She seems genuinely distressed over the situation at hand, which he finds silly, because he could have predicted this outcome before he even walked into this house.
He doesn't get along with children. He is not a paternal figure. As convinced as Cuddy is that her relationship with him will work, she cannot be equally convinced that his relationship with her daughter will work because that would be both fruitless and absurd. And Cuddy knows better than to indulge fruitless and absurd things. Or so he hopes.
They sit in silence as Rachel finishes dessert. When she's done, Cuddy takes her bowl to the sink and attacks her mouth with a wet tissue. She wriggles a little, but lets Cuddy finish cleaning her up. Then, with some audible desperation, Cuddy suggests they go to the living room.
He follows her because there is nothing else he can do and it's still too early to leave politely. Normally politeness doesn't bother him, but he knows Cuddy would be extremely upset if she thought he was bailing on her and he doesn't want to deal with that. She's already upset enough that Rachel outwardly hates him. He's the adult; it's his job to take away stress than add more, even if that's not always the way he operates.
So he tries. He follows. The three of them approach her couch.
Cuddy sits on the edge like she always does and House sits beside her, arm around her, holding her close. She rests her head on his shoulder and already, this feels normal – sitting together, watching TV, enjoying the other's company in silence. But tonight they have the three-year-old and she climbs onto her mother's lap, and her mother has an arm around her too, and he can only imagine how domestic they look.
Never in a million years would he have thought he would end up in this position. It's almost physically uncomfortable.
But he can't do anything about it. He's stuck. And really, the three-year-old is the only thing he'd wish away. The rest he would keep.
Cuddy flips channels for something neutral, like a sports game or child-friendly movie, and House watches the images blur. He fixes his eyes on it so he can avoid listening to Rachel's short, shallow, baby-girl breaths, obvious in a room where adults breathe quietly. Finally, Cuddy settles on a channel – a game of football – and they watch in silence. This evening has been pervaded by quite a lot of silence.
They watch until the game is over, until it's dark. When the clock says eight, Cuddy turns the TV off and says, "It's time for bed, Rachel. Come on. Time to go change into PJ's."
Rachel obediently jumps off of her mother's lap and waits to be taken to her room to change. Cuddy exchanges a glance with House – just a brief one – before she tells Rachel in her most sugary mommy voice, "Rachel, say good-night to Greg."
Rachel rotates slowly on the spot until she can see House straight-on, her small brown eyes fixed on his large blue ones.
She opens her mouth as though she's going to do it, as though she's going to say good-night. Her lips are rounded as though she will make the sound of the 'g' for 'good-night.'
But then her mouth goes slack and she walks defiantly away, disappearing behind the threshold of her bedroom door.
Cuddy sighs an almost painful sigh.
"I'm sorry," she tells him, now that Rachel is gone.
"Apparently she's not," House remarks.
She refuses to smile. "That's not funny."
"Sorry," he says dryly.
This time she does smile – but only a little.
"So…you're probably going to want to leave now," she says.
"It crossed my mind," he replies. "I've been rejected by a three-year-old."
"You haven't been rejected," Cuddy says with a derisive snort.
House cocks an eyebrow, but she holds her ground.
"She may not have been on her best behavior, but you didn't exactly make it easy on her either," she points out fairly. "She's three and you're the stranger in her home."
"You didn't see the look she gave me when you left us in the hallway," he defends himself. "She hates me."
"Don't be such a drama queen," she says, swatting him on the arm with a roll of her eyes. "She doesn't hate you! She just…hasn't warmed up to you yet."
"Potato, potaato," he says, somewhat childishly.
"In case you haven't noticed, most people don't warm up to you right away," Cuddy points out. "Just give her time. She's like you – guarded at first."
"So you're saying I'm like a three-year-old?"
She smiles angelically. "Maybe I am."
"Now I'm insulted," he says.
"I'm sure you'll get over it." She leans in and brushes her lips softly against his. "But I have to go put her to bed. I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"
"All right…but you owe me big time for this," he tells her. "And you can start paying your debt right now."
He leans back in and gives her a real kiss. She obliges with pleasure, but briefly, patting him on the shoulder and saying, "Later. I promise."
Then she gets up and disappears into Rachel's room as well, obviously expecting him to show himself out – which he does with more enthusiasm than he's had tonight.
He sits in his car, the sky properly dark now, and puts his key into the ignition. By now, his stomach should have settled in, pleased that the disaster was over and he was free to flee, but his intuition is still deeply troubled.
For Cuddy, this didn't go as horribly as it did for him. She expected there to be a next time.
Oh, he is doomed.
A/N: Part two is obviously the 'resolution' part of things but that doesn't excuse you from reviewing part one.
I will post again when I'm finished. Hopefully within this week. Stay tuned.