Cuddy sighed as she reached for another file, this one at the very back of the drawer. Naturally, these files were also in the bottom drawer of the file cabinet. She'd started out by bending over but that was hell on her back so she'd lowered herself rather gracelessly to her knees. Finally she'd given up and settled her ass on the floor, sitting crosslegged as she sorted through the files. It was a good thing she pretty much always wore pants these days because she could never have done this in a skirt.
"Dr. Cuddy? Are you all right?"
She glanced over her shoulder at the door of her office where Chase was standing, a worried expression on his face. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I looked in and saw you on the floor. I thought...." Chase walked over to the stacks of files surrounding her. "Why didn't you have your assistant pull the files?"
"Didn't know which ones I'd need," Cuddy said. She held up the latest file, waving it at Chase before she tossed it on the discard stack. "These regulations haven't been in effect for ten years. Why is it still here?"
"You're...sorting out your file cabinets?" Chase asked, baffled.
"They obviously need it." Cuddy pulled out another thick file held together with rubber bands. She didn't know exactly what had possessed her to sort the files. As always she had plenty of other work to do. She hadn't even started out with the intention of weeding out the useless files but she'd opened the drawer to retrieve one she needed and it had struck her how full and messy they were. Next thing she knew, she was on the floor, sorting out the deadwood.
"Okay," Chase said, looking somewhat bemused. He nodded at the stacks around her. "Would you like me to set those on the couch for you? It would surely be easier than sitting on the floor."
"I'm...fine," Cuddy said, distracted when the phone began to ring. Not her cell phone, which she'd smartly brought with her on her file-weeding adventure, in case of emergency. No, it was her desk phone and it was going to take her a moment or two to get back on her feet. She waved impatiently at her desk. "Bring it here, please."
Chase strode over and grabbed the entire phone from her desk. He turned back toward her and got pulled up short. "The cord's too short."
"Well, answer it then," she said sharply as it continued to ring. She shifted around awkwardly to her hands and knees while Chase dropped the phone back on the desk and grabbed the receiver. She glanced up just in time to see a rather odd look on Chase's face.
"Er...House?"
Cuddy waved frantically at Chase. She'd been half afraid something would happen, some kind of set-back, and House wouldn't be allowed to leave the hospital as scheduled. She'd tried desperately all day not to think about it too much just in case the plans got changed. But if House was calling, he must be home. If he'd been kept in the hospital, it would be Wilson giving her the bad news.
"Hang on," Chase said into the phone. He left the receiver lying on the desk and hurried over to Cuddy. She'd just about gotten her feet under her when Chase gripped her arms and pulled her upright. She was a little surprised. She wouldn't have thought his skinny arms were strong enough to lift a ton of pregnant woman. She spared only a second for that thought, though, and waddled to the desk as quickly as she could.
"House?" she said into the phone, sounding breathless.
Expecting to hear Cuddy, House frowned at the masculine voice. The immediate response he had was horror, that he'd dialled the wrong number. Then he was hit with even more horror when he realised it was Chase on the end of the line. Oh god. He opened his mouth to demand, 'What the hell are you doing there?' but quickly changed his mind and replied to cover up his discomposure, "Wow, Cuddy. Living a double life now?"
He didn't know why Chase of all people was answering Cuddy's phone. It was very unlike Cuddy to have someone else answering, unless an assistant was filling in for her or the times he hijacked her desk at work and answered the phone, knowing full well she'd be horrified at the possible things he might say to the person on the other end.
"So..." he prompted Chase for an explanation. Instead, he got an earful of the phone on the other end being set down and some shuffling noises going on in the background. His frown deepened in confusion. What was going on? Why would Chase be in her office? More to the point, why was he answering her phone? And even more to the point, why was it taking so long for Cuddy to get to the phone, if that was what Chase had told him to 'hang on' for.
After several bemusing moments, he heard the sound of the receiver being picked up, and it was Cuddy this time. But all colour drained from House's face at the sound of her voice, how breathless she sounded. His eyes widened and a sharp twist of almost nauseating fear gripped his stomach. Oh shit. Was Cuddy in labour? Was that why Chase was in her office? He was so struck with mortal fear that his head suddenly felt a bit dizzy, and for a moment he thought he might pass out.
"Cuddy?" he replied, his voice taking on a sudden tight and urgent tone, and he started to babble out of sheer terror that this was The Moment he'd been gearing himself up for, for the last almost nine months. "Wh... what's going on? What's happening? Why's Chase there? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Cuddy said, still trying to catch her breath. She kept the receiver pressed to her ear as she tried to walk around her desk without the phone cord pulling everything to the floor. She finally reached her chair and plopped down and took a deep breath.
"I was on the floor going through some files and I couldn't get to the phone. And Dr. Chase is here because...I don't know. I guess he thought I'd collapsed." She glanced up and saw Chase still standing there, a curious look on his face. She gave him a little wave that was an unmistakeable dismissal. He got a look of sly amusement on his face but he shrugged and headed toward the door.
"So...," she continued once Chase was gone. She leaned forward and grabbed up a folder from the corner of her desk. She used it to fan her face, feeling hot and sweaty after her struggle to reach the phone. "Are you all settled back in at home?"
House was so caught up in mind-numbing terror that he didn't register Cuddy's answer at first. Everything was racing through his brain at once - he needed to get to the hospital and fast, what was he going to need to take, was he going to have to stop by Cuddy's place to grab stuff for her, what the hell was he going to see when he got to the hospital, why couldn't the kid stay incubated in Cuddy's womb for another nine months because this was too soon, much too soon, oh fuck. Fear and anxiety was crawling all over in his skin in the form of a hot flush while his extremities began tingling from his rapid heart rate flooding his veins with adrenalin.
But for some reason, Cuddy wasn't mentioning labour over the phone. She was talking about... organising files? Being on the floor and not being able to get up? Wanting to know if he was okay? Cuddy wasn't in labour, he realised. A new wave of adrenalin rushed through him, this time in the form of relief so strong he felt even more light-headed than ever. He needed to sit down, right now, before his legs gave way under the panic he'd just experienced.
"Jesus Christ," he uttered weakly. He rubbed his hand over his face and swallowed, and he limped over to the couch to sit down with a heavy slump. "Just got back now," he answered her.
He dropped his head back to the couch. God, he needed a few minutes to regroup himself. Or maybe a really, really stiff drink to calm his nerves. What a homecoming. Barely five minutes through the door and faced with the unexpected possibility that Cuddy was in labour right now. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, willing himself to calm down now he had no reason to be in a panic. If this is what a false alarm felt like, how on earth was he going to be when the actual moment came?
"I feel like I just got punk'd by an unborn baby," he admitted, sounding a little calmer.
Cuddy frowned as she sat fanning her face. It took her a moment to pick up on House's train of thought and realize what he meant by getting punked.
"You thought I was in labor?" she asked with a laugh. "I wish, but it's nothing that momentous. Just me doing paperwork and Chase looking for brownie points. Or looking to snoop. Probably both."
She let out another soft chuckle and imagined the look on House's face from the tone of his voice. It would seem logical that a doctor would not freak out over a woman going into labor, even if the baby was his. Some excitement and nervousness would be normal but not freaking out. From the sound of House's voice, though, she got the impression he'd gotten quite a shock, which surprised her. She knew he was uneasy about becoming a father but she really hadn't expected him to be so anxious about the actual birth.
"Are you going to be okay or do I need to send an ambulance over?" she asked in an amused tone. For herself, she was ready to get this baby born, at least physically. It seemed as though every day she was stretched to the bursting point and there was a new ache and she was less able to keep going. She still had some psychological concerns, centered mostly around House and his issues and how they were going to save their relationship but her body was definitely ready to be done with this. For the moment, though, Junior was hanging tight.
"I suppose we can consider this a rehearsal," she suggested, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she leaned back in her chair. She got a mischievous look on her face which she didn't bother to hide since he couldn't see her. "Maybe I should give you a few more rehearsals. That way, when it's for real, you won't be so shocked."
He didn't think it was funny, although he let out a humourous snort of relief anyway when Cuddy did. "I'd go with both," he agreed.
Boy, he was starting to feel stupid for getting so uptight. He hadn't been able to help it, though. And he also hadn't realised just how nervous he was about the birth until he'd gotten that fright. Or maybe he was just nervous because he'd barely had any time to get his bearings after returning home from the hospital. Yeah, that made sense, he thought to himself. He wanted some time to relax at home, to enjoy his freedom and enjoy it before his life was thrown for another life-changing loop.
He snorted again when Cuddy asked if he needed an ambulance. "No, I'm fine. I'll just do CPR on myself, though I might need a hand... or well, a mouth, for the mouth-to-mouth part. Think I'll volunteer you for that job."
Lifting an arm, he draped it over his eyes while his adrenalin rate steadily lowered back to normal. "Yeah, that's a great idea," he replied sarcastically. "Who needs Aesop telling us fables about boys crying wolf when you can have the Braxton-Hicks version of Junior's Imperial March into the world?"
If Cuddy had wanted a rehearsal, she'd certainly just given him one just now. Maybe next time, however, he wouldn't slip so hard and fast into panic mode. Maybe next time, he'd be able to actually respond coherently instead of freezing in terror.
"Well, now that I've had an exciting welcome home," he said, dropping his hand back to his lap, "how's life? Besides beach whaling it around your office."
"I hope you've got a backup plan," Cuddy chuckled when he nominated her for mouth to mouth duty. "It might take me a while to waddle across town."
She could hear the distinct lack of enthusiasm for more rehearsals in his voice. The idea would never have occurred to her--not seriously--because it had never occurred to her he would be so anxious. It made sense for her to have some nervousness about the process of giving birth. After all, it was her body that would have to endure what could be a very difficult and even dangerous process. He just had to be there--no pain, no risk. Apparently that was enough to send his nerves on high alert, though, so maybe a few rehearsals wouldn't be a bad idea.
"I'm doing my usual paper shuffling and pencil pushing." She sat forward and set her makeshift fan back on the desk with the other folders. "I'm doing it more slowly than usual but I'm doing it. Which is apparently very disappointing to the staff who'd bet on me delivering before now." She shifted the phone to her other ear and settled back in her chair again, rubbing her hand over the mountain of her belly.
"What about you? Got the party started yet? Called the strippers? Installed the disco ball? Got Wilson drunk enough to lose his pants?"
"That's because they're all hanging out for the day the Iron Lady of Princeton Plainsboro is dethroned," he joked about the staff betting on Cuddy delivering before now. "What better way to overthrow the Cuddyist junta than you going into explosion mode."
He shut his eyes, willing the last vestiges of nerves to dissipate. He was okay, he assured himself. Cuddy was okay. There was no threat of babies squirming their way out of vaginas just yet. And just as well. He may have gotten more stablised while he was in hospital but he wasn't quite ready to go panic jiving around the room and around a labour ward due to Junior deciding the time was nigh.
Opening his eyes again, he let out a quiet, calming sigh. With the threat of childbirth put on hold, he could try to focus on enjoying being back home again, home for good. "Oh, absolutely," he agreed mock seriously. "The strippers are set to go, the disco ball's already cranking up the revolutions and Wilson drove me home without his pants on. The only thing missing now is the party guests."
Which brought him to his next point. "Do you want to waddle on over to the party tonight after work? Or should I ditch the party and limp over to your place?"
"They shouldn't get their hopes up too high. It's a temporary dethroning at best."
She didn't believe most of her employees would truly want her gone for good. She knew she wasn't everyone's favorite boss but she wasn't evil either, House's assertions to the contrary. There were a few, of course, who didn't like her for one reason or another. She wasn't bothered by that. No one, especially not a boss, was universally loved. She did a good job, though, and she did look out for her employees and she thought they understood that at the end of the day. Of course, that didn't mean they wouldn't mind a vacation from her.
She smiled to herself when he claimed he was partying down at home, and especially at the notion of Wilson driving without his pants. It was nice to hear House being relaxed and joking around. Before he went into the hospital his demons had gotten pretty intense. That wasn't to say he'd lost the ability to have fun but it had definitely gotten harder for him to relax enough to be silly. Harder for her as well because there had always been a certain level of tension, an anticipation of bad things, that kept her from relaxing.
"Do you mind if we stay at my place?" she asked. It was getting so hard for her to get comfortable, especially at night, that she really wanted to be where she could be as comfortable as possible. She had a mountain of pillows arranged in her bed, she had her rocking chair for when bed didn't work, and she had her little pregnancy craving snacks. She felt better at home.
"My house is more pregnancy-friendly," she said. "Besides, if Junior does decide to make his grand entrance, my bag's at home."
Staying at Cuddy's place for the purpose of waiting on tenterhooks for Junior's arrival wasn't exactly House's idea of relaxing. Then again, with Cuddy at 38 weeks gestation, he was going to be on permanent tenterhooks anyway.
He wasn't sure what 'pregnancy-friendly' meant but between being glad to be out of Mayfield hellhole and Cuddy needing to be as comfortable as possible, he was willing to compromise to stay at her place. Besides, he liked it at her place - it had become his home away from home.
"Oh fine, if we really have to," he said with a dramatic, faux exasperated sigh. "You're such a party pooper. I'm going to have to lug this disco ball and all the strippers across town now."
Staying at Cuddy's place was probably going to be a good thing, though. While he was glad to be home, being out of sorts from having gone from institutionalised life in the hospital back to living carte blanche was going to take some getting used to. The weekend home he'd had helped but he'd known that he was going to be returning to the hospital. At least if he stayed at Cuddy's place, he had more chances of distraction and not being so aware of himself and the lack of routine.
"Well, it's..." He glanced at his watch. "Just after two. I guess I'll pack up the party now and gatecrash your place with the strippers for when you get home."
"It's what I live for--pooping your parties," Cuddy said glibly. In some ways that was true. She spent a great deal of her time at work putting the brakes on his crazy 'parties.' That actually was the sum of her job as it related to House. Most of her job--as it related to everything else-- was making sure the gears kept turning, applying grease when needed. But with him, her job was to keep a lid on his extreme sports approach to medicine.
She glanced down at her hand resting on her belly, checking her watch when he mentioned the time. Then she looked at her day planner and sighed. How had she let herself get distracted with the outdated files in the bottom cabinet drawers? She'd only made more work for herself while avoiding the work she already had to do.
"Okay," she said finally, quickly prioritizing tasks in her mind. "I've got...ugh, probably a couple more hours of work to do. I'll definitely be home before five, though. Can you entertain yourself until then?" She paused. Giving him free rein to entertain himself was generally not a great idea. Heaven only knew what he'd decide was entertaining. She certainly couldn't predict where his whims would take him.
"And by entertain yourself I don't mean going through all my drawers," she added. "Or doing anything illegal, unethical, or immoral." That ought to cover it. At the least, it ought to guarantee her house would still be standing when she got there. "And yes, that's more party-poopery. As I said, it's what I live for."
About to reply that her house was an endless possibility of entertainment because of some of the unexplored nooks and crannies around the place that he had yet to delve into, Cuddy interrupted him with a warning not to do anything of that exact nature. "Aww, but Mom," he whined.
Considering it was only mid-afternoon, he doubted he'd remain entertained her place on his own anyway, if he had to wait around for a couple of hours. He shrugged. "Oh, well. That's alright," he continued conversationally. "With a couple of hours to kill and my re-established freedom, I might head out for a bit first. To do... whatever."
Eat some junkfood, maybe go to the betting agency, do whatever he pleased now he had the freedom to do so. "Actually, I might do that now," he decided. "Stir some mischief up around town and be back home in time for dinner." Shifting to the edge of the couch, he added, "I'll see you tonight."
Once he said goodbye to Cuddy, the first thing he did was have a shower, to freshen up and wash away the smell of the hospital from his skin. He got dressed, didn't bother neatening his hair or getting rid of the stubble that had grown back since he'd shaved on the weekend, and grabbed his suitcase that he'd brought home from the hospital. There were a couple of clean things in there; the rest of the stuff needed to be washed and he figured he might as well do his laundry at Cuddy's. With that, he grabbed his keys, locked up and was out the door to his car.
He didn't go straight to Cuddy's place, though. Like he'd said on the phone, he decided to head out for a bit first, just to be out and about. Parked up on the main street, he wandered down the street at a leisurely pace, so incredibly glad to be out of Mayfield. All sorts of scrumptious smells hit his nose as he passed different cafes and food shops, making his stomach rumble. He really wanted something fatty and greasy, like a burger and fries. Stopping at a burger joint on the corner of the main street, he ducked inside and ordered himself a large burger and fries meal with a large soda. He tucked right into the food, hungrily scoffing down everything, and he was more than full by the time his plate was empty. He took his soda with him once he paid for his meal and returned to the street to continue ambling.
His intention was to head for the betting agency but as he slurped on his soda, a novelty store caught his eye with the huge range of gags and unusual gifts displayed in the window. He stopped to peruse and it suddenly dawned on him when his eyes landed on a gag birthday figurine in the shape of a penis: it was Cuddy's birthday at the end of the month. Right around the time the baby was due to be born. Oh, hell. Two birthdays at once. Well, a baby was a good enough gift for a birthday, he thought to himself. But even as he did, he wandered into the store, curious to see what else was in there. The gags and joke gifts were his kind of immature humour, anyhow.
House browsed for a while, examining different figurines, adult board games, aprons with plastic boobs on the front, novelty dog poo and baby vomit, all sorts of merchandise which had him amused for the whole time he looked around. After a while, though, he started to get a couple of ideas and soon he took up a shopping basket and began selecting a few different things to drop into it. Almost an hour had passed by the time he planted the basket on the counter, full of different goodies. The shop assistant bagged all his purchases and House paid for the lot, then stumbled out onto the street laden with plastic bags. Returning to his car, he dumped it all in the trunk, made one more stop at another store several doors down and came back to the car to put a helium tank he'd hired into the back seat, and then he climbed in to drive to Cuddy's place.
Maybe Cuddy would have a fit once she found out what he was doing: when he'd reached her house and carried everything inside, he started blowing up a heap of large balloons with the helium tank and let them float to the ceiling. He'd purchased five big bags of balloons; soon, her entire living room ceiling was bursting with balloons bobbing amongst themselves, some of which had escaped out into the hall and were bobbing along that ceiling. Well, he'd said to Cuddy that he was having a party - not that he'd planned any of this, though. His purchases at the store had been completely impulsive.
All the other things he'd bought were still in the plastic bags he'd dumped on her couch, forgotten for now. They were forgotten because he was busily changing his shirt into a new red t-shirt he'd bought just because he liked it, and was then fitting two cans of soda he'd also bought into the holders of a beer cap. He popped the cap on his head and sipped the soda while he rummaged around in the bags for something else - a remote control monster truck, which he spent several minutes fitting batteries into both the truck itself and the remote control.
He experimented with it at first once it was set up, guiding it around the living room with the controls. Very quickly, his face took on that of an excited kid as he rammed the monster truck into Cuddy's furniture. Bored with just steering it around the room, he got up from where he was sitting on the couch and followed the monster truck out into the hall and across to the dining room, making the truck do wheelies and tipping around sharp bends and doing slalom around the dining room chair legs. All the while, he was sipping on his drinks from the cap he was wearing on his head.
He was so caught up in what he was doing that he didn't hear the front door open or see Cuddy enter. He was steering the monster truck at full pelt from the dining room out to the front hall, limping out after it quickly, and he excitedly made a loud revving sound in imitation of a monster truck engine as he spun the truck into a donut spin.
"Yeah, okay...." Cuddy sighed, shaking her head at the phone. "Just don't get arrested."
Was she really worried he'd end up in jail? Well, it never paid to bet against House doing something stupid and self-destructive. Right then, he was like a prisoner just released from the big house and the intoxicating feel of freedom could spur him into doing something crazy. Probably not, but it wasn't entirely out of the question. She just had to hope his meds had enough of a calming effect on him that he wouldn't feel compelled to do something dangerous.
She repeated her promise to be home by five and said good-bye. As she returned the receiver to its cradle, Chase gave a quick tap on her office door and stepped back in. She leaned back in her chair, regarding him with a suspicious look.
"So...House is home?" he asked.
"Apparently."
"All finished with his treatment then?" Chase persisted.
Cuddy's eyes narrowed. She'd told House's team he was receiving some follow-up treatment for the shooting, implying it was physical treatment. Chase obviously had his suspicions about that story and he was fishing for more information. "He's finished his inpatient treatment. He'll be continuing with some outpatient therapy."
"So he'll be back to work...?"
"When his doctor releases him to return to work." Cuddy gave him a pointed look. She understood his curiosity and he certainly had a right to want to know when his boss would be back to terrorize the team but it didn't outweigh House's right to privacy. "I appreciate your help earlier, but I'm sure you have better things to do. And if you don't, I can certainly find something for you to do."
"Fine, fine," Chase said, an easy grin on his face as he reached for the doorknob. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
She watched Chase long enough to be sure he was really headed out of the area, then she lowered her gaze to her desk. If she intended to make good on her promise to be home by a reasonable hour, she needed to ignore distractions like Chase and concentrate on her work.
For the next couple of hours, that's exactly what she did. Except for the all too frequent trips to the bathroom, she stayed at her desk and plowed through the never-ending list of requests and requirements that came through her office. In a way, she supposed she should be glad it was never-ending--it was a sort of job security--but some days she'd like to take the whole pile and burn it.
She kept her focus well enough that by quarter after four, she'd completed everything she'd deemed necessary. Once she reached the end of her 'must-do' list, she logged off her computer and closed up her office for the day. Because she was earlier than normal, she didn't have as much traffic to contend with and she arrived home well before her self-imposed deadline.
House's car was parked outside and there wasn't a single policeman in sight. She considered that a good omen and she made a beeline for the front door, her briefcase in hand. She started to call out for him as she opened the door but she stopped in confusion when she saw some balloons drifting along the ceiling of the hall. Before she could process that, an annoying buzzing sound grew louder and an RC monster truck came barreling out of the dining room, followed by its owner.
"House? What...?" She waved at the balloons and the truck, completely confused.
House looked up in surprise at Cuddy. Did she just arrive home? If she had, he hadn't been paying any attention. The surprise only lasted a second or two, though. He glanced up at the balloons adrift along the ceiling, shrugged and replied, "They followed me home."
His attention returned to the RC toy. With excited concentration, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, he directed the truck across the hall where it bashed into the wall. He reversed it, made it face the other way with a sharp turn and pushed the stick on the remote control to make the truck zip across the floor to the other wall with another loud thump.
He slurped loudly on his beer cap drinks while spinning the truck back to the centre of the room, making all kinds of car noises like a little kid playing with his toy cars. "It's Monster Jam!" he announced in a growly, monster truck commentator's voice. "Coming to you live from Cuddy's Front Hall Arena. Watch that airborn!"
Clipping the wheels against the skirting board and sent the truck jumping into the air a little before thumping back to the floor. The truck zipped and zigzagged at full speed and when he spun it around again to face the other way, he gunned the truck right in the direction of Cuddy's feet. "Grave Digger's about to attempt it's biggest enemy yet, Lisa Cuddy herself...!"
Cuddy stared at House and his party accessories. He hadn't brought the strippers with him--as far as she knew--but he was clearly ready to have a good time. He had his party hat on and his balloons and that annoying truck.
She put her foot on top of the truck as it raced at her. She didn't damage it; she merely prevented it from going anywhere. "Grave Digger comes after me and he'll be digging his own grave," she warned before releasing the truck and stepping around it. She set her briefcase on the floor, propped against the wall and walked to him. "Nice shirt," she said dryly, leaning in for a kiss, one hand pressed against his chest. She patted her hand against the lovely illustration on his shirt, then continued into the living room...where there were even more balloons.
She shook her head in amazement. He was such a child sometimes. Still, this was relatively minor trouble-making. And it was probably the type she should get used to because she could imagine it was exactly the kind of trouble-making he and Junior would get up to at every opportunity.
"You forgot the disco ball," she said, looking around for any other signs of partying.
"Dr. Cuddy? Are you all right?"
She glanced over her shoulder at the door of her office where Chase was standing, a worried expression on his face. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I looked in and saw you on the floor. I thought...." Chase walked over to the stacks of files surrounding her. "Why didn't you have your assistant pull the files?"
"Didn't know which ones I'd need," Cuddy said. She held up the latest file, waving it at Chase before she tossed it on the discard stack. "These regulations haven't been in effect for ten years. Why is it still here?"
"You're...sorting out your file cabinets?" Chase asked, baffled.
"They obviously need it." Cuddy pulled out another thick file held together with rubber bands. She didn't know exactly what had possessed her to sort the files. As always she had plenty of other work to do. She hadn't even started out with the intention of weeding out the useless files but she'd opened the drawer to retrieve one she needed and it had struck her how full and messy they were. Next thing she knew, she was on the floor, sorting out the deadwood.
"Okay," Chase said, looking somewhat bemused. He nodded at the stacks around her. "Would you like me to set those on the couch for you? It would surely be easier than sitting on the floor."
"I'm...fine," Cuddy said, distracted when the phone began to ring. Not her cell phone, which she'd smartly brought with her on her file-weeding adventure, in case of emergency. No, it was her desk phone and it was going to take her a moment or two to get back on her feet. She waved impatiently at her desk. "Bring it here, please."
Chase strode over and grabbed the entire phone from her desk. He turned back toward her and got pulled up short. "The cord's too short."
"Well, answer it then," she said sharply as it continued to ring. She shifted around awkwardly to her hands and knees while Chase dropped the phone back on the desk and grabbed the receiver. She glanced up just in time to see a rather odd look on Chase's face.
"Er...House?"
Cuddy waved frantically at Chase. She'd been half afraid something would happen, some kind of set-back, and House wouldn't be allowed to leave the hospital as scheduled. She'd tried desperately all day not to think about it too much just in case the plans got changed. But if House was calling, he must be home. If he'd been kept in the hospital, it would be Wilson giving her the bad news.
"Hang on," Chase said into the phone. He left the receiver lying on the desk and hurried over to Cuddy. She'd just about gotten her feet under her when Chase gripped her arms and pulled her upright. She was a little surprised. She wouldn't have thought his skinny arms were strong enough to lift a ton of pregnant woman. She spared only a second for that thought, though, and waddled to the desk as quickly as she could.
"House?" she said into the phone, sounding breathless.
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He didn't know why Chase of all people was answering Cuddy's phone. It was very unlike Cuddy to have someone else answering, unless an assistant was filling in for her or the times he hijacked her desk at work and answered the phone, knowing full well she'd be horrified at the possible things he might say to the person on the other end.
"So..." he prompted Chase for an explanation. Instead, he got an earful of the phone on the other end being set down and some shuffling noises going on in the background. His frown deepened in confusion. What was going on? Why would Chase be in her office? More to the point, why was he answering her phone? And even more to the point, why was it taking so long for Cuddy to get to the phone, if that was what Chase had told him to 'hang on' for.
After several bemusing moments, he heard the sound of the receiver being picked up, and it was Cuddy this time. But all colour drained from House's face at the sound of her voice, how breathless she sounded. His eyes widened and a sharp twist of almost nauseating fear gripped his stomach. Oh shit. Was Cuddy in labour? Was that why Chase was in her office? He was so struck with mortal fear that his head suddenly felt a bit dizzy, and for a moment he thought he might pass out.
"Cuddy?" he replied, his voice taking on a sudden tight and urgent tone, and he started to babble out of sheer terror that this was The Moment he'd been gearing himself up for, for the last almost nine months. "Wh... what's going on? What's happening? Why's Chase there? Are you okay?"
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"I was on the floor going through some files and I couldn't get to the phone. And Dr. Chase is here because...I don't know. I guess he thought I'd collapsed." She glanced up and saw Chase still standing there, a curious look on his face. She gave him a little wave that was an unmistakeable dismissal. He got a look of sly amusement on his face but he shrugged and headed toward the door.
"So...," she continued once Chase was gone. She leaned forward and grabbed up a folder from the corner of her desk. She used it to fan her face, feeling hot and sweaty after her struggle to reach the phone. "Are you all settled back in at home?"
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But for some reason, Cuddy wasn't mentioning labour over the phone. She was talking about... organising files? Being on the floor and not being able to get up? Wanting to know if he was okay? Cuddy wasn't in labour, he realised. A new wave of adrenalin rushed through him, this time in the form of relief so strong he felt even more light-headed than ever. He needed to sit down, right now, before his legs gave way under the panic he'd just experienced.
"Jesus Christ," he uttered weakly. He rubbed his hand over his face and swallowed, and he limped over to the couch to sit down with a heavy slump. "Just got back now," he answered her.
He dropped his head back to the couch. God, he needed a few minutes to regroup himself. Or maybe a really, really stiff drink to calm his nerves. What a homecoming. Barely five minutes through the door and faced with the unexpected possibility that Cuddy was in labour right now. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, willing himself to calm down now he had no reason to be in a panic. If this is what a false alarm felt like, how on earth was he going to be when the actual moment came?
"I feel like I just got punk'd by an unborn baby," he admitted, sounding a little calmer.
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"You thought I was in labor?" she asked with a laugh. "I wish, but it's nothing that momentous. Just me doing paperwork and Chase looking for brownie points. Or looking to snoop. Probably both."
She let out another soft chuckle and imagined the look on House's face from the tone of his voice. It would seem logical that a doctor would not freak out over a woman going into labor, even if the baby was his. Some excitement and nervousness would be normal but not freaking out. From the sound of House's voice, though, she got the impression he'd gotten quite a shock, which surprised her. She knew he was uneasy about becoming a father but she really hadn't expected him to be so anxious about the actual birth.
"Are you going to be okay or do I need to send an ambulance over?" she asked in an amused tone. For herself, she was ready to get this baby born, at least physically. It seemed as though every day she was stretched to the bursting point and there was a new ache and she was less able to keep going. She still had some psychological concerns, centered mostly around House and his issues and how they were going to save their relationship but her body was definitely ready to be done with this. For the moment, though, Junior was hanging tight.
"I suppose we can consider this a rehearsal," she suggested, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she leaned back in her chair. She got a mischievous look on her face which she didn't bother to hide since he couldn't see her. "Maybe I should give you a few more rehearsals. That way, when it's for real, you won't be so shocked."
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Boy, he was starting to feel stupid for getting so uptight. He hadn't been able to help it, though. And he also hadn't realised just how nervous he was about the birth until he'd gotten that fright. Or maybe he was just nervous because he'd barely had any time to get his bearings after returning home from the hospital. Yeah, that made sense, he thought to himself. He wanted some time to relax at home, to enjoy his freedom and enjoy it before his life was thrown for another life-changing loop.
He snorted again when Cuddy asked if he needed an ambulance. "No, I'm fine. I'll just do CPR on myself, though I might need a hand... or well, a mouth, for the mouth-to-mouth part. Think I'll volunteer you for that job."
Lifting an arm, he draped it over his eyes while his adrenalin rate steadily lowered back to normal. "Yeah, that's a great idea," he replied sarcastically. "Who needs Aesop telling us fables about boys crying wolf when you can have the Braxton-Hicks version of Junior's Imperial March into the world?"
If Cuddy had wanted a rehearsal, she'd certainly just given him one just now. Maybe next time, however, he wouldn't slip so hard and fast into panic mode. Maybe next time, he'd be able to actually respond coherently instead of freezing in terror.
"Well, now that I've had an exciting welcome home," he said, dropping his hand back to his lap, "how's life? Besides beach whaling it around your office."
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She could hear the distinct lack of enthusiasm for more rehearsals in his voice. The idea would never have occurred to her--not seriously--because it had never occurred to her he would be so anxious. It made sense for her to have some nervousness about the process of giving birth. After all, it was her body that would have to endure what could be a very difficult and even dangerous process. He just had to be there--no pain, no risk. Apparently that was enough to send his nerves on high alert, though, so maybe a few rehearsals wouldn't be a bad idea.
"I'm doing my usual paper shuffling and pencil pushing." She sat forward and set her makeshift fan back on the desk with the other folders. "I'm doing it more slowly than usual but I'm doing it. Which is apparently very disappointing to the staff who'd bet on me delivering before now." She shifted the phone to her other ear and settled back in her chair again, rubbing her hand over the mountain of her belly.
"What about you? Got the party started yet? Called the strippers? Installed the disco ball? Got Wilson drunk enough to lose his pants?"
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He shut his eyes, willing the last vestiges of nerves to dissipate. He was okay, he assured himself. Cuddy was okay. There was no threat of babies squirming their way out of vaginas just yet. And just as well. He may have gotten more stablised while he was in hospital but he wasn't quite ready to go panic jiving around the room and around a labour ward due to Junior deciding the time was nigh.
Opening his eyes again, he let out a quiet, calming sigh. With the threat of childbirth put on hold, he could try to focus on enjoying being back home again, home for good. "Oh, absolutely," he agreed mock seriously. "The strippers are set to go, the disco ball's already cranking up the revolutions and Wilson drove me home without his pants on. The only thing missing now is the party guests."
Which brought him to his next point. "Do you want to waddle on over to the party tonight after work? Or should I ditch the party and limp over to your place?"
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She didn't believe most of her employees would truly want her gone for good. She knew she wasn't everyone's favorite boss but she wasn't evil either, House's assertions to the contrary. There were a few, of course, who didn't like her for one reason or another. She wasn't bothered by that. No one, especially not a boss, was universally loved. She did a good job, though, and she did look out for her employees and she thought they understood that at the end of the day. Of course, that didn't mean they wouldn't mind a vacation from her.
She smiled to herself when he claimed he was partying down at home, and especially at the notion of Wilson driving without his pants. It was nice to hear House being relaxed and joking around. Before he went into the hospital his demons had gotten pretty intense. That wasn't to say he'd lost the ability to have fun but it had definitely gotten harder for him to relax enough to be silly. Harder for her as well because there had always been a certain level of tension, an anticipation of bad things, that kept her from relaxing.
"Do you mind if we stay at my place?" she asked. It was getting so hard for her to get comfortable, especially at night, that she really wanted to be where she could be as comfortable as possible. She had a mountain of pillows arranged in her bed, she had her rocking chair for when bed didn't work, and she had her little pregnancy craving snacks. She felt better at home.
"My house is more pregnancy-friendly," she said. "Besides, if Junior does decide to make his grand entrance, my bag's at home."
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He wasn't sure what 'pregnancy-friendly' meant but between being glad to be out of Mayfield hellhole and Cuddy needing to be as comfortable as possible, he was willing to compromise to stay at her place. Besides, he liked it at her place - it had become his home away from home.
"Oh fine, if we really have to," he said with a dramatic, faux exasperated sigh. "You're such a party pooper. I'm going to have to lug this disco ball and all the strippers across town now."
Staying at Cuddy's place was probably going to be a good thing, though. While he was glad to be home, being out of sorts from having gone from institutionalised life in the hospital back to living carte blanche was going to take some getting used to. The weekend home he'd had helped but he'd known that he was going to be returning to the hospital. At least if he stayed at Cuddy's place, he had more chances of distraction and not being so aware of himself and the lack of routine.
"Well, it's..." He glanced at his watch. "Just after two. I guess I'll pack up the party now and gatecrash your place with the strippers for when you get home."
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She glanced down at her hand resting on her belly, checking her watch when he mentioned the time. Then she looked at her day planner and sighed. How had she let herself get distracted with the outdated files in the bottom cabinet drawers? She'd only made more work for herself while avoiding the work she already had to do.
"Okay," she said finally, quickly prioritizing tasks in her mind. "I've got...ugh, probably a couple more hours of work to do. I'll definitely be home before five, though. Can you entertain yourself until then?" She paused. Giving him free rein to entertain himself was generally not a great idea. Heaven only knew what he'd decide was entertaining. She certainly couldn't predict where his whims would take him.
"And by entertain yourself I don't mean going through all my drawers," she added. "Or doing anything illegal, unethical, or immoral." That ought to cover it. At the least, it ought to guarantee her house would still be standing when she got there. "And yes, that's more party-poopery. As I said, it's what I live for."
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Considering it was only mid-afternoon, he doubted he'd remain entertained her place on his own anyway, if he had to wait around for a couple of hours. He shrugged. "Oh, well. That's alright," he continued conversationally. "With a couple of hours to kill and my re-established freedom, I might head out for a bit first. To do... whatever."
Eat some junkfood, maybe go to the betting agency, do whatever he pleased now he had the freedom to do so. "Actually, I might do that now," he decided. "Stir some mischief up around town and be back home in time for dinner." Shifting to the edge of the couch, he added, "I'll see you tonight."
Once he said goodbye to Cuddy, the first thing he did was have a shower, to freshen up and wash away the smell of the hospital from his skin. He got dressed, didn't bother neatening his hair or getting rid of the stubble that had grown back since he'd shaved on the weekend, and grabbed his suitcase that he'd brought home from the hospital. There were a couple of clean things in there; the rest of the stuff needed to be washed and he figured he might as well do his laundry at Cuddy's. With that, he grabbed his keys, locked up and was out the door to his car.
He didn't go straight to Cuddy's place, though. Like he'd said on the phone, he decided to head out for a bit first, just to be out and about. Parked up on the main street, he wandered down the street at a leisurely pace, so incredibly glad to be out of Mayfield. All sorts of scrumptious smells hit his nose as he passed different cafes and food shops, making his stomach rumble. He really wanted something fatty and greasy, like a burger and fries. Stopping at a burger joint on the corner of the main street, he ducked inside and ordered himself a large burger and fries meal with a large soda. He tucked right into the food, hungrily scoffing down everything, and he was more than full by the time his plate was empty. He took his soda with him once he paid for his meal and returned to the street to continue ambling.
His intention was to head for the betting agency but as he slurped on his soda, a novelty store caught his eye with the huge range of gags and unusual gifts displayed in the window. He stopped to peruse and it suddenly dawned on him when his eyes landed on a gag birthday figurine in the shape of a penis: it was Cuddy's birthday at the end of the month. Right around the time the baby was due to be born. Oh, hell. Two birthdays at once. Well, a baby was a good enough gift for a birthday, he thought to himself. But even as he did, he wandered into the store, curious to see what else was in there. The gags and joke gifts were his kind of immature humour, anyhow.
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Maybe Cuddy would have a fit once she found out what he was doing: when he'd reached her house and carried everything inside, he started blowing up a heap of large balloons with the helium tank and let them float to the ceiling. He'd purchased five big bags of balloons; soon, her entire living room ceiling was bursting with balloons bobbing amongst themselves, some of which had escaped out into the hall and were bobbing along that ceiling. Well, he'd said to Cuddy that he was having a party - not that he'd planned any of this, though. His purchases at the store had been completely impulsive.
All the other things he'd bought were still in the plastic bags he'd dumped on her couch, forgotten for now. They were forgotten because he was busily changing his shirt into a new red t-shirt he'd bought just because he liked it, and was then fitting two cans of soda he'd also bought into the holders of a beer cap. He popped the cap on his head and sipped the soda while he rummaged around in the bags for something else - a remote control monster truck, which he spent several minutes fitting batteries into both the truck itself and the remote control.
He experimented with it at first once it was set up, guiding it around the living room with the controls. Very quickly, his face took on that of an excited kid as he rammed the monster truck into Cuddy's furniture. Bored with just steering it around the room, he got up from where he was sitting on the couch and followed the monster truck out into the hall and across to the dining room, making the truck do wheelies and tipping around sharp bends and doing slalom around the dining room chair legs. All the while, he was sipping on his drinks from the cap he was wearing on his head.
He was so caught up in what he was doing that he didn't hear the front door open or see Cuddy enter. He was steering the monster truck at full pelt from the dining room out to the front hall, limping out after it quickly, and he excitedly made a loud revving sound in imitation of a monster truck engine as he spun the truck into a donut spin.
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Was she really worried he'd end up in jail? Well, it never paid to bet against House doing something stupid and self-destructive. Right then, he was like a prisoner just released from the big house and the intoxicating feel of freedom could spur him into doing something crazy. Probably not, but it wasn't entirely out of the question. She just had to hope his meds had enough of a calming effect on him that he wouldn't feel compelled to do something dangerous.
She repeated her promise to be home by five and said good-bye. As she returned the receiver to its cradle, Chase gave a quick tap on her office door and stepped back in. She leaned back in her chair, regarding him with a suspicious look.
"So...House is home?" he asked.
"Apparently."
"All finished with his treatment then?" Chase persisted.
Cuddy's eyes narrowed. She'd told House's team he was receiving some follow-up treatment for the shooting, implying it was physical treatment. Chase obviously had his suspicions about that story and he was fishing for more information. "He's finished his inpatient treatment. He'll be continuing with some outpatient therapy."
"So he'll be back to work...?"
"When his doctor releases him to return to work." Cuddy gave him a pointed look. She understood his curiosity and he certainly had a right to want to know when his boss would be back to terrorize the team but it didn't outweigh House's right to privacy. "I appreciate your help earlier, but I'm sure you have better things to do. And if you don't, I can certainly find something for you to do."
"Fine, fine," Chase said, an easy grin on his face as he reached for the doorknob. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
She watched Chase long enough to be sure he was really headed out of the area, then she lowered her gaze to her desk. If she intended to make good on her promise to be home by a reasonable hour, she needed to ignore distractions like Chase and concentrate on her work.
For the next couple of hours, that's exactly what she did. Except for the all too frequent trips to the bathroom, she stayed at her desk and plowed through the never-ending list of requests and requirements that came through her office. In a way, she supposed she should be glad it was never-ending--it was a sort of job security--but some days she'd like to take the whole pile and burn it.
She kept her focus well enough that by quarter after four, she'd completed everything she'd deemed necessary. Once she reached the end of her 'must-do' list, she logged off her computer and closed up her office for the day. Because she was earlier than normal, she didn't have as much traffic to contend with and she arrived home well before her self-imposed deadline.
House's car was parked outside and there wasn't a single policeman in sight. She considered that a good omen and she made a beeline for the front door, her briefcase in hand. She started to call out for him as she opened the door but she stopped in confusion when she saw some balloons drifting along the ceiling of the hall. Before she could process that, an annoying buzzing sound grew louder and an RC monster truck came barreling out of the dining room, followed by its owner.
"House? What...?" She waved at the balloons and the truck, completely confused.
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His attention returned to the RC toy. With excited concentration, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, he directed the truck across the hall where it bashed into the wall. He reversed it, made it face the other way with a sharp turn and pushed the stick on the remote control to make the truck zip across the floor to the other wall with another loud thump.
He slurped loudly on his beer cap drinks while spinning the truck back to the centre of the room, making all kinds of car noises like a little kid playing with his toy cars. "It's Monster Jam!" he announced in a growly, monster truck commentator's voice. "Coming to you live from Cuddy's Front Hall Arena. Watch that airborn!"
Clipping the wheels against the skirting board and sent the truck jumping into the air a little before thumping back to the floor. The truck zipped and zigzagged at full speed and when he spun it around again to face the other way, he gunned the truck right in the direction of Cuddy's feet. "Grave Digger's about to attempt it's biggest enemy yet, Lisa Cuddy herself...!"
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She put her foot on top of the truck as it raced at her. She didn't damage it; she merely prevented it from going anywhere. "Grave Digger comes after me and he'll be digging his own grave," she warned before releasing the truck and stepping around it. She set her briefcase on the floor, propped against the wall and walked to him. "Nice shirt," she said dryly, leaning in for a kiss, one hand pressed against his chest. She patted her hand against the lovely illustration on his shirt, then continued into the living room...where there were even more balloons.
She shook her head in amazement. He was such a child sometimes. Still, this was relatively minor trouble-making. And it was probably the type she should get used to because she could imagine it was exactly the kind of trouble-making he and Junior would get up to at every opportunity.
"You forgot the disco ball," she said, looking around for any other signs of partying.
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