On the way to the hospital, she stopped at a drugstore and bought a pregnancy test.
Cuddy's mind was going a mile a minute, thinking of all the future scenarios that might come to be. She couldn't even concentrate enough to gloat when Wilson stopped by her office to apologize. Five minutes later she couldn't remember what the hell he apologized for.
One of the perks of being Dean of Medicine was having a small private bathroom in her office. It was the size of a telephone booth, but she wasn't the type to demand a whirlpool bath made from Italian marble. Her little bathroom was a blessing on days when she was chained to her desk, filling out reams of paperwork. And on days when she wanted her privacy. This was between her and House. The rest of the hospital could live without knowing.
She carefully read the directions, carefully read the directions again so she wouldn't screw it up, used the test and got the results.
House wasn't in his office. She had him paged.
He was in her office in less than five minutes. That was record time for him. He knew why he was there. There was no need to waste the effort and ask.
She showed him the test results.
He glanced from the results to Cuddy to the results again. His expression remained like an Easter Island statue. "How accurate are these things?" he asked, his voice soft and calm.
"Ninety-nine percent," Cuddy answered.
"You trust the results?"
"Yes."
"All right." His tone of voice gave away nothing of how he really felt. "We'll talk about this later." He turned and left as quickly as he had arrived.
She was curled up on the couch, hugging her knees and watching the late afternoon fade into evening. Shadows gradually took over her living room but she left the lights off until the motorcycle roared up her driveway.
A familiar knock. "The door's open," Cuddy called.
House stepped in, closed the door and locked it. He limped to the couch. Cuddy was sitting in his spot; he sat on the other side without any snarky comments about her taking up his space.
"You were disappointed with the results, weren't you?" he finally said, looking at the floor.
"A little," she lied.
"You weren't a little disappointed, Lisa."
"Do you have any idea how I felt?"
"I know exactly how you felt. When that negative sign came up you were crushed."
Her eyes welled up before he was finished speaking. "And what about you, Greg?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"Are you happy now?" She choked out before the sobs swallowed her words.
House waited until she managed to reign in the crying a little before he answered. "Am I disappointed with the results? No, I'm not. I'd be lying if I said otherwise and you know it. But don't you think for one minute that I'm not affected by this. Don't think for a second it's easy for me to just sit here and see how devastated you are." His voice got louder, he couldn't help it. "Don't you think for one second that whether you're having my baby or not means nothing to me!"
Evening faded into night. Cuddy quietly shed her tears on one side of the couch while House sat quietly on the other side and stared through the walls. "I'm not disappointed," House spoke up when her crying got to be too much for him to bear. "But how could you even think I would be happy about it?" He got up and pulled his keys from his jacket pocket.
"Don't leave," Cuddy said, her voice one notch below pleading. She eyed the keys.
"Goodnight, Lisa." He started towards the door.
"Please don't leave."
He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Why should I stay?" he asked without turning around.
"Because I want you to."
"That's not good enough. Not tonight."
"You want to stay, Greg."
"No. I want to go home."
"Okay, Greg, how about this..." Before House knew what was happening Cuddy had run over to the door and kicked the cane out from under his hand. It skittered across the floor, coming to a rest under the table. "I'm not letting you leave."
"Get out of my way, Lisa."
"No."
"I'm leaving."
"No, you're not."
"Move, Lisa."
"No!"
In a flash the keys were yanked out of his hand and thrown behind the couch. "Goddammit, Lisa, what do you think you're–"
"What now, Greg? What now? Are you going to cut me down to size with that barbed tongue of yours?" She began pushing and slapping at him in blind anger, screaming at him. "What can you say that could possibly make me feel any worse? What are you going to say now? What is it? What?"
Another hard slap nearly knocked him over. He regained his balance, just barely. She moved to hit him again. He caught her wrist and pinned her to the door. She dissolved into another wave of sobs. For a few seconds he was the only thing holding her up. He couldn't hold her anymore and they collapsed into a heap in front of the door. Cuddy continued to cry and House shed a few tears with her.
