A.N.: After watching episode 20 of season 7, 'Changes', an idea came to me.
I love the development of the relationship between House and Thirteen in season 7 and I came to imagine what would have happened after the 20th episode if they had a discussion over drinks.
I will quote the end of the episode and go from there (I used the transcript found on the site 'clinic duty').
It is a one shot.
Reviews are very much appreciated!
Context of the episode:
The team had been treating a patient who had won the lottery and was looking for his first love. House had expressed his contempt for lottery and so did Thirteen. An impostor posed as his long lost lover during the episode before the real one came to visit him.
At the end, the patient and his real first love were talking and Thirteen was watching them from the lobby. House joined her and offered her some chips, which she took.
Thirteen : "It's the real Jennifer. Or at least the only one to show up who actually has the birthmark. He's renting her an apartment."
House : "It'll end horribly."
Thirteen : "Not for him. She may take all his money, and he may be a naive idiot, but… he'll always be hopeful, so he'll always be happy."
House : "You lost your mother. You euthanized your brother. You got the life expectancy of a pretty good sitcom. If you can convince yourself that you'd be miserable no matter what even without all that stuff, then maybe you don't have to hate the universe for dumping a giant turd on you. Fatalism is your survival mechanism."
Thirteen : "And you? Dumped by everyone you've ever loved. Rehab was a bust. Your leg feels like somebody took a giant bite out of it. We are who we are. Lotteries are stupid."
She left him alone, thinking and eating a chip.
House was finishing to chew on his chip while looking at the patient reuniting with his seemingly long lost love but the scene was getting too boring or too annoying for him now. He discarded the nearly empty bag on the nurse station nearby and decided to limp toward the locker room. He leaned near the doorframe for a while, lost in his thoughts, and propelled himself heavily on his cane when he saw the door being energetically pushed and the familiar brunette emerging from the room. As usual, she had been quick and effective, already wrapped in her leather jacket, ready to go. At his sight, she gave him an amused yet expectant look, propping him to introduce his presence. He complied, but not before offering a conceited smirk. "Mind to grab a drink with an old man."
"Depends if he's gonna try to worm information out of me to call another one of my exes", she defied with a small smile more forgiving than her words.
"I should have called the sister", he answered longingly. "If only I knew…"
She sniggered at his predictable reaction. "And then you wonder why I deflect all your questions", she replied dryly.
"If you gave me the answers right away, it would be easier. You know I can find out pretty much anything", he told her matter of factly. His methodical ways to read people rarely failed him and, if it did, he could always piece together the little clues they left behind when being distracted. No one was able to remain completely blank and neutral for a long period of time. Even if he had to admit that the brunette standing in front of him was quite a challenge. "I'm that good", he added with a smug sneer.
"I guess there's more fun this way", she deadpanned. "Keeps your mind sharp. I do you a favour really. You should thank me". She was now plainly mocking the corner of her mouth rising ever so slightly.
His eyes twinkled and his smirk grew into a smile. "Drinks on me", he conceded.
"Deal", he replied with a smirk of her own.
xxxx
Separately, they drove to a bar that House had chosen. It was afar from the hospital, at the limit of the town. The interior was sober and obscure, and a gloomy feeling was emerging from it. It was one of those places where faces were coming and going, never the same twice in a row. Its location made it convenient though. Not too close to acquire a regular frequentation, but not too isolate either to look like some weird rest area. It was a medium size bar with old furniture, mostly wooden tables and kitsch decoration. They choose to occupy a table made for two. Some remnant of alcohol made it sticky, which matched the smell of the room.
Thirteen sat down and House went to the bar counter to order them two drinks. He did not bother to ask her what she would like. She took the opportunity to look around and scan the people around them. They seemed ordinary, like the one she could meet at the hospital, yet outside of their routine.
Soon House came back with two glasses of scotch, offering her one by extending his arm. The younger woman recognized the yellow liquor and smiled at it in agreement with his choice.
"We've always been more alike than you're willing to admit", the older man told her with an arrogant smile.
She narrowed her eyes at him and wordlessly took the glass from him. She carried it to her lips and paused after drinking a small sip. His eyes were still on her, so she asked, "What?"
"You seem thirsty", he replied flatly. When she looked away, he finally added, "Any new drama I should know about?"
Grey eyes went back to stare at blue ones. They were challenging each others. "Why always so much interest in my life?", she asked defiantly. "Don't you have enough drama in your own life?" She raised an eyebrow to accompany her question.
"It's more fun in yours", he answered, not giving away anything.
"Thank you", she replied with feigned vexation.
"To have as much action as you, I have to pay", he offered jokingly.
Thirteen smiled at his self-mockery. She took another gulp of scotch and said, "Ok. I'll tell you about prison if you tell me about Cuddy. How did you lose her?"
He stiffened at her request, the mention of the other woman bothering him. "By being me." He was not willing to address this subject.
The young woman shot him an unimpressed stare. "Not enough."
The left corner of his mouth raised slightly and a gloomy expression took over his features. "Not enough for her, indeed." He reached into his pocket for the familiar yellow bottle and took out two pills.
She gave him an apologetic look. The usually unflappable man seemed crushed. She never saw this much of vulnerability from him before. Maybe the dean of medicine had changed him.
Thirteen decided to offer him a break from his melancholic thoughts. "I got myself a girlfriend and a fuckfriend in prison. You would have disliked the former but fantasized about the latter."
House features transformed at the statement of the younger woman that could have been considered over sharing under her own guidelines. His facial expression relaxed and his eyes appeared focused again. "What was she incarcerated for?"
The diversion was working and her face went smug. "Which one?"
"The girlfriend", he questioned with much interest. His mouth was twitching and a smile threatened to appear.
"She wasn't", Thirteen replied with a sly smile prompting House to chuckle slightly.
"Nice", he complimented her. "Always trying to be ahead of things." He raised his glass and downed it in one gulp, then made a sign to the bartender to come and give them a refill. "She doesn't like you as much now that bondage require an additional effort?", he further inquired.
"Moved on", she replied, not giving away more information with her facial features. She finished her own drink while the bartender approached them. "Has she already moved on?", she queried herself.
"I don't know", he admitted, defeat noticeable in his demeanour. His chin, usually up and fierce, was facing down, even if he did not move from looking at his employee. "But she doesn't seem to miss me", he confessed in a rare moment of truth. "So she might as well already have…", he said with his eyes now looking at his palms encircling his full glass.
She felt the intensity of his pain and the weight of the admission he just made. She was appreciative of his trust. "I cheated on her before getting out so she wouldn't try to stay in contact", she blurted out.
He upturned his gaze toward her, surprised by her own confession. He nodded to the statement, not feeling the need for more explanation. "I would say you can't win the lottery if you don't play but I already know your views on this. On the other hand, if we consider that the genetic lottery made you number thirteen, I can get your point." He was back to his usual self.
She shrugged at the statement. "Lotteries are stupid. She'll keep a good memory."
"Is that already what you are?", he asked. She raised her eyebrows at his question, so he added, "A memory".
Now it was her turn to lower her stare on her drink, watching the yellow liquor twirl in the glass with the slight controlled motions of her wrist. She didn't have an answer to that one. Maybe she was already a memory. Her future held no more surprise. She would lose control and die. Her tremors were already progressing.
"You might as well slit your wrist now and there", he added dramatically, regaining the upper hand of the conversation and forgetting about his own misery.
Her eyes came back to meet his with a defiant gaze and she answered him with a certain irony, "I remember you offered to help."
"When you will need it", he specified.
"Maybe I do", she answered quietly, more to herself. She downed half her glass in one gulp.
He read sincere sadness during the few seconds her poker face slipped. He changed the subject. "I even miss the kid", he stated. He was not sure if he was trying to make her feel better or if it was for himself, for the sake of feeling human in regard to her despair.
Thirteen had to cross-check information in her head before asking dumfounded, "Rachel?"
"Yeah", he admitted taking hold of his new drink and downing it even quicker than the one before. "Who would have predicted that?"
"You're a softy", she replied with a chuckle she could not suppress at the image of her boss with a three year old on his lap. Three years ago she would have laughed whole-heartedly if someone had told her such a thing about the older man. But tonight she empathised. "Does she know all of that?", she asked with an hint of concern peaking in her voice. Knowing him, the odds were high that he had never told the one concerned.
House replied to his fellow with a lopsided simper. She was insightful. After all, the main reason they were sharing this conversation. "She doesn't care", he said looking straight into her eyes, his smirk slowly fading.
For the spilt of a second, she saw a raw sense of desperation in his blue eyes. It softened her. She opened her mouth, but he talked again before she could think of something appropriate to answer.
"She said it all to Wilson", he added defeated, lowering his shoulder and bowing his head.
The admission astonished her. "She talked to Wilson instead of you?" Her voice was unusually rising with the amount of surprise she felt. The woman used his friend to break up with him. It was twisted, even for House.
"She's feeling too guilty to talk to me", he said with a hint of anger reflecting in his tone and provoking him to increase his grasp on the glass in his hands.
Thirteen furrowed her brows at the unusual emotional response the older man was displaying, silently urging him to talk. His feelings must have been powerful for him to become unable to properly conceal them. "Well, seeing you now and with the few details I have, she should be", she offered with sympathy. "She broke you", she declared as the realisation was landing on her. She had no purpose to aggravate his current condition and winced when she realised his countenance got affected by her words.
Quickly regaining his composure, he countered, "You can't break something that's already broken." He was going for a comical effect and added a 'duh' face to his witty comment.
"You can still break it some more in smaller pieces", she refuted with a knowing look.
He recognized her signature 'I-got-you' look and chuckled before gesturing at the bartender to come and pour them some more alcohol.
House quickly switched topics and covered his face again with a sly grin. "See the blonde at the table behind the pool table". He was pointing his glass toward a small framed woman who was seemingly waiting for someone and getting impatient, by the way she was scanning the room every minute or so while keeping an eye on her cell phone positioned near her half empty glass of some fancy cocktail.
She followed the direction he was indicating and detailed the woman's appearance before answering, "Yes". She was sensing some challenge from the determined expression on his face.
"Go get her number", he defied her. His grin had broadened on his face, nearly reaching his eyes, and those blue eyes had a twinkle of mischief that indicated he was not going to leave it at rest.
Thirteen laughed at his playfulness, glad that he had been able to change his train of thoughts so quickly. She raised an eyebrow quizzically. She was not going to make it that easy. "Why?"
He recognized her stubbornness and snickered. "Because I want to see how you do it", he said, playing humility. She gave him an incredulous look so he added, "I've always been curious of your technics to seduce so many women". And it was true. He had wondered about how she picked up women so effortlessly. "Beyond your obvious well endowed looks", he finished with a roll of his eyes.
She smiled mischievously. "You want to learn something useful." She knew he was curious about her facilities. Her professional persona was not giving away her player tendencies. She was good a compartmentalizing her life.
He shrugged, not willing to admit that he might indeed learn something. Truth was he was more interested in learning about the brunette herself. "Payback for everything I taught you", he said with a wink.
Thirteen gave him a look of disdain but her amused smile told him she was up for the dare.
xxxx
"Maybe it's a good thing he didn't show up", the brunette said with sympathy.
The blonde looked at the stranger with incredibility. She had been lost in her thoughts and did not notice the woman coming to stand in front of her.
"For him, it starting to be", she replied looking at her phone again with annoyance. "If he shows up, I'll strangle him".
"Whoa. Isn't it a bit intense for a stood up?", Thirteen replied with a breezy laugh. "Last time I checked, it wasn't worth prison", she added with a charming grin, staring at the dark eyes of the blonde.
"True", the blonde admitted with a small smile and flushed cheeks. "I'm not usually that intense", she defended herself with a wince followed by a more confident grin.
"Intense is nice sometimes", the brunette answered. She paused to emphasize the ambiguity of her words and to observe how they were received. The blonde did not seem to mind. "But I would definitely think twice before standing you up now". Her smile got mischievous by the end of her sentence while she widened her eyes with meaning.
The blonde laughed nervously. She tossed a strand of hair behind her ear and asked, "How would you react then?"
"I never get stoop up", the brunette bragged with friskiness. But before sounding too much like a show-off, she added with more honesty, "I would try to enjoy my night anyway. It's always the best revenge." She extended her hand and delicately touched the other woman's arm. "I would definitely not wait".
The gesture, combined with the teal eyes staring at her, sent a thrill down the spine of the blonde. "Good idea", she replied. She pondered how much more detrimental to her than to the man she was waiting for was her spike of frustration. "I should go", she said, conviction in her eyes. Yet, instead of making a move in that direction, she dropped her gaze to look at the brunette's hand on her. "Thank you for the pep talk", she added, looking back into the grey irises again. She remained still for a while, looking at the brunette's mesmerising eyes.
"You're welcome." Thirteen was starring back at the blonde. Eventually, she asked, "Would you mind if someday we met for a drink and I showed up?"
The blonde answered with a bubbly laugh before admitting, "It wouldn't be the worst thing". She hesitated slightly, then took a pen out of her handbag and scribbled her phone number on the paper towel that was laying near her glass. She offered the piece of paper to the other woman and said as a form of introduction, "Mary".
When accepting the paper, Thirteen grazed at the blonde's fingers, never losing eye contact. "Remy", she murmured in a purring voice.
The blonde instantly blushed before retrieving her hand and adverting her gaze. She eyed the brunette again and said, "See you, Remy". And with that, she turned around and headed for the door.
Thirteen continued to look at her until she passed the threshold of the bar. Then she turned around and went back to the table she was sharing with House.
xxxx
House was smiling appreciatively. He did not hear all of conversation between the two women but body language had been explicit. It was amusing to see how humans were easy to manoeuvre. Once you found their sensitive spots, you could go from there and find a way to get what you want. His fellow might not have accepted that yet but she was good at manipulating people, just like him.
"She will think of you tonight", he said with some malice when the younger woman sat back on her chair. A new glass of scotch was waiting for her.
"I hope so", Thirteen chuckled. "She's cute", she added with nonchalance. She laid back on her seat comfortably and asked teasingly, "So, what do you think old man?"
"Hey. I had my moment of glory back in the days", he countered, miming being hurt. "Seduced the dean and brought her back to my place on the first night, then left her pining for thirty years before calling her back. That's how much of an impression I can leave." He was playing callous but an expert eye could have seen more beneath the surface of his wordplay.
Thirteen listened to his statement with a smile growing into a full blown out laugh. She could actually picture him younger and playing the field. But the idea of a twenty-year-old Cuddy unable to resist his charms was too much to not elicit a frank laugh from her.
However, she was not blind to the fact that his ex was haunting him. "So why did she broke up with you?", she asked again, determined to get an answer this time.
"I'm not sure", he answered with honesty. "I guess she hoped I would change and I did not"
"Her lost", she said, rising her glass to him as if she was giving a toast. "Tell me something", she asked with a malicious tone. "Wilson", she stated before adding with a conspiratorial look, "Did something ever happened or are you two just good friends with boundary issues?"
House laughed at this question. "Never did, never will." His eyes were not as peremptory as his words but she believed him. "His breasts are barely the same size as yours. I've been accustomed to E-cups, you know", he added as proof of his earnestness.
She was amused by his reaction and did not pick up on his affront. "Let me offer you a dare now", she replied with seriousness.
"It wasn't supposed to work this way", he countered, a steady look coming back.
"Well, now it does", he said as a simple form of explanation. She straightened her back and prepared herself for a discussion. "You have to ask Cuddy to have a real discussion with you."
"What would it change?", he asked sternly.
"I don't know", she admitted. She paused and looked intently at him before talking again. "At least you would understand what happened."
The muscles on his face had barely moved since she reintroduced the older woman into the conversation. He looked older and tired. "I know what happened."
"You know the facts", she retorted. "From what I gathered, she backpedalled abruptly. Do you know why?" She was sporting a kind expression on her face and was inviting him into giving a real explanation. "She still feels the need to come to you to help her deal with her mother. Or create a scheme around that. Either way, it's not indifference. There's something to discuss."
He stared at her, for a few seconds envisaging to actually talk to the older woman. Then he shook his head from the thoughts. "It doesn't matter. She won't change her mind".
"How can you be so sure?", she asked before giving up.
"I know her", he declared.
She accepted this answer with a nod of the head and asked a last question on a different matter. "Why do you keep trying to help me fix my personal damage when you gave up on yourself?" She had wondered about the reason behind his incessant prying many times. He always seemed to put an extra effort into figuring out her life.
His answer was simple. "Easier to fix other people's problems."
"Guess that's why we're doctors", she replied.
He smiled and took a sip of his scotch. She mimicked his actions.
A.N.: So I hope you appreciated this little fic and my take on their relationship. Please tell me what you liked or/and what you disliked. You can tell me pretty much anything as long as it is constructive. I aim to become better at writing.
To the people who are also reading my other story, I promise I am thinking about updating it soon. I just got caught up in writing this. I hope you'll excuse me.