Shoe Etiquette
Title: Shoe Etiquette
Author: cielo_claro
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: House/Wilson, implied.
Spoiler warnings for Joy to the World and Painless.
Alternate Universe: Wilson adopts Cuddy’s baby and House tags along for the ride.
Summary: Set at Rachel’s third birthday, Cuddy tries to figure out how she will fit into Rachel’s life.
Shoe Etiquette
What’s the shoe etiquette for a child’s third birthday party? When Cuddy looked in the mirror this morning her Kate Spade heels had seemed almost sensible, even festive. Now she was wondering why she didn’t just make a stop at Macy’s when she had the chance and buy herself a pair of practical flats.
From her perch at the breakfast bar Cuddy could see Cameron, in a warm looking pair of fur boots, chatting up a delighted Blythe House, who opted for a pair of flats herself. And Thirteen, of course with Foreman, looking on while Kutner mastered another level of Grand Theft Auto, or whatever it is they were playing now. Birkenstocks, she took note. She could have worn those. At least then she wouldn’t be wobbling on the thick carpet, trying not to break her neck over children’s toys.
Wilson had forsaken his Italian loafers these days for a pair of thick, wool socks. His black dress pants and khakis had morphed into dark blue jeans that looked a little too expensive to be considered casual, and his socks had found a friend in a well worn McGill sweatshirt. But what he lacked in fashion, he also made up for in something else. A glow she wanted to call “fatherhood.”
Watching him with the baby (no longer a baby) Cuddy wondered why she was even here. She’d done her civic duty, scribbled her name in a generic Hallmark card and included a $25 Toys R Us gift card. Anything from that point forward was just masochism.
House was there too, of course. But this wasn’t the House she knew. The House she knew who would’ve spend the afternoon hoarding the television, drinking a six pack and waving his cane at social interaction. Like Wilson, he had heard the call of a deep, mysterious paternity, the likes of which she had never seen. The baby (toddler now) balanced on his hip as he laughed at one of Wilson’s clinic stories.
And though the two were in a crowd, for a brief flash of time she could see a certain light between the two. A look, a vibe, just a glance and suddenly Cuddy felt like she’d walked in on something private.
It was entirely possibly she supposed, throwing manners aside as she poured herself a full glass of red wine, after all they’d been living together ever since Wilson had adopted. They’d never said, no, but why would two doctors with six figure incomes (oh she would know, she signed the checks) voluntarily decide to be roommates?
They were all laughing now, and Wilson was dashing past her into the kitchen. It must be time for cake, since god knows Wilson would never go out and buy a cake for his daughter’s third birthday.
Seeing the group congregate towards the dining room Cuddy decided now was as good a time as any to leave. Kate Spades in hand she made a break for the door, making sure to drain her wine glass completely before setting it on the coffee table. Chase’s laugh ricocheted down the hall and choruses of off-key “happy birthday” began. And annoying, nasally voice broke in with “feliz cumpleaños.”
Feeling the cold bite of new snow on her feet, Cuddy promised herself next year she’d buy those flats.
Author: cielo_claro
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: House/Wilson, implied.
Spoiler warnings for Joy to the World and Painless.
Alternate Universe: Wilson adopts Cuddy’s baby and House tags along for the ride.
Summary: Set at Rachel’s third birthday, Cuddy tries to figure out how she will fit into Rachel’s life.
Shoe Etiquette
What’s the shoe etiquette for a child’s third birthday party? When Cuddy looked in the mirror this morning her Kate Spade heels had seemed almost sensible, even festive. Now she was wondering why she didn’t just make a stop at Macy’s when she had the chance and buy herself a pair of practical flats.
From her perch at the breakfast bar Cuddy could see Cameron, in a warm looking pair of fur boots, chatting up a delighted Blythe House, who opted for a pair of flats herself. And Thirteen, of course with Foreman, looking on while Kutner mastered another level of Grand Theft Auto, or whatever it is they were playing now. Birkenstocks, she took note. She could have worn those. At least then she wouldn’t be wobbling on the thick carpet, trying not to break her neck over children’s toys.
Wilson had forsaken his Italian loafers these days for a pair of thick, wool socks. His black dress pants and khakis had morphed into dark blue jeans that looked a little too expensive to be considered casual, and his socks had found a friend in a well worn McGill sweatshirt. But what he lacked in fashion, he also made up for in something else. A glow she wanted to call “fatherhood.”
Watching him with the baby (no longer a baby) Cuddy wondered why she was even here. She’d done her civic duty, scribbled her name in a generic Hallmark card and included a $25 Toys R Us gift card. Anything from that point forward was just masochism.
House was there too, of course. But this wasn’t the House she knew. The House she knew who would’ve spend the afternoon hoarding the television, drinking a six pack and waving his cane at social interaction. Like Wilson, he had heard the call of a deep, mysterious paternity, the likes of which she had never seen. The baby (toddler now) balanced on his hip as he laughed at one of Wilson’s clinic stories.
And though the two were in a crowd, for a brief flash of time she could see a certain light between the two. A look, a vibe, just a glance and suddenly Cuddy felt like she’d walked in on something private.
It was entirely possibly she supposed, throwing manners aside as she poured herself a full glass of red wine, after all they’d been living together ever since Wilson had adopted. They’d never said, no, but why would two doctors with six figure incomes (oh she would know, she signed the checks) voluntarily decide to be roommates?
They were all laughing now, and Wilson was dashing past her into the kitchen. It must be time for cake, since god knows Wilson would never go out and buy a cake for his daughter’s third birthday.
Seeing the group congregate towards the dining room Cuddy decided now was as good a time as any to leave. Kate Spades in hand she made a break for the door, making sure to drain her wine glass completely before setting it on the coffee table. Chase’s laugh ricocheted down the hall and choruses of off-key “happy birthday” began. And annoying, nasally voice broke in with “feliz cumpleaños.”
Feeling the cold bite of new snow on her feet, Cuddy promised herself next year she’d buy those flats.