Rp for l_cuddy_md
House ended up going back to his room, after meeting that blonde woman down in the lobby. He'd had a crap enough day as it was; the way the morning had turned out with Cuddy, meeting Wilson in the bar, getting punched in the face by John. Yeah, he wasn't interested in his day getting any more crap than it already was, and hanging around downstairs
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"No," he replied with a look of disgust at the idea of pickle being on his sandwich. He scowled down at her innocent look, sitting down with a slump on the bed. He put his cane aside, then rolled onto his stomach and crawled up towards Cuddy, and he lightly bit her ass in (playful) retaliation before continuing up towards her. Before she could roll over to face him, House crawled on top of her so that she was trapped on her belly beneath his body, though he put some of his weight on his hands so as not to squash her.
"You order pickle with my Reuben, there'll be no pickle surprise for you tomorrow morning," he declared.
One thing House did to be annoying was be playful, especially when the woman he was with was annoyed. He'd done that a lot to Stacy when they were together, and it drove her insane, though she usually ended up laughing, no matter how much she resented him for it. And Cuddy had seemed pretty annoyed at him for telling her to shut up, and he really didn't want to talk about relationship/not-relationship thing with her, in spite that he'd wanted to earlier. So, he was going to seize the vantage point and opportunity to playfully annoy her.
Keeping Cuddy trapped beneath him, he lowered his face to the side of her neck to deliberately tickle it with his bristles. As she squirmed, he trapped her more beneath him and nuzzled his face in closer just to annoy her more. "Don't try to fight it, there's no escape," he said in a low, playful voice, knowing full well she hadn't ordered pickle on his Reuben at all. "No ordering of pickle on my Reuben goes unpunished."
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"I don't need your pickle," she claimed. The way House was laying against her, her ass was fitted against his groin. She pushed up, rubbing her ass against said 'pickle' to tease him. "As long as your mouth's in working order, I don't need your pickle at all."
She knew what he was doing. He didn't want to deal with this thing, but he also didn't want her mad at him for refusing to deal with it so he was trying to divert her attention by being silly and annoying. She didn't need much diverting. She'd said what she felt she needed to say. She was confident House knew what she'd been thinking and she wasn't going to bang her head against a wall if he didn't want to pursue it.
"Never expected you to be such a 'pickle' tease," she added under her breath.
She wasn't really mad anyway. All the loose ends bothered her little administrator's mind. She liked things neat and tidy. So of course it made perfect sense she'd get more deeply involved with a man who practically defined untidy. He wouldn't even iron his shirts, for pity's sake.
"Jerk," she gasped, squirming more vigorously when he started rubbing his stubbled face against her neck. He had her pinned too well, though. Her lower legs were the only part she move much, and that wasn't very helpful. Her hands were trapped under her chest, and she tried to work one free so she could get a little more leverage. Or pinch him, if she had to. She knew if she really needed him to stop, he would. House might be an obnoxious, even hurtful jerk at times, but he would never hurt a woman. Not when he was in control of himself, anyway. The way he'd grabbed her when he wanted his pills was an aberration. He hadn't been thinking clearly. She believed that absolutely.
"I swear, House, if you don't stop I'll shave you in your sleep." She turned her head from side to side, trying to escape the sandpaper rasp of his beard, but he simply switched sides every time she did. Then she let out a snort of amusement. "That might not be all I shave either."
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"You shave me, I'll find another way to torture you," he said. "Don't think I'm easily thwarted."
He jerked back when she tried to squirm away again, and let out an amused laugh at her wrestling against him, before he managed to get his face in against the side of her neck again, torturing it with his lips and tongue in an attempt to find a ticklish spot on her. And when located it, he was merciless, licking and flicking his tongue over the spot until Cuddy was wrestling too much for him to be able to keep her pinned down and tickle her at the same time. Of course, he'd stop if she really wanted him to. He might have lost control of himself when he was desperate for his pills, but House didn't hurt women. He had no respect for people who did purposely hurt women.
House let out another chortle as the struggle became a little more competitive, and he somehow managed to tangle his fingers within hers when she finally got her hands free. He attacked her neck one more time, before he pressed a kiss to her neck and it took him a few attempts to kiss her neck softly for her to work out he was trying to be nice for a change. He kissed up her neck to her jaw, then up to her cheek, gripping her hands tight in his. And just as she relaxed... House stole the opportunity to dive his face back into the side of her neck and attacked her again with his tongue.
He rolled off her with a triumphant, obnoxious laugh, though didn't back off with torturing her. He was on a roll now: spooned up behind her, he reached his hand down to the back of her thigh to grope around for a ticklish spot, and when he located it he mercilessly tickled her before his hand shot up to her belly and groped her there in another merciless attack of tickling. He kept dashing his hand around spots on her body before she could snatch a proper hold on his hand, tickling her thigh, her waist, at one point managed to get his hand between her thighs to attack her groin. He eventually let her win and was grinning broadly and cheekily by the time she got a hold of him.
"Uh-oh," he said, not at all seriously as he wrestled easily with her, letting her have most the power over him. "Cuddy's cranky."
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She let out a muffled yelp when he switched to using his tongue. The beard was annoying, but the tickling hit a nerve that sent a shudder through her body. She cringed against the onslaught, but at the same time pushed back harder, hard enough to finally free her hands...which House promptly captured. She relaxed only slowly when he began to kiss her neck, breathing hard from the mock struggle. She didn't trust him as far as she could throw him, which turned out to be not very far. He rolled off her, but only because he wanted to, and only far enough to gain access to more vulnerable areas of her body.
"What are you? Twelve?" Her brothers had loved to gang up on her in tickle fights when they were growing up. Obviously, none of them had been nude at the time and they certainly hadn't touched her some of the places House did, but the sense of helpless, reflexive reaction to the tickling felt the same.
"Oh, please--you've seen me cranky. This isn't even close," she said as she pushed him to his back. She straddled him and grabbed his wrists, pinning his hands up by his shoulders. She was fully aware that he'd let her take control, and fully aware that she simply didn't have the strength or weight to hold him down if he didn't want to be held. She highly expected he wouldn't want to be held down if she started to tickle him. Or tried to do anything else to him.
She glared down at him, still breathing hard and trying to buy a little time to think of the appropriate response, one she had half a chance of enacting. She leaned forward, fixing him with her gaze. "Suddenly, I'm regretting the lack of handcuffs."
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And he wasn't, either. Having his wrists held like this was one thing; having himself bound with handcuffs would be something else entirely, something he'd not be comfortable with at all. Besides, he knew her remark was just in fun. "Hot as it would be to see you exert your power over me for sexual gratification," he continued, "withholding my right to touch would just be incredibly unfair and non-beneficial. Beneficial to you, maybe. But not to me."
He started to wrestle with her, stretching his arms up above his head so that Cuddy was unbalanced and had no choice but to flop forward. He stretched his arms as much as he could so that Cuddy was face to face with him, and smirked at her. "You're not used to having fun with someone, are you?" he asked teasingly.
Though, the moment he said it, he realised the question rang true to him, too. He hadn't had fun with anyone like he'd been having with Cuddy, in a long time. And as childish as he could be and as much as Cuddy mightn't have appreciated being tickled mercilessly... it was actually a lot of fun, being with her, when they weren't fighting. He stretched his arms a little more until her mouth was within reach of his, and he kissed her teasingly, then kissed her again, slowly drawing her into a deep kiss. He twisted one hand free from her grasp and reached down to her back, lightly stroking his hand over her skin.
"Mmm," he murmured when the kiss ended. "See? Handcuffs aren't beneficial."
Just then, a knock sounded at the door, room service with his Rueben.
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House was looking so pleased with himself that she was giving serious consideration to biting him. Not hard enough to do damage, just enough to make him rethink his position on the whole fairness issue. But instead she stared at him, momentarily dumbstruck by his question. She'd told him she was a fun person, and she was, but no, she wasn't used to having fun. With anyone. There were a handful of people, mostly old friends, with whom she was comfortable enough to relax and have fun, but those were also people she didn't see all that often. And none of them was someone she could let go with on a physical or sexual level. The fact that she could have fun with House was part of what made this thing between them so attractive even while it was so confusing.
She resisted his attempt to kiss her at first, pulling away as much as she could while he still had her stretched against him, but when he deepened the kiss she relaxed. Her grip on his wrists slackened a bit as she concentrated on exploring his mouth almost delicately, sliding her tongue lightly along his. Maybe she could lure him into a false sense of security and then...and then....
She sighed when the knock came at the door. "Lucky you--saved by the bell...boy." She gave his nipple a quick twist as she slid off him, just a reminder that she owed him for the tickling. She grabbed her robe from the side of the bed and slipped it on as she walked to the door. She didn't bother to belt it, just held it closed with one hand as she took the plate with the other.
Door closed and locked against any further interruptions, she handed the plate with the sandwich and chips to House. She let her robe drop to the floor and slid under the sheet on the other side of the bed. She propped her pillow against the headboard and settled back.
"Some five-star hotel," she said in mock indignation, gesturing at his plate. "They forgot the pickle."
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"Just as well," he replied, pulling a face, though because his mouth was full of food his words were distorted. He gestured to his plate impatiently while trying to swallow his mouthful. "Pickle would contaminate this," he added once he'd swallowed, picking up another chip. "If you had ordered this with pickle, I'd have demanded a prompt replacement Reuben and some kind of compensation on your part. Or maybe just make you eat the pickle."
He busied himself with taking another bite of the sandwich, followed by a few chips. "This tastes better than the Reuben they offer back in Princeton," he said as he angled the sandwich up to his mouth for another bite. He paused for a moment, his comment causing a sudden flashback of memories of Princeton, of the hospital, of his job. It was tough to think he'd been succeeded by Foreman of all people, even if it was only temporary, though House doubted the whole Diagnostics department would survive. Because, well, Cuddy had helped him set that department up and... He frowned, shaking the thoughts from his mind and took a bite of his food.
"Wonder what we're supposed to do with ourselves in here?" he remarked as he chewed, leaning back against the headboard. "Job prospects? What could people possibly offer a place that has everything it needs?" He looked across at Cuddy. "Chip?" he asked, holding the plate towards Cuddy.
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She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees as House dug into his food. Her expression grew pensive as he mentioned Princeton. She couldn't help but wonder what was happening there, how the hospital was doing, even though it apparently wasn't her concern anymore. They'd have a new Dean by now. The Diagnostics department would've been absorbed back into the Department of Internal Medicine now that House was gone and his fellows would've scattered to other places. Oncology, too, would have a new director. A lot of changes for the hospital to make in a short time, but she knew how it worked. The changes would be made and life would go on and only a few people would even think about the days that she, House, and Wilson had been there.
"This place is the perfect set up for a hedonist, but for the rest of us...." Cuddy shook off House's offer of a chip and considered his question. She supposed that a few people would be just as happy to while away their time, but she certainly couldn't imagine passing the rest of her days in idle pursuits. It was the same problem she'd had adjusting all along, her need to have some kind of purpose.
"There is a clinic. I suppose the three of us could take shifts, assuming anyone needed medical attention." She tilted her head, looking sideways at House. "You could go back to avoiding your shifts. It'd be just like home."
Even if manning the clinic could provide enough work to keep them busy, she wasn't sure she wanted to do that yet. It was tempting, but like Wilson had said--she didn't want to get too comfortable here. Not unless or until she knew there was no other option.
"Wilson and I are going to try to organize a meeting of all the guests," she said hesitantly. She knew House hated being here as much as she did, but he'd been extremely resistant to considering the possibility of escape. She suspected he was simply trying to avoid more disappointment, but the bottom line was that she wasn't sure how much support he'd give to the idea of a meeting.
"We want to pool everyone's knowledge and information, see if there's anything useful."
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The sour look on House's face soured even more when Cuddy then went on to say about her and Wilson organising a meeting. He looked down to his meal and concentrated on feeding himself a few more chips followed by a bite of his sandwich before looking back to Cuddy as he chewed. "And you really think," he began after he swallowed the majority of his mouthful, "that a bunch of freaks and everyday morons are going to have the answer to getting out of here?"
It was true: House was dead against the idea of attempting to escape because he truly didn't want to avoid disappointment if his attempts failed. He hated failure, he hated being defeated, and the last thing he wanted was something as big as this Hotel proving him defeated. So, it was easier to pretend there was no escape whatsoever and therefore no point in trying to escape so that he couldn't be proven right and proved a failure in the process.
Not only that, but after going home for those twenty-four hours... House didn't like the idea of returning to a place where he was completely forgotten and treated as dead.
"And what if you do find a way out of here?" he pressed on, now looking at Cuddy challengingly. "What're you going to do then? Go back home, where your house is probably sold up and where your job belongs to someone else, and where everybody will just look at you and go, 'Who the hell are you?'? You do get home, you'll probably find all your assets seized, all your bank accounts shut and an epitaph in the cemetary with 'Lisa Cuddy: Dead (we think)'."
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That's what she was counting on, of course. Her hope was that one of the unusual guests at the hotel would have some knowledge that would give them an answer. Or maybe just that one of the 'freaks' would be capable of thinking outside the box. It wouldn't be any different to what House did all the time, finding a unique perspective on a problem. He did it with diseases; maybe one of the guests could do it with a creepy hotel.
Cuddy met House's gaze as he reminded her--again--that she had nothing left at home. He was right, but he was ignoring the fact that at home there was the possibility of having something. The alternative was the Hotel, and what kind of life could that be? The only truly good thing that she'd found here was having sex with House and that wasn't a purpose. It wasn't a goal. And frankly, it wasn't something they could do 24/7. There's be a whole lot of empty hours to fill.
"Maybe it's different for you. You had everything you wanted--mostly--and now it's gone," she said. She knew all too well how much that hurt. It had been enough to knock her on her ass, too. Everything she'd worked so hard for had been tossed out, apparently without a second thought.
"But for me...I only had half of what I wanted. And going home proved that half wasn't worth much," she continued. A career had been great, it's what she'd worked for, but she'd truly missed the boat when it came to home and family. That's what she wasn't ready to give up on.
She gave a small shrug, knowing House had pretty much eliminated the concept of hope from his life. She wasn't sure he'd understand her need to hope. She was pretty sure he wouldn't approve of it.
"I still want that other half. Going home would be a second chance to have it. Try to have it, anyway. I'm not going to get that chance here."
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But what if he got out of here, or was for some reason kicked out of here if the Hotel ever had enough of him for whatever purpose, and found himself back in Princeton? No job, no money, no home, nobody. He started to scowl darkly at Cuddy as these thoughts went through his mind.
"The other half," he said snidely. "Right. The other half being what? Marriage? Kids? A relationship with some guy who's not Mr. Lameass Can't Get A Woman To Save His Life from the internet?" He brushed his hands over his plate to clean them of crumbs, then turned away to set the plate down with a firm slap on the side table.
House then looked back to Cuddy. "Here's a thought for you," he continued in a snippy tone. "I'm pushing fifty. I'm crippled. I've been fired from four jobs before you were stupid enough to take me on. I now have no home, no money, in this day and age pushing fifty and crippled is deemed virtually unemployable, and I'd say my chances of surviving back home, should I ever end up back there, are about zero to none. Easy for you to say that you still want 'the other half'."
He was starting to get angry, because thinking about this kind of thing made him panic. He didn't like thinking about it -- another reason why he didn't like thinking about escape because what would become of him if he did end up back home? He started to shove the sheets back, with the intention of getting out of bed to go... somewhere. To pace or go to the bathroom or something.
"Given your age and how much your choice in men sucks, I'm willing to bet your stab at a second chance would be just as negligible back home, too."
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"So stay here," she sniped back when he pointed out all the reasons he didn't want to go home. "If you're so sure this is better, stay. Just don't expect everyone else to stay because you're afraid to go home."
"Thanks so much. It's always heartwarming to hear your low opinion of me." Her mouth snapped shut at House's final jab. She yanked the sheet up, clutching it to her chest as she gave an angry shake of her head. "Do you think that you're the first person to tell me I'm not good enough, that I don't deserve the things I want?
"The medical profession, especially at the administrative level, is still very much an old boy's club. And those old boys didn't want me--young, female--crashing their party. And every time one of them told me I wasn't good enough, I worked twice as hard, twice as smart. Every time they tried to stop me, I found a way around. I became one of the youngest Deans of Medicine because I refused to accept that I didn't deserve it."
She crossed her arms over her chest, her chin jutted out defiantly. She didn't know how to convince House that the situation wasn't as dire as he thought. That if they got home they'd figure something out. Maybe it would take the three of them--she, House and Wilson--working together, but they'd manage. She didn't know how to make him understand that, but she wasn't going to let him convince her otherwise in the meantime.
"So go ahead--tell me I'm not good enough. It just increases my motivation to succeed."
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He gave her a look of complete frustration at the things she said, about the administrative level treating Cuddy like she was undeserving because she was female. That hadn't been the point House was aiming for at all. While he certainly made it clear enough times about what he thought of her doctoring skills, and while he continually undermined her position as boss, he did think she was good at her job and did respect her for that. More than that, he was grateful underneath all his sarcasm for the fact that Cuddy let him keep his job, and for helping him establish the diagnostics department. He didn't know what might've become of him after the infarction had he not had his job to keep him going, and he didn't want to know.
Well... he was looking at that now, in a way. What he was now was more or less his worst fears back home. Unemployed with nothing to keep him going except... well. He didn't really know what there was in this place to keep him going. He'd spent a good deal of his time obsessing over Vicodin and medication, and detox to really stop and think about that. He didn't want to start thinking about that, either, in case he came up without any answers.
The look of frustration on his face turned bewildered. "Not good enough for what?" he shot back. "Not good enough to have a life of things you deserve and want? That's bullshit! You only think I don't think you're good enough."
He started to turn away to reach for his cane, then changed his mind, and faced back to Cuddy. "Sure, you suck at relationships if you still being single is anything to go by," he continued in a loud, angry voice, "and you haven't practiced proper medicine in well over ten years, and you have this belief in the world being the way you want it to be -- but that doesn't mean you're not good enough. I don't for a second believe that."
House took a couple of limped steps from the bed, realising how stupid he must have looked, standing here naked while fighting with Cuddy. "And if you seriously think that's what I think of you, then all I can say is you take everything I say way too literally. You should know better than that," he finished indignantly.
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"That's not even the point," she continued. She wasn't sure any more what the point was. It had all started with a simple mention of a meeting, but then he'd started pushing her buttons. She'd be damned if she'd let anyone tell her what she could or couldn't do. Whatever his opinion was of her, however, it didn't change her determination to leave.
"I get that you don't think there's anything left for you at home, but what is there for you here?" She was genuinely confused by House's reluctance to even consider going home. She knew he wasn't happy about being stuck here, so how scared was he of returning if he didn't even want to try? And what was he frightened of? Not being able to work? Well, obviously she wouldn't be able to help with that anymore, but she believed that someone would be willing to take a chance on him. He still had his genius.
She needed to talk to him face to face, not hope that he was listening while he paced, so she tossed the sheet back and swung her legs over the side of the bed. But just as she rose from the bed she was hit with a wave of nausea. She quickly sat back down, feeling lightheaded, and took slow breaths through her mouth until the nausea subsided.
"If we get home, you won't have nothing," she said quietly. "You'll have me. And Wilson. That's not nothing."
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"I never said there was anything for me here," House argued. "But I had a taste of what going home from here is like, so did you, and do you seriously think I want that to be my life, too?"
Just as he was about to continue with his tirade, he saw Cuddy stand up and then slump back to the bed, looking suddenly pale. "What's wrong?" House asked. He watched her catching her breath, wondering why she'd suddenly look ill. Of course, he wasn't aware that she'd taken emergency contraception.
He began to head towards her, stopping short of the bed when she spoke next. Given how strained everything was between Wilson and himself, House wondered if he'd ever really have the bond he had with Wilson before entering this hotel, back again. And as for Cuddy... Yeah, he was worried he'd lose his bond with her, too, if he was to be honest with himself. Wilson and Cuddy were the people closest to him, Wilson especially.
"A lot of things can change," he replied warily. "Sex changes a lot of things."
Look how much it had changed his friendship with Wilson. Not that Cuddy knew that. But sex with Cuddy, too -- it changed a lot of things. His bizarre feelings of possessiveness had a lot to do with that, too.
He gave an impatient toss of his head, not wanting to discuss any of that -- sex, or change, or what he would or wouldn't have back home if he was to return. He moved closer to Cuddy until he was standing in front of her, and peered down at her.
"You take something?" he asked.
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It wasn't worth arguing about either. There was no patient's life hanging in the balance this time. Either she was wrong or he was, but there was no way to know unless and until they found a way home.
"Just drop it, okay? I'm sorry I brought it up." She glanced up at him and shrugged. She didn't need House's approval to do what she believed in, and he didn't need her for...pretty much anything. "We could argue about this for days...weeks...and it won't change anything."
Cuddy leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her head in her hands. The nausea was tolerable, but it was one more reason she simply wasn't up to arguing with House any more. She'd ignored House's first question about whether she was okay, hoping he'd forget. She should've known better than to think she could hide anything from him, not for long. Hell, the only reason she'd hidden it to begin with was because she didn't want to deal with him freaking out over the possibility of pregnancy. She'd had her own quiet freak over it, she didn't need his.
"After what happened this morning, I took four times the normal dose of birth control pills, as an emergency contraceptive. And then I took another four." Her words were a little muffled since she still had her head in her hands. She didn't know how he'd react to the information, but maybe it was time she stopped trying to anticipate, let alone manage his reactions. She wasn't any good at it and he just got angrier every time she tried.
She lifted her head, waiting a second to make sure her stomach wouldn't protest the movement. "Kind of got a hormone overload going here. Makes me queasy."
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