Totally not hiding out. Except for the part where he is.
Who: House, Cuddy, closed.
Where: Clinic Rm 2 > ?
What: House has been avoidng Cuddy.
When: Friday, 14th April, 2006. About 2 in the afternoon.
[OOC: Sorry it's been so long since an update. Personal issues got in the way of rp and other such fandom-ish things, as life is wont to do. D: ]
( The week had been a weird one for House... )
Where: Clinic Rm 2 > ?
What: House has been avoidng Cuddy.
When: Friday, 14th April, 2006. About 2 in the afternoon.
[OOC: Sorry it's been so long since an update. Personal issues got in the way of rp and other such fandom-ish things, as life is wont to do. D: ]
( The week had been a weird one for House... )
Turning his eyes back down to Cuddy's arm that was stretched out as a preventative barrier against his freedom from clinic, he quietly calculated how realistically he could duck down and sort of limbo his way out. Considering how short she was in comparison to him, how Cuddy was standing in the doorway, the fact that he had a gimpy leg--
Cuddy's abrupt remark about apologising snapped his attention back to what was happening in the room. "Hm?" he replied with utmost disinterest, meeting Cuddy's even gaze. "Apologise for what? That her husband--" he swung his cane out and jabbed it rudely in the direction of the patient "--won't put out because she has verbal diarrhoea? That's not my problem. It's therefore nothing to apologise for." He thumped his cane back down against the floor, loudly. "I'm surprised she doesn't have an electrolytic imbalance. A slap in the face with a good dose of harsh reality is usually the only form of immodium effective enough for patients like her who need it. Like a shut up button. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm done here for the day. I'm off to find myself some real patients with real illnesses to play with."
Deciding to give shoving past Cuddy another go, he negotiated where her arm was blocking his path and sought to stoop down so he could make his hasty exit. "This man has done nothing but insult me," the patient piped up as House went to duck under Cuddy's arm.
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"I want you to apologize for being rude," Cuddy told House in a low voice. She ignored the patient for the moment because she was fairly sure they could make this situation go away if House would simply be reasonable. The problem, of course, was that House and reasonable didn't often inhabit the same reality.
"I realize you take great pleasure in offending as many people as possible," Cuddy continued. The way they were almost jammed together in the doorway and with the grip she had on House's shirt, she was practically talking into his shoulder. "But it's not only unnecessary, it's counter-productive. For example, you could've been honest but tactful with this woman and we'd all be happily doing something other than arguing in a clinic room right now."
Cuddy paused to offer the patient what she hoped was a reassuring smile before finishing with House.
"Now you've got one of two choices. You can apologize or all three of us can go to my office and spend the rest of the afternoon handling a patient grievance. Something, I might add, I do not enjoy doing."
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His lips twitched in annoyance at Cuddy and he darted his eyes quickly towards the patient at the same time Cuddy flashed that practiced smile at the woman, who was more or less standing there with her mouth somewhat open. Agape was a good descriptive word. Stupid patients. This was why he hated clinic so much. The whole offending people business. God, people need to grow thicker skin, House thought wryly to himself.
Cuddy's attention back on him made House snap his eyes back towards her again and when she finished her little lecture, House pursed his lips and remained silent for a few beats, keeping his eyes trained down on Cuddy.
Finally, he spoke. "I never realised until right now just how short you actually are." Not quite the response she was looking for, no doubt. He was quick to backpeddle, however, before she hauled his ass away from the clinic to her office, by relenting quickly, "Okay, okay."
God, he hated apologising to patients. Or anybody, for that matter. It was why he hardly ever did it. Forcing himself not to roll his eyes immaturely at Cuddy, he looked across to the patient, who was still standing there with that dumbstruck look on her face. Here we go.
"I'm sorry," he began in an overly sweet, if not mocking tone, "for telling you the truth. That was incredibly inappropriate of me. I was way out of line. Of course, I should've been sympathetic and understanding and all those things that doctors are supposed to be." He offered the woman a pretend, overly sweet smile. "But just be assured that just because I don't care, doesn't mean I don't understand."
He held the fake smile at the woman for a moment, his cheeks feeling like they were going to crack at how forced it was, before he dropped the smile to resume his usual demeanour. House then looked back to Cuddy, completely dismissing the patient.
"Can I go now, mistress?"
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"You can wait for me in my office," Cuddy strongly suggested as she released her grip on House's shirt. She started to smooth out the wrinkles her grip had left on his shirt, then wondered why. It wasn't like his shirt had been un-wrinkled to begin with. Dropping her hand, she stepped out of the doorway to allow him to pass. Cuddy knew she couldn't count on House actually waiting for her, but she also couldn't get anywhere with him until this patient was out of their hair. And at best he'd have a five minute head start. She could catch him if she had to.
"Don't make me come looking for you," Cuddy warned, then she turned her back on House and tried to focus on the patient.
"I don't like him," the patient said as soon as she had Cuddy's attention.
"No one does," Cuddy said with a sigh. Not true, strictly speaking, but she figured it wasn't worth the time and energy it would take to explain to this woman that House was not without his redeeming qualities. "He's rude, arrogant, and wouldn't know bedside manner if it smacked him upside the head." Cuddy let out another resigned sigh. "He's also the best damn doctor we've got."
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He carelessly signed himself out of clinic without so much as a glance to Brenda behind the desk and then swung the clinic door wide open to let himself out into the foyer. Who knew how long Cuddy was going to be with the clinic patient. Not long, likely. God damn it. He threw a cursory glance over his shoulder to see if Cuddy was already making her way towards her office.
Not that he could see. Good. He faced forward again and diagnally began to head towards her office before sharply veering away to start heading towards the elevator. Maybe he'd head up to the roof. That was one place Cuddy had never come to look for him before.
And what would Wilson say about the way House was making every effort to avoid Cuddy? Especially considering the fact that House had said to Wilson that he'd tell her? He could picture Wilson bracing his hands on his hips and heaving a sigh while rolling his eyes in frustration. 'You could've just let me tell her,' Wilson might say, 'instead of leading her on a wild goose chase.' Hrm. Not that he had led her on a wild goose chase. Well, except for now. The word 'coward' lingered at the back of his mind and House deliberately shoved it back down into darkness, where it belonged.
The roof it was, then. He got as far as the elevator, punched the 'up' button and was thinking about how inconveniently slow elevators were when they wanted to be, when he heard the approaching, authoratitve sound of high-heeled shoes clicking on the floor, behind him.
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"I agree," Cuddy said, doing her best to appear sympathetic. "If you wish to file a formal complaint...."
"No," the patient said quickly. "That'll just take up more of my time and I don't want to be bothered. I just don't want to have to see him again."
"It's a walk-in clinic. Which doctor you get is purely the luck of the draw." Besides, Cuddy thought, if she allowed every patient who encountered House to refuse to see him again, House would quickly run out of clinic patients. In fact, Cuddy sometimes suspected that was exactly what House had in mind. "Fortunately for you, House doesn't actually work all that many clinic hours."
"Still, I may just take my business elsewhere," the woman said as she grabbed her purse and marched past Cuddy.
"That's certainly your right." Cuddy did her best to smile at the woman, even though the patient was obviously determined to reach the exit as quickly as possible. Cuddy raised her hand in a half-hearted wave. "Have a nice day."
Patient handled, more or less, Cuddy walked briskly out to the reception desk. She leaned against the counter and asked, "Which way did...?"
Brenda didn't even bother to look up from the insurance forms she was filing. "Elevator. If you hurry, you can still catch him."
Cuddy didn't waste any time. She prayed the elevator would be working at its usual lethargic pace as she hurried toward it, her lab coat flapping around her knees. For once she was a little bit glad House wasn't freely mobile. Two good legs would've meant he'd be safely in hiding by now. Instead, she was able to reach him before the elevator did.
Cuddy managed to insinuate herself between House and the elevator doors. Hands planted on her hips, she looked up at him with exasperation.
"Just where the hell do you think you're going?"
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He thumped his cane on the floor just as he lagged his head forward again to look at Cuddy. He didn't look impressed that she was hot on his tail. Perhaps he looked a little cornered, like he was trying to figure out a way to get out of this one.
"Where does it look like? The elevator," he then replied to her demanding question. He went to reach around her so he could press the up button again, not that doing that would make the elevator arrive any faster. Not that Cuddy was likely to get out of his way, either. "Up, if you really must know. To my office, where mountains of paperwork to avoid awaits me. And believe me, I got a whole lot of avoiding to catch up on."
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Cuddy decided to try a more low key approach. She shifted away from House and took a more relaxed posture, her arms crossed over her chest as she continued to regard him. "You've been suspiciously quiet lately, and it makes me nervous. So how about you try avoiding avoidance for once, and just tell me what's going on?"
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"I'm your email stalker guy," House replied, staring sharply down at Cuddy. "Thought if I did the whole avoiding thing it would make it more believable. Oops. You outted me. Damn. Guess I'll have to find someone else into internet dating that I can stalk for the hell of it."
House dismissively went to step around Cuddy so that he could get onto the elevator. In truth, House had been concerned about that whole thing with Cuddy's email stalker. Concerned because, yes, House did care a lot about Cuddy, in his own weird way. So, this was a low blow, really, but if it got Cuddy off his case then so be it. The word 'coward' sprang back up in the back of his mind and, again, House firmly shoved back down.
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Cuddy managed to clamp her mouth shut before she blurted out anything too telling. She didn't want to consider the possibility that House could be her 'secret admirer.' Yes, she realized humiliating her through a mysterious albeit feigned romance was exactly the kind of thing House would find amusing. It could be him. But why the sudden confession? Why now?
Distraction.
Cuddy drew in a deep breath and regained her composure. That was it, of course. House was trying to distract her, which meant he had something he really, really didn't want to talk about.
"This is good," Cuddy said with a knowing look in her eyes. She actually shifted out of his way, granting him free access to the elevator, a move that seemed to confuse him slightly. "You're so afraid I'm going to find out what you've been up to that you're willing to confess to jerking me around over my dating practices. Which tells me that whatever you've been up to, it's a hell of lot more interesting than anything I've been up to."
With a nod, Cuddy decided to up the stakes. She took a step into the elevator herself and reached for the fourth floor button.
"Well, if you won't talk to me, I'll just have to go ask Wilson."
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That was, of course, until Cuddy alighted the elevator with him, and then said she'd go and ask Wilson. That made House instantly, inwardly reel in brief panic and without thinking about it he swung his cane up and stomped the end of it against the elevator wall, right in front of the buttons; preventing Cuddy from pressing the fourth-floor button.
"No, you're not," he replied.
House peered down at her closely. God damn it. Now he felt beyond cornered. And he'd brought this upon himself, not just by avoiding Cuddy but telling Wilson he'd go to Cuddy in the first place. The elevator doors began to slide shut, and House pulled his cane away from the wall and swung it out to stop the doors in their tracks. They shuddered in their tracks and then slowly rolled back fully open again.
Crap, now what was he going to do? It was probably plain to see on House's face the debate he was having in his head: either take flight or just damn well face the issue. Taking flight sounded so much sweeter and easier. He could... hide somewhere else. And for what? For Cuddy to do exactly as she'd just threatened to, and go to Wilson. She'd then know exactly what it was that House was avoiding her for, and then what? Her statement to him, when she'd called him a coward back in her office that time, would be completely validated. God damn it, god damn it. Yet again, Lisa Cuddy had managed to successfully corner him and he knew there was no real way out of it.
"Leave Wilson out of this," he ordered. For now.
Without another word, House lowered his cane and stepped back out of the elevator, thinking how he could easily make a break for it and limp as fast as his bum leg would take him to... somewhere. Somewhere where Cuddy would be able to catch up with him and physically corner him again. Christ.
So, he started heading in the direction of her office. At least, if he was in her office that would appease her to some degree and he wouldn't necessarily have to tell her anything. He was good at skirting around issues he didn't want to talk about.
Coward, a voice in the back of his mind said. Coward, coward, coward, it chanted in rhythm with each gimpy step he was taking towards Cuddy's office.
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Cuddy stepped off the elevator after House, allowing the doors to close behind her. Her eyebrows drew together in a frown when it became evident that House was headed, not for the exit, but to her office.
Now she was thoroughly confused. House had been so determined to avoid talking to her that he'd poked a sore spot: her so-called love life. But apparently he'd rather talk to her than allow her to talk to Wilson.
"What the hell are you up to now?" Cuddy muttered to herself. She hastened her steps until she caught up to House, still half expecting him to make a last minute bid for freedom. Instead, he marched on into her office. Cuddy stopped in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder at her assistant, who was staring wide-eyed after House.
"No interruptions unless the building's on fire or somebody's bleeding to death on your desk," Cuddy ordered.
"But Dr. Cuddy...." he began.
"I don't care what it is," Cuddy said, knowing full well there was no imminent crisis that needed her attention. "Whatever it is: file it, reschedule it, delegate it. Just don't bother me with it."
Cuddy stepped into her office and closed the door behind her. She paused a moment to rub her hand across her forehead before looking at House.
"If I concede the first round of "Let's confuse Cuddy" to you, could we stop playing this insane game?"
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House was rubbing his hand over his forehead, too, facing away from Cuddy and wondering if coming into her office was actually a very smart idea. Too late now. Unless he sought escape, which he was certain Cuddy would make difficult for him until she got some measure of an explanation that she was satisfied with.
He dropped his hand to his side and reluctantly turned to face her, trying to look as indifferent as possible. Probably wasn't very convincing, seeing he felt like he'd just cornered himself and was now kicking himself inwardly for it. Why was this so threatening to him? This was Cuddy, after all, that he was to tell about himself and Wilson, not some perfect stranger.
Simple, really. It was because it was his own inner struggle that he was coming to terms with, and taking the step of announcing anything was basically cementing the decision he and Wilson had made. And because of that it was just easier to ignore it or avoid it than deal with it, because that was how he treated everything personal that he struggled with.
House went for the deliberately evasive approach, to try and project it back onto Cuddy so she'd perhaps be distracted from trying to find out what was really the issue. "If this has to do with you being pissed off about your whole email thing, I said it was me, I confessed, sorry, hope you learned your lesson, was it as fun for you as it was for me, all that crap, can I go now?"
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"You piss me off, but that's your goal, isn't it?" Cuddy gave a sharp shake of her head and crossed the length of the room to her desk. She sank down into her chair and leaned back, her hands loosely clasped across her waist.
Didn't House ever get tired of the games? The emotional slight-of-hand, the constant deflections intended to keep anyone from knowing what was really going on with him? Because heaven knew Cuddy found it positively exhausting at times.
"What this has to do with is me wanting to know what you've been hiding, or hiding from, all week." Cuddy tilted her head back slightly so she could look directly up at House. "Is there any way I can get a straight answer from you?"
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House faced her desk and leaned heavily against his cane. He gave an indifferent gesture with his hand to match the indifferent expression he was still attempting to keep masked on his face. The more he thought about this, the more he was thinking that he wished he'd agreed to let Wilson tell her. Then again, he wasn't sure how he'd take it if Wilson had told her and Cuddy had then pulled House aside to talk to him about it. He likely wouldn't have taken it well, which was probably a huge understatement. At least if he told her he was in control of the situation.
But he didn't want to tell her. Even though he told Wilson he would. Even though he knew it was for the best that she knew; considering how much she'd put up from him lately, too.
With all these conflicting thoughts racing through his mind, House had to resist reaching up to his face to rub it in frustration. Instead, he braced his hand firmly atop of his other that was resting on his cane, and gave Cuddy a wry smile.
"What am I hiding from? The usual. Clinic. Sick people. You and your nagging. Is that the straight answer you were after?"
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So if House wasn't avoiding work--any more than usual--then it must be something personal. Which most likely meant Wilson. She'd hoped that the two of them had dealt with the fall out from the hooker incident, but that was all it was, a hope. All she knew for certain was that they were able to work together, since Wilson had consulted on House's latest patient. Beyond that, it was anyone's guess.
Cuddy leaned forward and leaned her elbows on her desk as she gave House a serious look. "If you're hiding from Wilson, you need to stop. Don't get me wrong, I like it when you do your clinic hours. I'd like to keep liking it, but you need to deal with this... thing between the two of you."
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