Author's Note: From last chapter, the prom queen discourse was inspired by veronicca05. Thanks! P. Klutz, Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls contain the lyrics that I used in last chapter. Oh, and to clarify—Chase was with Cory from 2:30-3, Foreman from 3-3:30, Cameron from 3:30-4. I got myself confused there. ;-)

But my dreams

They aren't as empty

As my conscience seems to be

She looked at the myriad of perfume bottles that lined her bathroom vanity. She had the relatively new Prada fragrance (it had been a gift—she really didn't like it very much). She had Chance by Chanel (that she did like—it was perfect.) Ralph Lauren's Cool defied the other stodgy looking bottles with its hot-pink hue and tangy smell. She wore it when she wanted sex.

Cuddy had simply gone to rescue Cameron. House had asked her to check up on the girl (God knows House couldn't do it himself—it was 4…General Hospital rerun!). While he limped back to his office, she went to get Cameron.

Cameron looked fascinated by the woman who was lying in the bed and had looked reluctant to leave. But leave she did and Cuddy took her place in the room. She was just going to take the old woman's vitals when the lady stopped her.

"I got accused of using sex to work my way up the ladder. Can't help it if you're born with boobs," was the woman's flippant remark.

Cuddy had set her mouth in a firm line. She got this from everyone, so this didn't surprise her.

"Ma'am, I'm just going to…"

"Check my vitals. Every doctor's come in here and every doctor's tried to check and every doctor ends up stayin' and havin' a chat with me."

"Ma'am, I have a…"

"Hospital to run. And you must impress everyone because you're a woman and you don't think they think you can do the job. Honey, give it up! You know you're competent. I never let it bother me that I was a woman in the boy's club."

Cuddy had stared at her and now as she stared in the mirror she knew the woman had been right. She traced the thin lines at the edge of her mouth and at the edge of her eyes. She saw where the powdery foundation had infiltrated into the lines, filling them. Her large eyes strained in the mirror to analyze her face—to analyze herself.

"How many bottles of perfume do you keep lined up in your bathroom? One for every occasion, I imagine. Don't worry, I did the same thing."

She looked at her colored bottles, each containing a different liquid. Each containing a different personality, a different outfit, a different cover…

"No one will ever believe in you unless you believe in you. Believe me, I've learned that this is a dog-eat-dog world and the only people who look out for you is you. We're humans, Dr. Cuddy, and humans have that terrible fault about not giving a damn about one another. Haven't you ever noticed that? You're in medicine and everything, but don't you just want to scream sometimes? Scream at patients for being stubborn, stupid, and sick? I was a lawyer and I wanted to kick some of my clients."

The woman had smiled and her blue eyes had twinkled like she was sharing some grand joke. Cuddy's mouth had turned down into a frown and Cory Lind just laughed.

"You look like a child! Is that how he looks when he throws those indignant, childish hissy fits?"

"I must be going," she had informed her with a hiss.

"Sit down. What are you going to do? Worry about whether or not someone will love you before you're fifty? Someone will, but please. Get over yourself."

Cuddy was chastised, but intrigued. She had stood with her arms crossed.

"Defensiveness gets us nowhere. Drop your defenses and stop playing offense. Women are expected to be delicate creatures. Play it to your advantage, just like you do with your boobs."

"You have no right telling me this!"

"Yes, I do. Because I was you once. I basked in the glow of attention and enjoyed playing hardball with the guys. But, Jesus was I insecure. Just like you are. That's why I wore my high-heels and my daring blouses. That's why I let men get to me and have their way with me. I never believed in myself until I was dying. Funny, isn't it?"

And now Cuddy was home staring at her too-much-made-up face in a mirror over the aptly titled vanity. She was a vain person and she knew she was pretty, but God knows that never helped with anything that involved herself. Yes, the men would fawn, but how could Lisa Cuddy, the one inside of the shell, ever like what she saw?

Too many wrinkles, too many sags, too many too manys. Why had she stayed to listen to Cory Lind lecture her on the pressures of women in society? Why? Because she knew that in her heart (somewhere and if she had one) she knew it was true. People told her she'd be great, fabulous, famous, but she never believed them. She watched others crash and never become…well, never become. And that's why perhaps she never had any confidence in herself.

"Dr. Cuddy, being beautiful gets you somewhere. But you have something else and you overlook it. You're smart. Use that to your advantage."

Smart and intimidating—that's why she wore the low-cut blouses. How was she supposed to get a man to sleep with her if they were afraid of her? Show her breasts—that's how.

"I used to think when I was a young girl that when I grew up people would respect me for being smart. But, guys just tended to be scared. I'm sure you know the feeling."

Like the others, she had sat there with Cory Lind for half an hour. She spent half an hour being told stories of what a demanding world does to a strong woman. Beats her down until she conforms. Only the strongest ever survive.

She looked down again at all the scattered cosmetics. If she slathered on enough foundation, concealer, blush, bronzer, eye shadow, and lipstick then maybe she would look pretty enough for the day. Her eyes wandered to the perfume. Maybe if she sprayed the right combination they would be intoxicated by her smell—

She wanted love because she already had success. She was old enough now to really regret not having children—not having small human beings to raise and care for—and love.

"No, I don't have any relatives, if you're curious. That's what happens—it's success or love and I wanted and chose success. I believe you might want the same decision," Cory Lind had winked.

Cory Lind had died only an hour or so after she had left the room. And Cuddy had never told the woman what she wanted to have.

No, Lisa Cuddy hadn't told Cory Lind what she desired more—

Because she wasn't so sure herself.