Thank you for all the reviews and good words! They make me happy. :-) Anyway, here's the next chapter. A thanks to my Beta who keeps me on my toes. Enjoy, folks!
Cuddy paced in House's office, trying to keep her mind distracted enough in an attempt to keep from vomiting. She was visibly shaking and she couldn't take it any longer. Cuddy hobbled over to House's desk and began digging, throwing anything that wasn't a pill bottle onto the desk.
After a minute of searching, Cuddy found herself clutching the small orange pill bottle. With one quick motion she managed to pop the cap off and have two pills in hand. Glancing towards the door cautiously, Cuddy put the pills in her mouth and swallowed them. She picked the mug of water up from the desk and chased the pills down.
Cuddy sat down in House's chair and set the mug back down. She had mixed feelings about what she just did. Part of her was hating herself for giving in to the pain while the other half was relieved to finally being able to get some relief. And then there was a small part of Cuddy that was trying to figure out the best way to lie to House about the pills. She was certain he was going to know she took Vicodin.
The door to the office opened and Cameron burst in followed by Chase and Foreman. Cameron was holding the patient's chart while Chase and Foreman each held test results.
"We think he has TTP," Foreman said and extended his test results out.
Cuddy forced herself from the chair, using the cane, and moved around the desk. She took the papers from Foreman and scanned them over.
"Thrombotic thrombocytopenic purpura," Cameron clarified.
Cuddy shot her a look. "I know what TTP is."
"You're so out of it, I thought-" Cameron started, with a shrug.
"Kidney failure?" Cuddy asked, turning to Chase and Foreman.
"Not yet," Chase answered. "But, his platelet count is low, the CBC shows anemia..."
Cuddy took the test results from Chase and looked those over as well.
"He has high levels of creatinine and there's a high level of protein in his urine," Cameron added.
The team waited for Cuddy to respond. After a minute, she looked up at them.
"Okay," Cuddy agreed. "So, start him on dialysis and plasmapheresis. Keep him monitored."
"You're not... going to fight us on this?" Chase asked, eyebrows drawn.
"No, it all checks out," Cuddy answered, handing back the test results.
"But, it doesn't exactly explain the seizures," Foreman pointed out.
Cuddy stared at Foreman. She wasn't sure what she should say. However, she noted her pain was starting to subside just a touch.
"House?" Cameron asked.
"Right." Cuddy shook her head, bringing herself from her thoughts. "Run some more tests. Give the guy a seizure. That's what I would say, right?" Cuddy nodded. "Yeah, kill the guy or something. Go."
Foreman shook his head, irritated by the recent change in House, and took off out of the office. Chase followed after Foreman. Cameron waited a moment, looking Cuddy over, and then left. Cuddy leaned against House's desk and sighed.
House was kicked back in Cuddy's chair, legs crossed, and high heeled boots placed pleasantly on the desk. He was signing off on paychecks and forms, knowing full well that when he signed Cuddy's signature, it was completely different penmanship. But, he figured, Cuddy would be mad if he went through the day without doing any work. House smirked.
There was a knock on Cuddy's office door. House pulled his boots from the desk and sat up in the chair. He set the forms he was signing down and waved the female nurse in. She entered cautiously, nervously, with her head bowed down. Gently, she sat down in the chair opposite the desk. She finally raised her head.
"Can I help you?" House asked, annoyed at this woman already due to her entrance.
"I hope you're not busy, Dr. Cuddy," the woman said. "Your secretary wasn't there, so I thought I could just knock."
"It's fine," House replied, trying not to roll his eyes. "What do you want?"
"My name is Julia Monty," the woman identified herself. "I don't know if you remember me because you probably meet so many people... Anyway, I work in pediatrics and at the clinic as well. I made a complaint two weeks ago about... Dr. Simmons. He's often in the clinic when I am. I talked to human resources about the problem, but I don't think they actually did anything. One of the men in HR is friends with Dr. Simmons so... I thought I would come to you directly."
House stared. "...Okay. So, what's the problem, Julia?"
"Dr. Simmons harasses me whenever we work in the clinic together." Julia looked away.
House raised his eyebrows. "Harasses you... how?"
Julia raised her eyes back up. "He inappropriately touches me... and he says vulgar things to me. I can't work around him."
"Do you bring it upon yourself?" House asked. "I mean, do you provoke him?"
Julia's mouth dropped open. "No! I don't do anything to him! Dr. Cuddy, I would think you of all people would not be so quick to judge me."
"What is that suppose to mean?" House took personal offense at Julia's words.
"Well, look at the way you're dressed!" Julia pointed out. "I don't see how you can dress like that and expect men not to say things to you. Unless you consider yourself so high in power that you think no men will harass you or they'll be fired. Maybe you're lucky to have such a good job. You can dress like that and do nothing when your employees are sexually harassed."
"You can stop jumping down my throat now," House replied to Julia's rant, annoyed again.
"Sorry," Julia spat out and stood, "Forget I even came in here, Dr. Cuddy."
Julia made her way to the door. House sighed and stood.
"Wait," House called after her, stopping her. "I'll talk to Dr. Simmons. I'll... do whatever it is I'm suppose to do."
Julia turned around, shot House a doubtful look, and then walked out the door. House frowned and sat down in Cuddy's chair.
"Bitch," he muttered and picked up the phone, planning on calling Dr. Simmons to his office, interested to see what this doctor was really like.
Cuddy threw open the door to her office and hobbled inside, not waiting for House's approval to enter. House glanced up from a chart on the desk.
"I have a meeting," he told her.
"Who do you plan on seducing now?" Cuddy couldn't help the words from shooting out of her mouth.
"Dr. Simmons," House answered.
"Do you even know who Dr. Simmons is?" Cuddy was under the impression House was toying with her.
"Did you take Vicodin?" House ignored her question, noting how lucid Cuddy seemed to be.
"No," Cuddy lied quickly.
House leaned back in Cuddy's chair, eyeing her up suspiciously. "You're not sweating anymore."
"I..." Cuddy tried to think of a valid excuse.
"Took Vicodin," House finished and stood up from the chair.
"House," Cuddy started and attempted to think of way in which to reason with him.
House moved around the desk and towards Cuddy. "You broke the deal."
"You knew I was going to." Cuddy began pacing, keeping a slight distance from House. "You couldn't have expected me to make it through withdrawal. You know you have a severe drug problem and knew I would crack."
"You agreed to it," House pointed out, "You know what this means, don't you?"
That stopped Cuddy in her tracks. She slammed the end of the cane down hard on the floor. "House, if you do anything sexual to my body, I will be sure to give you an STD."
House pondered this. "Fine... I won't 'touch you.' But, since you did break the deal..."
"What?" Cuddy drew back, afraid.
"Clinic duty." House moved back around to the other side of Cuddy's desk and seated himself once again.
Cuddy approached the desk, limping. "I actually came here to talk to you about your patient."
"Correction: your patient," House emphasized. "And you're not getting out of clinic duty."
"All right then," Cuddy began, "my patient seems to have TTP, but he had a seizure. That's not common in TTP. He wasn't prone to seizures either. Never had one before, no history of epilepsy or anything like that."
House wasn't sure if he wanted to engage in the medical problem and help Cuddy, but the mystery did intrigue him. "Was he sick at all? Before the seizure?"
"I don't think so." Cuddy was unsure.
House shook his head. "That's not an answer."
"I don't know." Cuddy shrugged, annoyed.
"That's not an answer either," House said. "An answer is yes or no. Go ask him about his past illnesses. Actually, send Cameron to ask him. You need to put in some clinic hours."
"This man could die." Cuddy leaned in closer to the desk.
"I don't care," House admitted, blatantly. "That's what your team's for."
Cuddy stared at House. "Fine."
"Good." House cocked his head to the side in approval. His eyes fell on someone just outside the door. "Oh, and here's Dr. Simmons, so you'll have to excuse us."
Cuddy glanced back at the door, recognizing the doctor. She turned back. "You were serious?"
"I'm not going to hit on him, Cuddy." House told her through clear annoyance, but he meant it as a means of reassuring her that she needn't worry.
"House, Dr. Simmons-" Cuddy started, wanting to tell House that he needed to be careful since Dr. Simmons had several complaints against him that were later retracted.
"I'm dealing with a hospital administrator problem," House spoke slowly, condescendingly, making sure Cuddy understood him. "Now, if you'll excuse us..."
"Fine, I'm going!" Cuddy was already making her way to the door. "Have it your way, House!"
Cuddy threw open the door and ignored Dr. Simmons as he greeted her and entered the office. Dr. Simmons shut the door behind him and smiled as he made his way across the room.
"Ah, Dr. Cuddy." Dr. Simmons smiled wider. "To what do I owe this honor?"
Dr. Simmons extended a hand before sitting down. House was sizing this man up as he shook his hand. Dr. Simmons pleasantly sat himself down across from the desk. House made himself comfortable in Cuddy's chair.
"Just a little chat." House gave a small shrug, deciding on which route to take next.
"You know, Dr. Cuddy, that shirt looks great on you," Dr. Simmons complimented, his eyes darting from House's face, down to the low cut shirt, then back up again.
House paused, feeling violated. His wardrobe game had seemed more fun when he felt he had the cards in his hand. "Thank you, Dr. Simmons. Now, I called you here to ask you about a little problem. A member of my staff had a complaint against you."
"I put in too many hours, I know." Dr. Simmons gave a good hearted laugh, which made House frown. He couldn't believe this guy.
"It wasn't about that." House shook his head. "Actually, it was a complaint about you sexually harassing a female coworker."
"Who said that?" Dr. Simmons folded his arms across his chest, a clear indication to House that he was on the defense.
"So, it's true?" House leaned in, forgetting that doing so exposed more of his breasts. He sometimes he forgot that he had them.
"No, of course not," Dr. Simmons replied as if he had just been accused of the most ridiculous thing in the world.
"And I should take your word over hers?" House asked.
Dr. Simmons shrugged, arms still folded. "You're going to have to."
"It's not that easy." House straightened up, leaning back into the chair.
"This is insane," Dr. Simmons replied. "I can't help it if women at this hospital think they can dress so provocatively. They want the attention, Dr. Cuddy. They bring it upon themselves."
"Exactly what I thought." House gave a nod.
"What?" Dr. Simmons was confused at House's agreement.
"Look at myself." House raised his arms up, showing off the attire he chosen that morning, "Why else would I dress like this?"
Dr. Simmons paused a moment, unsure of what to say. "Uh, exactly?"
"Wrong." House slammed a manicured hand on the desk. "I dress like this because it's justifiably part of female attire and it's comfortable. Maybe I could wear a little more clothing, but it appears the plaintiff wasn't even close to revealing as much as I am right now."
"Plaintiff? Are we in court?" Dr. Simmons looked down, not wanting to keep eye contact with a very angry woman.
"Eyes off my breasts, Simmons." House's stern tone made Dr. Simmons draw his eyes back up. "I suggest you stop whatever it is you're doing to women at this hospital. They are not here to please your eyes. And if I get so much as a whiff of a complaint against you again, you'll be fired," House snapped his fingers, "like that. Am I understood?"
Dr. Simmons nodded. "Yes, Dr. Cuddy."
"Get out of my sight." House gave a flick of a hand, signifying he wanted Dr. Simmons gone.
Dr. Simmons picked himself up out of the chair, frightened by the mind game the apparent Dr. Cuddy had just played with him. He left quickly and as soon as the door was shut, House stood up and moved around Cuddy's desk, pacing.
What House had said to Dr. Simmons was somewhat hypocritical considering the way in which he always referred to Cuddy or Cameron. However, when Dr. Simmons stared at him, House felt completely disgusted. House had always thought his comments were in good sport, for the most part, and was suddenly wondering if what he said was too much.
House let out a sigh and picked up the black sweater that was resting on the coat rack in the corner of the Cuddy's office. He put it on and buttoned it. It didn't cover him completely, but he was certain it helped. House then made his way back over to Cuddy's desk chair and sat down, setting his mind to figure out how to get himself back in his own body and Cuddy into hers.