Inquiry: Day Ten, 9 a.m. - Dr. Lisa Cuddy 6

[zeppomarx]

Title: InquiryAuthor: zeppomarx
Characters: All the usual suspects, plus more.
Summary: When a panel is convened to review the facts of Gregory House’s life, his fellows (past and present), colleagues, patients and friends are called to testify.
Thanks: To Brigid45, for her infinite wisdom and advice.
Warnings, etc.: Possible character death.
Disclaimers: Don't own House or any of the show's characters. If I did, things might have gone a little differently.
Chapter Summary: Testimony of Dr. Lisa Cuddy 6


Day Ten, 9 a.m. -- Friday

Cuddy pulled herself together overnight, focusing again on how she had felt when House drove through her dining room, the sheer terror of wondering if he was going to kill her or her guests. Thank goodness that Rachel wasn’t home to witness the destruction. By the time she settled herself into the hard chair before the panel, she found her rage against House returning. No, she decided, her blaze of anger at the crash site wasn’t anything like the moment when he lost control and drove his car into her home.

“Let’s pick up where we left off,” said the panel chair, looking through his notes.

No, let’s not, thought Cuddy irritably.

“Tell us what happened when the two of you returned to work.”

She took a breath and launched into the details. “Well, the first thing I wanted to do was to report our relationship status change to the HR department and sign love contracts. That turned out to be a little more complicated than I’d hoped.” You ever see Wild Kingdom? House had said, being as annoying as he possibly could. Those insects that rip their partner's heads off after copulating? And yet, he wasn’t that far off, was he? After their breakup, they had pretty much ripped each other’s heads off. She’d done it by breaking up with him so abruptly, stripping him of her presence in his life with no warning. He’d done it by finally… finally… losing his temper while behind the wheel of a car.

If there was one thing in her past she wished she could change, it would be getting involved with Gregory House in the first place. It was a bad idea, which, of course, House had figured out almost immediately, and there was no way a relationship between them was going to do anything but cause both of them excruciating emotional pain. What had she been thinking? Well, to be truthful, she hadn’t been thinking. She’d turned off her brain and blindly followed her emotions.

“In what way was it more complicated?”

“Well, the HR people felt it would be better -- and I agreed -- that I shouldn’t be supervising House any longer. But they couldn’t seem to find anyone to do the job.”

“Do you know who they approached to step in for you in the capacity?”

“From what I understand, they tried all the other department heads at the hospital, but no one was willing to take on the job.”

“Department heads… in other words, House’s equals?”

“Yes.”

“Was it possible that someone other than a department head might have been willing to do it?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“I was thinking along the lines of a board member, or perhaps even an administrator from another hospital nearby… someone more objective.”

Cuddy shook her head. “To be honest, I hadn’t considered that. After HR told me they hadn’t been able to find anyone, I really thought I’d be able to handle it myself. After all, I’d been supervising him for years by that point.”

“How did it work out having you continue to supervise him?”

Cuddy sighed. “It didn’t work out at all well. At first, I sincerely believed I could compartmentalize my life, keeping the professional interactions with House separate from the personal. It was a lot harder than I anticipated, and I don’t think I did either of us -- or the hospital -- any good during that time. My objectivity was compromised.”

“Could you give us some examples of how this played out, Dr. Cuddy? We’re not trying to put you on the spot… even if it has seemed that way at times. We’re just trying to gather information about what led up to the later problems. I realize we haven’t mentioned this before, but let me assure you that before we started interviewing witnesses, we thoroughly researched Dr. House -- carefully reviewing his case files, personnel files, legal issues, complaints about him from patients and other doctors, medical history, and so on.

“We are well aware of his negative traits, his borderline -- and sometimes more than borderline -- illegal and unethical manner of treating patients, his personal recklessness and self-destructive - possibly even suicidal - tendencies, as well as his provocative and occasionally downright mean way of dealing with other people. What we’re trying to find out is whether there were any mitigating factors outside of his own personal demons that might have contributed to the outcome, and whether there might be some more positive traits that have gone overlooked by the some of the people around him.”

At this, Cuddy felt somewhat relieved. She’d gotten so defensive the day before, because she felt that all the panel wanted to do was nail her for her own faults. Some of which, she had to admit to herself after yesterday’s forced self-reflection, she deserved, and many of which were not only unpleasant, but occasionally even unethical or illegal in themselves. It was so easy to judge House’s shortcomings, because he hung them out in plain sight, but it was a lot harder to see her own, because she’d spent so many years refusing to acknowledge them. Despite the panel chairman’s reassurance, she had a sinking suspicion she was going to have to face the music on some of her past behavior.

“I’m not even sure where to start,” she admitted, thinking back on that meeting with HR and trying to reconstruct the conversation. “I believe that I can still supervise Dr. House effectively, but we both want to follow hospital policy to the letter,” she’d said, barely recognizing the irony in promising that House would follow hospital policy. The HR guy had expressed concern about conflict of interest, about favoritism toward House or bias against him in connection with her supervision of House. Of course, she ultimately had a terrible conflict of interest. She wasn’t sure if she’d shown favoritism, but her personal feelings had definitely gotten involved, and she was pretty sure she had shown bias against him at times because of issues they were having personally.

Where the hell was HR when all that was going on? Maybe she should have gone back to them when she started having trouble separating the personal from the professional, but it had always been so hard for her to admit her own failings. She didn’t remember ever even considering asking for help, other than the one time when they told her they couldn’t find anyone else to supervise him.

“Let me rephrase that. Tell us, in your own words, about how your private relationship with House affected how the two of you worked together, since you were still his supervisor.”

“I’m not sure I was aware of any difference at the beginning,” said Cuddy, although that small, unsettled part of her knew it wasn’t true. The problems started almost immediately.

“According to several witnesses, you pressured him to change the way he worked, using your personal relationship as collateral. Was that true?”

“I… I… Yes,” she stuttered. “I hate having to admit this, but I did change the way I dealt with him, and I’m pretty sure… no, I know… I added our personal issues into the equation.”

“Several of our other witnesses observed it and were concerned about the effect of your relationship on Dr. House’s professionalism.”

Cuddy was startled. A little embarrassed, she hadn’t realized how apparent it had been that she and House were having those kinds of difficulties. At the same time, the panel chairman had hit one of her buttons, and she responded emotionally, again feeling defensive.

“What professionalism?” she suddenly snapped. “He was the least professional person I ever knew.”

“That may be, depending on your definition of professional, but he was also one of the most effective at what he did. And his effectiveness decreased considerably while you two were together, according to the statistics we have in front of us.”

Was that true? thought Cuddy, flushing with embarrassment. Did our relationship actually, statistically, make him a worse doctor? All she remembered right at the moment was the lying about patient care incident, the not showing up for her award, and, of course that damned Vicodin when she needed him most.

“I’m not sure I ever saw those statistics,” she said, trying to justify herself.

“Nevertheless… please, if you can, tell us how your personal relationship affected your professional one.”

She suddenly remembered an early conversation. “Fairly early on, he deferred to me on something when he didn’t agree… something he never would have done previously. At times, I was deferring to him and at other times, he was deferring to me. We were both second-guessing each other. It was a mess. He admitted that this was screwing him up on the job, and I said it was screwing me up, too. That was when I tried to get HR to find someone else to supervise him, but they told me none of the department heads would take him on.”

“So, in a way, the two of you found yourselves trapped?”

“Yes. We could either try really hard to make it work, or we’d have to break up… or maybe one of us would have to leave our job. I was still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship, so I didn’t see it very clearly at the time, but it was a nightmare. We finally decided that if we were painfully, brutally honest with each other, maybe we could function.” And that certainly worked out well, didn’t it?

“The sense we had from other witnesses was that at least some of what happened was that more than once you, Dr. Cuddy, brought personal issues into the workplace, even on occasion trying to manipulate House into behaving differently, using your sex life as a threat. Would that be accurate?”

Was it true? Cuddy searched her memory and came up with one bad moment that had certainly been discussed at work, and perhaps other people had overheard it. It was when he wanted to keep using that hooker for his massages, and she’d put her foot down, telling him she wouldn’t see him until he stopped seeing the hooker.

I've tried 15 different massage therapists over the last few years, he’d told her. I don't know why, but she's the best I've found. She makes my leg feel better. But what was best for his leg got overruled by what became a make-or-break moment for her, and she had insisted he see someone else for his massages, even if that person didn’t help his pain as much. She didn’t think she’d been unreasonable in expecting him to stop getting his massages from someone he’d had sex with, but she had brought the issue into work, and she had blackmailed him with sex to get him to do what she wanted.

“I guess I’d have to say yes. It’s not a pleasant thing to admit, but yes. I did tell him on at least one occasion that there would be no sex if he didn’t do what I wanted. The incident I’m thinking of was personal, but it was discussed at work.”

The next case was Alice Tanner, when he’d tricked her into breaking into the patient’s home. Cuddy knew she was in enough hot water as it was, so she decided to pass on mentioning that…even though she’d again given him the silent treatment after their adventure at the patient’s house. From what the chairman said, they already knew how House operated, so nothing she said about it would either surprise them or add to their knowledge. She hoped.

She did remember a conversation with him around that time. “I'm not going to dump you because we like different food or books or music,” she’d said. “On the other hand, I might dump you if you don't talk to me when you have a problem with our relationship.” How had he taken that? As encouragement to openly discuss things with her? Or as a warning? Even thought her intentions were good, was he insecure enough in the relationship -- or certain enough that it was destined to fail, no matter what -- that he interpreted her comments as an implied threat? That she didn’t love him unconditionally? That if he didn’t do what she wanted, she would end it? Which, said that little voice, is exactly what she did.

What had she said next? “You make me better,” she’d told him. Was that actually… statistically… true? Given the insight she now had into how their relationship had affected them at work, perhaps she was being optimistic. “Hopefully, I make you better,” she’d added. Well, it was pretty clear in hindsight that she’d been wrong on that one.

“What happened next?”

“He solved his next case.”

“This would have been the writer, Alice Tanner?”

“Yes.” She remembered standing in the doorway to Alice Tanner’s room, hearing House convince the suicidal writer that she had been a good mother when he knew perfectly well she’d caused the death of her beloved son. Cuddy had the feeling he’d said it partly for her benefit, not just for the patient. For once, she’d caught him being nice. It was kind of a shock in a way, seeing him like that. But that hidden niceness was the part of him she loved. He’d lied to Alice Tanner, but somehow that lie didn’t bother her the way the other one did.

Damned go-carts, she thought. Why couldn’t he have taken her someplace she would have liked? Just because she liked go-carts at age 12 didn’t meant she was going to like them now… and she didn’t. As she remembered her annoyance with that whole evening, a new thought occurred to her. He had gone to the trouble of asking her mother -- her obnoxious mother -- what she liked, obviously because he hadn’t trusted himself to make the right choice. So whose fault was it the double date had been a disaster? House’s or her mother’s? He’d at least tried. Or maybe it was her own fault. She hadn’t given him anything to go on -- had told him that he knew what she liked… which he clearly didn’t… so he’d done his best to try to figure it out in the absence of data.

“How else did your personal life affect your professional interactions?”

Since it was already on her mind… the lie.

Cuddy huffed in frustration. “He lied to me. About what he had done to get the answer to a patient’s problem.”

“Had he lied to you previously about job-related things?”

“Yes, he had.” But she hadn’t taken it personally then.

“But because you were now a couple, his lie in this instance changed how you dealt with it?”

“Yes.”

“How did your changed reaction affect your working relationship?”

Huffing out a frustrated breath, Cuddy admitted, “I got angry about it, insisted that he apologize, but he refused. I think he said, ‘I can't apologize if I haven't done anything wrong.’ I pointed out that he had lied to my face, and he was adamant that he’d done it in order to save a patient's life. I remember the conversation pretty clearly, because I was so angry with him. He told me that this was business, but that he wouldn't lie to me about something personal.”

“What happened then?”

“I think it told him I couldn’t compartmentalize like that. That’s the moment I should have gone back to HR, because clearly I was messing things up. I stayed mad at him for quite a long time, and refused to have sex with him or even talk to him about it until apologized. Eventually, a long while later, he relented and apologized.”

“How long did this stalemate last?”

“It was at least two weeks.”

“During which time you, what, spoke with him only when necessary?”

“Yes.”

“So would you say that, at this point, not only was your professional objectivity as his supervisor compromised, but that it affected your ongoing interactions at work?”

“Yes.”

“Did Dr. House continue to take cases during the time when you weren’t speaking to him?”

“Yes.”

The panel chairman rifled through the mass of papers in front of him, finally pulling one out and perusing it a moment before speaking. “I see here that he treated a couple of people with suspected cases of smallpox and that the CDC was called in. The date suggests this was fairly early in your relationship. Would that have been during the time when you remained angry with him over the lie?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Tell us what happened in that circumstance?”

“House had a father and daughter who appeared to have smallpox. The CDC arrived, and House, in an insane move to prove he it wasn’t smallpox, walked into the isolation room without a hazmat suit on.”

“Insanely reckless or bravely sure of himself?”

“I have no idea,” said Cuddy honestly. “Sometimes I just couldn’t tell the difference.”

“Presumably, he turned out to be right.”

“Yes, of course he was… or maybe it was his team,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Either way, it got solved on his watch.” But before that happened, when the father died, she saw a House she’d never seen before -- one who was flat-out terrified, convinced he’d been wrong about the smallpox and positive that he was going to pay for that mistake with his life.

“Why do you think he felt the need to do something so drastic to prove himself right?”

“Again, I have no idea. The CDC had been pretty hardnosed about following the rules, ignoring House’s team’s efforts to find an alternate cause for the symptoms. House never respected authority, so it may just have gotten his back up.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t Dr. House a recognized authority on infectious diseases? Why wouldn’t the CDC have worked closely with him in the situation?”

A little surprised, Cuddy raised her eyebrows. “You know, I never really thought about that. Maybe we just happened to get one arrogant, dogmatic CDC rep.”

“How involved were you in what was going on?”

“I shut down the hospital, in case the infection had spread. But I didn’t get directly involved until after Dr. House entered the isolation ward.”

“May I ask why not?”

“I didn’t think there was anything constructive I could do.”

“But were you aware that the representative from the CDC was butting heads with Dr. House?”

“Yes, of course I was. Anytime House butted heads with someone, it seemed as if I heard about it within minutes.”

“Is it possible you could have intervened a little sooner? Perhaps tried to mediate things before they got out of hand? Again, Dr. House was an expert on infectious disease, so maybe someone needed to point that out to the man from the CDC.”

Oh, crap, thought Cuddy. She’d been so busy being mad at House about the lying, she hadn’t even thought about talking to the CDC guy about House’s credentials. And House would never bring it up; it just wasn’t his style to toot his own horn that way.

She felt those tears threatening again. “Yes. I probably should have. And yes, before you ask, it may have been because of our personal argument that I didn’t think of it.”

This is what happens when you have no respect for authority, no respect for anything, she’d said to him. What had he said back? Oh, yes. You don't think it's a little much to use the threat of death to win a totally separate argument with your boyfriend? Then she’d asked if he thought the two were related. Does seem to track suspiciously closely, he’d replied.

“I see from the file -- and since we never heard anything in the news about a smallpox outbreak -- that he solved the case.”

“Yes. It was rickettsialpox, also known as r-pox.”

“Curable?”

“Yes.”

“I see that the father died before the diagnosis was made.” House’s horrified… frightened… face swam before Cuddy’s eyes.

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“If you could go back, is there anything you might have done differently?”

Pushing aside the memories of how scared she was for House’s safety and how annoyed she was with him for putting himself in that position, she thought back through the sequence of events. Was there anything she could have done? “I suppose if I had intervened with the CDC when the conflict between their representative and House first started, he might have been able to make the diagnosis sooner and could have saved the father as well as the daughter… not to mention the fact that he might not have barged into the isolation room unprotected. But that’s just conjecture.”

Had she kept her distance more than usual because she was still so angry with him over the lie? Thinking it over, she was reasonably sure that she had. You have made me a worse doctor rang in her head. Here was another dead patient who might have been collateral damage in their relationship… because of her inability to clear her head enough to behave objectively… professionally… and his stubbornness about apologizing for something he didn’t believe he’d done wrong. Prior to their getting together, she’d always kind of admired his insistence on following his own ethical standards -- except, of course, during the whole Tritter thing. She’d admired that trait in him even when he created such problems with Vogler.

But somehow, in this situation, with the fact of their sexual relationship scrambling everything in her head, all she’d wanted was for him to apologize, for him to make the concession, for him to… surrender? She’d had to have her own way, hadn’t she? Unwilling to compromise or even talk to him about it, she’d gone against their previous professional history and tried to control behavior in him that she had once admired under other circumstances… and which she knew without a shadow of a doubt was not controllable.

Her mind drifted back to the r-pox patient. How many patients had he lost during the few months they were together? Had she, in reality, made him a worse doctor? He had free will, she thought, rebelliously. He could have stood up for his patients more. He could have confronted her as he always had previously.

But he admitted that their relationship was screwing him up, too. Could he have been leery of her, trying on his own to figure out how turn this awkward situation back into a loving one? While she was still angry about the lie, she hadn’t made it easy for him to talk to her at all, even about work issues. Unless… Was it possible that, even this early he’d come to the conclusion that loving her, trying to make the relationship work, overrode everything else, even his patients, even his natural tendencies and desires… even his own free will? I will always choose you. Her throat tightened as she tried to put the puzzle pieces together. She was shaken from her troubled reverie by the next question.

“Fair enough, Dr. Cuddy. During this time when you were angry with him over the lie, did anything else of a personal nature come up at work?”

Cuddy closed her eyes, remembering again their argument about the hooker slash masseuse. Not sure if anyone else might have testified before the panel about it, she decided to be forthcoming. Opening her eyes and sighing, she said, “Yes.”

“What would that have been?”

“For quite some time before we got together, House had been seeing someone for leg massages. She was a hooker, and apparently they’d had sex prior to our getting together. I insisted that he stop seeing her and go to a licensed massage therapist that I recommended instead.”

“You were uncomfortable with the fact that he’d had sex with this woman?”

“Yes, of course, I was.”

“After the two of you became a couple, do you know if he continued to have sex with her?”

“He said no.”

“But it still bothered you enough to put your foot down about it?”

“Yes, it really did. I told him I wouldn’t see him until he stopped seeing her.”

“How did he react to your ultimatum?”

“He wasn’t happy about it. He told me that he’d tried 15 different massage therapists over the years, but she was the best. In fact, he hired a male hooker and sent him to my office to give me a massage, just to point out that it didn’t bother him, so why should it bother me.”

“What ultimately happened?”

“He stopped seeing her.” She got her way.

“Even though he told you that she was the best person he’d found in 15 years? Would you say that, because of your uneasiness with her profession, perhaps you were thinking more of yourself than what might actually be best for him?”

Whoa! Suddenly, snatches of conversations with House whooshed through her head. She’d had to have her way on the lie, on the masseuse, on how she expected him to behave at work, on what she expected of him in her home… her home -- she hadn’t so much shared it with him as she’d allowed him to visit occasionally… basically, she’d had to have her way on an awful lot of what happened between them.

Another uncomfortable thought occurred to her, something she hadn’t paid attention to in the moment: House -- the incorrigible, selfish, authority-hating House -- had given in to her more often than not. He had really, really tried to give her what she wanted… and she had barely noticed. Just like she’d never thanked him for his thoughtful, romantic gifts. Whatever happened to positive reinforcement? In theory, she knew better. If she wanted to shift House’s behavior, she should have encouraged him. But in reality, she had just gotten annoyed with him, and used sex as a weapon, and given him the silent treatment until she got what she wanted.

“Did anything constructive come out the conversation?”

Shaken by her newfound insight, she stuttered, “W-we… ummm… did wind up having a long talk about commitment. I accused him of trying to sabotage the relationship because he was afraid of getting too serious. He… well, he accused me of pretty much the same thing. He pointed out -- and in retrospect, he was right -- that I had not let him sleep over and hadn’t even introduced him to my daughter… that I was keeping him out of her life. I felt I was protecting her, in case we broke up. But I think maybe I was hedging my bets, keeping him at arm’s length and not letting things get too serious for my own reasons.” Call it what it is. I'm not the only one who's holding back, he’d said.

Had she ever compromised with him, either professionally or personally, while they were together? At the moment, she couldn’t think of a single time. But now, she was able to see that he compromised throughout their relationship. House, who never compromised, had given in to her more often that not. And yet, she’d accused him of being a selfish bastard, of only thinking of himself, of never putting her before his own desires. Pot, meet kettle.

Suddenly, Cuddy -- the always confident, always sure of herself Cuddy -- didn’t feel very good about herself.

“Did anything else happen between the two of you before he apologized?”

“I lied to save my patient's life. I didn't lie to you. I lied to my boss. Either of those arguments working yet? I guess that means I don't have to go to the wedding on Saturday.”

“He… I… well, I insisted that he go with me to the wedding of hospital’s chairman of the board.”

“Even though you were still angry with him and not really speaking to him?”

“Yes. I had no intention of going alone. I felt it was important for him to make the effort to escort me to the wedding.” Again, she had insisted that House capitulate.

“How did he react to this… suggestion?”

Cuddy grimaced. “Well… ummm… not very well. He loathed weddings and what he called their ‘seven levels of hypocrisy.’ Plus, he pointed out that I was still angry with him about the lie, but he did agree to go. “So as long as you don't take it as an admission of guilt, sure, count me in.”

“What happened next?”

Cuddy closed her eyes and sighed. “I also told him he had to attend the rehearsal dinner.”

“And he agreed?”

“Yes, although he wound up having a patient who needed him, so he didn’t get to the rehearsal dinner after all. He did mess with me a bit first… he kept trying to get me to lie, I guess in the hope that if I lied about something I’d forgive his lie.”

“Not the most conventional approach to conflict resolution…”

“No, it wasn’t. And it didn’t work. I made it clear that only an apology would do… and eventually, he apologized.” Even though he had caught her in a lie, she still stuck by her guns. Where was the compromise in that?

“Once he apologized and the two of you were talking again, what happened between you after that?”

“Things were good,” said Cuddy.

“Were they good for both of you, or just for you?”

Cuddy searched her memory for clues… and came up empty. She shrugged her shoulders in response. “I’m not sure,” she admitted.

“What happened when your mother became ill?”

Cuddy decided to cut this short, if possible. “I turned the case over to Dr. House, who ultimately diagnosed her. There had been a problem with an artificial hip that had gone bad.”

“But before he diagnosed her, didn’t she fire him from her case?”

“Well, yes.”

“And what did you do then?”

“I knew he was the best, and I wanted the best for my mother, so I asked him to continue working on her case behind the scenes, despite her wishes.”

“Was he comfortable with that subterfuge?”

“Not particularly.” That was putting it mildly.

“So you leveraged your personal relationship with him to, in essence, make him work on your own mother’s case against his better judgment?”

“I guess you could put it that way.” “Actually, my mistakes started a little after that,” said House’s voice in her head, “when I agreed to your brilliant scheme to keep me on the case after she'd fired me off it.”

“Were you aware that this might be perceived as an abuse of your position at the hospital? An ethical breach… one that could have cost both you and Dr. House your licenses?”

Again, the questions were forcing her to look at her own behavior, and she wasn’t comfortable with it. “I felt it was more important to save my mother’s life than to worry about such things.”

“Just as you’d felt it was more important at the time of Dr. House’s leg injury to go behind his back to collude with Ms. Lockhart to perform the debridement procedure?”

Ick. They had her there. “I guess.”

“It sounds as if you have a history of ignoring patient wishes to suit your own purposes, Dr. Cuddy.”

She hated these people. She hated being forced to revisit every stupid mistake she’d ever made. Pursing her lips, she said, “If you say so. But House did it all the time, and I did it to save my mother’s life.”

“But the way you manipulated him into doing so left you open to the threat of a lawsuit from your mother some months later, didn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” argued Cuddy, contrary to what that little voice told her. House’s voice emerged from her subconscious. “You don't want me involved. You don't want you involved. All that ethics stuff that I don't give a crap about suddenly makes sense. If you're emotionally invested, you cannot make rational decisions. You know this would be a disaster.”

“What would you say about it?”

“My mother, in her own warped way, was just trying to bring House and me back together after we’d broken up.”

“But if you hadn’t opened that particular door for her, the hospital wouldn’t have been vulnerable to her lawsuit, would it?”

“Probably not. But my mother would have found some equally obnoxious way to go about what she wanted to do.”

“But perhaps not one that involved the hospital.”

“Who knows with her?”

“As we understand it, the lawsuit, if she had filed it, would have been a credible one. As I said before, this was a situation that could have cost both you and Dr. House your medical licenses.”

She slowly let out her breath. “Yes, I’m sorry to say. Yes, it could.” House had been furious with her for manipulating him into treating her mother behind her back. Just because he was willing to give her what she wanted in this instance -- and she had played the girlfriend card to get him to do it -- he could have lost his license. Now that she could see how often he’d been willing to give in to her wishes, she realized that the fault for any consequences might have been at least partly on her own head.

“What ultimately happened with your mother’s case?”

Cuddy thought back. The House voice in her head reminded her of how he had insisted she confront her mother… for her mother’s sake. “She leaves, she dies. One day… maybe a week from now, maybe a year from now, you're going to decide that the man sleeping next to you killed your mother. Get me my patient back.” “Dr. House convinced me to step back emotionally and do what was necessary to save my mother’s life.” It galled her to say the next sentence: “He was right.”

“Moving on. During the course of your relationship, other than the situation with the lie, did you ever attempt to change Dr. House’s work behavior by threatening to withhold sexual favors?”

“I… I might have.” Might have? Definitely did. How many times had she hinted there would be no sex if he didn’t do what she wanted at work? She had been unable to separate their personal issues from the professional, and to be honest, she wasn’t sure.

“So you brought the bedroom into the boardroom, in a sense?”

“It’s hard to separate the two sometimes.” Once again, she was beginning to have that cornered feeling that had plagued her yesterday.

“I assume you're avoiding me because of the charity gala,” she’d said.

“This Friday? he’d replied. “It's completely slipped my mind.”

“So you'll be there?”

“No, I meant it slipped my mind to tell you I'm not going.”

“What do you think it'll look like if you don't show up when I get an award?”

“Like I don't give a crap about awards, charities, what it looks like.”

She heard her own next sentence in her head. “If you ever want…” Although she hadn’t completed the threat, she knew it was obvious to both of them that what she meant was, “If you ever want to sleep with me again, you’ll do this for me.”

He hadn’t been surprised by her threat, but he did surprise her when he answered, “I RSVP’d two days ago. What, you think I'm a complete ass?”

“If you were already going, why did you…?”

“Foreplay.”

Just as she was about to smile at the memory of his punch line, she caught herself and refused to allow her face to reflect it. She was shaken out of her memories by the chairman’s next question.

“Tell us about your breakup with Dr. House.”

No, no, no. Cuddy was not going to go there. “That’s private,” she said, crossing her arms defensively.

“It’s not private when many of your own actions caused your personal relationship to intersect with your professional life. Please answer the question.”

Sighing, Cuddy took a moment to figure out how to explain this so she came out looking good. “I had a cancer scare, and wanted Dr. House to support me. He couldn’t do it without first taking a Vicodin to numb his feelings. That was the last straw for me.”

“So the two of you had been having problems for awhile?”

“No, not really.” Although, if she was honest with herself… and God, she really didn’t want to be… she had somehow thought her love could tame him -- she had asked too much of him, and when his best efforts just didn’t meet her standards, she had been secretly looking for a way out. Her mother’s voice popped into her head: “Then you're an idiot with impossible standards.”

“Didn’t you tell us earlier that you had assured him you didn’t want him to change?”

“Yes.” Damn them! Did they have to latch onto everything?

“Is it also true that you broke up with Dr. House -- a chronic pain sufferer who had developed pseudo-addiction issues as a results of his extreme pain -- because, after a commendable year and a half of sobriety, he took one Vicodin in a moment of emotional distress?”

Cuddy exhaled forcefully through her nose, before reluctantly answering, “Yes.”

“Let’s take a break and continue this at 11 o’clock.”

Feeling as if her emotions and her self-image had been run through a meat grinder, Cuddy stood up, smoothed out her pencil skirt, and left the room.

Day Ten, 11 a.m. - Dr. Lisa Cuddy (7/7)