Gift of Screws, Chapter 21.1
Title: Gift of Screws, Chapter Twenty One, Part One
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: NC-17 for sex
Characters: House, Cuddy, Rachel Cuddy
Author's Note: This piece takes place in the future when Rachel is five; House and Cuddy are in an established relationship.
Warning: This fic also contains sex. If that bothers you, don't read. This chapter has a mention of animal cruelty that occurred in the past.
Summary: For a price, House agrees to celebrate Purim with Cuddy and Rachel. But although he's getting all the sex he
wants, he's still not sure he'll be able to last the weekend. Established relationship, contains sexual situations.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9 (Part 1), Chapter 9 (Part 2), Chapter 9 (Part 3), Chapter 9 (Part 4), Chapter 10 (Part 1), Chapter 10 (Part 2), Chapter 10 (Part 3), Chapter 11, Chapter 12 (Part 1), Chapter 12 (Part 2), Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18 (Part 1), Chapter 18 (Part 2), Chapter 19 (Part 1), Chapter 19 (Part 2), Chapter 19 (Part 3), Chapter 19 (Part 4), Chapter 20 (Part 1), Chapter 20 (Part 2)
Disclaimer: I don't own it.
"Essential oils are wrung:
The attar from the rose
Is not expressed by suns alone,
It is the gift of screws." - Emily Dickinson
Taking the proffered snifter, House did not drink from it. The smell of the alcohol was tantalizing, and part of him thought that it would, for sure, make the party all the more bearable if he were to drink from this rare bottle that he would never have a chance to sample again. But his curiosity for the taste was outmatched by the intrigue of Arianne’s behavior.
He had never met her before. Unless he was imagining things, he was sure that he had seen her walking around the hospital, and because of that, there was a good chance he’d insulted her a time or two. But he hadn’t ever really met her, much less talked to her. And yet, he had seen her discomfort around Cuddy, and in turn, he had noticed Cuddy’s unease around her.
Instantly he had known that there was a history there that he had not been privy to, and then, no matter his interest in the alcohol, the only thing that mattered to him was hearing about said history.
Naturally he could only assume that Arianne had every intention of telling him the truth. House had trouble believing she would decant what was considered the eighth most expensive bottle of booze for just anyone or for the trivial reason of wanting to know what it tasted like. Maybe she would if she were an idiot, but Arianne had gone through the trouble of taking him to the elaborate, temperature-controlled wine cellar, which had stacks of wines and fine liquors from ceiling to floor. Had this been a move of sheer stupidity, she would have brought the bottle out for everyone to sip from. But she had brought him here into this stone enclave away from the party. She had brought him here to tell him what she knew.
Because of that, he didn’t bother with the niceties. The second he had the glass in his hands, he got right to the point. “So this is the part where you tell me something dark and seedy about my girlfriend, right? Just so I’m clear where we are in this little charade.”
She, however, wasn’t interested in getting straight to the point. “You should drink that. It’s -”
“One of one hundred ten bottles made, originally bottled in 2005 exactly fifty years to the day after it was initially distilled,” he said with a nod. “I know what it is. Considered possibly one of the best malts released by Glenfarclas. If you’re sharing it with me, I can only assume you have an ulterior motive for bringing me here. Especially if you have no interest in drinking yourself.”
She folded her arms across her chest, her diamond bracelet lightly snagging on the red satin ruffles across the front of her dress. “I can’t. I’m pregnant.”
House shook his head. “No.”
“No?”
“Let’s just say with women your age, if you’re not getting your period, it’s the result of a different phenomenon altogether.”
Arianne was not fazed by his words. He didn’t wonder why. Based on the number of years he’d seen her in the hospital and the number of marriages Sanford Wells had had between his first wedding to her and this latest one, House had an idea of how old she was. Surely, she was older than Cuddy, though not by much, but those years barely showed in her features. Few lines marred her attractive face, and he knew that wasn’t the result of Botox, because her disgust for his girlfriend had been more than obvious. Her dark corkscrew curls framed her cheeks nicely, not even the slightest hint of gray in the locks. And he didn’t know if that was a dye job or what, but either way, regardless of the number of years, she looked young. No matter what he said, she didn’t need to worry about being perceived as old, because a woman like her would never resemble her years.
What she said though was, “Really?” Smirking she reached over onto one of the shelves. Grabbing a folder he hadn’t noticed before, she handed it to him. “My lab reports. Does that look like menopause to you, Dr. House?”
He set his glass down on another shelf that he was near. Silently he opened up the folder and quickly skimmed through what looked like the results of CVS testing. He looked back up at her. “You brought me down here for a consult?”
“These are just the preliminary results, but I wanted to know if you saw any reason as to why I should abort.”
House looked at her carefully. “Are you looking for a reason to abort or -”
“No,” she said calmly without any particular vehemence behind it.
“That’s interesting, because you don’t seem to care either way which -”
“I don’t,” she admitted. “The antibiotics I was taking made my birth control less effective, and though my dear, aging husband said he would pull out before he ejaculated, when it came time to do it, he forgot. Hence, I’ve opened his prized liquor and decided to give some to you.”
Instantly House reached for the drink he’d set to the side. The mental picture her words were providing suddenly made alcohol a necessity, and when he swallowed the booze, he also bit back the bile rising in the back of his throat. “Yeah, that’s an image that’s gonna be hard to forget.”
She took the snifter from him and refilled his glass. But she didn’t give it to him. She just said, “Tell me what your opinion is first.”
“You said this was a preliminary report?” He asked the question though he barely knew how to muster up the interest to listen to her mutter the affirmative. As soon as the words escaped his mouth, he was beyond caring about her response; his mind was focused on the test results in front of him. “There are no anomalies in this.”
She didn’t seem relieved when he looked back up at her. “But even if the full report says the same thing, it wouldn’t detect neural tube defects, would it?”
“No. And given your age, you should probably have an AFP done to make sure.”
“Then when can I come see you to have that done?”
He resisted the urge to laugh. “Yeah, see, one perk of banging the boss is that I don’t have to draw blood or do those tests.”
“Fine,” she said immediately. “But if you agree to consult on the remainder of my pregnancy, I’ll tell you right now why I don’t like your girlfriend.”
It was a tempting offer. He wouldn’t deny that he had half a mind to agree to her terms right then and there. But hearing her say that she had a problem with Cuddy forced him to play it cool.
“No,” he replied sharply. “You tell me what your issue with Cuddy is first, and then I’ll consider a consult. One consult.”
“If I’m going to tell you anything, it’s going to be with the understanding that I’ll have access to your medical expertise whenever I want, that you’ll consider it at least. And before you say no, I should remind you that I am empowered to have you fired.”
He was not fazed in the least by her threat. “I have tenure.”
“Which can be revoked.”
“You’d need the rest of the board’s approval. And if having sex with one of them for the last several years hasn’t earned her loyalty, I’m not -”
“I thought you might make that point,” she said with a smile. Her hand smoothing back one of her dark curls, she added in a tone that wasn’t quite as friendly, “So allow me to make one of my own. Replacing a board member is much easier than firing someone with tenure. And given this scandal Dr. Cuddy seems to find herself in, I don’t think it would take much to convince my husband and our colleagues that she is no longer suited for -”
“You’re going to fire Cuddy because I won’t consider consulting throughout your pregnancy.” He made his doubt apparent, calling her bluff.
Her response was immediate. “I would fire her for many reasons. Up until now, I have chosen to work with her out of considerations that don’t involve you. But I am willing to rethink that if you force me into that frame of mind.”
It was not in House’s nature to enjoy being manipulated or threatened. Well, he supposed that no one ever appreciated being blackmailed. But he guessed that others were more willing to back down when forced; others didn’t have the same compulsive need to challenge the rules like he did, and therefore it was that much harder for him to let Arianne walk all over him.
He really didn’t want to agree to her terms. He really didn’t.
But what choice did he have? Although Cuddy hadn’t done anything wrong, this scandal could easily reflect poorly on her. And someone like Arianne certainly had the muscle to guarantee that that happened. Then again, maybe she didn’t. She seemed to have enough animosity for Cuddy to have acted on it in the past, and if she hadn’t, House couldn’t believe it wasn’t for a lack of effort. So perhaps Arianne didn’t have the power she thought she did.
He couldn’t bet on that though. Maybe it was his instinct to do so, but he couldn’t do it. Because while he would eventually be affected, the person who would be affected first and foremost was his girlfriend. Even if she didn’t get fired, that didn’t matter. Arianne had enough clout to create the question as to whether or not Cuddy was good enough at her job.
Truth be told, he thought that Cuddy probably already worried about that. She had done as good a job as anyone possibly could to hide the frustration and fear this kind of situation inevitably caused. Certainly John’s kiss had provided a tiny distraction from all of that, and House guessed the whole debacle with Rachel this afternoon had done that as well. But those distractions hadn’t been ones to relieve her of her concern, and if she’d been acting crazed all day, he knew it was because everything she was feeling was coming to a head. She was getting to that point where she could no longer deny how all of this was making her feel, where all of her worries were so obvious that they seemed written on her face.
And he had seen it, all of it. No matter what she’d tried to hide, he’d noticed it. Then, he hadn’t had a chance to do anything to make the situation better. Sure, he’d done his best to make her feel better, but fix the situation? There had been no way he could do that then. She was his boss, and he couldn’t protect her from much of anything professionally, a fact that he resented and was perpetually mindful of for many reasons.
But now, Arianne had changed that dynamic. She was giving him the opportunity to protect Cuddy from being fired, from facing an inquest possibly; it was hard to know what exactly he would be sparing Cuddy from, because Arianne was smartly keeping the specifics under wraps. Even without knowing exactly what she intended, he understood that he had a chance here to protect Cuddy. And if he didn’t take that opportunity, what would that say about him? That being defiant meant more to him than Cuddy? That, for all of his attempts at making her feel better, he would willingly make her life worse in order to maintain his own comfort?
He couldn’t do that.
“I’ll consider it,” he said flatly.
“You’ll do it.”
There was a pause as he worked up the ability to eventually say, “I’ll do it.”
“How sweet - protecting the woman you -”
“Get to the point.”
She pulled the file out of his hands. “I’ll have this faxed to your office tomorrow morning.” After she set the folder to the side, she handed him his drink back, which he was grateful for. He didn’t show his unease by sipping it, but secretly he was relieved to have alcohol at his fingertips once more.
Not that it would make anything better. He knew it wasn’t going to. But at the same time, he thought it couldn’t hurt either.
“Now that that’s taken care of,” she said in a voice that would have sounded cheery coming from someone else. “I’ll let you in on a bit of history. It’s unfortunate that you would be willing to do something you obviously don’t want to do for someone like her.”
“As fun as it is to hear you imply there’s something wrong with my girlfriend, I’d prefer you just come out and say something offensive - preferably about her breasts or giant ass, so that I may at least think of those things while you’re talking.”
“She slept with my husband.”
The words didn’t register with him immediately. He understood what she was saying, but it had no meaning for him. Did she mean Cuddy had slept with Sanford Wells years ago - like the last time Arianne was married to him? Or was she trying to convince House that Cuddy had been cheating on him?
He didn’t believe the latter. Unfortunately for Arianne, her timing was awful; he’d seen just how adverse Cuddy was to the idea of having an affair. John had been the one to kiss her, but she’d still reacted as though she’d done something wrong, and it was impossible for House to believe then that she would intentionally sleep with another man.
“Years ago,” Arianne clarified before he could even demand that she do so. “That’s why we got divorced. I knew he was cheating on me, and it turned out that she was the one he was having the affair with, most likely so that she could get the job she current possesses.”
She lost him there. He could believe that Cuddy had had sex with Wells. He didn’t want to believe that, but he guessed it was possible; it could have happened though it made him nauseous to picture that pairing. Under no circumstances could he believe that she had used sex to get her job.
People who did that had no other options or suffered from a lack of imagination. Cuddy was one of those individuals who had nothing but options. She was incredibly smart, which was why she’d easily been able to succeed in med school classes she’d audited when she’d been a teenager still. She was… charismatic and ambitious, and all of that had made her poised to get whatever she wanted professionally. The fact that she was hot absolutely made it easier for her; how many men had she conned donations from by inadvertently distracting them with her beauty, he wondered. But he would never believe that she had purposely traded sex for a job. Why would she when she had no reason to?
She wouldn’t.
But in taking the time to come to that conclusion, House had given Arianne the impression that he agreed with her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding more honest than he expected.
Immediately he made a face of confused shock, an emotion displayed for her benefit only.
“You feel betrayed,” she supplied.
“Of course, I do,” he said with a dramatic nod of the head. “All my life, I was told once you go black, you never go back. Either I’ve been lied to all this time or my penis is just that -”
“You want to joke about it, so that I won’t know how bothered you are that it’s the truth.”
He refused to agree with that. Whether or not she was right was irrelevant to him at that moment. What mattered was making sure he didn’t give her any ammunition against Cuddy. Even though at that particular second he wasn’t exactly feeling protective of her, it was truly the least she deserved.
“Yeah, that’s exactly it,” he said with heavy sarcasm lacing every word. “Because, when I started dating a woman in her forties with a child, my first thought was she seems like a virgin, sure.”
“A child, yes. Someone else’s,” Arianne said with just barely suppressed glee. “And from what I understand, a mediocre orphan at best. So how could -”
“I get it,” he interrupted out of irritation. “You want to piss me off in the hopes that I’ll want to punish her for the conversation we’ve just had and ruin her night, which would make you happy. But that’s not going to happen.”
She wasn’t convinced. “Oh but I think it will.”
“I don’t care. Because even if you’re right, you’re still forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?” she asked in a voice that was nearly breathless. Just the idea that she might have gotten to him, that she might cause Cuddy pain, had her on the edge of her seat.
“You’ve just convinced me to monitor your pregnancy,” he pointed out coldly. He took a step closer to her as the thought hit her. In the back of his mind, he knew it was stupidly wrong to do it. But in the cool air of the wine cellar, away from the party, it felt appropriate to then threaten her, “Make fun of my kid again, insist on needling me about my girlfriend… and who knows what will happen during your next exam?”
He did not expect her to back down. In the few minutes he had been talking to her, House had figured that she was not the kind to cower away. And indeed, she didn’t. Her face remaining impassive, she asked calmly, “Do you think it’s wise to say things like that to your boss’s wife?”
“Sure. Accidents happen. There’s no harm in saying -”
“They don’t happen to you.” He pretended to be shocked. “You’re Doctor House. You’re always right.”
“No, I’m almost always eventually right,” he corrected. “There’s a difference. Given your age, your husband’s age, the fact that you were talking about wanting to sample alcohol in front of a group of people, and then specifically requested my medical advice - there isn’t a person out there who would be surprised if something were to happen to -”
“And you would purposely jeopardize the health of my child because I don’t like your girlfriend.” There was a hint of doubt, disbelief that he would go so far or that she had earned such wrath.
House shook his head. “I don’t care that you don’t like her. But insulting our kid who has absolutely nothing to do with any of this? Using me to hurt Cuddy? That I am going to have a problem, which you should know going forward from here on out.” He quickly drank down the rest of the liquor in his hand. Placing the glass down noisily next to him, he said in a dark voice, “I’d hate for us to have a misunderstanding.”
“No, we’re perfectly clear with one another.” She said the words through gritted teeth, but she didn’t look affected in the least.
“Wonderful.” He started to leave but couldn’t resist saying, as he left her behind, “Thanks for the drink.”
Returning to the party, he never once glanced back. House was tempted to see what her reaction was, but he knew that, if he looked back at her, his words would lose their potency. And that was the last thing he wanted. Because just as it was with John, so too was House determined here to make sure Arianne didn’t hurt his relationship with Cuddy.
He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he didn’t care if the other woman hated his girlfriend. He didn’t. If they wanted to dislike one another, he wasn’t going to put a stop to that - especially not when the potential for a sexy catfight seemed high. But he would never help anyone else hurt Cuddy. He would never put his relationship in jeopardy for a third party.
He certainly wasn’t going to drag a five year old into the mess to accomplish that. House had lied, of course, when he’d called Rachel his child. She wasn’t, and he didn’t think she was; hell, even if he’d wanted to, Cuddy would have never allowed that to happen. But he could have never let on to Arianne that that was the case. No doubt she would have seized on that little bit of information and used it against Cuddy. And maybe she deserved to have that used against her. But Rachel definitely didn’t. She was young and already burdened by her fair share of problems; whatever Arianne’s issues were with Cuddy, Rachel didn’t need to be brought into that. Whether or not he’d succeeded in that though… well, that was anyone’s guess.
Returning to the party, he tried to convince himself that an attempt was better than nothing. His eyes scanning the crowd for Cuddy, he thought that his efforts were more than what most would do in that situation. Certainly, expecting his girlfriend to be metaphorically blowing some jackass, he felt that he had done more than she herself had up to this point. But that didn’t make him feel any better. So when he couldn’t find Cuddy in the large group of people all around him, he was compelled to seek her out.
Of course, even though he’d seen the direction she’d gone it, she wasn’t easy to find. Wells’s large mansion made that task anything but simple. He entered a few empty rooms, took enough wrong turns to find one of what he assumed was many bathrooms. Course correcting himself, he managed to accidentally discover where they were keeping the kids as well. The door to the room was closed, but through it, he could hear Rachel threatening loudly to hit one of the other children with her. To be honest, House hoped she would so that they would have to leave. Then again, if they got kicked out, no doubt, Cuddy would bitch about it for the rest of the evening. But as long as he got to go home, he supposed he could handle that part.
Ignoring the dull thump coming from behind the door, he pressed onward. But it still took him another five minutes or so before he found Cuddy. She was in Wells’s office with her back toward the open door.
Looking out one of the windows into the darkness, she must have seen his reflection in the glass. Before he’d even had a chance to close the door behind him, she turned to him and said honestly and almost desperately, “They won’t notice if we leave now, right?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line,” he told her, kicking the door shut behind him. “You’re looking sexier by the second.”
Her confession was nearly instantaneous. “John was here.”
“Well, of course he was,” House replied sarcastically, the response coming out of his mouth before he even had a chance to stop himself. “This is the day, apparently, for all of your past conquests to come back and haunt you. We get a Ouija board out, I’m sure Daddy’s best friend -”
“You really need to let that one go eventually.”
“Or maybe,” he said ignoring her, “the creepy uncle with the wandering eye and -”
“That never happened and if it had -”
“Interesting, because that would explain your apparent proclivity for having sex with older men and -”
“John’s not old,” she interrupted like that was really the appropriate point to make just then.
“But he is in a position of power, which also -”
“Wow.” Her voice was as patronizing as she could make it. “She must have really gotten to you if you’re this stupid.”
He didn’t deny it. “I don’t actually care that you slept with him or anyone else, but if I could, I don’t know, not meet every single one of them, that’d be nice. Especially since statistically I don’t have enough years to meet every notch in your bedpost.”
On another day, it wouldn’t have upset her. Then again, on any other day, would he have felt compelled to say the things that he was? Cuddy understood the answer to that was probably not. Certainly he wouldn’t have gotten to her then. But today it did bother her. If only because there had been so many other issues for them to sort through, his remarks were impossible for her to take lightly.
Angry and frustrated, she snapped, “Well, I’ll tell you what, House. Since I can’t possibly imagine how upsetting this has been for you, you can drive down to the nearest street corner after the party and force me to meet some of the women you slept with before me. Okay?”
“Oooh. Burn.”
Her overreaction was made all the more apparent by his cool response. Though he was being sarcastic, there was no bite to the words. As if it wasn’t even worth his time to get upset, he said the words he clearly felt she wanted to hear. And uttered with as little enthusiasm as possible, his reaction gave her pause - as he had intended it to.
His quiet reproach felt like she’d been doused with cold water. Her frustration lingered beneath the surface still, but his soft disapproval gave her enough pause to control herself.
“I’m sorry,” she told him, though she didn’t exactly feel that way.
With a shrug, he said, “Don’t be. You’re more than welcome to overreact. I’m curious to see where you’re going to take this.”
And he was, she thought. There was something about his demeanor… something almost quiet about him that suggested he was handling her carefully. Tiptoeing around the edges, he was gingerly prodding her, lazily and sensitively seeing where this was headed.
“Nowhere,” she said after a moment. Exhaling raggedly, she elaborated. “This isn’t going anywhere.” Admitting that felt like defeat, and it showed in her voice.
“Punched yourself out then?” As he calmly took a few steps towards her, she understood that she hadn’t. This day had put her on edge, and at any moment, she knew she could lash out. She would. Her anger would have no purpose, would solve absolutely none of her problems. But that hardly mattered to her then.
So it wasn’t surprising that she snapped back, “I didn’t say that.”
“Obviously not.” She turned away from him in exasperation, but he didn’t take the hint, placing his hands on her shoulders. Though she didn’t break the embrace, she didn’t relax into it either. “I’m not angry,” he told her, as though that was supposed to make everything better.
Abruptly Cuddy turned around. “You’re not angry, but you thought you would bring it up right now, because I don’t have enough to -”
“I brought it up, because I thought you should know that I know what -”
“Oh of course you did,” she said with a sneer. “She told you I slept with her husband, so that you would -”
“Get in a fight with you? Yeah, I know.”
That just made it worse. Disgust lacing every tone, she pointed out, “And you decided to bring it up anyway.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, finally his own frustration mirroring her own. “Because you’re not the only one unhappy that Johnny Boy,” he said, batting his eyelashes as though he had a crush on the other man. “Keeps turning up.”
Cuddy sighed. “Nothing happened.”
“He kissed you.”
She was taken aback by the comment. He had said all along that he wasn’t upset, that he wasn’t angry with her. All afternoon he had been supportive, but now he felt differently?
“You said -”
“I’m not mad at you,” he reiterated in an even voice. “But he kissed you, and that’s not nothing.”
She shook her head in irritation. “I meant nothing else happened. He… he said he was going to back off.”
“You believe him?”
The question wasn’t a doubtful one. It could have been, easily so, but instead, he really wanted to know, it seemed, what she thought of John’s words. That alone made her consider that perhaps House hadn’t been lying; he wasn’t angry with her but frustrated at her former lovers’ inability to stay out of their lives.
If that were the case, she could sympathize. But the thing about that was: she was in the exact same situation, just as fed up, just as disturbed by John’s actions. House hadn’t even been a witness to it the way she had, which made her feel as though she, more than he could ever hope, had a better grasp of just how horrifying today had been. And as such, rather than lash out at her, he should have been the one sympathizing with her.
Not the other way around.
However, pointing that out would get her nothing. She would sound whiny, and he would accuse her of being such. Then, after complaining that she was only thinking of herself, he would commit the same crime by ignoring all of her pain.
Again.
There was the empty feeling of disappointment centered in her abdomen at the thought. A hunger no physical thing could satiate, it made her ache with longing, yen for him to see that this was not at all what she had wanted. On some level, she was sure he understood that. He knew, deep down inside, that she hadn’t hoped any of this would occur. But playing to that piece of him could not involve anger on her part.
If she attacked, he would fight back. Her ire might give him pause, but inevitably, since he was suffering as well, he wouldn't be able to feel that bad for her then. He would, as she had, wonder why she was channeling all of her frustration in his direction. At that point, he would retaliate, try to hand her back her agitation, and then they would be back to square one; they would be just as irritable as they were now, maybe even more so. And they would get nowhere.
No, she thought, yelling definitely wasn't going to get her anywhere. The only option she had, it seemed, was to answer his question as honestly as possible, to make him feel sympathy by being honest, calm.
"I do," she said with a shrug eventually. "But it doesn't matter." The dejection she felt couldn't have been more apparent. "I mean... I guess it does, but Sanford Wells stood in front of us both and made it perfectly clear that I only have a job now because of John's donation."
"That's not the only reason."
"He thinks that's the only reason. So no matter what John told me, he's going to believe that -”
"Then I hope he runs into Wells's wife before he leaves, because she seems to think you only have your job because of her husband's donation. And by donation, I mean semen."
She didn't think there was any point in denying it. It wasn't true; it was absolutely not true. She’d spent one night with Sanford years ago, long after she’d been made dean of medicine, months after Arianne had wrongly accused them of sleeping together and filed for divorce. But if House didn't already know that, why even bother saying otherwise? Why try to convince him of something that should have been obvious?
"Right," she muttered under her breath.
Reaching out for her once more, House pulled her into a hug. She didn't feel like being held, not after hearing that. But he left no room for discussion, and she didn't have it in her to fight anyway. And regardless of what she wanted, she found herself in his arms, her face pressed into his suit coat.
The hug was awkward on her part. He wanted it too much, and she didn't want it at all, and his enthusiasm was at odds with her own. He sensed that; she thought he must have known. But he didn't let go of her, and part of her, a very small, tiny piece of her was grateful.
In her ear, he said quietly, "You know I don't believe that."
She grunted into his chest. "I should hope not."
"Because if you did fuck for positions, you would have slept with me years ago."
She couldn't help but look up then. Her chin digging into his skin, she pointed out, "I outrank you."
"Technically."
"No -”
"Technically," he insisted. "We both know how much you like being beneath me."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're turning this into a joke about sex?"
"If I didn't, I'd be left thinking about how you banged the chairman of the board -"
"There was no banging."
"Oh from what I hear, there was and -"
"One time," she said calmly. "And it was hardly the sultry affair Arianne, I'm sure, made it out to be."
"Meaning you didn't orgasm?"
"Meaning I did; he didn't."
"Cause you were that bad in bed?" She could feel his chest puff out with pride. "I'm so glad I've taught you -"
"Because he got on his knees, and I didn't," she said smartly.
Instantly he wasn't so arrogant. His chest deflated, a sour expression contorting his features. And that disgust was evident in the way he spoke. "Well, now I've got that picture in my head. It's almost enough to cause permanent erectile dysfunction."
She felt no pity. "Why? Surely you knew I had sex with other men before -"
"Sure," he admitted. "Just like I know McDonalds’ Chicken McNuggets are made from chicken eyeballs, ammonia, and Ronald McDonald sperm. Doesn’t meant I want to think about it or get an eyeful of -”
“You’re comparing my sex life to -”
“Laws, sausages, and the notches on your bed post,” he explained matter of factly. “If I think about the events that led up to their existence, I get sick.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Because I haven’t puked on you yet or -”
“You’ve always been obsessed with who I’ve dated,” she pointed out. “If it bothered you, you would have never touched me.”
“Repression and lots of antacids helped. But I can’t exactly do that if your conquests keep popping back up for another squeeze and squirt with you.”
She grimaced at his choice of words. “Ignoring that wonderful euphemism -”
“I have others I can use if you’d prefer.”
“No thank you. I got your point, and it’s a stupid one.”
“Is it?” he asked patronizingly.
“Actually, more than stupid, it’s not true.”
He repeated himself. “Is it?”
“You’ve had sex with me today.”
“Yeah, before -”
“And after.”
His silence alone made it a triumph for her. But when he additionally bristled at her words and bumbled about for a retort, that just made victory all the more sweet.
“Well… I - that’s different,” he said in staccato consonants. “That was when there was one ex for me to think about. I could handle that, especially since G.I. Joe isn’t all that bad.”
She smirked. “And Sanford Wells is?”
“No.” The answer was curt, and she wasn’t exactly sure she should believe him. “But the two of them together….” He shook his head in disgust. “The mental picture of them with you - all at once - one on each end -”
“That actually never happened.”
“But I’m picturing it anyway, making it very difficult to want you right about -”
“You expect me to believe that,” she said doubtfully.
He looked down at her in surprise, as though it was given that she should. “I do.”
But there was not a single cell in her body that he’d managed to convince. Sure, she could trust that he had a sick and twisted imagination; he wasn’t lying about that. She could believe that he really did, at least briefly, picture the fairly vile things he was mentioning. Of course, if she were to truly consider the matter, it seemed highly likely that House imagining her in a threesome wasn’t an idea that had just hit him. John and Sanford Wells were probably the last people House had thought of her having sex with, but she was sure in that filthy mind of his that he had had all sorts of fantasies about her being used, as he had put it, from each end. And the other players might have been unattractive by his standards, but if the act involved her, he wasn’t totally turned off.
Because he was attracted to her.
And that was what it came down to. Forgetting everything else, at the end of the day, he wanted her. Her body, especially her body, her mind - all of it - he was attracted to. Over the years, she had found herself privy to glimpses to the depths of that need for her. She never knew how far that desire for her went within him, but every now and then, she’d caught a tiny snippet of emotion from him that made his love for her undeniable. If all this time together had taught her anything, it was that he loved her to a degree that no man had ever before or would after (should there be an after). That wasn’t to say she thought he lacked a breaking point. She was sure he had one; it would not be “You had sex with men before me” though.
She would never believe that. So unconvinced by his protestations, she actually thought that she could prove the opposite then. She could show that, no matter what his mind was picturing, he would still want her and act on it. Smirking, she decided to test her theory.
Now.
It was probably not the smartest thing to do - to attempt to seduce House while they were at a business dinner. But after her conversation with John and House’s conversation with Arianne Wells, it seemed like a pretty safe action. At first glance, that didn’t appear to be true. Cuddy knew though that both host and hostess (particularly the latter) would assume House was angry with her. After learning that Cuddy had slept with their boss? Any outsider would believe time away from the party meant House was fighting with her. In other words, no one would think that it was odd that they had disappeared. They wouldn’t come searching for them, wanting to give the couple privacy. And if House came back with sweat dripping off his face and Cuddy’s cheeks tinged red, conclusions would be made that they’d had a serious fight.
It would not be assumed that they’d been having sex.
Which meant she was free to do whatever she wanted right now. Given that Sanford Wells had essentially told her she had to keep working with John, the idea of making her own choices seemed particularly heady at that moment.
And so the decision to seduce House was an easy one, one without even the slightest hesitation on her part.
“I don’t believe you,” she said in a low voice.
“Well, you should.”
Pulling away from him, she put a hand on her hip. The move could have been seen as challenging, and maybe it was even. But she knew that House would be too distracted by the sudden emphasis on her curves to care. Indeed, his gaze instantly shifting downward, it was easy to see that she’d already caught his attention. No matter what he said, he couldn’t help but look.
“I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t,” she told him. “The way you’re looking at me right now -”
“What way is that?” His focus immediately returned to her face. He’d been caught, but of course, he wasn’t going to admit to it.
She didn’t really answer the question. “You want me, House. Even now.” She reconsidered her words, corrected herself - “Especially now.”
He had always been possessive of her. Even when he’d had no right to lay claim to her, he had done so anyway. Before either of them had recognized it, they had conquered the other, seized each other’s heart and attention with an ironclad grip that refused to be weakened by prettier women or safer men. Together now, that fact hadn’t changed. If anything it had become more true than ever. And she didn’t think he was lying when he said that he was turned off by the fact that she’d had sex with John and Wells. But she would never believe House had been turned off permanently. Because the possibility of her having ever been someone else’s was nothing if not a challenge. He might have been reluctant to see it that way, but that was precisely what he thought deep down.
She would make him realize that.
But he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
“We both know that’s not true,” he told her. “And even if it were, let’s not act like you’re going to prove me wrong right now.”
“You don’t think I can?”
“I don’t think you’ll try.”
Her lips pursed together as she tried to figure out how she should take the comment. Manipulation and challenge a standard currency between them, it would have been easy to believe he was baiting her. It was possible, maybe even likely, that he was trying to encourage her through doubt.
But if that were true, there would be some sign of it. His eyes would be lit with mischief; a smile would play at the corners of his mouth, and every now and then, he would gaze at her body with a longing she could almost feel. There would be something.
Right now, there wasn’t. And because of that, she could only believe that he meant for his words to be taken at face value.
Still, that… didn’t seem right to her. Knowing him, she thought he should have been challenging her. That he wasn’t was confusing, and that feeling showed momentarily.
“You think -”
“No, I know,” he interrupted, correcting his earlier assessment. “At your boss’s home, in his office where he knows you are, with that dress on?” He shook his head as though it were impossible for her to make a move on him at that moment.
“Dresses come off. Doors can be locked.”
That didn’t convince him. “You mentioned… wearing something underneath the dress.”
His voice was shaky, raspy from his throat going dry. Even as he tried to prove his point, his interest in her, she thought, ruled him. The attraction to her was obvious, undeniable (though if asked, he would deny). Without even realizing it, he was undermining his own argument.
“If that’s true, you’re not going to want to ruin the surprise now,” he finished firmly.
He was trying so hard, but it wasn’t going to work. She had him beat. With a shrug, he retorted, “Who says I have to do that?”
“Oh I get it. You’re going to blow me in your boss’s office. At a dinner party. With several donors who live under the delusion that, if they give you enough money, you’ll give their sausage a few dips in tuna town.”
“I don’t care what they think.”
“You do too,” he insisted. “And even if you didn’t, you’re definitely not above using it to your advantage.”
“If I want to have sex with my boyfriend, I don’t -”
“All right. Fine.” He dramatically threw his hands in the air and strolled over to the couch. No, she thought after a second - not strolled, strutted. Sitting on the sofa, he gestured towards his crotch. “Go ahead. Have at it. Let the dick sucking commence.”
“I get what you’re doing,” she said, walking toward the door. As she locked it, she explained, “You insult me, make yourself as undesirable as possible, so I’ll change my mind and walk out of here, so you can be right.”
He didn’t deny it. “Is it working?”
“Of course not. Don’t be stupid.”
“And yet you’re taking your sweet time getting over here.”
“Because I was locking the door, you moron,” she snapped. It never crossed her mind to rescind her invitation for sex; she wanted him, even if he were less than convinced. The idea in her mind, she wasn’t going to back down now. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t annoyed as well.
When she turned back to face him, one of his arms was casually slung over the back of the couch; he looked so calm and casual that, as irritated as it made her, she really did reconsider her position then.
“You could at least pretend as though this is interesting to you,” she complained, slowly walking towards him.
He didn’t take her advice. “Why would I do that? I told you today has challenged my attraction to you.”
“Oh please.”
“I’m just saying: this is your dog and pony show, not mine.” He cocked his head to the side in thought. “There are so many euphemisms I could make right now. It’s amazing how -”
“You know what?” She shook her head and sat down on the couch. “You win.”
Her patience had petered out surprisingly early. In her own estimation, she could have handled at least three or four more rounds with him. Nothing he’d been saying was particularly offensive, his quips dirtier than standard but without the hard edge she associated with him when he was actually agitated. He didn’t mean half the things he said, and that should have been enough for her to let the remarks slide. That was what she’d hoped for anyway.
But here she was, completely and undeniably unable to play the game one second longer. And if that shocked her, it was nothing compared to the taken back look House was giving her.
“That’s it?” he asked in mild surprise. “You’re done?”
“I guess so,” she said, laying her head down on his shoulder. Rationally the action seemed odd, to want to be close to him when he was driving her insane. But intuitively it felt right, okay to seek comfort from him even as he was the one who had made her need the reassurance to begin with.
Instantly her mind rejected the thought. As though someone else had suggested, the words coming out of someone’s mouth and not in her own head, she thought the idea was all wrong. He was bothering her, but he wasn’t the problem. Nearly everything else in her life was, and he was getting to her, but it wasn’t because he was being cruel. House was fine; everything else was not.
Clearly though he was willing to make her reconsider that by pressing onward. As flippant as always, he muttered into her hair, “I’m disappointed in your stamina. I thought you could last a good six or seven -”
“My stamina is fine. You’re the one throwing in the towel based on two one night stands decades old.”
Reaching down, she took off her shoes so she could pull her legs onto the couch without scratching the sofa cushions. Her gaze was cast on the ground, obscured by the dark locks of hair falling around her face. And she guessed the image of her doing that seemed sad to him. Not in a pathetic sort of way, but the act must have made him think that she was upset. Technically she supposed that was the truth. She was not particularly happy. But she hadn’t looked away in sadness, hadn’t been hoping to get an apology from him.
She got it anyway.
As she settled back against him, her feet tucked under her, he capitulated. “You know that’s not true.” Obviously she did. But saying that would make him revert to earlier behavior. Since she didn’t like that idea, she stayed silent. And disturbed by her quiet, he said in a firm voice, “It’s not true.”
“And yet you’re turning down sex.”
His lips brushed by her ear. He whispered, but the passion and heated promise in his words were unmistakable. “I’m not interested in a quickie. You think that’s what I want? With the way you’re dressed?”
She blinked slowly but didn’t look at him. His arm possessively wrapped around him, that was more than enough to stir some desire within her. And sure that, if she saw the heat in his gaze, she wouldn’t be able to hold back, she kept her eyes off him. So she purposely avoided looking at him and instead, chose to throw his earlier words back in his face.
“That’s not what you said -”
“Yeah, I was hoping you’d be desperate to prove me wrong, so that when we get home, you’d be so eager to -”
“I knew it.”
“I didn’t,” he insisted. “I had no idea you were going to go into heat spontaneously.” That surprise, however, didn’t leave him disappointed or dismayed. “But that’s okay,” he admitted in a conversational tone. “Now that I know how much you want it… well, that just makes things far more interesting.”
Continue on to the rest of the chapter