Title: Unscrewed
Summary: Missing Scene from 'The Greater Good'. Revenge is oh-so-sweet.
Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D.
Warning: Spoilers for 'The Greater Good'. Story is also posted on my LiveJournal account.
Cuddy exhaled as she closed the door to her office, her lips slipping into a smile. Though it was over now, the whole 'revenge upon House' plan had been an absolute blast. Sure, he wasn't doing his 'House thing' and getting back at her as she thought he would, but that had not really mattered to her. Then Wilson came along and ruined it for her.
She sighed, leaning against the doors for a moment before she walked forward. Wilson had looked so annoyed with her, disappointed. Wilson figured himself House's protector, and attempted to make her feel bad about what she'd done. While Cuddy was sure she'd feel a little shame for what she had done by tomorrow, she could not bring herself to truly care right now. She had apologized, what was done was done.
She strode around her desk and sat down in her computer chair-
"Waah!"
-And her chair fell apart beneath her.
Cuddy took a moment to gather her senses, and realized she was lying on her back, on top of her chair. She blinked a few times, trying to catch her breath, before rolling onto her hands and knees. She stood shakily, using her desk for balance, and looked at what used to be her chair. Someone had unscrewed the top of the chair from its base, and when Cuddy had sat down, the cushioned seat had simply slid off. Now that she was paying attention, she could see that the screws were carefully lined up on her desk, right next to her large piles of paper work. Like tiny soldiers waiting to do battle.
Cuddy's eyebrow twitched.
"House…!" she growled, clenching her hands into fists. However, she felt a thrill of smugness. So the bastard just couldn't help himself, just as she thought. She stormed around her desk, snatching up her coat on the way, and rushed through her doors.
"You look like you're in a hurry. Is something… wrong?"
Cuddy stopped, for while the voice was inquisitive and held no malice, she felt as though the devil himself had asked her the question. Cautiously, she glanced over her shoulder and found Wilson there, leaning against the wall. He had a perfectly polite look on his face, but his brown eyes were dark with something horrible and promises of further pain. Cuddy, however, shoved those thoughts aside and raised an eyebrow.
"It seems that someone disassembled my chair," she said simply. "I'm going to find out who."
Wilson stepped forward, coming up beside her. He blinked at her, leaning his head to the side a bit. "Really?" he said simply. He then pressed something into her hand. "While you're off doing that, could you drop this off for me?"
He then turned around and walked away, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. As he disappeared, Cuddy glanced down at what the oncologist had given her.
It was a screwdriver.