fic: Smoke On the Water (The Bad Judgements Remix)
Smoke On the Water (The Bad Judgements Remix)
House; Cuddy/Stacy; pg; 250 words
She's caught between the two of them, in more ways than one.
Remix of smoke by phinnia. Also written for sanguine_cafune for halfamoon. Thanks to lauriestein for looking it over.
~*~
The smoke clings to Cuddy's hair, her clothes. It stays lodged in her throat and makes her eyes water. Coffee won't take away the smooth-slick-bitter taste of Stacy's cigarettes; she brushes her teeth in the bathroom after Stacy leaves, the cool mint burning her chapped lips. She sucks in a breath, splashes ice-cold water on her face, pats her cheeks dry with paper towels while she tries not to smudge her mascara. Her lipstick's already smeared beyond repair.
It's not like she doesn't know she shouldn't be doing this. House is her friend, though he'd probably disagree, or at least refuse to admit it, and he's lying broken in a hospital bed. Cuddy stood by while Stacy did what she thought was right, and now she's caught between the two of them, in more ways than one. She's Stacy's boss, and she's always hated the idea of a relationship with an employee, but when Stacy came to her, crying and worried; desperate for a pair of open ears and for comfort, Cuddy got carried away. The infarction hasn't been easy for anyone; the only person House will talk to is Wilson (the "innocent" in all of this) and Cuddy knows it's eating at Stacy.
Later, she stops by House's room, checking in on him, even though she knows he hates that, hates having people treat him like he's an invalid. He doesn't say anything, just looks her over, and she thinks-just for a second-he knows.
House; Cuddy/Stacy; pg; 250 words
She's caught between the two of them, in more ways than one.
Remix of smoke by phinnia. Also written for sanguine_cafune for halfamoon. Thanks to lauriestein for looking it over.
~*~
The smoke clings to Cuddy's hair, her clothes. It stays lodged in her throat and makes her eyes water. Coffee won't take away the smooth-slick-bitter taste of Stacy's cigarettes; she brushes her teeth in the bathroom after Stacy leaves, the cool mint burning her chapped lips. She sucks in a breath, splashes ice-cold water on her face, pats her cheeks dry with paper towels while she tries not to smudge her mascara. Her lipstick's already smeared beyond repair.
It's not like she doesn't know she shouldn't be doing this. House is her friend, though he'd probably disagree, or at least refuse to admit it, and he's lying broken in a hospital bed. Cuddy stood by while Stacy did what she thought was right, and now she's caught between the two of them, in more ways than one. She's Stacy's boss, and she's always hated the idea of a relationship with an employee, but when Stacy came to her, crying and worried; desperate for a pair of open ears and for comfort, Cuddy got carried away. The infarction hasn't been easy for anyone; the only person House will talk to is Wilson (the "innocent" in all of this) and Cuddy knows it's eating at Stacy.
Later, she stops by House's room, checking in on him, even though she knows he hates that, hates having people treat him like he's an invalid. He doesn't say anything, just looks her over, and she thinks-just for a second-he knows.