~ Chapter Five ~
Rough Landing
Cuddy arrived at Heathrow airport twenty-four hours later than she had originally planned. She was exhausted, disheveled, and a little cranky. She didn't sleep well on flights, anyway.
Not that she could sleep traveling alone with Rachel..
And now, she was facing the Customs agent from hell.
"Passport please," the severe looking woman's harsh, clipped tone rang in her ears.
Cuddy dug through her bag, shifting Rachel on her hip. Her passport had fallen to the bottom, and it had become wrinkled under the pressure of the contents of the bag. Cringing inwardly, she handed the hawkish looking woman all of the appropriate documents. "Here you go," she said, wearily.
"Madam, you do realize that your passport is your only document of value and identification in this country," the woman informed her, wrinkling her nose disdainfully at the condition of the document. "You would do well to take better care of it," she lectured.
Cuddy bit back a biting response, glad House wasn't around to make her feel worse about the situation, or to step in, and make the situation worse.
"What is your purpose here?" the woman continued, peering more critically over her dark rimmed glasses, her gaze piercing Cuddy.
"Medical Conference. I'm a Dean of Med..."
"Yes. Nice. Very well." The woman briskly stamped her passport after peering at the printed e-mails that verified Cuddy's reasons. "How long will you be here?"
"'Til next Saturday."
"Very good."
Cuddy zoned out through the rest of the spiel, feeling a little bad for it, but she was tired and hungry. Feeling stiff and weary, she picked up her bag from luggage claim, and she made her way through the busy terminal.
Managing a child and her luggage through the airport by herself wasn't an easy feat, but she managed. She had planned traveling with her nanny, but, due to a family emergency, that hadn't gone to plan, and the nanny would be arriving Monday afternoon.
Cuddy hoped she had better luck than herself. So far, this really had been the trip from hell.
She muscled through the airport, and she finally was able to get to the exit, where the Black Cabs were lined up. She hailed one, and the driver, a gentleman in his early fifties, got out and began to load her luggage.
She settle into the back of the cab. "Where to, miss," he asked, getting in the driver's seat.
She gave him directions to the hotel, and she settled back in the seat. Rachel cooed next to her, her wide brown eyes taking in everything. As they drove through London, Cuddy pointed out the landmarks: Tower Bridge, The Tower of London, Big Ben and the House's of Parliament. She realized that Rachel was far too young to remember anything from this trip, and she made a mental note to buy a disposable camera or two to document their week there.
She also startled herself by planning on spending time with Rachel and taking the time to take in the sights with her. A year ago, she would have never taken the time to enjoy a city on a trip like this. She would have been so focused on her job she wouldn't have enjoyed herself.
Her priorities had changed so much in such a short span of time.
Her smile faltered a bit as her thoughts were invaded by an image of a tall, rugged man with a cane and a bitterly wicked sense of humor.
And a thick sensation of guilt filled her stomach.
If she hadn't been so preoccupied with her new life and child, maybe she would have seen his breakdown coming.
She shook her head. No, she wouldn't go there. It wasn't fair to neither her nor Rachel.
She wasn't his personal babysitter. She couldn't always save him.
They pulled in front of her hotel, and the cab driver pulled her bags from the cab. She paid him, and she gave him a tip for all his help. "Thank-you, miss." He tipped his hat, and he drove off.
She walked up to the check-in desk, and she pulled the printout her reservations from her bag. She paid for the room, and the clerk signaled a bell hop to take her luggage up to her room. "Fourth floor, madam. Room 402.
Cuddy thanked the clerk, and then she followed the bell hop to the elevator. Rachel became fussy, after being relatively calm for most of the trip. She tried to sooth the little girl while apologizing to the bell hop, who endured it with stoic professionalism.
When the elevator doors opened, she looked up, and she was faced with the moment she had been dreading.
Greg House was standing right in front of her.
And he didn't look happy to see her.
** ** **
At the sound of his alarm, Chase cracked open an eye, only to find a pair of rich, gold eyes staring at him. He groaned, and he was tempted to push the huge, orange cat off the bed, but then, he realized that the damn cat was a part of his life, whether he had wanted it or not.
He sat up, ad with one hand, he turned off the alarm. He scratched Cheddar behind the ears with the other one, eliciting a low purr from the giant cat's throat.
He hadn't wanted a cat, but he'd given into Cameron's demands for one, but he had refused to pay for an expensive, over-bred pampered feline. So they'd rescued Cheddar from an animal shelter. And, like Chase, when Cheddar was content and happy and he had been saved, Cameron had abandoned them.
He came to the conclusion that he had spent way too much time dwelling on the misfortunes of his recent past, but everywhere he looked, he had been reminded of it.
At least work had been going well. His first case as boss seemed like it was going to be a success.
It was a much needed ego boost.
As he was driving to work, his thoughts were brought back to the ease of his first case, and a sickening thought occurred to him.
The case had been easy. Too easy. And the other fellows had been eager to work for him. Including Taub and Foreman. They'd barely fought with him at all.
Something was up, and he had the sickening feeling that he was being played. By his co-workers.
He sighed, and he gripped the steering wheel tightly. It was only going to get worse from there.
He couldn't wait for House to get back.
