Fic: Chapter and Verse (1/1) House NC-17
TITLE: Chapter and Verse
AUTHOR: Laura Smith
PAIRING: Cuddy/Wilson
RATING: NC17
SUMMARY: The past is prologue
DISCLAIMER: House and all the characters therein belong to people who are not me. I make no profit from this, I just like playing with them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Special thanks to nolivingman for the beta and pokey stick.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“It’s her choice.”
“Hers. Not his.” Wilson sat across her desk, watching the stiff line of her back as she slid a book back onto the shelf. “He’ll hate you both.”
“He’ll be alive. He’ll be mobile. He’ll have his leg.”
“He doesn’t want this.”
She turned around quickly and dropped her hands to her desk. “Then he should have made you his proxy,” she snapped. Inhaling, she straightened then sat across from him. “But he didn’t. He chose her, he chose to trust her judgment and she’s making the call.”
“She’s violating that trust.”
Cuddy sighed and rubbed her eyes. “James, I took an oath. He opted for the coma to get through the worst of the pain.” She met and held his gaze. “And he hasn’t even gotten to the worst of the pain.”
He looked away from her, staring out the window. “I’m going to file an official protest.”
“If that’s what you think is right, that’s what you have to do.” She stood up, effectively dismissing him. “But I have to do what I think is right. The surgery is at six tomorrow.”
“Looking for moral support?”
She shook her head slowly. “I thought he might want to see a friendly face.”
**
“Do you think he’s adjusted to it all?”
“After his big confession?” Wilson shrugged and fell in step with her. “I don’t know. Are you still hoping for forgiveness?”
Cuddy shook her head. “Not from House.”
His eyebrows rose. “I think it was quite an eye-opener for Cameron, Chase and Foreman.”
She shrugged lightly. “How is Julie?”
He stopped walking and leaned against the wall, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “She’s fine.”
“Good.” She glanced at her watch. “Well, I have rounds.”
“Lisa…”
“What, James?” She gave him a small smile. “House and Stacy’s relationship wasn’t the only thing that died on the operating table, so let’s not pretend it was. And really, there’s no point in going through it all again, is there?”
“We’ve never discussed it.”
“There was nothing to discuss.”
**
“I have surgery in the morning.”
“I know.” He handed her the bottle and walked into the house, moving past her toward the bar. “But you’ll be watching, not participating, so I think it’s safe for you to have a few drinks.”
“It’s never safe for me to have a few drinks when you’re here.” She moved to join him, setting the bottle on the bar beside him as he fished two glasses off the shelf. “I didn’t expect you to come.”
“We’ve had disagreements at work before. It’s never kept me from showing up.”
“They’ve never been disagreements about House.”
“They’re always disagreements about House.” He opened the bottle and poured two fingers of scotch in each glass. He handed her hers and smiled to take the sting out of his words. “They’re just normally about his methods of practice, not whether he should go under the knife against his will.”
She took a sip of the liquor and looked away from him. “Are we going to have a disagreement here?”
“No. No fighting here, remember?” He cupped the back of her neck with his hand and pulled her closer, closing his eyes as she rested her head against his chest. “I don’t want to talk about House tonight. I don’t want to spoil tonight.”
She sighed softly against him, her breath warm as it stirred his tie. “We’ll just agree to disagree?”
“How about we don’t even think about it and concentrate on us instead.”
“Us.” She looked up at him with the ghost of a smile. “I like the sound of that.”
**
“Dr. Wilson?” Cuddy poked her head in the door of his office and nodded as he waved her toward a chair, finishing his phone conversation. “Sorry to disturb you.”
“Not a problem.” He folded his hands on his desk and smiled. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m considering offering Stacy a position here at the hospital.”
“Wow.” He got to his feet and moved to the window, glancing across the patio to House’s office. “It’ll be just like old times.”
“Except House and Stacy now hate each other.” She looked toward him then looked away.
“And you and I are still having disagreements about House.” He didn’t turn to look at her. “Are you concerned at all? With their history?”
“People who used to be involved can manage to work together after their relationship ends.” She glanced at the door, at the bookcase, at anything but him. “Or so I’ve been told.”
“House and Stacy weren’t just sleeping together.”
She stiffened, her chin jerking slightly, acknowledging the hit. “I’ll be asking House, of course.”
“And if he says no? Are you going to defer to his inability to be anything other than a childish boy who creates a catastrophe if he doesn’t get his own way?”
“No. I’m going to hire her anyway, but at least I’ll know what to expect.”
**
She tilted her head up to him and smiled, the golden light of the lamp behind him reflecting in her eyes. “I made dinner.”
“I thought you weren’t sure I was coming?”
“I wasn’t. But I hoped you’d show up, regardless.” She pulled away and caught his hand, leading him toward the kitchen. “Come on. I made your favorite.”
“Macaroni and cheese?”
“Pigs in a blanket.”
He laughed and tugged her back toward him, bending his head to catch her in a quick kiss. “What do you say we ignore the pigs and go curl up under a blanket or two ourselves?”
“Why, Dr. Wilson.” She shook her head. “Do you honestly think I’m the kind of girl you can lure to her bedroom so easily?”
“Oh, God. I hope so.” He kissed her again, more slowly, more thoroughly, his tongue sneaking past her parted lips to taste her before he pulled away again. “Whatever it is, we can reheat it, can’t we? After we build up an appetite?”
She smiled and nodded, changing direction and leading him toward the stairs. “Just like a man, always rushing to get dessert first.”
**
“Remind me again why I did this?” Cuddy sighed as Wilson sat down across from her, her desk between them. “I mean, I had some sort of master plan, right?” She sighed again as he raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe not a well thought out master plan.”
“You invited the love of House’s life back to work in the hospital while her husband recovers from a life threatening illness that House saved him from. You assumed, obviously incorrectly, that House would hold some respect for the sanctity of marriage.”
“I never assumed House would think anything more of marriage and the vows than he does any other rule or law. If he can break them, he will.” She glanced down at her desk. “Maybe I just foolishly hoped that he’d resolve things.”
“Foolish being the operative word.”
“Operative being the operative word?” She reached out for her water and took a long sip, smirking as he nodded his head in surrender. “Besides why would you think I’d assume House would honor marriage when the more honorable men on my staff can’t manage to do so?” She shook her head rapidly. “I apologize for that.”
“Nothing wrong with saying how you feel.”
“That wasn’t about how I feel. That was about me being a bitch.” She got to her feet. “How do you think this is going to play out now?”
“I’m hoping that they’re done. But something tells me that might not be the case.”
“Nothing’s ever over when you hope it is.”
He got to his feet and didn’t look at her as he made his way to the door.
**
She stopped outside the bedroom door, leaning on it and looking at him. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, exhaling softly. “Let me in,” he whispered softly, his breath warm on her lips. She smiled automatically as she twisted the doorknob, easing into the room.
“Something tells me you were expecting I might want dessert first.”
She set her glass on the dresser and moved the side of the bed, the candlelight glinting off her white silk shirt. “Has there been a time when you haven’t?”
“Our first date didn’t start in the bedroom.”
“Our first date was three weeks after we’d had sex for the first time. And the second. And the tenth.” She laughed softly as he moved toward her. “And the twelfth, if I’m not mistaken.”
“You’re never mistaken. That’s why you’re going to make an amazing hospital administrator.” He set his drink beside hers and closed the distance between them, his fingers easily undoing the buttons of her shirt. “But you do have to admit that we didn’t go straight to the bedroom on our first date.”
“No, we had sex on the couch.” She laughed softly as he finished the last button and parted the sleek material, pushing it off her shoulders. He smoothed his hands over her camisole, tracing the lace edging with his thumb.
“You’re beautiful, Lisa.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Yeah, but I almost never mean it.” He laughed with her then leaned in, catching the soft sound in a kiss. Her mouth molded to his - warm and sweet and soft - and he thrust his tongue slowly past her lips, closing his eyes as she caught it and sucked on it, pulling him even closer.
He cupped her breasts through the fabric then slid his hands down and around her waist, catching the material in his fingers before pulling away from her and tugging it upward. It tumbled into the pile of her shirt, her bra joining the growing stack a few moments later.
His palms covered her breast and she shivered despite their warmth. He bent his head and nibbled at her earlobe, tracing the hollow beneath it with the tip of his tongue. She shivered again, pushing him away then moving in on him, maneuvering him back onto the bed. He sat down then lay back on the mattress as she placed a firm hand on his chest. “Stay.”
She walked over to the dresser and retrieved her drink, taking a small sip. He watched her mouth and neck as she swallowed, her skirt swaying around her knees as she approached him, the soft movement distracting him from the curves of her naked breasts.
She straddled him and he groaned, the fabric of her skirt covering him, sheathing his reaction to her body on his beneath the dark red material. She reached down with her free hand and began unbuttoning his shirt, leaving his tie in place. He grabbed at it and tugged it loose, pulling it over his head as she made short work of the row of buttons. “How do you know I didn’t have plans for that tie?”
He groaned again, the sound mutating to a low hiss as she spread his shirt with her hand and then poured a cool trickle of scotch onto his chest. “O…oh.”
She finished off what remained in the glass and set it on the mattress before planting her hands on either side of him and leaning down, her long hair stroking his flesh as her mouth closed over his nipple, sucking skin and scotch, the heat trapped beneath her skirt bathing his cock through his slacks.
She licked and sucked her way across to his other nipple, biting it softly as she cleaned it, eliciting a sharp inhalation from him. He could feel her smile as she moved down, the loss of heat forcing a moan from between his lips that drew out as she ran her tongue down his stomach to the hard buckle of his belt.
Her fingers moved easily, steadily. The hands of a doctor moving precisely to strip away his belt and slacks and boxers, easing her body off of him along with the clothes. He stared at her and she held his eyes as she dropped his clothes and walked back toward him. She stood up on the edge of the bed, towering over him, her skirt billowing out as she sank down onto her knees, sank down onto him, the pure, electric heat of her wet flesh sending a shock along his spine.
“Fuck.” His voice shuddered as she found his hands, lacing their fingers together as she began moving over him, her body clenching and clutching at his with every long, steady stroke. She smiled and watched him with hooded eyes. “Lisa.”
They moved in easy unison, her knees tight against his thighs as her body stroked along his cock, the tight clench of her muscles grasping and squeezing at his flesh. He tightened his grip on her hands, his eyes mesmerized by the sway and fall of her breasts, her shallow breaths as she edged closer to her orgasm.
He closed his eyes, his hips thrusting upward, his rhythm shifting as he urged her toward her release, his own body tightening as she closed around him. Heat bathed along his cock as she came, his control shattered as released her hands, grabbing her hips and holding her tight against the push of his hips.
They both panted raggedly as they slowed, Lisa leaning forward against him, the rub of the fabric of her skirt almost too rough against his sensitive skin as her breasts rested softly against his chest.
“I love you,” she whispered, the sound nearly drowned out by his own request.
“Don’t do the surgery, Lisa.”
She moved off of him quickly, her face a frozen mask. “Get out.”
“Lisa…”
She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice was thick and milky, though no tears shone in her eyes. “Now.”
**
“You think Cuddy looks good today?” House tilted his head one way and then the other. “She’s wearing those high collared sweaters again. We really need to see what we can do about stopping that.”
“You’re trying to deflect me from asking about you and Stacy.” Wilson lifted his eyes as Cuddy laughed at something one of the men she was talking to said something. “Yes, she looks good.”
House made a loud buzzing noise. “Wrong answer. Your correct answer would be, ‘I don’t know, as I only have eyes for my sweet and loving wife’.”
“Tell me again why I persist in hanging out with you?”
“You have guilt. Probably kicked a cripple some time in your past and now you’re hanging around with me to shine up your karma.” His cane hit the floor and he started walking. “Not that it’s going to do you any good. Doesn’t count if you do it on purpose.”
“So why bother to do it at all?”
“You think Cuddy’s got a thing for her handyman?”
“Can we get off the subject of Cuddy? Besides, it might be a touch unethical for her to date the guy who just won a huge lawsuit from our hospital.”
“Hmm. Maybe. Plus, Cuddy does like a man with good hands. I hear that’s why she only dates surgeons now.” He lifted both eyebrows. “Handyman’s not so handy anymore, doesn’t fit the bill.”
“Did you go somewhere to get lessons in crudeness, or does it just come naturally to you?”
“It’s a gift.” House turned around and pressed his back to his office door. “Come on. General Hospital’s on.”
**
“James.” Cuddy looked up as Stacy spoke then quickly brought her eyes back down to the chart. Wilson nodded as she moved to the door of House’s room. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“He’s my best friend.”
“Ah.” Stacy nodded and stepped back. “You don’t approve.”
“It’s not what he wanted.”
“Yes, well, neither is dying, but that was our other option. At least, that’s what his doctors tell me.” She glanced at Cuddy then back at Wilson. “Unless you’ve got a second opinion?”
“No. I’m sure Dr. Cuddy has done everything else in her power to avoid this.” He didn’t look at Cuddy as he walked to House’s bedside, staring down at his friend. “Are you prepared for the fall out, Stacy? He’s not going to be happy. Or pleasant.”
“He’s never been pleasant. He’s always been egotistical and annoying and obnoxious.”
“But he’s been happy. And that’s going to change.” He turned and crossed his arms over his chest, darting a glance at Cuddy. “He’s going to take it out on you.” He met Stacy’s gaze then turned to look at Lisa. “And you.”
“Patients don’t always like their doctors,” Cuddy informed him flatly. “I’m not trying to win a popularity contest.”
“House can hate me,” Stacy’s voice brought Wilson’s eyes back to her. “I’m okay with that.” She shook her head. “No. I’m not. But if it means that Greg will live and he’ll…have something resembling a normal life, I can live with not being a part of it. He’ll come around, James.”
“I hope so. For your sake.” He watched as Cuddy left the room and shook his head as Stacy started to say something. “Don’t.”
“Don’t let this affect you, James. That’s ridiculous.” She touched his arm softly. “Just because Greg likes being miserable, doesn’t mean he’d want you to join him.”
“Misery loves company, remember?”
“That’s what I’m for.” She smiled and hugged him, holding him too tight for a moment too long. “Remember?”
He nodded. “Will you be in the observatory?”
“No. I don’t think…I can’t.”
“I’ll let you know when it’s done.” She nodded her thanks and he squeezed her hand. Stepping outside of the room, he paused then made his way to the nurse’s station, standing beside Cuddy as she finished charting. “I’ve submitted a formal inquiry.”
“Do what you have to, Dr. Wilson.”
“I will.”
She nodded and closed the chart, meeting his eyes with her own cold gaze. “I know.”
**
“How’s Julie?”
“I’d believe you really cared if you were anyone but you.” Wilson took a pear from the basket and added it to his tray. “She’s fine.”
“I’m sure she is.” House took the pear and bit into it. “I have a question for you.”
“Is it rhetorical?”
“No.” He took another bite of the pear and smiled.
Wilson sighed. “Go ahead.”
“Why’d you really fuck things up with Cuddy?”
Coughing, Wilson stopped, ignoring the glares of everyone else in line. “That’s ancient history.”
“Yeah, well, history’s been a real popular subject around here lately. So ‘fess up.” He took another bite. “Are you going to pay for this food?” Wilson brushed past him to the cashier and handed her his money, heading for a table without looking to see if House followed him. He stabbed at his salad as Greg slid into the seat across from him. “It was me, wasn’t it?”
“Not everything in this hospital revolves around you.”
“Which is always your answer when something revolves around me.” House finished the pear and tossed the core across the room toward the trash. He watched it fall into the dark bag then turned back. “Well?”
“We don’t talk about that time in your life, remember? You weren’t pleasant. You were cold and distant…”
“And how does that differ from how I am now? And you talk to me now.”
“I talked to you then. You didn’t talk to me.”
“Right. Because Cuddy stopped being a doctor and started being an administrator and, subsequently, something of a bitch.” He smiled as Wilson’s jaw clenched. “A direct result, no doubt, of you and Julie replacing you and Cuddy, and I want to know what happened.”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
Wilson stood up, his lunch relatively untouched. “Everybody does it,” he shrugged. “Why can’t I?”
**
House glanced up as his door opened, his face dark with a scowl until he saw Wilson. “About time, you bastard.”
“It’s not as easy sneaking contraband in here as you might think.” He put the bag down on the table in front of House then shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “You’ve got your very own watchdog, remember?”
“Yeah, well, guilt is an amazing motivator.” He opened the bag and smiled. “She’s going to kill you if she sees this.”
“She’s going to know it’s from me if she sees it, so let’s make sure she doesn’t.” He leaned back against the wall, his hands still deep in his coat. “Greg…” He shook his head as House looked up. “I’ve got something else for you.”
“You always sound so dirty when you say that. Tell me it’s a ‘get out of therapy free’ card.”
“Not quite.” He pulled his hand from his pocket and tossed the envelope in front of House. “I’ve got rounds.”
House’s eyebrow shot up as he picked up the envelope. He turned it over and started to speak when the door opened and Cuddy strode in. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is, House.”
“Shouldn’t you call me Mr. House while I’m your patient?” He grabbed the bag out of her reach and stuffed it down beside his bed. “And shouldn’t you be nice to me?”
“I am being nice,” she reminded him as she to the opposite side of his bed, ignoring Wilson. She adjusted House’s bed into an upright position and helped him lean forward. Moving closer, she slid her stethoscope against his back. “Breathe.”
“You know what the problem with you dating Wilson is, Cuddy?” She looks down at him, her expression blank as he sends a darting glance toward her chest. “I have to stop making inappropriate comments about your breasts.”
She leaned him back against his pillow and moved the scope to his chest. “You don’t make inappropriate comments about my breasts, Greg.”
“Well, now I can’t start.” He leaned back as she finished and waved the envelope at her. “I’m pretty sure it’s a rule, except in soap operas and trashy romance novels.” He glanced at Wilson watching him for a moment as he stared at Cuddy. His scowl returning, House glanced down at the envelope and then at Wilson again, ripping the cream colored paper open. “Julie Anderson?”
Wilson lifted his chin, but didn’t say anything. His eyes were focused somewhere beyond Cuddy, who didn’t look up, didn’t react as she wrote in House’s chart.
“Who the fuck is Julie Anderson?”
Cuddy put down his chart and walked beside him, lifting the sheet off his leg. “Dr. Remington is going to start your rehab.” She dropped the gown back and reached down for the bag, stuffing it into the pocket of her lab coat. “Looks like you and I are all finished.”
House’s gaze stayed locked on Wilson, his eyes flashing. “Nice working with you then, Dr. Cuddy.”
“Well, you’re not quite through with me in that regard, Greg.” She tilted her head, watching him curiously, her movements slightly off-kilter as she continued to avoid Wilson. “Assuming you’re coming back to work.”
“Are you kidding?” He smiles slyly, nodding toward her blouse. “Miss seeing you and the girls every day?”
Wilson’s gaze snapped to House’s then down to Cuddy’s chest. He started to speak when Cuddy’s voice cut him off, her voice rich with laughter edged with the thickness of the glaze of tears in her eyes. “The girls and I will await your return.”
**
“Rumor has it you have a date.”
Cuddy didn’t look up as she reached behind her to adjust the strap of her shoe. “Despite what House might have you believe, this isn’t a soap opera, and as such, my personal life bears no discussion.”
“House would say that’s because you don’t have a personal life.”
“House is also an ass. Is that what you’re trying to emulate these days? Does that go over well on the oncology floor?”
“Sorry.” Wilson walked into the office and sank into one of the chairs across from her desk. “Who is he?”
“None of your business.” She grabbed two folders off her desk and shoved them into her briefcase. “None of House’s either, for that matter, just in case you’ve got some sort of bet running or something.”
“Another doctor?”
“What do you want, James?” She sighed and sat down at her desk, hands folded on the flat surface. “You want to believe that I’m pining away for you or something? It’s been five years, and just because House and Stacy feel the need to rekindle old flames and get burned again, doesn’t mean that I have any desire to.” She stood again and tugged the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Whether or not I have a date is none of your business, and I’m sure your wife would tell you the same.”
“I’m sleeping in my office.”
She stopped and glanced down at the floor, taking a deep breath. “Maybe you should be talking to Stacy too then. I’m sure she could give you the name of a good lawyer.”
**
“So, let me get this straight.” The hard thump of House’s cane punctuated his steps as they walked down the corridor. “You went to Asmussen?”
“I did.”
“And ruined your relationship with Cuddy.”
Wilson blew out a breath. “Yeah. I did that too.”
“All for little old me?” House stopped and leaned against his cane, one hand over his heart. “I’d be touched if you weren’t such an idiot.”
“Ending things with Cuddy wasn’t about you. And going to Asmussen wasn’t about Lisa, and how am I an idiot? They were skirting around the law even though you’d signed for the medical coma. They were playing fast and loose with your life.”
“You’re an idiot because A) Stacy is a lawyer and playing fast and loose is what she does…and not just in the bedroom.”
“You’re routinely disgusting.”
House ignored him. “B) Because regardless of what the legal ramifications were, Stacy did have power of attorney and I had signed the release.” He shifted and started walking again. “C) They were right.”
“What?”
House shrugged one shoulder and stopped, leaning against his office door. “They did the right thing. They did what I would have done if it had been me as the doctor and not the patient.” He shoved open the door and walked in, heading straight for his desk. “It may not have been entirely ethical, but I think I’d have to be in a bit of a masochistic mood to bring anyone to the table for that.”
“Greg…”
“Not to mention the fact,” House ignored him again, “that you ruined a perfectly good thing with Cuddy, you’re probably going to fuck up this marriage to this poor, unsuspecting girl, and Cuddy, for her exemplary duty and skill, not to mention upholding the letter of science and the law, is now, for all intents and purposes, our boss.” He sank into his chair and rubbed his shoulder. “I hate that damn cane.”
“I’m sure you’ll grow to love it. Think of the advantages - you can poke nurses with it. You can slam it on the floor or the desk or the table for attention.”
“I can shove it up your ass when you’re being dense.” House raised his eyebrows pointedly. “Plus, the chicks dig it.”
“Good to see your priorities are in order.”
“Hey, the last one was Cuddy’s addition to the argument.” He smiled. “You think she’s got a thing for me?”
“Can you think with something above your waistline?”
House shook his head, tsking. “Now, now. You don’t get to be the jealous boyfriend once you turn in your ‘have sex every night free’ card.” He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “You think she’ll be a good boss? Is she good with a whip?”
“Since she’ll need it to keep you in shape?”
“Mmm.”
“Shut up, House.”
**
He jerked awake, sitting up in the darkness of the room. His breath came fast and hard as he looked around, his eyes adjusting. The soft click of the door caught his attention and he leaned back, swallowing hard. “What time is it?”
“Early. Four.”
He rubbed his eyes with the ball of his hand and squinted at the vague outline of her. “What are you doing here?”
She laughed softly and he could see the shift of movement as she shrugged. “I don’t really know.”
“House has a surgery in a few hours. I figure it’s my duty to the hospital and family to be there in case everything goes to hell.” She walked further into the room as he reached out and snapped on the small lamp beside his couch. It cast a golden halo of light around the room, on her as she sat in one of his leather chairs. “Picking up the pieces.”
“You do more than that.”
“Scatter them to the wind?” She shook her head. “Why are you sleeping in your office, James?”
“Julie doesn’t seem to like me very much right now.” He laughed, the sound too flat to be bitter. “Or at all.”
“I’m sure you’re just going through a rough patch.”
“I’m going through a divorce.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch. “A very messy, very ugly divorce that involved charges of adultery and irreconcilable differences and mental anguish, though I think she’s going after Greg for that last one.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I haven’t told anyone.” He shrugged. “What’s the point? My marital history is a running joke around here. Why add fuel to the flames? Besides, I understand there’s a pool going on as to when we’re going to get divorced, so I thought I’d play it close to the vest and see if I can get in on some of the action.”
“James.”
“What good would telling you have done, Lisa?” He opened his eyes, pinning her with his gaze. “She cheated on me. She accused me of working too many hours and caring more about the dead and dying and that stupid misanthropic son of a bitch than I do about her. And she’s not wrong.”
“I wouldn’t have asked how she was.”
“You asking about Julie was always to get back at me. The only reason you wouldn’t ask would be if you thought I didn’t care how Julie was.” He got to his feet and opened the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a folded shirt. “I have rounds. I need to shower.”
He started to walk past her, stopping when her hand grabbed his. She didn’t look up at him as she released him, her voice soft as the sound of the hospital awakening filtered in around them. “I am sorry.”
His hand lifted to her face, his knuckles grazing her cheek. “So am I.”
**
“Can you explain this to me?”
Cuddy looked up from her desk and met Wilson’s eyes. “It appears to be a piece of paper. Originated in China as far as the history goes. The strange markings on it are called letters, made by what the Indians call ink.”
“Maybe you should cut back the amount of time you’re spending with House.”
“Maybe you should rephrase your question into something meaningful.” She tapped the folder in front of her with her pen. “I have work to do.”
“This.” He set the paper in front of her, pulling his hand back as she picked it up.
“Clinic hours schedule.”
“Yes.”
“And now that riddle’s solved.” She released the paper and let it float back to her desk as she turned her attention back to the folder. Wilson grabbed the sheet and placed it squarely in front of her. “Is there a problem of some sort, Dr. Wilson?”
“I requested this week off, Dr. Cuddy.” He pointed to the last week of the month. “And yet, for some reason, I’m on full rotation of clinic and office hours.”
“It’s a bad time of year for cancer,” She snapped. “I don’t make the schedule.”
“No. But you approve all vacation requests.” He pulled his hand back and waited. “And, strangely enough, you didn’t approve mine.”
“You’ve already requested your maximum allowed time off, Dr. Wilson. According to my records, you were gone the first two weeks of the year and have already been scheduled for a week in August. As that request was received prior to this most current one, it takes precedence. That is why your request was refused.”
“And you knowing that the week off in August was meant to be spent with you on the lake didn’t make you think that maybe I wouldn’t need that time anymore?”
“I certainly don’t pretend to know what you do with your time outside of the hospital, Dr. Wilson. For all I know, you had arranged to take your soon-to-be wife with you to the lake.”
“To your cabin?”
“There are others.” She reached into her desk drawer and removed a large notebook. Flipping through the pages, she stopped at August. “So, you don’t need the week in August off?”
“No.”
“Fine.” She crossed his name off and moved back to June, writing his name in large, block letters across the final week. “I’ll get the message to scheduling right away.”
“Thank you,” he bit out. “I’m so glad to know that, whatever there was between us, our business relationship will remain the same.”
“If you even think that I have any sort of personal vendetta regarding your choice of vacation dates or places, Dr. Wilson, you might wish to think again. I could care less when or where you choose to go and who or what you choose to do. The only thing I care about is that you get exactly the amount of vacation time allotted to you. No more, no less.”
“Oh, no. Of course it’s not personal, Dr. Cuddy.”
“No more personal than this little diatribe of yours, Dr. Wilson.” She slammed the notebook closed and folded her hands together on top of it, her knuckles white with tension. “Best wishes on your marriage.”
“Is this going to keep you warm, Lisa?”
“That’s none of your business, Dr. Wilson. But you should know this, regardless of whether or not it keeps me warm, it certainly doesn’t question my abilities or my judgment and it sure as hell doesn’t use me the way you did. Good night.”
“Good night.” He nodded once, his jaw and spine stiff. “Dr. Cuddy.”
**
The door opened slowly and Wilson managed a smile as he held up the bottle of wine. “I come bearing gifts.”
Her face didn’t change, though something flashed in her eyes. “So I see.”
“Can I come in?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and pressed her lips together. “I don’t know that that’s wise.”
“It’s not.” He nodded. “But can I do it anyway?”
She caught her lower lip between her finger and thumb and shifted nervously before nodding once and backing away from the door. He walked in slowly, holding out the wine. She took the bottle and glanced at the label. “Nice.” She closed the door behind him as he took off his coat. “Would you like a glass?”
“No. No, thanks.” He shook his head as she turned and carried the bottle off to the kitchen, returning with a glass in her hand. He settled on the couch, his hands between his spread knees. “Do you ever wonder why they say ‘until death do you part’ anymore?”
“No.”
“I mean, look at divorce rates in this country. Not just mine.” He laughed, the sound somewhat bitter. “Marriages used to last. Now they don’t. It’s too easy to walk away, too easy to get out.”
“If you let it be.” She sat opposite him, tucking one leg underneath her. “I think each person has to make a choice, make a stand.” She shrugged and took a sip of her wine. “Make a vow.”
“I got married for the wrong reasons.”
Her jaw tightened slightly and she managed a nod with another sip of wine. “You did.”
“And to the wrong woman.”
“That I can’t answer for you.” She set her glass down on the table and sighed softly. “James…”
“I’ve been lecturing House and he’s not doing anything I’m not doing. I’m still in love with a woman who isn’t my wife.”
“You’re not trying to break up a marriage…”
“But I am.” He got to his feet and moved around the couch, pacing the length of it. “The only difference is that I’m not trying to break up someone else’s marriage.”
“I think you should go, James.” She got to her feet as well and moved to the door, stilling as he came up to her, his hand wrapped around her arm. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “Please.”
“I never stopped loving you, Lisa.”
“No. I know you didn’t.” She turned slowly and reached up, brushing his lips with her fingers, smiling as they parted. “But you never quite loved me enough.”
AUTHOR: Laura Smith
PAIRING: Cuddy/Wilson
RATING: NC17
SUMMARY: The past is prologue
DISCLAIMER: House and all the characters therein belong to people who are not me. I make no profit from this, I just like playing with them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Special thanks to nolivingman for the beta and pokey stick.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“It’s her choice.”
“Hers. Not his.” Wilson sat across her desk, watching the stiff line of her back as she slid a book back onto the shelf. “He’ll hate you both.”
“He’ll be alive. He’ll be mobile. He’ll have his leg.”
“He doesn’t want this.”
She turned around quickly and dropped her hands to her desk. “Then he should have made you his proxy,” she snapped. Inhaling, she straightened then sat across from him. “But he didn’t. He chose her, he chose to trust her judgment and she’s making the call.”
“She’s violating that trust.”
Cuddy sighed and rubbed her eyes. “James, I took an oath. He opted for the coma to get through the worst of the pain.” She met and held his gaze. “And he hasn’t even gotten to the worst of the pain.”
He looked away from her, staring out the window. “I’m going to file an official protest.”
“If that’s what you think is right, that’s what you have to do.” She stood up, effectively dismissing him. “But I have to do what I think is right. The surgery is at six tomorrow.”
“Looking for moral support?”
She shook her head slowly. “I thought he might want to see a friendly face.”
**
“Do you think he’s adjusted to it all?”
“After his big confession?” Wilson shrugged and fell in step with her. “I don’t know. Are you still hoping for forgiveness?”
Cuddy shook her head. “Not from House.”
His eyebrows rose. “I think it was quite an eye-opener for Cameron, Chase and Foreman.”
She shrugged lightly. “How is Julie?”
He stopped walking and leaned against the wall, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “She’s fine.”
“Good.” She glanced at her watch. “Well, I have rounds.”
“Lisa…”
“What, James?” She gave him a small smile. “House and Stacy’s relationship wasn’t the only thing that died on the operating table, so let’s not pretend it was. And really, there’s no point in going through it all again, is there?”
“We’ve never discussed it.”
“There was nothing to discuss.”
**
“I have surgery in the morning.”
“I know.” He handed her the bottle and walked into the house, moving past her toward the bar. “But you’ll be watching, not participating, so I think it’s safe for you to have a few drinks.”
“It’s never safe for me to have a few drinks when you’re here.” She moved to join him, setting the bottle on the bar beside him as he fished two glasses off the shelf. “I didn’t expect you to come.”
“We’ve had disagreements at work before. It’s never kept me from showing up.”
“They’ve never been disagreements about House.”
“They’re always disagreements about House.” He opened the bottle and poured two fingers of scotch in each glass. He handed her hers and smiled to take the sting out of his words. “They’re just normally about his methods of practice, not whether he should go under the knife against his will.”
She took a sip of the liquor and looked away from him. “Are we going to have a disagreement here?”
“No. No fighting here, remember?” He cupped the back of her neck with his hand and pulled her closer, closing his eyes as she rested her head against his chest. “I don’t want to talk about House tonight. I don’t want to spoil tonight.”
She sighed softly against him, her breath warm as it stirred his tie. “We’ll just agree to disagree?”
“How about we don’t even think about it and concentrate on us instead.”
“Us.” She looked up at him with the ghost of a smile. “I like the sound of that.”
**
“Dr. Wilson?” Cuddy poked her head in the door of his office and nodded as he waved her toward a chair, finishing his phone conversation. “Sorry to disturb you.”
“Not a problem.” He folded his hands on his desk and smiled. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m considering offering Stacy a position here at the hospital.”
“Wow.” He got to his feet and moved to the window, glancing across the patio to House’s office. “It’ll be just like old times.”
“Except House and Stacy now hate each other.” She looked toward him then looked away.
“And you and I are still having disagreements about House.” He didn’t turn to look at her. “Are you concerned at all? With their history?”
“People who used to be involved can manage to work together after their relationship ends.” She glanced at the door, at the bookcase, at anything but him. “Or so I’ve been told.”
“House and Stacy weren’t just sleeping together.”
She stiffened, her chin jerking slightly, acknowledging the hit. “I’ll be asking House, of course.”
“And if he says no? Are you going to defer to his inability to be anything other than a childish boy who creates a catastrophe if he doesn’t get his own way?”
“No. I’m going to hire her anyway, but at least I’ll know what to expect.”
**
She tilted her head up to him and smiled, the golden light of the lamp behind him reflecting in her eyes. “I made dinner.”
“I thought you weren’t sure I was coming?”
“I wasn’t. But I hoped you’d show up, regardless.” She pulled away and caught his hand, leading him toward the kitchen. “Come on. I made your favorite.”
“Macaroni and cheese?”
“Pigs in a blanket.”
He laughed and tugged her back toward him, bending his head to catch her in a quick kiss. “What do you say we ignore the pigs and go curl up under a blanket or two ourselves?”
“Why, Dr. Wilson.” She shook her head. “Do you honestly think I’m the kind of girl you can lure to her bedroom so easily?”
“Oh, God. I hope so.” He kissed her again, more slowly, more thoroughly, his tongue sneaking past her parted lips to taste her before he pulled away again. “Whatever it is, we can reheat it, can’t we? After we build up an appetite?”
She smiled and nodded, changing direction and leading him toward the stairs. “Just like a man, always rushing to get dessert first.”
**
“Remind me again why I did this?” Cuddy sighed as Wilson sat down across from her, her desk between them. “I mean, I had some sort of master plan, right?” She sighed again as he raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe not a well thought out master plan.”
“You invited the love of House’s life back to work in the hospital while her husband recovers from a life threatening illness that House saved him from. You assumed, obviously incorrectly, that House would hold some respect for the sanctity of marriage.”
“I never assumed House would think anything more of marriage and the vows than he does any other rule or law. If he can break them, he will.” She glanced down at her desk. “Maybe I just foolishly hoped that he’d resolve things.”
“Foolish being the operative word.”
“Operative being the operative word?” She reached out for her water and took a long sip, smirking as he nodded his head in surrender. “Besides why would you think I’d assume House would honor marriage when the more honorable men on my staff can’t manage to do so?” She shook her head rapidly. “I apologize for that.”
“Nothing wrong with saying how you feel.”
“That wasn’t about how I feel. That was about me being a bitch.” She got to her feet. “How do you think this is going to play out now?”
“I’m hoping that they’re done. But something tells me that might not be the case.”
“Nothing’s ever over when you hope it is.”
He got to his feet and didn’t look at her as he made his way to the door.
**
She stopped outside the bedroom door, leaning on it and looking at him. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, exhaling softly. “Let me in,” he whispered softly, his breath warm on her lips. She smiled automatically as she twisted the doorknob, easing into the room.
“Something tells me you were expecting I might want dessert first.”
She set her glass on the dresser and moved the side of the bed, the candlelight glinting off her white silk shirt. “Has there been a time when you haven’t?”
“Our first date didn’t start in the bedroom.”
“Our first date was three weeks after we’d had sex for the first time. And the second. And the tenth.” She laughed softly as he moved toward her. “And the twelfth, if I’m not mistaken.”
“You’re never mistaken. That’s why you’re going to make an amazing hospital administrator.” He set his drink beside hers and closed the distance between them, his fingers easily undoing the buttons of her shirt. “But you do have to admit that we didn’t go straight to the bedroom on our first date.”
“No, we had sex on the couch.” She laughed softly as he finished the last button and parted the sleek material, pushing it off her shoulders. He smoothed his hands over her camisole, tracing the lace edging with his thumb.
“You’re beautiful, Lisa.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Yeah, but I almost never mean it.” He laughed with her then leaned in, catching the soft sound in a kiss. Her mouth molded to his - warm and sweet and soft - and he thrust his tongue slowly past her lips, closing his eyes as she caught it and sucked on it, pulling him even closer.
He cupped her breasts through the fabric then slid his hands down and around her waist, catching the material in his fingers before pulling away from her and tugging it upward. It tumbled into the pile of her shirt, her bra joining the growing stack a few moments later.
His palms covered her breast and she shivered despite their warmth. He bent his head and nibbled at her earlobe, tracing the hollow beneath it with the tip of his tongue. She shivered again, pushing him away then moving in on him, maneuvering him back onto the bed. He sat down then lay back on the mattress as she placed a firm hand on his chest. “Stay.”
She walked over to the dresser and retrieved her drink, taking a small sip. He watched her mouth and neck as she swallowed, her skirt swaying around her knees as she approached him, the soft movement distracting him from the curves of her naked breasts.
She straddled him and he groaned, the fabric of her skirt covering him, sheathing his reaction to her body on his beneath the dark red material. She reached down with her free hand and began unbuttoning his shirt, leaving his tie in place. He grabbed at it and tugged it loose, pulling it over his head as she made short work of the row of buttons. “How do you know I didn’t have plans for that tie?”
He groaned again, the sound mutating to a low hiss as she spread his shirt with her hand and then poured a cool trickle of scotch onto his chest. “O…oh.”
She finished off what remained in the glass and set it on the mattress before planting her hands on either side of him and leaning down, her long hair stroking his flesh as her mouth closed over his nipple, sucking skin and scotch, the heat trapped beneath her skirt bathing his cock through his slacks.
She licked and sucked her way across to his other nipple, biting it softly as she cleaned it, eliciting a sharp inhalation from him. He could feel her smile as she moved down, the loss of heat forcing a moan from between his lips that drew out as she ran her tongue down his stomach to the hard buckle of his belt.
Her fingers moved easily, steadily. The hands of a doctor moving precisely to strip away his belt and slacks and boxers, easing her body off of him along with the clothes. He stared at her and she held his eyes as she dropped his clothes and walked back toward him. She stood up on the edge of the bed, towering over him, her skirt billowing out as she sank down onto her knees, sank down onto him, the pure, electric heat of her wet flesh sending a shock along his spine.
“Fuck.” His voice shuddered as she found his hands, lacing their fingers together as she began moving over him, her body clenching and clutching at his with every long, steady stroke. She smiled and watched him with hooded eyes. “Lisa.”
They moved in easy unison, her knees tight against his thighs as her body stroked along his cock, the tight clench of her muscles grasping and squeezing at his flesh. He tightened his grip on her hands, his eyes mesmerized by the sway and fall of her breasts, her shallow breaths as she edged closer to her orgasm.
He closed his eyes, his hips thrusting upward, his rhythm shifting as he urged her toward her release, his own body tightening as she closed around him. Heat bathed along his cock as she came, his control shattered as released her hands, grabbing her hips and holding her tight against the push of his hips.
They both panted raggedly as they slowed, Lisa leaning forward against him, the rub of the fabric of her skirt almost too rough against his sensitive skin as her breasts rested softly against his chest.
“I love you,” she whispered, the sound nearly drowned out by his own request.
“Don’t do the surgery, Lisa.”
She moved off of him quickly, her face a frozen mask. “Get out.”
“Lisa…”
She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice was thick and milky, though no tears shone in her eyes. “Now.”
**
“You think Cuddy looks good today?” House tilted his head one way and then the other. “She’s wearing those high collared sweaters again. We really need to see what we can do about stopping that.”
“You’re trying to deflect me from asking about you and Stacy.” Wilson lifted his eyes as Cuddy laughed at something one of the men she was talking to said something. “Yes, she looks good.”
House made a loud buzzing noise. “Wrong answer. Your correct answer would be, ‘I don’t know, as I only have eyes for my sweet and loving wife’.”
“Tell me again why I persist in hanging out with you?”
“You have guilt. Probably kicked a cripple some time in your past and now you’re hanging around with me to shine up your karma.” His cane hit the floor and he started walking. “Not that it’s going to do you any good. Doesn’t count if you do it on purpose.”
“So why bother to do it at all?”
“You think Cuddy’s got a thing for her handyman?”
“Can we get off the subject of Cuddy? Besides, it might be a touch unethical for her to date the guy who just won a huge lawsuit from our hospital.”
“Hmm. Maybe. Plus, Cuddy does like a man with good hands. I hear that’s why she only dates surgeons now.” He lifted both eyebrows. “Handyman’s not so handy anymore, doesn’t fit the bill.”
“Did you go somewhere to get lessons in crudeness, or does it just come naturally to you?”
“It’s a gift.” House turned around and pressed his back to his office door. “Come on. General Hospital’s on.”
**
“James.” Cuddy looked up as Stacy spoke then quickly brought her eyes back down to the chart. Wilson nodded as she moved to the door of House’s room. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“He’s my best friend.”
“Ah.” Stacy nodded and stepped back. “You don’t approve.”
“It’s not what he wanted.”
“Yes, well, neither is dying, but that was our other option. At least, that’s what his doctors tell me.” She glanced at Cuddy then back at Wilson. “Unless you’ve got a second opinion?”
“No. I’m sure Dr. Cuddy has done everything else in her power to avoid this.” He didn’t look at Cuddy as he walked to House’s bedside, staring down at his friend. “Are you prepared for the fall out, Stacy? He’s not going to be happy. Or pleasant.”
“He’s never been pleasant. He’s always been egotistical and annoying and obnoxious.”
“But he’s been happy. And that’s going to change.” He turned and crossed his arms over his chest, darting a glance at Cuddy. “He’s going to take it out on you.” He met Stacy’s gaze then turned to look at Lisa. “And you.”
“Patients don’t always like their doctors,” Cuddy informed him flatly. “I’m not trying to win a popularity contest.”
“House can hate me,” Stacy’s voice brought Wilson’s eyes back to her. “I’m okay with that.” She shook her head. “No. I’m not. But if it means that Greg will live and he’ll…have something resembling a normal life, I can live with not being a part of it. He’ll come around, James.”
“I hope so. For your sake.” He watched as Cuddy left the room and shook his head as Stacy started to say something. “Don’t.”
“Don’t let this affect you, James. That’s ridiculous.” She touched his arm softly. “Just because Greg likes being miserable, doesn’t mean he’d want you to join him.”
“Misery loves company, remember?”
“That’s what I’m for.” She smiled and hugged him, holding him too tight for a moment too long. “Remember?”
He nodded. “Will you be in the observatory?”
“No. I don’t think…I can’t.”
“I’ll let you know when it’s done.” She nodded her thanks and he squeezed her hand. Stepping outside of the room, he paused then made his way to the nurse’s station, standing beside Cuddy as she finished charting. “I’ve submitted a formal inquiry.”
“Do what you have to, Dr. Wilson.”
“I will.”
She nodded and closed the chart, meeting his eyes with her own cold gaze. “I know.”
**
“How’s Julie?”
“I’d believe you really cared if you were anyone but you.” Wilson took a pear from the basket and added it to his tray. “She’s fine.”
“I’m sure she is.” House took the pear and bit into it. “I have a question for you.”
“Is it rhetorical?”
“No.” He took another bite of the pear and smiled.
Wilson sighed. “Go ahead.”
“Why’d you really fuck things up with Cuddy?”
Coughing, Wilson stopped, ignoring the glares of everyone else in line. “That’s ancient history.”
“Yeah, well, history’s been a real popular subject around here lately. So ‘fess up.” He took another bite. “Are you going to pay for this food?” Wilson brushed past him to the cashier and handed her his money, heading for a table without looking to see if House followed him. He stabbed at his salad as Greg slid into the seat across from him. “It was me, wasn’t it?”
“Not everything in this hospital revolves around you.”
“Which is always your answer when something revolves around me.” House finished the pear and tossed the core across the room toward the trash. He watched it fall into the dark bag then turned back. “Well?”
“We don’t talk about that time in your life, remember? You weren’t pleasant. You were cold and distant…”
“And how does that differ from how I am now? And you talk to me now.”
“I talked to you then. You didn’t talk to me.”
“Right. Because Cuddy stopped being a doctor and started being an administrator and, subsequently, something of a bitch.” He smiled as Wilson’s jaw clenched. “A direct result, no doubt, of you and Julie replacing you and Cuddy, and I want to know what happened.”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
Wilson stood up, his lunch relatively untouched. “Everybody does it,” he shrugged. “Why can’t I?”
**
House glanced up as his door opened, his face dark with a scowl until he saw Wilson. “About time, you bastard.”
“It’s not as easy sneaking contraband in here as you might think.” He put the bag down on the table in front of House then shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “You’ve got your very own watchdog, remember?”
“Yeah, well, guilt is an amazing motivator.” He opened the bag and smiled. “She’s going to kill you if she sees this.”
“She’s going to know it’s from me if she sees it, so let’s make sure she doesn’t.” He leaned back against the wall, his hands still deep in his coat. “Greg…” He shook his head as House looked up. “I’ve got something else for you.”
“You always sound so dirty when you say that. Tell me it’s a ‘get out of therapy free’ card.”
“Not quite.” He pulled his hand from his pocket and tossed the envelope in front of House. “I’ve got rounds.”
House’s eyebrow shot up as he picked up the envelope. He turned it over and started to speak when the door opened and Cuddy strode in. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is, House.”
“Shouldn’t you call me Mr. House while I’m your patient?” He grabbed the bag out of her reach and stuffed it down beside his bed. “And shouldn’t you be nice to me?”
“I am being nice,” she reminded him as she to the opposite side of his bed, ignoring Wilson. She adjusted House’s bed into an upright position and helped him lean forward. Moving closer, she slid her stethoscope against his back. “Breathe.”
“You know what the problem with you dating Wilson is, Cuddy?” She looks down at him, her expression blank as he sends a darting glance toward her chest. “I have to stop making inappropriate comments about your breasts.”
She leaned him back against his pillow and moved the scope to his chest. “You don’t make inappropriate comments about my breasts, Greg.”
“Well, now I can’t start.” He leaned back as she finished and waved the envelope at her. “I’m pretty sure it’s a rule, except in soap operas and trashy romance novels.” He glanced at Wilson watching him for a moment as he stared at Cuddy. His scowl returning, House glanced down at the envelope and then at Wilson again, ripping the cream colored paper open. “Julie Anderson?”
Wilson lifted his chin, but didn’t say anything. His eyes were focused somewhere beyond Cuddy, who didn’t look up, didn’t react as she wrote in House’s chart.
“Who the fuck is Julie Anderson?”
Cuddy put down his chart and walked beside him, lifting the sheet off his leg. “Dr. Remington is going to start your rehab.” She dropped the gown back and reached down for the bag, stuffing it into the pocket of her lab coat. “Looks like you and I are all finished.”
House’s gaze stayed locked on Wilson, his eyes flashing. “Nice working with you then, Dr. Cuddy.”
“Well, you’re not quite through with me in that regard, Greg.” She tilted her head, watching him curiously, her movements slightly off-kilter as she continued to avoid Wilson. “Assuming you’re coming back to work.”
“Are you kidding?” He smiles slyly, nodding toward her blouse. “Miss seeing you and the girls every day?”
Wilson’s gaze snapped to House’s then down to Cuddy’s chest. He started to speak when Cuddy’s voice cut him off, her voice rich with laughter edged with the thickness of the glaze of tears in her eyes. “The girls and I will await your return.”
**
“Rumor has it you have a date.”
Cuddy didn’t look up as she reached behind her to adjust the strap of her shoe. “Despite what House might have you believe, this isn’t a soap opera, and as such, my personal life bears no discussion.”
“House would say that’s because you don’t have a personal life.”
“House is also an ass. Is that what you’re trying to emulate these days? Does that go over well on the oncology floor?”
“Sorry.” Wilson walked into the office and sank into one of the chairs across from her desk. “Who is he?”
“None of your business.” She grabbed two folders off her desk and shoved them into her briefcase. “None of House’s either, for that matter, just in case you’ve got some sort of bet running or something.”
“Another doctor?”
“What do you want, James?” She sighed and sat down at her desk, hands folded on the flat surface. “You want to believe that I’m pining away for you or something? It’s been five years, and just because House and Stacy feel the need to rekindle old flames and get burned again, doesn’t mean that I have any desire to.” She stood again and tugged the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Whether or not I have a date is none of your business, and I’m sure your wife would tell you the same.”
“I’m sleeping in my office.”
She stopped and glanced down at the floor, taking a deep breath. “Maybe you should be talking to Stacy too then. I’m sure she could give you the name of a good lawyer.”
**
“So, let me get this straight.” The hard thump of House’s cane punctuated his steps as they walked down the corridor. “You went to Asmussen?”
“I did.”
“And ruined your relationship with Cuddy.”
Wilson blew out a breath. “Yeah. I did that too.”
“All for little old me?” House stopped and leaned against his cane, one hand over his heart. “I’d be touched if you weren’t such an idiot.”
“Ending things with Cuddy wasn’t about you. And going to Asmussen wasn’t about Lisa, and how am I an idiot? They were skirting around the law even though you’d signed for the medical coma. They were playing fast and loose with your life.”
“You’re an idiot because A) Stacy is a lawyer and playing fast and loose is what she does…and not just in the bedroom.”
“You’re routinely disgusting.”
House ignored him. “B) Because regardless of what the legal ramifications were, Stacy did have power of attorney and I had signed the release.” He shifted and started walking again. “C) They were right.”
“What?”
House shrugged one shoulder and stopped, leaning against his office door. “They did the right thing. They did what I would have done if it had been me as the doctor and not the patient.” He shoved open the door and walked in, heading straight for his desk. “It may not have been entirely ethical, but I think I’d have to be in a bit of a masochistic mood to bring anyone to the table for that.”
“Greg…”
“Not to mention the fact,” House ignored him again, “that you ruined a perfectly good thing with Cuddy, you’re probably going to fuck up this marriage to this poor, unsuspecting girl, and Cuddy, for her exemplary duty and skill, not to mention upholding the letter of science and the law, is now, for all intents and purposes, our boss.” He sank into his chair and rubbed his shoulder. “I hate that damn cane.”
“I’m sure you’ll grow to love it. Think of the advantages - you can poke nurses with it. You can slam it on the floor or the desk or the table for attention.”
“I can shove it up your ass when you’re being dense.” House raised his eyebrows pointedly. “Plus, the chicks dig it.”
“Good to see your priorities are in order.”
“Hey, the last one was Cuddy’s addition to the argument.” He smiled. “You think she’s got a thing for me?”
“Can you think with something above your waistline?”
House shook his head, tsking. “Now, now. You don’t get to be the jealous boyfriend once you turn in your ‘have sex every night free’ card.” He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “You think she’ll be a good boss? Is she good with a whip?”
“Since she’ll need it to keep you in shape?”
“Mmm.”
“Shut up, House.”
**
He jerked awake, sitting up in the darkness of the room. His breath came fast and hard as he looked around, his eyes adjusting. The soft click of the door caught his attention and he leaned back, swallowing hard. “What time is it?”
“Early. Four.”
He rubbed his eyes with the ball of his hand and squinted at the vague outline of her. “What are you doing here?”
She laughed softly and he could see the shift of movement as she shrugged. “I don’t really know.”
“House has a surgery in a few hours. I figure it’s my duty to the hospital and family to be there in case everything goes to hell.” She walked further into the room as he reached out and snapped on the small lamp beside his couch. It cast a golden halo of light around the room, on her as she sat in one of his leather chairs. “Picking up the pieces.”
“You do more than that.”
“Scatter them to the wind?” She shook her head. “Why are you sleeping in your office, James?”
“Julie doesn’t seem to like me very much right now.” He laughed, the sound too flat to be bitter. “Or at all.”
“I’m sure you’re just going through a rough patch.”
“I’m going through a divorce.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch. “A very messy, very ugly divorce that involved charges of adultery and irreconcilable differences and mental anguish, though I think she’s going after Greg for that last one.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I haven’t told anyone.” He shrugged. “What’s the point? My marital history is a running joke around here. Why add fuel to the flames? Besides, I understand there’s a pool going on as to when we’re going to get divorced, so I thought I’d play it close to the vest and see if I can get in on some of the action.”
“James.”
“What good would telling you have done, Lisa?” He opened his eyes, pinning her with his gaze. “She cheated on me. She accused me of working too many hours and caring more about the dead and dying and that stupid misanthropic son of a bitch than I do about her. And she’s not wrong.”
“I wouldn’t have asked how she was.”
“You asking about Julie was always to get back at me. The only reason you wouldn’t ask would be if you thought I didn’t care how Julie was.” He got to his feet and opened the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a folded shirt. “I have rounds. I need to shower.”
He started to walk past her, stopping when her hand grabbed his. She didn’t look up at him as she released him, her voice soft as the sound of the hospital awakening filtered in around them. “I am sorry.”
His hand lifted to her face, his knuckles grazing her cheek. “So am I.”
**
“Can you explain this to me?”
Cuddy looked up from her desk and met Wilson’s eyes. “It appears to be a piece of paper. Originated in China as far as the history goes. The strange markings on it are called letters, made by what the Indians call ink.”
“Maybe you should cut back the amount of time you’re spending with House.”
“Maybe you should rephrase your question into something meaningful.” She tapped the folder in front of her with her pen. “I have work to do.”
“This.” He set the paper in front of her, pulling his hand back as she picked it up.
“Clinic hours schedule.”
“Yes.”
“And now that riddle’s solved.” She released the paper and let it float back to her desk as she turned her attention back to the folder. Wilson grabbed the sheet and placed it squarely in front of her. “Is there a problem of some sort, Dr. Wilson?”
“I requested this week off, Dr. Cuddy.” He pointed to the last week of the month. “And yet, for some reason, I’m on full rotation of clinic and office hours.”
“It’s a bad time of year for cancer,” She snapped. “I don’t make the schedule.”
“No. But you approve all vacation requests.” He pulled his hand back and waited. “And, strangely enough, you didn’t approve mine.”
“You’ve already requested your maximum allowed time off, Dr. Wilson. According to my records, you were gone the first two weeks of the year and have already been scheduled for a week in August. As that request was received prior to this most current one, it takes precedence. That is why your request was refused.”
“And you knowing that the week off in August was meant to be spent with you on the lake didn’t make you think that maybe I wouldn’t need that time anymore?”
“I certainly don’t pretend to know what you do with your time outside of the hospital, Dr. Wilson. For all I know, you had arranged to take your soon-to-be wife with you to the lake.”
“To your cabin?”
“There are others.” She reached into her desk drawer and removed a large notebook. Flipping through the pages, she stopped at August. “So, you don’t need the week in August off?”
“No.”
“Fine.” She crossed his name off and moved back to June, writing his name in large, block letters across the final week. “I’ll get the message to scheduling right away.”
“Thank you,” he bit out. “I’m so glad to know that, whatever there was between us, our business relationship will remain the same.”
“If you even think that I have any sort of personal vendetta regarding your choice of vacation dates or places, Dr. Wilson, you might wish to think again. I could care less when or where you choose to go and who or what you choose to do. The only thing I care about is that you get exactly the amount of vacation time allotted to you. No more, no less.”
“Oh, no. Of course it’s not personal, Dr. Cuddy.”
“No more personal than this little diatribe of yours, Dr. Wilson.” She slammed the notebook closed and folded her hands together on top of it, her knuckles white with tension. “Best wishes on your marriage.”
“Is this going to keep you warm, Lisa?”
“That’s none of your business, Dr. Wilson. But you should know this, regardless of whether or not it keeps me warm, it certainly doesn’t question my abilities or my judgment and it sure as hell doesn’t use me the way you did. Good night.”
“Good night.” He nodded once, his jaw and spine stiff. “Dr. Cuddy.”
**
The door opened slowly and Wilson managed a smile as he held up the bottle of wine. “I come bearing gifts.”
Her face didn’t change, though something flashed in her eyes. “So I see.”
“Can I come in?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and pressed her lips together. “I don’t know that that’s wise.”
“It’s not.” He nodded. “But can I do it anyway?”
She caught her lower lip between her finger and thumb and shifted nervously before nodding once and backing away from the door. He walked in slowly, holding out the wine. She took the bottle and glanced at the label. “Nice.” She closed the door behind him as he took off his coat. “Would you like a glass?”
“No. No, thanks.” He shook his head as she turned and carried the bottle off to the kitchen, returning with a glass in her hand. He settled on the couch, his hands between his spread knees. “Do you ever wonder why they say ‘until death do you part’ anymore?”
“No.”
“I mean, look at divorce rates in this country. Not just mine.” He laughed, the sound somewhat bitter. “Marriages used to last. Now they don’t. It’s too easy to walk away, too easy to get out.”
“If you let it be.” She sat opposite him, tucking one leg underneath her. “I think each person has to make a choice, make a stand.” She shrugged and took a sip of her wine. “Make a vow.”
“I got married for the wrong reasons.”
Her jaw tightened slightly and she managed a nod with another sip of wine. “You did.”
“And to the wrong woman.”
“That I can’t answer for you.” She set her glass down on the table and sighed softly. “James…”
“I’ve been lecturing House and he’s not doing anything I’m not doing. I’m still in love with a woman who isn’t my wife.”
“You’re not trying to break up a marriage…”
“But I am.” He got to his feet and moved around the couch, pacing the length of it. “The only difference is that I’m not trying to break up someone else’s marriage.”
“I think you should go, James.” She got to her feet as well and moved to the door, stilling as he came up to her, his hand wrapped around her arm. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “Please.”
“I never stopped loving you, Lisa.”
“No. I know you didn’t.” She turned slowly and reached up, brushing his lips with her fingers, smiling as they parted. “But you never quite loved me enough.”