Chapter 5
Later…(at House's house; tehehe)
Dr. House sat down at his kitchen table, watching a gnat fly around in front of him until he couldn't stand it, and then waved it away. He knew he shouldn't be stuck in a rut this early in the game, but all the same he was at a loss. What did he do now? He couldn't very well try Cameron again, could he? She would get all huffy and over protective again. Suddenly, he remembered Wilson's previous suggestion.
Cuddy.
He could get her to fire him!
(Him being Arnold, of course, not himself, being House.)
He grabbed his car keys and when out into the summer night.
Ding- dong!
Now, this was a pisser for Cuddy. The first time in literally a month where she was able to have a nice, sit-down, TV dinner with herself and her cat, and there was the damn doorbell.
She groaned and yelled, "It's open, who ever you are!"
To her great surprise and displeasure, it was House.
"Oh, good lord. What are you doing here? You should be at home, doing…whatever old guys do at home! I don't wanna know."
She looked distressed, her hair falling out of it's bun and various clothes items hanging everywhere; of the door and TV, and the classic bra-caught-on-the-door-handle thing. Plus, the orange cat was hissing at him with a look of great wickedness in its beady little eye.
"Though this is off-topic to the situation at hand, normally I would be doing…exactly what you are doing now. Only I wouldn't be watching Wheel of Fortune."
Cuddy switched off the television, almost embarrassed.
"So, what are you here for?"
House took a frilly white top from the seat of a chair and sat down on it.
"I need you to fire someone."
"I have already told you, Dr. House, I am not going to fire Dr. Wilson. The money he owes you from whatever bet is your business and yours alone."
House chuckled. "Thank you for reminding me, but no, I was thinking more along the lines of Dr. Arnold."
The slight trace of smile that had been on Cuddy's lips vanished. "Why?"
"I have my reasons."
Cuddy began to breath heavily. She looked nervous. What the hell was going on?
"Those would be…"
Dr. House threw the papers he had printed out previously onto the couch.
"That is a background check on one beloved Dr. Taylor Arnold. He's not a very nice guy, if you follow me."
Lisa Cuddy was acting very strange indeed. Her heart was thumping so loudly, House could hear it. She stared at the papers while House thought, and then, she began to cry.
And cry.
And cry.
"Dr. Cuddy, what's the matter?" House was truly lost. He had made one patient cry once, but that was a long time ago.
She didn't say anything, she just cried. It was a big stream of constant tears, rolling from her eyes, down her face, and onto her top.
House joined Cuddy on the couch. He kept his distance, because Cuddy was scaring him.
"Cuddy. What is the matter? Dirt to Cuddy!"
Nothing.
"Jesus, Cuddy, you're starting to annoy me."
Cuddy sniffed and sniffed again. "I know it all, House."
"You do? About Arnold?"
She nodded.
"Why the hell did you hire him, then?" He practically yelled in a panic.
"House, please don't yell." Cuddy kept her head down.
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
"I didn't have a choice, alright? I knew it all when I hired him, but…I didn't have a choice!" House knew she was delirious- she actually fell into House and began to cry into his shoulder. He felt a strange urge to put his hand on her back and pat it, but he restrained himself.
"Lisa, what do you mean, you didn't have a choice?"
Through the muffled tears, he could make out her story:
"He…came to me…a while…ago," she said, her sentence broken by sobs. "He…told…me…if I didn't hire him…he'd…he'd…he'd…" Tears once more, but House had heard enough. This had gone way too far.
He let her cry into his shirt for a few more seconds before pushing her away gently. He got a glimpse of her face; saltwater trails lined her face and her eyes were discolored and puffy. She looked awful.
"Lisa, did he threaten you?"
She nodded, drying her tears with pair of pants she had swiped from the side of the couch.
"I didn't have a choice. I had to. I'm so sorry; I knew it was wrong."
House didn't say anything.
"Is that all?" She said, looking at her cat and not at the doctor she was facing.
"Yes. Thank you."
The next morning, Wilson was waiting in House's office when he came in, armed with more papers and a fresh bottle of Vicoden, of which he opened and swallowed two or three before speaking.
"Taylor Arnold is no doctor," House said.
"I thought we had already established that fact." Wilson raised an eyebrow.
"I wasn't finished. I talked to Cuddy yesterday. Went to her house, for god's sake," House stopped. "No pun intended."
"Good! What did she say?"
"She barely said anything…she mostly cried. Dr. Arnold threatened her to hire him." Suddenly, it dawned on him; he had gone to see Cuddy in the middle of a meeting with Arnold!
"Oh, shit!" House exclaimed.
Wilson was startled. "What?"
House grabbed his cane and quickly walked to Cuddy's office. He peered around the corner and looked in without her seeing.
She was inspecting her arm, which was adorned with a big black and blue spot right on the bicep, where no one could see if you wore the right shirt. She stroked at it, giving a cry out in pain.
He went back to his office, where Wilson was waiting, in shock.
"Son of a bitch!" The cane rose and fell, thumping and nearly breaking on the seat of a chair.
"What the hell?"
"I lied. He didn't threaten her, he hurt her! Giant bruise, right on her arm! Probably other places, too. I'm afraid to know." House spoke in broken sentences.
"What do we do? We know he's dangerous, but Cameron doesn't, and she's not going to believe us."
Dr. House shook his head, inspecting the cane he had nearly broken in two.
"No idea. Should I go see Cameron again?"
"What have you got to loose?"
"I'll see her on break."
"Want me to go check up on Cuddy." Wilson wasn't asking.
"Sure. I don't care if you tell her…just make sure the damned Taylor doesn't go within 10 feet of her, or I'll be forced to bash his head in half."
"Will do." Wilson left the office, and House stood alone, for a long time. He really didn't know what to do. He felt so lost.
"Cameron?"
Cameron looked to see who was addressing her, and when she saw House approaching her, she rolled her eyes.
"Cameron?" He repeated.
"What do you want?"
"Nothing. Just…"
"I'm busy."
"Like hell you are," House muttered.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. I was just wondering…hit me."
"Excuse me?"
"Hit me in the arm. Hard as you can."
"No!" She looked appalled.
"Why not?"
"Because…"
"Because you're afraid you'll hurt the cripple? Knock me over?"
"Maybe."
"You serious? Puh-leeze." He was trying to lighten the mood; a mad Cameron was not exactly an asset to him or any of the patients she would treat.
"Why do you want me to hit you?"
"Just…show me that you can."
"Seriously?"
"Don't try to tell me that you've never wanted to hit me."
"True, that would be a lie."
"So now you've got your chance. Hit me in the arm, for god's sake. You don't get this chance every day."
"Okay…" She looked unsure. "You're positive?"
"Yes. Hit me."
She barely slapped it.
"C'mon, I know you're stronger than that."
This time, it was more of a thud.
"Wimp, " House teased.
"What did you call me?" Cameron asked, in almost a flirty way.
"I called you a wimp. And, you're boyfriend sells drugs."
"Huh?"
"I said," House said, yelling so he get her to become really angry. Maybe she would take all of her anger out in his arm. "You're boyfriend sells drugs!"
Cameron raised her fist and gave him the hardest punch he had ever had. He flew backwards on his bad leg, falling to the ground on his ass. She came over and put her foot on his chest, almost in triumph.
"Don't you ever," she warned, breathing heavily with anger, "Insult Taylor again. Understand?"
House nodded, but couldn't help throwing in a comment. "You know, from this angle, if you were wearing a skirt, I could see you're underwear."
Cameron took her foot off of his chest. "See you around." She replied. Hopefully that meant no hard feelings.
He had tested her to see if she could protect herself if Taylor ever got rough and tumble with her. The fact that she had practically broken the bone should have put his mind at ease…too bad it didn't, and House had a feeling that no matter how hard she hit, it wouldn't.
What happens next? It may look like I'm stuck in a ditch, but I'm not…I've got an angle…and what did I say about Cuddy? I said she was going to be a big part and lookey, there she is!
Tune into the next episode of Physical Therapy to find out!
-Thanks,
Sissors.