December 29th

Even during the holidays, certain mundane rituals must be observed. Cuddy's lunch date with Wilson was an excellent example. Tuesday afternoon found them at one of the better restaurants just outside of town. Ostensibly it was in celebration of the coming New Year, but Cuddy suspected the choice also ensured there would be less chance of any hospital staff around to eavesdrop on their conversation. Well into the first course, with general pleasantries exchanged, they moved on to the real reason why they were there: to share information and gossip, mainly about House.

"So, how's he doing?" Cuddy kept her recent phone call to herself. She stirred her soup and sprinkled a bit of freshly-grated black pepper into it.

"My Hannukah was great, thanks for asking," Wilson said, and gave her an amused look. "Won plenty of gelt at pinochle and ate way too many latkes."

Cuddy regarded him wryly. "You both spent the weekend at Doctor Goldman's place in New York for Christmas, didn't you?" She sipped a spoonful of minestrone, more from a need to do something than from any real desire to eat.

"Yes." Wilson seasoned his salad. "House is . . . House. You know how he is about holidays."

"I'm asking about the bigger picture," Cuddy said. She'd have to be careful here; Wilson was nearly as good as House at recognition of fishing expeditions. "Is he any closer to getting his license back?"

"As of this moment . . . no," Wilson said with some reluctance. "Not really."

Cuddy's reply was forestalled by the return of their server, who offered fresh coffee. When they were alone once more she spoke. "It's been seven months. At the last fiscal review I couldn't justify keeping Diagnostics in the budget, even minimally, if there wasn't some hope that the head of the department would be able to return soon." She sighed a little but underplayed it—less was more in this case. "I've already made arrangements to farm out those of the team who stayed on, in case we're able to put everything together again. That's the best I can do."

"What happens if House comes back?" Wilson gave her a keen look. "You're saying he'd have to go with you to the board to get the department set up again? That's a disaster waiting to happen."

"It's more likely Foreman would take over as head and House would consult—" She stopped as Wilson shook his head.

"No way. He won't go for that and you know it. Diagnostics is his department, and his alone. He has a team because he needs other points of view, but that's the end of their usefulness unless they can make good coffee or answer his mail. He's the one who runs it and that's that."

"Then he should get his ass back to work and take care of his damn department!" Cuddy snapped. "I've done all I can do!"

"Of course," Wilson said. "House is trying to get some help. Maybe this time he'll find it. Sarah's willing to give him every chance."

"He got her fired and she's still working with him?" Cuddy said. She was astonished the woman was willing to try again. "Is she up for sainthood or something?"

"Let's just say no one has out-stubborned Doctor Goldman in a very long time, if ever," Wilson said. A slight smile tugged at his mouth. "She's more than equal to the task."

"Better her than me," Cuddy said, but Wilson apparently sensed the disquiet in her reply. He didn't push however, only said

"You said 'those of the team who stayed on'. Someone's decided to leave?"

Cuddy stirred her soup. "Cameron. She and Chase are splitting up."

Wilson took a forkful of salad. "There's a shocking development."

"Don't be cynical," she said. "It's sad."

"It's predictable. Office romances usually end up in trouble." He kept his gaze away from hers, but Cuddy heard his thoughts loud and clear. She felt a flash of resentment at his hypocrisy and arrogance. He'd dated and moved in with Amber, and that was just one example from his checkered history. "How's Chase taking it?"

She shrugged. "He's moved on, or at least that's what he says. Claussen's picked him as a team member for routine surgeries, with a chance to move up if he proves himself. Chase is a decent surgeon, he should be comfortable there at least."

"Of course." Wilson munched some salad. "So how are things with you and Lucas?"

"You say that like you're hoping we've broken up. It's only been a short time since he moved in," Cuddy said, and regretted her sharp tone when Wilson looked wounded.

"Hey, I was just trying to be polite."

She tasted her tepid soup. "Thus proving my observation is accurate. You're never polite unless you have something to hide." She hesitated. This was dangerous ground; she'd have to be careful. She kept her tone neutral as she continued. "Have you said anything to House about Lucas?"

Wilson's dark eyes widened. "Of course not! Are you nuts?" He watched her closely. "You didn't answer my question."

Cuddy felt a blush heat her cheeks. "We're fine."

"Uh huh." Wilson sounded skeptical but didn't pursue the subject. Any further conversation was forestalled by the return of the server with the entrees.

"We are," Cuddy said after the woman left. She took a mouthful of the mushroom risotto she'd ordered and savored the creamy taste before she went on. "Lucas is wonderful with Rachel, and she really likes him. I've wanted to have a positive father figure in the household and Lucas is an excellent choice."

"How about you? What do you need?" Wilson's voice was gentle.

"We're fine," she said again. "I know you don't really like him, but he's a good ki—man," she amended with some haste. "He treats me with respect. We're happy together."

"I'm not hearing the L word," Wilson said. "Not that L word, the other one."

Cuddy snorted. "Love isn't all it's cracked up to be. We've both been honest about the fact that we don't feel romantic love for each other, but there's—affection, and as I said, respect."

"I see. What are you going to do when House finds out?"

"You mean, am I ready to batten down the hatches and prepare for battle?" Cuddy shook her head. "It doesn't have to come to that." She ate another bite of risotto.

"But it will." Wilson gave her a sympathetic look and took a forkful of baked salmon. "This is House we're talking about, Lisa. He may not claim you for himself, but he'll make damn sure no one else gets you."

Cuddy swallowed on a dry throat. She hadn't allowed that particular truth to bother her too much, since the source of the problem was far away. Now Wilson had brought it home, literally.

"You . . . you really think he'll . . .?" At Wilson's wry look her heart sank. "How the hell did I get this high honor?" She propped her forehead on her fist and looked down at her plate, too anxious now to even pretend to eat.

"You didn't exactly discourage him," Wilson said dryly. "All those years of tight skirts, pushup bras and flirting took their toll."

Cuddy brought her fist down beside the plate with a discreet thump. "So it's my fault?" At Wilson's amused expression she felt her temper rise. "I will not accept the blame for his behavior! He's obsessive by nature. Anyway, this doesn't have anything to do with me personally. I'm just part of some . . . some fantasy he's got playing in his head. The love of a good woman, blah blah."

"You're right about the obsessive part, but you're totally wrong about this not being personal." Wilson sipped his Pellegrino. "It's as personal as it gets."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" she said, wary of a trap. "You think he—he truly does love me or something? I didn't think he was capable of that at all. He's never . . . never shown it. Not even with Stacy." She couldn't keep the edge of bitterness from her words.

"I know how to read the signs with him. He does love you in his own way. The fact that he's a neurotic narcissist with enough addictions to fill a halfway house is beside the point," Wilson said dryly.

Cuddy drew in a breath, appalled at the magnitude of the problem now that she'd had her nose rubbed in it. "Oh, god," she groaned. "He'll find out and kill Lucas."

Wilson shook his head. "No, he'll try to break you up." He hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want him to?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Cuddy glared at him.

"I think you're still . . ." Wilson paused again, "interested."

"I am not! I'm done with him! Enough is enough!" She fought to keep her voice down. "Whatever it is that passes for love in that warped head of House's, he's made it very clear he doesn't want any kind of—of settled relationship with me. He left me behind in college, for god's sake!" She still felt the pain of that rejection deep within though she'd never told anyone, not even Wilson. "But it was this last round of craziness with the little girl at the shopping center that opened my eyes to how things are—how impossible . . ." Her voice trailed off for a moment. Then she gathered her thoughts. "So I—walked away."

"Um . . . yeah," Wilson said, clearly unconvinced. "And yet you're still trying to find a way to keep him on as head of Diagnostics."

"That's different." Even to her ears she didn't sound convincing. "He's a valuable employee."

"One who's cost the hospital enormous amounts of money time and again in lawsuits, damages and general chaos," Wilson pointed out with annoying truthfulness. "You'd never do this for anyone else."

"I'd do it for you," she said, and forced a smile.

"You say that knowing full well I'm a good risk. And you don't have an on-again, off-again thing for me the way you do for House." Wilson gave her a direct look. "If you're really trying to convince yourself you're done with him, you need to find a better argument before he starts wreaking havoc."

Later, in between phone calls, masses of paperwork and visits from prospective donors, she considered Wilson's words. Protest as she might, she knew he was right on all points.

I let Lucas into my life because I'm genuinely attracted to him, but also because he knows how to deal with problem situations, she thought. Am I a selfish cow for thinking of my own protection first? She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Probably. But I have to do what I can . . . People depend on me. Rachel's at the top of that list. The hospital's second. On the heels of her last thought she realized that Lucas didn't even rate a consideration. She slammed her palm down on the desktop in frustration. When the hell was she going to push House out of her heart once and for all? How much more evidence did she need that he'd already done the same himself years ago, if she'd even been there in the first place?

"Doctor Cuddy?" Her assistant hovered in the doorway. He looked worried. "The Moyers are here. You did say you could see them . . .?"

Cuddy straightened and set her anger aside. "Send them in," she said, her tone brisk. As the door opened she stood and assumed a welcoming smile. I'll deal with all this later, she thought, and went about the everyday business of keeping her hospital solvent.