Commentary: Ouroboros (House/Cuddy, House/Stacy, R)
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Title: Ouroboros
I hate picking titles. I like this one, though, because I decided on it before I wrote the fic, and the title dictated the style.
Summary: Bad habits are hard to break.
Fandom: House
Word Count: 807
Rating/Warnings: R
Pairing: House/Cuddy, House/Stacy
A/N: For house_fest.
The full prompt was “I’m not very faithful to the women I date.” - House cheats on Stacy… with Lisa Cuddy.
A note on timelines: This story takes place after House and Stacy moved in together, before the infarction, after Wilson cheated on Bonnie but before their divorce. Not that you couldn't have told from the story, but anyway.
Oy, House timelines. I've never been in a fandom that was more OCD about them, and I royally screwed them up in this fic. In addition to the above, the story also sort of implies that Cuddy was the Dean of Medicine before House's leg, which is almost certainly not true. But screw it.
There comes a point in all of Greg's relationships.
Nomenclature is always such a problem with House. In this fic, though, he had to be Greg, because the whole thing is supposed to be happening in his head, and I really think that's who he thinks of himself as being.
He's well acquainted with this point, sees it coming from a mile away, knows all its favorite TV shows and which side of the bed it likes.
I really like this line.
The reasoning goes like this: love is like a rollercoaster (not in the Ohio Players sense, just stay with him here).
I like the odd construction of the parenthetical comment, because this is supposed to be House explaining this reasoning to himself, which I completely think he does… not just because I do.
There's the hill, which is hard and boring and only entertaining because of the clacking noise that the train makes; and then there's the ride proper, which is fun, even if it occasionally seems like the whole thing is going to go flying off the tracks.
And in the middle, for that instant, that fraction of a second, there's doubt. It's too late to stop, but it's too early to throw your hands up, and for the briefest moment there's a point where there's no telling what's about to happen.
And when that point arrives, Greg sleeps with Cuddy.
I also think that, despite how familiar they are, Greg will always think of her as Cuddy. There's a separation there- it's a way of holding them apart. She's never not his boss, just like she's never not the girl he knew in college.
Once was fine, twice was kind of sad, but three is just unsettling. It would be so much better if it was just some bar slut in a tube top whose name he didn't know, but it never is. It's always Cuddy, a colleague, a friend, someone he actually respects, someone he'll have to make awkward conversation with in the morning.
He's not freaking out, because that's not really something he's prone to doing; but he is as close as he ever gets, pacing back and forth, smoking a stale cigarette Stacy (his girlfriend, Cuddy's friend, all around good person, crosswalk escort of old ladies and cripples) left in a kitchen drawer.
I really House portrayed as a casual smoker, quite possibly because I am one. The image packs a lot of punch for me- that nervous smoking-and-pacing is just like so many people I know, including me.
And I will admit that I threw in the bit about cripples for the cringe factor.
After about ten minutes of this show, he goes back to bed. If he's already fucked, why not get his money's worth?
As it happens, there's no morning conversation, because she's gone long before he wakes up.
I don't see Cuddy as the type to run off in the night, really, but I had to get rid of her. I wanted to save the confrontation (or lack thereof) for a moment where it would have more punch. Originally, though, when I picked up the prompt, I intended to write a fic that was just that confrontation, ending with the image of House walking blindly into the morning sun. I think I like this better, though.
The only positive in the whole situation is that he doesn't have to go to work, so he calls a guy who knows a guy and gets blazed out of his brain with Wilson. It seems like the only thing to do- it's reliable, like a manlier replacement for Ben and Jerry's.
I find it amusing to get Jimmy high, because, despite everything, he's such a very good boy.
"You're not allowed to talk about Bonnie and Susan anymore, I hope you know that," Wilson tells him, exhaling. "You're one up on me now."
I think I may have stolen Susan as Wilson's first wife's name from someone else, but it's now firmly entrenched in my personal headcanon.
"Technically, we're even," Greg reminds him, pausing to take a hit. "I wasn't actually dating Sam at the time."
Greg doesn't actually think this. He's just setting Wilson up for the story.
Wilson rolls his eyes. "Telling somebody, 'Maybe this is moving too fast,' is not the same thing as breaking up with them, especially because she thought you were talking about the car."
I like the idea of House dating someone who's not like Cuddy or Stacy or Wilson or Cameron et al, and I so rarely see it in fic. It's sometimes fun to read/write a relationship where the characters aren't MFEO.
"She never was very bright."
"House, why don't you just give it up and date her?"
"Sam? She already broke up with me once."
"House."
I was really enamoured of this construction at the time, and I don't really know why.
Greg lays back and blows smoke rings, in lieu of an answer. Truth be told, there isn't a good answer, and all signs pointed to there never being one. In a situation like that, what kind of response is, "I don't wanna"?
This fic marks the beginning of a change in my writing, fic and otherwise, where I started consciously accepting the fact that writing was a kind of therapy for me. It's heavily based on a situation in my own life, one in which I was in Cuddy's position. I was very consciously trying to see things from "Greg"'s point of view, to help understand what his motivations and hang ups were. Ultimately, though, I couldn't, and when I got to this part of the fic, I couldn't articulate what I thought without a massive slowdown in a fast-paced fic.
I didn't like this sentence when I wrote it, and I don't like it now, but I couldn't and can't find another way to put it.
He goes home alone that night, to sheets that smell like Cuddy and Stacy and pot, and tosses and turns until morning.
He's professional at the hospital the next morning, or as professional as he ever gets, masochistically doing his clinic hours without complaint (because self-flagellation is not allowed in the corridors).
The parenthetical comment was the very last thing I wrote. I'm glad I did, because it adds a little comic twist that makes this section flow with everything else.
"Doctor House," a familiar voice says from behind him, and, as if to complete the scene, Cuddy picks that moment to walk out of her office.
Never fight a two front war.
He turns to see Stacy standing there, looking at him like a not a thing in her world is wrong. "I got an early flight," she says, with a sly smile, "so I'm busting you out of here."
He gives her the biggest smile he can muster, which must not be too impressive, since she takes it as her cue to tell him how tired he looks and how much he needs a break. He just nods, and she puts her cool hands on the sides of his head, kissing him sweetly. For just an instant, he thinks she's figured him out, but she takes him by the hand and walks him toward the door.
Even though Greg doesn't think so, I think Stacy does know. Stacy's an extremely pragmatic woman, and I don't think she'd be the type to get all bent out of shape and start screeching because she thinks some unnameable something is up with him. Maybe Cuddy got drunk one night and told her all about the other times?
He turns back as they leave, as if he can do anything to help the situation. Cuddy gives him a tight, almost sad smile, and shakes her head. She doesn't even have the decency to look pissed- she just looks disappointed, and he knows then that he's fucked. It's not that Stacy's going to know, or that Cuddy's going to tell her, because neither of those things is going to happen. It's because there is no justice in the universe, and he, who should be flogged in public, is going to get off scot free, again.
Greg wants to get caught. He's selfish, he's an attention seeker, and, most importantly, he doesn't really want to be happy. He wants Stacy to scream and cry and walk out on him. Maybe that's why he and Jimmy get along so well.
The consequence of adding the bit about self-flagellation earlier is that I think it takes away from this paragraph.
Because that's what his life's been reduced to- just a big fucking circle, with no change in sight.
This is one of my favorite ending lines that I've ever written. The title itself and this line are the only times that the ouroboros is directly addressed, and I really like that. I also like reserving profanity in my writing, because then when you use it, it has great force behind it.
This is not true of me in real life.
And that may have been more commentary than fic, but I hope you enjoyed it!
Title: Ouroboros
I hate picking titles. I like this one, though, because I decided on it before I wrote the fic, and the title dictated the style.
Summary: Bad habits are hard to break.
Fandom: House
Word Count: 807
Rating/Warnings: R
Pairing: House/Cuddy, House/Stacy
A/N: For house_fest.
The full prompt was “I’m not very faithful to the women I date.” - House cheats on Stacy… with Lisa Cuddy.
A note on timelines: This story takes place after House and Stacy moved in together, before the infarction, after Wilson cheated on Bonnie but before their divorce. Not that you couldn't have told from the story, but anyway.
Oy, House timelines. I've never been in a fandom that was more OCD about them, and I royally screwed them up in this fic. In addition to the above, the story also sort of implies that Cuddy was the Dean of Medicine before House's leg, which is almost certainly not true. But screw it.
There comes a point in all of Greg's relationships.
Nomenclature is always such a problem with House. In this fic, though, he had to be Greg, because the whole thing is supposed to be happening in his head, and I really think that's who he thinks of himself as being.
He's well acquainted with this point, sees it coming from a mile away, knows all its favorite TV shows and which side of the bed it likes.
I really like this line.
The reasoning goes like this: love is like a rollercoaster (not in the Ohio Players sense, just stay with him here).
I like the odd construction of the parenthetical comment, because this is supposed to be House explaining this reasoning to himself, which I completely think he does… not just because I do.
There's the hill, which is hard and boring and only entertaining because of the clacking noise that the train makes; and then there's the ride proper, which is fun, even if it occasionally seems like the whole thing is going to go flying off the tracks.
And in the middle, for that instant, that fraction of a second, there's doubt. It's too late to stop, but it's too early to throw your hands up, and for the briefest moment there's a point where there's no telling what's about to happen.
And when that point arrives, Greg sleeps with Cuddy.
I also think that, despite how familiar they are, Greg will always think of her as Cuddy. There's a separation there- it's a way of holding them apart. She's never not his boss, just like she's never not the girl he knew in college.
Once was fine, twice was kind of sad, but three is just unsettling. It would be so much better if it was just some bar slut in a tube top whose name he didn't know, but it never is. It's always Cuddy, a colleague, a friend, someone he actually respects, someone he'll have to make awkward conversation with in the morning.
He's not freaking out, because that's not really something he's prone to doing; but he is as close as he ever gets, pacing back and forth, smoking a stale cigarette Stacy (his girlfriend, Cuddy's friend, all around good person, crosswalk escort of old ladies and cripples) left in a kitchen drawer.
I really House portrayed as a casual smoker, quite possibly because I am one. The image packs a lot of punch for me- that nervous smoking-and-pacing is just like so many people I know, including me.
And I will admit that I threw in the bit about cripples for the cringe factor.
After about ten minutes of this show, he goes back to bed. If he's already fucked, why not get his money's worth?
As it happens, there's no morning conversation, because she's gone long before he wakes up.
I don't see Cuddy as the type to run off in the night, really, but I had to get rid of her. I wanted to save the confrontation (or lack thereof) for a moment where it would have more punch. Originally, though, when I picked up the prompt, I intended to write a fic that was just that confrontation, ending with the image of House walking blindly into the morning sun. I think I like this better, though.
The only positive in the whole situation is that he doesn't have to go to work, so he calls a guy who knows a guy and gets blazed out of his brain with Wilson. It seems like the only thing to do- it's reliable, like a manlier replacement for Ben and Jerry's.
I find it amusing to get Jimmy high, because, despite everything, he's such a very good boy.
"You're not allowed to talk about Bonnie and Susan anymore, I hope you know that," Wilson tells him, exhaling. "You're one up on me now."
I think I may have stolen Susan as Wilson's first wife's name from someone else, but it's now firmly entrenched in my personal headcanon.
"Technically, we're even," Greg reminds him, pausing to take a hit. "I wasn't actually dating Sam at the time."
Greg doesn't actually think this. He's just setting Wilson up for the story.
Wilson rolls his eyes. "Telling somebody, 'Maybe this is moving too fast,' is not the same thing as breaking up with them, especially because she thought you were talking about the car."
I like the idea of House dating someone who's not like Cuddy or Stacy or Wilson or Cameron et al, and I so rarely see it in fic. It's sometimes fun to read/write a relationship where the characters aren't MFEO.
"She never was very bright."
"House, why don't you just give it up and date her?"
"Sam? She already broke up with me once."
"House."
I was really enamoured of this construction at the time, and I don't really know why.
Greg lays back and blows smoke rings, in lieu of an answer. Truth be told, there isn't a good answer, and all signs pointed to there never being one. In a situation like that, what kind of response is, "I don't wanna"?
This fic marks the beginning of a change in my writing, fic and otherwise, where I started consciously accepting the fact that writing was a kind of therapy for me. It's heavily based on a situation in my own life, one in which I was in Cuddy's position. I was very consciously trying to see things from "Greg"'s point of view, to help understand what his motivations and hang ups were. Ultimately, though, I couldn't, and when I got to this part of the fic, I couldn't articulate what I thought without a massive slowdown in a fast-paced fic.
I didn't like this sentence when I wrote it, and I don't like it now, but I couldn't and can't find another way to put it.
He goes home alone that night, to sheets that smell like Cuddy and Stacy and pot, and tosses and turns until morning.
He's professional at the hospital the next morning, or as professional as he ever gets, masochistically doing his clinic hours without complaint (because self-flagellation is not allowed in the corridors).
The parenthetical comment was the very last thing I wrote. I'm glad I did, because it adds a little comic twist that makes this section flow with everything else.
"Doctor House," a familiar voice says from behind him, and, as if to complete the scene, Cuddy picks that moment to walk out of her office.
Never fight a two front war.
He turns to see Stacy standing there, looking at him like a not a thing in her world is wrong. "I got an early flight," she says, with a sly smile, "so I'm busting you out of here."
He gives her the biggest smile he can muster, which must not be too impressive, since she takes it as her cue to tell him how tired he looks and how much he needs a break. He just nods, and she puts her cool hands on the sides of his head, kissing him sweetly. For just an instant, he thinks she's figured him out, but she takes him by the hand and walks him toward the door.
Even though Greg doesn't think so, I think Stacy does know. Stacy's an extremely pragmatic woman, and I don't think she'd be the type to get all bent out of shape and start screeching because she thinks some unnameable something is up with him. Maybe Cuddy got drunk one night and told her all about the other times?
He turns back as they leave, as if he can do anything to help the situation. Cuddy gives him a tight, almost sad smile, and shakes her head. She doesn't even have the decency to look pissed- she just looks disappointed, and he knows then that he's fucked. It's not that Stacy's going to know, or that Cuddy's going to tell her, because neither of those things is going to happen. It's because there is no justice in the universe, and he, who should be flogged in public, is going to get off scot free, again.
Greg wants to get caught. He's selfish, he's an attention seeker, and, most importantly, he doesn't really want to be happy. He wants Stacy to scream and cry and walk out on him. Maybe that's why he and Jimmy get along so well.
The consequence of adding the bit about self-flagellation earlier is that I think it takes away from this paragraph.
Because that's what his life's been reduced to- just a big fucking circle, with no change in sight.
This is one of my favorite ending lines that I've ever written. The title itself and this line are the only times that the ouroboros is directly addressed, and I really like that. I also like reserving profanity in my writing, because then when you use it, it has great force behind it.
This is not true of me in real life.
And that may have been more commentary than fic, but I hope you enjoyed it!