No Children, 9/16, PG13
Sep. 1st, 2008 06:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
damelolaTitle: No Children (part 9 of 16)
Author: Lola Lauriestein
Rating: PG13-R for language, occasional sex references!
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. We're getting a lot more Wilson these days ;)
With thanks to my awesome beta,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lucyvanflick! I'm really overwhelmed with the response to this fic so far, and am basically dancing around the room like an eejit every time I read a nice comment, so thank you very much!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
“Our friends say it’s darkest before the sun rises,
We’re pretty sure they’re all wrong”
Wilson had never liked Cuddy’s voicemail message, having heard it too many times when he was stressed and desperately needed his boss to bail him out. That, or he would be leaving her the Readers’ Digest version of House’s latest escapade so that she wouldn’t be ambushed at work the next morning. Today he just wanted to talk to her about House, not listen to her listing various emergency contacts that could be tried in her absence. On the third attempt he finally left a message, finding the topic completely unsuitable for a 30-second recording.
It surprised him that she didn’t return his call after almost five hours. Barring a coma or a complete network outage, Cuddy had the fastest response time outside of the ambulance service. When she finally did call, it seemed grudging, like she couldn’t get off the phone fast enough.
“Cuddy, I just found out about House’s mom. Finnan said that she went pretty quickly with the damage from the surgery. Did you speak to House yet?”
An awkward silence on her end--a sure sign that her wheels of thought were in motion. Eventually she came up with an answer.
“Yeah, he’s at home, dealing with stuff. I guess he’ll be back next week. Listen, Wilson, I can’t really talk now, Zach just arrived. I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”
Wilson ended the call feeling a little pissed, almost like Cuddy had been trying to keep the information from him. No matter what had happened, House had been his friend for years, and she didn’t have the monopoly on his life just because things had been weird for a while. He tried House’s cell one more time, but got an even more annoying message. He’d talk to him soon enough.
Cuddy jumped from the sofa as soon as she got rid of Wilson, intent on keeping House out of her evening. Zach had just pulled into the driveway, and she was waiting by the door when he reached it. Drawing him into a hungry kiss, she practically dragged him into the hallway. He broke away with some difficulty.
“Whoa! You grab a guy like that, you end up with merlot splashed all over your porch!”
“I missed you. If you don’t mind skipping the restaurant, I think I can find a way for us to pass the time.”
Cuddy was a woman on a mission, stripping her top over her head as she issued the invitation. Zach swallowed hard, unaccustomed to Lisa Cuddy at her most determined. Luckily, he wasn’t actually an idiot and placed the bottle of wine carefully on the hall table before joining her in a somewhat rapid shedding of clothes. It looked as though absence really did make the heart grow fonder.
A couple of hours later, they were tucked in bathrobes on her sofa, eating pizza and sipping large glasses of the red wine. Reruns of Frasier played softly in the background but neither paying particular attention to the television.
“So, how was it?” Zach asked, the apprehension in his voice not entirely hidden.
Cuddy shrugged, hoping her pained facial expression would say it all.
“Funerals are always depressing. It’s done now; he’ll be back in a few days.”
Nonchalance was her best option, play down the importance of going at all, as though she would do the same for any of her employees. For tonight, she was in the mood to be adored, appreciated. Thinking about the past of couple of days left her feeling confused, angry and not just a little stupid. Why dwell on that when she could be feeling fantastic?
“Well, I know you’ll be immersing yourself in work again from tomorrow, but how about we go away for the day on Sunday? Nothing fancy, maybe just drive out to one of the parks, do some hiking?”
The expectation on his face made it impossible for Cuddy to refuse. Besides, she felt like getting out of town and away from distractions, even if only for a few hours. She didn’t exactly like hiking, but supposed it was just slower running with different footwear; another way to get her daily quota of exercise. More than anything else, it felt damn nice to be wanted.
Cuddy was in a pretty good mood when she returned to the hospital the next morning, a feeling compounded by the lack of smoldering ruins or full-scale riots. At worst, she’d have a queue of pissy doctors awaiting her signature, but that was hardly unusual. She stopped by the cafeteria for some coffee and something sugary, the previous night’s exertions having taken their toll on her already exhausted body and mind.
Ten seconds into the cafeteria and she was cursing her decision, because a very concerned-looking Cameron was bearing down on her. So much for a gentle easing back into the job; it would be 20 Questions right off the bat.
“Dr. Cuddy, I’m so glad I caught you.” Cameron had an all too familiar glint in her eye, one the Dean recognized but couldn’t quite place.
“Dr. Cameron, how can I help? If you’ve left anything with Dr. Adler, I’ll get to it this morning, just need to caffeinate first.”
Cameron’s roving gaze made Cuddy feel uncomfortable, knowing her still damp hair and heavier than usual makeup were probably all too apparent. If Cameron had been listening to hospital gossip, the last thing Cuddy felt like was soothing Cameron’s broken heart.
“I heard about House’s mom, and figured you’d know if he was ok? When we saw that you were on leave too, I hoped that meant…”
“I was on leave for personal reasons, ones that are none of anybody’s business. House has kept me informed. He’s dealing with a few things at home now that the funeral is over. I expect we’ll see him in the next few days.”
Why lie? All it would take now would be for House to come back and blab about her embarrassing sojourn to Connecticut and she’d look like a fool.
Cameron’s eyes narrowed defensively. It was getting a lot harder to fob her off now that she was no longer merely a fellow.
“I was going to suggest we get together and come up with a plan to keep an eye on him once he’s back – you saw what he was like after Stacy. His pain levels will need special monitoring. However, you don’t seem all that bothered…”
Cuddy sighed, feeling her good mood evaporate like the steam off the coffee that was calling her name from across the room.
“Fine, speak to my assistant and we’ll make some time today or tomorrow. He won’t appreciate us interfering though, trust me on that one.”
Choking back her bitterness, Cuddy stalked off in search of the cup of coffee that was rightfully hers. Cameron hesitated a moment before heading back to the ER. She’d only been puked on once yet on this shift, but there were still three hours to go.
When House arrived at PPTH two days later, he began to seriously wish he hadn’t bothered. He surveyed the building from the parking lot, his mental map of it superimposed over the dull gray brick. He could see the idiots with their autumn colds piling up in the clinic, nurses congregating at the end of quiet corridors for coffee and a gossip out of sight of the taskmaster doctors they worked for. Somewhere on the fourth floor, Foreman would be sifting frantically through piles of records, trying to find a case that would pique the interest of the new ducklings. The ducklings should be playing cards or sleeping, but by now the novelty of being lazy had probably worn off, and Cuddy would have them assigned to the clinic or the ER by now. He scanned the parking lot, surprised to see Wilson’s blue Jag in its usual space. The impulse to head straight for the oncologist’s office took him by surprise, but his emotions were the last thing he could trust right now, and so he ignored them.
It had been a long two days of fake civility, his cousins surprisingly bearable, with only a handful of cripple jokes coming his way. His father flitting around like a ghost, the house echoing at night with just the two of them. He’d discharged all his duties, mailing letters and making phone calls as though he usually avoided such tasks like the plague. Still, barely a word had passed between them, except for one awkward conversation about when to start giving away her clothes to Goodwill. That had fizzled out as they both realized they were nowhere near ready. It had been easier to deal with things when Cuddy had been around to oil the wheels a little.
Yes, Cuddy. She would be in there, no doubt glued to her desk chair: spending thousands with a stroke of her pen, sympathizing with patients that other doctors had failed, reprimanding those doctors in a way that left them close to tears. His mind wandered idly over what she would be wearing today; would it be demure Cuddy with her Victorian ruffled blouses, or dominatrix Cuddy with her skin-tight black blouse that drew all the attention in a room to her cleavage?
It didn’t matter; he was sure he was firmly on top of her shit list, his typical asshole behavior having alienated her once again. It worried him more than usual, because now she had a boyfriend. She was about 15 years too old to be using terms like boyfriend, but nonetheless she was less likely to put up with the worst of House when she was offered the clean-cut, butter-wouldn’t-melt alternative. He didn’t like it one bit, and though he knew it was stupid to risk pissing her off even further, he was simply itching to cause trouble again.
Besides, she might enjoy the drama. If it was all lovey-dovey excitement with the new man, she wouldn’t have uprooted herself to Connecticut just to check on him. House still didn’t understand why she had been there at all, but it certainly kept things interesting.
He couldn’t justify spending the whole morning in the parking lot, and so with a world-weary sigh, he limped the last few yards to the hospital entrance and what he was sure would be a long and tedious day.
It got to almost five before anyone dared to trouble him. He’d dismissed Foreman’s latest attempt at a mystery, diagnosing the patient with an infection before he’d finished reading the first page. Cameron was on her day off, but had left him a note that showed she had finally learned how to deal with him – no soppy sentiment, just a brief sorry and an offer of drinks if he needed it. Hoping he could sneak out early, and surprised but happy that Cuddy hadn’t hounded him over clinic hours, he was shoving his iPod into his backpack when Wilson appeared in his doorway.
Momentarily stunned, he could do little more than offer Wilson a questioning look, temporarily frozen behind his desk.
“I heard about your mom, House. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s not like you killed her.”
Ouch. By the wince that remark drew from the oncologist, House realized his knack for saying precisely the wrong thing was intact.
“Anyway, I wondered if you knew what was going on with Cuddy. One minute she’s calling me about some secret about you, then she disappears. And when she comes back, she’s talking about some guy named Zach, who I’ve never heard of. It’s weird, even for someone as private as Cuddy.”
House considered the information carefully, like tasting a particularly expensive wine. As with most overpriced plonk, it left an unpleasant aftertaste.
“Interesting stuff ,Wilson. I see your reputation as the hospital gossip hound is safe. You said Cuddy told you about this Zach guy after her little holiday? Made a point of it, even?”
“Yeah, so?” Wilson’s confusion was evident as he waited for House to continue.
“Our beloved leader didn’t mention her new role as an escort? Renting herself out for all family gatherings, funerals included? Hey, she’s Jewish, so you might get a discount if you need a date for a bar mitzvah or something.”
Wilson almost strained muscles in his forehead, his eyebrows shot up so quickly.
“Cuddy came to your mother’s funeral? Did you ask her to?”
House rolled his eyes at the very suggestion. He didn’t need anyone, especially not the sexy but evil Dean of Medicine. Which was completely ignoring how much he had liked having her there. He couldn’t help a small smile as he replayed the kiss she gave him when she thought he was sleeping. Catching himself too late, he hastily rearranged his features into their usual mask of contempt.
“Yeah, and if you think that gossip is juicy, well, I’ve got tales that would make your head spin. I mean, if you wanted to grab a beer or something, no big deal.” He tried to inject his usual bored tone into the subtle invitation, too fragile to risk outright rejection.
Wilson had known there would be no fanfare--just one day something would click and they’d be ready to get back to their friendship. If that something was a cold Bud and gossip about their boss, then so be it. He might never get over Amber, but with distance he could see that House hadn’t killed her, and had risked his own life not for her, but for Wilson.
“Sure, should I grab a six-pack and head for your place?”
As expected, the ease of Wilson’s assent had startled House, but the older man covered his shock well. With a shrug, he accepted the plan, as though there had never been a problem between them.
Hours later, as the second six-pack emptied, the two friends regarded each other in the dim light of House’s living room.
“Cuddy kissed someone… and that someone was… you? But she also has this guy, this professor who is definitely not you. So, to sum up, Cuddy kissed you, and at least one other man that we know about.”
Wilson was slurring slightly by that point, resigning himself to a night on House’s lumpy sofa.
“Yep, our wicked mistress is as insatiable as we thought – one man can never be enough for her unnatural desires.”
House had draped himself across the lounger, eyes heavy-lidded from the buzz of the beer and exhaustion. It was a relief to have Wilson here, to say things out loud rather than churning them over in his own head every minute of the day. His peaceful reverie was interrupted by Wilson’s incessant babbling.
“What I find really funny though, is that you’ve only told me, like in some sort of…confidence. The way you normally talk about Cuddy, this kind of ammo should have you parading in front of her office singing ‘House and Cuddy sitting in a tree…’ Or at the very least, printing posters to tell the whole hospital.”
“House, do you like her?”
“Jimmy boy, has that ever worked? I mean, seriously, you come up with some half-baked theory and try to trick me into confirming it with a direct question. Hardly the work of a master, my friend.”
Wilson sincerely enjoyed wiping away the smug smirk that had just appeared on his friend’s face.
“That’s where you’re wrong, old buddy. Your non-answer, your refusal to even address the question, tells me all I need to know. Not to mention that you tensed up so quickly at the very idea that I think you may have pulled some muscles in your back. You have got it bad, and there’s nothing you can say to deny it.”
Maybe it was the beer, or the willingness to concede one little point to aid their healing relationship, but House made no effort to contradict him.
“Doesn’t matter, she has a boyfriend.”
Wilson snorted, almost inhaling his last mouthful of beer.
“Like that ever stopped you.”
Chapter 10
Author: Lola Lauriestein
Rating: PG13-R for language, occasional sex references!
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. We're getting a lot more Wilson these days ;)
With thanks to my awesome beta,
lucyvanflick! I'm really overwhelmed with the response to this fic so far, and am basically dancing around the room like an eejit every time I read a nice comment, so thank you very much!Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
“Our friends say it’s darkest before the sun rises,
We’re pretty sure they’re all wrong”
Wilson had never liked Cuddy’s voicemail message, having heard it too many times when he was stressed and desperately needed his boss to bail him out. That, or he would be leaving her the Readers’ Digest version of House’s latest escapade so that she wouldn’t be ambushed at work the next morning. Today he just wanted to talk to her about House, not listen to her listing various emergency contacts that could be tried in her absence. On the third attempt he finally left a message, finding the topic completely unsuitable for a 30-second recording.
It surprised him that she didn’t return his call after almost five hours. Barring a coma or a complete network outage, Cuddy had the fastest response time outside of the ambulance service. When she finally did call, it seemed grudging, like she couldn’t get off the phone fast enough.
“Cuddy, I just found out about House’s mom. Finnan said that she went pretty quickly with the damage from the surgery. Did you speak to House yet?”
An awkward silence on her end--a sure sign that her wheels of thought were in motion. Eventually she came up with an answer.
“Yeah, he’s at home, dealing with stuff. I guess he’ll be back next week. Listen, Wilson, I can’t really talk now, Zach just arrived. I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”
Wilson ended the call feeling a little pissed, almost like Cuddy had been trying to keep the information from him. No matter what had happened, House had been his friend for years, and she didn’t have the monopoly on his life just because things had been weird for a while. He tried House’s cell one more time, but got an even more annoying message. He’d talk to him soon enough.
Cuddy jumped from the sofa as soon as she got rid of Wilson, intent on keeping House out of her evening. Zach had just pulled into the driveway, and she was waiting by the door when he reached it. Drawing him into a hungry kiss, she practically dragged him into the hallway. He broke away with some difficulty.
“Whoa! You grab a guy like that, you end up with merlot splashed all over your porch!”
“I missed you. If you don’t mind skipping the restaurant, I think I can find a way for us to pass the time.”
Cuddy was a woman on a mission, stripping her top over her head as she issued the invitation. Zach swallowed hard, unaccustomed to Lisa Cuddy at her most determined. Luckily, he wasn’t actually an idiot and placed the bottle of wine carefully on the hall table before joining her in a somewhat rapid shedding of clothes. It looked as though absence really did make the heart grow fonder.
A couple of hours later, they were tucked in bathrobes on her sofa, eating pizza and sipping large glasses of the red wine. Reruns of Frasier played softly in the background but neither paying particular attention to the television.
“So, how was it?” Zach asked, the apprehension in his voice not entirely hidden.
Cuddy shrugged, hoping her pained facial expression would say it all.
“Funerals are always depressing. It’s done now; he’ll be back in a few days.”
Nonchalance was her best option, play down the importance of going at all, as though she would do the same for any of her employees. For tonight, she was in the mood to be adored, appreciated. Thinking about the past of couple of days left her feeling confused, angry and not just a little stupid. Why dwell on that when she could be feeling fantastic?
“Well, I know you’ll be immersing yourself in work again from tomorrow, but how about we go away for the day on Sunday? Nothing fancy, maybe just drive out to one of the parks, do some hiking?”
The expectation on his face made it impossible for Cuddy to refuse. Besides, she felt like getting out of town and away from distractions, even if only for a few hours. She didn’t exactly like hiking, but supposed it was just slower running with different footwear; another way to get her daily quota of exercise. More than anything else, it felt damn nice to be wanted.
Cuddy was in a pretty good mood when she returned to the hospital the next morning, a feeling compounded by the lack of smoldering ruins or full-scale riots. At worst, she’d have a queue of pissy doctors awaiting her signature, but that was hardly unusual. She stopped by the cafeteria for some coffee and something sugary, the previous night’s exertions having taken their toll on her already exhausted body and mind.
Ten seconds into the cafeteria and she was cursing her decision, because a very concerned-looking Cameron was bearing down on her. So much for a gentle easing back into the job; it would be 20 Questions right off the bat.
“Dr. Cuddy, I’m so glad I caught you.” Cameron had an all too familiar glint in her eye, one the Dean recognized but couldn’t quite place.
“Dr. Cameron, how can I help? If you’ve left anything with Dr. Adler, I’ll get to it this morning, just need to caffeinate first.”
Cameron’s roving gaze made Cuddy feel uncomfortable, knowing her still damp hair and heavier than usual makeup were probably all too apparent. If Cameron had been listening to hospital gossip, the last thing Cuddy felt like was soothing Cameron’s broken heart.
“I heard about House’s mom, and figured you’d know if he was ok? When we saw that you were on leave too, I hoped that meant…”
“I was on leave for personal reasons, ones that are none of anybody’s business. House has kept me informed. He’s dealing with a few things at home now that the funeral is over. I expect we’ll see him in the next few days.”
Why lie? All it would take now would be for House to come back and blab about her embarrassing sojourn to Connecticut and she’d look like a fool.
Cameron’s eyes narrowed defensively. It was getting a lot harder to fob her off now that she was no longer merely a fellow.
“I was going to suggest we get together and come up with a plan to keep an eye on him once he’s back – you saw what he was like after Stacy. His pain levels will need special monitoring. However, you don’t seem all that bothered…”
Cuddy sighed, feeling her good mood evaporate like the steam off the coffee that was calling her name from across the room.
“Fine, speak to my assistant and we’ll make some time today or tomorrow. He won’t appreciate us interfering though, trust me on that one.”
Choking back her bitterness, Cuddy stalked off in search of the cup of coffee that was rightfully hers. Cameron hesitated a moment before heading back to the ER. She’d only been puked on once yet on this shift, but there were still three hours to go.
When House arrived at PPTH two days later, he began to seriously wish he hadn’t bothered. He surveyed the building from the parking lot, his mental map of it superimposed over the dull gray brick. He could see the idiots with their autumn colds piling up in the clinic, nurses congregating at the end of quiet corridors for coffee and a gossip out of sight of the taskmaster doctors they worked for. Somewhere on the fourth floor, Foreman would be sifting frantically through piles of records, trying to find a case that would pique the interest of the new ducklings. The ducklings should be playing cards or sleeping, but by now the novelty of being lazy had probably worn off, and Cuddy would have them assigned to the clinic or the ER by now. He scanned the parking lot, surprised to see Wilson’s blue Jag in its usual space. The impulse to head straight for the oncologist’s office took him by surprise, but his emotions were the last thing he could trust right now, and so he ignored them.
It had been a long two days of fake civility, his cousins surprisingly bearable, with only a handful of cripple jokes coming his way. His father flitting around like a ghost, the house echoing at night with just the two of them. He’d discharged all his duties, mailing letters and making phone calls as though he usually avoided such tasks like the plague. Still, barely a word had passed between them, except for one awkward conversation about when to start giving away her clothes to Goodwill. That had fizzled out as they both realized they were nowhere near ready. It had been easier to deal with things when Cuddy had been around to oil the wheels a little.
Yes, Cuddy. She would be in there, no doubt glued to her desk chair: spending thousands with a stroke of her pen, sympathizing with patients that other doctors had failed, reprimanding those doctors in a way that left them close to tears. His mind wandered idly over what she would be wearing today; would it be demure Cuddy with her Victorian ruffled blouses, or dominatrix Cuddy with her skin-tight black blouse that drew all the attention in a room to her cleavage?
It didn’t matter; he was sure he was firmly on top of her shit list, his typical asshole behavior having alienated her once again. It worried him more than usual, because now she had a boyfriend. She was about 15 years too old to be using terms like boyfriend, but nonetheless she was less likely to put up with the worst of House when she was offered the clean-cut, butter-wouldn’t-melt alternative. He didn’t like it one bit, and though he knew it was stupid to risk pissing her off even further, he was simply itching to cause trouble again.
Besides, she might enjoy the drama. If it was all lovey-dovey excitement with the new man, she wouldn’t have uprooted herself to Connecticut just to check on him. House still didn’t understand why she had been there at all, but it certainly kept things interesting.
He couldn’t justify spending the whole morning in the parking lot, and so with a world-weary sigh, he limped the last few yards to the hospital entrance and what he was sure would be a long and tedious day.
It got to almost five before anyone dared to trouble him. He’d dismissed Foreman’s latest attempt at a mystery, diagnosing the patient with an infection before he’d finished reading the first page. Cameron was on her day off, but had left him a note that showed she had finally learned how to deal with him – no soppy sentiment, just a brief sorry and an offer of drinks if he needed it. Hoping he could sneak out early, and surprised but happy that Cuddy hadn’t hounded him over clinic hours, he was shoving his iPod into his backpack when Wilson appeared in his doorway.
Momentarily stunned, he could do little more than offer Wilson a questioning look, temporarily frozen behind his desk.
“I heard about your mom, House. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s not like you killed her.”
Ouch. By the wince that remark drew from the oncologist, House realized his knack for saying precisely the wrong thing was intact.
“Anyway, I wondered if you knew what was going on with Cuddy. One minute she’s calling me about some secret about you, then she disappears. And when she comes back, she’s talking about some guy named Zach, who I’ve never heard of. It’s weird, even for someone as private as Cuddy.”
House considered the information carefully, like tasting a particularly expensive wine. As with most overpriced plonk, it left an unpleasant aftertaste.
“Interesting stuff ,Wilson. I see your reputation as the hospital gossip hound is safe. You said Cuddy told you about this Zach guy after her little holiday? Made a point of it, even?”
“Yeah, so?” Wilson’s confusion was evident as he waited for House to continue.
“Our beloved leader didn’t mention her new role as an escort? Renting herself out for all family gatherings, funerals included? Hey, she’s Jewish, so you might get a discount if you need a date for a bar mitzvah or something.”
Wilson almost strained muscles in his forehead, his eyebrows shot up so quickly.
“Cuddy came to your mother’s funeral? Did you ask her to?”
House rolled his eyes at the very suggestion. He didn’t need anyone, especially not the sexy but evil Dean of Medicine. Which was completely ignoring how much he had liked having her there. He couldn’t help a small smile as he replayed the kiss she gave him when she thought he was sleeping. Catching himself too late, he hastily rearranged his features into their usual mask of contempt.
“Yeah, and if you think that gossip is juicy, well, I’ve got tales that would make your head spin. I mean, if you wanted to grab a beer or something, no big deal.” He tried to inject his usual bored tone into the subtle invitation, too fragile to risk outright rejection.
Wilson had known there would be no fanfare--just one day something would click and they’d be ready to get back to their friendship. If that something was a cold Bud and gossip about their boss, then so be it. He might never get over Amber, but with distance he could see that House hadn’t killed her, and had risked his own life not for her, but for Wilson.
“Sure, should I grab a six-pack and head for your place?”
As expected, the ease of Wilson’s assent had startled House, but the older man covered his shock well. With a shrug, he accepted the plan, as though there had never been a problem between them.
Hours later, as the second six-pack emptied, the two friends regarded each other in the dim light of House’s living room.
“Cuddy kissed someone… and that someone was… you? But she also has this guy, this professor who is definitely not you. So, to sum up, Cuddy kissed you, and at least one other man that we know about.”
Wilson was slurring slightly by that point, resigning himself to a night on House’s lumpy sofa.
“Yep, our wicked mistress is as insatiable as we thought – one man can never be enough for her unnatural desires.”
House had draped himself across the lounger, eyes heavy-lidded from the buzz of the beer and exhaustion. It was a relief to have Wilson here, to say things out loud rather than churning them over in his own head every minute of the day. His peaceful reverie was interrupted by Wilson’s incessant babbling.
“What I find really funny though, is that you’ve only told me, like in some sort of…confidence. The way you normally talk about Cuddy, this kind of ammo should have you parading in front of her office singing ‘House and Cuddy sitting in a tree…’ Or at the very least, printing posters to tell the whole hospital.”
“House, do you like her?”
“Jimmy boy, has that ever worked? I mean, seriously, you come up with some half-baked theory and try to trick me into confirming it with a direct question. Hardly the work of a master, my friend.”
Wilson sincerely enjoyed wiping away the smug smirk that had just appeared on his friend’s face.
“That’s where you’re wrong, old buddy. Your non-answer, your refusal to even address the question, tells me all I need to know. Not to mention that you tensed up so quickly at the very idea that I think you may have pulled some muscles in your back. You have got it bad, and there’s nothing you can say to deny it.”
Maybe it was the beer, or the willingness to concede one little point to aid their healing relationship, but House made no effort to contradict him.
“Doesn’t matter, she has a boyfriend.”
Wilson snorted, almost inhaling his last mouthful of beer.
“Like that ever stopped you.”
Chapter 10
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2008-09-01 05:25 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 08:12 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 08:13 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 05:40 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 08:11 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 06:04 pm (UTC)well know I wait for Cuddy's turn :D
awesome job
no subject
on 2008-09-01 08:08 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 07:56 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 08:08 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 08:20 pm (UTC)like that ever stopped you??? so...It is no new at all, or it is not new when dealing with Cuddy??
well, at last Cuddy got some funny moments...GO CUDDY GO!
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on 2008-09-01 11:27 pm (UTC)House without Wilson makes me sad, I had to try and fix them ;)
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on 2008-09-01 08:31 pm (UTC)Can't wait to see where this goes!
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on 2008-09-01 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 09:52 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 11:31 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 10:41 pm (UTC)My favourite though, is the last part with H&W talking about Cuddy and how House basically admitted he liked her. And the "Like that ever stopped you." is SUCH a nice foreshadowing. xD I can't wait until you update!
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on 2008-09-01 11:32 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-01 11:17 pm (UTC)I particulary enjoyed the scene between House and Wilson, and the way House acknowledge that he has somehow "a thing" for Cuddy. That's perfectly done ... Really Nice work. And it's perfect with the song too.
Zach is just the kind of "perfect boyfriend" that I couldn't stand if I ever decided to date men but, (and this will sound strange using it to describe an OC) he ins't OOC. In a few chapters you've managed to give hime some reality (ahem fictional reality if that's make any sense xD) and he is not OOC reffering to it ...
I'm really looking forward to read next chapters (my favorite lines of "No Children" are in the end too ...). It gives one little reason to wish to be tomorrow or even the day after ... because I'm moving to Belgium in a few days and I will appreciate not doing it so soon.
Ok ... I'm gonna stop talking about my life, it must be boring.
I'm still French, I'm still not sure about my English.
And I really love this story.
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on 2008-09-01 11:36 pm (UTC)The best lines are yet to come, and let's just say I'm having a lot of fun writing the chapters around them :) There should be another chapter or two in the next couple of days, I'm frantically editing them now!
Your English is great, I'm always impressed because I think it's such a complicated, unstructured language. I forget how lucky I am to be a native speaker, because it seems one of the hardest languages to learn! Your life is not at all boring, are you looking forward to moving? I've been to Brussels a couple of times (so easy on the Eurostar) and really enjoyed myself there.
So glad you like the story, and I'm very, very grateful that you took the time and effort to share your thoughts about it. xx
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on 2008-09-02 05:25 am (UTC)Yay for Cuddy getting some! *throws streamers*
PS-I see that you're already writing the next chapter, but I just have to share this persistent plot bunny that I wish you could put to good use, because I'm *headdesk* not allowed to write fanfic this semester. Anyway: House secretly sends Cuddy flowers that are labeled "from" her boyfriend--mainly to create confusion in their relationship. But then he watches her smell, touch,--enjoy--the flowers, and it makes him bitter-sweetly happy. How often do we get to see Cuddy just aesthetically appreciating little gestures? Not nearly enough! And then Cuddy looks up and catches him watching her with that expression on his face . . . . Sorry for the plot synopsis, but it was driving me mad, rattling around inside my head. *closes door quietly*
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on 2008-09-02 07:18 pm (UTC)I love your icon - especially fitting here!!
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on 2008-09-04 04:46 pm (UTC)I hope that means it will seem very in character for them. I always enjoy reading your Huddy precisely because it is completely IC. But not in a "lets-just-repeat-what-happened-in-canon" kind of way. Your situations are new, therefore the characters grow. If they end up differing from their original selves, so much the better. I think both House and Cuddy are Walt Whitman's kind of characters:
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
I will serve as the "OOC" police. You pretty much have a free pass to do what you will with Huddy, and I'll believe it. Cause I know OOC when I see it, and it drives me insane. And this fic, does not drive me insane. :D
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on 2008-09-04 05:27 pm (UTC)I'm very grateful that you're the OOC police - let's hope no crimes have been committed in the newly posted chapter 10.
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on 2008-09-04 05:32 pm (UTC)