Chapter 14

House had finally told his therapist about their relationship and the therapist had asked her to join them for the next session. House met him in an office where he saw patients once a week, it was half way between Mayfield and PPTH, but still a long drive. She tried to get House to tell her what the therapist had said about her, about their relationship, but he was pretty tight lipped. In fact, he seemed down right jumpy about their appointment. So instead he reflexively attributed it to her.

"What are you afraid of "the big bad mean psychiatrist is going to censure you for having a relationship with the nut job?" He had snapped.

When it came to the day of the appointment they were both a little nervous. As they climbed up the steps to the offices which where located in a red brick building designed in faux Georgian style. House hung a little behind her, not because of the limp, nor due to the reluctance, mainly to appreciate the view as she climbed the steps in her charcoal grey, pencil skirt.

"It's not like it's the Justice of the Peace." House snarked, catching up with her in time to open the door for her to step through.

Cuddy gave a snort, giving him a half annoyed, half amused side glance. In a way it was like the Justice of the Peace. Even though they remained in secrecy at work, this submission to even one joint counseling session was declaration that they were in fact a couple, in some official sense, and it's significance was not lost on either of them.

Cuddy was not sure how she felt about House's therapist, he was part of the infrastructure at Mayfield which had managed to keep them separated for so many months. She could kind of understand if had just been just at the beginning, but not for the whole time.

House introduced her to his therapist William Joseph, for what would pass for pride in anyone else. She couldn't believe he was acting like a well mannered professional introducing his significant other and then he screwed it up.

"Dr, Lisa Cuddy, my boss at work and want to be boss at home." He quipped.

The therapist laughed and reached out a hand, he was a tall dark-skinned African –American with a dynamic commanding presence. Now she understood this man's prescience had authority, plus an intelligence House could respect. He might actually be time enough for House, Cuddy accessed which made her feel good about his therapy experience, but not so great about her own.

"Dr. William Joseph, but please call me Bill," he introduced himself holding out a hand. Lisa uttered a wry polite greeting, her guard momentarily disappearing at his honest amusement as she shook the therapist hand.

"I hope you're not offended Dr. Cuddy, may I call you Lisa."

"Of course," she nodded as she took one of the chairs he indicted in front of his desk. "If I was going to be offended by what he says, it would be pretty much a permanent state of being," she responded.

"But he has offended you at times, and worse, a few times." the therapist continued, leaving Lisa in shock. Well he didn't waste anytime jumping in, she thought. But he had been in therapy with House for almost six months, he probably knew everything about her, from House's view of course. He seemed to sense her shock and sat back trying to ease her.

"I want to make this clear this is not couples counseling. I just felt it was important to talk to you both, especially in the light of this information being withheld previously. I may ask to meet with you both a few more times, but my patient is Dr House and even though the family dynamic is important, I think his indivual coping strategies with pain, drugs and emotional stress is my priority. I think he is fit for duty, mam, but there are a lot more quality of life issues we could tackle and I'll be here as long as he want to continue coming."

"It is very significant that you have both agreed to come. Congratulations to you both, that in itself tells me this relationship is important to you. Although I would say couples counseling would not come amiss. It's not my specialty but I do feel that there are counselors that could help you. I can give you a few names. Even with just one or two sessions or a weekend retreat, it would probably really help with communication."

"God no. Why do we need a couples' counselor when we have Wilson." House offered sarcastically out of the side of his mouth.

"That's exactly why we need couples counseling. " Cuddy responded.

"His three failed marriages is hardly a recommendation, but he does have varied experience and enthusiasm." House returned dryly.

"So tell me a little bit about the history of your relationship. How did you met?"

Cuddy and House glanced at each other for a moment but the therapist nodded at Cuddy, "I've heard House's version already, now I'd like to hear yours."

"Okay," Cuddy returned taking a deep breath. "We met in college. Michigan. I was an Undergrad, pre-med and he was finishing up medical school. We met the first time at the tennis courts. I was playing a match with my roommate, when House came with a buddy of his to use the courts. Instead of waiting quietly, he started giving us a hard time. Actually he was pretty obnoxious." But she was smiling as she said it, and even though her answers to the therapist were a little abrupt, in her head, the memories flowed and even though her eyes looked down as if searching or making a careful selection of what memory she would reveal, a small smile played at the edges of her mouth as she slowly began to look almost dreamy.

House was looking at her intently even as the therapist watched House with equal intensity. There was no doubt there was a powerful magnetism between these two people. When he had first asked the question they had shared a brief amused glance, but now they seemed separate again. Lisa Cuddy was looking more shuttered, while House watched her intently as if he was almost willing her to look up and meet his eyes. Bill Joseph expected him to reach out and touch her to get the connection he wanted, but he didn't. At first he crossed both long arms at the wrist and rested them over his knees which were also crossed, but his eyes remained fixated on Lisa Cuddy's face as if he would see through her skin. Then like a pipe smoker who could blindly stuff, tamp and light a pipe, he slid his hand in his inner jacket pocket and came out with a red lollipop slid the paper off with the merest whisper of sound and slid it in his mouth, his eyes never shifting from her face.

That had done it, even that sibilant barely heard sound had Lisa Cuddy glancing up and meeting House's eyes. Yes, very powerful attraction and deep emotional connection, but also fear, repression, control, and boundary issues. It seems in places they were overly connected, which caused them to choose space, sometimes inappropriately. They seemed at times overwhelmed by their own emotions, in some ways it seemed as if their relationship had gotten stuck in those college years.

Cuddy remembered it like it was yesterday, the white hot heat blazing down on the tennis court, and they were 30-all. Cuddy was serving, when the boys came, one tall and lanky, with dirty blond longish locks, and a rumpled appearance as if the clothes he wore had permanent storage on the floor. He had an outgrowth of stubble on his face as if he had just pulled an all niter. His companion was a couple inches shorter with as swarthy, faintly Latin appearance.

She knew who the tall one was of course, he was notorious among the medical and pre-med students. He was the brilliant, irreverent, Greg House, who had been kicked out of Hopkins's for cheating and in spite of his disrespect and rules breaking attitude, had garnered near worship from students and reluctant admiration from clinical professors for his diagnostic skills and his genius in solving for X in any medical equation. He had an ego, the size of Lake Michigan, but the students felt so controlled in their regimented lives with no time but to become pale drones in libraries, hospital corridors and science labs, that they worshiped the rules breaker. Cuddy was not immune to this even though, the most stringent controls in her life were self-imposed.

He was a guy who could close down a party, play sports, have a string of girls, infact have a life and still manage to get the grades to stay at the top of the class. He was almost a mythic hero, and sometimes she wasn't sure if the tales of his exploits had been embellished in the retelling. This was her chance to find out. After she made her game point she came to the fence to grab her towel and take a drink of water. "Hi," she greeted, looking curiously up at him, "we'll be done soon. There is a bench down there." she said to him, pointing further down the court on the outside of the fence. Not showing the sudden shyness she felt as he gave her an appreciative look up and down. His eyes were incredible she noted. They were a gorgeous ice blue and very quick and alert. They seemed to delve into her soul. Wow, she felt if she had been knocked out in that first glance and she struggled for breath, that she hadn't lost while playing a rigorous game of tennis in 80 degree heat.

"No worries, don't rush. I'm enjoying the view," he said eyeing the shapely tanned legs sticking out of the ridiculously short white tennis skort. "The sounds aren't bad either," he added meeting her eyes once again with a twinkle. She shifted her eyes away from that lightening contact. A "coup de foudre" the French word for love at first sight, literally meant a bolt of lightening and that's how she felt every time their eyes met.

"What sounds?" she asked feeling a little befuddled, dabbing her hot face with the towel. 'Could she have heat stroke?' He was tall and lanky, but there was a wiry strength about his arms and chest that was definitely athletic and his hair which a slight tendency to curl was almost hanging in his eyes.

"The sound you make when you hit the ball." he said once again focusing on her face with an amused interest as a tide of red washed up from her neck and she gave a disgusted, indignant snort and walked away. And he laughed. He actually laughed at her. What a jerk! With that motivation, she returned to the court attacking the ball with increased vigor winning the game in 10 minutes flat. Rebecca her roommate wondered why a relaxed friendly match had suddenly turned into a grand slam. She apologized as they left the court and House and his partner entered. She avoided looking at him and of course he wasn't letting her get away with that.

"What a cute little outfit", he called after her. "How often do you girls play?"

Her roommate who thought his friend was to die for had paused and turned to tell him, when Lisa nudged her with an elbow of warning. Seeing the by play Greg had followed them out of the gate.

"Come on, I was just teasing, don't hold a grudge." He turned to her friend.

"I'm only asking for my friend Ben," he said nodding towards his friend, who waved shyly and started to walk toward them. "He's an undergrad pre-med transfer and doesn't know many people yet. Perhaps we could get together for a doubles match?"

"We're freshman, Lisa's pre-med, and I'm psychology," Rebecca volunteered.

"Pre-med huh, "he said looking at her with increased interest. "I would have thought Art History."

"Why?" Lisa couldn't resist the bait even when she knew it was going no where good.

"You are just too young and cute to be stuck in a lab with a dead cat."

"I guess you think it would be better to be stuck in a dark room with a hundred hormonal jerks telling me I've got Mona Lisa smile and Venus di Milo's..."

"Yep, I agree, Venus has nothing on you," he said deliberately ogling her breast, plus you've got both arms and a mean backhand. I'm at the medical school myself..."

"I know who you are." Lisa interrupted rudely, irritated at herself for giving away the fact that people talked about him, and that she cared enough to listen. "And to the contrary, I have no problems at all imagining you stuck in a lab with your own personal cadaver. Poor cadaver."

"Okay, Lisa? "he said her name laconically, rocking back on his heels as he quested for her last name with a raised brow.

Cuddy had given an indignant toss of her head remaining resolutely mute.

"I'm sure I'll see you around." seeming more amused and intrigued by her behavior, than not. He was probably used to girls falling at his feet because the bad-boy image.

"Not if I see you first." Lisa had mumbled under her breath turning on her heels and leaving her surprised friend in her wake. And he had laughed again, that abrupt cackle that sounded like a rusty car.

The next time she met him he had known everything about her including that she was a 17 -year- old freshman, having skipped a couple grades in elementary school. From then on he had called her jail bait and seemed to love to torment her and treat her like she was 12. As hard is it was to think, because he had been so disrespectful, but she began to miss his original admiration. It had been the first time a man in his twenties almost ten years her senior had looked at her like she was a woman. Even though their friends were dating, they didn't see each other that frequently, sometimes she felt he was deliberately avoiding her. So she had gotten her roommate to pump his friend Ben. And he said House was closed mouthed, he didn't let anyone in, he had lots of admirers but not many friends. Ben said he called you a jailbait, heartbreaker once when he was drunk." Rebecca continued. "I've seen the way he looks at you some times, he likes you, but he feels you are too much younger than him."

So the next semester, she had managed to wangle her way into his Endocrinology class as an audit. She didn't have the prerequisites to officially take the class. She had to get three professors to write notes for her to even audit, that was not hard since she was at the top of her class, and had gotten most of her introductory science classes over by advanced placement, and starting college during an accelerated honors summer semester. Once she was in his class is when their friendship had really began. Where the codependency began. They ended up in the same study group and he would tutor her, he had taken the class before. The semester he was dismissed from Hopkins. But strangely enough when it came to taking test, he would often glance furtively at her paper. She remembered confronting him about it once.

"I know you know this stuff, you're helping me, so why do you need to cheat, are you trying to get thrown out again?"

"Most of the time I take test really well, but sometimes, I have a hard time focusing. I think it's you." He pouted at her. " I have to glance at your breasts every every ten minutes," he teased. It was the first time he had said something sexual since that first day, and she blushed looking away from him and then quickly back.

"You are such a jerk. I don't know why I put up with you. Don't involve me in your next cheating scandal. You may not mind if you end up having to get your degree from a Med school in the Grenadines, but I would. Okay." she said indignantly.

"Because you want me to be your tutor. " he shot back.

"I don't really need a tutor," she returned. "I could manage with just the study group."

"Just wait to you get to advanced Biology, Anatomy and Chemistry, you are going to need me then." he challenged her with a sensuous curve to his mouth that let her know his meaning. Why after treating her like a kid for the past year, he was suddenly flirting with her again. Of course, it was because she had dated one guy more than three times, she didn't know how he knew, perhaps he was getting information from her roommate Rebecca.

She blinked when she heard the therapist give her a prompt. " I know this may be a little sensitive, because you're bound to have different versions of it, but how did the relationship end?"

This time the therapist noted they did not glance at each other and they both shut down. It was predictable, no one liked to talk about the end of a relationship no matter how long ago it was, or how young they were at the time. He wondered if perhaps he should have asked Lisa Cuddy, to see him alone, because for the first time she looked not only uncooperative, but almost wild with fear. Her eyes searching the room seemingly for a route of escape. Like a bug caught under a glass.

It was too late to undo this, thought Bill, because there was House her mate the man that loved the mystery above all except perhaps this woman, was looking for all the world like the little boy who was holding the jar down and noting the bugs wild gyrations with interest. House would have his answer, whether now or later. Here was better Bill thought looking at the small almost fragile woman with some sympathy, at least he would give her a safe environment into which to confess. He had no idea why he thought that, he did not think House dangerous to anyone but himself, but right now she looked like a woman with a secret she would die to keep. No, his judgment had been off, this was not typical at all. Why would he expect anything to do with Greg House to be so?