Title: Silver Fox
Characters: Lisa Cuddy, and some OCs
Rating: R
Synopsis: This is how Lisa Cuddy sleeps with her father's best friend-or should it be the other way around?
Author's Note: Inspired by Woody Allen's 'Manhattan' and the revelation that Cuddy did, in fact, sleep with her father's best friend, I decided to freely interpret this in one story.
Part I: Lessons
"The meal was exquisite. Thank you so much, Arlene. Cal, I'll see you in the weekend at the driving range."
After nearly two hours of dinner, wine, coffee, and cakes, a sated Roger Bateman forced himself to stand up, stretch, and exchange pleasantries with the Cuddy family. It had been a long day, and both he and Cal, best friend and colleague, were tired. He felt a hand tug at his gray suit. Of course. He had to get his June home for her homework. There was that, too.
Cal stifled a yawn and put an arm around his wife. "Sure. Take care of Daddy, Junie." Thank god for these Bateman-Cuddy dinners. It was almost impossible not to have the man at his home every two weeks.
"Glad you liked your dinner and your dessert. Hopefully, June would walk the slices of cake off. I almost didn't get them right because of Lisa's—"
"Yes. Thank you, mom. Good night, June. And don't worry about mother. She was just kidding arou—"
"You know I never kid, dear. I was just pointing out that—" Cal squeezed his wife's arm and gave her The Look. That finally made Arlene Cuddy, housewife extraordinaire, shut up. Roger chuckled at Arlene's guilelessness. There would never be a dull moment at the Cuddy home. And June would really need to walk three slices of marble pound cake off.
"Good night, Uncle Roger!" Julia, the youngest of the Cuddy sisters, piped in. She was thinking of New Kids on the Block and a new show to watch. Uncle Roger and Junie really needed to go home, really.
"Good night, Mr. Bateman." Lisa, the eldest, said cryptically. She was thinking, not of Uncle Roger, but of Uncle Roger's lips. Roger and June needed to go home, really, before her mind explodes.
And they did go home afterwards. Lisa was grateful. It certainly was a long dinner with the Batemans. It was certainly a long dinner playing footsie with one Bateman. It was certainly a long dinner making sure that she was playing footsie with the correct Bateman. It was certainly a long dinner making sure that no Cuddy became suspicious that she was attempting to play footsie with the correct Bateman.
Having done her evening rituals of schoolwork, a bath, an argument with her mom, a near-fight with Julia, and a daily father-daughter talk with her Daddy, she just needed to be in her room and be alone for a while. She needed to think.
She needed to think about what was really going on between her and Uncle Roger. She always had a crush on him, but she never really thought it was possible for her to be on intimate terms with the man until his wife left him and June a year ago. After that, she never failed to bring him her mother's muffin baskets every other Sunday, or volunteer to help him check exams, or anything to cheer him up—with her family's consent, of course.
At first, it was innocent. As with other illicit liaisons. Being a tenured university professor, Roger Bateman became somewhat of a mentor to Lisa Cuddy, coaching her with college prep and admissions. He also fostered her interest with literature (specifically, Modern European literature, which he taught) through teaching sessions, conversations, and impromptu book reports. But as with other illicit liaisons, the inevitable occurred.
One night, with sickly June in bed and Arlene Cuddy signature muffins eaten, Roger Bateman found himself looking at his daughter's best friend as if it was his first time. It was quite true. He looked at her as a man, and not as Uncle Roger. Not that he didn't know about Lisa's…affection for him. He was no stranger to lingering looks and inappropriate propositions from the attractive female student body of the university, including female professors. But he never took them seriously. He now understood the thrill of the forbidden with her. Here was Lisa Cuddy, short from offering herself to him, and here he was: a wife he was estranged from, a daughter he did not have anything in common with. Here she was. And all he had to do was return her affections with a single, longing look. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted her to catch him in the act or not. He wasn't quite sure if he was simply wanting a mate after a long time without one, physically and emotionally.
It didn't change the fact that she caught him staring at her that night. For her, that changed everything. Lisa had enough sense to make everything with Uncle Roger as friendly as possible. She knew how to separate fantasy from reality, even if that was quite a feat at times. She hoped that she wasn't being too obvious as a love-struck teenager, and she really did behave herself. She became involved with Dostoevsky, Flaubert, Kafka, and Zola, but never with Uncle Roger. She took his advice on college applications and focused on her studies. She genuinely wanted to help him, along with her family (emphasis on the along with: weekly dinners, sports, travel, visits at their homes), after his wife left him. Even if that included one-on-one settings, she knew that her intentions were quite pure. But he looked at her that night—with desire and thankfulness and admiration. And she caught him staring, and she knew that she was not making this up. Not this time.
She was conflicted the day after. What would she tell him? How would she act? She wanted, so badly, to confirm her suspicions of that one night. And she got her wish. She noticed how he became more open after That Night. He told her stories of his youth, of his glories and his failures. He found in her a vessel for teaching and molding. And the more she became Woman to him, the more he wanted her. It was there in shared glances and brushes of the arm. It was there in shaky breaths and sweaty palms. Sometimes, he asked for more teaching 'sessions'. Sometimes, she asked for more books to read and more mini-lectures on Lukacs and Modernism in literary theory. It was a smokescreen for their type of wooing.
Time became what it was. Lisa Cuddy was nearly a high school valedictorian but months shy from sixteen. For her last assignment, Roger asked her to read "Sentimental Education" by Gustave Flaubert. He wanted to test the waters, to see if she could even get his proposal. She wanted signs, to see if he could make the first (or in this case, second) move. By this time, Cal and Arlene Cuddy were comfortable at having Lisa at Roger's place. June was… Well, June was June.
But Lisa Cuddy solved the puzzle. He was trying to replicate forbidden romance; he was making Flaubert alive. And she accepted. In his study one summer night, she accepted.
"Here's my paper," she told him quietly, handing him six pages of a college book report she worked on meticulously for three nights. The light was meager in his room, where stacks of books were piled inside. "I hope you… Thank you." She looked at him earnestly, arms outstretched. They grazed each others' fingers, as the report slid from a pair of hands to another. Lisa blushed.
"What were you really going to say, hmm?" he asked her, crossing his arms. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and he hadn't his tie on. A modern Rhett Butler. She was wearing a white button-down polo and khaki Capri pants. A kid, she was.
"I just wanted to thank you for the lessons. And for my college applications. I'd never have thought I'd be reading Proust before college, let alone listen to free Lit lectures."
"Don't worry, Lissie," he called her Lissie, his special nickname for her. It was supposed to be sweet and reassuring. "Arlene's cupcakes and her dinners, plus golf with your dad? It's just too much. Your family has helped me a lot. It's been… taxing without Mona. I should thank you."
He surprised her by holding her hand. She surprised him by kissing him full on the mouth.
Even a desk with heaps of books on it couldn't stop them.