Hello everyone! It has been... quite some time.
Long story short: I studied for my finals, moved flats, took my finals, took a couple weeks off, started work, which is now kicking my ass. I had hoped I would have the time and energy to get writing done this summer, but sadly that won't happen until August. :(
In the meantime, thank you for your patience. I hope you guys are still here...
I hope you'll enjoy this one. It's set in the early seasons. Please give your exhausted and slightly-insecure-because-it's-been-so-long writer a review? :)
79. I saved you a seat.
House stopped listening to Wilson the second he spotted Cuddy walking towards him. With delight, he watched her hips sway in her fitted silky blue dress.
"Saved you a seat," he said as he patted the bar stool next to him before she could speak.
"Not so much 'saved' as no one but me wants to be seen near you," Wilson commented as he took a sip of his drink.
"Need to introduce you to someone," Cuddy said.
He considered her for a second. "Ten clinic hours."
She scoffed. "That wasn't our deal, House."
"Our deal was I wear a penguin suit and show up to yet another charity event, and I get two weeks off clinic duty. It didn't involve talking to anyone."
"It did, actually," Wilson intervened.
House scowled at him. "Who asked you?"
Cuddy raised her eyebrows expectantly. With no one on his side, he rolled his eyes and let Cuddy drag him away, whining something about her flaunting him to benefactors to get more money to spend on fancy lingerie and low-cut tops – but not without staring at her perfect ass as she walked ahead of him.
He managed to be on his best behaviour for approximately two minutes, which was exactly how long Cuddy needed him for. She let him excuse himself and he retreated to the bar with a sigh of relief. He didn't know how she managed to do that all night long, coming up with small talk and smiling through the boredom…
Wilson chatted with him some more, had another drink, and Cuddy borrowed him again (this time he called her his pimp). When he came back, Wilson was flirting with a nurse he'd seen a couple times in paediatrics. When she saw House approach, she quickly invited Wilson to dance, which he couldn't refuse.
With nothing else to do, House sat at the bar and watched everyone else. Well, he tried to – but Cuddy in her bright blue dress and flowing dark curls kept snatching his attention. She was flying from department heads to rich old white guys, introducing people together, making small talk for a few minutes and laughing and smiling and being charming and accepting to dance from time to time.
Half an hour passed, and he hadn't seen her take a break. She was barely sipping from her champagne flute. But he knew her – at some point she was going to want to have a real interaction. Or at least rehydrate or eat a couple canapés or step out of her stilettos for a minute.
He waited until he was able to catch her glance and raised his glass at her, gesturing at the – still empty – stool beside him. Cuddy smiled and shook her head no.
He looked around. Chase and Cameron were dancing together. He was devouring her with his eyes and she seemed bored. Wilson was talking in a darker corner with the next Mrs Wilson. Foreman had left early.
House tugged at the bowtie around his neck, reminding himself of the two weeks off clinic duty. God, he was bored. How he longed to just verbally abuse someone… any of the rich old white guys ogling Cuddy's chest would be his top choice.
He glanced at his watch. It was getting late. Guests would be starting to leave soon.
An hour later, Cuddy finally sat next to him and ordered a martini.
She looked at him and blew a raspberry. "My work here is done."
Somehow, he'd forgotten it wasn't a party for her, either. He regretted a little taunting her about not being a real doctor. Although, granted, she didn't do a lot of doctoring these days, managing a major hospital took just as much toil and effort. And as a woman she had to work even harder to earn the respect of her male counterparts.
What she did, not just tonight, but every day… he wouldn't, and couldn't do it, not in a million years.
Maybe it was the few drinks he'd had talking, but… she also had to work hard to save his job, every time he put it on the line. He made her life hell. She had no reason to save his ass every time. Any other dean in their right mind would have fired him years ago. And yet…
He thought of freshman Lisa Cuddy in med school, handing him her syllabus over the counter, overly ambitious, a chip on her shoulder, knew how to party. He looked at who she was now.
"You wanna dance?"
She raised her eyebrows. "We haven't danced since med school."
"I still have moves."
"Still implies you had them to begin with."
"Harsh, Cuddy."
They smiled. She looked around – the benefactors were gone. The band was still playing half-heartedly. There were still a few couples slowly dancing together – all of them her employees, she recognised.
"Okay."