A/N-Sorry for the delay. One or two chapters left after this one, I still haven't decided yet. Thanks to everyone for their comments: dragonball256, ikissedtheLaurie, freeasabird14, JM, BabalooBlue, the Guest reviewers, KiwiClare, LoveMyHouse, JLCH, jaybe61, lenasti16, IHeartHouseCuddy, byte size, linda12344, Boo's House, Suzieqlondon, CaptainK8, Abby, dmarchl21, HuddyGirl, Alex, grouchysnarky, Mon Fogel, LapizSilkwood, Jane Q. Doe and THE Nick' Amaral.
I'll try to post again later this week.
-Climbing the Ladder-
They continued to research, finding that Malloy actually had worked for Vogler, having lost his job shortly after Cuddy managed her coup. There was plenty of evidence available from a simple online search to link Vogler and Malloy. Wilson was meeting two of the board members after work to get answers, so House and Cuddy decided to go along. As they drove in the car, Cuddy wondered, "Even if Malloy was working for Vogler and they excluded Wilson and I from the vote, they still shouldn't have had enough votes to get rid of me. Most of those people on the board were willing to let Vogler and his money walk away, following my advice. It doesn't make sense."
"So he needed more than money to persuade them," House added, "or…they found a way to discredit you."
"Like what?" Wilson asked.
"He accused me of favoritism, of protecting House. But the board knew House would be staying on when they took the vote to remove Vogler, so nothing changed there. In fact, if anything, I've been harder on House, expected more, was more particular about paperwork than I was before," Cuddy answered.
"You mean you were punishing me for costing you Vogler's money," House stated.
"No. I was trying even harder to hold you to the same standards that I had been trying to hold you to all along."
Wilson mentioned, tentatively, "Maybe he has evidence, pictures. How long has this thing between you been going on?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, her face too calm and controlled.
"Nothing," Wilson retracted swiftly, "I mean this…battle of wills and the…the power struggle. I'll be right back!"
Wilson got out of his car and walked quickly up to his front door. When House peered into the back seat, Cuddy's arms were folded as she looked out the window. "What?" House asked.
"Nothing."
"I didn't tell him."
"Oh, obviously not. His great cover-up completely fooled me."
"I didn't tell him. He guessed. There was lipstick on my collar and some of your hair stuck on my shirt. Given that we barely got out of bed before he showed up, it probably wasn't that hard to figure out."
She turned toward him, searching his face and nodding with a slight smile, "It's not like I want to hide it."
"Once again…you get mad if I don't tell something or mad if I do. If I didn't tell him, it means I'm embarrassed, and if I did, I'm an asshole."
"I don't mind him knowing, everything just happened so suddenly, and I wasn't sure if...you know."
"Sure if…"
"With everything going on, it's not the best time to kick up rumors about something going on between us. If you want both of us to get our jobs back, talk like that would complicate things."
"Probably."
She didn't speak for several long, silent seconds, until she abruptly added, "And I am on the pill."
House paused momentarily at the sharp shift in topic, "Well, yea."
"So what, you just assumed that I was? Risky assumption."
"It's not really an assumption. It's a solid conclusion, arrived at based on every single thing I've observed about your behavior since I met you. You have personally chosen every single piece of artwork at the hospital. You, yourself, assign parking spaces, and you still personally sign for vacation for department heads and charge nurses. You'd control the tides if you could. You honestly think that I think you'd leave something like procreation to chance?"
Biting the inside of her lip, Cuddy considered some sort of counterargument but found none. "It was impulsive…and unexpected."
"The fact that you think you can anticipate your randoms is a pretty good illustration of my point that you want to control everything."
"You weren't exactly a random. Sporadic, yes, but not random. But whether or not it was impulsive or unexpected or maybe a little…inappropriate-"
"Inappropriate?"
"Given our working relationship."
"You're right," he sarcastically retorted, "two people who are both unemployed should try to keep things free of professional complications. Hard to believe we fit each other in, with these busy schedules."
"You know what I mean. If they are already accusing me of favoritism-"
"We'll tell Wilson to keep it quiet until we get our jobs back. If he wants us back, which he clearly does, he'll keep it to himself."
"True," she answered, pausing for a minute. "You know, even if it was impulsive or inappropriate, it was really, really great, it was…yea. And I don't regret it, at all, I want you to know that. I just don't want to broadcast it yet if we're going to try to get our jobs back."
He stalled. Until that point, he had the impression that she was trying to talk away what had happened, but between the look on her face and the words that she had spoken, that didn't seem to be the case. "Was it?" he tried to answer casually, his eyes giving him away.
"Do you regret it?" she asked with an almost undetectable flicker of worry.
He stared intensely for longer than necessary before answering, "You're joking, right?"
She watched him, his expression becoming noticeably lighter, and she asked bluntly, "Was that just a one-time thing?"
"If we're limiting our discussion to this decade, it was a two-time thing, or, more accurately, a three-time thing for you," he mentioned, "depending on how we're defining 'times' in this case."
"I mean, in your mind, was that a freak incident, or is there a possibility of recurrence?"
"You want to have sex in Wilson's car?"
"Not this second, you irritating ass."
"If we get to the pet names stage, can mine be, 'you irritating ass'?"
"Seems inevitable," she said with a breathed laugh. "You don't want to talk about it. That's fine."
After a pause, he said, "How seriously are you considering a move cross-country?"
"I'm not sure," she answered thoughtfully, "the whole interview thing happened so fast. Everything is happening so fast. The last few days seem surreal."
House didn't respond, save the subtle drop of his shoulders, as they watched Wilson return. "You guys ready?" Wilson asked as he started the car, "this is kind of exciting."
The two board members sitting at the table were beyond surprised to see the trio arrive, and tried to hide their desire to disappear behind phony smiles.
"Lisa," the woman said sweetly, "how have you been?"
"I've been better, Sandra," Cuddy answered immediately, turning to the man and adding, "Hi Steven."
Sandra sat down, gesturing for the others to join her, "So what's new?"
House leaned forward, loudly saying, "We missed you, so we decided to come here and share pointless hours of small talk, carefully avoiding anything that may be seen as interesting or pertinent."
"OK," Sandra nodded nervously.
"What the fuck happened to Cuddy's job?" House blurted.
"Let's calm down," Steven said smoothly. "If you want to address this, you need to go through official channels. We, personally, don't owe you any answers."
"It's true," House spoke over Cuddy's attempt to answer. "It's not like Cuddy made that malpractice suit disappear for you six months ago, back when the light in her office was on at least three times as much as it was off. She had all of those meetings, and somehow you come away without the slightest mark on your record. And Sandra, when your granddaughter was sick, and Cuddy called in some huge favors to give you three weeks off with no notice whatsoever, remember that? Now she called in a doctor from another hospital to cover most of your regular appointments, but did you know that she covered every single one of your clinic hours over those three weeks herself? Wow, you're right, why help that selfish bitch?"
"I never called her that," Sandra defended, looking guiltier by the moment.
"It seems like Steve has also forgotten," House pretended to whisper, leaning closer to Sandra, "that when his wife came into the hospital, screaming in the atrium about that affair she found out about, it was Cuddy who calmed her down to avoid any arrests or really potentially embarrassing situations. I'm sure she couldn't have done something simple like…call security. Given the threats your wife was making, Cuddy would have been justified in calling the cops. I'm sure that was purely professional too, and not a personal favor of any kind."
"What does this have to do with you?" Steven griped, looking around in the hopes that no one had heard the discussion.
"I'm a concerned citizen. And I bailed each of you out myself when you both fucked up that case last year that would have easily been another malpractice suit if the patient would have died, just in case you need any additional incentive."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Steven retorted. "I've never-"
"Shut up, Steven," Sandra interjected. "Lisa, a few board members came to us with concerns about the loss of Edward Vogler's money and support. Most of us felt confident that keeping you as our administrator made the most sense, and that you were right in encouraging us to keep our independence. But when we found out the circumstances surrounding how you got the job originally, and about the personal issues that came into play with Mr. Vogler-"
"What personal issues?" Cuddy asked, "And what do you mean by 'how I got the job'?"
"There were pictures, Lisa," Steven answered, as if Cuddy should have been appropriately concerned about the existence of evidence.
"Pictures of what?"
"Of you and Dr. Ackert," Steven whispered.
"He was…a great dean," Cuddy responded, "and a fantastic mentor."
"Who's Ackert?" Wilson asked.
"The last dean, one of the original team who interviewed me. He stayed on the board my first year, helped with the transition. I adored him."
"I think your adoration is part of the problem," Steven added suggestively.
"They think she slept with the last dean in order to get the job," House said to Wilson. "Who cares if she did? She's done things for that hospital that no one else would do, made positive changes and brought recognition. No matter how she got there, she's the best person for the job."
"I did not sleep with him. Or anyone on the board or anyone I interviewed with," Cuddy defended. "Ackert was almost paternal in his support."
"Ask him," House suggested.
"He died. Last year," Cuddy answered.
"The point is, it doesn't matter. You've more than proven yourself. So who cares who you slept with years ago?"
"I think the board was willing to overlook that indiscretion," Sandra said, clarifying, "alleged indiscretion. But when you allowed your personal affairs to impact funding now-"
"Funding?" Wilson asked, "What does that have to do with Ackert?"
Sandra leaned forward, her expression more sympathetic, "There were pictures of you and Mr. Vogler…outside of a hotel, at a restaurant-"
"I did not sleep with Edward Vogler," Cuddy interrupted adamantly.
"We were told that you propositioned him. And when he declined your proposition, you went on a campaign to get rid of him."
House huffed, "If he turned her down, why were they at a hotel?"
"I don't know. Maybe they went there to talk," Steven responded, "and that's where he turned her down."
"I've been in restaurants with every person at this table, so I don't know what a restaurant picture really proves except that we ate together. I did not have an affair with Vogler nor did I ever proposition him. Ask him!" Sandra and Steven both looked away and Cuddy nodded knowingly, "He's corroborating the story."
"Apparently," Sandra answered. "We didn't speak to him directly."
"I want to see the pictures," House demanded.
"I can't get them for you. The last time I saw them, Mr. Malloy was taking them back to his office."
House turned to Steven, staring into him, "If only someone else who owed Cuddy in a very serious way would be willing to do the right thing."
"I'll get them," Steven begrudgingly offered. "I can probably get to them tomorrow. If not…then definitely Thursday."
"Thank you," Cuddy replied.
"I admit that I owe you a favor, so if I do this, are we even?"
"Don't do it because you-"
House interrupted, "If you do this, and when it comes back to vote, you bring Cuddy back on as dean, then you're even. Until then, you still owe her. And she might not use what she knows to her advantage, but I will."
Later that night, Cuddy sat in her living room, lamenting the turns that her career had taken while wondering what in the hell was going on in her personal life. When she returned to House's apartment with Wilson after meeting the board members, she knew it was best to for her to be alone. She watched House's grumpy expression when she quickly said goodbye to both men and left. Everything was complicated and intense, and yet she knew that, in spite of everything, she wanted to get in her car to go see him. Given the accusations presented to her earlier, she knew it wasn't a good idea. If she was being watched, giving someone proof of an affair with House seemed only to lend credence to the other accusations they were making.
When her phone rang, she picked it up, certain that it was House because she could sense his impending presence. Her stomach fluttered as she answered, "Hey."
"Lisa Cuddy?"
"Yea," Cuddy answered, walking to the kitchen to pace, "who's this?"
"Bradley Nease from the Marilyn H. Crayton Hospital. How are you, Dr. Cuddy?"
"Fine, you?"
"Great. I spoke to your assistant earlier about our need to accelerate the hiring process-"
"He mentioned it. Bradley-," Cuddy smiled as she saw House's face in her kitchen window, waiting for her. His expression was heavy and sad, his eyes patiently asking to be granted entrance. She held up one finger to ask him to wait as she said into the phone, "I can't."
"Let us discuss our benefits package and our plans with you. You'll see, this is the right place for you. This hospital was practically made for a woman with your vision-"
"My life is here, my family is nearby, and the job I want is here too. I don't want you to waste your time and energy on interviews if I'm ultimately not willing to take the position."
"If you change your mind within the next week, please let us know immediately. After that, I'm afraid it will be too late."
"I will. Thank you for considering me for the position," she answered, ending the call. When she went to let him in, she saw House disappear from the window and reappear at her door. "I'll warn you in advance, after today's accusations, I'm not exactly feeling frisky."
"You think I'm here for a replay?" he asked with feigned horror.
"What are you doing here?"
"Was that Bradley on the phone?"
"Yes."
"Did you reschedule your interview?"
"No," she answered as she watched disappointment cover his face.
He gathered resolve and said, "If you go, I'll have to leave Wilson when I go with you. I don't want to leave Wilson. He's completely helpless without my guidance."
"Is he?" she chuckled.
"It's heartbreaking."
"You're interested in going to San Diego?"
"You're fun to drink with, that's one in the pros column. But besides that, I want a job, and I really like having sex with you. I want to do it more often. If you're in San Diego, and you're the only person who will employ me, and the only way to have sex with you is, by definition, by being with you, then I don't really have another choice."
"I guess that's true."
"I'll do what I have to do, but relocation is definitely not ideal. Unless you don't want me to come."
"I don't really want to live there either. I'd miss my sister and her family, friends, Wilson…"
He looked at her expectantly, "Unwilling to add any intriguing, charming, ridiculously virile men to that list?"
"I won't miss Steven that much," she teased. "I didn't reschedule my interview because I…told them I wasn't interested."
His eyes lifted, "Really?"
"Yea. Although…given that I've been accused of sleeping my way into my job, and then propositioning the hospital out of money, it's probably not in either of our best interests to pursue something now."
"I won't tell a soul. Plus, I hate doing the things that are in my best interest. It's more fun doing you."
"Nice," she laughed, trying to look reproaching.
"Secrecy is part of my game. It's why I'm coming in the back door, literally. That is, if you let me in."
She stepped back and watched while he limped into her kitchen, looking her over thoroughly and without the slightest haste. Breaking the silence, she questioned, "You want to come in even though I already warned you that I'm not really in the mood for sex?"
"Funny thing about moods, they're influenced by circumstances. Things that are forbidden are hot. Also, sometimes convincing someone else that they are actually in the mood can be part of the fun."
"I can imagine."
"Or I can just loiter here at your place and wait for your friskiness to return. Seems a shame to waste my skills like that."
"Do you think someone's watching us?"
"Sounds even better."
"Do you think we're being followed? Maybe someone's sitting outside in a van, taking more pictures?"
"We've been hanging out at each other's homes since you got fired. If anyone asks, we were drinking and plotting your return," he walked patiently toward her, stepping into her space and leaning slowly down until his lips could graze against hers.
When he pulled back, he watched the desire in her eyes contradicting her words, "Our timing isn't good, we might be risking-"
He interrupted her with a kiss, one less hesitant as it became clear how much he wanted to be there with her. Her response was immediate and devout, sending pangs of desire throughout his body. She stopped again for a moment when her rational mind screamed more loudly than her body, "What if they use this to prove a pattern of behavior?"
"You're sleeping with me to get ahead? How does that make sense? And once we discredit the other allegations, no one's going to believe any of their claims. Plus, I'm obviously the one pursuing you."
His hands and body were moving against hers again and she sighed, "What if they don't say I'm doing it to get ahead…what if they just say I'm some sort of sex-crazed maniac and that it interferes with my ability to do my job well?"
He paused and looked at her, "Are you a sex-crazed maniac? Because that would be so cool," before his lips moved down toward her breast.
"That feels so good," she sighed, her hands grabbing his shoulders and the back of his head while she tried to pull her body closer to him. "I can't think like this."
Speaking against her skin, he added, "Good. When the board realizes how stupid they were, they are going to feel like the world's biggest dumbasses for buying that crap. They'll be begging you to come back. Besides, as far as Vogler or Malloy or whoever is concerned, it's mission accomplished, they got rid of you. Why would they be watching you now? " He pulled her shirt off, letting his cane drop against a chair so he could feel the weight of her breasts in his hands, a look of astonishment on his face. "Your body is almost too perfect."
"Too perfect?"
"I said almost," he answered before he pulled her tightly against him.
She could feel how aroused he was already, and her concerns began fading into desire. "This is crazy."
"You want me to stop?" he asked as he nipped along her neck.
"I like crazy, crazy feels, so…I want you to stay. Stay."
"You really are sex-crazed, aren't you?" he grinned.
Pushing his body back from hers for a moment, she said in the sexiest voice he had ever heard, "Hope you can handle it." She turned toward her room, holding out a hand and waiting.
He quickly grabbed his Vicodin, swallowing a pill and picking up his cane. Taking her hand, he said with a truly salacious smirk, "I've always dreamed of sleeping my way to the top."