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readingrat) wrote2010-09-21 09:59 pm
readingrat) wrote2010-09-21 09:59 pm
Entry tags:
Twelve Days, Day 12
Viola:
My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.
Olivia:
If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear
As howling after music.
Duke Orsino:
Still so cruel?
Olivia:
Still so constant, lord.
[Twelfth Night, Act 5 Scene 1]
May 28, 2010: Day 12
(Ten days after the crane disaster in Trenton)
3 pm
Lucas walks up to the car parked at the curb and taps on the passenger window. Dr Nolan looks up from his journal, and then he leans sideways to open the door.
"Mr Douglas, I'm glad you could make it at such short notice."
"No problem," Lucas says, sliding into the passenger seat, "but why are we meeting in Princeton?" He's uneasy about this - it's a break in the pattern, so to say.
"I was in the area, so I thought I could kill a few birds with one stone. Do you have an hour or so for me?"
"Sure," Lucas says, shrugging, "though I honestly haven't got that much of a scoop for you. I gotta tell you that you're wasting your money. This case isn't worth the expenditure." That's the truth, for one thing. For another, he's come to the conclusion that he'd better get rid of this client before everything blows up in his face. The fracas with Simon Finchley on the PPTH parking lot convinced him that he's bitten off more than he can chew. Sooner or later someone (read: Lisa) is going to find out something that he'd rather not have her know if he doesn't manage to keep all the threads that he's weaving into his tapestry disentangled from each other.
"Not worth the cash I'm laying out or not worth the time you're investing?" Nolan enquires as he pulls away from the curb.
"Both," Lucas answers tersely. "Look, how you waste your money is none of my business ... where are we going?"
"I thought I'd visit the scene of the crime, make sure that Greg really is as fine as you say, meet some of the secondary characters and then hopefully close the case," Nolan says easily.
Lucas twists his head to look at Nolan. "You wanna go to PPTH? Yeah, well, you don't need me for that, I guess. You can just drop me off at the corner." He can't hide his unease at this turn of events, although he is very aware that Nolan is observing him as far as traffic will permit.
Nolan is remorseless. "Your presence would be helpful. Protocol dictates that as head of a similar institution I clear my impending visit with the dean. Patient confidentiality, however, forbids such a course of action. Furthermore, Dr House wouldn't appreciate it if I accosted him in front of colleagues and subordinates. I'd therefore prefer a meeting in the privacy of his office with no onlookers. All this means that I need someone familiar with the layout of the place to get me inside and to Dr House's office as discreetly as possible."
Lucas considers the pros and cons of agreeing to Nolan's request. If they meet House, Nolan will find out that he's been double-dealing. Unfortunately, this seems inevitable regardless of whether he accompanies Nolan or not; even if Nolan meets up with House by himself, there is no guarantee that House won't mention what Lucas has been up to. Correction: there is every likelihood that House won't lose a moment in filling Nolan in on Lucas's connection to PPTH. He's bound to lose Nolan as a client - okay, he's written him off anyway - and all outstanding payments to boot, but there's a slim chance that he'll be able to control the damage somehow.
All efforts must be bundled to shield Lisa from what has been going on in her absence. If he gets to her before House or his shrink do, he can sell the whole arrangement to her as an act of charity towards her poor friend House, who was falling apart so pitifully in her absence that anyone concerned for his well-being (and by extension for hers as his long-suffering boss) just had to step in and inform his therapist. Compassion with House will go down well with Lisa; she'll always have a soft spot for him. Though, if his source at the hospital can be believed, not soft enough to prevent another bout of yelling yesterday morning which apparently ended with Lisa throwing House bodily out of her office and snapping at everyone within sight the rest of the morning. Seems the day before House amused himself by drugging Wilson and then leaving his team alone with an undiagnosed patient, so that Lisa had to come in straight from Pittsburgh to set things aright. What a cretin! (House, not Lisa.)
All things considered, it isn't all that unlikely that although he, Lucas, has temporarily fallen from grace, he will be reinstated as soon as Lisa recovers from her menopausal mood swing and gets all the aggro out of her system, preferably venting it on House. This is presupposing that he’s able to keep Nolan and Lisa apart today, a manageable feat seeing that Nolan is as keen to avoid Lisa as he is. What House tells Lisa, should he be foolish enough to mention the matter to her, is a matter of indifference. His version trumps House's any day, and if all else fails, he can put it down to stress-related paranoia on House's part.
"Yeah, okay," he says to Nolan, who is still waiting for an answer. "No problem. Let me check first whether he's there." He pulls his cell phone out and flicks through his contacts. "Jeffrey? It's Lucas. Is House at the hospital today?" He listens for a moment. "Oh, okay. Let me know when they get back."
He turns to Nolan. "House and L ... Dr Cuddy are at a court hearing. Some medical malpractice suit against House." That explains the yelling yesterday. "Dr Cuddy's assistant told my contact that she'll be back at 4 pm, so he'll be back then, too. That gives us time to get in without being spotted by Dr Cuddy. We can wait for House in his office."
"Works for me," Nolan says, pulling into the PPTH parking lot.
House's fellows look at the two men waiting in House's office with undisguised curiosity.
"Who's the big dude with Cuddy's PI?" Chase wonders aloud.
"I don't like it that he's here again," is Thirteen's opinion.
"House should know. Does anyone know where House is?" Foreman asks.
Taub looks up from the message he's texting. "I met him in the lobby just after lunch. He said he had a court hearing this afternoon."
"If he volunteered that information, then he was lying," Foreman says.
"He was wearing a suit, a tie and an ironed shirt."
"You're kidding!" Chase says. Everyone contemplates Taub's information.
"That guy could be a cop," Foreman suggests.
"Makes sense," Thirteen agrees. "That Lucas fellow could have been snooping around and ratting on House to the cops just to make sure he has a monopoly on Cuddy."
Chase rises. "Then we definitely need to inform House. We don't want a replay of the Tritter affair, not if we can possibly avoid it."
"Tritter?" Taub asks.
"Don't even ask!"
Foreman takes charge. "Remy, Taub, you stay here and keep an eye on the PI and the big guy. We'll go down and catch hold of House in the lobby."
Down in the lobby, Foreman and Chase lounge casually against the lobby desk. "Do you think Cuddy knows what her lover-boy is up to?" Chase asks.
"No matter what House may have done, if her boy-toy has alerted the law and compromised the hospital, she'll have his balls for breakfast," Foreman opines with an air of satisfaction.
Chase squints through the clinic doors towards her office. "Maybe we should wise her up. ... The office is dark."
"Makes sense. She'll be at the hearing with House."
Chase frowns in sudden recognition. He nudges Foreman. "Isn't that the guy who attacked Lucas the other day? There, on the chair closest to Cuddy's office?"
Foreman turns to look. "Yeah. I thought I told him to keep away. I'll call security."
"No, wait!"
"What?"
"Lucas was relieved when we got rid of this kid for him. Perhaps we should find out why."
"Good point."
The blond boy is immersed in a motoring magazine. When Chase clears his throat the kid jumps, his eyes moving from Chase's and Foreman's legs up to the two faces looming over him.
"Didn't we tell you to stay away from here?" Foreman says coldly.
"It's ... I ... I want to talk to Dr Cuddy," the boy squeaks.
"About what?" Foreman asks.
"It's private."
"Then talk to us about it in the privacy of an examination room," Chase suggests.
"I'd rather wait for Dr Cuddy."
"Then we'd rather call security."
The lad looks at their implacable faces, gets up resignedly and follows them into Examination Room 3.
House enters his office jauntily, juggling cane and backpack with one hand while tearing off his tie with the other, but he stops short with his hand at his throat when he registers Nolan sitting in front of his desk and Lucas lounging in his Eames chair. He catches himself quickly, however, raising an eyebrow at Lucas as he makes for the comparative safety of the area behind his desk.
"What a surprise!" he says blandly, dropping the backpack and hooking the cane on a shelf. After sitting down he swings his feet provocatively onto his desk. "To what or whom do I owe the honour?"
"Hello Greg," Nolan says amiably. "I thought I'd drop in and see how you are doing."
"Peachy, as you can see, so don't let me keep you." He casts a quick glance at the conference room, but Taub is involved in an animated discussion with someone on his cell phone. the volume of his conversation drowning out whatever House and his guests discuss in his office.
Nolan turns to Lucas. "Mr Douglas, could you leave us alone for a moment?"
Lucas stands up with alacrity, but House waves a casual hand towards him. "He can stay. I doubt you'll say anything he doesn't know already." He sees no reason to pretend not to know Lucas, for although he has no idea what Lucas is playing at by coming here with Nolan, he feels that at this point it really doesn't matter any more. All these games, manipulations, moves and counter-moves - he's suddenly sick of them. "He blew his cover at the outset, so I know what he's up to. What I don't know is what you're up to. I'm pretty sure that setting a PI on former patients is not covered by any sort of psychiatric treatment plan."
Nolan frowns at Lucas, who shrugs unrepentantly. "I suck at stalking. People just seem to notice me," he explains.
Nolan turns back to House. "I want you back in therapy, Greg."
"I thought I made it clear that I'm not interested."
"You did, but continuing therapy was a pre-requisite for the board to re-issue your licence. Your employment here is dependent on your attending your therapy sessions."
House swings his feet down, his eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening me?"
"No. I'm just trying to point out the consequences of your actions." House snorts. "Greg, you needn't come back to Mayfield, but you do need to find a therapist whom you trust and whom you'd be prepared to work with, otherwise ..."
"Otherwise what? You'll spill the beans to the board? How long exactly do I need to continue treatment? One year? Two years? Ten years? Till death do us part? Who gets to decide I'm cured - the doctor who profits from my ongoing treatment? Great!"
Nolan sighs. "Greg, it's a long process, I can't deny that. But are you trying to make me believe that you don't have issues, serious issues, any more? Alcohol?"
"It's under control," House says tersely, his eyes on his sneakers.
"Vicodin?"
House's eyes flash up. "I didn't take any!"
"Okay. Would you agree to a drug screen?"
Bile rises in him. He's conceded that alcohol might be a problem - Nolan is astute enough to recognize a veiled confession when he hears one - but he's been clean for a year and he's never lied to Nolan, not consciously. "No. The hospital screens me regularly."
"And if Dr Cuddy insisted?"
House remains silent, but he can't suppress a wry grin. Cuddy is the only person who knows for certain that he didn't take the vicodin, having flushed it down the toilet herself. She'll be the last person to insist on an extra screen, especially if the impetus leading to its demand comes from Lucas.
"Okay," Nolan says in a tone that screams 'change of topic'. "What about your job?"
"What about it?" He's puzzled.
Nolan picks his words carefully. "You lost a patient in Trenton."
"It ... happens."
"You also had a major altercation with Dr Cuddy at the site..."
"We've had disputes on a daily basis since then. We thrive on constructive discussions - isn't that what they call these things nowadays?" House says flippantly.
"To the point that the hospital staff doesn't consider your dismissal an unlikely event," Nolan continues undeterred.
House turns to Lucas. "Let me guess - your source is that hulk in the lobby."
"Chase has a pool going on how much longer you'll last. People betting on time spans of less than a month aren't getting very good odds," Lucas says dourly.
Now that is amusing. More amusing than the Cuddy-Lucas pool.
"Greg, you don't seem to care about the precariousness of your situation," Nolan chides gently. "I'm obliged to inform Dr Cuddy that you've discontinued therapy. Given the present tension between you, the bother you're causing ..."
"Bother?" Again, he's genuinely puzzled. He's been really good lately.
"The court hearing today. A malpractice suit, I'm told."
" ... Ah, that. A mere trifle," House waves it away.
Nolan is silent for a moment, pondering on how to deal with pre-pubescent House. "I think you'd do well to cooperate. You like this job. It would be a pity if you lost it because you were annoyed with me. Justifiably annoyed, I'd like to add."
"Was that an apology? Oh, dandy!" House blows up his cheeks and lets the air out in little pops, considering whether aggravating Nolan any further makes any sense. "Suppose you have a patient and you take a blood sample." Nolan looks puzzled. "You send it to the lab and it comes back positive for everything from anaemia to zoster, do you grab the patient and pump him full of meds? No, you pounce on the lab technician who is plotting to kill the patient because he's thrown an eye on the patient's wife."
While Nolan looks confused at the metaphor, Lucas reacts instantly, strolling towards House's desk with barely masked aggression. "Nice metaphor, House, but she isn't your anything."
"Wait," Nolan says, "what's this? Mr Douglas ... Lucas Douglas. You're Dr Cuddy's Lucas? Oh no!"
"Yeah," Lucas says. "Should've mentioned it, I guess."
Disbelief, disgust and dismay chase across Nolan's face. "You didn't consider this a breach of confidence? The conflict of interests didn't bother you?"
"You mean, like breaking the Hippocratic oath or violating patient confidentiality? Nah, I'm just a common sleuth, we don't have highbrow stuff like codes of conduct." Nolan looks anything but placated. "Hey, He's the guy who paid me to snoop around his best friend and his employees. He kinda had it coming!"
"Mr Douglas, this throws doubts on the reliability of your information. Besides, has it occurred to you that observing one of Dr Cuddy's employees for a third party might put a strain on your relationship? Dr House is under no obligation to keep this from Dr Cuddy."
"Oh, not to worry," House says airily. "Their involvement is history. Ask him," he adds as Nolan musters him doubtfully.
"I may be on the bench at the moment, but that doesn't mean that you'll be allowed out on the field. Lisa is on the verge of losing her child to a juristic formality and she's under fire from the board. She isn't going to jeopardize kid or job for the sake of a miserable junkie who hates the kid and jerks her around at work!" Lucas is practically spitting with anger.
"Touché. But marrying a top-notch diagnostician who can ..."
"Marrying? Are you dreaming, House? She's been yelling non-stop at you since Trenton - there's no way she'll touch you with a ten-foot pole, let alone marry you."
"Hate to wake you from your sweet dreams, but she's done so already. One hour ago, to be exact." It wasn't his intention to shoot his mouth off before Cuddy has had time to inform the board, but Lucas's condescension gets to him in a way he hadn't anticipated. Lucas's reaction admittedly isn't quite what he envisaged (or has fantasized about, to be honest, ever since it struck him that Lucas would have to be informed and that he might be the lucky one to do it). Instead of going for House's throat, as House more than half expects, Lucas freezes where he is, giving Nolan a helpless, dismayed look.
"Look," he stammers, "I'm sorry ... I should've ...There was no sign of any more vicodin ... If I'd thought he was losing it, I would have contacted you."
Nolan stands up slowly. "Greg, do you have any proof of what you just said?"
"Cuddy's got the paperwork." Nolan looks pointedly at his left hand. "We didn't have time to get rings."
"I see," Nolan says, his expression grave. He turns towards Lucas. "Will you please ask Dr Cuddy to come here? Discreetly!"
Lucas draws a shaking hand through his hair. "I ... jeez ... sure. God, I'm sorry, House." Is that compassion in the schmuck's gaze?
"I am not hallucinating!" House yells. Thirteen looks over from the conference room.
"Go, please," Nolan nods to Lucas, who takes off. "Greg, three weeks ago you were in my office telling me that Dr Cuddy and her boyfriend were moving in together. Today you insist that you and Dr Cuddy are married. How likely does that sound..."
He trails off at the rumpus out on the corridor. A wildly gesticulating Taub is blocking Lucas's way, mirroring his movements as the PI tries to sidestep him to get to the elevator. Ignoring Nolan, House steps out into the corridor and wolf-whistles loudly.
"What's up?" he asks as soon as he has their attention.
"The little snitch has been spying on me for Cuddy," Taub rants, his habitual phlegm giving way to an eruption of epic proportions.
"I didn't ..," Lucas begins, but Taub cuts him off.
"Oh, yes, you did! Because Cuddy told my wife that I'm cheating on her, and how else would she know, huh?" And Taub jumps at Lucas, seizing him by the shirt and slamming him against the wall.
"Damn!" House hobbles forward, but before he can reach the pair, Lucas takes a swing at Taub, who topples backwards holding his nose. When House reaches him, he pulls Taub's hand off to inspect the damage. Then he turns to Lucas.
"I have no idea what he's talking about," Lucas says. holding up both hands defensively.
Thirteen, who came out of the conference room when Lucas hit Taub, now puts a supportive arm around Taub. "What happened?" she asks.
"Wachel phoned," Taub says indistinctly.
"Into the conference room, all of you!" House orders. "You," he points at Lucas, "don't go anywhere until all this is cleared up. Thirteen, see to Taub's nose. Where the hell are Foreman and Chase?"
"You didn't see them when you came in?" Thirteen asks.
"Obviously not!" House barks. "Taub, nose, ice!" He holds open the door to the conference room and shoos Thirteen, Taub and Lucas in. Then he takes a deep breath; Taub's marital problems are extremely inconvenient to put it mildly, because what he really needs to do is get rid of Nolan, take Lucas down a notch and explain to Cuddy why the whole hospital is going to be trooping by to felicitate her when she'd expressly asked him to lie low until after the next board meeting. If he dared leave Lucas and Taub here, he'd take Nolan to Cuddy to confirm his story and then get rid of him, but he supposes he'll have to find out first what Taub is on about.
He's spared dealing with the logistics of the chaos that Lucas has caused in his department by the arrival of the elevator whose doors open to reveal Cuddy. He observes her with his head tipped slightly as she marches towards him, enjoying the sway of her hips even as he registers the tenseness of her expression. Is that a trace of guilt in her face?
"House, I messed up."
"I know - I was there. You said, 'Yes, I do'."
She rolls her eyes. "Be serious for a moment. Taub's wife phoned to whine at me because of his 'long working hours' and I was indiscreet:"
"Ah, that would explain it, I suppose." House nods at Taub sitting at the conference table holding an ice-pack to his nose.
"Oh goodness, she was quick! I only just finished talking to her!"
"It wasn't Rachel Taub, it was your boy-toy."
Cuddy only now spots Lucas sitting in a corner of the room cradling his hand. "Oh, no! What's he doing here?"
"Long story. What did you say to Rachel?"
Cuddy gawps unhappily at Lucas while processing House's question. "She went on about how Taub has to work till midnight every day, so finally I lost my temper and told her that yesterday for instance Taub left the hospital well before midnight in the company of, ummm, one of our nurses. Why the hell was she ranting at me instead of you, anyway?"
"She likes me," House says, pursing his lips thoughtfully as he musters Taub.
"Can you fix it?" Cuddy asks hopefully.
"What makes you think I want to fix it?" House retorts, frowning down at her.
"You've been covering for him - she said something about both of you doing pottery classes together - ...."
"Ceramics," House corrects absently.
"... which you'd hardly have told her to enable his adultery, so you must have cooked up that story to protect her."
"Why shouldn't I have been enabling Taub?"
"You jerk people around, but you don't enable them," Cuddy says confidently.
Her confidence in his ability to fix things is heart-warming, but .... "Cuddy, there's no way I can fix this. But don't get your panties all in a twist - this isn't your fault."
"Not my fault when I blabbed my mouth off?" She gives him an incredulous frown.
"Your capacity for guilt is infinite, but no. I'd say he is to blame for cheating on Rachel unless you were the person Taub took off with yesterday. Then it would be a matter for debate, for who could resist those fun-bags?"
He leers at her while she rolls her eyes in exasperation, but she's smiling faintly. He's satisfied at having assuaged her guilt a little. When Nolan clears his throat behind them, House, who has forgotten about him, turns around startled. "Ah, Cuddy, this is my ex-shrink, Dr Nolan. Dr Nolan, Dr Cuddy."
"Dr Nolan!" Cuddy extends a hand. "Pleased to meet you." She pauses uncertainly. "Is there a problem? Hang on," she says, turning to House. "Ex-shrink?"
"You have an ex-fiancé, I have an ex-shrink. Equal rights, you know."
"Perhaps we could move into Greg's office," Nolan suggests. "Dr Cuddy, Greg has chosen to discontinue out-patient treatment at Mayfield," Nolan continues once they are in the relative privacy of House's office, with Cuddy seated in House's chair and House leaning against the wall. Nolan takes his previous seat opposite Cuddy. "While we were discussing alternatives," House harrumphs and Nolan ignores him, "Greg happened to mention that he and you were married. Could you confirm that, please?"
Cuddy favours House with the sort of glare that nails lesser mortals to the wall behind them. House fidgets slightly and decides that his sneakers deserve a thorough visual going-over. It's odd, but it was a lot easier to stand on the gallery and shout out to the whole hospital that he'd done Cuddy (even if he hadn't, but he hadn't known that) than admitting to matrimony. Sex is cool, being chained down isn't, he figures. He's uncomfortably aware that now that Taub's face is wrapped in an icepack instead of stuck to his phone, the people congregated in the conference room can listen in on the louder parts of their conversation.
"I see," says Nolan into the silence. "I'm afraid he wasn't trying to embarrass you. He genuinely believes ..." He breaks off at both their stares, but then plods on determinedly. "A drug screen should be done so that I can see what we're dealing with. Meanwhile I'll organize a room in Mayfield for the detox, if Greg is willing. I hope you're okay with that, Dr Cuddy."
"Yes ... I mean ...no!" Cuddy says, dazed.
"Cuddy, could you say something sensible please, before I'm carted away in a straight-jacket and Lucas does a victory dance on my conference table?" House presses out from between clenched teeth.
Lucas is indeed grinning like the Cheshire Cat, all compassion for House having been blown away at the intimacy of the interaction he witnessed between House and Cuddy earlier on. Taub and Thirteen are trying their best to look as though they can't hear a word of what is going on in House's office, but are failing miserably.
Cuddy stands up. "House and I are married," she states clearly, looking Nolan in the eye. She then strides past House into the conference room. "If any of this leaves this room, I'll fire you!"
"I don't think you can," House says just to be contrary. "Technically, only I can fire them."
"Ahem, I don't think we'll test that," Taub says.
"I'm sorry," Cuddy says to Lucas.
"'I'm sorry!'" House mimics, grimacing.
"Shut up, House! He shouldn't have found out like this."
House considers pointing out that he didn't fare much better a few months earlier, but decides to let it go when Thirteen gives him a brisk hug, saying, "I'm really, really happy for you." It happens so quickly that he has no time to wisecrack. Taub follows, proffering his hand. "Felicitations," he says indistinctly..
"What, even though my wife just tattled to your wife?"
"How the hell did Cuddy find out?" Taub asks furtively.
"The Evil One's eye is everywhere," House intones. He glances over at Cuddy, who is sitting next to Lucas, talking earnestly to him. Lucas is shocked into silence for once; he looks confused, like a child abandoned in a mall in the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping. He's wondering whether to disturb their tête-a-tête when Foreman and Chase appear in the corridor waving to him.
House pokes his head out. "What's up?"
"We've got someone for you," Chase says, nodding towards the boy they are flanking.
"Patient? Where's the file? Doesn't look interesting." The boy looks healthy enough, though perhaps a trifle pale. There aren't any interesting fluids spouting out of his orifices, nor does he show signs of seizing or other unusual activities. "What's his problem?"
"He says he's the father of Cuddy's kid."
"Ah," House says with a quick glance into the conference room where Cuddy is still dealing with a distraught Lucas. His inclination is to magic Simon away to some remote corner of the hospital, the morgue for instance, and instil the fear of the Lord in the lad.
Foreman seems to divine his intentions. "Dr Cuddy might be interested in hearing what he has to tell about her boy-friend."
Ah, yes, Foreman isn't in the picture as yet, but what he says corresponds to a suspicion that House has been nourishing.
"In we go then," House says with false cheer, pulling open the door to the conference room. "Sorry, Dr Nolan, but it's a busy day, as you can see. So, Steven, ..."
"Simon," the boy mutters glancing at Cuddy and then, with astonishment, at Lucas.
"Steven, Simon, whatever. What brings you here?"
When Simon remains silent Foreman says, "He's got an interesting story. He says he got a phone call about a week ago from someone who advised him that if he didn't want to forfeit all rights as a father, he should challenge the adoption."
Simon rakes his fingers through his hair. "Yeah. Before that I didn't even know I could do anything about it. No one told me that I have can have rights even though Natalie never named me officially as the father. My parents ... they wanted to protect me I guess. They don't want me to be burdened with a child at my age. They say it wasn't my fault."
"No," House says with heavy sarcasm, "it wasn't your dick up her ..."
"House, hush," Cuddy admonishes. Returning her attention to Simon she asks,"You were put up to this?" He nods.
"Greg?" Nolan asks sternly.
House wonders how he ever trusted the man. "Does that sound like me?" he asks with a faux-innocent expression.
"It does," Cuddy says briskly. "You'd do it without any compunction if it promised the slightest benefit to one of your schemes." Something clamps itself around House's heart and gives it a nasty squeeze.
"Uh, Dr Cuddy," Chase interrupts, "it wasn't House."
"I know."
The something around his heart relaxes slightly. "Thank you," House says, keeping his voice neutral with an effort.
Cuddy, however, isn't paying much attention to him anyway. She hones in on Lucas, all compassion for him wiped off her face. "You bastard! Was this your revenge on me for breaking up with you?"
Lucas puts up his hands as though to placate her. "No, no! Look, you've got it all wrong. You've misunderstood the situation."
"I have? Why would you want me to lose my daughter if not to get back at me?"
"You weren't meant to ... he wasn't supposed to sue for custody. I never told him he should do that!"
"No, my lawyer figured that one out - once I got myself a lawyer," Simon confirms.
"And what was he supposed to do?" House probes.
"I thought that if he contested the adoption, Lisa would realize that she needs me, y'know, just in case. But there would have been no harm done."
"No harm done?" Cuddy's voice rises a dangerous octave.
"You'd still be the foster mom, just like now. No change there. I mean, who cares about a piece of paper - she'd still be your daughter even if he's officially the father. So long as you have custody of Rachel, who cares?" He looks around at the faces looming around him. "Hell, how was I supposed to know he'd apply for custody too? Seriously, what eighteen-year-old wants a kid?"
"The kid's father, maybe," Taub says to no one in particular. Everyone else is staring at Lucas with varying degrees of disbelief and disgust.
Nolan is the first to find his tongue. "Mr Douglas, do you mean to say that you informed the father of Dr Cuddy's child of the possibility of contesting the impending adoption in the hope that the ensuing legal action would persuade Dr Cuddy to resume her relationship with you? You did this knowing that if it came to a custody battle this might well cost Dr Cuddy her child?"
When he puts it this way, it sounds odd indeed.
"You didn't stop to consider that this would affect any sort of rapport that you might manage to establish with Dr Cuddy?"
It sounds more than odd; it's downright stupid. Yet if loving Cuddy has turned his brain into slush, can one blame Lucas for it? She has much the same effect on him. House notices Cuddy stirring out of the corner of his eye.
"Nolan, take Lucas and your impromptu therapy session somewhere else. Cuddy turns into a veritable she-wolf when her man-child is threatened." He pulls Lucas up unceremoniously and shoves him towards the door.
"We still need to talk, Greg," Nolan objects.
"Not today. Look, you brought this joker here - you get him out of here, preferably before Cuddy wakes from her catatonic state."
He watches them leave before he turns back to the others. "I'm glad we're rid of them," he says conversationally. "In a moment Nolan would have been asking really stupid questions, like, 'How do you feel about the situation?' or 'Do you think this worked for you?'" As he speaks he moves casually over to Cuddy and places his hands on her shoulder, unobtrusively using his thumbs to knead the muscles running along the base of her neck. He continues until he feels her relax gradually and lean into his touch.
Simon shifts uneasily in his corner.
"You," House says, "can sue for custody. We won't stop you. Dr Cuddy is dean of a renowned hospital. I am head of Diagnostics. Did I mention that we're married? We are medically qualified and financially equipped to deal with - what's the pc term for retards? - oh, a challenged child, right?"
Cuddy stiffens. "There's no sign that she's mentally ...."
"Relax!" He fixes Simon with a glare. "You, on the other hand, are ignorant of basic health concepts such as contraception or safer sex, while your favoured method of consolidating your finances is selling booze and drugs to minors. Contest the adoption for all I care." Cuddy gives a gasp of protest, so he tightens his grip on her shoulder. "A child has a right to know who its father is and that he cares ... even if he does so in a screwed-up way. But before you apply for custody, take a moment to consider whether a private agreement between Dr Cuddy and you regarding visiting rights wouldn't be more generous to you than what a judge will award you once he hears about your past track record." He leans forward and gives Simon a conspiratorial wink. "She's a real soft touch," he says in a stage whisper.
Simon is visibly intimidated. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now, scram! Taub, see him out." As an afterthought he adds, "You can have the rest of the day off."
Once Simon is out of earshot, Cuddy turns on House. "She's not a retard!"
"Who cares? Do you want him scared off or not? Good." He scratches his chin thoughtfully, looking around at his remaining fellows. Foreman and Chase are looking gob-smacked, while Thirteen smiles knowingly. "Let's give the children a chance to gossip while we pay a visit to HR, shall we?"
"HR - oh dear!" Cuddy says. "You couldn't keep your big trap shut, could you?"
House propels her to the door. "We'd need to go there irrespective of my propensity to spread the gospel. I'm sure there's some hospital directive or other specifying that one needs to inform them of changes in one's family status within a certain time span. Wilson would know - he's done it often enough," he adds meditatively as they pass his office.
"Wilson," she says as they wait in front of the elevator. "Does he know yet?"
House's reply is submerged in Cuddy's stifled shriek as he gropes her rear.
When House returns from HR, Wilson is consulting with a patient. House briefly considers barging in on him, but he discards the notion as quickly as the one of waiting in his own office until Wilson can't contain his curiosity any more. So he goes out onto his balcony, chucks a few stones at Wilson's balcony door to indicate his willingness to talk and then leans on the parapet to wait for his friend.
Wilson lets him wait for fifteen minutes, which means that someone from the team (House thinks that it was probably Thirteen) has informed Wilson of the revelations of the past hour. When Wilson finally comes outside, he's exuding a mixture of hurt, concern and worry. He reminds House of parents who bring their teen kids to the hospital mouthing platitudes such as, 'We don't control our child. We have full confidence in his ability to make the right decisions,' and are then completely gob-smacked when it turns out that their kid is drinking, taking drugs and having unprotected sex. What the hell did Wilson expect when he threw him out of his condo: that he'd check every personal decision with him, ask his permission to date? In righteous irritation he flicks a tissue wad at the gardener fertilizing the lawn below.
Wilson leans on the parapet on his side of the balcony and they both watch the missile's arc through the air down three floors until it hits the lawn yards away from its target. House grimaces.
"You heard," he says.
"Your little ones bounced into my office asking what daddy's been up to..."
"Hmmmm."
"... a question I couldn't answer because I know less than nothing about it."
"Gosh darn it, Wilson, you've done it three times; surely you can explain the basic procedure to my minions! Get a licence, say 'yes' in front of a judge and the dire deed is done."
"House!" Wilson shakes his head in exasperation. "This is radical, even by your standards."
"You were always at me to hit on Cuddy, to get involved in a 'serious relationship'." He paints quotation marks in the air.
"Yes, but matrimony! How long have you been dating Cuddy?"
'Dating' probably isn't the right word, but House doesn't exactly want to share the details of the past days with Wilson. "Ten days, give or take."
"And she was gone for five of those," Wilson sums up. "You don't think that's jumping the gun?"
"You've been known to marry women you'd dated for less than three months," House grumbles.
"Ten days isn't three months."
"Christ, Wilson, I've known Cuddy for over twenty years. She's not a whisky, mellowing with every additional year. It's all downhill from here: crow's feet, sagging boobs, cellulitis ..." He gives a mock shudder. "Definitely a need for haste."
"You're deflecting."
"It's no big deal," House mutters.
"It's a lifetime commitment!"
House refrains from pointing out that Wilson has currently run up three of those 'once-in-a-lifetime' commitments.
"If you're so casual about it," Wilson continues, "how come you didn't marry Stacy? Judging by how quickly she married Mark, she wouldn't have been unwilling."
House shrugs. "There was no need. If there had been, I'd have made an honest woman of her."
"The story your team told me - something about custody for Rachel - explains why Cuddy needs to marry, but not why you would agree to do so."
"You think I'm too self-serving to do something that benefits Cuddy mostly."
"I think you are too self-serving to do something that doesn't benefit you at all. You've always resented Rachel, you don't like sharing Cuddy and you don't want to be father."
"You assume that, based on my personal preferences, I'd embark on a course of action designed to cause maximum misery all round?"
"No, that's not what I ... I didn't ... oh, forget it!"
"My shrink says I should formulate positively: I like Cuddy's bod, I like getting laid, and I'd like to get laid even after the court hearing on Rachel's adoption. So I've tried to ensure that nothing gets in the way of Cuddy being happy enough to jump me regularly and enthusiastically."
"Your methods are a bit drastic and, frankly, unnecessary. Chase says the biological father isn't too enthused at the idea of raising a special-needs kid and that it took you three minutes to reduce him to a gibbering mess."
"Could be," House says non-committally. "Cuddy was on a guilt trip - saw herself as the wicked stepmother taking the child away from its rightful father - so it escaped her notice that she's dealing with an irresponsible bastard who mobbed the girl he was screwing and ignored his kid for eighteen months. That's not even mentioning the booze and drug racket he had going at his high school. Then again, being with Lucas might have clouded Cuddy's view of what one can reasonably expect from guys."
"And you didn't see fit to set her right about the boy before you tied the knot? ... You know what I think?"
House doesn't want to know, but he supposes he'll have to grin and bear it.
"I think you want to tie Cuddy down, make sure she doesn't leave you the way Stacy did, the way she left Lucas. You have an issue with abandonment."
"Your logic is faulty. My relationship with Stacy, although not graced with a ring, lasted a darn sight longer than any of your marriages. It follows that the best way to sabotage a relationship is to get married."
"Fine. You're not tying her down with a piece of paper - you're binding her with the chain of gratitude. Now she's obliged to you, so she can't up and leave you."
House taps the balustrade rhythmically. "What should I have done, in your opinion?"
"What normal people do: date her for some time, move in with her, see how things go, especially with you and Rachel, and then ..."
"Hmmm. And what happens if it doesn't work?"
"Huh? I thought you're so convinced it will work that ..."
"I thought we're talking our way through an alternate scenario because you're convinced it won't work. So tell me what happens then!"
"Well," Wilson says in measured tones, "much the same as when you're married and it doesn't work, but with a lot less hassle and unpleasantness. No alimony either, but since she'd be paying you, I guess that argument doesn't apply."
"I move back into my apartment?"
"Yeah."
"She nags me about clinic hours and I make crude comments about her ass."
"Well, yes."
"This utopian vision can only come from a guy who takes his ex-wives out to dinner on their divorce anniversary. Weren't you bridesmaid when Bonnie married that insurance fellow last fall?" House scoffs.
"No ... I ... she doesn't have any male relatives so I gave her away. In loco parentis, you know," Wilson says unhappily.
"Father of the bride. That's perverted, somehow," House muses.
"Stop skirting the issue. What are you getting at, House?"
"Cuddy and I have been flirting for years. Have you never wondered why we didn't just do the nasty and then waited to see where it would go?"
"I have been wondering for years! In case you didn't notice, I've been asking you for years, but you never deigned to give me a coherent reply."
"I don't do nice. I don't do nice split-ups, with or without divorce thrown into the mix. When ... if Cuddy and I break up, it'll be the kind of nuclear cataclysm that starts off at sub-atomic level, but ends up laying waste to entire continents." He rubs his thumb over his eyebrows and sighs. He doesn't want to go into all this, sketching scenarios that are best left in the depths of his subconscious where all they can do is worry him regularly in the form of nightmares. But Wilson is unbelievably naive about relationships. "If we'd got together and then split up, I would have behaved in a manner that would have left Cuddy with little choice but to fire me. Given my reputation and my well-known addiction, I'd never have landed another job. I knew it, Cuddy knew it, so we both let well alone."
"So what's changed?"
"I have. I've been clean for a year, lawsuits are down. If I had to get a new job, I could."
"So ... that's good. But it doesn't explain the shotgun wedding."
"Oh, you're too sharp for me - nothing escapes your razor-like powers of observation." House waggles a finger at Wilson. Then he's serious again. "Cuddy's situation has changed, too. If I go, she stands to lose her job."
"What? The board would be glad to be rid of you!"
"Don't kid yourself. Cuddy's spent years selling me as an asset to the board until they actually believed her fairy tale. Now that I'm halfway presentable, they'd be pretty pissed off if the dean had to fire a department head because their screwing got out of hand. Her rep has suffered over that Atlantic Net deal ..."
"She got what she wanted."
"She gambled, and the board knew it. They don't like gambling, no matter how successful. They don't care whether we get eight percent or twelve percent because they don't have to explain salary cuts to irate staff or turn away patients because we have to cut down on beds. Plus, donations are down by thirty percent."
Wilson looks surprised. House shrugs. "That's what happens when the dean runs home at six to coddle her cabbage-patch kid instead of flashing her boobs at donors over dinner. Unlike me, Cuddy will find it difficult to land a new job."
"Oh, come along, she's good!"
"How many hospitals need new deans? And how many of those take deans with a medical degree instead of a management degree? As for practising medicine, she hasn't been a real doctor in years - she'd have to start from scratch, her reputation in shreds, her income decimated, everything she's achieved washed down the drain."
"Wait, so you're agreeable to a relationship now, because it would ruin her instead of you, and to compensate for your egotism you're putting a ring on her finger."
"I love how you manage to verbalize my virtues," House quips.
"I'm not buying this," Wilson says abruptly. "Cuddy isn't a romantic teen who can be duped with a ring."
"Oh, don't be a moron. I'm not duping her. I'm trying to make the situation more acceptable. If it were just for the kid and that damn chromosome donor of hers, I wouldn't have bothered, but matrimony certainly won't harm Cuddy's case in court. Here in the hospital, however, Cuddy's situation will become pretty untenable when people find out that the dean is doing her diagnostician, which they will once her private life is spread out in a court hearing. It sounds much better to say that she's fulfilling her marital duties. Unfortunately, Cuddy is much too proud to legalize me just to save her own skin."
"So ... you pushed a bit."
House considers the gardener below him. The tissue wad would need to be heavier to have enough impetus to cover the horizontal distance between them - a few small stones, perhaps ... He can feel Wilson's eyes on him, dissecting him as he picks up a few stones to weigh down the next tissue.
"You ...euwww, House what are you doing?"
"Chewing on the tissue. How else'm I supposed to make a decent wad out of it?" House says indistinctly.
"Do you think that bugging the rest of Cuddy's staff is conducive to getting laid today?"
House waves Wilson's objections aside. "Minor ripples that barely disturb the surface of the deep pool that she inhabits."
"If you don't watch out she'll shoot out her tentacles and pull you into the deep."
House considers this metaphor. He'd rather like to be entwined in Cuddy's coils and be pulled down into her lair where she'd have her wicked way with him. He smiles faintly at the direction his thoughts are taking.
"It's really hit you badly, hasn't it?" Wilson says. "Love," he clarifies, just in case House doesn't get his meaning.
The way Wilson says it makes it sound like a Good Thing. A bit goofy, but good.
Wilson is an idiot.
Love is never a good thing. It isn't any of the stuff Wilson thinks of when he takes the word in his mouth: regular sex, someone to come home to in the evenings, someone to talk to and share confidences with. Those can be perks, but they have nothing to do with the underlying emotion.
Love is not letting your mother know what her husband is doing to you in her absence, because destroying the illusion that she's built around her life would hurt her more than the guy you used to call father can hurt you.
Love is sending the woman you want back to her husband, because you know you'll never trust her or open up to her again the way she deserves, the way her husband is prepared to do.
Love is accepting that your friend carries out his neediness issues at your expense, turning his back on you whenever he needs affirmation from some third party that he's supportive, caring and sweet.
Love is protecting the kid you've unfortunately got yourself involved with via its mother from the neighbourhood bully, knowing all the while that each time you instil the fear of God in one pesky brat, there'll be ten others waiting in line to terrorize your kid the moment your back is turned.
"Gotta go," Wilson says. "My next patient's waiting. Try shooting the wad with a rubber band," he suggests as he leaves. He'd do well as head of a terror organisation, sending out suicide bombers, but never getting into the line of fire himself.
Love is pretending that you believe that cooked up story about your team drugging your friend, not even hinting at what you found when you hacked your friend's browser history this morning while he was doing his rounds, because if he knew that you know it would be the end of your friendship. You'll have to practice severe self-restraint, behaving as though nothing has changed. ...
Love is exacting dire retribution on your fellows for humiliating your friend so bitterly.
On that cheering thought House accurately fires the tissue lump at the gardener's head and disappears back into into his office to plan his revenge.
The End
My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.
Olivia:
If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear
As howling after music.
Duke Orsino:
Still so cruel?
Olivia:
Still so constant, lord.
[Twelfth Night, Act 5 Scene 1]
May 28, 2010: Day 12
(Ten days after the crane disaster in Trenton)
3 pm
Lucas walks up to the car parked at the curb and taps on the passenger window. Dr Nolan looks up from his journal, and then he leans sideways to open the door.
"Mr Douglas, I'm glad you could make it at such short notice."
"No problem," Lucas says, sliding into the passenger seat, "but why are we meeting in Princeton?" He's uneasy about this - it's a break in the pattern, so to say.
"I was in the area, so I thought I could kill a few birds with one stone. Do you have an hour or so for me?"
"Sure," Lucas says, shrugging, "though I honestly haven't got that much of a scoop for you. I gotta tell you that you're wasting your money. This case isn't worth the expenditure." That's the truth, for one thing. For another, he's come to the conclusion that he'd better get rid of this client before everything blows up in his face. The fracas with Simon Finchley on the PPTH parking lot convinced him that he's bitten off more than he can chew. Sooner or later someone (read: Lisa) is going to find out something that he'd rather not have her know if he doesn't manage to keep all the threads that he's weaving into his tapestry disentangled from each other.
"Not worth the cash I'm laying out or not worth the time you're investing?" Nolan enquires as he pulls away from the curb.
"Both," Lucas answers tersely. "Look, how you waste your money is none of my business ... where are we going?"
"I thought I'd visit the scene of the crime, make sure that Greg really is as fine as you say, meet some of the secondary characters and then hopefully close the case," Nolan says easily.
Lucas twists his head to look at Nolan. "You wanna go to PPTH? Yeah, well, you don't need me for that, I guess. You can just drop me off at the corner." He can't hide his unease at this turn of events, although he is very aware that Nolan is observing him as far as traffic will permit.
Nolan is remorseless. "Your presence would be helpful. Protocol dictates that as head of a similar institution I clear my impending visit with the dean. Patient confidentiality, however, forbids such a course of action. Furthermore, Dr House wouldn't appreciate it if I accosted him in front of colleagues and subordinates. I'd therefore prefer a meeting in the privacy of his office with no onlookers. All this means that I need someone familiar with the layout of the place to get me inside and to Dr House's office as discreetly as possible."
Lucas considers the pros and cons of agreeing to Nolan's request. If they meet House, Nolan will find out that he's been double-dealing. Unfortunately, this seems inevitable regardless of whether he accompanies Nolan or not; even if Nolan meets up with House by himself, there is no guarantee that House won't mention what Lucas has been up to. Correction: there is every likelihood that House won't lose a moment in filling Nolan in on Lucas's connection to PPTH. He's bound to lose Nolan as a client - okay, he's written him off anyway - and all outstanding payments to boot, but there's a slim chance that he'll be able to control the damage somehow.
All efforts must be bundled to shield Lisa from what has been going on in her absence. If he gets to her before House or his shrink do, he can sell the whole arrangement to her as an act of charity towards her poor friend House, who was falling apart so pitifully in her absence that anyone concerned for his well-being (and by extension for hers as his long-suffering boss) just had to step in and inform his therapist. Compassion with House will go down well with Lisa; she'll always have a soft spot for him. Though, if his source at the hospital can be believed, not soft enough to prevent another bout of yelling yesterday morning which apparently ended with Lisa throwing House bodily out of her office and snapping at everyone within sight the rest of the morning. Seems the day before House amused himself by drugging Wilson and then leaving his team alone with an undiagnosed patient, so that Lisa had to come in straight from Pittsburgh to set things aright. What a cretin! (House, not Lisa.)
All things considered, it isn't all that unlikely that although he, Lucas, has temporarily fallen from grace, he will be reinstated as soon as Lisa recovers from her menopausal mood swing and gets all the aggro out of her system, preferably venting it on House. This is presupposing that he’s able to keep Nolan and Lisa apart today, a manageable feat seeing that Nolan is as keen to avoid Lisa as he is. What House tells Lisa, should he be foolish enough to mention the matter to her, is a matter of indifference. His version trumps House's any day, and if all else fails, he can put it down to stress-related paranoia on House's part.
"Yeah, okay," he says to Nolan, who is still waiting for an answer. "No problem. Let me check first whether he's there." He pulls his cell phone out and flicks through his contacts. "Jeffrey? It's Lucas. Is House at the hospital today?" He listens for a moment. "Oh, okay. Let me know when they get back."
He turns to Nolan. "House and L ... Dr Cuddy are at a court hearing. Some medical malpractice suit against House." That explains the yelling yesterday. "Dr Cuddy's assistant told my contact that she'll be back at 4 pm, so he'll be back then, too. That gives us time to get in without being spotted by Dr Cuddy. We can wait for House in his office."
"Works for me," Nolan says, pulling into the PPTH parking lot.
House's fellows look at the two men waiting in House's office with undisguised curiosity.
"Who's the big dude with Cuddy's PI?" Chase wonders aloud.
"I don't like it that he's here again," is Thirteen's opinion.
"House should know. Does anyone know where House is?" Foreman asks.
Taub looks up from the message he's texting. "I met him in the lobby just after lunch. He said he had a court hearing this afternoon."
"If he volunteered that information, then he was lying," Foreman says.
"He was wearing a suit, a tie and an ironed shirt."
"You're kidding!" Chase says. Everyone contemplates Taub's information.
"That guy could be a cop," Foreman suggests.
"Makes sense," Thirteen agrees. "That Lucas fellow could have been snooping around and ratting on House to the cops just to make sure he has a monopoly on Cuddy."
Chase rises. "Then we definitely need to inform House. We don't want a replay of the Tritter affair, not if we can possibly avoid it."
"Tritter?" Taub asks.
"Don't even ask!"
Foreman takes charge. "Remy, Taub, you stay here and keep an eye on the PI and the big guy. We'll go down and catch hold of House in the lobby."
Down in the lobby, Foreman and Chase lounge casually against the lobby desk. "Do you think Cuddy knows what her lover-boy is up to?" Chase asks.
"No matter what House may have done, if her boy-toy has alerted the law and compromised the hospital, she'll have his balls for breakfast," Foreman opines with an air of satisfaction.
Chase squints through the clinic doors towards her office. "Maybe we should wise her up. ... The office is dark."
"Makes sense. She'll be at the hearing with House."
Chase frowns in sudden recognition. He nudges Foreman. "Isn't that the guy who attacked Lucas the other day? There, on the chair closest to Cuddy's office?"
Foreman turns to look. "Yeah. I thought I told him to keep away. I'll call security."
"No, wait!"
"What?"
"Lucas was relieved when we got rid of this kid for him. Perhaps we should find out why."
"Good point."
The blond boy is immersed in a motoring magazine. When Chase clears his throat the kid jumps, his eyes moving from Chase's and Foreman's legs up to the two faces looming over him.
"Didn't we tell you to stay away from here?" Foreman says coldly.
"It's ... I ... I want to talk to Dr Cuddy," the boy squeaks.
"About what?" Foreman asks.
"It's private."
"Then talk to us about it in the privacy of an examination room," Chase suggests.
"I'd rather wait for Dr Cuddy."
"Then we'd rather call security."
The lad looks at their implacable faces, gets up resignedly and follows them into Examination Room 3.
House enters his office jauntily, juggling cane and backpack with one hand while tearing off his tie with the other, but he stops short with his hand at his throat when he registers Nolan sitting in front of his desk and Lucas lounging in his Eames chair. He catches himself quickly, however, raising an eyebrow at Lucas as he makes for the comparative safety of the area behind his desk.
"What a surprise!" he says blandly, dropping the backpack and hooking the cane on a shelf. After sitting down he swings his feet provocatively onto his desk. "To what or whom do I owe the honour?"
"Hello Greg," Nolan says amiably. "I thought I'd drop in and see how you are doing."
"Peachy, as you can see, so don't let me keep you." He casts a quick glance at the conference room, but Taub is involved in an animated discussion with someone on his cell phone. the volume of his conversation drowning out whatever House and his guests discuss in his office.
Nolan turns to Lucas. "Mr Douglas, could you leave us alone for a moment?"
Lucas stands up with alacrity, but House waves a casual hand towards him. "He can stay. I doubt you'll say anything he doesn't know already." He sees no reason to pretend not to know Lucas, for although he has no idea what Lucas is playing at by coming here with Nolan, he feels that at this point it really doesn't matter any more. All these games, manipulations, moves and counter-moves - he's suddenly sick of them. "He blew his cover at the outset, so I know what he's up to. What I don't know is what you're up to. I'm pretty sure that setting a PI on former patients is not covered by any sort of psychiatric treatment plan."
Nolan frowns at Lucas, who shrugs unrepentantly. "I suck at stalking. People just seem to notice me," he explains.
Nolan turns back to House. "I want you back in therapy, Greg."
"I thought I made it clear that I'm not interested."
"You did, but continuing therapy was a pre-requisite for the board to re-issue your licence. Your employment here is dependent on your attending your therapy sessions."
House swings his feet down, his eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening me?"
"No. I'm just trying to point out the consequences of your actions." House snorts. "Greg, you needn't come back to Mayfield, but you do need to find a therapist whom you trust and whom you'd be prepared to work with, otherwise ..."
"Otherwise what? You'll spill the beans to the board? How long exactly do I need to continue treatment? One year? Two years? Ten years? Till death do us part? Who gets to decide I'm cured - the doctor who profits from my ongoing treatment? Great!"
Nolan sighs. "Greg, it's a long process, I can't deny that. But are you trying to make me believe that you don't have issues, serious issues, any more? Alcohol?"
"It's under control," House says tersely, his eyes on his sneakers.
"Vicodin?"
House's eyes flash up. "I didn't take any!"
"Okay. Would you agree to a drug screen?"
Bile rises in him. He's conceded that alcohol might be a problem - Nolan is astute enough to recognize a veiled confession when he hears one - but he's been clean for a year and he's never lied to Nolan, not consciously. "No. The hospital screens me regularly."
"And if Dr Cuddy insisted?"
House remains silent, but he can't suppress a wry grin. Cuddy is the only person who knows for certain that he didn't take the vicodin, having flushed it down the toilet herself. She'll be the last person to insist on an extra screen, especially if the impetus leading to its demand comes from Lucas.
"Okay," Nolan says in a tone that screams 'change of topic'. "What about your job?"
"What about it?" He's puzzled.
Nolan picks his words carefully. "You lost a patient in Trenton."
"It ... happens."
"You also had a major altercation with Dr Cuddy at the site..."
"We've had disputes on a daily basis since then. We thrive on constructive discussions - isn't that what they call these things nowadays?" House says flippantly.
"To the point that the hospital staff doesn't consider your dismissal an unlikely event," Nolan continues undeterred.
House turns to Lucas. "Let me guess - your source is that hulk in the lobby."
"Chase has a pool going on how much longer you'll last. People betting on time spans of less than a month aren't getting very good odds," Lucas says dourly.
Now that is amusing. More amusing than the Cuddy-Lucas pool.
"Greg, you don't seem to care about the precariousness of your situation," Nolan chides gently. "I'm obliged to inform Dr Cuddy that you've discontinued therapy. Given the present tension between you, the bother you're causing ..."
"Bother?" Again, he's genuinely puzzled. He's been really good lately.
"The court hearing today. A malpractice suit, I'm told."
" ... Ah, that. A mere trifle," House waves it away.
Nolan is silent for a moment, pondering on how to deal with pre-pubescent House. "I think you'd do well to cooperate. You like this job. It would be a pity if you lost it because you were annoyed with me. Justifiably annoyed, I'd like to add."
"Was that an apology? Oh, dandy!" House blows up his cheeks and lets the air out in little pops, considering whether aggravating Nolan any further makes any sense. "Suppose you have a patient and you take a blood sample." Nolan looks puzzled. "You send it to the lab and it comes back positive for everything from anaemia to zoster, do you grab the patient and pump him full of meds? No, you pounce on the lab technician who is plotting to kill the patient because he's thrown an eye on the patient's wife."
While Nolan looks confused at the metaphor, Lucas reacts instantly, strolling towards House's desk with barely masked aggression. "Nice metaphor, House, but she isn't your anything."
"Wait," Nolan says, "what's this? Mr Douglas ... Lucas Douglas. You're Dr Cuddy's Lucas? Oh no!"
"Yeah," Lucas says. "Should've mentioned it, I guess."
Disbelief, disgust and dismay chase across Nolan's face. "You didn't consider this a breach of confidence? The conflict of interests didn't bother you?"
"You mean, like breaking the Hippocratic oath or violating patient confidentiality? Nah, I'm just a common sleuth, we don't have highbrow stuff like codes of conduct." Nolan looks anything but placated. "Hey, He's the guy who paid me to snoop around his best friend and his employees. He kinda had it coming!"
"Mr Douglas, this throws doubts on the reliability of your information. Besides, has it occurred to you that observing one of Dr Cuddy's employees for a third party might put a strain on your relationship? Dr House is under no obligation to keep this from Dr Cuddy."
"Oh, not to worry," House says airily. "Their involvement is history. Ask him," he adds as Nolan musters him doubtfully.
"I may be on the bench at the moment, but that doesn't mean that you'll be allowed out on the field. Lisa is on the verge of losing her child to a juristic formality and she's under fire from the board. She isn't going to jeopardize kid or job for the sake of a miserable junkie who hates the kid and jerks her around at work!" Lucas is practically spitting with anger.
"Touché. But marrying a top-notch diagnostician who can ..."
"Marrying? Are you dreaming, House? She's been yelling non-stop at you since Trenton - there's no way she'll touch you with a ten-foot pole, let alone marry you."
"Hate to wake you from your sweet dreams, but she's done so already. One hour ago, to be exact." It wasn't his intention to shoot his mouth off before Cuddy has had time to inform the board, but Lucas's condescension gets to him in a way he hadn't anticipated. Lucas's reaction admittedly isn't quite what he envisaged (or has fantasized about, to be honest, ever since it struck him that Lucas would have to be informed and that he might be the lucky one to do it). Instead of going for House's throat, as House more than half expects, Lucas freezes where he is, giving Nolan a helpless, dismayed look.
"Look," he stammers, "I'm sorry ... I should've ...There was no sign of any more vicodin ... If I'd thought he was losing it, I would have contacted you."
Nolan stands up slowly. "Greg, do you have any proof of what you just said?"
"Cuddy's got the paperwork." Nolan looks pointedly at his left hand. "We didn't have time to get rings."
"I see," Nolan says, his expression grave. He turns towards Lucas. "Will you please ask Dr Cuddy to come here? Discreetly!"
Lucas draws a shaking hand through his hair. "I ... jeez ... sure. God, I'm sorry, House." Is that compassion in the schmuck's gaze?
"I am not hallucinating!" House yells. Thirteen looks over from the conference room.
"Go, please," Nolan nods to Lucas, who takes off. "Greg, three weeks ago you were in my office telling me that Dr Cuddy and her boyfriend were moving in together. Today you insist that you and Dr Cuddy are married. How likely does that sound..."
He trails off at the rumpus out on the corridor. A wildly gesticulating Taub is blocking Lucas's way, mirroring his movements as the PI tries to sidestep him to get to the elevator. Ignoring Nolan, House steps out into the corridor and wolf-whistles loudly.
"What's up?" he asks as soon as he has their attention.
"The little snitch has been spying on me for Cuddy," Taub rants, his habitual phlegm giving way to an eruption of epic proportions.
"I didn't ..," Lucas begins, but Taub cuts him off.
"Oh, yes, you did! Because Cuddy told my wife that I'm cheating on her, and how else would she know, huh?" And Taub jumps at Lucas, seizing him by the shirt and slamming him against the wall.
"Damn!" House hobbles forward, but before he can reach the pair, Lucas takes a swing at Taub, who topples backwards holding his nose. When House reaches him, he pulls Taub's hand off to inspect the damage. Then he turns to Lucas.
"I have no idea what he's talking about," Lucas says. holding up both hands defensively.
Thirteen, who came out of the conference room when Lucas hit Taub, now puts a supportive arm around Taub. "What happened?" she asks.
"Wachel phoned," Taub says indistinctly.
"Into the conference room, all of you!" House orders. "You," he points at Lucas, "don't go anywhere until all this is cleared up. Thirteen, see to Taub's nose. Where the hell are Foreman and Chase?"
"You didn't see them when you came in?" Thirteen asks.
"Obviously not!" House barks. "Taub, nose, ice!" He holds open the door to the conference room and shoos Thirteen, Taub and Lucas in. Then he takes a deep breath; Taub's marital problems are extremely inconvenient to put it mildly, because what he really needs to do is get rid of Nolan, take Lucas down a notch and explain to Cuddy why the whole hospital is going to be trooping by to felicitate her when she'd expressly asked him to lie low until after the next board meeting. If he dared leave Lucas and Taub here, he'd take Nolan to Cuddy to confirm his story and then get rid of him, but he supposes he'll have to find out first what Taub is on about.
He's spared dealing with the logistics of the chaos that Lucas has caused in his department by the arrival of the elevator whose doors open to reveal Cuddy. He observes her with his head tipped slightly as she marches towards him, enjoying the sway of her hips even as he registers the tenseness of her expression. Is that a trace of guilt in her face?
"House, I messed up."
"I know - I was there. You said, 'Yes, I do'."
She rolls her eyes. "Be serious for a moment. Taub's wife phoned to whine at me because of his 'long working hours' and I was indiscreet:"
"Ah, that would explain it, I suppose." House nods at Taub sitting at the conference table holding an ice-pack to his nose.
"Oh goodness, she was quick! I only just finished talking to her!"
"It wasn't Rachel Taub, it was your boy-toy."
Cuddy only now spots Lucas sitting in a corner of the room cradling his hand. "Oh, no! What's he doing here?"
"Long story. What did you say to Rachel?"
Cuddy gawps unhappily at Lucas while processing House's question. "She went on about how Taub has to work till midnight every day, so finally I lost my temper and told her that yesterday for instance Taub left the hospital well before midnight in the company of, ummm, one of our nurses. Why the hell was she ranting at me instead of you, anyway?"
"She likes me," House says, pursing his lips thoughtfully as he musters Taub.
"Can you fix it?" Cuddy asks hopefully.
"What makes you think I want to fix it?" House retorts, frowning down at her.
"You've been covering for him - she said something about both of you doing pottery classes together - ...."
"Ceramics," House corrects absently.
"... which you'd hardly have told her to enable his adultery, so you must have cooked up that story to protect her."
"Why shouldn't I have been enabling Taub?"
"You jerk people around, but you don't enable them," Cuddy says confidently.
Her confidence in his ability to fix things is heart-warming, but .... "Cuddy, there's no way I can fix this. But don't get your panties all in a twist - this isn't your fault."
"Not my fault when I blabbed my mouth off?" She gives him an incredulous frown.
"Your capacity for guilt is infinite, but no. I'd say he is to blame for cheating on Rachel unless you were the person Taub took off with yesterday. Then it would be a matter for debate, for who could resist those fun-bags?"
He leers at her while she rolls her eyes in exasperation, but she's smiling faintly. He's satisfied at having assuaged her guilt a little. When Nolan clears his throat behind them, House, who has forgotten about him, turns around startled. "Ah, Cuddy, this is my ex-shrink, Dr Nolan. Dr Nolan, Dr Cuddy."
"Dr Nolan!" Cuddy extends a hand. "Pleased to meet you." She pauses uncertainly. "Is there a problem? Hang on," she says, turning to House. "Ex-shrink?"
"You have an ex-fiancé, I have an ex-shrink. Equal rights, you know."
"Perhaps we could move into Greg's office," Nolan suggests. "Dr Cuddy, Greg has chosen to discontinue out-patient treatment at Mayfield," Nolan continues once they are in the relative privacy of House's office, with Cuddy seated in House's chair and House leaning against the wall. Nolan takes his previous seat opposite Cuddy. "While we were discussing alternatives," House harrumphs and Nolan ignores him, "Greg happened to mention that he and you were married. Could you confirm that, please?"
Cuddy favours House with the sort of glare that nails lesser mortals to the wall behind them. House fidgets slightly and decides that his sneakers deserve a thorough visual going-over. It's odd, but it was a lot easier to stand on the gallery and shout out to the whole hospital that he'd done Cuddy (even if he hadn't, but he hadn't known that) than admitting to matrimony. Sex is cool, being chained down isn't, he figures. He's uncomfortably aware that now that Taub's face is wrapped in an icepack instead of stuck to his phone, the people congregated in the conference room can listen in on the louder parts of their conversation.
"I see," says Nolan into the silence. "I'm afraid he wasn't trying to embarrass you. He genuinely believes ..." He breaks off at both their stares, but then plods on determinedly. "A drug screen should be done so that I can see what we're dealing with. Meanwhile I'll organize a room in Mayfield for the detox, if Greg is willing. I hope you're okay with that, Dr Cuddy."
"Yes ... I mean ...no!" Cuddy says, dazed.
"Cuddy, could you say something sensible please, before I'm carted away in a straight-jacket and Lucas does a victory dance on my conference table?" House presses out from between clenched teeth.
Lucas is indeed grinning like the Cheshire Cat, all compassion for House having been blown away at the intimacy of the interaction he witnessed between House and Cuddy earlier on. Taub and Thirteen are trying their best to look as though they can't hear a word of what is going on in House's office, but are failing miserably.
Cuddy stands up. "House and I are married," she states clearly, looking Nolan in the eye. She then strides past House into the conference room. "If any of this leaves this room, I'll fire you!"
"I don't think you can," House says just to be contrary. "Technically, only I can fire them."
"Ahem, I don't think we'll test that," Taub says.
"I'm sorry," Cuddy says to Lucas.
"'I'm sorry!'" House mimics, grimacing.
"Shut up, House! He shouldn't have found out like this."
House considers pointing out that he didn't fare much better a few months earlier, but decides to let it go when Thirteen gives him a brisk hug, saying, "I'm really, really happy for you." It happens so quickly that he has no time to wisecrack. Taub follows, proffering his hand. "Felicitations," he says indistinctly..
"What, even though my wife just tattled to your wife?"
"How the hell did Cuddy find out?" Taub asks furtively.
"The Evil One's eye is everywhere," House intones. He glances over at Cuddy, who is sitting next to Lucas, talking earnestly to him. Lucas is shocked into silence for once; he looks confused, like a child abandoned in a mall in the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping. He's wondering whether to disturb their tête-a-tête when Foreman and Chase appear in the corridor waving to him.
House pokes his head out. "What's up?"
"We've got someone for you," Chase says, nodding towards the boy they are flanking.
"Patient? Where's the file? Doesn't look interesting." The boy looks healthy enough, though perhaps a trifle pale. There aren't any interesting fluids spouting out of his orifices, nor does he show signs of seizing or other unusual activities. "What's his problem?"
"He says he's the father of Cuddy's kid."
"Ah," House says with a quick glance into the conference room where Cuddy is still dealing with a distraught Lucas. His inclination is to magic Simon away to some remote corner of the hospital, the morgue for instance, and instil the fear of the Lord in the lad.
Foreman seems to divine his intentions. "Dr Cuddy might be interested in hearing what he has to tell about her boy-friend."
Ah, yes, Foreman isn't in the picture as yet, but what he says corresponds to a suspicion that House has been nourishing.
"In we go then," House says with false cheer, pulling open the door to the conference room. "Sorry, Dr Nolan, but it's a busy day, as you can see. So, Steven, ..."
"Simon," the boy mutters glancing at Cuddy and then, with astonishment, at Lucas.
"Steven, Simon, whatever. What brings you here?"
When Simon remains silent Foreman says, "He's got an interesting story. He says he got a phone call about a week ago from someone who advised him that if he didn't want to forfeit all rights as a father, he should challenge the adoption."
Simon rakes his fingers through his hair. "Yeah. Before that I didn't even know I could do anything about it. No one told me that I have can have rights even though Natalie never named me officially as the father. My parents ... they wanted to protect me I guess. They don't want me to be burdened with a child at my age. They say it wasn't my fault."
"No," House says with heavy sarcasm, "it wasn't your dick up her ..."
"House, hush," Cuddy admonishes. Returning her attention to Simon she asks,"You were put up to this?" He nods.
"Greg?" Nolan asks sternly.
House wonders how he ever trusted the man. "Does that sound like me?" he asks with a faux-innocent expression.
"It does," Cuddy says briskly. "You'd do it without any compunction if it promised the slightest benefit to one of your schemes." Something clamps itself around House's heart and gives it a nasty squeeze.
"Uh, Dr Cuddy," Chase interrupts, "it wasn't House."
"I know."
The something around his heart relaxes slightly. "Thank you," House says, keeping his voice neutral with an effort.
Cuddy, however, isn't paying much attention to him anyway. She hones in on Lucas, all compassion for him wiped off her face. "You bastard! Was this your revenge on me for breaking up with you?"
Lucas puts up his hands as though to placate her. "No, no! Look, you've got it all wrong. You've misunderstood the situation."
"I have? Why would you want me to lose my daughter if not to get back at me?"
"You weren't meant to ... he wasn't supposed to sue for custody. I never told him he should do that!"
"No, my lawyer figured that one out - once I got myself a lawyer," Simon confirms.
"And what was he supposed to do?" House probes.
"I thought that if he contested the adoption, Lisa would realize that she needs me, y'know, just in case. But there would have been no harm done."
"No harm done?" Cuddy's voice rises a dangerous octave.
"You'd still be the foster mom, just like now. No change there. I mean, who cares about a piece of paper - she'd still be your daughter even if he's officially the father. So long as you have custody of Rachel, who cares?" He looks around at the faces looming around him. "Hell, how was I supposed to know he'd apply for custody too? Seriously, what eighteen-year-old wants a kid?"
"The kid's father, maybe," Taub says to no one in particular. Everyone else is staring at Lucas with varying degrees of disbelief and disgust.
Nolan is the first to find his tongue. "Mr Douglas, do you mean to say that you informed the father of Dr Cuddy's child of the possibility of contesting the impending adoption in the hope that the ensuing legal action would persuade Dr Cuddy to resume her relationship with you? You did this knowing that if it came to a custody battle this might well cost Dr Cuddy her child?"
When he puts it this way, it sounds odd indeed.
"You didn't stop to consider that this would affect any sort of rapport that you might manage to establish with Dr Cuddy?"
It sounds more than odd; it's downright stupid. Yet if loving Cuddy has turned his brain into slush, can one blame Lucas for it? She has much the same effect on him. House notices Cuddy stirring out of the corner of his eye.
"Nolan, take Lucas and your impromptu therapy session somewhere else. Cuddy turns into a veritable she-wolf when her man-child is threatened." He pulls Lucas up unceremoniously and shoves him towards the door.
"We still need to talk, Greg," Nolan objects.
"Not today. Look, you brought this joker here - you get him out of here, preferably before Cuddy wakes from her catatonic state."
He watches them leave before he turns back to the others. "I'm glad we're rid of them," he says conversationally. "In a moment Nolan would have been asking really stupid questions, like, 'How do you feel about the situation?' or 'Do you think this worked for you?'" As he speaks he moves casually over to Cuddy and places his hands on her shoulder, unobtrusively using his thumbs to knead the muscles running along the base of her neck. He continues until he feels her relax gradually and lean into his touch.
Simon shifts uneasily in his corner.
"You," House says, "can sue for custody. We won't stop you. Dr Cuddy is dean of a renowned hospital. I am head of Diagnostics. Did I mention that we're married? We are medically qualified and financially equipped to deal with - what's the pc term for retards? - oh, a challenged child, right?"
Cuddy stiffens. "There's no sign that she's mentally ...."
"Relax!" He fixes Simon with a glare. "You, on the other hand, are ignorant of basic health concepts such as contraception or safer sex, while your favoured method of consolidating your finances is selling booze and drugs to minors. Contest the adoption for all I care." Cuddy gives a gasp of protest, so he tightens his grip on her shoulder. "A child has a right to know who its father is and that he cares ... even if he does so in a screwed-up way. But before you apply for custody, take a moment to consider whether a private agreement between Dr Cuddy and you regarding visiting rights wouldn't be more generous to you than what a judge will award you once he hears about your past track record." He leans forward and gives Simon a conspiratorial wink. "She's a real soft touch," he says in a stage whisper.
Simon is visibly intimidated. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now, scram! Taub, see him out." As an afterthought he adds, "You can have the rest of the day off."
Once Simon is out of earshot, Cuddy turns on House. "She's not a retard!"
"Who cares? Do you want him scared off or not? Good." He scratches his chin thoughtfully, looking around at his remaining fellows. Foreman and Chase are looking gob-smacked, while Thirteen smiles knowingly. "Let's give the children a chance to gossip while we pay a visit to HR, shall we?"
"HR - oh dear!" Cuddy says. "You couldn't keep your big trap shut, could you?"
House propels her to the door. "We'd need to go there irrespective of my propensity to spread the gospel. I'm sure there's some hospital directive or other specifying that one needs to inform them of changes in one's family status within a certain time span. Wilson would know - he's done it often enough," he adds meditatively as they pass his office.
"Wilson," she says as they wait in front of the elevator. "Does he know yet?"
House's reply is submerged in Cuddy's stifled shriek as he gropes her rear.
When House returns from HR, Wilson is consulting with a patient. House briefly considers barging in on him, but he discards the notion as quickly as the one of waiting in his own office until Wilson can't contain his curiosity any more. So he goes out onto his balcony, chucks a few stones at Wilson's balcony door to indicate his willingness to talk and then leans on the parapet to wait for his friend.
Wilson lets him wait for fifteen minutes, which means that someone from the team (House thinks that it was probably Thirteen) has informed Wilson of the revelations of the past hour. When Wilson finally comes outside, he's exuding a mixture of hurt, concern and worry. He reminds House of parents who bring their teen kids to the hospital mouthing platitudes such as, 'We don't control our child. We have full confidence in his ability to make the right decisions,' and are then completely gob-smacked when it turns out that their kid is drinking, taking drugs and having unprotected sex. What the hell did Wilson expect when he threw him out of his condo: that he'd check every personal decision with him, ask his permission to date? In righteous irritation he flicks a tissue wad at the gardener fertilizing the lawn below.
Wilson leans on the parapet on his side of the balcony and they both watch the missile's arc through the air down three floors until it hits the lawn yards away from its target. House grimaces.
"You heard," he says.
"Your little ones bounced into my office asking what daddy's been up to..."
"Hmmmm."
"... a question I couldn't answer because I know less than nothing about it."
"Gosh darn it, Wilson, you've done it three times; surely you can explain the basic procedure to my minions! Get a licence, say 'yes' in front of a judge and the dire deed is done."
"House!" Wilson shakes his head in exasperation. "This is radical, even by your standards."
"You were always at me to hit on Cuddy, to get involved in a 'serious relationship'." He paints quotation marks in the air.
"Yes, but matrimony! How long have you been dating Cuddy?"
'Dating' probably isn't the right word, but House doesn't exactly want to share the details of the past days with Wilson. "Ten days, give or take."
"And she was gone for five of those," Wilson sums up. "You don't think that's jumping the gun?"
"You've been known to marry women you'd dated for less than three months," House grumbles.
"Ten days isn't three months."
"Christ, Wilson, I've known Cuddy for over twenty years. She's not a whisky, mellowing with every additional year. It's all downhill from here: crow's feet, sagging boobs, cellulitis ..." He gives a mock shudder. "Definitely a need for haste."
"You're deflecting."
"It's no big deal," House mutters.
"It's a lifetime commitment!"
House refrains from pointing out that Wilson has currently run up three of those 'once-in-a-lifetime' commitments.
"If you're so casual about it," Wilson continues, "how come you didn't marry Stacy? Judging by how quickly she married Mark, she wouldn't have been unwilling."
House shrugs. "There was no need. If there had been, I'd have made an honest woman of her."
"The story your team told me - something about custody for Rachel - explains why Cuddy needs to marry, but not why you would agree to do so."
"You think I'm too self-serving to do something that benefits Cuddy mostly."
"I think you are too self-serving to do something that doesn't benefit you at all. You've always resented Rachel, you don't like sharing Cuddy and you don't want to be father."
"You assume that, based on my personal preferences, I'd embark on a course of action designed to cause maximum misery all round?"
"No, that's not what I ... I didn't ... oh, forget it!"
"My shrink says I should formulate positively: I like Cuddy's bod, I like getting laid, and I'd like to get laid even after the court hearing on Rachel's adoption. So I've tried to ensure that nothing gets in the way of Cuddy being happy enough to jump me regularly and enthusiastically."
"Your methods are a bit drastic and, frankly, unnecessary. Chase says the biological father isn't too enthused at the idea of raising a special-needs kid and that it took you three minutes to reduce him to a gibbering mess."
"Could be," House says non-committally. "Cuddy was on a guilt trip - saw herself as the wicked stepmother taking the child away from its rightful father - so it escaped her notice that she's dealing with an irresponsible bastard who mobbed the girl he was screwing and ignored his kid for eighteen months. That's not even mentioning the booze and drug racket he had going at his high school. Then again, being with Lucas might have clouded Cuddy's view of what one can reasonably expect from guys."
"And you didn't see fit to set her right about the boy before you tied the knot? ... You know what I think?"
House doesn't want to know, but he supposes he'll have to grin and bear it.
"I think you want to tie Cuddy down, make sure she doesn't leave you the way Stacy did, the way she left Lucas. You have an issue with abandonment."
"Your logic is faulty. My relationship with Stacy, although not graced with a ring, lasted a darn sight longer than any of your marriages. It follows that the best way to sabotage a relationship is to get married."
"Fine. You're not tying her down with a piece of paper - you're binding her with the chain of gratitude. Now she's obliged to you, so she can't up and leave you."
House taps the balustrade rhythmically. "What should I have done, in your opinion?"
"What normal people do: date her for some time, move in with her, see how things go, especially with you and Rachel, and then ..."
"Hmmm. And what happens if it doesn't work?"
"Huh? I thought you're so convinced it will work that ..."
"I thought we're talking our way through an alternate scenario because you're convinced it won't work. So tell me what happens then!"
"Well," Wilson says in measured tones, "much the same as when you're married and it doesn't work, but with a lot less hassle and unpleasantness. No alimony either, but since she'd be paying you, I guess that argument doesn't apply."
"I move back into my apartment?"
"Yeah."
"She nags me about clinic hours and I make crude comments about her ass."
"Well, yes."
"This utopian vision can only come from a guy who takes his ex-wives out to dinner on their divorce anniversary. Weren't you bridesmaid when Bonnie married that insurance fellow last fall?" House scoffs.
"No ... I ... she doesn't have any male relatives so I gave her away. In loco parentis, you know," Wilson says unhappily.
"Father of the bride. That's perverted, somehow," House muses.
"Stop skirting the issue. What are you getting at, House?"
"Cuddy and I have been flirting for years. Have you never wondered why we didn't just do the nasty and then waited to see where it would go?"
"I have been wondering for years! In case you didn't notice, I've been asking you for years, but you never deigned to give me a coherent reply."
"I don't do nice. I don't do nice split-ups, with or without divorce thrown into the mix. When ... if Cuddy and I break up, it'll be the kind of nuclear cataclysm that starts off at sub-atomic level, but ends up laying waste to entire continents." He rubs his thumb over his eyebrows and sighs. He doesn't want to go into all this, sketching scenarios that are best left in the depths of his subconscious where all they can do is worry him regularly in the form of nightmares. But Wilson is unbelievably naive about relationships. "If we'd got together and then split up, I would have behaved in a manner that would have left Cuddy with little choice but to fire me. Given my reputation and my well-known addiction, I'd never have landed another job. I knew it, Cuddy knew it, so we both let well alone."
"So what's changed?"
"I have. I've been clean for a year, lawsuits are down. If I had to get a new job, I could."
"So ... that's good. But it doesn't explain the shotgun wedding."
"Oh, you're too sharp for me - nothing escapes your razor-like powers of observation." House waggles a finger at Wilson. Then he's serious again. "Cuddy's situation has changed, too. If I go, she stands to lose her job."
"What? The board would be glad to be rid of you!"
"Don't kid yourself. Cuddy's spent years selling me as an asset to the board until they actually believed her fairy tale. Now that I'm halfway presentable, they'd be pretty pissed off if the dean had to fire a department head because their screwing got out of hand. Her rep has suffered over that Atlantic Net deal ..."
"She got what she wanted."
"She gambled, and the board knew it. They don't like gambling, no matter how successful. They don't care whether we get eight percent or twelve percent because they don't have to explain salary cuts to irate staff or turn away patients because we have to cut down on beds. Plus, donations are down by thirty percent."
Wilson looks surprised. House shrugs. "That's what happens when the dean runs home at six to coddle her cabbage-patch kid instead of flashing her boobs at donors over dinner. Unlike me, Cuddy will find it difficult to land a new job."
"Oh, come along, she's good!"
"How many hospitals need new deans? And how many of those take deans with a medical degree instead of a management degree? As for practising medicine, she hasn't been a real doctor in years - she'd have to start from scratch, her reputation in shreds, her income decimated, everything she's achieved washed down the drain."
"Wait, so you're agreeable to a relationship now, because it would ruin her instead of you, and to compensate for your egotism you're putting a ring on her finger."
"I love how you manage to verbalize my virtues," House quips.
"I'm not buying this," Wilson says abruptly. "Cuddy isn't a romantic teen who can be duped with a ring."
"Oh, don't be a moron. I'm not duping her. I'm trying to make the situation more acceptable. If it were just for the kid and that damn chromosome donor of hers, I wouldn't have bothered, but matrimony certainly won't harm Cuddy's case in court. Here in the hospital, however, Cuddy's situation will become pretty untenable when people find out that the dean is doing her diagnostician, which they will once her private life is spread out in a court hearing. It sounds much better to say that she's fulfilling her marital duties. Unfortunately, Cuddy is much too proud to legalize me just to save her own skin."
"So ... you pushed a bit."
House considers the gardener below him. The tissue wad would need to be heavier to have enough impetus to cover the horizontal distance between them - a few small stones, perhaps ... He can feel Wilson's eyes on him, dissecting him as he picks up a few stones to weigh down the next tissue.
"You ...euwww, House what are you doing?"
"Chewing on the tissue. How else'm I supposed to make a decent wad out of it?" House says indistinctly.
"Do you think that bugging the rest of Cuddy's staff is conducive to getting laid today?"
House waves Wilson's objections aside. "Minor ripples that barely disturb the surface of the deep pool that she inhabits."
"If you don't watch out she'll shoot out her tentacles and pull you into the deep."
House considers this metaphor. He'd rather like to be entwined in Cuddy's coils and be pulled down into her lair where she'd have her wicked way with him. He smiles faintly at the direction his thoughts are taking.
"It's really hit you badly, hasn't it?" Wilson says. "Love," he clarifies, just in case House doesn't get his meaning.
The way Wilson says it makes it sound like a Good Thing. A bit goofy, but good.
Wilson is an idiot.
Love is never a good thing. It isn't any of the stuff Wilson thinks of when he takes the word in his mouth: regular sex, someone to come home to in the evenings, someone to talk to and share confidences with. Those can be perks, but they have nothing to do with the underlying emotion.
Love is not letting your mother know what her husband is doing to you in her absence, because destroying the illusion that she's built around her life would hurt her more than the guy you used to call father can hurt you.
Love is sending the woman you want back to her husband, because you know you'll never trust her or open up to her again the way she deserves, the way her husband is prepared to do.
Love is accepting that your friend carries out his neediness issues at your expense, turning his back on you whenever he needs affirmation from some third party that he's supportive, caring and sweet.
Love is protecting the kid you've unfortunately got yourself involved with via its mother from the neighbourhood bully, knowing all the while that each time you instil the fear of God in one pesky brat, there'll be ten others waiting in line to terrorize your kid the moment your back is turned.
"Gotta go," Wilson says. "My next patient's waiting. Try shooting the wad with a rubber band," he suggests as he leaves. He'd do well as head of a terror organisation, sending out suicide bombers, but never getting into the line of fire himself.
Love is pretending that you believe that cooked up story about your team drugging your friend, not even hinting at what you found when you hacked your friend's browser history this morning while he was doing his rounds, because if he knew that you know it would be the end of your friendship. You'll have to practice severe self-restraint, behaving as though nothing has changed. ...
Love is exacting dire retribution on your fellows for humiliating your friend so bitterly.
On that cheering thought House accurately fires the tissue lump at the gardener's head and disappears back into into his office to plan his revenge.
The End
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Actually, I'm not sure why you feel like you need to bury this one deep in your subconscious or whatever. It's a comedy, after all, so there should be a wedding, and the way you treated the analysis of House's motives was terrific. I did feel sorry for poor old Wilson, although his outing by the fellows came across as rather a good spoof of H/W fanfic.
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as much as i love the House/Cuddy plot in Twelve Days, for me the House minions' sub-plot (plotting) is gold. they really are mini-Houses. as for Lucas, in season 6 he felt less like a real character and more like a plot device for Cuddy's development. the way he is written by fandom, i believe is a reflection of the latter's attitude (conscious or not) towards Cuddy. i mean there is only so much villainy one can endow Lucas before one starts asking how stupid/insane/desperate Cuddy was in thinking she can actually build a life with him.
i'm glad you wrote Lucas as a jerk who is manipulative enough to mean that he is intelligent in his own way. but he can't win against House(who is the most incredible man Cuddy will ever know). your Lucas at least was entertaining.
i suppose the writing process is its own reward, but still i feel that your stories deserve more feedback than it got. i enjoyed Twelve Days and i hope to read more stories from you.
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The problem with House is that anything short of proposing would not be insane for him at all - this is the guy who moved in with a woman after knowing her for a mere week.
If the Lucas of the series had been portrayed as an out-and-out villain, then Cuddy leaving him would pose the question whether she's only hitching up with House because next to a villainous Lucas *even* House seems like a good deal. Given a better alternative, she might then well leave House in turn (rather like the stunt Stacy tried to pull at the beginning of Season 2, leaving Mark for House when House seemed nicer and Mark more difficult). The way the show handles the problem - having Cuddy leave Lucas although she has nothing whatsoever to complain about - casts doubts on whether Cuddy is a *nice* person, but at the same time it's clear that her choice is an active one for House and that House isn't some sort of stop-gap until something better crops up.
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But I absolutely adored the team pranking Wilson. They are so devious. It's cruel, but so funny at the same time. I love that Taub's terrified for his marriage, Thirteen is the mastermind, Chase and Foreman are the bullies. It's fun.
Lucas was fun too. Crazy and evil and devious. The twist with Lucas planning it all was excellent. I actually forgot about Simon and his biological rights because it's been so long, but it made for a good case.
But you know what I really loved? Nolan. You brought Nolan back. I love him and even though he was dumb enough to hire Lucas without putting two and two together earlier, I still loved that you brought him back. He's my favorite guest star other than Amber.
All of this is fantastic. This was definitely worth staying up late. ♥
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Yes, the pranking of Wilson is cruel, as it also is in the original. I'm glad you saw that. I don't really see Lucas as evil, not even in my little fic world. He shows at the beginning of Season 5 that his morals are at least as shifty as House's, but while House has his own set of moral standards to compensate for his lack of respect for society's morals, I doubt Lucas has anything to fall back on. Thus he misses the boundary between 'creepy, but still okay' and 'not okay by any standards'. He's a bit like a kid indulging in drunk driving. It's fine as long as nothing happens and awkward if one gets caught. But which kid stops to consider the consequences if they kill someone in an accident?
I much preferred Nolan to Amber, but that might be because IMO the actress who played the role didn't do a very good job. But in my eyes Nolan has some very serious issues, so I don't think I did him a great injustice by making him a lot slower on the uptake than House.