Devoted To The Deal

She was a girl on a wagon train
Headed west across the plains
The train got lost in a summer storm
They couldn't move west and they couldn't go home
Then she saw him ridin' through the rain
He took charge of the wagons and he saved the train
And she looked down and her heart was gone
The train went west but she stayed on
In Lonesome Dove.

She learned the language and she learned to fight
But she never learned how to beat the lonely nights
In Lonesome Dove, Lonesome Dove.

~ Prologue ~

All of this was one hundred percent his fault. He had refused to take the deal, and dragged everyone down with him. His team's accounts had been frozen, Wilson had been forced to temporarily shut down his practice, and the board had been on her ass.

She had no choice. Her devotion to her job and her love for him had forced her to protect the dynamic of their lives. Prison and unemployment would have disrupted their twisted relationship, and cost other's their lives.

It was because of these reasons that her mind was playing tug of war with her heart. It was because of these reasons that she was currently residing in a cozy, log cabin miles into the forest. It was because of these reasons that she lay, love struck beside Detective Michael Tritter.

Wilson had called her. After dealing with all of House's detoxing abuse for the previous couple of weeks, he'd finally given up, and demanded her assistance. Seeing his best friend passed out in a pile of his own vomit was, apparently, too much for him. She'd shown up at the Diagnostician's apartment to find that Wilson had already left, and House lying exactly where his friend had left him. Nothing had changed. Nothing ever did.

He fought her tooth and nail the entire way from the floor to the bathroom, then from the bathroom to his dresser, and so forth. Eventually, she managed to drag him to her car and to the Police Station. He was going to accept Tritter's deal. There was simply no other option. He had reached rock bottom the second he stole Wilson's patient's Oxycodon. Rehabilitation was the only thing that could have saved him.

She had tried to ignore noticing the extra effort it took him to withdraw himself from her small car. His agony expressed itself as clear as day on his face. Had it not been for his cruel and hostile attitude, she'd of had helped him. At that point, however, she'd heard enough of his remarks. If he wanted to suffer alone, then so be it.

Waiting in the parking lot while he went to go accept Tritter's proposal was quite possibly one of the most nerve wracking moments of her life, so much hung in the balance. She thought he couldn't mess it up. He simply couldn't. For once in his miserable life, he needed to swallow his pride. The deal he was offered was more than fare, it was what he needed to dig himself out of the six foot hole he'd dug.

She had faith in him, as always. The memory of a younger, kinder Gregory House was what always fueled her hope. She attached herself to the belief that somewhere deep down beneath the harshness that was the drug addict, there was a heart. A heart that could love and feel; maybe not for her, but at least for something, something similar to the greater good.

It was because of this hope that her eyes felt pierced at the image of him stomping unevenly out of the Police Station. She couldn't hear him over the car's heater and winter's snowy night, but by the movement of his lips, she could tell that a string of expletives were leaving his mouth. As quickly as she could, Cuddy shut off her car, and chased after him. He'd stammered halfway down the block before she was able to catch up to his enraged, limping body. She only received his attention after gently placing a hand on his elbow, and willed him to turn around.

"What?" He shouted directly into her face, though not at her. He had the eyes of angry junkie, unfocused and far away. It seemed that it was becoming him. She'd seen him too many times with the same black stare.

"What? What happened?" She felt her eyes go wide. It was horrifying not being able to help him. Whatever mess he'd made, she wouldn't be able to clean up. She knew something had gone wrong. All that mattered then was knowing just how badly he'd managed to screw up this time.

"That son of a bitch took back the deal!" He was snarling now. "I told you and Wilson that he was just playing mind games, but once again, you two had to get involved! Now, I'm in even deeper shit than I was before."

It was only a second that they stood, silent in a relentless stare down. The two of them in each other's faces, and completely infuriated by the other's actions. She was right, he was wrong. There was nothing to argue, but logic had never been something they shared when speaking to one another. He stormed off down an alley while she looked up to the heavens for help in dealing with the irrational man. Minutes passed by as she pondered the next disaster that was sure to occur. Everything hit her so quickly; her eyes could only see red.

The angry sound of her heels on the city's icy, concrete echoed through the night's eerily quiet atmosphere. It was by miracle that she did not slip and fall. Her mind was clouded with pure frustration as she marched back, towards the Police Station. She couldn't grasp why their nightmare wouldn't end, and, yes, it was their nightmare. She was as much a part of this as him. Her rapid emotions were what led her to the detective. She could hardly remember the livid stride she used to find herself before his desk, until his confused voice snapped her out of the violet trance.

"Dr. Cuddy?"

A slack jaw and blinking eyes were his only reply. She hadn't expected to face him, again. Standing in the middle of the darkened station on Christmas Eve was definitely a scenario she had never anticipated. It seemed as though, instantly, her frustration shifted from House to Tritter.

"How could you?" It was a desperate question, but asked in a demanding fashion. Technically, he held the authority, but she was unused to not having control. It had been quite some time since she hadn't been the superior.

The man's brows turned inward. His look, angered, but the small smile on his lips expressed his amusement. "How could I what? He was being arrogant.

"How could you take away the deal?" She nearly screamed. It was luck that had them alone. Any other person would have thought her crazy with her eyes wide and arms flailing about.

Tritter's only response was to sigh. Coming from behind his desk, he attempted to talk some sense into her. It had not been his intention to drag her into the middle of their feud. "Dr. Cuddy, you don't know-"

"I know everything! I know his pain and I know how he deals with it. I know his weaknesses and I know how much of an ass he can be." She stepped up to him. Their posture's mirroring the daily dispute between herself and her Diagnostician. She was looking up at his taller form without any form of apprehension. She was the boss. "The Oxycodon was a mistake on his part, but you can't keep in punishing him for his pain." She was hardly a foot away from him now. "It isn't justice, its brutality!" She spat the words in his face.

And that's when she saw it. She saw the incredible way his blue eyes turned almost black. It was not yet fireworks that went off, but guns. Bombs and explosives were what were filling their stare. She'd seen that look a thousand times. House gave it to her nearly every day.

Cuddy was immediately aware of the sudden halt to her rant. She remained in his personal space, breathing heavily. Her gut had lurched itself into her chest at the realization of what she'd done. The man was an animal. She'd seen his unmerciful characteristics for nearly a month and there she was, albeit unknowingly, provoking the beast with her feminine wiles.

He was the one to break away from her gaze when she took a small, tentative step backwards, and, visibly gulped. Tritter screwed his eyes shut and gently shook his head. Calmly, he spoke. "I offered Dr. House a deal before he stole a deceased patient's narcotics. I have no choice, now, but to continue with the investigation. He will, most likely, have a trial in only a few weeks time."

Hurt rushed through Cuddy's body at the thought of House on trial. He didn't have a chance at beating it. Of that, she was certain. Everything came crashing down on her so fast; she wasn't able to suppress the pained look upon her face. The memory of Tritter's response to her demeanor could never be forgotten. He sent her a sympathetic look before making his way back to his desk. Sitting down, the detective spoke in the automatic, professional tone she used when negotiating with donors. "I'm sorry, Dr. Cuddy, but there's nothing else I can do for Dr. House."

With a sharp intake of breath, she refocused her stare onto the floor. She couldn't believe the idea that had been created inside her head when Tritter had looked at her. Her feet stumbled back, once again, as she contemplated what she was about to do. She was already House's bitch. Was she going to become his whore too? The words left her mouth before she even registered what exactly she was getting herself into.

"What about me?"

"I'm sorry?" The detective's face was of shocked confusion. Apparently, he didn't think her a tramp, nor stupid enough to defend an obnoxious drug addict.

"Would you offer me a deal?" She looked into his eyes then. The understood question hung in the air. Its tension, so think, a knife could have cut through it. At the time, he was nothing more than a sadistic bastard. She didn't trust him, nor his morals. It had been a mystery as to whether or not he was willing to negotiate.

The way he pursed his lips told her he was considering the unconstitutional act. He, also, would be risking quite a bit by granting her the opportunity to save House. It all depended on if he was just as miserable as he appeared to be.

"I've been meaning to take a vacation for quite some time now." He eyed her suspiciously. It had been an awkward interaction for the both of them. "Before this whole House situation, I was planning no spending a week at my cabin in upstate New York. Care to join me?"

Her jaw clenched the moment he finished asking the most degrading, unspoken question of her life. Her stomach turned with its importance as her eyes bore into his. Her body, mind, and soul were all fighting each other. Her insides screaming no, while the torch she carried for House begged her to do anything to keep him close. A slow and hesitant nod of her head accepted the proposal he'd just made before verbalizing her understanding of exactly what he was asking, "Okay."

She watched disgusted with the way a genuine smile spread across her face. He stood, once again, from his desk and walked around to stand too close to her. "I'll speak to my boss first thing tomorrow morning, and I plan on heading up to the cabin Sunday morning." He watched her with curious eyes. Much like her employee, he studied her every reaction, and slowly took into memory her nervous demeanor.

"Okay, um email me the address, and I'll meet you there." She could hear her voice breaking. The reality of what she agreed to do hit her so quickly, her eyes glistened with tears. Indignity was all that flowed through her veins.

A flash of remorse passed though Tritter's eyes. For once millionth of a second, he had allowed her to see the soul that did exist within his cold hearted persona. At the time, she dismissed it as a sick and twisted game. He was the devil in her eyes. He was the root of all her life's evil. The disgusting treaty she'd just signed was her undoing. Dysfunction is what she carefully planned and expected. This was the bullet, in which would shatter her scheduled chaos.

The two enimies' eye contact was the rest of their conversation. She could barely breathe, and he appeared to be fighting the urge to run away. Cuddy couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable he looked. She was unknowingly his first illegal agreement. When she turned her head away in shame, she chose to ignore the way he watched her body's movement. It had seemed pointless to be offended. Her entire body shivered as she left the Police Station. The walk to her car was a long one. The December air wasn't nearly as cold as what she'd just experience.

Song: "Lonesome Dove" by Garth Brooks