He grabbed the mousse and took a huge spoonful. When he said he was looking for something more positive from Cuddy he hadn't exactly expected her to call him on it. However, he was prepared with a cover story.
"I'm doing what you asked," he paused, watching her puzzled face. "Sharing," he added, to elucidate.
"Sharing?" she asked, astonishment in her voice, her eyes wide.
"Is this a word you don't recognise? I believe it means something along the lines of 'to allow someone to use or enjoy something that one possesses - a reciprocal exchange of data, objects… actions'..."
"I understand what sharing is, it's just it's proximity to you that's causing the problem," she huffed.
"Nice. Here I am sharing my musical knowledge, as requested, and all I get is abuse." He put on his best hurt expression.
"I'm not asking about that. Why did you email the music in the first place? And don't insult both our intelligences by trying to deny it."
"I repeat, for the slow on the uptake amongst us, I'm sharing." He watched the perplexity and scepticism cross her face.
"Sharing what? Your love of puzzles? Wow!"
"That too," he said, cryptically. He just loved keeping her confused.
"Too?"
"Considering what you told me your favourite song is, I was trying for a bit of musical education while I was at it."
"Right," she said, drawing out the vowel slowly. "Right, I told you my favourite song and you're reciprocating by telling me yours? Except, of course, being male, yours have got to be bigger and better and more, lots more."
"Not really," he said, carefully. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Elaborate!"
"Nothing to get worked up about. You told me all your favourite things - book, song, movie, ice cream, sexual position, etc., etc. I'm just sharing a few of my favourites things to help balance the score." He suddenly felt horrified. "These are not 'Sound of Music' favourite things, there are no raindrops on roses moments," he clarified.
"Are you saying 'A Thousand and One Nights' is your favourite book? And how am I supposed to know which of the plethora of songs you've mentioned is your favourite? In the interests of balance you seem to have gone over the top."
"You know me," he smirked.
"Yes, I do," she said, with feeling. "But not as much as you know about me. You've got a lot more revealing to do to balance that evening out."
"Not going to happen - I'm not currently experiencing chemically induced disinhibition?"
"Why do you have to know everything about me but I can't know about you?" she retorted.
"Know your enemy," he returned, but then softened it with a hint of a smile. Unfortunately, he'd poked some shallowly buried memory.
"You shouldn't have listened," she snapped. That had to be one of the most illogical things he'd ever heard her say.
"Right!" He said, astounded.
"You don't normally. You tell me what a waste of time it is!" Okay, she did have a teeny weeny, point there.
"Ahh. You were making it very hard for me to ignore you."
"Really?" Her turn to sound astounded.
"You did take all your clothes off!" She closed her eyes and swallowed.
"And being the gentleman you are, naturally, you looked away," she said. Looked away, she had to be joking. At the time, she'd have been pissed as all hell if he'd looked away. In fact, she'd been very insistent, very, very insistent and when he tried to do the decent thing and momentarily glanced away pretending he wasn't interested she'd pouted and phoned the bellboy – to get a second opinion. After that it had been easier to go with the flow… and his inclination. Although given the dreams he'd been having since, he wasn't sure that had been the best choice. Who was he kidding? It had been a good choice. It could even end up being an excellent choice if he could just stop her being so defensive.
"You must be joking! Every time I looked away you did something reckless." That was his excuse and he was sticking to it. Not that he needed an excuse…
She looked contemplative for a moment.
"If you are balancing the score… you should be naked." Ohh, sneaky, Cuddy.
"I repeat, not currently experiencing chemically induced disinhibition," he returned.
"You're shy?" she accused.
"Since when?" he said, looking her in the eye.
"Prove it," she called his bluff.
"Now that's childish," he said. If she was going to use his tactics against him, he could use hers against her!
"Worth a try," she shrugged. Sly, cunning Cuddy, he thought.
"I knew you were born to be wild," he baited. Naturally, she ignored it and moved on.
"I thought I had to be in a compromising position before you told me your favourite things…?" she asked, with the sort of look she'd give a pancreatic dissection – laser focused curiosity, with a sharp instrument in her hand.
"You don't think being here with a semi naked employee is a compromising position?"
"No. This is personal time, there was no coercion. We could both be sat here naked and it wouldn't be compromising. Don't follow that thought through," she warned. It was so tempting to follow that through, so tempting. Several of his neurons crossed in an attempt not to let the thoughts pass.
"I decided to make an exception." He finally managed to say after a fight with his thought processes.
"Why?"
"Why not?" he returned. She glared at him. "I told you, educational. I'm just trying to broaden your horizons."
"My horizons?" she parroted.
"Well, your ass is broad enough." He pointed with his spoon. "I'm trying to correct the balance between your ordered, tight-assed scheduling ways with a bit of open, flowing, spontaneous artistry." He twirled the spoon in the air to represent… airiness.
"You think my life is unbalanced?" she asked. Ooo, dangerous question.
"In the seesaw of life you're heavily weighted to the dark, organizational side. I'm sitting on the other side trying to counterbalance your administrative ass with my creative free spirit."
"This will be the Jack Daniels you stole from Wilson?" Very funny, Cuddy. He gave her a mock smile.
"Partypants used to know how to control her work/ life balance."
"I still do," she said.
"You've forgotten how to enjoy life," he shot back. She looked incredulous.
"I can't believe that Gregory House can lecture me on enjoying life. I'm a mother, my life is full of joy," she said, convincingly. He looked at her thoughtfully while sucking his spoon.
"Joyful moments maybe, but you need more than that to be happy. You need stimulation… mental and physical."
"I get quite enough of both, thanks," she said, dryly.
"You need something more, otherwise why are you here?" he asked, his head cocked slightly to the side.
"I'm making you pay up on a bet!"
"And?" he prodded. She paused before responding.
"Enjoying the view while I'm at it." Interesting admission, he thought. Of all the things she could have said, she'd gone for the physical aspect – that being the thing she found easiest to deal with – the most superficial. If he were honest with himself, he was guilty of doing the same thing.
"Why? The view something you don't get to see often…?" So he'd seen the boundary she'd drawn and he'd stepped straight over it! She looked at him, speculatively.
"Say, hypothetically, I accept your point," she said, slowly. "Where are you going with this?"
"You're accepting that you need more stimulation?" His eyes widened, his head cocked slightly to the side as he assessed her.
"Hypothetically…," she stressed. "I mean… I don't have time for other… activities."
"You should make time. You made time for the changeling," he said, as if it had been easy to implement.
"And therefore chose to sacrifice other things," she said.
"Do you think it's healthy to bring up a child in such a regimented routine?" He, himself, had very strong views on regimented routines. He was expecting Cuddy to stick to the psychobabble line. She didn't disappoint.
"Naturally, children need boundaries, structure…" He interrupted her before she got into lecture mode.
"They also need to be impulsive, and, surprisingly, even to be bored sometimes in order to bring out their creative side. Nothing so stifling to a child's development as an inflexible routine," he said. He saw her thought processes screech to a halt. She was looking at him… assessing rather than suspiciously. She swallowed, then licked her lips.
"So," she said, slowly, "this is you offering to provide creative instruction for Rachel?"
"Don't be ridiculous. No, this is me showing you how to broaden your horizons so you can provide the stimulating environment."
"I'm having difficulty getting my mind round this concept, especially the bit where you appear to care. However, following this idea through, you showing me is… going to the opera, a concert, the ballet, or just listening to music…?"
"Your education seems to be sadly lacking in these areas," he affirmed. She leaned back into the couch.
"What's in it for you…?"
"Just a friendly gesture," he shrugged.
"True, it is the sort of thing one friend might do for another but we're not really that sort of friends - you don't even call me Lisa. Can you even say it?"
Ahh, she had mentioned that before but he hadn't really considered that seriously. She didn't really want that did she? Surely, House and Cuddy were practically terms of endearment now?
"Lee…" his faced screwed up. "Leese," his mouth contorted. "Leeessse…" he tried again. Cuddy laughed.
"So, you are trying to be friends?" she asked.
"Perish the thought," he faux shuddered. He was way passed the friends stage.
"Well, you did say friendly gesture," she pointed out.
"Figure of speech." He dodged.
"Are you being altruistic?" She moved on. He hated it when she played him at his own game. Hated it so much he almost smiled. She knew he'd have a reason but she didn't trust him. Then again, he was having problems explaining to himself what he was doing, especially as there was a strong possibility that this was not going to end well.
"Not exactly," he hedged.
"So, what is it you want in return?"
"Nothing," he said, shaking his head slightly. Okay, big fat lie but he thought it would be rushing it to say I want into your head, bed, home, life. That sort of forthrightness was not likely to get the desired result, although he knew he had to speed up on the glacial pace he'd set before. Always such a fine balance.
"Nothing? Gregory House wants nothing – does not compute. It's surreal… have I walked into a parallel universe? Did we have a bet I don't remember? You trying to butter up the boss?" Not surprisingly, she wasn't buying it. Interesting reasons she was guessing at.
"Yes, no, no and I think I'd try whipped cream or chocolate first rather than butter but I guess I'll try anything once. I suppose butter would better ease the ceased and rusty lock on the chastity belt," he said.
"Hmmm, deflection… why are you trying to get into my good graces?"
"Good graces? Is that what they're calling panties these days?" He could see her frustration levels rising – it was such fun to watch.
"You always have a reason House. I mean bypassing the obvious that you were perhaps asking me out on a date…" she paused allowing him time to confirm or deny. He swallowed... twice. And his breathing might have speeded up – just a bit. How swiftly the tables could turn.
"Date?" Was his voice a bit high there? He cleared his throat. "I understand why someone who hasn't dated in a decade would see invitations everywhere. I suppose I was asking you out… but without the date part."
"So if we went out there would be no expectation of sex?"
"Uhmm, well, if you were feeling so inclined, I wouldn't want to spoil the evening…"
"A simple non-date, non-friend evening out with no fringe benefits." Why did she have to be so specific and try and pin everything down? Couldn't she just give a little? Okay, so it was him, and his track record for messing with her was legendary – this could take a while.
"That would be a waste of time. The fringe benefit being that you would learn something."
"Would you be expecting me to pay you for these… lessons. This would be a business transaction?"
"You'd be paying for the tickets, yes. But paying me? I was thinking more in terms of payment in kind… for services rendered!"
"But as this is you sharing… balancing the score, then I've already made a down payment… therefore, this is you paying me in kind?" Bugger, couldn't fault her logic there – especially as it was true and he'd just been trying it on.
"Damn, I guess it is. You got me."
"Because you feel obligated?"
"Me! Obligated! No…" He stopped himself. If he wasn't careful he'd push her frustration too far and fun though it was to watch Cuddy blow off steam, now might not be a good time to do that, especially as he didn't want her going home yet. "It's complicated."
"You're messing with my head," she said, resignedly.
"Yes… and no. It's a balance thing. Sort of a win-win." He moved his hands in a seesaw motion."
"Ah, right, balance… seesaw of life. And who says I want you on the other end of the seesaw?"
"Well, you need somebody," he stated. She shook her head.
"I don't think so. I went into this knowing I'd be a single mother."
"But you don't want to settle for that. You want the whole thing – the full family unit including the dog."
"Are you volunteering to be some sort of temporary male role model? Considering, after all this time, that it's extremely unlikely that I'll find Mr Right now, you could end up in that role for a long time."
"Well, to be literal, I'm Mr Right Now or perhaps that's here and now. However, as you compromised on the kid, perhaps now you're ready to stop looking for Mr Perfect and accept Mr Close Enough."
"Close Enough? We're back to the article on the behaviour of mature female mice, are we?"
"You set such high standards – everything always has to be perfect but life never is. It's not about accepting second best, because you'd never do that. But, in your ideal world, there's a father for Rachel and you're not going to give up looking but your criteria has to change – to be more realistic, as you keep telling me."
"I am being realistic," she said, in astonished determination.
"No, you're in denial. Let's see… DDX for Cuddy relationships… narcissistic, selfish, perfection seeking, obsessive, middle-aged control freak seeks…"
"I'm selfish?" she asked, incredulously.
"Of course. You're set in your ways. You want everything done the Cuddy way. Neat, tidy, spotless clean, eco-friendly, ordered. She," he said, nodding his head in Rachel's direction, "was a huge learning curve for you, emotionally, physically… not so much intellectually. It sort of gave me hope that you'd learned to share."
"Oookaaay. If I'm sharing more, hence 'I' am now less selfish… in your balancing theory, that means you are more selfish to balance it out?"
"That's not how a seesaw works," he said smugly. She frowned in concentration.
"So, what you're saying is that if I've got less selfish you have also lost selfishness to keep the balance. Somehow, I just can't see that working."
"You have so little imagination. Rachel has the selfishness."
"What?" He held back a smile, it was always such fun to startle such erudite responses from her.
"Babies are all about selfishness. Me, me, me. Feed me, burp me, diaper me, cuddle me. You're just hard-wired to find these demands cute so you nurture and feed them," he responded.
"So, you are still the same level of selfish you always were which is selfish enough for two people?"
"Correct," he said. "Now back to the DDX…"
"You missed mother," she said, interrupting him. Now it was his turn to have his brain stutter. Huh?
"Mine or yours?"
"Me," she said dryly.
"Ahh. Your relationships failures didn't occur while you had spawn, but I suppose she is now another variable. Narcissistic, selfish, perfection seeking, control freaking, obsessing, middle-aged mother. Is that better?"
"Hardly. Is this some sort of romance guide from House?" She huffed a little laugh. "Sorry, I had trouble saying House and romance in the same sentence without smiling. Are you going to help me pick out my next boyfriend? I really don't think we have the same taste in men."
"Yeah, your tastes have been so stellar up to now! Present company excepted."
"Really, present company? So you're volunteering for babysitting, diaper changing, father figuring, child rearing, reliable, dependable, fun loving, trash disposing, meal preparing, shopping boyfriend?"
"There you go you see - you can't get all that in one man. Your standards are too high. You need two or three boyfriends at least. I volunteer to be the one who provides sex. Wilson is the cooking, cleaning, shopping, dry cleaning collecting, garbage disposing man. We can make a happy little ménage à trois…?"
"Now we're back to the houseboys I see. Except baby makes four."
"Ménage à quatre?" He tried.
"Rachel is the most important thing in my life. She's my responsibility but anyone in my life has to get on with her, too. More than that, they have to want her in their life."
"So are you saying you wouldn't accept a date from someone unless they had already ingratiated themselves with the rugrat first? That doesn't make sense. She'll accept, unconditionally, whoever is introduced to her at the moment. She gets attached, guy asks you out, you say no, guy exits – upset kid. The guy should approach the mother first then deal with the kid. Besides, it's not like someone isn't going to know you're not a package deal… two packages little baby and big baby – unless you are picking them up in bars and not mentioning the kid or the hospital."
"If," she stressed the if, "if I were considering a relationship then Rachel would have to factor into it early. Now I'm a mother, whatever spare time I had before has disappeared. Anybody who wanted to date me would have to at least like Rachel because otherwise any time spent with me would be the 15 minute slot between Rachel having her last feed and me collapsing into bed."
"I knew you'd do it to a schedule," he said, smugly.
"And what's wrong with that?"
"No, spontaneity."
"I told you I don't need spontaneity."
"Have you never had a relationship, where you always wanted to be around someone, missed them when they weren't there, couldn't keep your hands off them?" Surely, she was like that with Llyn?
"Yes," she said economically.
"Yes! Yes? What sort of answer is that?" he asked, disgustedly.
"A direct one."
"Well, speaking generically for my gender, I wouldn't want to be restricted to one 15 minute slot… wait, would that be every day? Only I guess that would be okay once the initial hormone surge tailed off." He got the inscrutable Cuddy look. "Anyway, I'd want to secure the deal with the mother before traumatizing the parasite with my brand of caring. Despite the fact you have brought her tonight, you said you didn't want Rachel getting to know me and then me exiting – that makes far more sense. Or are you applying different criteria for me?"
"Actually, I said 'then you lose interest'. Where's this coming from House? You didn't want a relationship with me before I had a child. Are you saying you want one with me now I have Rachel?" She gave him an enquiring look. His dumbfounded silence was enough for her to continue. "Didn't think so."
"I'm just saying that you're too rigid. You are going to miss out on short term fun because you're always looking for the long-term? Just because you're a mother? Beside which that's just crazy – nothing lasts forever."
"Says the man who never gets started – you always anticipate the worse, deaden the pain, stupefy the mind, pretend that's what you want. And you think I'm the idiot." Wow, she switched that to him, personally, quickly. He dodged by reflex.
"I didn't say idiot. Don't do yourself down."
"And you just close everything down." She dropped her spoon in the mousse and got up. No, no, no, she couldn't go yet. You are an idiot you forgot you were supposed to be balancing. You dodged the question one to many times.
"Hey, you can't go yet! The mousse isn't finished," he wheedled.
"Give me one good reason why I should stay," she asked. Think quickly, what will work… Because I want you to? Because I need you to? That was a bit cheesy, right? The sort of thing Wilson might get away with but not him, it just sounded selfish.
"Other than the mousse isn't finished?" Really dazzling response there, Greg, woo her with your stunning repartee, why don't you? That's got you another three nanoseconds of thinking time.
"I've had enough," she said, glaring down at him.
"Enough! Enough! You can never have enough chocolate mousse. I can't believe that you, a woman, can have had enough chocolate."
"I'm not talking about the chocolate."
"We haven't explored all the options that non-dating can bring…" She moved towards Rachel. "Why would we date?" he added quickly. "We've known each other for years, what would be the point of going on a date?" She spun back round to respond.
"Dates are where you learn things about people, enjoy each others company. See if you can sustain a conversation without petering off into long silences or breaking out into heated exchanges every ten minutes. Are you hiding behind the word educational because that sounds less intimate to you?"
