Rediscovery

By Ellie J.

Disclaimer: I don't own House or Cuddy or anything else associated with the show. I'm just having fun.

A/N: Sorry it's been so long. I had written the chapter, but after I re-read it, I realized that I accidentally wrote a chapter to another story. That is to say that I enjoyed what I wrote, but ultimately it didn't fit with what I'm trying to do here. So to make a long story short (too late!) I had to re-think what I wanted to do with this chapter and re-write it. But this does mean that sometime in the future there will probably be an amazingly short period between chapters as I recycle (with some minor adjustments) the one I originally wrote.

Chapter 4

Cuddy studied herself in the mirror as she took off her wet clothes. She could see a bruise beginning to form where the seatbelt had jerked against her shoulder. Her face was covered with little scrapes from the air bag, and her hair was looking a little crazier than she usually preferred. Cuddy decided that she could at least do something about her hair and began to rummage around in her bag looking for the hairbrush she knew she had packed.

"Bingo," she said to herself as she found it. She brushed her hair, ignoring the ache in her arms as she pulled it back into a ponytail. She then went back to the bag to look for some dry clothes to put on. After a little consideration she decided to wear the sweats that she had originally packed to sleep in. All of her other clothing was a little too ... professional for being stranded with a miserable jackass during a blizzard.

She pulled out the sweatshirt and stopped. It was the Michigan one she had bought at Homecoming several years back. A small smile came to her lips as she lightly traced the letters with her fingers.

Looking back, she realized it was semi-miraculous that the two of them even met in the first place. She had been an undergrad. He had been in Medical School. They didn't know any of the same people or participated in any of the same activities. She chuckled lightly as she remembered the day that they met.

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Cuddy walked into the auditorium where the lecture was being held and began looking for a seat. She eventually opted for a seat in the back where there weren't quite as many people and she could spread out a bit for better note taking. Her Political Science professor had offered them extra credit if they attended one of the lectures that the Sociology Department was sponsoring. She didn't really need the extra credit, but she preferred to be prepared.

Cuddy mentally checked off her schedule for the evening as she waited for the lecture to start. After this, she was going to the library to do research for a term paper that was due in her Biology course. Then she had a History study group meeting at 9:00 p.m. in her dorm's lounge, followed by reading and taking notes on the latest chapters assigned for Econ. Her thoughts were pulled back to the present as the lights dimmed. She pulled out her pen as the speaker stepped up to the podium.

Cuddy hadn't been there five minutes before she came to the conclusion that this woman did not know what she was talking about. She kept rambling on about how studying the interactions between the nucleus and electrons in atoms could help people learn how to handle hostage situations better. Cuddy had a difficult time wrapping her head around this premise, but what made it even worse was that this woman obviously had no idea how the nucleus and electrons of an atom interacted with one another which made all of her 'groundbreaking points' invalid.

She closed her eyes for a moment and thought about how she could be at the library studying instead of listening to this drivel.

"You're not imagining some hot lesbian fantasy with this idiotic woman, are you?" she heard a voice next to her whisper. "You could do so much better."

Cuddy turned around and saw a man with unruly brown hair and very blue eyes smirking at her. She gave him a dirty look and turned back to her notes, determined to ignore him. He chuckled next to her. The stranger then proceeded to spend the rest of the lecture making comments in Cuddy's ear about where exactly the lecturer's theories went wrong, what kind of underwear she was probably wearing and who she slept with to get this gig.

Cuddy was torn between annoyance and amusement, but strove to keep her face blank. She was determined not to embarrass herself by either sticking her pen in this loon's leg, or falling out of her seat in laughter. It wasn't until he started singing a little ditty about electrons and the Apple Dumpling Gang, that she finally lost control and began to giggle. Tears fell down her face as she attempted to stifle her laughter. She turned to try and glare at him, but he only stared at her with a triumphant grin on his face.

The lecture ended shortly thereafter, and Cuddy turned to confront her tormentor, but he was ready for her.

"You have remarkable focus for someone your age," he told her.

"Excuse me?"

"Normally when I do that to someone in your age group, I get shushed, smacked or laughed at within five minutes. You held out for over a half an hour. I'm impressed."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You annoy people like this regularly?"

"I'm just conducting some research on irritability levels in people of various age groups," he paused for a moment before he continued. "Plus, I just really like watching people get annoyed. Are you hungry? Let's go grab something to eat," he said as they got out of their seats and headed towards the exit.

She snorted. "I'm not having dinner with you."

"Why?"

"One, I don't know you. Two, you're a self-admitted jerk. And three, I have to study."

"My name is Greg House. That takes care of the first problem." Cuddy's eyes widened at his name. "I see you've heard of me," he said smugly.

"You do have a bit of a reputation," she said cautiously.

"That I'm an irresistible genius?" he asked.

"No, that you're insane. Brilliant, but insane. And a huge jackass." She said matter-of-factly as she opened the door to the building and he followed her out.

"I really can't deny any of that," he replied. "But still come and eat with me."

"Again, why?"

"One, you know who I am now. Two, I may be a jerk, but I am never boring. And three, you really don't need to study."

"I don't?" she said sarcastically.

"No. You came to this waste of time," he said as he gestured to the building behind them, "to get some extra credit. But I can't see someone with your focus having problems with grades. You're a classic overachiever. You probably get pissed off when you get an A- on something instead of an A. You tell yourself that you don't have time for frivolous things like parties and hanging out with other people. You have goals," he said mockingly. "Things that you have to accomplish. But at the same time, you're lonely."

Cuddy felt herself stiffen at his words. He had struck a nerve. So she studied a lot – so what? Her grades were beginning to drop a little and she needed them if she was going to get into Medical School. And as for friends …

"I have lots of friends," she told him.

"No, you have 'Study Buddies'," he said knowingly. "Other people who share your classes that you get together with to go over notes and make fun of the professors. But when was the last time you just hung out with someone without having some sort of academic motive behind it? When was the last time you really laughed like you did back in the lecture?"

Cuddy felt her stomach quake. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she had really let loose and laughed, but she wouldn't tell him that. "I laugh all of the time. And I go to parties every weekend. I'm a regular party pants," she said haughtily.

"Party pants? I seriously doubt that," he replied.

Cuddy's temper hit its boiling point. "You think you know me after watching me during a forty-five minute lecture? You don't know anything about me!" she hissed at him as she turned around and walked away.

"Wait – God I don't even know your name – Party Pants!" he said as he ran after her and grabbed her arm. She turned around and gave him her best glare. He merely smiled. "I didn't mean to make you angry." She shot him a disbelieving look. "Ok, I meant to make you angry, but not so much that it would drive you away," he took a deep breath and continued on. "I'm just saying that you're the type of person who's going to have a heart attack by the time you're thirty-two if you don't learn to relax a little. Get some hobbies. Do something non-work related. Start by eating with me."

She was surprised to feel herself begin to waver. He was an asshole. Why would she want to have a meal with him? Why was he so determined to have a meal with her? Was this how he picked up women and tried to get them into bed? He told them that they were no fun and they slept with him to prove otherwise?

He must have read her thoughts on her face. "Not as a date," he clarified. "Just food and talk."

"Why?" she asked again as she examined his expression.

He lowered his eyes to avoid her gaze. "Because, despite what you may think, I don't think that I know everything about you. I don't know what personal demons would drive someone so young and pretty so hard." He paused and briefly met her eyes before looking away again. "And I find you interesting. That doesn't happen very often," he admitted. She scrutinized him closely before finally nodding her head.

"Great," he smiled at her. "I know a great pizza place not too far from here." He pointed in a direction and they began to walk down the street. House looked over to her, "If you don't tell me your name, I'll be forced to call you Party Pants all night long," he teased.

She grinned reluctantly. "Cuddy. Lisa Cuddy," she replied.

"All right, Cuddy. Let's see how much pizza we can eat."

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That was the beginning of her friendship with House. They had spent at least one night a week together after that day until he graduated from Med School. Of course, they spent most of the time arguing about everything and nothing, but she found that she enjoyed sharpening her wits against his. She even began to make other non-Study Buddy friends. She laughed at the irony of the misanthrope telling her that she needed to get out more, but he had been right. She had been on the road to a nervous breakdown without even realizing it.

People just meeting them often assumed that they hated each other and were surprised that they willingly hung out together. Cuddy herself wasn't sure she could have described their relationship with mere words. Underneath all of the arguments and the snark, they 'got' one another. Cuddy knew that House cared about things more deeply than he let on, and House was one of the few people who knew that Cuddy wasn't as 'together' as she liked to portray herself.

But this understanding was purely non-verbal. They rarely talked about personal things and because of this, there were many things that they didn't know about each other. It didn't bother her, but there were times when she would catch House looking at her like she was a giant puzzle, but he never voiced any of the million questions that must have been floating around in his head. It was only many years later that she fully appreciated the restraint he had shown.

Contrary to popular belief at the hospital, they had never been lovers. Sure, she had been attracted to him, but Cuddy really hadn't wanted to deal with romantic entanglements when they first met. And by the time she felt like dating again, they were living in separate cities. And by the time they were living in the same city again, he was seeing Stacy. And after Stacy …

"Cuddy, what's taking so long?" House's question jerked her back into the present. "You didn't fall in, did you?"

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm just sore and it's taking me a little longer than usual to change."

"If you need help dressing or fastening any delightful feminine undergarments, I'm right here," House said with a leer in his voice. "Especially if they're black and lacy."

"I'm managing just fine, thanks," she replied dryly.

"I'm just trying to be a good host," he said with a faux-hurt expression in his voice.

Cuddy smiled. "If I have any problems, I'll be sure to let you know," she told him.

There was silence at the door for a minute, but Cuddy didn't hear him walk away. "House, is there something you want?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'm reheating some leftover Chinese and there's enough for two people. If you want some, that is. If you don't, then you're on your own." His voice betrayed his unease at having to suddenly play host.

"How leftover?" she asked. Knowing House, this food could be two weeks old and he would just throw away the green fuzzy parts and give the rest to her.

"Last night," he said in an exasperated voice. "Cuddy, I'm not going to give you food poisoning. I would end up having to take care of you."

"Of course. I don't know what I was worried about," Cuddy said sarcastically. "Chinese sounds good. I'll be out in a minute." She looked down again at the Michigan sweatshirt. Cuddy found herself surprisingly reluctant to put it on. She shook her head in frustration as she quashed down those feelings. It was just a sweatshirt. She put it on and headed out of the bathroom.

TBC

A/N2: Please read and review. They're like drugs to me!