A god awful tie (ch 15)
Title: A god awful tie... (ch 15/?)
Pairing: House/Cuddy, Foreman/Cameron
Author: Alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG-13-ish
Summary: House treats some odd diseases, but even he doesn't know the cure to the one affecting PPTH
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Notes: Reviews and flames alike are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast) sorry it's been so long....
TT
House groaned, reaching over Cuddy’s sleeping form to answer the phone-or at least pull it out of the wall so it would stop ringing. Somehow he didn’t reach quite high or far enough, and he ended up gripping Cuddy’s nightshirt. He frowned. It seemed...tight. He opened his eyes, then let got very quickly, as he realized he was holding a adult sized shoulder.
She stared at him, holding her wrist, which had evidently caused some pain as it grew back to normal size.
“What happened?”
‘Great, just what I needed. *Another* recurring nightmare.’
He pinched himself. It hurt. Oh.
“You turned into a five-year-old.”
Cuddy blinked.
“That’s what I thought. But it didn’t make much sense, so I was actually kind of hoping you had drugged me or something.”
House tilted his head.
“You hoped I had drugged you?”
“As an alternative to being in the process of going insane, yes, getting drugged by you would be the preferable choice.”
House smirked.
Cuddy shifted, grimacing as her wrist moved. It had apparently not healed as she grew, though she had popped the splint.
House sighed, maneuvering himself out from between Cuddy and the sleeping, basically naked oncologist, the ripped kid’s boxers still lying on his butt.
House managed to avoid stepping on Chase, who had been knocked on the floor without waking up.
“Ok, gross. You’re going to clean up your own diaper from now on.”
Cuddy, sitting on the bed with the sheets pulled up to her chest, laughed.
“Here.” said House, tossing her a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.
“Thanks.”
House turned around, limping back towards the bed, two more sets of clothes in his left hand, which he dumped on Chase and Wilson’s respective naked forms.
Wilson groaned and sat up, rubbing his neck.
House smirked, as Wilson slowly realized that he was sitting, naked, on his best friend’s bed, next to his boss.
“Ok... House... did what I think happen actually happen?” he asked, picking up the clothes and stepping over Chase’s still sleeping form on the way out into the hall.
“Yep. At least, as long as you think you turned into a four-year-old.”
“Oh. I’ll be right back.”
House picked up his cane, poking Chase’s back with the rubber tip.
Chase rolled over, snoring.
“Oh... god, I did not need to see that....” muttered House, flipping the clothes onto Chase’s nether regions with his cane.
“Didn’t have a problem with seeing Wilson....” said Cuddy, smiling.
House shrugged.
“After sharing an apartment with a guy on and off for the past twelve years, certain boundaries tend to lose their importance. Especially ones about sharing razors.”
Cuddy laughed.
“You actually own a razor?”
“Nope, hence the sharing.”
Cuddy laughed again, pulling the shirt gingerly over her injured arm.
Wilson reemerged, fully dressed, looking comically like his four-year-old self in House’s too-long jeans and loose-fitting shirt.
House was frowning down at Chase as he poked him repeatedly with the cane.
“Hey, Ro-Chase, wake up. Wombat, get your ass off my floor.”
Chase did nothing.
House lowered himself onto the floor, checking the unresponsive young doctor’s pulse.
“Fast pulse... low breathing rate... Chase!”
Cuddy and Wilson both blanched, as Chase started seizing.
“Dammit! Whatever he had when he was a kid didn’t get fixed this time around. Like your arm, it didn’t...” House cut himself off, clenching his teeth as he kept the now much bigger blond from hitting anything.
Wilson knelt, helping.
“Cuddy, call an ambulance. Hospital’s probably full of confused and naked doctors at this point, but better than nobody.”
Cuddy nodded, holding the phone in her lap as she dialed with her good hand.
An hour and a head x-ray later, Chase was being rushed to surgery.
As Cuddy came up the stairs, from getting her wrist re-splinted, she stopped, slopping her coffee onto the steps but not noticing, at the sight of House sitting in the observation room, tapping his cane nervously on the floor, eyes fixed on the surgery bellow.
Then she shook her head to herself, and continued up the steps.
“He should be fine, you know? High intercrainial pressure from bone abnormalities shouldn’t cause permanent damage, especially since it was only high for a little while before we got him here.”
“Yeah, I know. This is stupid.”
Cuddy sighed, sitting down next to him.
“House, you’re worried. And it’s really hitting you hard because of the last three months.”
House sighed, his cane smacking onto the plastic tiles hard, bouncing once, and coming to a stop.
“This sucks. Giving a damn sucks.”
Cuddy nodded.
House glanced at her briefly, and was surprised to find his cheeks growing hot.
“You know... I didn’t... nevermind.” he cut himself off, looking back down at the surgeons.
“You did mean what you said while you were detoxing? I know. You talk in your sleep when you have nightmares.”
House looked at her, silently, for a long moment.
Cuddy had thought, at first, that he was upset at what she might have heard. But he wasn’t. He looked... thoughtful.
“I get why you want-” he stopped, as Wilson came in, still wearing House’s shirt, though he had changed into his own pants.
“How’s it going?” he asked innocently.
House glared at him.
Wilson blinked.
Cuddy stifled a laugh.
House sighed.
“Doesn’t seem to have done any damage.”
“That’s good.” said Wilson, sitting down on the bench next to them.
House glanced at him, down at the surgeons, and back at him.
“What was wrong with you? Even your mother wouldn’t tell me.”
Wilson glanced at House, then looked away, staring with great interest at the surgery below.
“Wilson, spill.”
“It’s nothing that’s gonna be a problem.”
“What is it, though?”
Wilson sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I was a little autistic.”
House stared at him for a long, long moment.
Then he burst out laughing, head in his hands, face red.
Cuddy looked at House reproachfully.
“It’s not funny....” she said, frowning.
“Not... in and... of... itself....” choked House between guffaws, “but after... the carpet... thing... it was kind of... a running joke....” he stopped for a minute, taking several large gulps of air, “The irony is killing me....”
Wilson was blushing slightly, still rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah, well, you getting stuck being my daddy is pretty ironic as well.”
House sobered a little, though he kept grinning without provocation every few seconds.
Cuddy watched House, a little curious as to what he had been about to say.
They all turned, as Blythe came up the stairs.
“Gregory Christopher Zacharias House.”
Wilson and Cuddy both looked at House oddly.
“That’s a lot of names.” whispered Wilson, smirking.
“Shut up.” muttered House back.
“If you are going to hide up here instead of being with your family, at least have the decency to tell me.”
House blinked.
“Uh... what? I didn’t-”
“It’s ok, Mrs. House.” said Cuddy quickly, “everyone suddenly grew up again, and that caused Ro-Chase to get sick, and... it’s just been really chaotic.”
Blythe blinked at her.
“Oh. Oh, Lisa, dear. I’m sorry. Greg, I’m sorry. I thought you were avoiding me and your father.”
“That’s ok. Wilson can stay here, right?” said Cuddy.
Wilson nodded.
“And Greg’ll come with you, right?” she continued.
House looked at her, silently begging her to give him an excuse to not see his dad.
She told him no, just as silently.
“...fine.” said House grudgingly.
Blythe nodded, and House followed her down, slowly and awkwardly.
Cuddy followed him, but as she reached the fourth step, her foot hit he coffee she had spilled earlier, and she slipped, yelling for House to watch out.
Instead of getting out of the way, he turned, gripped the railing hard with his right hand, and tried to catch her. If she hadn’t been falling, she would have called him a moron.
They landed with a thump, and Wilson and Blythe rushed towards them, worried.
Cuddy groaned.
House grunted.
They opened their eyes. Cuddy was lying on top of him. House was pinned under her.
They were both very red.
Wilson and Blythe stopped, relieved, as House and Cuddy untangled themselves and sat up.
“Are you two ok?” asked Wilson, blinking as Blythe motioned for him to come with her.
Cuddy and House didn’t seem to have heard.
Wilson walked down the remaining steps, past the two apparently stunned doctors, and out into the hall.
“What?” he asked Blythe.
She very well near giggled.
“Did you see how red they were? My god, did they never get together? They’ve known each other for twenty years, I thought something bad must have happened, never brought it up....”
Wilson stared at her.
Then he laughed.
“Lisa’s too stubborn, Greg’s too clueless. As far as I can tell, they’ve been sort of rivals since medical school, they had one... something, I don’t know what, graduation night, and have been both fascinated and freaked since. Cuddy can’t bring herself to admit she might really like him, Greg hasn’t got a clue about anything. I’m pretty sure he thinks he can’t stand her.”
Blythe really did giggle that time. It made Wilson look at her sort of strangely.
Then she stopped. Graduation night. Gregory had been telling her... he had brought the girl with him....
“He trusts her.” she said, almost in wonder.
Wilson blinked, then shook his head.
“He doesn’t trust anybody.”
“He trusts her.” said Blythe again, looking at him, “I’d bet anything that he trusts her.”
House sat there, bad leg throbbing, face burning, looking-not-looking at Cuddy. He was looking at her face, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.
Cuddy sat there, wrist throbbing, face burning, looking-not-looking at House. She was looking at his face, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.
They both swallowed.
Then they both looked.
Blue met Green, Green met Blue.
“Thank... thank you.”
“You’re... you’re welcome.”
“Um....”
“Uh....”
Then something clicked.
“Oh, for god sakes.” said Cuddy, staring at him, “did you really expect me to figure that out from how you act?”
House turned redder than he had been yet. A tomato wouldn’t have held a candle to him.
Cuddy, for all that she was browner, was blushing just as hard.
A strangled squeak sounded from around the corner.
Cuddy and House both looked in the direction it had come from.
Then they both got to their feet, looking where the sound had come from.
Only to find Wilson pinned against the wall, Blythe’s hand covering his mouth as she glared at him for having made a sound.
“Ok... Mom, can you not strangle Wilson, please?”
Blythe let go, startled.
House and Cuddy weren’t looking at each other.
She groaned internally. Nothing had happened, they hadn’t been ready, it had been too weird, and now they would be too awkward and....
She sighed, starting off towards her husband’s room.
Pairing: House/Cuddy, Foreman/Cameron
Author: Alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG-13-ish
Summary: House treats some odd diseases, but even he doesn't know the cure to the one affecting PPTH
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Notes: Reviews and flames alike are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast) sorry it's been so long....
TT
House groaned, reaching over Cuddy’s sleeping form to answer the phone-or at least pull it out of the wall so it would stop ringing. Somehow he didn’t reach quite high or far enough, and he ended up gripping Cuddy’s nightshirt. He frowned. It seemed...tight. He opened his eyes, then let got very quickly, as he realized he was holding a adult sized shoulder.
She stared at him, holding her wrist, which had evidently caused some pain as it grew back to normal size.
“What happened?”
‘Great, just what I needed. *Another* recurring nightmare.’
He pinched himself. It hurt. Oh.
“You turned into a five-year-old.”
Cuddy blinked.
“That’s what I thought. But it didn’t make much sense, so I was actually kind of hoping you had drugged me or something.”
House tilted his head.
“You hoped I had drugged you?”
“As an alternative to being in the process of going insane, yes, getting drugged by you would be the preferable choice.”
House smirked.
Cuddy shifted, grimacing as her wrist moved. It had apparently not healed as she grew, though she had popped the splint.
House sighed, maneuvering himself out from between Cuddy and the sleeping, basically naked oncologist, the ripped kid’s boxers still lying on his butt.
House managed to avoid stepping on Chase, who had been knocked on the floor without waking up.
“Ok, gross. You’re going to clean up your own diaper from now on.”
Cuddy, sitting on the bed with the sheets pulled up to her chest, laughed.
“Here.” said House, tossing her a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.
“Thanks.”
House turned around, limping back towards the bed, two more sets of clothes in his left hand, which he dumped on Chase and Wilson’s respective naked forms.
Wilson groaned and sat up, rubbing his neck.
House smirked, as Wilson slowly realized that he was sitting, naked, on his best friend’s bed, next to his boss.
“Ok... House... did what I think happen actually happen?” he asked, picking up the clothes and stepping over Chase’s still sleeping form on the way out into the hall.
“Yep. At least, as long as you think you turned into a four-year-old.”
“Oh. I’ll be right back.”
House picked up his cane, poking Chase’s back with the rubber tip.
Chase rolled over, snoring.
“Oh... god, I did not need to see that....” muttered House, flipping the clothes onto Chase’s nether regions with his cane.
“Didn’t have a problem with seeing Wilson....” said Cuddy, smiling.
House shrugged.
“After sharing an apartment with a guy on and off for the past twelve years, certain boundaries tend to lose their importance. Especially ones about sharing razors.”
Cuddy laughed.
“You actually own a razor?”
“Nope, hence the sharing.”
Cuddy laughed again, pulling the shirt gingerly over her injured arm.
Wilson reemerged, fully dressed, looking comically like his four-year-old self in House’s too-long jeans and loose-fitting shirt.
House was frowning down at Chase as he poked him repeatedly with the cane.
“Hey, Ro-Chase, wake up. Wombat, get your ass off my floor.”
Chase did nothing.
House lowered himself onto the floor, checking the unresponsive young doctor’s pulse.
“Fast pulse... low breathing rate... Chase!”
Cuddy and Wilson both blanched, as Chase started seizing.
“Dammit! Whatever he had when he was a kid didn’t get fixed this time around. Like your arm, it didn’t...” House cut himself off, clenching his teeth as he kept the now much bigger blond from hitting anything.
Wilson knelt, helping.
“Cuddy, call an ambulance. Hospital’s probably full of confused and naked doctors at this point, but better than nobody.”
Cuddy nodded, holding the phone in her lap as she dialed with her good hand.
An hour and a head x-ray later, Chase was being rushed to surgery.
As Cuddy came up the stairs, from getting her wrist re-splinted, she stopped, slopping her coffee onto the steps but not noticing, at the sight of House sitting in the observation room, tapping his cane nervously on the floor, eyes fixed on the surgery bellow.
Then she shook her head to herself, and continued up the steps.
“He should be fine, you know? High intercrainial pressure from bone abnormalities shouldn’t cause permanent damage, especially since it was only high for a little while before we got him here.”
“Yeah, I know. This is stupid.”
Cuddy sighed, sitting down next to him.
“House, you’re worried. And it’s really hitting you hard because of the last three months.”
House sighed, his cane smacking onto the plastic tiles hard, bouncing once, and coming to a stop.
“This sucks. Giving a damn sucks.”
Cuddy nodded.
House glanced at her briefly, and was surprised to find his cheeks growing hot.
“You know... I didn’t... nevermind.” he cut himself off, looking back down at the surgeons.
“You did mean what you said while you were detoxing? I know. You talk in your sleep when you have nightmares.”
House looked at her, silently, for a long moment.
Cuddy had thought, at first, that he was upset at what she might have heard. But he wasn’t. He looked... thoughtful.
“I get why you want-” he stopped, as Wilson came in, still wearing House’s shirt, though he had changed into his own pants.
“How’s it going?” he asked innocently.
House glared at him.
Wilson blinked.
Cuddy stifled a laugh.
House sighed.
“Doesn’t seem to have done any damage.”
“That’s good.” said Wilson, sitting down on the bench next to them.
House glanced at him, down at the surgeons, and back at him.
“What was wrong with you? Even your mother wouldn’t tell me.”
Wilson glanced at House, then looked away, staring with great interest at the surgery below.
“Wilson, spill.”
“It’s nothing that’s gonna be a problem.”
“What is it, though?”
Wilson sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I was a little autistic.”
House stared at him for a long, long moment.
Then he burst out laughing, head in his hands, face red.
Cuddy looked at House reproachfully.
“It’s not funny....” she said, frowning.
“Not... in and... of... itself....” choked House between guffaws, “but after... the carpet... thing... it was kind of... a running joke....” he stopped for a minute, taking several large gulps of air, “The irony is killing me....”
Wilson was blushing slightly, still rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah, well, you getting stuck being my daddy is pretty ironic as well.”
House sobered a little, though he kept grinning without provocation every few seconds.
Cuddy watched House, a little curious as to what he had been about to say.
They all turned, as Blythe came up the stairs.
“Gregory Christopher Zacharias House.”
Wilson and Cuddy both looked at House oddly.
“That’s a lot of names.” whispered Wilson, smirking.
“Shut up.” muttered House back.
“If you are going to hide up here instead of being with your family, at least have the decency to tell me.”
House blinked.
“Uh... what? I didn’t-”
“It’s ok, Mrs. House.” said Cuddy quickly, “everyone suddenly grew up again, and that caused Ro-Chase to get sick, and... it’s just been really chaotic.”
Blythe blinked at her.
“Oh. Oh, Lisa, dear. I’m sorry. Greg, I’m sorry. I thought you were avoiding me and your father.”
“That’s ok. Wilson can stay here, right?” said Cuddy.
Wilson nodded.
“And Greg’ll come with you, right?” she continued.
House looked at her, silently begging her to give him an excuse to not see his dad.
She told him no, just as silently.
“...fine.” said House grudgingly.
Blythe nodded, and House followed her down, slowly and awkwardly.
Cuddy followed him, but as she reached the fourth step, her foot hit he coffee she had spilled earlier, and she slipped, yelling for House to watch out.
Instead of getting out of the way, he turned, gripped the railing hard with his right hand, and tried to catch her. If she hadn’t been falling, she would have called him a moron.
They landed with a thump, and Wilson and Blythe rushed towards them, worried.
Cuddy groaned.
House grunted.
They opened their eyes. Cuddy was lying on top of him. House was pinned under her.
They were both very red.
Wilson and Blythe stopped, relieved, as House and Cuddy untangled themselves and sat up.
“Are you two ok?” asked Wilson, blinking as Blythe motioned for him to come with her.
Cuddy and House didn’t seem to have heard.
Wilson walked down the remaining steps, past the two apparently stunned doctors, and out into the hall.
“What?” he asked Blythe.
She very well near giggled.
“Did you see how red they were? My god, did they never get together? They’ve known each other for twenty years, I thought something bad must have happened, never brought it up....”
Wilson stared at her.
Then he laughed.
“Lisa’s too stubborn, Greg’s too clueless. As far as I can tell, they’ve been sort of rivals since medical school, they had one... something, I don’t know what, graduation night, and have been both fascinated and freaked since. Cuddy can’t bring herself to admit she might really like him, Greg hasn’t got a clue about anything. I’m pretty sure he thinks he can’t stand her.”
Blythe really did giggle that time. It made Wilson look at her sort of strangely.
Then she stopped. Graduation night. Gregory had been telling her... he had brought the girl with him....
“He trusts her.” she said, almost in wonder.
Wilson blinked, then shook his head.
“He doesn’t trust anybody.”
“He trusts her.” said Blythe again, looking at him, “I’d bet anything that he trusts her.”
House sat there, bad leg throbbing, face burning, looking-not-looking at Cuddy. He was looking at her face, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.
Cuddy sat there, wrist throbbing, face burning, looking-not-looking at House. She was looking at his face, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.
They both swallowed.
Then they both looked.
Blue met Green, Green met Blue.
“Thank... thank you.”
“You’re... you’re welcome.”
“Um....”
“Uh....”
Then something clicked.
“Oh, for god sakes.” said Cuddy, staring at him, “did you really expect me to figure that out from how you act?”
House turned redder than he had been yet. A tomato wouldn’t have held a candle to him.
Cuddy, for all that she was browner, was blushing just as hard.
A strangled squeak sounded from around the corner.
Cuddy and House both looked in the direction it had come from.
Then they both got to their feet, looking where the sound had come from.
Only to find Wilson pinned against the wall, Blythe’s hand covering his mouth as she glared at him for having made a sound.
“Ok... Mom, can you not strangle Wilson, please?”
Blythe let go, startled.
House and Cuddy weren’t looking at each other.
She groaned internally. Nothing had happened, they hadn’t been ready, it had been too weird, and now they would be too awkward and....
She sighed, starting off towards her husband’s room.