A/N-here's a nice long chapter. I think you guys will like the next few installments. I swear some of you are mind readers :) Read and review if you'd care to!
Disclaimer-i don't own them but I'm trying to save up enough to rent them for valentine's day. Do you think my S.O. will be pissed?
They dropped off her purchases at the car and went to a restaurant along the water. As they sat down her phone rang and she quickly dismissed the call. House wordlessly requested an answer.
"It's Wilson, I'm not in the mood right now"
"He might be worried...he is the world champion of worrying"
"I'll call him after later"
"You're afraid I'll butt in and he'll know I'm here with you," he pointed at her accusingly.
"A bit," she agreed, "but mostly, I'm just not in the mood for him"
"Call him after lunch, I'll keep my trap shut"
They ordered their meals and discussed the local sites and other safe topics.
"So…we're friends now?" Cuddy asked.
"Umm…" he thought for a moment, "why are you asking?"
"Well you called me your friend, on the phone, today with Kate"
"Prefer 'former lover'...heart-breaker'...'ex-boss'? I know how names are very important to you now, after the 'first name fiasco' of last night, so you tell me what you want to be called," he said in jest but with an element of truth.
"Well, if someone were to ask me, I'd just tell them I was having lunch with a complete ass," she jabbed back, a bit of her former snarkiness showing through.
"Likely most people would figure out who you mean, so…I'm fine with that"
"I was just asking, because we said we were going to try to be non-enemies…and I dunno…I thought maybe, we'd try for friends...until we decide that doesn't work, and then we can down-grade to non-enemies. It gives us a cushion," she said smiling with a hint of playfulness.
"Sure," he said, uncertain as to why the definitions were so important.
"So why'd you take up the shift at the bar? I'd assume you are paid pretty well at Penn"
"I was bored, when I'm bored I get sullen, I start thinking, its…bad… One night, Kate asked me to come in with her, have some dinner because there was supposed to be a good band. I agreed, reluctantly, but since there was food and music…I figured I'd try it. Then I started going in every Saturday and it became a joke that I was her lazy employee…no jokes from you," he shot her a fake glare. "I started sneaking behind the bar and helping myself, because, I'm a gentleman like that," she rolled her eyes. He continued, "Eventually I just…sort of started helping. I wasn't getting paid, which really didn't seem to matter. When the regular girl quit, Kate kept me on, and we just started exchanging part of rent for services rendered."
Cuddy raised an eyebrow questioningly, "Services as a bartender Cuddy, get your filthy mind out of the gutter," he reprimanded. "That's that."
"I just can't see why you'd want to be there, with so many people. I mean, I think it's great. You are helping her out, staying out of trouble, but at one time you'd do anything to avoid people."
"No…I did anything to avoid patients…and my boss…for most of my career…" he smirked. "There are three types of bartenders: the ones that you can cry to, the ones who are good at getting your drinks but largely avoid unnecessary interaction, and the ones that are just mean. Now, the ones that you can cry to are really more of a myth than a reality, I mean, sure there are a few of them…but…I think its greatly exaggerated by people who want to consider drinking in excess a form of therapy."
"You don't think it's a form of therapy?"
"Oh sure I do, but I admit it's because of the drinking, not because of the talking," he clarified. "Now, that brings us to type 2: the ones that get your drinks promptly but avoid unnecessary discussion…this is most of them, and I wanted to be that one, but they are also the ones that sort of smile when they hand you your drinks and act like they aren't ignoring you for better tips. I had trouble mastering the friendly afterglow. I decided to go for option 3: be a complete asshole…which surprisingly is more accepted from a bartender than from a doctor. So, I started doing what I do...mocking people, being rude, but still handing out the beverages, and strangely…there…people liked that. It's the perfect part-time job for me!"
Cuddy sat back with a delicate smile, "that actually makes sense. You seem to be doing OK"
"I'm not bad," he conceded. "I think that trying to be all-better is a mistake"
She looked slightly offended until he clarified, "No, I mean, for me…I wasn't referring to you. I will never be all-better…I have to sort of…deal with who I am…and work within what I can reach from there. So shifts…modest shifts, seem to make me a bit more functional. Avoiding narcotics may help…but that might just be the conspirators talking," he joked.
"So living with Kate, it's good for you?"
"Umm, yea. She's stable. I mean, we're all fucked up in our own ways, some are just more obvious than others. She makes fun of my addiction to ass-holiness, I make fun of her complete inability to deal with women in a mature way. As much as I hate to admit it, I shouldn't be alone all of the time. Since she's a lesbian it creates certain barriers automatically, but I still get to leer at hot chicks. Win-win situation! She invites just enough drama, tempered with a good work ethic and enough grown-up behavior to help me act like a grown-up too…occasionally."
"That's good," she responded.
"So you live alone now?" he winced, realizing the implication that Rachel was no longer there.
"Yea, I do. Matthew and I went out about a year. We sort of kept our own places…and then when I freaked at the first mention of marriage…"
Their plates arrived and the waitress interrupted their discussion briefly.
"Funny, you running from marriage," House observed, quickly diving into his food. "Sorta figured you always wanted that on some level," he said, his mouth full of food.
"I don't know. I think I did," she said introspectively. "Not sure if it was the proposer, or the institution that spooked me the most."
They entered comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the food and local brew. Cuddy dabbed her lips with her napkin and said, in a poor attempt to sound nonchalant, "Did you ever have sex with Kate?"
He had a look of clear surprise as she definitely succeeded in taking him off guard. "Let me explain the word 'lesbian' to you."
"A deflection"
"Did I ever have sex with Kate?" he repeated thoughtfully, "Umm, the answer is no"
"See you restated the question with specific emphasis, which means there's more to the story. Just tell me you don't want to answer."
"Fine, I don't want to answer"
"Oh come on," she answered, curious about their dynamic still. "Why won't you tell me? We're friends, you would have told Wilson."
"You are not Wilson!"
"We said we were going to try to be friends"
"I knew the whole role assignment there was going to come back to bite me. I can't talk about that with you because you're a woman that I used to have sex with, and you are going to add more things to that tally sheet, and then later you are going to circle around and use it against me."
"I wouldn't!" she answered defensively. "But since you won't answer, I'm going to assume the answer is yes. Do you guys do that sort of thing regularly?"
"See, I told you, you'd assume an answer…and you're going in the wrong direction. Maybe I just don't want to admit that she won't sleep with me, did you consider that?"
"Just tell me," she said, now quite irritated.
He smiled broadly, "I can still get to you…no one can irritate you like I can. Alright, there was one time a little while after we met that we sort of…" he stopped abruptly, looking at her and pointing accusingly, "I still think you are going to use this against me later."
"I won't. Besides, who knows when we'll see each other after this trip."
He squinted, "Fine, but I hope you remember this later when I ask you something you don't want to answer. I had been living at her place a couple of months, she had a few friends over, they were playing cards, drinking, that sort of thing. The one stayed and she propositioned the two of us. I didn't actually have sex with Kate, it was more of a tag team effort… It was the perfect setup, good sex, cost free, no strings…and sadly the whole thing was just …too weird. We agreed to avoid such things in the future."
"It was weird? I can't imagine you thinking that sort of experience was weird."
"Yes"
She looked at him and gestured for him to continue. He sighed, looking skyward and just continued, "It wasn't weird, but it was afterwards. The girl had the luxury of falling asleep and then leaving in the morning and we were there in the apartment, staring uncomfortably. I decided to never mention it again. Kate, in true Cuddy-Wilson form decided we needed to talk about it. We just agreed it was a mistake."
Cuddy nodded, continuing to eat. "What no moral judgments or criticism or…" he asked skeptically.
"Nope," she answered. "I have no right to judge you"
They returned to eating in silence for a while until Cuddy said, "I expected to get some bravado-filled proclamation of your manliness…and I got something else…sometimes you surprise me."
"I think I have an established history of manliness with you …what's there to prove?" he smiled at the reference to their time together and then felt uncomfortable bringing up the topic at all, so he shifted. "So manipulative Cuddy!" he smiled at her with some admiration.
They got in the car, chatting easily. He reached under the seat to adjust it back for his significantly longer legs and found something unexpected. He removed it and found himself gazing across a small stuffed dog at Cuddy, who was sitting in the passenger seat.
Her face twisted in obvious pain as she extended her hand for the dog, took it and held it for a moment before reaching under his seat to shove it back under. He looked at her trying to interpret the behavior. "Rachel's first day of Kindergarten, I drove her to school. She wanted to take her stuffed dog. We got there…and she looked at all of the kids going in, and…you could just see her…mustering all of her courage. She leaned over, gave me a hug good-bye and shoved the stuffed dog under my seat, with this look of pride…like she thought she was finally all grown up." Cuddy smiled a sad loving smile and continued, "She asked me to keep it in the car in case one day she needed to take it in with her, and after a while...I guess she forgot it was under there. I knew it was there, I just…didn't want to take it out yet."
He nodded. She looked out the window and said, "I know it's stupid…it's just a toy."
He started the car and drove them home.
When they were back she decided she needed a nap, so House returned to the third floor to check out Wilson's bar and game room. He shot a few games of pool, stretched out in on the over-sized couch in front of a ridiculous theater system and pondered the events of the day. He knew Cuddy was having a good time during most of the day until his unfortunate discovery, but he also knew there was no way to completely overcome such a loss quickly, and he certainly didn't want to verbally assault her each time she seemed unhappy. He decided he'd try to plan a fun evening, without it looking like he was trying to distract her. He went down to the main floor and peeked into her room. He liked that she had enough trust in him to leave the door open. She was curled up on the bed, on top of the covers, sleeping peacefully. He pulled the door shut quietly so he wouldn't disturb her and decided to make them something for dinner. He rummaged through the cabinets and refrigerator to see what she bought the day before.
Later she woke and he heard her talking to someone on the phone. She walked out into the kitchen, limbs loose from sleep. "How did you stay close to him for so many years…he's such a…" her eyes widened with surprise at the food in front of her, "oh my god! You got creative…it smells…amazing…"
"Made extra. We'll have leftovers to snack on. I'm guessing you were on the phone with Wilson. We have to make a pact, that so long as one of us lives, Wilson and Kate are never able to meet. They'd join forces and try to smother the world in care and understanding. The results would be disastrous!"
She chuckled, seemingly refreshed by her nap. She wandered over to the counter, picking up a small appetizer and popping it in her mouth. "You should cook…all of the time…" she complimented.
They sat, drinking a bottle of wine they took from the collection, which House promised they'd replace, although she doubted he'd follow through. They started to play a video game. They were both pleasantly buzzed, House's once astronomically high tolerance significantly lessened after a few years of drinking a lot less. He laughed hysterically when a zombie jumped onto the screen and scared Cuddy so badly she vaulted behind the sofa. She looked at his face, which was transformed by a wide smile, a sight that, despite their time together, she had seen only a few times. When they finished the level Cuddy padded off to the wine room to get another bottle, "Slow down there," he said, "I'm not really in the mood for you puking on me tonight."
"I am pacing myself nicely," she bragged.
"Right…just be careful." He watched her as she moved gracefully through the room with the new bottle and was momentarily overwhelmed. Something he had for so long been privileged enough to see on an almost daily basis, and too often took for granted, was here before him yet another time. The thought of losing that again…
"You want me to teach you to shoot pool?" he asked, trying to move beyond the thoughts in his head.
"You trying the old 'teach the woman to shoot pool so you can get a good feel on her ass' kinda thing House…that seems below you," she teased.
"I can teach you to shoot pool without touching your ass…it won't be as much fun…but I can," he joked.
"This is nice," she said thoughtfully, "It's nice being friendly and not…constantly trying to one-up each other"
"It's just the alcohol Cuddy, we'll be back to one-upping tomorrow," he replied remembering their earlier discussion and his insistence that she be honest with him about any subject of his choosing since he was so honest with her. "So…since we're such good friends," he started, "I'm ready to ask you some embarrassing questions…you owe me after my own soul-baring honesty."
"Go ahead," she said calmly as she headed toward the stairs.
"Really?"
"Sure. Whatever you want."
"You don't know what I'm going to ask, so you shouldn't be so relaxed about the whole thing"
"House…I don't care. Ask me something…whatever. What are you going to do, drive to Baltimore and scream something from the center stand at a clinic where there's never more than 100 people at a time, and ninety percent of those people don't even know my name. You helped me get used to public humiliation. Plus…I just…don't think you feel like hurting me right now. Maybe later…but…I don't think you do right now."
He nodded as he finally reached the top of the stairs and he stared off to the wall beyond her. "I lied."
"About what?" she sighed, agitated that her relaxation was about to come to an abrupt halt. "Is this about Rachel? Let me guess, you didn't mean it that she mattered to you, or you don't care that she's dead…are you trying to sabotage this because we're actually having fun, or maybe you're tired of seeing me smile? Just get it out there, and then I can decide if I want to keep playing and enjoying the evening or if I'm going to go to bed and send you the hell home tomorrow."
"Our agreement was no lies," he answered calmly, "I lied about Kate."
"What about her…are you guys…a …thing or something?"
"Or something…I didn't have a threesome with her. I just told you that to see your reaction. I was…testing you. And…I wanted to tell you something big that I thought would give me leverage if you hesitated answering my questions later on."
"Yea I figured. Is that it?" she answered calmly.
"What do you mean you figured?" he said with disbelief.
"You think you are so much more perceptive than I am…and you're probably right," she downed her glass of wine and set it on the high table near the pool table and walked over to him, standing directly in front of him, barely inches apart, hands on her hips. "But don't forget House…you may know my weaknesses…but I know yours, and I know you. If you decided to be really honest with yourself and with me, you'd acknowledge that even during the most terrible of times between us…you have always been more afraid of me than I am of you…not in a boss-administrator kinda way, because I know you barely respected me like that…but you know, I'm the one person that really knows you…the one person with any real power over you…and it absolutely terrifies you."
His mouth was opened slightly, brow furrowed, as he listened to her words, her assertiveness, and he wasn't sure if it was the drink or the surprise, or the fact that she was so close to him, but he couldn't form a single word. She cocked her head in response and turned sauntering away, "Can you set the little balls up on the table?"
"What?" he asked, now both confused and irritated, assuming she was making a comment about him.
"We gonna shoot pool or not? I need you to set up the balls since I don't know how"
"Yea, sure," he said, walking over to rack the billiards. He began absently explaining the proper placement. "Umm, now one of us has to start, it's called breaking, but you probably know that…"
"I'll try that," she said, walking to the head of the table.
"I can do it Cuddy. It's hard to get a good break when you're first learning."
She didn't move from her spot, her face defiant. "Fine, you can try it," he said, demonstrating how to hold the cue on his own hand without ever touching her.
"Thanks for showing me," she said looking right at him before she expertly held the cue and broke, sending two balls in immediately, "wow you are a good teacher," she teased. "Ooops, I guess I lied too... I've got high ball loser!" she smirked as she walked around him to set up her next shot.
House watched, completely lost in thought about what she had said and didn't realize she was still talking to him. He was suddenly brought out of his reflection, "HOUSE!" Cuddy shouted, "You OK?"
He turned to her, barely nodding his head. "I missed, it's your turn," she said, her voice raspy and sing songy as she walked over to her glass. "You aren't seriously mad at me are you? It's just a game," she said.
"Not mad," he answered and walked over and made his first shot, but missed his second right after.
"You feeling alright, I've seen you play tons of times, you used to be better."
"Need air," he said, walking to the bar to grab another cigar and stepping out onto the patio.
She finished the game on her own, patiently waiting for him. When he didn't return she walked to the edge of the patio and peered out at him as he leaned on the railing. "Hey," she said softly, now very uncertain and concerned that something had shifted and the much darker aspects of him were about to resurface.
"Hey," he replied. After a few moments he turned and said to her, "All of those times we went somewhere, and I shot pool, and you watched…"
"Yea…"
"Why not say something…why not play? I would have rather played with you than most of those idiots. You aren't the type to be intimidated by a little competition."
She leaned against the door frame with her arms folded. "When you were in Princeton, I liked watching you when you were deepest in thought. Sitting in your office, toying with this or that, completely consumed. You always looked…human…and brilliant…and…kinda sexy. It was like you were totally disarmed…When you shoot pool you get that same look. That intense, strategizing look and I can tell you are completely captured by the task at hand. I used to like watching you like that, somewhere outside of the hospital. When we were dating, do you remember the first time we went out and you shot a few games?"
He turned to look at her eyes, and saw a subtle grin and gave her a half smirk in return, still a bit disoriented by the conversation. "That…was a fun night," she smiled, gently biting her lower lip.
She heard him breathe out a chuckle. "Yea" he said, returning his gaze to moon.
"Goodnight House," she whispered lifting herself away from the wall and walking down to her room.
After a few hours of thinking he made a phone call.
"Hey!" Kate answered, obviously woken from sleep, "What's wrong?"
"She says I'm scared of her"
"You are"
"No I'm not"
"OK...but you are. What do you want? You've griped every time I've called you, and yet you are calling me before sunup. You aren't sleeping, which usually means you're thinking. So tell me what happened."
"Nothing. We…had fun"
"Oh fuck that's awful," she answered sarcastically.
"No like…too much fun"
"OK, you will bite my head off if I ask if you got laid, so…how about you explain to me what 'too much fun' means"
"We didn't fight, and we had fun. All day. Played video games, ate, drank wine, shopped…well she shopped."
"If you are calling me about this…you aren't scared of her, you are terrified…"
"Fuck," he sighed.
"Take her on a date"
"That's a stupid idea, I don't do that"
"You should try doing that"
"We will always be doomed to fail. Nothing's changed"
"OK. You know you make these final judgments about things…and sometimes you are wrong. Sometimes those judgments hold you back."
"Even if I am wrong, which is unlikely, she's distraught, hardly the time to move in for the kill"
"You are actually worried about appropriate timing?"
"Hey…since I just called you, don't call me in 3 hours…I already checked in," he said, abruptly ending the call and going to bed to try to sleep.