Disclaimer: 'House' is not mine, I just love to borrow without permission.

A/N: I get annoyed sometimes at how shabbily House treats Cuddy- you could say her rant takes its cue from my own…

Trouble on the Horizon

This isn't the way it's supposed to work.

Lisa Cuddy had returned to the sanctuary of her office, desperately needing the refuge it offered, to soak in the sumptuousness of her surroundings in the hopes it could allay her state of discomposure. Occupying the prestigious position Dean of Medicine required the trappings of luxury to suit, and she had never been accused of being backwards in fulfilling any obligation. However, her mood could not be lifted, despite the opportunity to relax and consider her good fortune in attaining such laudable success this early in life. The problem was, with Gregory House persistently burrowing his way under her skin, it was difficult to see her way clearly through to any 'good fortune' in her life.

With that dismal thought in mind, Cuddy sighed and loosened the rigid bun she had bound her dark curls into that day, a belated attempt to ward off the headache that had been threatening all week and had chosen this opportune moment to reassert its presence. Swivelling her chair around to gaze unseeingly out the shuttered window, revealing soothing hints of green from the foliage outside, Cuddy focused on what was truly bothering her. It was the complete and utter lack of respect House exhibited towards her. Not that there was actual antipathy or any hostile emotions between them, but it was an indifference that crossed over into unrepenting insubordination. He refused to comply with the most basic orders, wilfully sought ways to avoid fulfilling his obligations, took any and all means necessary to elude clinic duty, defied the terms of his contract…and undermined her authority as his superior.

Thinking back to the fiasco with Vogler, Cuddy pressed her fingers against her forehead in a futile attempt to alleviate the throbbing of her head. Vogler, the ill-fated and short-lasting chairman of the board, had drawn their problems to the surface of her mind, pointing out all the small ways in which House rebelled against her authority and how his behaviour reflected badly on her. He was acting according to his nature- what was her excuse for condoning it? Once she had truly seen the nature of the crisis in their professional relationship, events in the intervening period had only increased the severity of her discomfort. There had been times that she quite enjoyed the banter with House, revelling in the battle of the minds with the sharp-tongued, quick-witted doctor, now there were more occasions where she was at a complete loss. The frustration persistently gnawed at her, even transforming into resentment during weaker moments. Why? Cuddy asked herself. Why couldn't he conform? Why did he have to provoke conflict?

Couldn't he just for once, for her sake if not his own, just follow the rules and save them all the trouble? It was not too much to ask. Certainly if any other doctor had attempted to emulate his manner and conduct, she would swiftly descend upon them to deliver a deluge of reprimands and warnings to either shape up or ship out. But House was…

Different, she acknowledged. Accustomed to special treatment, he takes it as his due. But is he worth it?

Once the question would never have even occurred to her. Cuddy had subconsciously blocked herself from viewing how preferential her treatment of House had become, how much he took from her when she could not afford to give it, playing fast and loose with the rules even as she desperately attempted to maintain order in a hopelessly fractured hierarchy. She was meant to be his boss. Yet what Vogler had impressed on her, if nothing else, was how futile her hopes of ever establishing herself in that position truly were.

And it scared her that she had allowed matters to deteriorate to this state. It was inconceivable that the dedicated professional she had shaped herself into could have failed on the most rudimentary of tests, to become an entity both respected and held in awe by her staff. Without this foundation to build upon, the end result was- mayhem. And now she had to deal with this whole mess.

"Paging Doctor Cuddy," the bane of her life limped briskly into her office. "I believe you have an operation scheduled? For a…" House made the pretense of consulting non-existent medical notes, "Humor transplant, that's it. Definitely long overdue, I can vouch for that."

"Have you ever considered that it's not the lack of appreciative response to your so-called 'humor' that's the problem, but that there is no humor to respond to in the first place?" she fired back.

It was depressing to see how quickly she had fallen back into their old pattern of give-and-take, trading insults back and forth to score unofficial victories, depending on who had the last word. Be professional, woman, she told herself. But how could she overcome the habits of a lifetime? As Cuddy despaired over this question, the pounding in her head increased in tempo.

"Well, my stock response would be 'uh, no'…" House said in a reflective tone, twirling his stick as he idly leant against her desk. "At least until I figure out what that dreadfully convoluted retort was meant to imply."

"The problem is you, House," she told him succinctly. Cuddy had taken enough from this man, and she wasn't going to stand for it any more. "You, your attitude, your constant jibes about my ethics, my morality and my figure. You took an oath, you signed a contract, but you wilfully break both whenever it suits you- which amounts to pretty much the whole damn time you're in my hospital!" her tone was steadily increasing in ferocity as all her latent anger finally found its outlet. "You shirk your share of the work, you're not a team-player, everything just has to revolve around you! What kind of God complex must you suffer from, to be so narcissistic and self-absorbed, to think you have the right to make up your own rules as you go along while everyone else is doing their best to accomplish their part?"

"I've heard drug addiction can cause severe personality changes," he volunteered.

The insouciance of his delivery was another hit to her already wounded self-image. House wouldn't even pretend to take her outburst seriously. She surged to her feet, prepared to finally let loose and hurl a blistering reprimand squarely into that smug, self-satisfied face- only to stagger as the full force of the long repressed headache finally hit her. Cuddy clutched at her desk, attempting to regain her balance, but oddly enough, her surroundings were melting, objects no longer distinct from one another as they shifted and merged- or was that merely her vision blurring? You're the doctor, she thought hazily, but before the part of her that was the trained professional could hazard a guess, unconsciousness claimed her and she lost the battle.

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