No Children, 6/16, PG13
Aug. 26th, 2008 12:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
damelolaTitle: No Children (part 6 of 16)
Author: Lola Lauriestein
Rating: R for language and some of the banter is getting a little more sexual!
Pairing: Cuddy/OMC, House/Cuddy, House, Cuddy, Wilson friendship.
Spoilers: Everything up to Wilson's Heart, takes place not long after.
Disclaimer: not-not-mine, House et al belong to David Shore, Fox etc. The song "No Children" is by The Mountain Goats, they are awesome and you should check them out.
Summary: Cuddy has a new boyfriend, House has a problem and Wilson is grieving. As matters go from bad to worse, will they be able to help each other as they once did? Friendships under strain and tough decisions ahoy.
With thanks to my awesome beta,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lucyvanflick! Thank you to everyone for your thoughtful and considered criticism so far, it's giving me so much confidence when something I really worked at goes over in the right way.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“In my life, I hope I lie and tell everyone you were a good wife”
Zach made no attempt to hide his displeasure when she informed him of her new plan.
“Jesus, Lisa. One minute you can’t miss an hour for dinner because the hospital will crumble without you, the next you’re skipping off to Connecticut for God knows how long.”
“It’s not indefinite Zach, just for the funeral. He’s one of my oldest friends and he doesn’t have anyone else right now,” Cuddy explained in her most pacifying tone, but couldn’t contain her mild irritation at once again being in a position where she had to explain her every move. She felt her eyebrow begin to arch, a sure sign that she was getting annoyed. Forcing herself to calm down, knowing it was most likely her own guilt about leaving that was putting her on the defensive.
His eyes narrowed at the ‘oldest friend’ comment, and she resisted the panicked urge to emphasize the platonic nature of it all. The last thing she needed was to screw this up permanently. As soon as she’s made sure House was alright, she’d be able to get back into focus. After all, it was really just damage prevention for the hospital, making sure he wouldn’t act outrageously because of grief.
“If you’re going to drive up there tomorrow, can’t you at least stay with me tonight? I thought it was the guy who was supposed to get twitchy after you finally sleep together.”
It was impossible to ignore the wheedling note in Zach’s voice, it was so important to him that she stay. Nor could she ignore the accusation that she was ready to run now that she had gotten him into bed. Cuddy repressed her natural inclination for a bitchy retort and stuck to keeping the peace.
“I’m not twitchy, really I’m not. I’m having a lot of fun with you. It’s just that sometimes stuff happens which means I can’t give you my whole attention. I need to sort out a lot tonight before I can go anywhere. This isn’t something that happens everyday, but I feel very strongly that I have to do this.”
Zach relented at last, taking her in his arms and kissing her possessively.
“I’m not some jealous idiot, but can you blame me for assuming every guy is just waiting to steal you away from me? Have you seen yourself?”
She laughed at his compliment, blushing furiously.
“I get that you have some guilt issues here, from what you told me about his leg. I’m happy to hang around while you get your life in order. Just don’t neglect me altogether, huh? Now go get in your status symbol car and fix the world. I’ll be here when you get back.” He gave her a parting smile which made her feel that twinge of guilt sharply than ever; she had thought she would feel better for going with his blessing.
Cuddy gathered her purse and coat gratefully, shaking her head at the miracle of having found a genuinely understanding guy. It was a pleasant change to receive compliments instead of insults, though she’d deny being so easily flattered. When she sorted all this out, she vowed that she would really give this relationship the attention it deserved.
By 10 the next morning, she was on the road, sunglasses in place to hide the effects of her sleepless night and shield her from the weakening September sunlight. The deputy administrator had almost keeled over from shock when she announced her impromptu leave, he was used to having nothing to do except for covering her reluctant two weeks of vacation every year. Cuddy presented the ageing doctor with a plan of action so thorough that he could have invaded a country, never mind simply kept a couple of donors happy for a day or two. The gossip mill was in overdrive before she cleared the doors of the clinic, and it wouldn’t take long for the nurses to note the additional absence of one Dr. Greg House. Let them spin their rumors, she thought, they’ll feel guilty when they realize he’s been mourning rather than on a dirty weekend away. She called Foreman from the parking lot, unwilling to see the little general’s reaction to being handed at least another week in charge. Duties done, she slipped into her car and settled for the long drive ahead.
Cuddy was glad she had shelled out for such a comfortable car. After the first hour she was starting to feel the creeping signs of boredom. Nothing on the radio held her interest, and there was no time to enjoy the scenery for a careful driver like her. It occurred to her about 90 minutes out of Princeton that she hadn’t bothered to tell House she was coming. She had simply taken his parents’ address from his file and set out without a second thought. She toyed with the idea of calling him, but was oddly reluctant to risk that he would tell her to turn around and leave them alone. Her SatNav seemed to know exactly where she was going, though; the big gray space next to her destination confirmed her suspicion that it was indeed close to some sort of military base.
She wished she could remember more about his parents, but it was difficult to recall a lot from the two brief chats on their occasional visits to the hospital. They had seemed perfectly pleasant, and the visits had formed some of the rare moments when she had seen House on his best behavior. On the most recent one, she had recognized the familiar nudging and whispering he received from his mother as Cuddy had walked away, a favorite tactic of her own mother. No doubt Blythe had wanted to see her son happy. It couldn’t have been easy to see him in such pain. Briefly, she wondered what they had thought of Stacy, if she had been a welcome addition to the family, or if they were the kind to leave partners as outsiders. Perhaps this trip would allow her to get to the bottom of House’s extreme awkwardness around his parents; they seemed like such decent people. It would hardly be a shock to find out that House was just being contrary.
Arriving in New London, she felt nothing at the ordinariness of it all. She could see ships and what must be a submarine in the bay, and made her way slowly through side streets towards her destination. Realizing she couldn’t just appear at the door, she reached nervously for her phone and dialed his number from memory. Getting no answer, she searched her call history for the 860 number he had last called her from, hoping it was the house and not the hospital. She was rewarded by his father’s gruff voice, and asked for Greg, wondering if she should have stuck with Gregory. Carefully, she offered her condolences which were gracefully accepted. After a small eternity, she heard the telltale thump of his cane as he approached the phone.
“House?”
“Cuddy, I’m fine. You don’t need to call every day to make sure we’ve ordered the right sandwiches for the mourners.”
“No, it’s not that. I’m sort of… Well what I’m trying to say is that I’m right outside of your house.”
“I have an apartment, Cuddy, and unless you’re planning to break in and steal my underwear, I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“No, not your place. Your parents’ house.”
He cursed quietly and hung up, leaving her slightly perplexed. Was he just going to ignore her arrival?
She was relieved to see the door of number 19 open a few moments later, the scowling face she had worried about staring at her from across the street. Cuddy almost leapt out of the car in her rush to hug him, meeting him halfway down the garden path.
“Jesus, woman, I need those ribs. They’re holding some pretty important organs in place.” Though he tried his best to sound angry with her, there was no mistaking the relief in his voice, or the fact that he held her just as tightly in return.
“Shut up,” she snapped back through her tears. It felt unreasonably good to be able to touch him again, and reassure herself that he was still there; that she could get him through this. Although he bitched and moaned about his family, she knew how much he loved his mother, and even curmudgeonly House wouldn’t get through this unscathed. At his little cough of impatience, she finally released him from her vise-like grip.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the interstate booty call, but I have a funeral to organize, and you have a building full of useless underlings to terrorize.”
“I came here to support you, you ungrateful ass. I went through this with my dad, but I had my sisters to pick up the slack. There’s a lot to get done, and let’s face it, you’re pretty lazy.”
He scowled harder at her character assassination, though he knew its accuracy as well as she did. With a sigh that she interpreted as acceptance, he indicated that she should get her bags from the car.
“We’ll discuss later why you drove halfway through New England to help me pick out floral arrangements. I’ll just try to be grateful that you didn’t bring Cameron and give her the chance to make puppy eyes at me. For now, just keep quiet while I deal with my father, ok? I’ll get you away from him and into the guest room as soon as I can.”
Cuddy didn’t question his slightly strange request, but did manage to smack his arm as he rolled her eyes at her luggage. Apparently, House never needed more than a backpack and a bottle of Vicodin.
As they stepped over the threshold, it struck her how surreal her actions had been. Not only had she showed up unannounced at a house in mourning, but she had handed over her hospital to a barely competent sexagenarian who wasn’t sure if she was his boss or one of his daughters.
Panic set in and she whispered urgently to House, “I wasn’t thinking. I can go get a hotel if you want me to stay around for a couple of days. I don’t know what possessed me to just show up here.”
He turned to look at her with exasperation.
“Nobody said you have to go, though you’re making things a little awkward for me. Nothing I can’t squirm my way out of though.”
She didn’t have a chance to protest further, as John House came to see what all the bashing around and whispering in the hallway was about.
“Son? You didn’t tell me we were expecting company.”
The appraising look was clearly a learned trait, and Cuddy felt her designer clothes and luggage subjected to a familiar scrutiny. Summoning her best donor-charming skills, Cuddy extended a hand to the widower.
“Colonel House, we spoke on the phone? I’m so sorry to intrude at such a difficult time. I just wanted to be here for Greg, and if there’s anything at all I can do to help, just let me know. We were just discussing which hotel I should check into.”
His expression was inscrutable, but after a moment he shook his head.
“Well, boy, I thought you were just lying to make your mother happy, taking the easy way out. Didn’t think for a minute you’d actually done something about your damn misery. Ms. Cuddy, you’re welcome to stay. We don’t stand on ceremony here.”
So confused was Cuddy by his remark that she didn’t even feel the reflexive need to correct her title. Besides, if House referred to her as an administrator in such disparaging terms, how was anyone to know she wasn’t his secretary?
As his dad left them to their awkward silence in the hall, Cuddy began gathering her belongings.
“Where’s the damn guest room?”
“Language. And uh, I think the standing on ceremony comment means you’re sleeping in my room. Don’t…argue here. Just come to my room and I’ll explain.”
Grudgingly, Cuddy followed him to his bedroom, expecting a shrine to House the younger, replete with comic books and sporting pennants. She was shocked to see a fairly generic room that could have belonged to anyone. Only after a moment of staring open-mouthed did she remember that he hadn’t grown up here. Didn’t he wow everyone back in Michigan with tales of his exotic childhood?
Closing the door quietly behind her, she turned to him and silently demanded an explanation.
“I lied to my mom. She was going on about how she wished I was happy. Started talking about Stacy and leaving me alone, and I can’t lie to her, you know that. But she was pretty out of it by that point, so I risked it. My dad was just outside so he must have overheard.”
“I don’t understand. You told them you were happy. What does that have to do with our sleeping arrangements?”
“This is why you suck at diagnostics. Can’t get it for yourself, need everything spelled out, preferably in triplicate. I told her I was happy because of you, that we were doing the nasty,” he punctuated his explanation with a blatant gaze at her low-cut red top, if nothing else it confirmed he wasn’t beyond help.
“For your mother’s sake, I hope you phrased it better than that.”
His jaw wobbled slightly at Cuddy mentioning his mother, not yet ready for that particular reality.
“Your name just popped into my head, and I knew she liked you, though God knows why. I can tell my Dad the truth. He’ll love having some new ammo to use on me.”
Cuddy winced at the bitterness in his tone, comparing it with the slight malice of his father’s earlier words. Knowing she would regret her compliance later, she offered nonetheless.
“No need. I can play along, if it makes all this a little easier. But the first time you grope me, all bets are off.”
House attempted one of his infamous leers, but it fell short of his normal standards. Peeling his lanky frame from the bed he had been reclining on, he made to leave.
“Are you tired? The bathroom is next door, and then you can sleep off your drive if you want. I’ll be in the dining room if you want anything. Still got a whole lot of inviting left to do.”
Cuddy watched him leave, his limp more pronounced as his sneakers dragged against the thick pile of the carpet. For a moment, she felt compelled to hug him again, let him rest some of the weight of his grief on her. Unsure if she should risk too much unexpected affection, she held back. As the door closed with the softest of noises, she collapsed back on to the bed.
What the hell was she doing?
Chapter 7
Author: Lola Lauriestein
Rating: R for language and some of the banter is getting a little more sexual!
Pairing: Cuddy/OMC, House/Cuddy, House, Cuddy, Wilson friendship.
Spoilers: Everything up to Wilson's Heart, takes place not long after.
Disclaimer: not-not-mine, House et al belong to David Shore, Fox etc. The song "No Children" is by The Mountain Goats, they are awesome and you should check them out.
Summary: Cuddy has a new boyfriend, House has a problem and Wilson is grieving. As matters go from bad to worse, will they be able to help each other as they once did? Friendships under strain and tough decisions ahoy.
With thanks to my awesome beta,
lucyvanflick! Thank you to everyone for your thoughtful and considered criticism so far, it's giving me so much confidence when something I really worked at goes over in the right way. Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“In my life, I hope I lie and tell everyone you were a good wife”
Zach made no attempt to hide his displeasure when she informed him of her new plan.
“Jesus, Lisa. One minute you can’t miss an hour for dinner because the hospital will crumble without you, the next you’re skipping off to Connecticut for God knows how long.”
“It’s not indefinite Zach, just for the funeral. He’s one of my oldest friends and he doesn’t have anyone else right now,” Cuddy explained in her most pacifying tone, but couldn’t contain her mild irritation at once again being in a position where she had to explain her every move. She felt her eyebrow begin to arch, a sure sign that she was getting annoyed. Forcing herself to calm down, knowing it was most likely her own guilt about leaving that was putting her on the defensive.
His eyes narrowed at the ‘oldest friend’ comment, and she resisted the panicked urge to emphasize the platonic nature of it all. The last thing she needed was to screw this up permanently. As soon as she’s made sure House was alright, she’d be able to get back into focus. After all, it was really just damage prevention for the hospital, making sure he wouldn’t act outrageously because of grief.
“If you’re going to drive up there tomorrow, can’t you at least stay with me tonight? I thought it was the guy who was supposed to get twitchy after you finally sleep together.”
It was impossible to ignore the wheedling note in Zach’s voice, it was so important to him that she stay. Nor could she ignore the accusation that she was ready to run now that she had gotten him into bed. Cuddy repressed her natural inclination for a bitchy retort and stuck to keeping the peace.
“I’m not twitchy, really I’m not. I’m having a lot of fun with you. It’s just that sometimes stuff happens which means I can’t give you my whole attention. I need to sort out a lot tonight before I can go anywhere. This isn’t something that happens everyday, but I feel very strongly that I have to do this.”
Zach relented at last, taking her in his arms and kissing her possessively.
“I’m not some jealous idiot, but can you blame me for assuming every guy is just waiting to steal you away from me? Have you seen yourself?”
She laughed at his compliment, blushing furiously.
“I get that you have some guilt issues here, from what you told me about his leg. I’m happy to hang around while you get your life in order. Just don’t neglect me altogether, huh? Now go get in your status symbol car and fix the world. I’ll be here when you get back.” He gave her a parting smile which made her feel that twinge of guilt sharply than ever; she had thought she would feel better for going with his blessing.
Cuddy gathered her purse and coat gratefully, shaking her head at the miracle of having found a genuinely understanding guy. It was a pleasant change to receive compliments instead of insults, though she’d deny being so easily flattered. When she sorted all this out, she vowed that she would really give this relationship the attention it deserved.
By 10 the next morning, she was on the road, sunglasses in place to hide the effects of her sleepless night and shield her from the weakening September sunlight. The deputy administrator had almost keeled over from shock when she announced her impromptu leave, he was used to having nothing to do except for covering her reluctant two weeks of vacation every year. Cuddy presented the ageing doctor with a plan of action so thorough that he could have invaded a country, never mind simply kept a couple of donors happy for a day or two. The gossip mill was in overdrive before she cleared the doors of the clinic, and it wouldn’t take long for the nurses to note the additional absence of one Dr. Greg House. Let them spin their rumors, she thought, they’ll feel guilty when they realize he’s been mourning rather than on a dirty weekend away. She called Foreman from the parking lot, unwilling to see the little general’s reaction to being handed at least another week in charge. Duties done, she slipped into her car and settled for the long drive ahead.
Cuddy was glad she had shelled out for such a comfortable car. After the first hour she was starting to feel the creeping signs of boredom. Nothing on the radio held her interest, and there was no time to enjoy the scenery for a careful driver like her. It occurred to her about 90 minutes out of Princeton that she hadn’t bothered to tell House she was coming. She had simply taken his parents’ address from his file and set out without a second thought. She toyed with the idea of calling him, but was oddly reluctant to risk that he would tell her to turn around and leave them alone. Her SatNav seemed to know exactly where she was going, though; the big gray space next to her destination confirmed her suspicion that it was indeed close to some sort of military base.
She wished she could remember more about his parents, but it was difficult to recall a lot from the two brief chats on their occasional visits to the hospital. They had seemed perfectly pleasant, and the visits had formed some of the rare moments when she had seen House on his best behavior. On the most recent one, she had recognized the familiar nudging and whispering he received from his mother as Cuddy had walked away, a favorite tactic of her own mother. No doubt Blythe had wanted to see her son happy. It couldn’t have been easy to see him in such pain. Briefly, she wondered what they had thought of Stacy, if she had been a welcome addition to the family, or if they were the kind to leave partners as outsiders. Perhaps this trip would allow her to get to the bottom of House’s extreme awkwardness around his parents; they seemed like such decent people. It would hardly be a shock to find out that House was just being contrary.
Arriving in New London, she felt nothing at the ordinariness of it all. She could see ships and what must be a submarine in the bay, and made her way slowly through side streets towards her destination. Realizing she couldn’t just appear at the door, she reached nervously for her phone and dialed his number from memory. Getting no answer, she searched her call history for the 860 number he had last called her from, hoping it was the house and not the hospital. She was rewarded by his father’s gruff voice, and asked for Greg, wondering if she should have stuck with Gregory. Carefully, she offered her condolences which were gracefully accepted. After a small eternity, she heard the telltale thump of his cane as he approached the phone.
“House?”
“Cuddy, I’m fine. You don’t need to call every day to make sure we’ve ordered the right sandwiches for the mourners.”
“No, it’s not that. I’m sort of… Well what I’m trying to say is that I’m right outside of your house.”
“I have an apartment, Cuddy, and unless you’re planning to break in and steal my underwear, I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“No, not your place. Your parents’ house.”
He cursed quietly and hung up, leaving her slightly perplexed. Was he just going to ignore her arrival?
She was relieved to see the door of number 19 open a few moments later, the scowling face she had worried about staring at her from across the street. Cuddy almost leapt out of the car in her rush to hug him, meeting him halfway down the garden path.
“Jesus, woman, I need those ribs. They’re holding some pretty important organs in place.” Though he tried his best to sound angry with her, there was no mistaking the relief in his voice, or the fact that he held her just as tightly in return.
“Shut up,” she snapped back through her tears. It felt unreasonably good to be able to touch him again, and reassure herself that he was still there; that she could get him through this. Although he bitched and moaned about his family, she knew how much he loved his mother, and even curmudgeonly House wouldn’t get through this unscathed. At his little cough of impatience, she finally released him from her vise-like grip.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the interstate booty call, but I have a funeral to organize, and you have a building full of useless underlings to terrorize.”
“I came here to support you, you ungrateful ass. I went through this with my dad, but I had my sisters to pick up the slack. There’s a lot to get done, and let’s face it, you’re pretty lazy.”
He scowled harder at her character assassination, though he knew its accuracy as well as she did. With a sigh that she interpreted as acceptance, he indicated that she should get her bags from the car.
“We’ll discuss later why you drove halfway through New England to help me pick out floral arrangements. I’ll just try to be grateful that you didn’t bring Cameron and give her the chance to make puppy eyes at me. For now, just keep quiet while I deal with my father, ok? I’ll get you away from him and into the guest room as soon as I can.”
Cuddy didn’t question his slightly strange request, but did manage to smack his arm as he rolled her eyes at her luggage. Apparently, House never needed more than a backpack and a bottle of Vicodin.
As they stepped over the threshold, it struck her how surreal her actions had been. Not only had she showed up unannounced at a house in mourning, but she had handed over her hospital to a barely competent sexagenarian who wasn’t sure if she was his boss or one of his daughters.
Panic set in and she whispered urgently to House, “I wasn’t thinking. I can go get a hotel if you want me to stay around for a couple of days. I don’t know what possessed me to just show up here.”
He turned to look at her with exasperation.
“Nobody said you have to go, though you’re making things a little awkward for me. Nothing I can’t squirm my way out of though.”
She didn’t have a chance to protest further, as John House came to see what all the bashing around and whispering in the hallway was about.
“Son? You didn’t tell me we were expecting company.”
The appraising look was clearly a learned trait, and Cuddy felt her designer clothes and luggage subjected to a familiar scrutiny. Summoning her best donor-charming skills, Cuddy extended a hand to the widower.
“Colonel House, we spoke on the phone? I’m so sorry to intrude at such a difficult time. I just wanted to be here for Greg, and if there’s anything at all I can do to help, just let me know. We were just discussing which hotel I should check into.”
His expression was inscrutable, but after a moment he shook his head.
“Well, boy, I thought you were just lying to make your mother happy, taking the easy way out. Didn’t think for a minute you’d actually done something about your damn misery. Ms. Cuddy, you’re welcome to stay. We don’t stand on ceremony here.”
So confused was Cuddy by his remark that she didn’t even feel the reflexive need to correct her title. Besides, if House referred to her as an administrator in such disparaging terms, how was anyone to know she wasn’t his secretary?
As his dad left them to their awkward silence in the hall, Cuddy began gathering her belongings.
“Where’s the damn guest room?”
“Language. And uh, I think the standing on ceremony comment means you’re sleeping in my room. Don’t…argue here. Just come to my room and I’ll explain.”
Grudgingly, Cuddy followed him to his bedroom, expecting a shrine to House the younger, replete with comic books and sporting pennants. She was shocked to see a fairly generic room that could have belonged to anyone. Only after a moment of staring open-mouthed did she remember that he hadn’t grown up here. Didn’t he wow everyone back in Michigan with tales of his exotic childhood?
Closing the door quietly behind her, she turned to him and silently demanded an explanation.
“I lied to my mom. She was going on about how she wished I was happy. Started talking about Stacy and leaving me alone, and I can’t lie to her, you know that. But she was pretty out of it by that point, so I risked it. My dad was just outside so he must have overheard.”
“I don’t understand. You told them you were happy. What does that have to do with our sleeping arrangements?”
“This is why you suck at diagnostics. Can’t get it for yourself, need everything spelled out, preferably in triplicate. I told her I was happy because of you, that we were doing the nasty,” he punctuated his explanation with a blatant gaze at her low-cut red top, if nothing else it confirmed he wasn’t beyond help.
“For your mother’s sake, I hope you phrased it better than that.”
His jaw wobbled slightly at Cuddy mentioning his mother, not yet ready for that particular reality.
“Your name just popped into my head, and I knew she liked you, though God knows why. I can tell my Dad the truth. He’ll love having some new ammo to use on me.”
Cuddy winced at the bitterness in his tone, comparing it with the slight malice of his father’s earlier words. Knowing she would regret her compliance later, she offered nonetheless.
“No need. I can play along, if it makes all this a little easier. But the first time you grope me, all bets are off.”
House attempted one of his infamous leers, but it fell short of his normal standards. Peeling his lanky frame from the bed he had been reclining on, he made to leave.
“Are you tired? The bathroom is next door, and then you can sleep off your drive if you want. I’ll be in the dining room if you want anything. Still got a whole lot of inviting left to do.”
Cuddy watched him leave, his limp more pronounced as his sneakers dragged against the thick pile of the carpet. For a moment, she felt compelled to hug him again, let him rest some of the weight of his grief on her. Unsure if she should risk too much unexpected affection, she held back. As the door closed with the softest of noises, she collapsed back on to the bed.
What the hell was she doing?
Chapter 7
