iii.
"Dr. Cuddy!" House proclaimed, bursting into her office unannounced with an assiduous Thirteen nipping at his heels.
"Ouch!" Cuddy cried having banged her head up against the center drawer of her desk as a result of being figuratively pounced by House first thing in the morning.
Thinking she was doing Cuddy a favor, Thirteen flipped on the overhead lights.
"If I'd wanted the lights on, I would have turned them on myself," she barked, squinting. Sitting up in her chair and gingerly rubbing the back of her head, Cuddy felt a distinctive wave of nausea come over her as a splitting headache slowly developed at the source from where she'd bumped her head. There was no escaping it: today was going to be a bad day.
"I'm…sorry?" Thirteen replied somewhat defensively while retreating backwards to turn the lights back off; the only light remaining being that of the sun seeping through her blinds as well as the dim glow from Cuddy's desk lamp.
Taking a seat in a chair opposite her desk, "You're late this morning," House observed, though his tone was more accusatory in nature.
"Since when did you become my boss?" Cuddy asked, pushing her desk drawer closed.
"You're never late," he interrupted, propping his arms on the hook of his cane between his legs.
"Traffic happens, even to the best of us," she said, continuing her search for painkillers in another desk drawer. Anything to distract her from the diabolical mistake she'd allowed to happen the previous night – and again this morning – with Cameron.
"That was Cameron's excuse too," he pondered. "Interesting..."
"It's not interesting, it's a natural phenomena called rush hour traffic," she said, rolling her eyes at him. Ultimately, she knew that House didn't actually know anything and that he was only digging at her this morning because she'd managed to put the breaks on his unapproved surgery between sultry sessions with Cameron last night. However, the longer House stayed in her office, the more questions he was going to ask and the more her paranoia was going to shift into overdrive. Especially with that curious smirk Thirteen just shot at her. "Why were you looking for Cameron anyway? In case you hadn't noticed, you have a new team working for you now," she said offering an open palm to Thirteen and exploiting the fact that she was standing there useless.
"I wasn't looking for Cameron. I was looking for her devoted sex toy," he explained.
"Excuse me?" Cuddy shot back, answering a little too quickly and a little bit too offended by the remark. Surely he meant Chase and not her. Oh God, what was she thinking getting involved with her!
"Oh, sorry, you might know him better as Dr. Robert Chase. You know, that spineless surgeon with big puppy dog eyes and a stupid accent. So…any sightings today?" He asked again.
"No, but I would assume that he's in the OR or something," she said, annoyed, but thrilled to death that she'd found some Tylenol in her bottom drawer, buried under piles of paper, pens, paper clips, and stray staples. Cracking open another bottle of water, Cuddy took three of the white oblong pills with a swig of water. "Why? Chase is already aware that I've shot down your surgery request."
House laughed, mockingly. "Yeah, thanks buzzkill, but no. No," he said, his voice stretching as he did before clasping his hands behind his head and making himself comfortable. "I'm a lot more interested to know what he thinks about you having dinner with Cameron last night," he said, playfully raising his brows to Thirteen a few times as if they were in on some kind of secret together, but the look on her face indicated she was not at all interested in getting involved. "Seems like he would object to his cougar boss sharing a private dinner with his fiancée last night, don't you think?" He asked, directing his attention back to Cuddy and surveying her every move.
"I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to say to that," Cuddy replied flatly. "I have dinner with colleagues all the time, but perhaps you'd like a copy of my calendar so you can investigate this further?" She offered with enough sarcasm that it would take a hazmat crew to properly excavate it from her office.
"No need. I'm only interested in the dinners where you've shared a decadent meal by candlelight in the privacy of your "colleagues'" home. Like, for instance, with Dr. Cameron," he pressed, cocking his head to the side and smiling in that condemning manner that he had perfected over the years.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, House, but it was just dinner," she said, ignoring his assumptions and opening her calendar to begin prioritizing her day, which now included strangling one Dr. Cameron with her stethoscope the second she saw her. "And it was not by candlelight," she corrected, glancing up at Thirteen and immediately seeing that the young fellow was no longer indifferent to this subject. She, in fact, appeared to be very interested now. Shooting a nasty glare at her, Thirteen lowered her sparkling green eyes and tried to hide her self righteous smile as best she could.
"Uh huh," he pondered. "Quick, Thirteen!" House bellowed, turning his attention and cane in her direction and nearly slicing her off at the knees with it. "Differential diagnosis for irritability, headache, sensitivity to light, and – judging by the two empty water bottles in Cuddy's trash – dehydration."
"Sounds like a hangover," Thirteen replied simply, keeping her eyes down on the file in her hands, not wanting to play or interfere with this game as Cuddy had already yelled at her once, but also figuring it was easier to just appease House and move on to why they were really bothering Dr. Cuddy this morning.
"Sounds like someone's skating on thin ice," Cuddy countered, knitting her brows at Thirteen as a third and final warning.
"Ooo," House cooed, antagonizing Cuddy's mood. "I'm onto you," he said touching his index finger to his nose and then pointing at her as he stood up, wobbling a bit before his cane rebalanced him.
"I don't have all day for this. What do you want?" Cuddy asked, getting increasingly agitated.
"I keep telling you, it's not about what I want," he said in a familiar, ridiculing tone, "it's about what the patient needs and he needs surgery!"
Cuddy let out an exasperated sigh. "I thought we already covered this. The answer is still no, House, and if the next words out of your mouth aren't directly related to an alternative treatment for this unknown condition that's killing your patient, I suggest you return to the white board in your office with your devoted new fellows and come up with something else before he dies."
"We already have," Thirteen interrupted.
"Excuse me?" Cuddy asked, befuddled with Thirteen's complacent behavior today.
"We've been here all night and have already tested him for everything else," she explained, stepping forward and handing Cuddy the file to look at again. "There is no alternative, given the parameters we already know about. We all agree that this surgery, while invasive at best, is the safest and best course of action for this particular case."
Harshly scrutinizing Thirteen but opening her mind to the possibility that her argument was somehow valid, Cuddy reviewed the file for what seemed like the hundredth time. She flipped through a few of the pages and saw that Thirteen's analysis of the case was probably accurate. She was still uncomfortable with giving House the go ahead, but it did appear that all other avenues had been examined quite thoroughly before coming to her with this again this morning. "Fine," she said reluctantly slapping the file closed and shoving it forward for Thirteen to take back.
"I knew it was a good idea to bring you with me," House said applauding Thirteen. "It's the eyes. They must remind her of some other idiot doctor she's been spending too much time with lately," he said turning around to hobble out of Cuddy's office. Mission Accomplished.
Knowing that deer in headlights look followed by the flustered glow that came to Cuddy's cheeks at the mere mentioning of Cameron again, Thirteen gave Cuddy a rather shameless once over and then smiled at her when the woman's mouth dropped in shock and unrestricted anger. Taking the hint, Thirteen turned to follow House.
"Dr. Hadley," Cuddy called out, asking her to stay behind as House left to go bother Wilson about her supposed relations with Cameron, no doubt. Never mind that a patient he was responsible for was dying on a hospital bed this morning and major preparations were needed before his surgery was scheduled. Death happened everyday in a hospital, but Cuddy suffering from a hangover after a private dinner with Cameron? Now that was information worthy of a full-scale investigation in House's world of warped priorities.
"Yes?" Thirteen asked smugly as she stepped back up to Cuddy's desk.
"You do realize that I don't actually have to have a reason to fire you, right?" Cuddy threatened in the most non-threatening tone while propping her elbows up onto her desk and leaning her chin onto her clasped hands and smiling at her sweetly.
"Yes, but I'm not –" Thirteen stumbled, shifting her weight uncomfortably under Cuddy's all too friendly stare. "I was out of line, I'm sor–"
"Keep your diagnoses to yourself," Cuddy interrupted. "Understand?" She asked before picking up her pen, returning her focus back to her work, and dismissing Thirteen.
Smiling and letting out a quiet chuckle, Thirteen looked down and bit her lip while shaking her head. She could not believe what she was (not) hearing. "Got it," she said when Cuddy looked back up at her to be sure that Thirteen understood everything that was at stake.
Silently, Thirteen pantomimed her mouth being zipped closed before turning on her heels to leave Cuddy's office now that she had her blessing. Once she reached the door, however, she turned around one more time and smirked at the Dean of Medicine in acknowledgement of the delicious tryst that she'd obviously shared with Dr. Cameron the previous evening.