A/N: Okay - so I've decided this story is a plot bunny that is going to take over. - moves aside - On the birght side, I get to rewatch Season Two which is my favorite. I feel almost fradulant, because the next - thinks - two chapters will use a lot of show dialog, but I'm throwing some orginal stuff in as well. I'm going to follow the show until episode six, spin - where I'm going to start to veer away from what happened on the show. I've alread laid groundwork for it in this chapter - points to anyone who can pick it up!! I'm seriously excited about this idea - so review, people! I am an attention whore in need of constant reassurance!
Of course he avoided her – he had ran out of her house in the middle of the night – so she scarcely saw him over the next few days. He even went so far as to actually remain up to date on his clinic roster – giving her literally no reason to chase him down, even if she wanted to. She didn't. She was in no mood to go over the whole thing again. It was a mistake. Obviously a product of her having too many sleepless nights combined with the realization that she hadn't had a serious relationship in years.
She was lonely. And clearly this had chemically unbalanced her, or somehow affected her sanity. House was not a solution to her problem. He caused her problems, but he never solved them. She just needed to get out more- needed to stop flirting with disaster and just figure out an actual solution to her problem. She sighed heavily, clutching her paper coffee cup in her hand as she dragged her feet toward the doors. She wasn't sleeping well... again. And her large cup of coffee from Starbucks seemed to scream this fact to the world as she moved stealthily through the main hall of the hospital to her office.
Brenda handed her her messages and a stack of files as she passed by. She smiled gratefully – another assistant had quit last week and Brenda was again pulling double duty. She made a mental note to increase her bonus this year, and carefully balanced the pile and her cup before entering her office. She dropped everything on her desk in an untidy pile, placing her cup beside it before turning and removing her coat and hanging it by the door. The summer was finally giving way to fall, and with it came the cooler weather. It was possibly her favorite time of year – but she hadn't been enjoying it like she usually did this year.
Sitting at her desk and swallowing too bitter coffee – she couldn't afford the sugar today, not after drinking nearly an entire bottle of red wine by herself last night – she flipped through the messages and files respectively. One message was attached to a file, and she paused at the name. Sebastian Charles. She frowned slightly, before getting up and crossing to her coffee table where she kept magazines. There it was. She grabbed the Newsweek from the pile and moved back to her desk.
Reading the file, she frowned. They wanted a second opinion – and not just any second opinion. House's second opinion. She sighed, staring down at the magazine in her hands. He was a world renowned diagnostician. Charles probably wanted his opinion confirming TB to make it look all the more solid for the press – the man was a notorious media monger. Which wasn't to say his cause wasn't a good one – a great one even – it was. House hated being used as a tool though, and he would probably make this more difficult than it needed to be. The press would be good for the hospital too, however – so she felt no need to warn Charles or his people about it. Sighing she picked up the phone to page House, praying he might actually answer.
Five pages and two hours later, he finally burst through her office door, without knocking, as usual. She got up quickly, walking toward him holding the Newsweek out like a file. No point in pretending that this request was anything less than it was. If she tried to make Charles' case sound interesting, House would see through her like glass.
"Selling subscriptions? I heard twenty and you get a new bike!" He took the magazine and she ignored his sarcasm and launched into speech. She liked to talk – mostly because it meant she didn't have to listen to anything he might have to say.
"Dr Sebastian Charles collapsed during a presentation at Stoia Tucker." He was leafing through the Newsweek, unconcerned as she spoke.
"Really? Crushed under the weight of his own ego?" She stared at him for a beat wondering if he realized just how that sounded coming for him of all people before shaking her head incredulously.
"Wow. Is there nobody you admire?" She knew the answer before he even opened her mouth. House admired plenty of people – Sebastian Charles would just never get anywhere remotely near that list. He decided that saving lives was better done through the media than the medicine – and it was an avenue House hated.
"Well, there was this gal I met in 'Nam who could blow out a candle without using her-" She sighed in disgust, turning toward her desk and grabbing Charles' chart, cutting him off before he could finish that lovely thought.
"He thinks it's TB." She handed him the chart as she spoke, steeling herself for his refusal.
"Good thing he's not the syphilis expert." He spoke snidely as he glanced through the file quickly. She watched him, wishing he would just take the damn thing and leave her alone.
"He wants a second opinion."
"Second to his own?" House scoffed slightly as he stared down at her for a brief moment before returning his attention to the file in front of him. "Okay." He stared at the chart for a half a second more and the tension hadn't even begun to seep out of her body when he snapped the file shut, looking at her. "It's not TB."
"What is it?" She glanced down at the file, wondering what in the hell he could have possibly seen in that short amount of time. She looked back up at him silently and he looked at her with the expression of someone teasing a child.
"Oh you want specifics?" She rolled her eyes and turned away from him with a sigh. He kept standing there, immensely proud of himself. She really wanted to kick him, maybe in his bad leg.
"Yeah – that would be nice. You know – some crazy science to back yourself up." She leaned against her desk, reaching across it for her coffee, a new cup from the cafeteria and just as large as the first one.
"Well, that would require me actually taking the case – and I think we both know that's not going to happen." He studied her silently, before moving forward and leaning against the chair in front of her. "You drink way too much of that stuff, you know."
"Yeah well, I thought about switching to ephederine but I've heard that stuff is way worse." He scowled at her and for a moment she felt bad for shooting down his concern, but they both knew that these were the rules, and they needed to get back to playing by them. "You'd get to prove him wrong – if it's not TB. If you don't take the case, it'll just go to some other moron who won't look as closely, declare it TB and then what have you proven?"
He narrowed his eyes and fingered the file thoughtfully. "So you want me to take the case... and not test for TB."
"No. I want you to take the case, and fix him. Whatever is wrong with him." She spoke slowly and he glared at her for a moment before moving slightly closer. She just managed to resist the urge to move further away – he would take that as evidence she was scared. She wasn't scared. Much.
"And this has nothing to do with how good it's going to look for the hospital-"
"Of course it does House! You're not a moron. This is good PR. If he does have TB. Which he probably does – he has been in the jungle for a godforsaken amount of time, treating nothing but TB." She sighed softly, glancing up at him after she'd finished speaking. "This isn't a request." The command was gently given, but she knew he would know she was serious.
"Pulling out the boss card, huh? I just love it when you get all authoritative – like the other night-" She stood quickly, pushing him back and cutting him off.
"Out. Now." She bit out and he was grinning, looking down at her.
"In. Out. Out. In. This way you tease me is almost-" She had finally gotten him to the threshold, pushing him through and shutting the door on him quickly. She glared through the glass as he grinned before turning away abruptly and leaving the clinic. She heaved a sigh of relief, before turning back to her desk, where her coffee and more paperwork waited.
She caught him on the elevators. She had been coming down when he got on. When they arrived at his floor, she simply jabbed the door close button before he could escape and shook her head silently. He adopted an innocent look, and she thought she saw a flash of fear in his eyes. She remained silent, not speaking as she pushed him off the elevator in the lobby and maneuvered him all the way to her office expertly. When they arrived in her office, she turned on him abruptly, her eyes flashing.
"It is barely eleven am and I have had two complaints about you already. Are you kidding me House?" Her tone was low and he shrugged before meeting her eyes.
"Depends, what have you heard?"
"You almost killed Charles with that tilt table test – which isn't even explainable-"
"I saved his life with that tilt table test. We never would have seen the problem if I hadn't-"
"What? Acted like a twelve year old who hates the new kid? You had absolutely no reason-" She was much too close to him, she knew – in his face but the anger had been mounting ever since her first visit of the morning from a distraught clinic patient.
"I had every medical reason!" He was leaning on his cane heavily, glaring at her as she laughed abruptly.
"Oh sure. How about the women in clinic who you-" She picked up a report that was laying on her desk and read off it. "'assaulted physically, made sexual references to, and when asked for an alternative medicine, offered to kill her cat.'?"
"I did not make sexual references-" He protested, snatching the paper from her hands. She crossed her arms and glared at him.
"You told her she didn't like to swallow!" She was near yelling now and he gave her a condescending glance.
"Because she didn't want pills! I can't help it if everyone around me has their mind in the gutter-"
"Oh like you're the epitome of good clean living!" She snatched the form back and he leaned over her suggestively.
"Oh Cuddy – stop. All this anger and pent up frustration – it's such a turn on." He was trying to see down her top and she glared at him, realizing just how close she had been standing next to him. Taking a deep calming breath that just caused him to smile in appreciation, she moved back a step or two and fought to maintain a serene appearance.
"I notice you don't deny assaulting her or offering to off her cat." She ignored his last remark and stared at him in anger. "Are you that hard up to spend time with your ex that you're going to purposely try to get sued or worse – arrested?!"
"You know I don't want to-" He rolled his eyes, cutting himself off and staring at her thoughtfully. "You're just pissed that it's not TB. All that media attention that was dancing before your eyes is all gone now -" She stared at him in disbelief for a moment before shaking her head.
"His health is first priority House." Sighing, she rounded her desk and picked up a sheaf of papers sitting on top of the files. She slid them across the desk to him, and handed him a pen. "Here. Sign these." He glanced from her to the pen suspiciously.
"What's this? How do I know you're not making me sign a contract saying I'll do nothing but clinic-"
"Oh for God's sake House! It's renewal forms for your credentials – which are up, by the way, in ten weeks." He frowned at her, before signing the papers without looking at them and sliding them across the desk again.
"Ever the vigilant boss, huh, Cuddy? You gonna tie my shoes for me and do up my pants too? Although that last one-" His pager sounded at his waist and he looked down at it frowning before glancing back up at her. "Hey – how good will it look if Charles, say, dies? Just curious." He was walking toward her door and she stared after him.
"House- what was that about?" He was already on his way out the door though, and back to ignoring her as usual. "House!" She watched as the door swung shut, before sitting down, muttering curse words and picking up her phone. There was more than one way to obtain information in this hospital.
She stalked down the hall toward the cafeteria, secretly wondering if this was really what she had signed up for. Spending her days chasing House to reprimand him, or dealing with House's patients as they cried in her office. Two in one day seemed to be a record, even for him. He was standing in the cafeteria line up, looking at Wilson who looked mildly irritated with him. She didn't pause to wonder why – at this point she didn't much care. Her irritation was increased by the smell of the food around her – she hadn't even had time to eat.
"You've outdone yourself." She had moved up behind them and he turned to look at her with interest. Looking down at his plate and up at the cafeteria staff he spoke wryly.
"I'll say. My salad is covering a free t bone steak." She ignored his attempt to throw her off though – they had played enough games that day and she was tired. And hungry.
"Cecelia Carter, remember her?" She cut to the chase, not really interested in their usual banter.
"Last week they said it was mystery stew. They owe me." He continued as if she hadn't spoken and she glared at him. He was watching her reaction, the expression on his face unreadable.
"She was just in my office crying, because of the way you treated her!" Her voice was soft, and he looked down at her seriously for a moment.
"That doesn't sound like you!" Wilson's sarcasm interrupted from behind her and she sighed as House's attention transferred.
"Then it probably wasn't." He turned to move up the line, and she moved ahead of him, cutting him off.
"I get that you like to shock people. Stun them out of complacency, out of stupidity." He was looking around them, unable to meet her eyes, and glancing back at Wilson who was listening avidly. "But this woman thought she had cancer – she had a lump in her breast!" She lowered her voice for the last part – aware of just how many people were around them. They should have been in her office for this – but she didn't think she would be able to catch him a third time that day. "What were you trying to accomplish?"
"Let me ask you something." His voice was irritated as he responded. He was leaning down into her space again, and she wanted to lean back, but instead just stared back at him patiently. "If this were another doctor – if this patient was complaining about, let's say , oh I don't know – Foreman – you'd just dismiss this as the paranoid bitching of another paranoid bitch and file it under P for-"
"Paranoid?" Wilson broke across on cue. House turned to him and scoffed.
"Am not!" She rolled her eyes and shook her head. He was right, of course – but it wasn't another doctor, it was him. And he had already tried her patience more than once today -she wasn't really up for round three.
"You're right." She answered simply, and he nodded smugly.
"Good." She leaned closer to him, staring him right in the eye.
"Apologize to her before the end of business today." She delivered the order as smoothly as possible and walked away before he could complain again. She could hear Wilson asking him what he did as she walked out – but she didn't stick around to hear his answer. She walked back in the direction of the stairwell, wondering why she was being punished today of all days. "Almost a week of calm – and peace. The one day I don't avoid him.." she muttered to herself, her voice echoing off the concrete walls. Shaking her head she continued her trek up the flight of stairs, wondering if this day would ever be over.
It was barely an hour later, when House burst into her office. "This guy is an idiot!" She looked up at him with a tired expression. She decided she hated TB. She hated it – and hated Newsweek, and hated him most of all.
"So I've been quoted saying." She responded mildly and he had the grace to look almost guilty as he made his way up to the desk. He leaned against the back of the chair there, staring down at her as she placed her head in her hands. She just needed this day to be over.
"Sebastian is refusing life saving treatment." He spoke snidely and she looked up at him.
"He's refusing TB treatment. You don't think he has TB, ergo you should care less." He shifted restlessly as she spoke, looking away before returning his gaze to her.
"He won't let me test him!" He complained loudly and she fought the urge to throw something at him.
"And what to you want me to do about it?!!"
"Hold him down." He responded seriously and she stared at him for a beat before deciding a change of subject was needed.
"Have you apologized to Cecelia Carter yet?" She was irritated by him, by this entire day and it showed. He sighed, looking at her.
"Trust me, she doesn't want to hear it from me." He pushed away from the chair and walked toward the door, still speaking. "Look the guy is killing himself! Am I the only one who realizes this is a bad thing?!" She reached across her desk for her lipstick as he spoke, pulling it open quickly and applying it just as carelessly. "If he was a Christian Scientist refusing meds, we'd have eighteen attorneys -" his voice faltered and he watched her, his breathing changing for a moment. He stared at her before speaking again. "You're putting on make up. That's not a good sign for my side, is it?" She tossed the lipstick aside as he spoke, looking at him seriously.
"Sebastian has called a press conference for three." He stared at her in disbelief for a moment, before laughter crossed his face and he dropped his head. "He's asked me to be there to confirm the diagnosis and the prognosis." she stood as she spoke and he moved forward as if to meet her.
"You are as big a media whore as he is." His voice was bitter with disappointment and she busied her hands so she didn't have to look up to see the judgment that would undoubtedly be written across his face.
"Of course I am. It couldn't possibly be that I think he's right and want to be a small part of what he was doing?" She spoke the words in automatic defense – she didn't actually agree with what Charles was doing – but if she didn't show up at a press conference in her own hospital, the board wouldn't exactly be happy about it. She looked up at him as she crossed the room, and he glanced down at her, a bit of the maliciousness gone from his expression.
"Oh whores can like the sex, doesn't meant they're not whores." He watched her intently as she took down her lab coat and when she turned her was right there. He watched her intently as he spoke. "And with that eyeshadow.." The vitriol was completely gone from his voice now as she moved closer. The insult came out more as an observation and he stared at her seriously. "I am totally screwed, aren't I?"
She leaned in, knowing that even now, he was probably forming a new plan of attack – after all, that's what this entire visit was about. She ignored it though – because House would do what he needed to to diagnose, and she would do what she needed to to keep the board happy. "Totally." She breathed, not pausing as she sailed out the door, leaving him in her office. She had a job to go face – and he had a press conference to overthrow.
She should have been more shocked when he walked in. Maybe she should have played it up more- acted more annoyed. Cameron had sure gotten it down, yelling at House about the temperature – but all she had been able to muster up was a barely half hearted 'What are you trying to prove House?' He hadn't answered her – of course he hadn't. She knew what he was doing. He knew she knew what he was doing. Proving his diagnosis. She had suspected as soon as she walked in and Cameron had launched into a spat of complaints about what House had done before Charles had waved her off.
She knew better than most that House never did anything without reason - there was always a deeper motive with him. So she had not been able to look very shocked when he burst in – she had been able to kick most reporters out before Charles went into arrest. Once he was stabilized, she hadn't even yelled at House about the stunt he pulled. She had simply kicked the remaining reporters out of her hospital, and returned to her office to hoping to finish out her day in peace.
She had actually gotten a full night's rest. The next day was not eventful, since Charles had stopped trying to use the media as his own personal soapbox, and House was even being good since he was now able to run as many tests as he liked. Even his clinic hours were getting done on time – but she had discovered the reason for this quickly as she watched Foreman exiting the clinic later that day. When she checked the log, she saw House's name there and she shook her head – certain things falling into place. She didn't try to confront either of them though – yesterday had been a day from hell and she needed at least a certain amount of recovery time from it.
So when she arrived at work a few days later to find Cecelia Carter in her office – she was prepared for it – even almost amused at this point. She lead the woman towards the elevators, intent on searching out House and having a little fun. She smiled when both he and Foreman – along with the rest of the team – exited the elevators. "Dr. House." She tried to keep the amusement out of her voice but she knew some of it seeped through when he met her eyes over his shoulder.
"Dr. House has an emergency." Their eyes met for a beat and she watched them move away before turning to apologize to Mrs. Carter – who insisted on waiting until 'Dr. House' was finished. She guided the women to the waiting area outside of her office, and prepared to watch.
She didn't have to wait long – she saw him outside just over an hour later, standing with Mrs. Carter, but staring at her as he apologized. He pulled a face at her as he left, and she did it right back, watching in amusement as he left. Exiting her office, she dealt quickly with Mrs. Carter, before turning to watch him leave with a small smile.
She was back in her office two hours later when her phone rang. She answered it quickly, smiling when she heard his voice on the other end. "You knew!" He accused her and she laughed slightly, leaning back in her chair and propping her legs on her desk before answering.
"Of course I knew, House. You know, I went through medical school too – got a diploma and everything. How stupid do you think I am?" She responded, her voice teasing him as he sighed.
"You know the answer to that." He responded softly and she felt her heart beat increase as she chose not to reply. He liked to flirt with the danger now that he was out of range – but she wasn't foolish enough to play along. "So when's everyone's favorite whore getting released?"
"Day after tomorrow. He'll go back you know -"
"Oh I'm sure. And nobly sacrifice his own meds for the greater good too. Gosh – he really is just a selfless soul after all. I hear they'll be anointing him once he hits the ten thousand saved mark. Sure beats the steak knife set I got when I hit one hundred." She smiled as she listened, because he couldn't see her and she couldn't help it.
"Hmmm." She stated non commitedly, as she ran a hand under her hair and along her neck.
"Why Cuddy – is that dirty thoughts about me I hear running around in your head. I've told you already – I won't sleep with you again!" His laughter was barely held in and she snorted softly.
"Right. It was horrible the last time-"
"Especially for me. Horrible. Didn't feel good at all." She grinned as she swung her legs down, her bare feet making no sound as they hit the floor.
"I could tell by all the moans... of despair." She spoke in an upbeat tone, mentally cursing herself for even getting into this conversation. They weren't far enough past the kiss at her house for them to be doing this – but it was almost reflexive now. He cleared his throat after a beat of tense silence, and she wondered if their thoughts had been in the same place – her living room on a rainy night.
"So did you send that paperwork off?"
"Of course, I'm a good boss remember?" She paused for a moment, listening to his breathing quietly before taking a deep breath. "Which unfortunately means I have no more time to play today. I'll see you tomorrow House."
"Thanks for the warning." His joke fell flat because of it's delivery and she shook her head, hanging up the phone and staring at it for a moment afterward. She wondered what in the hell she was doing – they had rules for a reason. But it was the first time she had laughed in days, and she felt a sudden fierce longing to have it all back. That happiness. That knowledge that there was someone waiting for her at home. A warm body in the night.. she felt a slight shiver at the thought as her eyes never left the phone. Maybe.. maybe the rules weren't needed anymore. Maybe they were both ready. Maybe it was time to take the leap and hope she wasn't making a mistake. She smiled again, fuller this time and squared her shoulders. Time would tell.