(no subject)
Title: Practical Application (4/?)
Author: rolleson
Fandom: House
Rating: R
Character/Pairing: House/Cuddy
Spoilers: Up to House's Head.
Warnings: None really.
Summery: "Things are weird, with House."
Notes: Part Four. I'm basing an entire fic on conversations about porn without there actually being any porn. Yet. On my hard drive this fic is actually called Genital Hospital. 1455 words.
i. Hot And Bothered
ii. Hesitations
iii. Weird
It was a lot of speculation and conversation for nothing, Cuddy decided. Neither of them were going to do anything about what had been said. They would go back to normal, screaming, shouting, pushing and pulling. Except maybe she'd call him Greg sometimes, during those moments when he looked almost vulnerable, during the times the pain darkened his blue eyes. She couldn't imagine him calling her Lisa again. Definitely couldn't imagine him ever calling her Lise.
Not without a little whine at the end at least.
She smiled. College with House had been a lot of fun. Her finals had been three months of flirting, six months of dating and then she'd left him because, because it had been for the best, for her. Selfish, and she'd expected him to shout that at her, had seen his anger, but he'd understood.
He'd been hurt, but he'd understood and she was upset that she'd hurt him, but she'd done worse since.
And he'd made up for his lack of anger then.
"Earth to Cuddy," House said, waving his cane in front of her face. She frowned, the man irritated the hell out of her, but she realised, he had done back then too.
"House," she said, trying to bite back the growl.
"I thought you were calling me Greg now?" he asked.
"Not when I'm pissed with you."
"What did I do?!"
"I don't know, but I can feel something."
"You're still pissed about the porn and the kiss," he said, "you're still thinking about the porn and the kiss," he accused.
"Shhh," she hissed, looking around the clinic, "and so are you."
"The porn certainly."
"Can we ever have a serious conversation?" she asked.
"Nope," he said, "do you want one?"
"Nope."
"Do you want to have sex?" he asked.
"Nope. Do you?"
"Always," he said, leering down her top. She rolled her eyes.
Back to normal.
Except, she didn't want things to go back to normal.
*****
There was a dvd on her desk waiting for her when she got in work the next day. An office that had been locked over night, that even her assistant didn't have a key too. It made her suspicious. And whenever she was suspicious she thought of House.
She took the disk out of the plain black case, holding it carefully in her hand. In careful capital letters the title 'The Morning' was written in handwriting she didn't recognise. Not that it mattered, House had probably given her porn.
She assumed so until she saw the note that had been hidden underneath it saying 'it's not porn'.
She laughed to herself and dropped it into her in-tray.
*****
She made it to lunch without watching the film, fighting her curiosity for four hours while she caught up with her paperwork and chased up doctors for clinic duty. House wasn't the only one who was reluctant to fill their quota but he was the only doctor who needed more than a friendly reminder. Or an unfriendly threat.
She took her lunch break and without the distractions of her hospital she couldn't hold out any longer.
With a frustrated growl (frustration with herself and House) she grabbed the dvd and stalked over to the television and player, still set up from when she and House had watched the documentary. If it was porn she was going to be so pissed.
She locked the office door just in care.
She settled into the chair, and pressed play, taking a bite of her sandwich as the opening title sequence started. Then she smiled, a huge smile she could feel through her entire body.
"The Morning" was a Harry Pressing film. Harry, with his bad film student projects, and an apartment that smelt of cannabis and sweat. Harry was his scraggly black hair and his little brown sofa she and House had sat on twenty years ago.
*****
"What did you think?" House asked, seeing the dvd on the table to his right.
"The acting was better," she said and he smirked, "I didn't realised you followed Harry's career."
"Not by choice." Cuddy smiled at that. "He keeps in touch, has done for a long time." He shrugged at his own answer, tapping his cane on the floor.
"It was good," she said, still smiling, "have you watched it?"
"Yeah. It was pretentious."
"A little, but if I recall, Harry was pretentious."
"Still is."
"Why were you ever friends with him?"
"He had good connections."
"Drugs," she said flatly.
"Among other things," he said popping a Vicodin. She rolled her eyes.
"Thank you," she told him, "for the film."
It was a nice gesture, they both knew it, another little foray into the past, when they hadn't been so lonely and he could run faster than she could. They weren't going to say it though. House didn't do nice, hell, neither did Cuddy much anyway.
"You're welcome," he muttered, whirling around and grabbing the dvd as he walked out.
*****
"Things are weird, with House," Cuddy said. Wilson looked up from his newspaper with a frown, he looked around quickly as she sat down opposite him, with no tray or drink of her own.
"Deja vu."
"What?"
"Never mind," he said with a smile, "you were saying?"
"I thought things were going back to normal but they're not."
"What happened?"
"He gave me a dvd to watch."
Oh," Wilson stopped eating, "look, House has an odd sense of humour. Whatever sort of porn it was, the best thing to do it just not watch..."
"It wasn't porn."
"Oh."
"He gives you porn?" Cuddy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sometimes," Wilson said, blushing fiercely, "he didn't give you porn?"
"No."
"What was it?"
"An independent film made by a friend of House's we knew in college."
"And it wasn't porn?"
"No, it was good actually, funny and sweet."
"Sweet?"
"House didn't make the film."
"Did he watch it?" Wilson asked.
"Says so," she sighed and sat back in her chair.
"So he gave you a dvd to watch and now things are weird again?"
"Yes."
"And weird is bad?"
"Yes," she paused, "at least when things are normal I know what to expect from him," she said, taking a fry from his plate that she'd been looking at since she had sat down. "That dvd, it was almost a nice thing to do."
"If we weren't talking about House, it would be."
"Exactly, but it is House."
"Talk to him Cuddy," Wilson said, "go up to him and demand answers like you would with anything else. It will give you the confidence you need to treat it normally. Treat him normally."
"You're right."
"It happens." She smiled then, taking another fry.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
*****
It was a good idea in theory, but like all idea and experiments, the theory was flawless but the practical application not so much.
She stalked through the corridors of her hospital, never more grateful for 'fuck-me' heels. They always made her feel just that little but more invincible, if only because she could imagine stabbing House through the heart with them.
Thin wall between love and hate, she reminded herself.
She tried not to falter when she stepped over the threshold into his office, his territory, to see a small stack of dvds on his desk.
"More of Harry's creations. Some of the better ones," he said when he saw where she was looking. "Thought you might enjoy them."
"Oh," she hesitated, shocked, "thank you." He didn't reply, turning to his computer, and she stood still, having completely lost her focus for the moment. "What's going on?"
"An exchange between and employee and employer as far as I can tell," he said without missing a beat.
"Between us."
"The exchange. I think I just covered that. Unless you can see subtext in me giving you dvds that aren't porn. Though 'Seven Days' is pretty racy," he said, holding up a dvd.
"No, if you had given me porn, I could handle that, but you haven't," she said, finally walking further into the room, "you give Wilson porn, apparently, you give me something that reminds us both of when we were together."
"You can handle porn?" he asked.
"Damn you, fixating on the least important thing I say. As usual."
"At least I'm fixating in what you say and not the fact you're about to have a wardrobe malfunction worthy of the red carpet." She blushed and looked down at her breasts, her top a little lower that it should've been but there was no danger. She glared at him.
"Dammit House," she said before stalking off and out of his House.
Things were no different.
Author: rolleson
Fandom: House
Rating: R
Character/Pairing: House/Cuddy
Spoilers: Up to House's Head.
Warnings: None really.
Summery: "Things are weird, with House."
Notes: Part Four. I'm basing an entire fic on conversations about porn without there actually being any porn. Yet. On my hard drive this fic is actually called Genital Hospital. 1455 words.
i. Hot And Bothered
ii. Hesitations
iii. Weird
It was a lot of speculation and conversation for nothing, Cuddy decided. Neither of them were going to do anything about what had been said. They would go back to normal, screaming, shouting, pushing and pulling. Except maybe she'd call him Greg sometimes, during those moments when he looked almost vulnerable, during the times the pain darkened his blue eyes. She couldn't imagine him calling her Lisa again. Definitely couldn't imagine him ever calling her Lise.
Not without a little whine at the end at least.
She smiled. College with House had been a lot of fun. Her finals had been three months of flirting, six months of dating and then she'd left him because, because it had been for the best, for her. Selfish, and she'd expected him to shout that at her, had seen his anger, but he'd understood.
He'd been hurt, but he'd understood and she was upset that she'd hurt him, but she'd done worse since.
And he'd made up for his lack of anger then.
"Earth to Cuddy," House said, waving his cane in front of her face. She frowned, the man irritated the hell out of her, but she realised, he had done back then too.
"House," she said, trying to bite back the growl.
"I thought you were calling me Greg now?" he asked.
"Not when I'm pissed with you."
"What did I do?!"
"I don't know, but I can feel something."
"You're still pissed about the porn and the kiss," he said, "you're still thinking about the porn and the kiss," he accused.
"Shhh," she hissed, looking around the clinic, "and so are you."
"The porn certainly."
"Can we ever have a serious conversation?" she asked.
"Nope," he said, "do you want one?"
"Nope."
"Do you want to have sex?" he asked.
"Nope. Do you?"
"Always," he said, leering down her top. She rolled her eyes.
Back to normal.
Except, she didn't want things to go back to normal.
*****
There was a dvd on her desk waiting for her when she got in work the next day. An office that had been locked over night, that even her assistant didn't have a key too. It made her suspicious. And whenever she was suspicious she thought of House.
She took the disk out of the plain black case, holding it carefully in her hand. In careful capital letters the title 'The Morning' was written in handwriting she didn't recognise. Not that it mattered, House had probably given her porn.
She assumed so until she saw the note that had been hidden underneath it saying 'it's not porn'.
She laughed to herself and dropped it into her in-tray.
*****
She made it to lunch without watching the film, fighting her curiosity for four hours while she caught up with her paperwork and chased up doctors for clinic duty. House wasn't the only one who was reluctant to fill their quota but he was the only doctor who needed more than a friendly reminder. Or an unfriendly threat.
She took her lunch break and without the distractions of her hospital she couldn't hold out any longer.
With a frustrated growl (frustration with herself and House) she grabbed the dvd and stalked over to the television and player, still set up from when she and House had watched the documentary. If it was porn she was going to be so pissed.
She locked the office door just in care.
She settled into the chair, and pressed play, taking a bite of her sandwich as the opening title sequence started. Then she smiled, a huge smile she could feel through her entire body.
"The Morning" was a Harry Pressing film. Harry, with his bad film student projects, and an apartment that smelt of cannabis and sweat. Harry was his scraggly black hair and his little brown sofa she and House had sat on twenty years ago.
*****
"What did you think?" House asked, seeing the dvd on the table to his right.
"The acting was better," she said and he smirked, "I didn't realised you followed Harry's career."
"Not by choice." Cuddy smiled at that. "He keeps in touch, has done for a long time." He shrugged at his own answer, tapping his cane on the floor.
"It was good," she said, still smiling, "have you watched it?"
"Yeah. It was pretentious."
"A little, but if I recall, Harry was pretentious."
"Still is."
"Why were you ever friends with him?"
"He had good connections."
"Drugs," she said flatly.
"Among other things," he said popping a Vicodin. She rolled her eyes.
"Thank you," she told him, "for the film."
It was a nice gesture, they both knew it, another little foray into the past, when they hadn't been so lonely and he could run faster than she could. They weren't going to say it though. House didn't do nice, hell, neither did Cuddy much anyway.
"You're welcome," he muttered, whirling around and grabbing the dvd as he walked out.
*****
"Things are weird, with House," Cuddy said. Wilson looked up from his newspaper with a frown, he looked around quickly as she sat down opposite him, with no tray or drink of her own.
"Deja vu."
"What?"
"Never mind," he said with a smile, "you were saying?"
"I thought things were going back to normal but they're not."
"What happened?"
"He gave me a dvd to watch."
Oh," Wilson stopped eating, "look, House has an odd sense of humour. Whatever sort of porn it was, the best thing to do it just not watch..."
"It wasn't porn."
"Oh."
"He gives you porn?" Cuddy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sometimes," Wilson said, blushing fiercely, "he didn't give you porn?"
"No."
"What was it?"
"An independent film made by a friend of House's we knew in college."
"And it wasn't porn?"
"No, it was good actually, funny and sweet."
"Sweet?"
"House didn't make the film."
"Did he watch it?" Wilson asked.
"Says so," she sighed and sat back in her chair.
"So he gave you a dvd to watch and now things are weird again?"
"Yes."
"And weird is bad?"
"Yes," she paused, "at least when things are normal I know what to expect from him," she said, taking a fry from his plate that she'd been looking at since she had sat down. "That dvd, it was almost a nice thing to do."
"If we weren't talking about House, it would be."
"Exactly, but it is House."
"Talk to him Cuddy," Wilson said, "go up to him and demand answers like you would with anything else. It will give you the confidence you need to treat it normally. Treat him normally."
"You're right."
"It happens." She smiled then, taking another fry.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
*****
It was a good idea in theory, but like all idea and experiments, the theory was flawless but the practical application not so much.
She stalked through the corridors of her hospital, never more grateful for 'fuck-me' heels. They always made her feel just that little but more invincible, if only because she could imagine stabbing House through the heart with them.
Thin wall between love and hate, she reminded herself.
She tried not to falter when she stepped over the threshold into his office, his territory, to see a small stack of dvds on his desk.
"More of Harry's creations. Some of the better ones," he said when he saw where she was looking. "Thought you might enjoy them."
"Oh," she hesitated, shocked, "thank you." He didn't reply, turning to his computer, and she stood still, having completely lost her focus for the moment. "What's going on?"
"An exchange between and employee and employer as far as I can tell," he said without missing a beat.
"Between us."
"The exchange. I think I just covered that. Unless you can see subtext in me giving you dvds that aren't porn. Though 'Seven Days' is pretty racy," he said, holding up a dvd.
"No, if you had given me porn, I could handle that, but you haven't," she said, finally walking further into the room, "you give Wilson porn, apparently, you give me something that reminds us both of when we were together."
"You can handle porn?" he asked.
"Damn you, fixating on the least important thing I say. As usual."
"At least I'm fixating in what you say and not the fact you're about to have a wardrobe malfunction worthy of the red carpet." She blushed and looked down at her breasts, her top a little lower that it should've been but there was no danger. She glared at him.
"Dammit House," she said before stalking off and out of his House.
Things were no different.