Adventures in Scooterland
A while back I wrote Cuddy/Scooter for the rare-pair thingy. Because I wanted to see if I could make it believable. And because I want more Scooter. Unfortunately I didn't have enough time before the deadline to write the *full* story. So, since I want to continue writing stories in the Scooter!verse, I went back and finished this one. This is the expanded and extended version of "October-December" for all two of you who might care. It follows "Conspiracy of Hope" but all you need to know is that Scooter still works for House and Amber's not dead.
“What’s he doing here?” Taub asked the second House walked through the door of the conference room. House paused just long enough to take in the ‘he’ in question, who was seated at the end of the table looking on with a benign smile, before continuing on his quest for coffee.
“You didn’t tell them?” House asked Henry.
“I thought I’d leave that pleasure to you.”
“What pleasure?” Taub demanded, twisting around in his seat to talk to House as he passed behind Taub. Kutner, Thirteen and Foreman--who had been entertaining themselves by watching Taub grow twitchier with each passing minute--were now watching House and waiting for a response.
“Scooter here worked out a special deal with our beloved Dean of Medicine.” House’s tone was just as suggestive as he could make it. He turned to face the group, holding the coffee cup with one hand and dumping in the contents of a sugar packet with the other. “He is now a legally licensed doctor of medicine. And lucky us, he’s our new resident.”
“You don’t accept residents,” Kutner pointed out. The others, including Taub and Henry, stared at him and wondered at the level of Kutner’s stupidity. Or bravery. They hadn’t reached a consensus on which it was yet.
“I don’t,” House agreed in a tone so calm it made even Foreman start to twitch. “Wasn’t my choice.”
“You got Cuddy to override House?” Thirteen asked Henry.
“Come on,” Henry scoffed. “Do you think I’d be here if House really didn’t want me here?”
In response, all three of the new fellows threw not-so-subtle glances at Foreman. Foreman rolled his eyes; months after his return and he was still viewed as the unwanted stepchild.
Henry took in the response and merely made a dismissive shrug. “That’s different.”
“Not really,” House interjected as he sat down at the other end of the table. “Cuddy took one of my testicles when she hired Foreman and the other when she hired you. If she keeps going at this rate, I’m going to have to find a new hobby to occupy my Saturday nights. Which means Cuddy is going to have to find a new hobby to fill her Saturday nights.”
“I’m sure the internet porn sites will suffer significant profit loss this quarter as a result,” Foreman said dryly. “But your personal crisis aside--where’s the harm in having another mind at work on the problem?”
“Too many cooks spoil the broth,” House said.
“No man is an island,” Foreman shot back.
“He who laughs last, laughs longest,” House countered.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Foreman said as he and House stared at each other.
“Wait...so if he’s our resident, does that mean we get to make him do our scut work?” Kutner’s expression brightened but only because he was oblivious to the exchange between House and Foreman.
House stared down to the opposite end of the table with a smug grin for Henry. “What else are residents for?”
~~**~~
“Well, you survived the first month,” Cuddy said as she led Henry into her office. “How’s it going?”
“When House is occupied by a case, he doesn’t have much time to harass me,” Henry said. “When he’s bored...well, he’s got four other people to humiliate. He can’t waste it all on me.”
“So many insults, so little time?” Cuddy asked dryly. She dropped a stack of folders on the corner of her desk before sinking into her chair with a sigh. “Seriously, how is it?”
“It’s fine,” Henry assured her. “House and I think too much alike for him to really nail me on the medical stuff. And I learn more in a week with him than I would anywhere else. I’m happy with the situation even if he isn’t.”
“He is.” Cuddy opened a folder and took up her pen. “He likes you. He respects you. Once he gets over being mad at me for hiring you, he’ll be happy with the situation.”
“When will he get over being mad at you for hiring me?”
“Oh...probably never,” Cuddy admitted.
Henry took the news with a chuckle. He turned to leave, then stopped. He stood, silent, for a few moments before he turned back to face her. “So, I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me?”
Cuddy looked up from her desk, peering at Henry with a puzzled look. “You mean...like a date?”
“Yes, like a date. I thought it would be okay now that I’m not your assistant. At least from a legal standpoint.”
“I...um....” Distracted, she set her pen aside and reached up to push her hair back from her face.
“It’s okay if you say no,” Henry continued calmly. “I just thought.... Well, no harm in asking, right?”
“No,” Cuddy said. “I mean….” She shook her head, rattled by Henry’s question. “I mean yes, I think I’d like to have dinner with you.”
“Really?” For the first time in the conversation, Henry looked a little rattled himself. In fact, it was one of the few times in nearly a year of knowing him that Cuddy had ever seen Henry look rattled. It was kind of nice to know that she’d accomplished what House couldn’t. Although the fact she hadn’t been trying to accomplish it did lessen the victory somewhat.
“Yes, really,” she assured him.
“Great.” Henry had a big smile on his face as he nodded to her. “Saturday okay? I know a great restaurant. You’ll love it, I promise.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
~~**~~
“So what did you have to do to get this job?” Kutner asked Henry.
“Or who,” Taub muttered under his breath.
“Want to watch where you’re putting that scope?” Henry said with a pointed look at Taub. Taub muttered something under his breath but turned his focus back to the endoscope he was guiding through the patient’s colon.
Henry glanced over at Kutner and Thirteen and shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. Honestly, I’d already made contact with a few other residency programs when Dr. Cuddy offered me the position.”
“You had to know it would piss off House.” Kutner reached up to angle the monitor to where Taub could see it more clearly, then glanced back at Henry. Henry merely nodded in agreement. Of course he’d known House wouldn’t like it. But then House didn’t like much of what happened in the hospital. Henry hadn’t planned to miss an opportunity just because it didn’t meet with House’s approval, especially when it was exactly the opportunity he’d wanted.
“Come on, he’s here to harass and humiliate us, just like Foreman,” Taub said.
“Didn’t say anything about humiliation in my contract,” Henry said. He reached over Kutner’s shoulder and tapped a spot on the monitor. “You should get a biopsy of that.”
“Biopsy of what? There’s nothing there.” Taub looked at Henry, and Henry simply stared back. Taub turned his head to look at Kutner and Thirteen, and they, too, merely stared back. “Come on. He just graduated medical school. We’re really going to start listening to him?”
“Just do the biopsy,” Thirteen said with a sigh.
~~**~~
“So how did you find this place?” Cuddy asked as the waiter cleared away the scant remains of their meal. She gave an airy wave, encompassing the main dining room of the restaurant, before turning back to her dinner companion. “The décor is gorgeous and the food is wonderful but from the outside this place looks like....”
“Like a dump, I know.” Henry nodded and took a sip of wine. He and Cuddy were seated at a small, round table. The flame of an ivory pillar candle cast a soft glow on their faces as they leaned toward each other. There were a number of other small, round tables in the restaurant, spaced in such a way as to maintain the illusion of privacy, even intimacy. The lighting was low and warm and the noise level rarely rose above a muted hum. It was definitely a setting for lovers, and for possibly soon to be lovers.
Henry gestured toward the entrance and the proprietor, an old friend of his, waved back. “The owners like to keep it exclusive. I like it that way, too. It certainly helps avoid House detection.”
“Please, House is too busy protecting his investment in Wilson to do any detecting,” Cuddy scoffed. She waved off the dessert menu and waited until the waiter had left them alone again before continuing in a low voice. “He wouldn’t notice if I started dating the cast of ‘The L Word’.”
“I think he’d notice that,” Henry said with a wry smile. “Just like he’ll eventually notice we had a date. “
“And then he’ll make my life miserable, sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong,” Cuddy agreed with a casual shrug.
“You like that he’s jealous,” Henry said, his voice carrying a subtle hint of challenge.
“I don’t like that he’s jealous...exactly,” Cuddy said after a thoughtful pause. “It’s just his weird way of showing he cares. After all the time and energy I’ve invested in him, yes, I like to know that it means something to him.”
“Fair enough,” Henry said. He held his wine glass by the stem, twirling it and watching the liquid swirl. He glanced back up at Cuddy. “I can’t help but wonder what you’re doing here, though.”
“I’m here because you asked me.”
“You said yes. Why?”
“Why did you ask me?” Cuddy gave a little shake of her head. She got enough head games on the job with House. She was off the clock now, and away from House. “I said yes because you interest me.”
“Because I’m like House?” Henry shrugged when Cuddy gave him a puzzled look. “It’s what some people would think.”
“Is that what you think?” Cuddy toyed with her wine glass a moment then pushed it aside. “The fact that I might have been attracted to House and that I am attracted to you now isn’t because you’re a House substitute. You both happen to share some qualities I admire. I respect those qualities in House; I respect them in you. That doesn’t mean I see the two of you the same.”
“But you do think we’re similar?” Henry prompted.
“You both have that non-linear way of thinking. It’s annoying but it’s amazing, too.”
“It’s not non-linear thinking.” Henry leaned forward, shaking his head. “House simply follows a different line to the answer. Everyone starts at point A and ends up at point B. Except House, who ends up at point Q. The thing is, he didn’t jump to that point, he followed a very specific route to the answer. It only looks like he’s pulling it out of his ass because he doesn’t explain his thought process.”
“And you can follow his process. Hell, you don’t even need to follow, you take a parallel path at the same time because you have that ability to see what other people don’t. I envy that.”
“You shouldn’t. You’re a very intelligent woman.”
“Give me a list of textbook symptoms and I can make the diagnosis. But if it’s not textbook, if it requires a little creative thinking, I can’t do it.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Henry said. “Sometimes following a different path gets you lost.”
“Like following a different path gets you thinking I’m looking for a House substitute,” Cuddy pointed out. She gave Henry a small, warning shake of her head. “I’m not looking for anything more than to get to know you better.”
Henry held up his wine glass, tipping it toward her. “I’ll drink to that.”
~~**~~
“What’s the differential for my fraudulent resident needing a nap?”
House capped his marker and took his cane from where it was hooked over the top of the whiteboard. His fellows stopped in the middle of discussing their new patient and glanced at Henry, momentarily disconcerted by the abrupt change of topic.
“It’s a plasmacytoma,” Henry said. He was slouched in his chair at the end of the table, his expression bored.
“Of course it is,” House said.
“It is?” Kutner asked.
“Obviously, which is why it’s not the differential I’m interested in at this moment.”
“What does it matter?” Thirteen asked as she began to shuffle the pages of lab results back into the file. “He was obviously paying attention or he wouldn’t have gotten the right diagnosis.”
“He got the right diagnosis two minutes into the differential, just like I did,” House said impatiently. “The rest of the time he’s been in la la land.” House turned a sharp-eyed look on Henry. “So what was it? Did PBS play a late night episode of Lawrence Welk last night?”
“Sinatra retrospective,” Henry said calmly. “Didn’t get over until 8:30, which is way past my bedtime.”
“Who was she?” House asked. “Obviously not one of the blue-haired brigade. A man who looks as happy and exhausted as you do is obviously getting it on with a much younger woman.”
“Great,” Taub said sarcastically as he shoved his pen in his breast pocket. “Just what the world needs: another old fart banging some young undergrad.”
“She’s not an undergrad.”
“Grad student?” Kutner asked, sounding almost hopeful.
“Does she know you’re poor?” House asked. “More to the point, does she know you’re not a real doctor?”
“Doesn’t seem to be an issue even though she is both a doctor and well-paid herself,” Henry said.
“Seriously?” Thirteen asked. She gave him a fleeting half smile. “Good for you.”
“Yeah, good for you,” House said. His expression had suddenly gone all too serious. “Bad for lonely forty-year-old hospital administrators.”
The three fellows looked at each other, their faces shaded with uncertainty. Kutner squirmed in his seat, his eyes darting suspiciously between Henry and House. Taub squinted at the ceiling as he tried to picture how the pieces fit. “Do you mean...?” he began.
“He doesn’t mean anything,” Henry said, his impassive stare fixed on House.
House grimaced a smile. “Right. I don’t know what I’m talking about at all.” He glanced at the others. “Go scan the patient’s spine, then page Wilson when you find the plasmacytoma.”
The room fell silent as the three fellows shuffled out. Henry remained seated and House gave him a probing look before he turned to erase the white board. “Bad idea, banging your boss.”
“Interesting observation coming from you,” Henry said calmly. “Especially given that you’re my boss.”
“Technically, Cuddy’s everyone’s boss.”
“Technically, she’s not my direct supervisor therefore we’re not violating the code of conduct.”
“Bet that’s the only thing you’re not violating.”
“She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman and I enjoy her company,” Henry said as he got up and pushed his chair under the table. He slid his hands in his pockets as he regarded House somberly. “And you don’t give a crap about what’s bad for me and you generally don’t care what’s bad for Dr. Cuddy. You think this is bad for you.”
House set the eraser down very slowly, then he shifted his cane to his right hand as he abruptly faced Henry. “Does she make you call her Dr. Cuddy in bed? Or did you skip the formalities and go straight to Mistress?”
Henry shook his head at House’s attempt to avoid the real issue. “I’m not playing games with her, House.”
“Everyone plays games,” House said as he walked heavily toward his office.
~~**~~
“He’s twice your age,” House argued.
Frustrated by the way he was following her around her office, Cuddy stopped in her tracks and turned on him. “He’s not twice my age. Besides, all the men my age are married, gay….” She gave House a pointed look. “Or jerks.”
“You like him,” House said, suddenly hesitant as she walked behind her desk.
“Imagine that.”
“No, I mean...you actually like him,” House said, perplexed.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“He’s old and wrinkly and bald.”
“He’s mature. He’s also intelligent, charming, and he doesn’t need pills to be able to interact with the rest of the human race.”
“So you’re dating him because he’s a wimpier version of me?”
“He’s a better version of you.” Cuddy sat at her desk and stared at House, her expression defiant. “He’s you without the anger and the self-loathing and the inappropriate comments about my wardrobe. Henry has all your good qualities, and none of the bad ones.”
“He’s only doing you to repay the fake degree you gave him.” Even House recognized it was a lame attempt at retaliation. Unfortunately it was the best he could come up with at the moment. “The fact you don’t realize that makes you even more pathetic than usual.”
“Go take care of your patient.”
“Not my patient anymore. It’s Wilson’s.”
“Then go find a new patient,” Cuddy said, her hands flying out in exasperation. “Stop sticking your nose in my business.”
“Your business is my business.”
“No. It’s not. I know this is hard for you to accept but who I date, who I sleep with, who I fantasize about is none of your business. Never has been, never will be.”
“You fantasize about Scooter?” House asked, face scrunched up in disgust.
“Out!”
~~**~~
Henry glanced up from the microscope and looked over his shoulder when he heard the door to the lab open. Thirteen gave a little wave as she crossed the room and took a seat on the other side of the lab table.
“Need some help?” she asked, settling on the stool.
“It’s scut work,” he pointed out. Kutner and Taub had been all too happy to hand off the lab work to him. What they didn’t realize was that he enjoyed it. It was still medicine, after all, and he’d been waiting thirty years to do it.
“Yeah,” she agreed as she reached for a slide. “But until we get the results there’s nothing else to do.”
“I take it Taub and Kutner drew the job of breaking into the patient’s home.”
“Taub and Foreman, actually. I think Kutner’s doing House’s clinic hours.” She raised her eyes from the lenses and stared at him for a moment before lowering her head again.
“Just ask.” Henry’s words were slightly muffled because he hadn’t bothered to lift his head from the microscope.
“It’s none of my business.”
“And yet everyone’s talking about it.”
“Not everyone,” Thirteen said. She set the slide aside with a shake of her head to indicate it had showed nothing of interest. She reached across the table and took the next one, then waited for Henry to slide the bottle of stain to her side of the table. “Kutner talks about it. Taub just grinds his teeth a lot. Foreman doesn’t seem to care and House doesn’t have anything to say about it.”
“House has plenty to say about it. He just isn’t saying it.”
“Is that why you did it?”
“To annoy House?” Henry asked, seeking clarification. When Thirteen nodded, he smiled to himself, shaking his head. “I have no special reason to annoy House. Yes, he fired me but he had to. No, he wasn’t happy when Dr. Cuddy hired me, when she got recognition for my med school courses or when she assigned me to his department.” Henry shrugged. It was all water off his back. “But that’s between House and Cuddy. It really has very little to do with me.”
“So you’re just a pawn in their power struggle and you didn’t sleep your way into the job?” Thirteen asked with an amused look.
“Sleep my way into the job?” Henry chuckled and leaned back, waving a hand at himself. “Have you seen Dr. Cuddy? Do you see me? How could anyone possibly believe she’s so hard up she would want or need sexual favors from me?”
“Maybe you’re just that good,” she said with a sly smile.
“I am,” Henry said, winking at her. Thirteen shook her head but she was smiling. “But that had nothing to do with it. Everything was strictly professional between us while I was her assistant. I waited until a month after I became House’s resident to ask her out.”
“Wow,” Thirteen said dryly. “A whole month?”
“Hey, at my age a month is like a year,” Henry said, bending over the microscope again.
Thirteen sat, her body still as she thought. “You don’t want to let an opportunity pass you by.”
“Not anymore. If I did, I wouldn’t be a doctor right now,” Henry agreed. Thirteen nodded, then reached for the next slide.
~~**~~
Henry opened the door to a little used storeroom around the corner from the morgue. To his surprise, the overhead light was already on. The single dim bulb did little to illuminate his surroundings but it provided enough light to see his boss’s boss in the room, on her knees digging through boxes on the lowest level of the metal shelving unit.
“Lisa?”
Cuddy startled, then sat back on her heels as she looked up. “Henry? What are you doing down here?”
“House sent me on a wild goose chase…or so I thought.” Henry held his hand out and helped Cuddy to her feet. Her hand lingered in his as she reached down with her other hand to brush some dust from the hem of her skirt. “What are you doing here?”
“The real question is what are the Dean of Medicine and a ridiculously old fraud doing together in a storage closet?” House was standing in the doorway with a slightly smug and definitely expectant air.
“The compliance hotline got a tip that someone’s been using this closet to stash expired dialysate fluid and then giving it to indigent patients,” Cuddy told Henry. Then she turned a glare on House. “Apparently I misread the signature on the tip, though. It wasn’t anonymous, it was anonym-ass.”
“It’s a good idea, though. We throw gallons of perfectly good dialysate away every week.”
“It’s not perfectly good--it’s expired. We can’t use expired medications on anyone,” Cuddy said, her hand slipping from Henry’s grasp as she advanced on House. “We especially can’t use expired medications on the poor.”
“Right, because it’s better, and more economical, to just let the poor die,” House said sarcastically.
Cuddy smacked him on the arm. “What are you doing?”
“I think it’s obvious what he’s doing,” Henry said, standing just behind her.
“Nothing’s obvious with him,” she snapped as she looked over her shoulder at Henry. House looked over her shoulder as well and gave Henry a look that hinted at victory.
“He’s hoping to precipitate a scandal in the hope of splitting us up. “ Henry gave House a smile that said he’d see that victory and completely own House while he was at it. “Or maybe he was simply hoping to pick up a few pointers about what to do with a beautiful woman in a dark room.”
“As if,” House snorted, but he didn’t look so sure of himself any longer.
“Stop chasing geese and go do your real work,” Cuddy told Henry. He nodded, giving her elbow just the lightest touch as he passed. She turned on House as he tried to slip out the door after Henry. “You. Stay.”
“But what about my real work?” House whined.
“Your lackeys will do it, as usual.” Cuddy stepped closer. House backed away, step for step, until he thumped back against the closed door. She kept moving forward until he had to tuck his chin against his chest to look down into her eyes. “I told you to stay out of my personal life. I told you it’s none of your business.”
“Pshaw. You always say that, and you never mean it.”
“This time, I do,” Cuddy said. She nudged House out of the way and opened the door to leave. “Stay out.”
~~**~~
“You waited too long,” Wilson said. “Again.”
“I don’t want Cuddy,” House snapped as he followed Wilson through the lunch line. “I just don’t want Cuddy hemorrhaging bits of her broken heart all over the place. It’ll make the floor slippery and I’ve already got one bad leg.”
“Maybe he won’t break her heart.”
“Every man breaks Cuddy’s heart,” House scoffed.
“Even you?” Wilson sighed as House turned away from him, his silence answer enough. Wilson paid for his meal and picked up his tray. “Who’s to say Cuddy’s heart is on the line to begin with? Henry takes her dancing, they go to dinner, they have a little civilized conversation. They enjoy each other’s company. It’s not necessarily true love.”
“Cuddy always thinks it’s true love. She’s like you that way. Neither of you has the sense to avoid bad relationships.”
“Right, and you’re an expert on good relationships.”
“Don’t need to be. I’m an expert on her bad relationships.” House picked up his tray and followed Wilson to a table on the far side of the room. He dropped his tray on the table with apparent disregard for the safety of either the dishes or the food.
“I think Henry could be good for Cuddy,” Wilson said as he spread his napkin over his lap. “I think you think Henry could be good for Cuddy, too, which is why it bothers you so much.”
“You have no idea what I think,” House said harshly. “You don’t even have any idea what you think.”
“Yeah, I don’t know you at all.”
“You don’t.” House picked up his sandwich and took a huge bite.
“So you’re not going to show up outside Cuddy’s bedroom window in the middle of the night or cancel their dinner reservations or make Henry work extra shifts?”
“Duh.” House chewed with his mouth open, crumbs tumbling from his lips. Wilson averted his eyes in disgust. “Cuddy would be hurt if I didn’t.”
~~**~~
“Mr. Diarrhea is back,” Kutner announced as he sauntered into the conference room. Foreman stopped pouring coffee into his mug and looked over his shoulder at Kutner. Thirteen and Taub exchanged glances before looking down the table at House to gauge his response.
“Who?” House asked, looking up from his soap opera digest with a puzzled frown.
“The guy with the diarrhea. And the vomiting and the abdominal pain,” Kutner prompted.
“Half the people we see have vomiting and diarrhea,” House said as he flipped to the next page in his magazine. “I suspect it has something to do with the hospital food.”
“We discharged him less than a week ago,” Foreman said, finally holding a full cup of coffee. “He was better.”
“And now he’s worse.” Kutner handed the file to Foreman before he plopped down in the chair next to Thirteen.
“Henry probably missed something when he processed the biopsy slides,” Taub suggested.
“Don’t be coy,” House said in mock commiseration. “Just come right out and say you think he screwed up because he’s old and forgetful...and yet still smarter than you are.”
“Henry didn’t miss anything,” Thirteen interjected as Taub glowered resentfully at House. “I worked with him on the slides. There was nothing there to miss.”
“So you didn’t trust him to get it right either?” House asked.
“No, that’s not it,” Thirteen insisted, defiantly meeting House’s gaze. “I just thought we’d get the results faster if two people worked on it.”
“You like him,” House said, somewhat baffled by his own conclusion.
“No,” Kutner said. Then he looked at Thirteen. “Seriously?”
“He’s interesting. I enjoy working with him. Is that a crime?” she asked. Judging by Taub’s expression, yes, it was a crime. Kutner continued to look confused and Foreman pointedly ignored the entire conversation.
And House appeared to be plotting something. “Where is Scooter anyway?”
“I sent him to return some films to radiology,” Taub said.
“Well, page him.” House pushed up from his chair and headed for his office. “We need to find what we missed.”
~~**~~
“You have to help me get House off my back.” Cuddy walked rapidly down the third floor corridor, not slowing for a moment as she talked to Wilson. If anything, her agitation over the subject under discussion only made her walk faster.
“What do you want me to do? Throw Amber to the wolf?”
Cuddy looked up at Wilson with a pleading expression. “Would you?”
Wilson stopped and stared at her before giving an exasperated shake of his head when he realized she was almost, slightly, maybe just a little bit serious. “Hey, if it weren’t for the fact that you started dating Henry, House and Amber would still be filing their claws and hissing at each other. I admit it was amusing for a while but I’ve had enough. Besides, Henry can handle House.”
“So can Amber,” Cuddy said quickly as she turned to face Wilson. She relented when he gave her a stubborn look. She made a frustrated gesture with her hand. “I can’t get him to stop. He insists he’s doing me a favor.”
“Given his view of relationships, he probably thinks he is,” Wilson pointed out.
Cuddy let out a resigned sigh. “It’s annoying when he interferes with a blind date but I can deal with it. Those dates probably aren’t going to turn into anything anyway. But now…. I have to sneak out of the hospital when I have a date with Henry. I have to sneak out of my house. Or into my house. And House keeps catching me. What am I supposed to do?”
“Wear a disguise?” Wilson suggested. Cuddy scowled at him and he gave her an apologetic smile. “Listen, I know exactly what you’re going through. Amber and I went so far as to set up a custody agreement...which House ignored. The best you can hope for is that someone else’s love life will catch his attention.”
“He doesn’t seem to care about anyone else’s love life.”
“He would if Thirteen started dating Cameron,” Wilson suggested.
“Like that’ll happen,” Cuddy scoffed.
“Well, it doesn’t actually have to happen. There just has to be the suggestion that it’s happened.”
“You want me to start rumors that Thirteen and Cameron are having wild, lesbian sex?” Cuddy gave him an incredulous look despite the fact that she’d known Wilson to tell some tall tales before. Sometimes even without House’s provocation or encouragement. “That’s something House would do. You want me to sink to his level?”
“Your choice: take the high road and endure House’s relentless obsession or sink to his level and get some peace and quiet.”
“Those are my only two options?”
“It’s House,” Wilson confirmed with a nod.
~~**~~
“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” Henry and Cuddy were seated on the floor in front of his coffee table, open containers of Chinese take-out scattered in front of them. Cuddy was still wearing the skirt and blouse she’d worn to work that morning. Henry was still wearing the clothes he’d worn to work the morning before that. He’d removed his tie and his shoes and rolled up his sleeves, though, now that he was officially off House’s clock.
“I wasn’t going to let House ruin our evening,” Cuddy said.
“He did, though,” Henry said ruefully. “I promised you dinner and dancing. This is poor substitute.”
“I beg your pardon,” Cuddy said, affecting an offended look. “This is the finest Chinese take-out in, oh, probably ten miles. Five at least.” She broke open her fortune cookie and read the paper strip. “And wise, too. My fortune says I will find the perfect man sitting to my right.”
“Let me see that.” Henry reached for the fortune, skeptical.
“Nope.” Cuddy crumpled the paper up in her palm and tucked it in the deep V of her blouse, a taunting grin on her face. “It won’t come true if you see it.”
“It’s a fortune, not a birthday wish,” Henry said, but he leaned back and left her fortune alone...for the moment. “Okay, so the dinner was tolerable--although that was mostly due to the company--but we missed the dancing.”
Cuddy climbed to her bare feet, shoes long since abandoned, and held her hand out to Henry. “So let’s dance.”
“Now?” Henry chuckled but he took her hand and pushed himself off the floor. He walked over to an old stereo system, one that played actual LPs, and set the needle down on the vinyl. As the strains of Sinatra filtered through the speakers, slightly scratchy with age, Henry turned and extended his hand to her.
“You’re good at this,” Cuddy said a moment later. They slow-danced across the living room, Henry guiding them gracefully around obstacles like the coffee table where they’d shared their meal.
“Sure, but anyone can dance in the living room,” Henry said dismissively. He broke into a sly smile. “You should see me tango in the bathtub.”
“I don’t know about your tub tango, but you do a mean samba in the sheets.”
Henry’s smile softened as Cuddy rested her head against his shoulder. “But a man needs to be more than a dancing fool. I’m afraid your fortune cookie lied--I’m not a perfect man.”
“No, I lied.” Cuddy looked into his eyes, a soft smile on her lips. “My fortune actually said the perfect man was sitting to my left. But when I looked to my left there was no one there.”
“Not literally....”
“Stop it. House isn’t here literally or figuratively or any other way,” Cuddy said firmly. “There was no one sitting in the position of the perfect man because there is no such thing.” Cuddy hooked her arms around his s shoulders. “But there is such a thing as a good man. You’re a good man, Henry.”
“But I’m not House,” he reminded her.
Cuddy chuckled. “Thank god.”
~~**~~
“I get that you’re lonely,” Wilson said as he plopped down in the chair in front of House’s desk.
“I’m not lonely.”
“You are, and by choice. Which is okay if that’s what you really want. But you don’t need to make everyone else be lonely with you.”
“I’m not....” House began, scowling.
“Where was Henry last Friday night?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” House’s expression was pure innocence...except for the furtive shift of his eyes.
“Yes, you do. Because you knew Henry and Cuddy had a date Friday night only they didn’t have it because you had Henry chasing down some irrelevant and possibly even non-existent files.” Wilson crossed his arms over his chest and waited for an explanation.
“I needed him to do his job,” House insisted. “And if that means he has to miss a night of Cuddy-ling, well, then I saved him a couple bucks worth of Viagra.”
“I know why you’re doing this.”
“Oh, god,” House groaned. He grabbed his iPod and started rifling through his desk drawers looking for his earpieces.
“You only interfere in the love lives of two people: me and Cuddy,” Wilson went on, completely ignoring House’s reaction. “Normally, only one of us is having a love life at any given time so you’re free to concentrate on the lucky one.”
“Can you shut up and let me be the lucky one?”
“This time both Cuddy and I are in relationships. You don’t have time to harass both of us so you had to choose. You chose Cuddy, and I started wondering why that was.”
“Aw, is Jimmy feeling left out?” House gave up on finding his earphones and drew an X over his heart with mock solemnity. “I swear--I love you best.”
“That’s....” Wilson shook his finger at House. “Not what this is about. Yes, we’re best friends, and that relationship isn’t going to change. That relationship isn’t threatened. Doesn’t matter who we get involved with romantically, you and me are always going to be...us.”
“Eloquent and insightful as ever, Dr. Phil.” House nodded toward the door. “Can I go now?”
“But,” Wilson said emphatically. “Your relationship with Cuddy is threatened. At least, the relationship you wish you had with Cuddy is threatened. If she’s in love with Henry then she can’t be in love with you, and that bothers you.”
“I don’t want Cuddy.”
“You...want the possibility of wanting Cuddy.”
“Yeah,” House drawled. “Because I’m all about theoretical relationships.”
“Actually, you are.” Wilson sat forward, ready to expound on that theory but he was interrupted when Kutner and Thirteen walked in.
“Mr. Diarrhea has returned. Again,” Kutner told House as he and Thirteen stopped by the side of the desk.
“No,” House whined. “It’s sprue.”
“Apparently not, because he’s sick again. Sicker, even,” Thirteen said.
“He got better on the diet.” House paused, his face going slack as he thought. “No, he got better in the hospital.”
“So what do we do? Keep him in the hospital for the rest of his life?” Kutner asked.
“We’re not doing the right tests,” House said, frowning thoughtfully. “Did we screen him for toxins last time?”
“Yep,” Kutner said. “All negative.”
“What do we know about his personal life?”
“Nothing’s changed since the last time we admitted him. Married for twelve years, two kids,” Thirteen reported. “Worked for the same car dealership for the last ten years. Seems to be well liked.”
“Please,” House scoffed. “No one likes car salesmen.”
“Whatever,” Kutner said. “No one else at his home or his workplace is sick so whatever it is, he’s not getting it there.”
“Could be. Have we checked him for poison?”
“You think someone poisoned him?” Thirteen asked, incredulous. “Why? Because he didn’t give someone a good enough deal on their trade-in?”
“Or maybe God is doing a remake of the Bible and our patient’s the new Job,” House said. “My guess, though, is that someone a little less omniscient is behind his troubles.”
“We’ll start testing him,” Kutner said, and he and Thirteen headed toward the door without further discussion.
House started to turn away and noticed Wilson still sitting in the chair, eyes fixed on House. “Why are you still here?”
~~**~~
Foreman let himself out onto the balcony where House was leaning against the outer ledge and looking down at the front entrance of the hospital. He hesitated behind House, tapping the patient’s file against his thigh. “He’s being poisoned.”
House nodded absently. “He opens the car door for her. He even helps her out of the car.”
“The patient?”
“Scooter.” House looked back over his shoulder and scowled at Foreman.
“Oh, well, that explains everything, just not about our patient....” Foreman walked closer to the edge of the balcony. He looked over until he could see Cuddy waving to a car that was just pulling away, then turning to walk toward the entrance. He recognized the car heading toward the employee lot as Henry’s; he was going to have to hurry if he wanted to be on time.
“What is the explanation?” House said quietly.
“Um...poisoning,” Foreman reminded him.
“Not the patient.” House pushed up from the ledge and headed into the office.
“The patient is all we have to talk about,” Foreman said. He jerked his thumb back toward the balcony. “You lost this time. Get over it.”
“I didn’t lose....”
“Henry took a chance. He won. By default that means you lose.”
“I didn’t lose. Can’t lose if you don’t play.”
“Can’t win if you don’t play,” Foreman pointed out. House rolled his eyes as he dropped into his chair and held his hand out, waiting for the file. Foreman finally handed it over and took up a stance in front of the desk. He stared down at House, assessing his reactions. “Okay, maybe that’s not the game you’re playing. Maybe you’re just afraid of losing both your friends. Wilson’s dating Amber and Cuddy’s dating Henry and you are...not.”
“Two accidents waiting to happen.”
“Hey, I know,” Foreman said sarcastically. “Once you destroy those relationships, why don’t you get Wilson and Cuddy together? That way at least you wouldn’t have to worry about them taking off with anyone else.”
“Wilson’s too submissive, Cuddy’s too dominant.” House gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “The relationship would be a disaster. Except for the sex, obviously. That would be great.”
“You do realize I don’t actually care who Wilson or Cuddy dates? I don’t even care who you date. I’m just trying to get past your weird obsession so we can focus on the medicine.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” House asked. He rubbed at his forehead. “Fine. You finished running the new tox screens?”
“I’ve got Taub and Henry doing the last ones.”
“You left those two in a room together without supervision? Taub’s gonna get his ass kicked.” House tilted his head, his expression brightening as he tossed the file on the desk and pushed out of his chair. “This I gotta see.”
~~**~~
“Should I be frightened or flattered?” Henry asked as he walked up the steps to his front door. It was late and the dim porch light barely put out enough illumination to see House standing in the shadows.
“Of what?” House asked.
“Of your presence here, waiting for me after a date. It’s my understanding you only do that to Cuddy and Wilson.”
“Speaking of Cuddy and dates, are you aware of the time?”
“I’m twenty-one, remember? I’m allowed to stay out late.” Henry opened the door and turned on the overhead light as he entered his condo. House moved stiffly as he followed, closing the door behind him. Henry tossed his coat over the back of an easy chair and turned to House, his hands on his hips. “Seriously, House, what is this about?”
“This is about the fact that you’re going to break Cuddy’s heart.”
“I’m not going to....”
“You can’t give her what she wants,” House interrupted.
“And you can?” Henry asked, skeptical.
“Didn’t say I could. Said you can’t.” House walked slowly across the room, taking in the simple furnishings, the full bookshelves, the really nice plasma screen TV. “You’re divorced, right? Got kids.”
Henry merely nodded. There was no point denying what was in his personnel file. House had surely mined that for whatever blackmail gold he could find.
“Not planning to do it again, are you?”
“Marriage, possibly,” Henry said. “Kids, no. I’m too old for that.”
“Which is why you can’t give Cuddy what she wants. You’ve already done it.”
“You know, we’ve only been dating a few months. It’s a little early to talk about....”
“On the contrary, it’s probably too late,” House said, speaking over Henry as he paced back across the room. “See, despite Cuddy’s clever disguise as soul-eating bureaucrat, she is actually a romantic. And you are...charming. Courteous. An old-fashioned gentleman. She’ll fall for you. Probably already has. So when you do get around to talking about where this thing is going, she’s only going to have two choices. She can break off the relationship, which will break her heart. Or she can let her dream of having a family die, which will kill her spirit.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little melodramatic?” Henry dismissed House’s concerns with a shrug and walked into his kitchen. House invited himself to follow. Henry poured himself a drink of water and waited for House to leave. But when he turned back, House was still there, shoulders hunched as he stood in the doorway. “What difference does it make to you if Lisa and I don’t work out? I thought you didn’t care about people. And if you don’t care about people, you shouldn’t care about their relationships.”
“I don’t,” House agreed. “I do care about me, and Cuddy’s a bitch in heat on a good day. When she’s been dumped...she takes us all to a whole new level of hell.”
“So which is it, House?”
“What?”
“You don’t want her to get dumped but you told me to dump her.” Henry stared at House, his expression challenging. “So which do you want?”
“It’s....” House scratched at his head as he fumbled for a logical response. “The dumping is inevitable. Sooner would be less painful.”
“Great. Thanks for the advice.” Henry set his glass in the sink and turned off the kitchen light as he left the room. “Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave.”
~~**~~
House nudged Wilson with the remote when a loud pounding rattled his front door. “Get that.”
“You said you’d pay for the pizza this week.”
“I would but my wallet’s in my other pants,” House said.
“Which are just down the hall in your bedroom,” Wilson complained.
“Cripple,” House pointed out cheerfully but he needn’t have bothered with an explanation; Wilson was already on his feet and headed for the door. When Wilson opened the door, House’s expression changed quickly as Wilson jumped back like someone had pointed a gun in his face. Which, given House’s history, was entirely possible. Instead, Cuddy shoved rudely past Wilson and headed straight for House. Cuddy wasn’t nearly as scary as a gun but he found himself checking for escape routes anyway.
“Wow,” House said. “I ordered pizza and porn but I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Shut up, you bastard,” Cuddy said. She was dressed casually, sloppily even, in faded jeans and plain t-shirt. More telling than her lack of fashion forward garb was the puffy redness of her eyes. “Making my professional life hell wasn’t enough? Interfering with my dates wasn’t enough? You had to ruin the only decent relationship I’ve had in years?”
“What?” Wilson said, shocked. He turned his gaze on House. “What?”
“If Scooter decided the relationship wasn’t working, it’s got nothing to do with me,” House said. Cuddy stared at him, speechless . House shifted uncomfortably on the couch, then raised his eyes to hers again. “Since you’re not jumping Scooter anymore, can I fire him?”
Cuddy’s mouth dropped open, freshly outraged. “Is that what this is about? I invaded your little fiefdom and you destroy my life in revenge?”
“I didn’t destroy your life,” House shot back scornfully. “He’s just one more bad date, and god knows you’ve had enough of those.”
“He wasn’t like the others. I was happy with him.”
“You just thought you were happy.”
“And you would know, because you’re the expert on being happy,” Cuddy said with bitter sarcasm. House looked away, seeking Wilson’s support but Wilson met his gaze with a stony expression. House reluctantly turned his eyes back to Cuddy, cringing slightly at the stark misery on her face.
“Stay out of my personal life or I’m getting a restraining order,” she said.
“Like I’d ever pay attention to that,” House said, but his bravado fell flat. Cuddy stared at him for a moment longer, her mouth working soundlessly. Then she turned and stomped out the door. House and Wilson both flinched when it slammed shut behind her.
“Wow. Guess that whole ‘woman scorned’ thing is for real.” House settled back on the couch. He looked up, puzzled when Wilson didn’t join him. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” Wilson said as he grabbed his jacket. “Now that you’ve succeeded in destroying Cuddy’s love life, you’ll be able to focus on destroying mine.”
“Oh, for....” House threw his hands up. “What do you think I’m going to do?”
“Don’t know, but I’m going home. Gonna dig a bomb shelter,” Wilson said. “Lay in a few months of supplies.”
House let out an exasperated noise but it was wasted; Wilson was already gone.
~~**~~
“Everyone find a place to hide,” House said as he barged into his office. He headed straight to his desk and began rattling through the drawers as his staff looked on in confusion. “I call dibs on the morgue.”
“Why...?” Taub began, glancing at the others for explanation. Henry, seated in front of House’s desk, merely turned to the next page in the sports section. Foreman was slumped in the chair next to him.
“Because we haven’t turned our patient’s poisoner over to the cops. When Cuddy finds out, she’ll be livid.” House grabbed his Gameboy, slammed the drawer shut, and stood up to find three blank stares, the sports section, and Foreman’s yawn. “Seriously. Livid. It’s not pretty.”
“So why don’t we just call the cops?” Kutner asked.
“Because Daddy thinks Junior is just confused and not a homicidal maniac,” House said as he shoved his toys in his jacket pocket.
“What makes you think it’s the son?” Henry asked, peering over the top of his newspaper. “Is his name Oedipus?”
“I wish,” House said, pulling his Vicodin vial from his other pocket. “We would’ve solved this case a lot sooner if it had been.”
“Why would the son poison the dad?” Taub asked.
“Apparently the son objected to the affair Daddy was having.” House gave Taub a hard stare. “You don’t have any sons, do you?”
Taub raised his eyes to the heavens with a pleading look before returning his gaze to House. “If it’s over an affair, why didn’t the kid poison the mistress?”
“Maybe because he’s a nut job?” Foreman suggested sarcastically.
“Because he didn’t have access to her the way he did to his dad,” Kutner said.
Henry sighed from behind the newspaper. “He didn’t poison the mistress because she wasn’t the one cheating on his mom.”
“Too bad,” House said. “Because that would’ve been interesting.”
“It’s not interesting,” Thirteen said disdainfully. “It’s pathetic.”
“Whatever,” House said as he shoved his pills back in his jacket pocket and snatched his cane from where it was hanging on the edge of the desk.
“Still, why not just call the cops?” Kutner asked again.
House rolled his eyes at Kutner’s lack of understanding. “Because the patient asked me not to. He even said please.”
“So...have Cuddy do it,” Kutner suggested. “Then everyone’s covered.”
“And then we can listen to her screech at us for dumping our responsibilities on her,” House said.
“Better than listening to her screech because those responsibilities didn’t get met,” Kutner pointed out.
“Fine,” House said impatiently. “I nominate Scooter to tell Cuddy.” He pulled an exaggerated face of concern as he looked over at Henry. “Oh, wait, that’s right--you don’t have the ‘bang your way out of jail free’ card anymore.”
Thirteen looked between the two men, confused. Henry merely stared at House for a moment, his face impassive in the face of House’s mockery. “Fine. I’ll call Cuddy and tell her you don’t want to defy a patient’s wishes.”
“Excellent,” House said, striding rapidly out the door. “The rest of you--to the Bat Cave.”
“Bat Cave?” Taub asked, looking around in bewilderment.
“Wilson’s office,” Foreman explained as he grabbed a couple of charts from the corner of House’s desk and took them into the conference room. Kutner and Thirteen looked at each other with uncertainty, then slowly followed House.
Taub lingered behind, giving Henry a sideways look. He cleared his throat, then cleared it again and said with what sounded like genuine sympathy, “House didn’t need to do that.”
Henry glanced up, then shrugged. “It’s House, so yes, he did need to do that.”
~~**~~
Cuddy let herself through the door to Exam room Two, looking worn. Even her clothes seemed to lack a certain vibrancy that usually marked her fashion choices. She was buried so deeply in her own head that it took a moment before she realized she wasn’t alone. “Sorry, I....” She froze in place, not moving again until the sound of the door shutting prompted her back into action. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”
“It’s okay.” Henry was leaning against the counter, papers spread in front of him. “I’m just finishing a few charts.”
“I’ll only be a second. Exam One is out of hemoccult cards.” She opened a drawer and leaned over, acutely aware of Henry’s gaze. Naturally, the fact she wanted to hurry meant it took her twice as long to find what she needed as it should have.
“I hope this isn’t going to be one of those break-ups where we have to pretend we don’t know each other and our friends aren’t allowed to talk to each other,” Henry said. “I don’t want to have to ask the principal to move my locker so we don’t have to walk down the same hall.”
“Shut up,” she said but there was just the slightest upturn at the corners of her mouth as she shoved a few cards in the pocket of her lab coat. She pulled a pen from that pocket and twisted it in her hands for a moment before turning to face Henry. “Why’d you have to listen to House?”
“He was right.”
“No,” Cuddy insisted. “He’s not right. He’s always right about medicine but he’s rarely right about love.”
“This time he was.” Henry let out a sigh. “I should’ve known what you wanted and I didn’t.”
“Did you ever think maybe you should ask me what I want?” She tapped herself on the chest. “Me, not House.”
“Lisa, you made it possible for me to live my dream. I don’t want to be the one who takes your dream away.” Henry grasped her lightly by the upper arms and looked into her eyes, and for the first time his face looked old to her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one to...well, be the one. I’m sorry it had to work out this way.”
“It didn’t have to,” she insisted although they’d been through this before.
“Yeah, it did.” Henry gave her a rueful smile as he slid his hands down her arms to grasp her hands. “I wish I were twenty years younger. Or that I’d met you twenty years ago.”
“Right man, wrong time: story of my life,” Cuddy muttered.
“If it’s not the right time, it can’t be the right man.” Henry leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. He pulled back with a wistful smile on his face. “We had a good time, though, didn’t we?”
“That’s what makes this so hard,” she said as pulled her hands from his grasp and left the room.
~~**~~
“No.”
House paused in the doorway to Cuddy’s office and looked around, searching for evidence there was someone else in the room she might be refusing. He couldn’t see under her desk but other than that remote--but incredibly hot--possibility, the room was empty but for the two of them.
“I said no,” she repeated just as he opened his mouth. He frowned at her, then forged ahead with an exasperated shake of his head.
“What is it about ‘no’ you don’t understand?” Cuddy finally looked up as House reached the front of her desk.
“Pretty much all of it.” House set his cane aside and leaned both hands on the desk. “Especially since I haven’t asked a question yet.”
“You haven’t done a lick of work all day so you can’t have any professional questions,” she said briskly. “And anything personal is off limits.”
“You’re crimping my style.”
“That’s not all I’d like to crimp.”
House winced reflexively, then shook a finger at her. “I did you a favor.”
“You did yourself a favor,” she snapped back. She stood up and leaned her hands on her side of the desk, leaning forward until their noses were just inches apart.
“Scooter was all wrong for you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You were going to give up on the things you want,” House said in an accusing tone.
“You know, sometimes when you fall in love....” Cuddy’s gaze was so direct that House faltered. He stepped back from the desk, his own eyes searching out something less threatening to look at because he suddenly had the feeling she wasn’t just talking about Henry anymore. “When you fall in love, you stop caring about what you want for yourself. What you should want or could want. All you care about it that person and whether you can give him what he wants.”
“That’s a foolishly romantic way of thinking,” he said in a low voice. “And it will always end in pain.”
“Apparently.” Cuddy finally released him from the intensity of her stare, her voice carrying a weight of disappointment. She settled behind her desk and picked up her pen. House watched her bow her head over the reams of paper that made up the only life she really had left.
He turned and walked out the door.
~~**~~
“You’ve been scarce lately,” House observed as he and Wilson walked toward the hospital parking lot in the fading glow of day.
“Amber and I have entered the witness protection program,” Wilson said without missing a beat. “Actually, it’s a special secret branch of the witness protection program: the House protection program. It’s funded by the CIA. Apparently there are several foreign nationals also looking to escape your wrath.”
“Wrath? What wrath?” House’s gait faltered slightly as his attention was capture by something behind Wilson.
Wilson turned to look, shaking his head when he saw Cuddy walking alone to her car at the other end of the parking lot. “You should apologize to her.”
“I was doing her....”
“A favor. I know that’s what you think. It’s not what she thinks,” Wilson said. “You should apologize.”
“I’m not going to,” House said stubbornly. “He was bedding Cuddy, for crying out loud. If he let me talk him into dumping her, he’s an idiot.”
“He probably believed you.”
“He should. I was right.”
“You don’t know that.” Wilson gave an exasperated sigh and planted one hand on his hip. “Even if you were right, even if their relationship was doomed to fail, how and when it ended wasn’t your call to make.”
“I didn’t make it.”
Wilson shook his head as he reached into his pocket for his car keys.
House watched him, assessing. “So...Thursday night? Poker?”
“The CIA guys get pretty touchy about me spending time with the person from whom they’re trying to protect me.”
“Seriously, do I have to invoke the custody agreement to get you out for a night?”
“Amber revoked the custody agreement,” Wilson said. “You know, before you could revoke Amber.”
House let out a disgusted huff of air. “I am not a homicidal maniac.”
“No, just a maniac.” Wilson hesitated as he opened his car door. He glanced back over his shoulder at House. “Saturday night. Bowling. And you apologize to Cuddy. And you stay away from Amber.”
“Deal,” House muttered reluctantly. Wilson nodded and got into his car. House watched him drive away until the tail lights got lost in traffic. Then he pulled his hand from behind his back and looked down at his crossed fingers with a smile.
“What’s he doing here?” Taub asked the second House walked through the door of the conference room. House paused just long enough to take in the ‘he’ in question, who was seated at the end of the table looking on with a benign smile, before continuing on his quest for coffee.
“You didn’t tell them?” House asked Henry.
“I thought I’d leave that pleasure to you.”
“What pleasure?” Taub demanded, twisting around in his seat to talk to House as he passed behind Taub. Kutner, Thirteen and Foreman--who had been entertaining themselves by watching Taub grow twitchier with each passing minute--were now watching House and waiting for a response.
“Scooter here worked out a special deal with our beloved Dean of Medicine.” House’s tone was just as suggestive as he could make it. He turned to face the group, holding the coffee cup with one hand and dumping in the contents of a sugar packet with the other. “He is now a legally licensed doctor of medicine. And lucky us, he’s our new resident.”
“You don’t accept residents,” Kutner pointed out. The others, including Taub and Henry, stared at him and wondered at the level of Kutner’s stupidity. Or bravery. They hadn’t reached a consensus on which it was yet.
“I don’t,” House agreed in a tone so calm it made even Foreman start to twitch. “Wasn’t my choice.”
“You got Cuddy to override House?” Thirteen asked Henry.
“Come on,” Henry scoffed. “Do you think I’d be here if House really didn’t want me here?”
In response, all three of the new fellows threw not-so-subtle glances at Foreman. Foreman rolled his eyes; months after his return and he was still viewed as the unwanted stepchild.
Henry took in the response and merely made a dismissive shrug. “That’s different.”
“Not really,” House interjected as he sat down at the other end of the table. “Cuddy took one of my testicles when she hired Foreman and the other when she hired you. If she keeps going at this rate, I’m going to have to find a new hobby to occupy my Saturday nights. Which means Cuddy is going to have to find a new hobby to fill her Saturday nights.”
“I’m sure the internet porn sites will suffer significant profit loss this quarter as a result,” Foreman said dryly. “But your personal crisis aside--where’s the harm in having another mind at work on the problem?”
“Too many cooks spoil the broth,” House said.
“No man is an island,” Foreman shot back.
“He who laughs last, laughs longest,” House countered.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Foreman said as he and House stared at each other.
“Wait...so if he’s our resident, does that mean we get to make him do our scut work?” Kutner’s expression brightened but only because he was oblivious to the exchange between House and Foreman.
House stared down to the opposite end of the table with a smug grin for Henry. “What else are residents for?”
~~**~~
“Well, you survived the first month,” Cuddy said as she led Henry into her office. “How’s it going?”
“When House is occupied by a case, he doesn’t have much time to harass me,” Henry said. “When he’s bored...well, he’s got four other people to humiliate. He can’t waste it all on me.”
“So many insults, so little time?” Cuddy asked dryly. She dropped a stack of folders on the corner of her desk before sinking into her chair with a sigh. “Seriously, how is it?”
“It’s fine,” Henry assured her. “House and I think too much alike for him to really nail me on the medical stuff. And I learn more in a week with him than I would anywhere else. I’m happy with the situation even if he isn’t.”
“He is.” Cuddy opened a folder and took up her pen. “He likes you. He respects you. Once he gets over being mad at me for hiring you, he’ll be happy with the situation.”
“When will he get over being mad at you for hiring me?”
“Oh...probably never,” Cuddy admitted.
Henry took the news with a chuckle. He turned to leave, then stopped. He stood, silent, for a few moments before he turned back to face her. “So, I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me?”
Cuddy looked up from her desk, peering at Henry with a puzzled look. “You mean...like a date?”
“Yes, like a date. I thought it would be okay now that I’m not your assistant. At least from a legal standpoint.”
“I...um....” Distracted, she set her pen aside and reached up to push her hair back from her face.
“It’s okay if you say no,” Henry continued calmly. “I just thought.... Well, no harm in asking, right?”
“No,” Cuddy said. “I mean….” She shook her head, rattled by Henry’s question. “I mean yes, I think I’d like to have dinner with you.”
“Really?” For the first time in the conversation, Henry looked a little rattled himself. In fact, it was one of the few times in nearly a year of knowing him that Cuddy had ever seen Henry look rattled. It was kind of nice to know that she’d accomplished what House couldn’t. Although the fact she hadn’t been trying to accomplish it did lessen the victory somewhat.
“Yes, really,” she assured him.
“Great.” Henry had a big smile on his face as he nodded to her. “Saturday okay? I know a great restaurant. You’ll love it, I promise.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
~~**~~
“So what did you have to do to get this job?” Kutner asked Henry.
“Or who,” Taub muttered under his breath.
“Want to watch where you’re putting that scope?” Henry said with a pointed look at Taub. Taub muttered something under his breath but turned his focus back to the endoscope he was guiding through the patient’s colon.
Henry glanced over at Kutner and Thirteen and shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. Honestly, I’d already made contact with a few other residency programs when Dr. Cuddy offered me the position.”
“You had to know it would piss off House.” Kutner reached up to angle the monitor to where Taub could see it more clearly, then glanced back at Henry. Henry merely nodded in agreement. Of course he’d known House wouldn’t like it. But then House didn’t like much of what happened in the hospital. Henry hadn’t planned to miss an opportunity just because it didn’t meet with House’s approval, especially when it was exactly the opportunity he’d wanted.
“Come on, he’s here to harass and humiliate us, just like Foreman,” Taub said.
“Didn’t say anything about humiliation in my contract,” Henry said. He reached over Kutner’s shoulder and tapped a spot on the monitor. “You should get a biopsy of that.”
“Biopsy of what? There’s nothing there.” Taub looked at Henry, and Henry simply stared back. Taub turned his head to look at Kutner and Thirteen, and they, too, merely stared back. “Come on. He just graduated medical school. We’re really going to start listening to him?”
“Just do the biopsy,” Thirteen said with a sigh.
~~**~~
“So how did you find this place?” Cuddy asked as the waiter cleared away the scant remains of their meal. She gave an airy wave, encompassing the main dining room of the restaurant, before turning back to her dinner companion. “The décor is gorgeous and the food is wonderful but from the outside this place looks like....”
“Like a dump, I know.” Henry nodded and took a sip of wine. He and Cuddy were seated at a small, round table. The flame of an ivory pillar candle cast a soft glow on their faces as they leaned toward each other. There were a number of other small, round tables in the restaurant, spaced in such a way as to maintain the illusion of privacy, even intimacy. The lighting was low and warm and the noise level rarely rose above a muted hum. It was definitely a setting for lovers, and for possibly soon to be lovers.
Henry gestured toward the entrance and the proprietor, an old friend of his, waved back. “The owners like to keep it exclusive. I like it that way, too. It certainly helps avoid House detection.”
“Please, House is too busy protecting his investment in Wilson to do any detecting,” Cuddy scoffed. She waved off the dessert menu and waited until the waiter had left them alone again before continuing in a low voice. “He wouldn’t notice if I started dating the cast of ‘The L Word’.”
“I think he’d notice that,” Henry said with a wry smile. “Just like he’ll eventually notice we had a date. “
“And then he’ll make my life miserable, sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong,” Cuddy agreed with a casual shrug.
“You like that he’s jealous,” Henry said, his voice carrying a subtle hint of challenge.
“I don’t like that he’s jealous...exactly,” Cuddy said after a thoughtful pause. “It’s just his weird way of showing he cares. After all the time and energy I’ve invested in him, yes, I like to know that it means something to him.”
“Fair enough,” Henry said. He held his wine glass by the stem, twirling it and watching the liquid swirl. He glanced back up at Cuddy. “I can’t help but wonder what you’re doing here, though.”
“I’m here because you asked me.”
“You said yes. Why?”
“Why did you ask me?” Cuddy gave a little shake of her head. She got enough head games on the job with House. She was off the clock now, and away from House. “I said yes because you interest me.”
“Because I’m like House?” Henry shrugged when Cuddy gave him a puzzled look. “It’s what some people would think.”
“Is that what you think?” Cuddy toyed with her wine glass a moment then pushed it aside. “The fact that I might have been attracted to House and that I am attracted to you now isn’t because you’re a House substitute. You both happen to share some qualities I admire. I respect those qualities in House; I respect them in you. That doesn’t mean I see the two of you the same.”
“But you do think we’re similar?” Henry prompted.
“You both have that non-linear way of thinking. It’s annoying but it’s amazing, too.”
“It’s not non-linear thinking.” Henry leaned forward, shaking his head. “House simply follows a different line to the answer. Everyone starts at point A and ends up at point B. Except House, who ends up at point Q. The thing is, he didn’t jump to that point, he followed a very specific route to the answer. It only looks like he’s pulling it out of his ass because he doesn’t explain his thought process.”
“And you can follow his process. Hell, you don’t even need to follow, you take a parallel path at the same time because you have that ability to see what other people don’t. I envy that.”
“You shouldn’t. You’re a very intelligent woman.”
“Give me a list of textbook symptoms and I can make the diagnosis. But if it’s not textbook, if it requires a little creative thinking, I can’t do it.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Henry said. “Sometimes following a different path gets you lost.”
“Like following a different path gets you thinking I’m looking for a House substitute,” Cuddy pointed out. She gave Henry a small, warning shake of her head. “I’m not looking for anything more than to get to know you better.”
Henry held up his wine glass, tipping it toward her. “I’ll drink to that.”
~~**~~
“What’s the differential for my fraudulent resident needing a nap?”
House capped his marker and took his cane from where it was hooked over the top of the whiteboard. His fellows stopped in the middle of discussing their new patient and glanced at Henry, momentarily disconcerted by the abrupt change of topic.
“It’s a plasmacytoma,” Henry said. He was slouched in his chair at the end of the table, his expression bored.
“Of course it is,” House said.
“It is?” Kutner asked.
“Obviously, which is why it’s not the differential I’m interested in at this moment.”
“What does it matter?” Thirteen asked as she began to shuffle the pages of lab results back into the file. “He was obviously paying attention or he wouldn’t have gotten the right diagnosis.”
“He got the right diagnosis two minutes into the differential, just like I did,” House said impatiently. “The rest of the time he’s been in la la land.” House turned a sharp-eyed look on Henry. “So what was it? Did PBS play a late night episode of Lawrence Welk last night?”
“Sinatra retrospective,” Henry said calmly. “Didn’t get over until 8:30, which is way past my bedtime.”
“Who was she?” House asked. “Obviously not one of the blue-haired brigade. A man who looks as happy and exhausted as you do is obviously getting it on with a much younger woman.”
“Great,” Taub said sarcastically as he shoved his pen in his breast pocket. “Just what the world needs: another old fart banging some young undergrad.”
“She’s not an undergrad.”
“Grad student?” Kutner asked, sounding almost hopeful.
“Does she know you’re poor?” House asked. “More to the point, does she know you’re not a real doctor?”
“Doesn’t seem to be an issue even though she is both a doctor and well-paid herself,” Henry said.
“Seriously?” Thirteen asked. She gave him a fleeting half smile. “Good for you.”
“Yeah, good for you,” House said. His expression had suddenly gone all too serious. “Bad for lonely forty-year-old hospital administrators.”
The three fellows looked at each other, their faces shaded with uncertainty. Kutner squirmed in his seat, his eyes darting suspiciously between Henry and House. Taub squinted at the ceiling as he tried to picture how the pieces fit. “Do you mean...?” he began.
“He doesn’t mean anything,” Henry said, his impassive stare fixed on House.
House grimaced a smile. “Right. I don’t know what I’m talking about at all.” He glanced at the others. “Go scan the patient’s spine, then page Wilson when you find the plasmacytoma.”
The room fell silent as the three fellows shuffled out. Henry remained seated and House gave him a probing look before he turned to erase the white board. “Bad idea, banging your boss.”
“Interesting observation coming from you,” Henry said calmly. “Especially given that you’re my boss.”
“Technically, Cuddy’s everyone’s boss.”
“Technically, she’s not my direct supervisor therefore we’re not violating the code of conduct.”
“Bet that’s the only thing you’re not violating.”
“She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman and I enjoy her company,” Henry said as he got up and pushed his chair under the table. He slid his hands in his pockets as he regarded House somberly. “And you don’t give a crap about what’s bad for me and you generally don’t care what’s bad for Dr. Cuddy. You think this is bad for you.”
House set the eraser down very slowly, then he shifted his cane to his right hand as he abruptly faced Henry. “Does she make you call her Dr. Cuddy in bed? Or did you skip the formalities and go straight to Mistress?”
Henry shook his head at House’s attempt to avoid the real issue. “I’m not playing games with her, House.”
“Everyone plays games,” House said as he walked heavily toward his office.
~~**~~
“He’s twice your age,” House argued.
Frustrated by the way he was following her around her office, Cuddy stopped in her tracks and turned on him. “He’s not twice my age. Besides, all the men my age are married, gay….” She gave House a pointed look. “Or jerks.”
“You like him,” House said, suddenly hesitant as she walked behind her desk.
“Imagine that.”
“No, I mean...you actually like him,” House said, perplexed.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“He’s old and wrinkly and bald.”
“He’s mature. He’s also intelligent, charming, and he doesn’t need pills to be able to interact with the rest of the human race.”
“So you’re dating him because he’s a wimpier version of me?”
“He’s a better version of you.” Cuddy sat at her desk and stared at House, her expression defiant. “He’s you without the anger and the self-loathing and the inappropriate comments about my wardrobe. Henry has all your good qualities, and none of the bad ones.”
“He’s only doing you to repay the fake degree you gave him.” Even House recognized it was a lame attempt at retaliation. Unfortunately it was the best he could come up with at the moment. “The fact you don’t realize that makes you even more pathetic than usual.”
“Go take care of your patient.”
“Not my patient anymore. It’s Wilson’s.”
“Then go find a new patient,” Cuddy said, her hands flying out in exasperation. “Stop sticking your nose in my business.”
“Your business is my business.”
“No. It’s not. I know this is hard for you to accept but who I date, who I sleep with, who I fantasize about is none of your business. Never has been, never will be.”
“You fantasize about Scooter?” House asked, face scrunched up in disgust.
“Out!”
~~**~~
Henry glanced up from the microscope and looked over his shoulder when he heard the door to the lab open. Thirteen gave a little wave as she crossed the room and took a seat on the other side of the lab table.
“Need some help?” she asked, settling on the stool.
“It’s scut work,” he pointed out. Kutner and Taub had been all too happy to hand off the lab work to him. What they didn’t realize was that he enjoyed it. It was still medicine, after all, and he’d been waiting thirty years to do it.
“Yeah,” she agreed as she reached for a slide. “But until we get the results there’s nothing else to do.”
“I take it Taub and Kutner drew the job of breaking into the patient’s home.”
“Taub and Foreman, actually. I think Kutner’s doing House’s clinic hours.” She raised her eyes from the lenses and stared at him for a moment before lowering her head again.
“Just ask.” Henry’s words were slightly muffled because he hadn’t bothered to lift his head from the microscope.
“It’s none of my business.”
“And yet everyone’s talking about it.”
“Not everyone,” Thirteen said. She set the slide aside with a shake of her head to indicate it had showed nothing of interest. She reached across the table and took the next one, then waited for Henry to slide the bottle of stain to her side of the table. “Kutner talks about it. Taub just grinds his teeth a lot. Foreman doesn’t seem to care and House doesn’t have anything to say about it.”
“House has plenty to say about it. He just isn’t saying it.”
“Is that why you did it?”
“To annoy House?” Henry asked, seeking clarification. When Thirteen nodded, he smiled to himself, shaking his head. “I have no special reason to annoy House. Yes, he fired me but he had to. No, he wasn’t happy when Dr. Cuddy hired me, when she got recognition for my med school courses or when she assigned me to his department.” Henry shrugged. It was all water off his back. “But that’s between House and Cuddy. It really has very little to do with me.”
“So you’re just a pawn in their power struggle and you didn’t sleep your way into the job?” Thirteen asked with an amused look.
“Sleep my way into the job?” Henry chuckled and leaned back, waving a hand at himself. “Have you seen Dr. Cuddy? Do you see me? How could anyone possibly believe she’s so hard up she would want or need sexual favors from me?”
“Maybe you’re just that good,” she said with a sly smile.
“I am,” Henry said, winking at her. Thirteen shook her head but she was smiling. “But that had nothing to do with it. Everything was strictly professional between us while I was her assistant. I waited until a month after I became House’s resident to ask her out.”
“Wow,” Thirteen said dryly. “A whole month?”
“Hey, at my age a month is like a year,” Henry said, bending over the microscope again.
Thirteen sat, her body still as she thought. “You don’t want to let an opportunity pass you by.”
“Not anymore. If I did, I wouldn’t be a doctor right now,” Henry agreed. Thirteen nodded, then reached for the next slide.
~~**~~
Henry opened the door to a little used storeroom around the corner from the morgue. To his surprise, the overhead light was already on. The single dim bulb did little to illuminate his surroundings but it provided enough light to see his boss’s boss in the room, on her knees digging through boxes on the lowest level of the metal shelving unit.
“Lisa?”
Cuddy startled, then sat back on her heels as she looked up. “Henry? What are you doing down here?”
“House sent me on a wild goose chase…or so I thought.” Henry held his hand out and helped Cuddy to her feet. Her hand lingered in his as she reached down with her other hand to brush some dust from the hem of her skirt. “What are you doing here?”
“The real question is what are the Dean of Medicine and a ridiculously old fraud doing together in a storage closet?” House was standing in the doorway with a slightly smug and definitely expectant air.
“The compliance hotline got a tip that someone’s been using this closet to stash expired dialysate fluid and then giving it to indigent patients,” Cuddy told Henry. Then she turned a glare on House. “Apparently I misread the signature on the tip, though. It wasn’t anonymous, it was anonym-ass.”
“It’s a good idea, though. We throw gallons of perfectly good dialysate away every week.”
“It’s not perfectly good--it’s expired. We can’t use expired medications on anyone,” Cuddy said, her hand slipping from Henry’s grasp as she advanced on House. “We especially can’t use expired medications on the poor.”
“Right, because it’s better, and more economical, to just let the poor die,” House said sarcastically.
Cuddy smacked him on the arm. “What are you doing?”
“I think it’s obvious what he’s doing,” Henry said, standing just behind her.
“Nothing’s obvious with him,” she snapped as she looked over her shoulder at Henry. House looked over her shoulder as well and gave Henry a look that hinted at victory.
“He’s hoping to precipitate a scandal in the hope of splitting us up. “ Henry gave House a smile that said he’d see that victory and completely own House while he was at it. “Or maybe he was simply hoping to pick up a few pointers about what to do with a beautiful woman in a dark room.”
“As if,” House snorted, but he didn’t look so sure of himself any longer.
“Stop chasing geese and go do your real work,” Cuddy told Henry. He nodded, giving her elbow just the lightest touch as he passed. She turned on House as he tried to slip out the door after Henry. “You. Stay.”
“But what about my real work?” House whined.
“Your lackeys will do it, as usual.” Cuddy stepped closer. House backed away, step for step, until he thumped back against the closed door. She kept moving forward until he had to tuck his chin against his chest to look down into her eyes. “I told you to stay out of my personal life. I told you it’s none of your business.”
“Pshaw. You always say that, and you never mean it.”
“This time, I do,” Cuddy said. She nudged House out of the way and opened the door to leave. “Stay out.”
~~**~~
“You waited too long,” Wilson said. “Again.”
“I don’t want Cuddy,” House snapped as he followed Wilson through the lunch line. “I just don’t want Cuddy hemorrhaging bits of her broken heart all over the place. It’ll make the floor slippery and I’ve already got one bad leg.”
“Maybe he won’t break her heart.”
“Every man breaks Cuddy’s heart,” House scoffed.
“Even you?” Wilson sighed as House turned away from him, his silence answer enough. Wilson paid for his meal and picked up his tray. “Who’s to say Cuddy’s heart is on the line to begin with? Henry takes her dancing, they go to dinner, they have a little civilized conversation. They enjoy each other’s company. It’s not necessarily true love.”
“Cuddy always thinks it’s true love. She’s like you that way. Neither of you has the sense to avoid bad relationships.”
“Right, and you’re an expert on good relationships.”
“Don’t need to be. I’m an expert on her bad relationships.” House picked up his tray and followed Wilson to a table on the far side of the room. He dropped his tray on the table with apparent disregard for the safety of either the dishes or the food.
“I think Henry could be good for Cuddy,” Wilson said as he spread his napkin over his lap. “I think you think Henry could be good for Cuddy, too, which is why it bothers you so much.”
“You have no idea what I think,” House said harshly. “You don’t even have any idea what you think.”
“Yeah, I don’t know you at all.”
“You don’t.” House picked up his sandwich and took a huge bite.
“So you’re not going to show up outside Cuddy’s bedroom window in the middle of the night or cancel their dinner reservations or make Henry work extra shifts?”
“Duh.” House chewed with his mouth open, crumbs tumbling from his lips. Wilson averted his eyes in disgust. “Cuddy would be hurt if I didn’t.”
~~**~~
“Mr. Diarrhea is back,” Kutner announced as he sauntered into the conference room. Foreman stopped pouring coffee into his mug and looked over his shoulder at Kutner. Thirteen and Taub exchanged glances before looking down the table at House to gauge his response.
“Who?” House asked, looking up from his soap opera digest with a puzzled frown.
“The guy with the diarrhea. And the vomiting and the abdominal pain,” Kutner prompted.
“Half the people we see have vomiting and diarrhea,” House said as he flipped to the next page in his magazine. “I suspect it has something to do with the hospital food.”
“We discharged him less than a week ago,” Foreman said, finally holding a full cup of coffee. “He was better.”
“And now he’s worse.” Kutner handed the file to Foreman before he plopped down in the chair next to Thirteen.
“Henry probably missed something when he processed the biopsy slides,” Taub suggested.
“Don’t be coy,” House said in mock commiseration. “Just come right out and say you think he screwed up because he’s old and forgetful...and yet still smarter than you are.”
“Henry didn’t miss anything,” Thirteen interjected as Taub glowered resentfully at House. “I worked with him on the slides. There was nothing there to miss.”
“So you didn’t trust him to get it right either?” House asked.
“No, that’s not it,” Thirteen insisted, defiantly meeting House’s gaze. “I just thought we’d get the results faster if two people worked on it.”
“You like him,” House said, somewhat baffled by his own conclusion.
“No,” Kutner said. Then he looked at Thirteen. “Seriously?”
“He’s interesting. I enjoy working with him. Is that a crime?” she asked. Judging by Taub’s expression, yes, it was a crime. Kutner continued to look confused and Foreman pointedly ignored the entire conversation.
And House appeared to be plotting something. “Where is Scooter anyway?”
“I sent him to return some films to radiology,” Taub said.
“Well, page him.” House pushed up from his chair and headed for his office. “We need to find what we missed.”
~~**~~
“You have to help me get House off my back.” Cuddy walked rapidly down the third floor corridor, not slowing for a moment as she talked to Wilson. If anything, her agitation over the subject under discussion only made her walk faster.
“What do you want me to do? Throw Amber to the wolf?”
Cuddy looked up at Wilson with a pleading expression. “Would you?”
Wilson stopped and stared at her before giving an exasperated shake of his head when he realized she was almost, slightly, maybe just a little bit serious. “Hey, if it weren’t for the fact that you started dating Henry, House and Amber would still be filing their claws and hissing at each other. I admit it was amusing for a while but I’ve had enough. Besides, Henry can handle House.”
“So can Amber,” Cuddy said quickly as she turned to face Wilson. She relented when he gave her a stubborn look. She made a frustrated gesture with her hand. “I can’t get him to stop. He insists he’s doing me a favor.”
“Given his view of relationships, he probably thinks he is,” Wilson pointed out.
Cuddy let out a resigned sigh. “It’s annoying when he interferes with a blind date but I can deal with it. Those dates probably aren’t going to turn into anything anyway. But now…. I have to sneak out of the hospital when I have a date with Henry. I have to sneak out of my house. Or into my house. And House keeps catching me. What am I supposed to do?”
“Wear a disguise?” Wilson suggested. Cuddy scowled at him and he gave her an apologetic smile. “Listen, I know exactly what you’re going through. Amber and I went so far as to set up a custody agreement...which House ignored. The best you can hope for is that someone else’s love life will catch his attention.”
“He doesn’t seem to care about anyone else’s love life.”
“He would if Thirteen started dating Cameron,” Wilson suggested.
“Like that’ll happen,” Cuddy scoffed.
“Well, it doesn’t actually have to happen. There just has to be the suggestion that it’s happened.”
“You want me to start rumors that Thirteen and Cameron are having wild, lesbian sex?” Cuddy gave him an incredulous look despite the fact that she’d known Wilson to tell some tall tales before. Sometimes even without House’s provocation or encouragement. “That’s something House would do. You want me to sink to his level?”
“Your choice: take the high road and endure House’s relentless obsession or sink to his level and get some peace and quiet.”
“Those are my only two options?”
“It’s House,” Wilson confirmed with a nod.
~~**~~
“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” Henry and Cuddy were seated on the floor in front of his coffee table, open containers of Chinese take-out scattered in front of them. Cuddy was still wearing the skirt and blouse she’d worn to work that morning. Henry was still wearing the clothes he’d worn to work the morning before that. He’d removed his tie and his shoes and rolled up his sleeves, though, now that he was officially off House’s clock.
“I wasn’t going to let House ruin our evening,” Cuddy said.
“He did, though,” Henry said ruefully. “I promised you dinner and dancing. This is poor substitute.”
“I beg your pardon,” Cuddy said, affecting an offended look. “This is the finest Chinese take-out in, oh, probably ten miles. Five at least.” She broke open her fortune cookie and read the paper strip. “And wise, too. My fortune says I will find the perfect man sitting to my right.”
“Let me see that.” Henry reached for the fortune, skeptical.
“Nope.” Cuddy crumpled the paper up in her palm and tucked it in the deep V of her blouse, a taunting grin on her face. “It won’t come true if you see it.”
“It’s a fortune, not a birthday wish,” Henry said, but he leaned back and left her fortune alone...for the moment. “Okay, so the dinner was tolerable--although that was mostly due to the company--but we missed the dancing.”
Cuddy climbed to her bare feet, shoes long since abandoned, and held her hand out to Henry. “So let’s dance.”
“Now?” Henry chuckled but he took her hand and pushed himself off the floor. He walked over to an old stereo system, one that played actual LPs, and set the needle down on the vinyl. As the strains of Sinatra filtered through the speakers, slightly scratchy with age, Henry turned and extended his hand to her.
“You’re good at this,” Cuddy said a moment later. They slow-danced across the living room, Henry guiding them gracefully around obstacles like the coffee table where they’d shared their meal.
“Sure, but anyone can dance in the living room,” Henry said dismissively. He broke into a sly smile. “You should see me tango in the bathtub.”
“I don’t know about your tub tango, but you do a mean samba in the sheets.”
Henry’s smile softened as Cuddy rested her head against his shoulder. “But a man needs to be more than a dancing fool. I’m afraid your fortune cookie lied--I’m not a perfect man.”
“No, I lied.” Cuddy looked into his eyes, a soft smile on her lips. “My fortune actually said the perfect man was sitting to my left. But when I looked to my left there was no one there.”
“Not literally....”
“Stop it. House isn’t here literally or figuratively or any other way,” Cuddy said firmly. “There was no one sitting in the position of the perfect man because there is no such thing.” Cuddy hooked her arms around his s shoulders. “But there is such a thing as a good man. You’re a good man, Henry.”
“But I’m not House,” he reminded her.
Cuddy chuckled. “Thank god.”
~~**~~
“I get that you’re lonely,” Wilson said as he plopped down in the chair in front of House’s desk.
“I’m not lonely.”
“You are, and by choice. Which is okay if that’s what you really want. But you don’t need to make everyone else be lonely with you.”
“I’m not....” House began, scowling.
“Where was Henry last Friday night?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” House’s expression was pure innocence...except for the furtive shift of his eyes.
“Yes, you do. Because you knew Henry and Cuddy had a date Friday night only they didn’t have it because you had Henry chasing down some irrelevant and possibly even non-existent files.” Wilson crossed his arms over his chest and waited for an explanation.
“I needed him to do his job,” House insisted. “And if that means he has to miss a night of Cuddy-ling, well, then I saved him a couple bucks worth of Viagra.”
“I know why you’re doing this.”
“Oh, god,” House groaned. He grabbed his iPod and started rifling through his desk drawers looking for his earpieces.
“You only interfere in the love lives of two people: me and Cuddy,” Wilson went on, completely ignoring House’s reaction. “Normally, only one of us is having a love life at any given time so you’re free to concentrate on the lucky one.”
“Can you shut up and let me be the lucky one?”
“This time both Cuddy and I are in relationships. You don’t have time to harass both of us so you had to choose. You chose Cuddy, and I started wondering why that was.”
“Aw, is Jimmy feeling left out?” House gave up on finding his earphones and drew an X over his heart with mock solemnity. “I swear--I love you best.”
“That’s....” Wilson shook his finger at House. “Not what this is about. Yes, we’re best friends, and that relationship isn’t going to change. That relationship isn’t threatened. Doesn’t matter who we get involved with romantically, you and me are always going to be...us.”
“Eloquent and insightful as ever, Dr. Phil.” House nodded toward the door. “Can I go now?”
“But,” Wilson said emphatically. “Your relationship with Cuddy is threatened. At least, the relationship you wish you had with Cuddy is threatened. If she’s in love with Henry then she can’t be in love with you, and that bothers you.”
“I don’t want Cuddy.”
“You...want the possibility of wanting Cuddy.”
“Yeah,” House drawled. “Because I’m all about theoretical relationships.”
“Actually, you are.” Wilson sat forward, ready to expound on that theory but he was interrupted when Kutner and Thirteen walked in.
“Mr. Diarrhea has returned. Again,” Kutner told House as he and Thirteen stopped by the side of the desk.
“No,” House whined. “It’s sprue.”
“Apparently not, because he’s sick again. Sicker, even,” Thirteen said.
“He got better on the diet.” House paused, his face going slack as he thought. “No, he got better in the hospital.”
“So what do we do? Keep him in the hospital for the rest of his life?” Kutner asked.
“We’re not doing the right tests,” House said, frowning thoughtfully. “Did we screen him for toxins last time?”
“Yep,” Kutner said. “All negative.”
“What do we know about his personal life?”
“Nothing’s changed since the last time we admitted him. Married for twelve years, two kids,” Thirteen reported. “Worked for the same car dealership for the last ten years. Seems to be well liked.”
“Please,” House scoffed. “No one likes car salesmen.”
“Whatever,” Kutner said. “No one else at his home or his workplace is sick so whatever it is, he’s not getting it there.”
“Could be. Have we checked him for poison?”
“You think someone poisoned him?” Thirteen asked, incredulous. “Why? Because he didn’t give someone a good enough deal on their trade-in?”
“Or maybe God is doing a remake of the Bible and our patient’s the new Job,” House said. “My guess, though, is that someone a little less omniscient is behind his troubles.”
“We’ll start testing him,” Kutner said, and he and Thirteen headed toward the door without further discussion.
House started to turn away and noticed Wilson still sitting in the chair, eyes fixed on House. “Why are you still here?”
~~**~~
Foreman let himself out onto the balcony where House was leaning against the outer ledge and looking down at the front entrance of the hospital. He hesitated behind House, tapping the patient’s file against his thigh. “He’s being poisoned.”
House nodded absently. “He opens the car door for her. He even helps her out of the car.”
“The patient?”
“Scooter.” House looked back over his shoulder and scowled at Foreman.
“Oh, well, that explains everything, just not about our patient....” Foreman walked closer to the edge of the balcony. He looked over until he could see Cuddy waving to a car that was just pulling away, then turning to walk toward the entrance. He recognized the car heading toward the employee lot as Henry’s; he was going to have to hurry if he wanted to be on time.
“What is the explanation?” House said quietly.
“Um...poisoning,” Foreman reminded him.
“Not the patient.” House pushed up from the ledge and headed into the office.
“The patient is all we have to talk about,” Foreman said. He jerked his thumb back toward the balcony. “You lost this time. Get over it.”
“I didn’t lose....”
“Henry took a chance. He won. By default that means you lose.”
“I didn’t lose. Can’t lose if you don’t play.”
“Can’t win if you don’t play,” Foreman pointed out. House rolled his eyes as he dropped into his chair and held his hand out, waiting for the file. Foreman finally handed it over and took up a stance in front of the desk. He stared down at House, assessing his reactions. “Okay, maybe that’s not the game you’re playing. Maybe you’re just afraid of losing both your friends. Wilson’s dating Amber and Cuddy’s dating Henry and you are...not.”
“Two accidents waiting to happen.”
“Hey, I know,” Foreman said sarcastically. “Once you destroy those relationships, why don’t you get Wilson and Cuddy together? That way at least you wouldn’t have to worry about them taking off with anyone else.”
“Wilson’s too submissive, Cuddy’s too dominant.” House gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “The relationship would be a disaster. Except for the sex, obviously. That would be great.”
“You do realize I don’t actually care who Wilson or Cuddy dates? I don’t even care who you date. I’m just trying to get past your weird obsession so we can focus on the medicine.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” House asked. He rubbed at his forehead. “Fine. You finished running the new tox screens?”
“I’ve got Taub and Henry doing the last ones.”
“You left those two in a room together without supervision? Taub’s gonna get his ass kicked.” House tilted his head, his expression brightening as he tossed the file on the desk and pushed out of his chair. “This I gotta see.”
~~**~~
“Should I be frightened or flattered?” Henry asked as he walked up the steps to his front door. It was late and the dim porch light barely put out enough illumination to see House standing in the shadows.
“Of what?” House asked.
“Of your presence here, waiting for me after a date. It’s my understanding you only do that to Cuddy and Wilson.”
“Speaking of Cuddy and dates, are you aware of the time?”
“I’m twenty-one, remember? I’m allowed to stay out late.” Henry opened the door and turned on the overhead light as he entered his condo. House moved stiffly as he followed, closing the door behind him. Henry tossed his coat over the back of an easy chair and turned to House, his hands on his hips. “Seriously, House, what is this about?”
“This is about the fact that you’re going to break Cuddy’s heart.”
“I’m not going to....”
“You can’t give her what she wants,” House interrupted.
“And you can?” Henry asked, skeptical.
“Didn’t say I could. Said you can’t.” House walked slowly across the room, taking in the simple furnishings, the full bookshelves, the really nice plasma screen TV. “You’re divorced, right? Got kids.”
Henry merely nodded. There was no point denying what was in his personnel file. House had surely mined that for whatever blackmail gold he could find.
“Not planning to do it again, are you?”
“Marriage, possibly,” Henry said. “Kids, no. I’m too old for that.”
“Which is why you can’t give Cuddy what she wants. You’ve already done it.”
“You know, we’ve only been dating a few months. It’s a little early to talk about....”
“On the contrary, it’s probably too late,” House said, speaking over Henry as he paced back across the room. “See, despite Cuddy’s clever disguise as soul-eating bureaucrat, she is actually a romantic. And you are...charming. Courteous. An old-fashioned gentleman. She’ll fall for you. Probably already has. So when you do get around to talking about where this thing is going, she’s only going to have two choices. She can break off the relationship, which will break her heart. Or she can let her dream of having a family die, which will kill her spirit.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little melodramatic?” Henry dismissed House’s concerns with a shrug and walked into his kitchen. House invited himself to follow. Henry poured himself a drink of water and waited for House to leave. But when he turned back, House was still there, shoulders hunched as he stood in the doorway. “What difference does it make to you if Lisa and I don’t work out? I thought you didn’t care about people. And if you don’t care about people, you shouldn’t care about their relationships.”
“I don’t,” House agreed. “I do care about me, and Cuddy’s a bitch in heat on a good day. When she’s been dumped...she takes us all to a whole new level of hell.”
“So which is it, House?”
“What?”
“You don’t want her to get dumped but you told me to dump her.” Henry stared at House, his expression challenging. “So which do you want?”
“It’s....” House scratched at his head as he fumbled for a logical response. “The dumping is inevitable. Sooner would be less painful.”
“Great. Thanks for the advice.” Henry set his glass in the sink and turned off the kitchen light as he left the room. “Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave.”
~~**~~
House nudged Wilson with the remote when a loud pounding rattled his front door. “Get that.”
“You said you’d pay for the pizza this week.”
“I would but my wallet’s in my other pants,” House said.
“Which are just down the hall in your bedroom,” Wilson complained.
“Cripple,” House pointed out cheerfully but he needn’t have bothered with an explanation; Wilson was already on his feet and headed for the door. When Wilson opened the door, House’s expression changed quickly as Wilson jumped back like someone had pointed a gun in his face. Which, given House’s history, was entirely possible. Instead, Cuddy shoved rudely past Wilson and headed straight for House. Cuddy wasn’t nearly as scary as a gun but he found himself checking for escape routes anyway.
“Wow,” House said. “I ordered pizza and porn but I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Shut up, you bastard,” Cuddy said. She was dressed casually, sloppily even, in faded jeans and plain t-shirt. More telling than her lack of fashion forward garb was the puffy redness of her eyes. “Making my professional life hell wasn’t enough? Interfering with my dates wasn’t enough? You had to ruin the only decent relationship I’ve had in years?”
“What?” Wilson said, shocked. He turned his gaze on House. “What?”
“If Scooter decided the relationship wasn’t working, it’s got nothing to do with me,” House said. Cuddy stared at him, speechless . House shifted uncomfortably on the couch, then raised his eyes to hers again. “Since you’re not jumping Scooter anymore, can I fire him?”
Cuddy’s mouth dropped open, freshly outraged. “Is that what this is about? I invaded your little fiefdom and you destroy my life in revenge?”
“I didn’t destroy your life,” House shot back scornfully. “He’s just one more bad date, and god knows you’ve had enough of those.”
“He wasn’t like the others. I was happy with him.”
“You just thought you were happy.”
“And you would know, because you’re the expert on being happy,” Cuddy said with bitter sarcasm. House looked away, seeking Wilson’s support but Wilson met his gaze with a stony expression. House reluctantly turned his eyes back to Cuddy, cringing slightly at the stark misery on her face.
“Stay out of my personal life or I’m getting a restraining order,” she said.
“Like I’d ever pay attention to that,” House said, but his bravado fell flat. Cuddy stared at him for a moment longer, her mouth working soundlessly. Then she turned and stomped out the door. House and Wilson both flinched when it slammed shut behind her.
“Wow. Guess that whole ‘woman scorned’ thing is for real.” House settled back on the couch. He looked up, puzzled when Wilson didn’t join him. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” Wilson said as he grabbed his jacket. “Now that you’ve succeeded in destroying Cuddy’s love life, you’ll be able to focus on destroying mine.”
“Oh, for....” House threw his hands up. “What do you think I’m going to do?”
“Don’t know, but I’m going home. Gonna dig a bomb shelter,” Wilson said. “Lay in a few months of supplies.”
House let out an exasperated noise but it was wasted; Wilson was already gone.
~~**~~
“Everyone find a place to hide,” House said as he barged into his office. He headed straight to his desk and began rattling through the drawers as his staff looked on in confusion. “I call dibs on the morgue.”
“Why...?” Taub began, glancing at the others for explanation. Henry, seated in front of House’s desk, merely turned to the next page in the sports section. Foreman was slumped in the chair next to him.
“Because we haven’t turned our patient’s poisoner over to the cops. When Cuddy finds out, she’ll be livid.” House grabbed his Gameboy, slammed the drawer shut, and stood up to find three blank stares, the sports section, and Foreman’s yawn. “Seriously. Livid. It’s not pretty.”
“So why don’t we just call the cops?” Kutner asked.
“Because Daddy thinks Junior is just confused and not a homicidal maniac,” House said as he shoved his toys in his jacket pocket.
“What makes you think it’s the son?” Henry asked, peering over the top of his newspaper. “Is his name Oedipus?”
“I wish,” House said, pulling his Vicodin vial from his other pocket. “We would’ve solved this case a lot sooner if it had been.”
“Why would the son poison the dad?” Taub asked.
“Apparently the son objected to the affair Daddy was having.” House gave Taub a hard stare. “You don’t have any sons, do you?”
Taub raised his eyes to the heavens with a pleading look before returning his gaze to House. “If it’s over an affair, why didn’t the kid poison the mistress?”
“Maybe because he’s a nut job?” Foreman suggested sarcastically.
“Because he didn’t have access to her the way he did to his dad,” Kutner said.
Henry sighed from behind the newspaper. “He didn’t poison the mistress because she wasn’t the one cheating on his mom.”
“Too bad,” House said. “Because that would’ve been interesting.”
“It’s not interesting,” Thirteen said disdainfully. “It’s pathetic.”
“Whatever,” House said as he shoved his pills back in his jacket pocket and snatched his cane from where it was hanging on the edge of the desk.
“Still, why not just call the cops?” Kutner asked again.
House rolled his eyes at Kutner’s lack of understanding. “Because the patient asked me not to. He even said please.”
“So...have Cuddy do it,” Kutner suggested. “Then everyone’s covered.”
“And then we can listen to her screech at us for dumping our responsibilities on her,” House said.
“Better than listening to her screech because those responsibilities didn’t get met,” Kutner pointed out.
“Fine,” House said impatiently. “I nominate Scooter to tell Cuddy.” He pulled an exaggerated face of concern as he looked over at Henry. “Oh, wait, that’s right--you don’t have the ‘bang your way out of jail free’ card anymore.”
Thirteen looked between the two men, confused. Henry merely stared at House for a moment, his face impassive in the face of House’s mockery. “Fine. I’ll call Cuddy and tell her you don’t want to defy a patient’s wishes.”
“Excellent,” House said, striding rapidly out the door. “The rest of you--to the Bat Cave.”
“Bat Cave?” Taub asked, looking around in bewilderment.
“Wilson’s office,” Foreman explained as he grabbed a couple of charts from the corner of House’s desk and took them into the conference room. Kutner and Thirteen looked at each other with uncertainty, then slowly followed House.
Taub lingered behind, giving Henry a sideways look. He cleared his throat, then cleared it again and said with what sounded like genuine sympathy, “House didn’t need to do that.”
Henry glanced up, then shrugged. “It’s House, so yes, he did need to do that.”
~~**~~
Cuddy let herself through the door to Exam room Two, looking worn. Even her clothes seemed to lack a certain vibrancy that usually marked her fashion choices. She was buried so deeply in her own head that it took a moment before she realized she wasn’t alone. “Sorry, I....” She froze in place, not moving again until the sound of the door shutting prompted her back into action. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”
“It’s okay.” Henry was leaning against the counter, papers spread in front of him. “I’m just finishing a few charts.”
“I’ll only be a second. Exam One is out of hemoccult cards.” She opened a drawer and leaned over, acutely aware of Henry’s gaze. Naturally, the fact she wanted to hurry meant it took her twice as long to find what she needed as it should have.
“I hope this isn’t going to be one of those break-ups where we have to pretend we don’t know each other and our friends aren’t allowed to talk to each other,” Henry said. “I don’t want to have to ask the principal to move my locker so we don’t have to walk down the same hall.”
“Shut up,” she said but there was just the slightest upturn at the corners of her mouth as she shoved a few cards in the pocket of her lab coat. She pulled a pen from that pocket and twisted it in her hands for a moment before turning to face Henry. “Why’d you have to listen to House?”
“He was right.”
“No,” Cuddy insisted. “He’s not right. He’s always right about medicine but he’s rarely right about love.”
“This time he was.” Henry let out a sigh. “I should’ve known what you wanted and I didn’t.”
“Did you ever think maybe you should ask me what I want?” She tapped herself on the chest. “Me, not House.”
“Lisa, you made it possible for me to live my dream. I don’t want to be the one who takes your dream away.” Henry grasped her lightly by the upper arms and looked into her eyes, and for the first time his face looked old to her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one to...well, be the one. I’m sorry it had to work out this way.”
“It didn’t have to,” she insisted although they’d been through this before.
“Yeah, it did.” Henry gave her a rueful smile as he slid his hands down her arms to grasp her hands. “I wish I were twenty years younger. Or that I’d met you twenty years ago.”
“Right man, wrong time: story of my life,” Cuddy muttered.
“If it’s not the right time, it can’t be the right man.” Henry leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. He pulled back with a wistful smile on his face. “We had a good time, though, didn’t we?”
“That’s what makes this so hard,” she said as pulled her hands from his grasp and left the room.
~~**~~
“No.”
House paused in the doorway to Cuddy’s office and looked around, searching for evidence there was someone else in the room she might be refusing. He couldn’t see under her desk but other than that remote--but incredibly hot--possibility, the room was empty but for the two of them.
“I said no,” she repeated just as he opened his mouth. He frowned at her, then forged ahead with an exasperated shake of his head.
“What is it about ‘no’ you don’t understand?” Cuddy finally looked up as House reached the front of her desk.
“Pretty much all of it.” House set his cane aside and leaned both hands on the desk. “Especially since I haven’t asked a question yet.”
“You haven’t done a lick of work all day so you can’t have any professional questions,” she said briskly. “And anything personal is off limits.”
“You’re crimping my style.”
“That’s not all I’d like to crimp.”
House winced reflexively, then shook a finger at her. “I did you a favor.”
“You did yourself a favor,” she snapped back. She stood up and leaned her hands on her side of the desk, leaning forward until their noses were just inches apart.
“Scooter was all wrong for you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You were going to give up on the things you want,” House said in an accusing tone.
“You know, sometimes when you fall in love....” Cuddy’s gaze was so direct that House faltered. He stepped back from the desk, his own eyes searching out something less threatening to look at because he suddenly had the feeling she wasn’t just talking about Henry anymore. “When you fall in love, you stop caring about what you want for yourself. What you should want or could want. All you care about it that person and whether you can give him what he wants.”
“That’s a foolishly romantic way of thinking,” he said in a low voice. “And it will always end in pain.”
“Apparently.” Cuddy finally released him from the intensity of her stare, her voice carrying a weight of disappointment. She settled behind her desk and picked up her pen. House watched her bow her head over the reams of paper that made up the only life she really had left.
He turned and walked out the door.
~~**~~
“You’ve been scarce lately,” House observed as he and Wilson walked toward the hospital parking lot in the fading glow of day.
“Amber and I have entered the witness protection program,” Wilson said without missing a beat. “Actually, it’s a special secret branch of the witness protection program: the House protection program. It’s funded by the CIA. Apparently there are several foreign nationals also looking to escape your wrath.”
“Wrath? What wrath?” House’s gait faltered slightly as his attention was capture by something behind Wilson.
Wilson turned to look, shaking his head when he saw Cuddy walking alone to her car at the other end of the parking lot. “You should apologize to her.”
“I was doing her....”
“A favor. I know that’s what you think. It’s not what she thinks,” Wilson said. “You should apologize.”
“I’m not going to,” House said stubbornly. “He was bedding Cuddy, for crying out loud. If he let me talk him into dumping her, he’s an idiot.”
“He probably believed you.”
“He should. I was right.”
“You don’t know that.” Wilson gave an exasperated sigh and planted one hand on his hip. “Even if you were right, even if their relationship was doomed to fail, how and when it ended wasn’t your call to make.”
“I didn’t make it.”
Wilson shook his head as he reached into his pocket for his car keys.
House watched him, assessing. “So...Thursday night? Poker?”
“The CIA guys get pretty touchy about me spending time with the person from whom they’re trying to protect me.”
“Seriously, do I have to invoke the custody agreement to get you out for a night?”
“Amber revoked the custody agreement,” Wilson said. “You know, before you could revoke Amber.”
House let out a disgusted huff of air. “I am not a homicidal maniac.”
“No, just a maniac.” Wilson hesitated as he opened his car door. He glanced back over his shoulder at House. “Saturday night. Bowling. And you apologize to Cuddy. And you stay away from Amber.”
“Deal,” House muttered reluctantly. Wilson nodded and got into his car. House watched him drive away until the tail lights got lost in traffic. Then he pulled his hand from behind his back and looked down at his crossed fingers with a smile.