A/N-Thanks all for following, favoriting and reading a new fic. Thanks so very much to all of you who left me your thoughts: IHeartHouseCuddy, dragonball256, linda12344, jkarr, mstimekeeper, ikissedtheLaurie, lenasti16, Nama, BabalooBlue, JM, JLCH, KiwiClare, freeasabird14, Guest, LapizSilkwood, jaybe61, Tori, dmarchl21, ammeboss, Suzieqlondon, MrsBock, Boo's House, Victoria, LittleGreg, CaptainK8, Abby, grouchysnarky, HuddyGirl, Alex, LoveMyHouse , THE Nick' Amaral and Jane Q. Doe.
I'll try to update by early next week (I'm trying to post two updates a week on this one, but I can't make any promises). Happy weekend!
-Nostalgia-
That evening, House, Cuddy and Wilson lulled around her living room, discussing anything but the events of the day that left two of them jobless. After a few drinks, House and Wilson did what Cuddy thought was impossible: they managed to make her laugh. It was not intentional, and, truth be told, the ample ingestion of alcohol certainly played a role in her eventual response, but she definitely started to have a good time. House and Wilson simultaneously intoxicated was a very entertaining circumstance. The banter and somewhat fraternal joking was mostly light-hearted until Cuddy mentioned a detail from the story of how House and Wilson met, as told to her by Wilson.
"Woah," House interrupted, looking around like he'd discovered a juicy detail, "how exactly did we meet in Wilson's version of events?"
Cuddy answered immediately, and quite drunkenly, "He bailed you out of jail after you got pissed off at some-"
"That's not what I said, she assumed," Wilson loudly interrupted. "I said only that there was an altercation that caused an unfortunate arrest…and apparently some bonds are forged over bailing a guy out of jail. It's not my fault that she used her judgment and felt it was obvious that you were the one who was likely arrested."
"You intentionally mislead me," Cuddy accused through a giggle. "Wilson, I'm kind of impressed."
"You're impressed?" House scoffed.
"Kind of, yea. Never really thought of Wilson as the bad boy type."
"Wilson's bad like choir boys and two day-old puppies."
"Choir boys can be bad."
"I was arrested twice," House bragged.
Cuddy laughed, "Are you talking about a drunk and disorderly or the protest?"
"House protested something?" Wilson asked. "You have a social conscience?"
"Of course I do," House replied, throwing a Vicodin into his mouth and washing it down with liquor, "if the issue is important enough."
"He protested the new hamburgers they were serving at this twenty-four hour dive," Cuddy answered.
"No, you're wrong," House confirmed. "It was BLTs. They cut the amount of bacon per sandwich in half. So, on behalf of myself, and all of the other people who wanted to eat a decent sandwich, I organized a protest."
"By 'organized', he means he got one of his buddies to stand near him outside of the door."
"Again, you're misinformed," House defended.
"How so? I was a witness."
"You probably still fantasize about it. Anyway, there was a whole group of us."
"I really don't remember a group."
"There were two guys. Unfortunately, one was distracted by the women's volleyball tournament, but he was with us in spirit."
"Well, I'm swooning over your efforts…and the ten minutes you spent with security over the incident must have been a harrowing experience, but I don't think that counts as an arrest."
"But Wilson blowing his top once makes him a bad boy?"
"I'm sure he's done lots of other things. He seems innocent, but under it all…who knows what sort of guy is yearning to break free."
"If gathering canned goods for the needy is suddenly considered badass, then yes, I'm sure you're right."
"Let's leave me out of it." Wilson asked Cuddy, "I want to know what else you know. Any other med school stories?"
"Maybe," Cuddy answered after a second's hesitation.
"I mean…did you actually meet him or you just heard of him and observed his protests at a distance?"
"We met each other, spoke. We had a class together."
"That's remarkably boring," Wilson said, disappointedly.
House piped in loudly, "It was hard for her to get to know me because of the throngs of women that surrounded me at all times, and, of course, I was always busy with my social justice work."
Wilson huffed, "There were that many desperate med students?"
"Hate to disappoint you, Wilson," Cuddy answered, swirling her drink in her glass, "House didn't seem to have trouble meeting women."
"Really? So he really did have the rep he claims to have had?"
"Well…most of his rep was exactly the same as it is now, a condescending jerk who enjoyed humiliating professors and students alike. But, some women apparently like men like that because he was not completely unpopular with the female students."
"Did you know any of the victims personally?" Wilson returned.
"Possibly," Cuddy answered as Wilson's cell phone rang, and he walked unsteadily into the next room to talk.
"Wilson's really wasted," House observed.
"Wilson's not the only one," she replied, poking a nearly empty bottle. After a few seconds of silence, she sat next to him on the sofa, her shoulder almost bumping into his. "You really didn't tell him, did you?"
"Tell him what?"
"You know what."
"Of course I told him. The surgeon who transformed you from a Lyle to a Lisa did an amazing job, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. You should advertise for him, drum up business for the man who-"
"If that story is true, I have a few questions," she returned smugly, her speech slurring ever so slightly. "Just so I have our story straight, did you and I share a night of really amazing sex before or after I became a woman? My timeline is fuzzy and that could add some interesting details to your rep if it happened before the transformation."
House shot a cautionary glare, "You've had way too much to drink. I know how you are, if you tell Wilson about this, you'll regret it, so we should suspend this conversation for a time when you haven't consumed enough liquor to subdue a lumberjack."
She leaned close enough that her shoulder touched his arm, whispering, "I'm not going to tell him, so don't worry."
"Hey, I'm not worried," he replied, pushing a book across her coffee table with his cane.
"You're acting worried. I guess I'm just trying to figure out what this means."
"What what means?" he asked uncomfortably.
"Should I find it sweet that you didn't dish our secret? Or maybe I should be insulted…was it not worth mentioning?"
"I do not want to talk about this right now," he answered, looking toward the doorway to see if Wilson was returning.
"Tomorrow?"
"I was thinking more like never," House said as he squirmed, his eyes still focused on the door, "Right now, we have to focus on getting your job back, so I can have my job back."
"It's strange to me that I spent hours each week trying to get you to work, but now that your job is gone, you want to work so badly."
"Apparently unemployment makes the heart grow fonder. Also I need a paycheck. The paycheck I get from you is the least irritating one I've come across. But if they call me for the Vicodin taster position I applied for, you'll have to find a new diagnostician."
"Was the sex disappointing?"
He turned suddenly, his expression one of disbelief, "You were there. You tell me."
She grinned confidently when she received the confirmation she had expected all along, "Just checking."
Gazing over at her, he could see the hint of playful flirtation in her expression, and he felt a smile threatening to emerge on his own face as well. "Why do I have the feeling that you and I drinking together might be a bad idea?"
"Oh please, we're just talking. You know, you really have changed, House."
"People don't change."
"In some ways, you have." Her tone became more serious and she asked, "I am curious though. You never mentioned it when you guys were out drinking or when he first met me? You never even hinted about it?"
"Sure, but he always thinks I'm lying. Probably because I make it sound like I'm lying. You're seriously upset that I didn't blab to Wilson?"
"No, not upset, I just want to know why. It must be that…you're embarrassed, isn't it? You want to make it clear that you can't stand me. Your reputation would suffer if they thought that maybe-"
"Of course," he almost hissed as he turned toward her, "any guy would be filled with humiliation if he got to have sex with the woman who all the other guys want to have sex with. How embarrassing!"
"OK…"
"I was protecting your privacy. Plus, telling everyone would have been a shitty way to say 'thanks for the sex.'"
She had an unmistakably happy look on her face as she said, "That's…actually sweet. Thank y-"
"You complain about the stuff I do say, but apparently you don't approve of what I don't say either. See, this is why you will probably always be single."
At that moment, the happy expression left her face as she pulled her head back indignantly, "Excuse me?"
He dropped his shoulders a bit in response, "And comments like mine are likely why I'll always be single. It's not an insult, it's just who we are."
"Fuck you."
"I can't trust the two of you to get along for five minutes on your own?" Wilson asked as he returned. "Do you need a referee present at all times?"
"Probably," House and Cuddy said in unison as they turned to Wilson.
"My wife is on her way home, I need to call a taxi. Want to share one?" Wilson asked House.
"Sure. If you're paying," House agreed.
"If I'm paying, how is that sharing?"
"Sharing time, wisdom, the stale air that we'll breathe."
"I'm too drunk to care, so fine. Let's meet tomorrow to figure out what we're going to do. You guys want to have lunch at Sal's at two? That will give me enough time to figure out what in the hell happened in that meeting, and it's far enough away from the hospital that we shouldn't be overheard."
"That's fine," Cuddy replied.
"If you two arrive before I do, just wait in your separate cars. I don't want to walk in on a no-holds-barred food fight."
"Does Sal's have jello?" House asked.
"Not even in your dreams," Cuddy countered.
"I'm hungry for lime…maybe cherry. I don't usually dream about my food though. Wait a minute, you weren't thinking something more-"
"Shut up."
"OK, guys," Wilson intervened, "we had a nice evening, at least while there was adult supervision, let's try to remember that. Tensions are high, but we'll meet up at Sal's at two tomorrow, and we can get this all figured out. Let's just try not to implode."
The next afternoon, armed with a lingering hangover and a few ideas about what was going on at PPTH, Cuddy slipped into the booth at the diner next to House so the three friends could discuss their plans.
"So who was present when they took the vote?" Cuddy asked Wilson as the server filled their drinks.
"I have no idea," Wilson answered, "I wasn't there. They held the meeting when I couldn't attend. My patient, the four year-old with the hepatoblastoma, was in surgery at the time."
"Wait, you were actually in the O.R.?" House asked.
"The mother asked me to be there. Her son knows me and she was worried that-"
"How often do you actually sit in on surgeries for your patients?"
"Look, let it go, my patient needed me…he's four! You can mock me for having a heart later."
"That's not what I mean," House clarified, "what do you think the chances are that you would be in surgery with a patient at the same time that Cuddy and I were out at a meeting?"
"Hell of a coincidence," Cuddy noted.
"It was planned."
"So someone had access to our schedules, and picked a time when we'd all be gone," Wilson stated.
"But how often is Cuddy gone from the hospital at all during the day, much less gone when you are busy too?" House asked.
"What are you getting at?" Cuddy questioned.
"Maybe the lawyers we went to meet work for whoever wanted to get rid of us. They scheduled a meeting with the lawyers during the surgery so they could take a vote without you or Wilson present."
"So someone has to be on the inside," Wilson added, "someone who knew that I'd be in surgery that day and could have the lawyers schedule a meeting with you and Cuddy."
"The lawsuit itself did seem sort of ridiculous," she suggested. "You said it before, a patient who is alive and healthy doesn't really have much of a lawsuit. The fact that a few treatments didn't work was unfortunate, but she signed the necessary waivers and there wasn't any long-term damage or lasting pain."
"Why did they need to get rid of Cuddy? Why not just fire you directly, House?" Wilson wondered.
"With her in charge, it's harder to get rid of me."
"You're assuming their real target was you," Cuddy said, "but maybe I was the real target and you were a bystander. No one really fired you, you quit."
House stated assuredly, looking over at her, "You are really good at pissing people off."
"Vogler was furious with her. He hated both of you by the time he was gone," Wilson added.
House responded, "Vogler's not interested in revenge. He's interested in money. He doesn't stand to profit from this, so he isn't interested."
"House," Cuddy piped up, "Vogler is interested in money, but his desire to get rid of you went far beyond that. He escalated when you humiliated him and when you refused to meet his demands. He wanted you to respect him, even fear him, and you didn't. He's not used to people behaving the way you do. It was personal."
"It just doesn't seem like Vogler's style," House hypothesized. "Why would he hide it? With his team of lawyers, don't you think he would just sue you directly? They should be able to come up with some reason or find a way to get rid of you. I'd think Vogler would want you to know he was coming after you. He could approach board members and offer increased funding or perks…maybe even cushier jobs. He buys his way in, he's a businessman first and foremost."
"So if not Vogler, who?" Wilson wondered.
They ate their food as they talked through the known information. When they finished their meals, Cuddy planned, "So what's our next step?"
"We need to know who was in the meeting," House answered, "which board members were present and voted to get rid of you."
"I'll find that out," Wilson volunteered.
"And then we need to know if the lawyers are associated with anyone who hates Cuddy or me or both of us, someone besides my former patient. Unless someone influenced the O.R. schedule, which isn't impossible but is a bit trickier than scheduling a meeting with a lawyer."
"I can look into that," Cuddy offered. "My brother-in-law is a lawyer, I can see if he knows anything about that firm or their clients."
"OK," House continued, "and this patient, the one who sued me for curing her, we need to figure out who convinced her or her family to sue. She didn't like me, but she was happy to be healthy again. She thanked me before she left. I don't think it was her idea. I'll talk to her."
Cuddy scoffed, "You?"
"Why not?"
"Should someone go with you?" she asked worriedly.
"I can handle this."
"Without making it worse?"
"I gotta get back to work," Wilson said as he stood and placed more than enough money to cover his meal on the table.
"Meet up tomorrow after work? My place," House plotted.
"I'm free until seven," Wilson answered, "Julie and I have a dinner thing in the evening."
"What sort of dinner thing?"
"Dinner at her friends' place. A few couples, want to come?" Wilson offered disingenuously.
"A bunch of couples who are friends with your wife? Sounds horrifically mid-numbing. I'll pass."
"I'm free after four," Cuddy stated.
House turned suspiciously toward her, "What are you doing until four?"
"I have a…call."
"A call?"
"A pre-interview."
"Mercy?" Wilson asked.
"No. Somewhere new."
"I haven't heard about any new hospitals around here," House informed.
"Because…it's in San Diego."
"That's great," Wilson nodded, "but really far. Your whole family is on this side of the country. Are you looking at anything closer?"
"DC. There are a few hospitals locally who may be interested, but no immediate openings."
"You already have an interview?" House asked quietly, his face blank.
"I made a few calls this morning," Cuddy explained while she stood, "I need to make sure I have my contingency plans in order."
"I'll see you guys at House's apartment after work tomorrow, hopefully with a few answers," Wilson said before he left the diner.
"So, tomorrow?" she asked House once Wilson was gone.
"Yea. Tomorrow."
Replying awkwardly before she turned to leave, she said, "OK, see ya then."
House grabbed her wrist long enough to catch her attention, "Fuck the interview. You haven't even given me a chance to get your job back."
"I'm just putting out feelers."
"You owe me."
"I do?"
"The least you can do is stay here so you can employ me."
"I'll write you recommendations, make some calls for you-"
"I don't want your calls or your recommendations. I told you, I want to work for you at Plainsboro. I want to keep my team. I want things to go back to how they were."
"House," she answered gently, "the game has changed."
"Give me a week to show you that I can get your job back. You can't give me one week?"
"You want a week to try to guilt me into-"
"No. I want a week to put everyone back where they belong. Reschedule the interview…and then you can cancel it when it's obvious that you're gonna get your job back."
"Fine," she answered after some thought.
"Good."
"If I get my job back, are you going to cut me some slack? Stop treating me like the enemy?"
"It's doubtful. I need a boss who isn't going to fire me every time I'm an ass. Someone who will tell me no, make me prove my theories or at least force me to decide if my theories are worthy of subterfuge. Someone who knows that sometimes the only good answer is something that's dangerous and insane, but it might work. You can handle it when I'm, you know…being me. And, in the end, you need me to be me…or your diagnostics department isn't even worth having."
"Career codependency?"
"We could call it something prettier, find some fancy, current catch phrase, but codependency fits."
"I'll see you tomorrow when Wilson gets off work."
"Or you can come along to talk to my former patient and find out why she was suing me for making her better."
Cuddy looked around the restaurant while she thought, hesitantly answering, "Yea, OK."
"Then we can stop somewhere and get a drink while you call your brother-in-law."
"It's three-thirty in the afternoon."
"Almost happy hour by the time we're done interviewing my suer."
"True."
"How else will I know for sure that you're not setting up more interviews and making calls about future employment?"
"You could try to take my word for it."
"Hmm…no. No, that's not gonna work for me. I need to be sure. You're sneaky."
"I thought you said that you and I drinking together is a bad idea."
"You remember that conversation?"
"I wasn't that drunk. And I'm still mad about that conversation, in case you were wondering."
"Well, I was right about the drinking."
"If it's a bad idea then why did you invite me to go for a drink?"
"Because I'm OK with bad ideas as long as they're fun bad ideas. Come on, we have interrogating to do."