A/N: Okay, this chapter addresses Cuddy's totally OOC behavior in the season five episode The Greater Good. I know Cuddy was supposed to be having difficulty adjusting to motherhood, but that didn't give the writers the excuse to turn her into an incompetent, deranged sociopath, exacting revenge on House for nothing that he really did except being the employee she had allowed him to be for all those years. And the things she did would no doubt get her fired in either real life or even in most AUs. (I mean, how does a good Jewish girl who no doubt got all A's in whatever school she attended and never got into trouble of any kind because it might look bad on her school /employment record, etc. learn to set up a trip wire?!?) I guess I should be thankful for that episode in a way because it gave me the courage to start writing fanfic. I thought I couldn't possibly make an AU that would be more implausible than what the House writing staff had actually done on the show. I don't know that I've explained her behavior any better than the writers did, but I gave it a shot. Thanks to all my readers for putting up with me while I (with a huge lack of humility) "correct" some of the show's more egregious errors and missteps. The next chapter after this will be House, Cuddy and Rachael's first Christmas together, so hopefully I won't need to deal with any more of the show's bizarre-ness in either season five or season six. In other words, I should be getting off my high horse soon.
Disclaimer: Don't Own Etc.
The rest of the day passed without serious discussion, much to House's relief, and there was more sex, as promised. House debated telling Cuddy about Lydia, but he felt it would just complicate things. He also was forced to admit to himself that he was basically a coward who didn't want to deal with the fallout. What if Cuddy got pissed and threw him out?
He didn't want to go back to Wilson's apartment (or, as he had taken to calling it, "The Shrine of St. Amber the Cutthroat Bitch") unless Wilson was there. He could always return to his own place, but he hadn't been back to clear out his secret stashes since he returned from Mayfield, and he didn't want to be tempted. He had waited because he just couldn't think of anyone to help him deal with that situation. Given the content of his delusion, it would have been too weird to ask Cuddy. And he sure as hell didn't need to put up with Wilson's hypocritical shock and overbearing moral superiority, both of which were sure to emerge if House asked him for assistance.
Had Cuddy given him the boot, he could have stayed at a hotel, but that was so pathetic, especially when holidays were involved. He could just picture himself sitting on some bed with a tacky bedspread and a badly-painted seascape bolted to the wall over his head on Christmas Eve, flipping through channels that bored him and ordering porn on the pay-per-view, like some sad, lonely old pervert. Besides, there would be no way Wilson wouldn't bust him after he got back when House had done the same to Wilson for living in a hotel after Wilson stopped cohabiting with his cancer patient.
So, House decided it would be better not to risk expulsion and to tell Cuddy about Lydia another time.
House still wanted to make a meal for Cuddy, but he didn't get the chance to go shopping on Sunday. He decided to go after work on Monday, the day before Christmas Eve. Since this wasn't really Cuddy's holiday, he thought he would make dinner on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. It was a lot of cooking, but he had learned not to hate it after the cooking classes he'd taken that fall, and he really did owe her for all her help with his crises of the past two weeks, not to mention her sparing him from spending the week alone with The Ghost of Amber Past. Oh, and the amazing sex. Why, just the money he was saving on hookers to get through the holidays was worth a couple of gourmet meals. At least that's what House told himself so he wouldn't have to admit the impact of the emotional part of the relationship.
House had informed his team he was only going to be working that Monday and that he would be taking the rest of the week off. Since Cuddy wouldn't be there, he knew no urgent cases would be dumped on them, and he certainly wasn't going to have his team go out and look for anything. So, he told them to make up whatever clinic hours they owed and enjoy the holiday themselves.
Maybe "enjoy" wasn't precisely the word he used. He told Taub to follow the deeply held beliefs of his people, forged in the crucible of their tragic history, and get Chinese and go to the movies. He told Hadley he knew she wanted to celebrate, but that she should avoid drugs and random sex with strangers. When Hadley reminded him of her relationship with Foreman, House's retort was that she couldn't get any stranger than that, and that maybe she would need the drugs to get her through it, after all. House decided not to give Foreman any advice on how to spend his time off after Foreman gave him a death glare about the drugs comment he had made to Hadley.
Having made sure to piss off his employees for yet another holiday, House felt his work was done and headed out to do a little shopping. He had already bought something earlier in the month for Cuddy and Rachael as Hanukkah presents, but the way things worked out (again, his work and crises) he hadn't had the chance to give the presents to them. Oh well, why not give Jews presents on Christmas? Nearly every "Christian" custom at that time of the year was originally a pagan practice, anyway. House just hoped Cuddy hadn't gotten him anything. Receiving gifts always made him uncomfortable.
So, he headed to the mega mart to get the ingredients for the two dinners he was making. Even with his shopping, he easily got to Cuddy's place before she did. For the first time, Cuddy's nanny was actually happy to see him, because it meant she could leave and start her vacation on time, instead of waiting for Cuddy to get home. House put the food in its appropriate places in the refrigerator and cupboards. He put Rachael in her playpen and turned on the TV as he waited for Cuddy to get home.
Of course, with Cuddy being out for the rest of the week, everyone had to see her about something "for just a few minutes" before she left. By the time she got through all these meetings and packed up the work she needed to bring home, it was almost seven-thirty. Then she stopped at the market to grab a few things (she didn't know what she was going to make for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day dinners, so she just got things for breakfast and lunch). Cuddy didn't get home until eight-thirty.
When she got in the door, she put down the groceries and her briefcase, and took off her coat and boots. She was exhausted and hungry. She picked her things back up and headed toward the living room. House was sitting on the couch flipping through the channels. Cuddy looked for Rachael in her playpen, but she wasn't there. House looked at her, barely grunted an acknowledgement and went back to watching TV. So much for a greeting. She knew she shouldn't expect anything the slightest bit domestic from House, but, still, it wouldn't have killed him to say "hi." God forbid he give her a kiss after a long day, she grumbled to herself.
Cuddy stopped at Rachael's room and found the toddler asleep in her crib. Her clothes were on the floor, looking like someone tossed them toward the hamper and barely missed it. This let Cuddy know that House had put Rachael to bed, not the nanny. She smiled as she picked up the clothes and placed them where they belonged.
She proceeded to the kitchen. Cuddy began to put away the groceries and noticed all kinds of things in the refrigerator and cupboards. Had House gone shopping? There was enough there for a couple of meals. She hoped she knew how to cook whatever he had bought. Then she remembered House's cooking classes that fall. Was he actually going to cook for her and Rachael?
All this thinking about food made Cuddy realize she was starving. As she put the last items away, she saw a covered plate in the back of the refrigerator. House must have gone through things, eaten some of the Thai leftovers, tossed the cartons, and left her a plate.
As she retrieved it and put it in the microwave, she noticed there were no used dishes anywhere. She checked the dishwasher and it was almost full, with just a space left for her plate and flatware. It also already had the detergent and the conditioner loaded. Cuddy was in a mild state of shock. She came out of it when the microwave timer went off. She grabbed some potholders and moved her plate onto the kitchen table. She put her glass of water on the table, grabbed some utensils and sat down.
Just then, House entered the kitchen.
"It's The Domestic God," Cuddy announced in reverential tones.
"Gee, thanks for noticing," House responded sarcastically.
"Wait until Wilson gets back and hears about this," Cuddy teased.
"Don't you dare!" House exclaimed.
"I know," Cuddy said, "You have a reputation to uphold."
"Not just that," House grimaced. "If Wilson finds out I can do this stuff, he'll expect me to do it all the time."
"Wow," Cuddy said with a smile, "There's some serious blackmail potential here."
"Are you going to make me your sex slave?" House inquired suggestively.
"The idea does have its appeal," Cuddy responded with a wicked grin. "Are you going to make us dinner sometime?"
"Tomorrow night and the next night," House responded.
"What are you making?" Cuddy asked excitedly.
"I'm not going to tell you," House stated, noting Cuddy's look of disappointment. "I don't want to spoil the surprise."
"Okay," Cuddy conceded. She had finished her dinner and put the plate and flatware in the dishwasher. She started it and went to get ready for bed. She removed her make-up, brushed her teeth and changed into a nightgown. Had House not been there, she probably would have just gone to bed, but he was still up and sitting out in the living room.
As she entered, she saw him using his playstation. "Are you anywhere near a place where you can stop?" she asked.
"I'm not the autistic kid with the parasites, Cuddy," House responded. "I won't have a meltdown if I have to put the game on pause. Yes!"
"You've made it to the next level, I take it?" Cuddy inquired.
"Uh, hmm," House replied.
"Can we talk for a little while, then?" Cuddy asked.
House groaned on principle as he shut down the device. "Not another boyfriend you need to tell me about, I hope."
"Nothing like that," Cuddy assured him. "I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about some of the things I did that hurt you."
"I forgive you for sucking on my toe," House said. "In fact, if you want 'hurt' me again like that, please feel free."
Cuddy smiled, in spite of herself. "That's not what I'm talking about."
"Well, what then?" he asked. "It seems to me you've been pretty nice to me lately."
"I'm talking about earlier this year," Cuddy admitted, looking down at the floor.
"I thought Yom Kippur was the end of September," House stated. "Aren't we past atoning now?"
"House," Cuddy implored, ignoring his snark, "I want to tell you I apologize for hurting you with the elevators, taking your cane and . . . " Cuddy winced even mentioning it, "the tripwire."
"Didn't you already tell me you were sorry for that?" House asked.
"I did," Cuddy answered, "But I still feel badly for doing it."
"Ah, Jewish guilt," House stated. "The gift that keeps on giving."
"Maybe it would be easier for me to move on if I could ask you something," Cuddy said.
House rolled his eyes. "If it will make you able to deal with it, and not bring it up again, then I'm willing to try to give you an answer."
"When I did . . . " Cuddy paused, still embarrassed, "Those things to you, why didn't you retaliate?"
"What do you mean?" House asked.
"Well," Cuddy said, "When I go after you with words, you never fail to give it back, and then some. Or, when I substituted laxatives for your Vicodin, you threatened to do something with my birth control pills. Why didn't you come after me then?"
"What did you expect me to do, Cuddy?" House asked in frustration. "Saw one of your ridiculously high heels part-way through so it would break and you would fall down? Thrown ball bearings on your office floor so you would slip and land on your rotondous ass?"
"Yes," Cuddy responded. "Why didn't you do that?"
"Maybe because my father, man of honor that he was, taught me never to beat up a girl," House answered in a voice positively dripping with sarcasm.
"No," Cuddy said, having an epiphany of her own. "But it does have to do with your father, doesn't it? With his abuse, he taught you not to fight back when it came to physical confrontations, didn't he? I bet the punishment was worse if you resisted in any way. And that's why when patients' family members assault you, you just take it. "
It was House's turn to be embarrassed and look down at the floor. She was right and she'd figured it out without all the data, including incidents like Tritter tripping him in the clinic. At least he wouldn't have to tell her about that. "Okay, you solved the puzzle. Happy now?"
"Actually," Cuddy responded, "I'm seriously pissed. At him. But it at least it lets me understand why you reacted the way you did."
"Can I ask you something?" House inquired.
"Yes," Cuddy replied reluctantly. She was guessing she knew what the question was, and it would be difficult for her, but she thought House deserved an answer.
"Why did you do that stuff?" House questioned in his softest voice. "I've had a lot of time to think about things since then, mostly my own screw-ups and problems, but I never understood why you behaved that way. You've spent so many years of your life trying to take care of me. You gave me a job and a department when no one else would even hire me. You've kept the board from firing me countless times. You gave up a hundred million dollars for the hospital to save my job. You gave me ketamine to see if it would take away my pain. You perjured yourself to save me from Tritter. You resuscitated me after my heart attack from the physostigmine and slept in the chair next to me and held my hand after the DBS. What happened that made you want to hurt me like that?"
Cuddy looked down. It was the question she was anticipating and dreading when she brought this up. "I don't know. At the time, I thought I was forced to return to work because I believed no one else could 'handle' you and I blamed you for it. Of course, even if that were true, I was the one that created the situation, so I really wasn't thinking logically. At all. So, I guess I could blame it on sleep deprivation, what with Rachael being an infant and not being healthy. As you know, she cried a lot and it kept me awake. Of course, I also tried to do everything myself -- Super Administrator, Super Doctor, Super Mom, and with A Perfect Home, too. I didn't have a lot of experience with letting go and not controlling everything. I think it was all those things . . . "
"But there was something else," House stated.
"Yes" Cuddy found herself agreeing. "I think I was afraid I'd lose you because you couldn't deal with my being a mother. I didn't know if you'd be angry or jealous, or . . . something."
"So," House reasoned, "You decided to do things that would hurt me and get me angry. You were trying to push me away."
"And my attempting to push you away didn't work any better than it did when you tried to push me away," Cuddy observed.
"Well," House concluded, "It's good to know you're almost as screwed up as I am."
Cuddy smiled. "It's also good to know we just can't seem to get away from each other, no matter how hard we try. We're stuck with each other. And I've learned that only way I should interact physically with you is to give you comfort and pleasure."
"All brilliant conclusions, Doctor Cuddy, especially the last one," House stated with an evil smile.
"Let's go to bed and put that knowledge to use," Cuddy suggested.