Hang(over) II

By Jules

(3/5)

A/N: Sequel to Hangover, aftermath of 5.23. I pretty much went the opposite way of the show, mainly because I honestly didn't believe it would be an hallucination. Alas….

House stood in her bedroom door, watching her get dressed unapologetically on a chilly Monday November morning. The first time he had caught her getting dressed had been an accident, now it had become one of their "things."

Every morning after her shower, he would stop outside her door. Each day, the door would be opened a little wider. She would fain indignation for a second then proceeds to get dressed.

It used to take her two minutes to get ready for work.

Now, she took a solid fifteen minutes to don all of her clothing.

House pouted, "I want to go back to work too."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. He had used the same line for the past five days. "You haven't even been home a full week."

"You don't trust me yet." He watched her slip her skirt over her legs and hike it up with a swish of her hips.

"When have I ever trusted you?" Her side zipper rattled as she caught his eyes through her dresser mirror.

"You could sit in on my differentials. Monitor my every move." Her fingers glided down the buttons of her shirt.

"Oh my God. You've actually managed to get sick of General Hospital."

"Never. I just need…" His thought process screeched to a halt when she sat on her bed and began to rub lotion on her legs. This had become his absolute favorite part of her morning process. "...outer stimulation."

"Black heels by the door." She caught them one at a time as he tossed them her way. "I don't think it's a good idea."

He studied her. She was focusing on becoming 3 inches taller instead of him. "No….That's not it. You're not telling me something."

Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked closer to him, snapping a gold stud in her right earlobe. "I just don't want you to have any setbacks. That's all."

He narrowed his eyes at her, watching more gold glitter on her wrist and neck. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to teach the wee bambino how to drive the motorcycle while mommy's at work."

"Don't you dare take Rachel on that death mobile!" Her necklace fell down the front of her blouse before she could hook it.

House leaned forward, catching a glimmer of gold nestled at her waistline. He lifted the tail of her shirt and pulled it free. Gingerly, he turned her around, lifted her hair, and fastened her necklace back in place. "Let me come back to work," he whispered.

Cuddy's brow furrowed. "No."

"Anna!" House bellowed down the hall. "You can take the day off! Cuddy's letting me babysit today!"

"Anna! Who pays you?" Cuddy countered smoothly.

"I'm not going anywhere, Dr. Cuddy," Anna replied, not missing a beat.

Cuddy picked up her briefcase and pushed him out of her bedroom. "Back on my couch, Mister."

House scoffed but moved anyway. "This isn't forever, you know."

"Dr. Cuddy. We've been waiting," stated Dr. Culver, president of the board.

Cuddy didn't waist anytime. "I want to talk about reinstating Dr. House as the Head of Diagnostics."

"I see. You know our position. I'm not sure I see the point in bringing this up again. The vote was unanimous, including you, if I recall correctly."

"I think it's imperative we revisit this. He's made vast improvements over the past few months. I can say with total confidence that he will be able to return and perform his duties in a healthy physical and mental state."

"Cuddy, you know very well there are no guarantees when it comes to him," Wilson said quietly.

"You have my guarantee."

Eyes played around the room, skeptical, some even darkly gleeful. Cuddy was always going out on a limb for House but never quite like this. The results could be disastrous, especially for the Dean.

"Very well. As Dean of Medicine, you and you alone are solely responsible for him. Any deviant behavior or sign of mental instability, you will be held accountable for his actions. All in favor…."

Cuddy wasn't sure what she had gotten herself into, however, when she opened her front door that evening, she found a surprising site she wasn't really sure how to take. "What are you doing?"

House grinned and Rachel giggled at the site of her mother. "Early education. Besides, she likes the pictures."

House had commandeered Rachel's never used easel, making it his new white board.

Symptoms streamed down the pastel paper:

Hallucinations

Trauma to the frontal lobe

Heart attack

Coma

Head aches

Insomnia

Vicodin

Memory Loss

CUDDY

The room was scatted with books from Cuddy's library. Cuddy dropped her briefcase and picked up Rachel, who was sitting on page 158 of a very large textbook. House frowned, "Hey! She was holding my place!"

He snatched the baby back and gave her a magic marker.

"My daughter isn't a bookmark, House." She kicked the book, slamming it shut. The title flashed boldly across the cover, freezing her.

"Neurobehavioral Impairment and Maladaption, 2nd Edition," she read and then looked at him sympathetically, her irritation evaporating. "House…."

House rolled his eyes at her sappy expression. "Oh, please. Like you want to watch Barney and Friends one more day than you have to. I'm helping you."

Cuddy put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "If you want to talk—"

House glanced at her hand, and then down at his magic marker. "I don't."

Cuddy sighed, letting it go. She knew she couldn't make him do anything. He was the equivalent to a human rock.

"You eaten yet?" She called from the kitchen.

"Waiting on you. Ray Charles ate about an hour ago with Anna."

Cuddy peaked inside the living room, eyeing the odd couple. Something inside of her swelled, feeling greedy at the picture they made just for her, as House scribbled down more clues and Rachel chewed on the end of the green marker.

She leaned against the doorframe. "House, I spoke to the board today about reinstating you."

"And?" House looked up from his puzzle.

"They agreed."

House smirked. "Sometimes I think you can walk on water, Boss."

Cuddy took a deep breath. What she agreed to was convoluted and ridiculous. But she was in, and there was no way to do this but full capacity. "I have some conditions."

House raised his eyebrows. "Sounds dirty and horribly le-gal."

"You can think of it as voluntary prison if you like."

"Huh?'

"You have to live here with me indefinitely."