Chapter 21 – Old Wounds, New Tensions

"Gregory House," a voice said, interrupting his peaceful mid-morning break. House was lounging in the hospital cafeteria, alone, while his team ran the preliminary tests on their newest patient. He looked up from his fries and groaned inwardly. Crap, he thought.

Victoria Wells stood beside his table, her expression unreadable.

"As I live and breathe," he responded, putting on his most indifferent face. "Look, I… I owe you an apology."

"An apology?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"It was a stupid thing done by a stupid college boy. Completely uncalled for," he said, attempting his best Cuddy impression. "Nothing justifies what I did, and I'm genuinely sorry."

"It was just a joke," she said, her smile a thin, forced line. "The worst part wasn't the humiliation—it was you breaking my heart, Greg." Her tone shifted, and House's discomfort grew, but fortunately, he was saved by an impeccable sense of timing.

"Dr. Wells," Cuddy greeted as she approached the table, her face showing subtle concern as she saw Victoria and House mid-conversation.

"Dr. Cuddy," Victoria replied, flashing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I was just reacquainting myself with some colleagues. Or in this case, reconnecting. Greg and I were classmates at Hopkins. Did you know that?"

"I did," Cuddy answered with a polite smile, feeling a wave of relief that things hadn't gone off the rails.

"My husband told me," she added, emphasizing the word husband just enough to catch Victoria off guard. For a split second, Victoria's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly masked it. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," Cuddy continued, still smiling.

Victoria nodded, thanked her, and moved on, leaving House and Cuddy alone.

"I swear, I didn't say anything," House blurted as soon as Victoria was out of earshot. "I apologized."

"House..."

"I apologized!" he repeated, almost pleading.

"Stay away from her," Cuddy repeated firmly, her tone leaving no room for debate. "For every reason imaginable, and because I really didn't like the way she was looking at you," she added, sitting beside him.

"Fries this early in the morning?" she asked, eyeing the greasy food with clear disapproval.

"I was hungry," House replied, unfazed, as he popped another fry into his mouth. She made a face of disgust. "They're just fries," he said, pretending to be serious. "You okay?"

"Fried food at 11 a.m.," she muttered, standing up and shaking her head. "I've got a meeting with the surgery team. Lunch at 1?"

"Yeah," he agreed, watching as she turned even paler from the smell. "Take a domperidone," he suggested.

"I'll do that," she said, leaning down to kiss him softly on the lips. She immediately pulled back, making a face. "Fried food," she said, horrified. "You taste like fried food."

-/-

"Dr. Wilson, I believe," Victoria Wells said as she entered the attending's lounge, spotting Wilson eating lunch alone at one of the tables.

"Dr. Wells," he responded politely, immediately standing up to greet her.

"Oh, please," she said with a warm smile that seemed to light up the room. It was one of those smiles that said, I know I'm beautiful, and of course, Wilson was already captivated. "Call me Victoria."

"In that case, call me James," he replied, returning her smile, slightly flustered but eager to make a good impression.

She sat down gracefully, her eyes sparkling with a certain innocence that made her seem approachable, kind even. "I've heard so many great things about you," she said, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at him. "You're quite the renowned oncologist here."

Wilson chuckled softly, waving off the compliment. "Oh, well, I wouldn't say renowned, just doing my part."

"No, really," she continued, leaning in just a little. "You have such a compassionate reputation. I admire that. It must be difficult, your field."

Wilson nodded, his heart rate picking up slightly. There was something in her tone, something warm, as if she genuinely cared about what he did. "It has its challenges, but... it's rewarding too, knowing I can help people through such tough times."

"That's exactly the kind of person this place needs," Victoria said sweetly. "Someone who really cares." She paused, her smile softening. "I know what it's like to work in an environment where not everyone is like that."

Wilson blinked, feeling a rush of sympathy and a strange sense of hope stirring within him. "You've had a rough time in other hospitals?" he asked, suddenly curious.

She sighed lightly, a delicate sound that seemed almost rehearsed in its perfection. "Let's just say... not every place has a James Wilson," she said, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability, as though confiding in him.

Wilson, feeling more connected to her than he had expected, smiled gently. "Well, you won't have to worry about that here."

Victoria's eyes lit up, and she reached out to lightly touch his arm. "Thank you, James. That means a lot."

The warmth in her voice made Wilson feel something he hadn't felt in a long time—lucky boy .

-/-

Cuddy was in a rare, peaceful moment, sipping her coffee slowly as she leaned against House's chest. It had been a long time since she allowed herself to relax like this in public, especially at the hospital. House's arm rested lazily around her waist, his thumb occasionally brushing against her ribs in a way that felt comforting.

Wilson, seated across from them, was telling one of his typical long-winded stories, something about a patient who thought their leg pain was caused by aliens. House, of course, was eating it up, grinning like a mischievous kid.

"So, then this guy looks at me dead in the eyes and says, 'You can't treat me with normal medicine. It has to be from another planet,'" Wilson recounted, barely containing his own laughter.

House, leaning closer to Cuddy's ear, whispered just loud enough for her to hear, "Wilson's patients are the best form of entertainment. The rest of us get heart attacks and lupus scares; he gets sci-fi fan fiction."

Cuddy smiled, shaking her head slightly. "Be nice," she murmured, though the amusement in her voice betrayed her words.

House's eyes sparkled as he looked down at her. "I'm always nice. Just selectively."

Wilson chuckled, oblivious to their banter. "I swear, I have a collection of stories that could get me a book deal. Maybe I'll call it Medical Mysteries: From Aliens to Psychos."

"Catchy," House replied, pressing a kiss on Cuddy's hair. She closed her eyes momentarily, enjoying the sensation, letting herself feel something rare—calm, content, loved.

Just a few tables behind, Victoria Wells sat alone, her lunch untouched. Her blue eyes were fixed on the trio, particularly on House and Cuddy. The subtle affection between them, the way Cuddy nestled into House, the easy way they shared jokes and casual touches—it all seemed to bother her.

She couldn't hear their conversation, but the sight of them together stirred something uncomfortable within her. She stirred her coffee absentmindedly, eyes narrowing slightly. It wasn't envy, exactly. It was more… irritation. Like watching a scene that didn't quite fit the story you thought you knew.

"Greg House," she murmured to herself, her lips barely moving. She remembered him, alright. But this—this domestic, affectionate version of him—wasn't the man she once knew. And certainly not the man who had humiliated her all those years ago.

Her grip tightened around the handle of her cup as she watched House press another quick kiss to Cuddy's head. They seemed completely unaware of her presence, as if they were in their own world.

Victoria's thoughts were interrupted when a nurse came over to ask her a question about her new schedule. She smiled politely and gave the nurse a quick, efficient answer, all while keeping one eye on House and Cuddy. When the nurse walked away, Victoria muttered to herself, "We'll see how long this lasts."

She wasn't sure if she meant House and Cuddy or the strange, simmering anger she felt.

Back at their table, Wilson finished his story with a satisfied sigh. "Alright, I've got to get back to the clinic. If you two lovebirds can tear yourselves apart from each other long enough, we should grab a drink later."

"Alcohol during a workday?" House teased. "I knew there was a rebel in you somewhere, Wilson."

Wilson smirked, tossing his trash into the bin as he stood up. "For you, I'll make an exception. Let me know."

As Wilson walked away, Cuddy finally shifted to sit up properly, stretching slightly before leaning over to place her empty coffee cup on the tray. She glanced at House, who was still lounging against the bench like he had all the time in the world.

"You know we can't stay out here forever," she said softly, though she didn't look like she was in a rush to leave.

House gave a mock sigh. "I guess being the Dean of Medicine means you can't just run away with your incredibly handsome husband to some tropical island?"

Cuddy chuckled, standing up and gathering her things. "Tropical islands are overrated. Besides, we'd get bored after a week."

"Speak for yourself," House replied, standing up beside her. "I'd find plenty of ways to keep you entertained."

Cuddy rolled her eyes but smiled. "Come on. We've got a hospital to run."

As they walked back toward the hospital doors, Victoria stood up from her table, watching them from a distance, her eyes narrowing once again. Something about this whole scene didn't sit right with her. She wasn't going to let it go easily.

Inside the hospital, as House and Cuddy moved down the hallway together, he glanced sideways at her. "You know, Wells was at the cafeteria earlier. Tried to have a little heart-to-heart."

Cuddy stiffened slightly. "What did she want?"

"Nothing serious," House said nonchalantly. "Just brought up the fact that I 'broke her heart.'" He said the last part with an exaggerated dramatic flair.

Cuddy stopped walking and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "House… I told you—"

"I know, I know. Stay away from her," he interrupted. "But she's the one who came to me."

Cuddy crossed her arms, looking at him seriously. "And?"

"And I apologized. Like you wanted. Even did the whole heartfelt thing. Aren't you proud of me?" House asked, feigning innocence.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "House… I just don't trust her. Not after the way she looked at you earlier."

House tilted his head. "Jealous, are we?"

"No," Cuddy said firmly. "But I'm not blind either. Just… be careful."

House looked at her for a moment, his usual sarcasm fading slightly. "I will. Promise."

Cuddy nodded, though she still looked uneasy as they walked toward her office. Something about Victoria Wells nagged at her. She had a bad feeling that her...