Chapter the Second
Rated PG-13
I don't get any money for the weirdness.
Getting Bridget pregnant was like that George Harrison song from the Eighties.
It took time, lots of precious time. It took patience and time. And lots of money, but Cuddy'd already paid that, to do it right. Or, at least, that was the song that ran through Bridget's head every time she went to the fertility clinic for the inseminations. It was invariably at some ungodly time in the morning and Cuddy would drive her there and then to work.
A morning person she was not.
Then, she'd lay on the couch in House's office, legs in the air, waiting for the miracle of life. When the team asked, after the first time, Bridget told them it was a yoga move for her back and to stay out of her business. She started doing it every morning to throw them off the scent. The weren't aware of the circumstances, but they weren't dimwits.
They went through it several times. Wake up too early in the morning, get into the car with a terribly expectant Cuddy, be inseminated, lay on the couch and wait. Then the dreaded pregnancy test.
Cuddy waited in her office every time Bridget took one. She'd sit behind her desk and stare blankly at the computer screen until her phone rang. So far, four times and counting, it had been negative.
But she held on to hope every time.
"So much for super sperm," Bridget said, laying on the couch and pulling her legs up.
"That actually helping you?" House asked, popping a Vicodin.
"I don't know, it's kind of fun. And Foreman seems to like the view."
"Of course he does, black guys love white girls. Especially the blond ones with blue eyes. You're like a black guy magnet," House said sarcastically.
"I do have a lot of junk in the trunk," she said sweetly, "And isn't it more fun to talk the smack when Foreman is actually in the room?"
"I'll use it the next time I catch him checking you out," he said. "So, wear something trampy tomorrow."
"Greg House, you say the sweetest things."
"When are you going to take the test?" House asked, trying to sound casual. Doing a pretty good job at it.
"You don't care," Bridget said, moving into a sitting position.
"No, I just like the idea that Cuddy wants my swimmers so badly."
"Gi-normous… ego… taking… all… the.. air," she gasped and then laughed.
"Don't you have a stick to pee on?"
Bridget pulled a face and got up to leave.
Bridget couldn't decide where to go first. It had been three minutes after her pregnancy test and she actually had good news. She decided to go to Cuddy, as she was the payee. She could tell House in some embarrassing and private way later.
Cuddy fought the urge to jump up and yell. Bridget gave her points for that.
"I thought… It doesn't matter. It's happened. Now, you have to-"
Bridget looked up from the couch and cut in.
"Are you going to adjust my schedule and/or try to force me onto some maternity diet? Because the answer is no."
Cuddy joined her, calming a little.
"That sentence started wrong."
"Okay," Bridget said uncertainly. "Then what is it?"
"I was going to suggest, maybe kind of demand, you come stay with me while you're pregnant."
Bridget smirked.
"Is that all? Live rent free for nine months and probably be waited on hand and foot for the last part? It sounds terrible."
"I wanted you to say yes, but then I thought about your privacy and your social life…"
"What kind of social life would I have if I'm all preggers? And unless you're going to demand 24/7 time with my reproductive system, I think we can handle the privacy part. And, I'll buy groceries. I can keep us fed."
"I guess the kind of man that would be attracted to a pregnant woman might not be your type."
Bridget took Cuddy's hand.
"Lisa, he would be exactly my type," she said, then laughed. She thought for a second. "Do you know how I can get House's Ipod without him knowing?"
House was settling in for his post lunch zone out. There was no case, Bridget was excessively capable of getting all the paperwork squared away and the fellows were away on clinic duty.
House smirked.
They'd been so irritated when they found out House was exempt from clinic duty. The current theory was that he, House, was servicing Cuddy. Which wasn't too far off the mark.
He stuck his ear buds in and pressed the random button on the mp3 player. Then, disgusted, he yanked them out of his ears and looked down atit player with disgust. All his play lists had been erased and replaced with Paul Anka's 'Having My Baby' and B Rock and the Biz's 'Just My Baby Daddy'.
Bridget would pay…
"You know, House frowns on it when you look at me like that," Bridget said as Foreman sat down at the table in the Diagnostics Lounge. "Says it's clichéd for the black guyto like the white chick with a big butt. Well, I said the big butt part, but the rest was all House."
Foreman smiled grimly.
"I'm not-" he started. "Okay, I have been checking you out. But, I've kept it to myself. Wouldn't be a good idea."
'You have no idea,' Bridget thought.
"Why?" she said anyway, just to see what his reasoning was. "Is it because I'm just a nurse and you're a cool neurologist?"
"We work together," he said simply.
"Doesn't seem to stop Cameron and Chase from going at it whenever possible."
"I'm not like that," Foreman replied.
"Have you dated a nurse?" she asked, knowing the answer. She'd heard the gossip on the Diagnostics team and Dr. Wilson the minute the nursing staff knew she was working for House.
He looked uncomfortable.
"Yes."
"Just 'yes'?" she prodded. "Did she break up with you or did it just get weird?"
"Why are you so interested?" he asked.
"I'm nosy," she replied, smiling.
"We just stopped seeing each other. Any more questions?"
"Not right now."
Foreman shook his head.
"If we didn't work in the same department would you ask me out?" she asked off-handedly.
"I thought you were done with the questions?"
"I lied…"
"It's hard enough to deal with House-"
Bridget looked affronted.
"Are you comparing me to House?"
Foreman came up short, then decided to brazen it out.
"Yeah, a little."
Bridget sat and thought a minute.
"You still didn't answer the question," she said.
Just then Cameron and Chase walked in, looking far too pleased with themselves. Which meant they had an interesting case or they'd just made out in a supply closet.
When they sat at the table with out talking, Bridget took it to mean the second.
"Jeez, you two, get a freaking room," she said, getting up and heading out.
House cornered Bridget outside the ladies room not far from his office.
"Thanks for replacing my music with the single suckiest tune known to man and some inane rap song," he said, standing directly in front of the door as she attempted to leave.
"I'm pretty sure that honor goes to 'Thong Song', but I won't argue the point.
She pushed by him and started down the hall.
"So," he said, catching up to her, "you're fully inGreginated."
"Did you seriously just say that?" she said, smiling.
"Pregnant just doesn't seem strong enough when talking about my potential offspring," he replied.
"Cuddy's offspring. You are simply the male progenitor. Deal with that. Plus," she said, opening the door to Diagnostics. "Cameron and Chase are still doing it in the building."
She sat back down at the table, smirking evilly.
Foreman chuckled under his breath and Cameron looked outraged, but said nothing. Chase didn't appear to give a shit.
"You two are like horny teenagers," House said, grabbing a coffee cup and filling it. "I'd turn the hose on you if I could catch you. No I wouldn't, I'd tape it and send it to everyone you've ever met."
Cameron sputtered.
"Oh, Cameron," Bridget said, "It's so sweet. Young love." She sighed dramatically.
"We did not-"
"Never mind that," House cut in. "We have a case."
Cameron seethed and glared at Bridget. The other woman just smiled, flipped her the bird while House's back was turned and mouthed the words 'Bring it'.
Foreman caught the exchange and tried not to laugh out loud. Cameron was so transparent at times, well all the time, really.
Bridget didn't know why she liked baiting the other woman so much. It might have had something to do with her shagging Chase and still continuing to lust and pine after House. Bridget wasn't particularly fond of Chase, but she hated it when women did that. It gave guys complexes and turned them into assholes for the next woman.
House just took up the dry erase marker as if that little drama hadn't played out behind his back and started listing symptoms.
Foreman caught up with Bridget just as she was unlocking her car door.
"You still want an answer to that question?" he asked, leaning against the back door of the car.
Bridget opened her door and looked at him. Ideally, she would have said yes, she was pretty sure what he was about to say. But she was in a difficult situation.
"On second thought, I'm going to agree with you. It would be awkward since we're working together."
Foreman smiled.
"I was going to say I only date black women anyway," he said, and then walked away to his car.
She laughed to herself and got into her car. Then she got right back out and followed him, knocking on his window.
"That's kind of racist, you know," she said, catching him before he put the car in gear.
He grinned.
"It's not racial, it's cultural," he said, putting his car in park.
"No, no, totally racist," she replied.
"You want to talk about this somewhere warmer?" he asked.
"I'll follow you," she said, thinking at the same time, 'Stupid, stupid, stupid.'
Bridget moved into Cuddy's guest room. It was damn near a full suite, with a full bathroom, large closet and a small sitting area.
"Being Dean of Medicine is good," she said to herself as she made her bed.
There was a knock on the door.
"Bridget? You ready for dinner?"
Bridge opened the door.
"You want Indian or American fare?"
Cuddy shrugged.
"I'm easy," she said as they walked down the hall.
"Don't say that in front of House," Bridget said snickering.
Cuddy settled on a stool at the marble island in the kitchen.
"I feel bad doing nothing while you cook," she said.
"You're only letting me live here and making my life as cushy as possible," Bridget said, "You're a lazy bum."
Cuddy smiled.
"What do you have planned for House?" she asked, getting up to get the table set.
"Why?" Bridge asked slyly.
"He's been giving you some serious shit since the positive pregnancy test-"
"Can you just say, 'Since you found out you were pregnant'?"
"It's still early…"
"Lisa," Bridget said, walking across the kitchen, "You need to unclench. I was so healthy during my first pregnancy that other pregnant women were irritated with me. No morning sickness, swelling anything, high blood pressure, blood glucose issues. So, please, relax." She put a hand on Cuddy's arm.
"If House saw us now, he'd make a dirty comment about some girl on girl action," she said, trying to lighten the mood.
Cuddy forced a laugh.
"You're not my type. Not enough stubble," she said looking into Bridget's eyes.
"I knew it!" Bridge said triumphantly. "I mean, why else would you want his genes? He's awful."
"He's a brilliant doctor," Cuddy replied, "Insightful-"
"A jackass with no filter between his brain and his mouth. He dishes out the bullshit left and right, but have you ever known him to take it?"
"He can be… assertive-"
Bridget blew out her breath and went back to the stove, adding meat and vegetables to a casserole dish.
"He's a steam roller. He runs right over anyone he thinks is wrong and/or in his way. And by the way, how you're defending him… You need to keep you're guard up at work or he'll pin you like a butterfly in a collection."
"I just get tired of playing it so close to the vest all the time," Cuddy said. "If I shouldn't have said anything to you-"
"You can say whatever you want to me, without worrying about House."
Bridget looked around suspiciously.
"Unless you think he's got the place wired."
Cuddy laughed.
"He probably fantasizes about us pillow fighting in our naugties."
"Or practicing French kissing," Bridget laughed.
"Lord knows I could use it," Cuddy said.
"Anyone sitting with you?" Foreman asked as Bridget sat, alone, in the commissary eating lunch.
"Unless the invisible man is stalking me… no. Have a seat," she said, gesturing to a chair.
Foreman put his tray down and pulled a chair closer to her.
"I thought we could continue our conversation. The one we started in the parking lot, then carried on to the café."
"What else is there to say?" Bridget said in between bites. "You flirt with me then you back off, I do the same."
"I know my reasons. It's yours that arefuzzy," he replied.
"It's that doctor-nurse relationship thing. Never works out."
Foreman shook his head.
"You are deflecting."
"I thought I was eating my chicken salad," she said casually.
"You're doing both."
He paused.
"I thought we worked this out at the café. I admitted to being an ass to needle you about the white women remark, and that was supposed to open the floor for negotiation."
"You're negotiating for a date, Foreman? Sounds kind of desperate…"
"This is not desperation, it's intrigue. You parry and then retreat. It's… interesting."
"You find me fascinating?"
Foreman looked at her expectantly.
"You don't feel similarly?"
"Again, I will state, we work together. If you dip your wick in company ink-"
He shook his head.
"That is a ridiculous and out-dated saying. There's no ink well and I don't think I want anything I do referred to as 'dipping my wick'."
"Funny," she said.
"Not as funny as House," Foreman said, then took a bite of his salad.
She choked a bit on the chicken.
"Huh?"
"You spend a lot of time with him…"
"I'm his keeper. Cuddy basically hired me to follow up after him and pick up the droppings. And that's why I get the big bucks," she said, smiling.
"You have fun with him," he said.
"He's like sparring with a top level fencer after years of being poked at with butter knives."
"And where am I on that scale?" Foreman asked.
"Level 3 or 4; pretty high."
"I'll just take the compliment and let anything else in my head go."
"You should," Bridget said.
"I'm curious about where Chase and Cameron fall…"
"I'm not saying anything further. That's called evidence and I avoid it."
"You do seem… closed… at times."
"I like to keep my personal life personal. That's all."
"I'm not an open book myself. But I am interested in getting to know you better… Without prying."
Bridget smiled.
'It's complicated,' she thought.
"In a platonic way?" she asked.
"Does that rule out any future chance of a romantic date?"
"Not forever, but for the foreseeable future."
Foreman sighed dramatically.
"That's better than a no."