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Torch Songs for Two	By : Veresna Category: G through L > House Views: 4668 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own House, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter 06:� As
Time Goes By

Wednesday morning, three days later

�� It was a
beautiful morning, warm and clear, and the sun sparkled off the smooth, silver
finish of her BMW as Cuddy pulled into her parking space.� Turning off the engine, she pulled down the
driver-side visor and checked out her reflection in the attached mirror.� She had taken special care with her make-up
this morning, adding an extra coat of mascara and brushing on just a bit more
eyeshadow than she usually used in the daytime.�
Her blush and lipstick were darker and redder than the light pink hues
she normally wore, the shades specially chosen to complement the vibrant color
of her new suit.

Satisfied with her appearance, she
flipped the visor back into place and bent down to press the trunk release
button.� Looping her purse over her
shoulder, she got out of the car and stepped to the rear of the vehicle.� She grasped the handles of the large box and
lifted it out of the trunk.

�Hey, Cuddy, welcome back!�

She turned and smiled at Wilson
as he hurried through the parking lot to meet her.

�Let me get that,� he said,
reaching over to take the box from her hands.

�Thanks,� she said, gratefully, as
she turned to slam down the trunk lid and lock the doors with her remote.

�This stack seems to have grown
since Sunday night,� he commented, peering down into the carton.

�Yeah, I picked up a few more
projects before I left on Monday morning,� she admitted.

�Nothing like a couple of days
�away from work�,� he said, his tone slightly disapproving.

�Oh, come on, you and I both know
that the board�s �concern� for my well-being also means that certain members
are going to look for any excuse to send me home permanently.� I�m going to have to be working extra-hard
for a while.� By the way,� she said,
stopping suddenly and turning to look him in the face.� �What exactly was said about me at the board
meeting Monday night?�

Wilson
smiled reassuringly.� �Just that people
were sorry to hear about what had happened, but they were relieved when I told
them you had made a complete recovery before you were sent home,� he said.

�Nothing about the fact that House
brought me into the ER?� she asked, lowering her voice.

�He is universally hated by the
rest of the board members, but they all agreed he was the logical choice for
you to call.�

�Even Bob Smithers?� she asked,
with a grin.

�Yes, although he did wonder out
loud if it wasn�t time for someone, preferably with better aim than last time,
to shoot the bastard again,� he informed her, as they began to walk towards the
hospital.

�Did you finish all of this?� he
asked, shifting the box over to carry it beneath his right arm.

�Yes, I did,� she said, proudly,
her high heels clicking smartly against the cement as they walked.� �You�d be amazed at how much work you can get
done when you don�t have to waste all your time answering the phone and
attending meetings.�

�Or having certain employees
bursting into your office all day long with outlandish demands or seeking your
permission to perform unorthodox treatments,� he suggested, smiling.

�That definitely helps,� she
laughed, pointing her finger in the air as she shared a knowing smile with him
over their mutual long-suffering patience for House�s narcissistic behavior.

�Looks like you even had time to do
a little shopping?� he asked, slowing his steps for a moment and tilting his
head to watch her as she walked ahead of him.

�Yeah,� she said, turning back to
look at him.� �What do you think?� she asked,
twirling around to give him a full view of her outfit.

She had spent a day and a half at
home pouring over paperwork and bent over her laptop, allowing herself only a
few meal and bathroom breaks.� By Tuesday
afternoon, she had been more than ready for a little diversion.� She drove to one of her favorite stores, and
was surprised and delighted to discover that there was a sale in progress.� She had already tried on several suits and
was trying to decide between them when a bright splash of red at the end of a
rack had caught her eye.� It was not a
color she normally wore, nor was the snow-white, high-necked silk blouse a
typical style for her.� But once she had
tried it on, she had fallen in love with the outfit.� A quick trip through the rest of the store
had netted a perfectly matched purse, necklace and pair of high heels to
complete her ensemble.

�It�s fantastic,� said Wilson,
smiling appreciatively.

�It�s not too much, is it?� she asked, suddenly sounding doubtful.

�Absolutely not,� he assured
her.� �It says:� �I�m back, I�m at the top of my game and I�m
rarin� to go�,� he said.

�Thanks.� I can�t wait to hear what House says about
it,� she admitted as they both began to walk forward again.� �I doubt if he�ll leave it at �The Lady in
Red�.� Maybe he�ll ask if I�m a Candy
Striper, or a Candy Stripper,� she
joked.

�Unfortunately, he�s not going to
be seeing it, at least not today� said Wilson,
his voice dropping down in tone and volume as he slowed his pace again.

In answer to Cuddy�s questioning
look, he elaborated:� �He�s called in
late last night and said he wouldn�t be in today.� Actually, he�s not going to be in for the
rest of the week.�

�Oh,� she said, stopping and
looking suddenly crestfallen.� �Is he all
right?� she asked.

But before Wilson
could begin to answer her, a flash of anger crossed over her face.� �Oh, don�t bother answering that, of course
he�s fine.� Isn�t this convenient,� she fumed, tossing her head
as she began striding angrily down the sidewalk.� �He just happens to take off the three days
he�s been assigned to extra clinic duty-to make up for all the times he�s
managed to miss the past six months.� And
he thought I�d be so busy getting back to work that I wouldn�t notice.�

Wilson
found that, despite the fact she was wearing high heels, he was hard-pressed to
keep up with her furious pace.

�Well, he�s got his team covering
these days,� he told her as they entered the hospital.� �Taub, Kutner and Thirteen are each taking a
day apiece and,� he added, stopping at a counter to put the box down for a
moment, �he�s already signed up to cover four hours of clinic three days next
week.�

He watched as she abruptly stopped,
turned, and walked back towards him.

�What�s he up to?� she asked, her
face a mixture of bewilderment and suspicion.

�I have no idea,� said Wilson,
shaking his head. "But he's up to something," he agreed,
"because there is no way that this is just a coincidence."

They stared at each other, puzzled
expressions on their faces as they pondered upon the mystery of House�s
behavior.

�Dr. Cuddy?�

She turned and a bright smile
appeared on her face.� �Dr. Smithers!�
she called out, cheerfully.

A short and portly middle-aged man
dressed in a lab coat was approaching them.�
His face was flabby and pink, and he had some long grey strands of hair
plastered across his shiny forehead.�

�Well, don�t you look great!� he
said.

�Why, thank you, Bob,� she replied
with just a touch of coquettishness in her tone.

�Of course, we are all thrilled to
see you back so soon.� But I hope you
didn�t rush your recovery,� he said, wagging a pudgy finger in front of her
face.� �If you need to take a little more
time off-� he began.

�Oh, no, not at all,� she told him,
moving to link her arm with his.� �But,
thank you so much for allowing me to have those days off.� You know, I was finally able to sit down and
give those memos you�ve been sending me the full attention that they
deserve.� Your plans for the annual
alumni dinner are just wonderful,� she enthused.

�Wilson-�,
she began, looking back towards him.

�I�ll set this by your office,� he
promised, nodding at the box.

�Thanks,� she said, returning her
attention to Smithers.

Wilson
bowed his head to hide his smile as they walked away from him.� No one would guess from her current tone of
voice and animated expression that Cuddy had once confided to him that she kept
one of his infamous memos next to her bed.�
Reading a single paragraph from a dull and pompous Smithers memorandum
was always a sure-fire cure for insomnia.

�� X��
X�� X�� X�� X�� X�� X

Monday morning, five days later

��
�� Cuddy
pushed back her chair and sighed loudly as she glanced at her office
clock.� As usual, she had been in to work
very early on Monday morning, trying to catch up with the phone messages and
emails that had accumulated over the weekend before turning her attention to
the current week�s agenda.� But this
morning she had managed to breeze through that work in less than half an hour,
and she was running out of things to occupy her time until the clinic opened at
eight o�clock.

�� She
certainly didn�t want to appear to be anxious to see him, of course.� And House was seldom, if ever, on time for
his clinic duty shifts (which never kept him from lying about it on the sign-in
sheet).� Since she herself was not
scheduled to see patients today, she could only make a brief appearance there
under the pretense she was just doing one of her random checks on the
department.

�� But the
truth was, she really had started to miss him and was especially looking
forward to spending some time with him in that department.� It was the only area of the hospital where
she would occasionally allow their flirtation to go beyond bantering words and
playful looks.� She had explicitly
forbidden him to ever touch her if she was in his office (or he in hers), but
she was willing to relax that rule whenever they found themselves alone for a
few moments in one of the exam rooms.

�� They had
also found that the high counters surrounding the central desk area offered
excellent cover for them.� If House
�accidentally� brushed his hand across her chest as he reached over to pick up
a chart, her buttocks might just happen to bump up against his crotch when she
bent down to pick up a paper clip.� The
jolt of pleasure accompanying these brief moments of contact was immeasurably
magnified by the fact that they occurred under the oblivious noses of their
colleagues.��

�� She finally
decided that, if she walked slowly and stopped for a cup of coffee in the
cafeteria while on her way down, she could start walking over to the
clinic.� She paused to retrieve her
labcoat from the coat rack in her office, throwing it over her clothes, but
leaving it unbuttoned.�

She couldn�t bring herself to wear
the red suit again so soon after its initial appearance, but she had
nonetheless chosen her clothes very carefully this morning.� Her tunic top was light pink in color, with a
pale blue pattern, and she had been wearing it a number of years ago when there
had been a sudden meningitis outbreak at a local school swim meet.� After working in the crowded lobby for
several hours, screening the participants, it had finally gotten so warm that
she had removed her labcoat.� House had
taken one look at her low-cut top and made remarks regarding �the produce
section of Whole Foods� and whether or not it was appropriate for a Dean of
Medicine to expose her �fun bags� to the general populace.

She was striding in the clinic ten
minutes later with a coffee cup in her hand, and a slightly fluttery sense of
anticipation in her stomach, as she walked over to the main desk.

�Hi, Mary.� Has Dr. House managed to make it in yet this
morning?� she asked the receptionist, setting down the cup and glancing briefly
at the charts sitting in the rack.

�He was here at five to eight,� the
woman informed her, seemingly shocked herself by the information.� �He�s already in with a patient,� she added,
nodding towards Exam Room One.

�Oh,� she said, momentarily at a
loss for words.� �Anything exciting going
on today?� she finally managed to ask.

�Nope, the usual,� Mary said.� �All the sniffles and aches that people have
had all weekend long, that are now suddenly making them too sick to go to
work,� she shrugged.

�Yeah,� Cuddy agreed, putting her
hands into the pocket of her labcoat.�
She wondered how much longer she could hang around before her presence
attracted unwanted notice.

To her relief, she heard the door
of Exam Room One open up behind her.

�Good morning,� he said, striding
over to stand next to her at the desk.�

�My, aren�t you the eager beaver
this morning?� she commented.

�Dr. Cuddy,� he said, clucking his
tongue, �have you not been told that it is in poor taste, and possibly
litigatious, to use words like that which have sexually suggestive
connotations?�

��Is that
why your picture is on the �Sexual Harassment� posters in the lobby?�

�And what are you doing at the clinic so bright and early on this Monday
morning.� Already cracking the whip over
the heads of your hapless employees?�

Before she could reply, he had
thrown a culturette down on the counter and was addressing the
receptionist.�

�Need that sent to the lab for a
Quick Strep,� he told Mary.

He turned back to Cuddy and she caught
the gleam in his eye as he glanced down at her cleavage and then slowly turned
his gaze upward to her face.

�She doesn�t really use a whip, of
course,� he added, turning back to whisper conspiratorially to Mary.� �Just a riding crop.� But remember that it�s one of Mommy and
Daddy�s �special toys�, like those funny long balloons, and you�re not allowed
to play with it,� he added, waggling his eyebrows.

The receptionist, apparently quite
used to his sense of humor, just rolled her eyes and picked up the culturette
to deliver it to the lab.

Cuddy waited until she was gone to
speak.

�So, Dr. House,� she began, moving
to walk over behind the counter.� �We�ve
finally managed to both show up for work again.�

�At least I wasn�t milking the
payroll by sitting at home for two days pretending
to be sick,� he said, slowly following after her.

�Yeah, I see you took vacation days
rather than sick leave,� she said.� �I
wondered what you were doing, and then I heard that there was a big �Hooker
Convention� in town,� she teased, as she turned around to face him.

�Well, I was the biggest sponsor of
the Princeton branch this year, so I kind of figured I
should make an appearance,� he said, folding his arms and leaning back against
the counter.� �They were really sweet,
too.� They held a lunch in my honor and
presented me with a new cane,� he informed her.

�Looks the same to me,� she said,
after studying it a moment.

�Well, I couldn�t bring it into
work,� he said, widening his eyes.� �That
would be too embarrassing.� You see, it�s
about this big,� he said, holding his hands far apart, �and it was modeled
after their favorite part of me.�

�Your Visa card?� she asked, taking
a seat on the desk and taking care to make sure that her labcoat was gaping
open.�
�
She saw him glance over at the
candy bowl that was sitting on the counter, near her left shoulder.

That�s
right.� All you have to do is come a
little closer and lean over to rummage through the bowl for one of your
favorite red lollipops.� And you can grab
a quick feel with your left hand while you do that.

�So, how about you?� he asked,
eyeing her d�colletage for a moment again.�
�Did you just have bags of fun
while you were off?�

�Thank you for remembering,� she
said, smiling up sweetly at him.

�Hmm, funny,� he said, moving
slightly closer to her.� �I had a good
breakfast this morning, but a couple of grapefruit would sure hit the spot
right now.�

�I saw some in Whole Foods this
morning, but I didn�t know if they were ripe or not,� she said.�

�That�s why I always give them a
little squeeze first,� he whispered, bending down slightly.

She smiled and leaned over.�

Here�s
your chance.

But he suddenly turned around and
began heading away from her, walking around to the outside of the desk.

Puzzled, she glanced around to see
if he had broken off the game because someone was approaching them.� But there appeared to be absolutely no one in
the immediate vicinity.

�Gotta get back to work,� he said,
picking up another chart from the counter.�
�My boss is an absolute slave driver,� he complained.�

He took a few steps towards Exam
Room Four and then paused and stepped towards the counter, reaching into the
middle of the bowl and deftly retrieving a red sucker from the center.� With a flick of his wrist, he removed the
cellophane wrapper and popped it into his mouth.

�Love your top, by the way,� he
mumbled around the lollipop.� �It�s
awfully�what�s the word I�m looking for?� He frowned thoughtfully, twirling the
stick in his mouth.� ��discreet,� he added
with a smile, waggling his eyebrows and making loud sucking noises as he backed
into the room.

She remained sitting on the desk,
not sure whether she was more amused, angry or disappointed.

You
told him to be on his best behavior.

She frowned and hopped off of the
desk, and went to retrieve her coffee cup.

Yeah,
but since when does he listen to you?

�� �� X��
X�� X�� X�� X�� X�� X�� X

Friday afternoon, four days later

�� Wilson
stepped back as the elevator doors opened, making way for the departing passengers.� The last person out of the car was Cuddy, and
it took only a glance at her face for Wilson
to discern where she was headed.

�Let me guess,� he said, softly, so
that he would not be overheard by others.�
�You�re headed for the war zone?�

�Don�t worry,� she said, her smile
brittle and fixed, �the combatants are about to declare an armistice.�

�Good luck,� he said, stepping back
and watching her storm down the hallway.�

�� She
had a folder clutched tightly in her right hand, and her arms were swinging
determinedly back and forth in rhythm with the swaying motion of her hips as
she walked.

�� House,�
he whispered to himself, as he watched her lovely bottom moving back and forth,
�you are a very lucky man.� And I hope
you are wearing your iron-clad boxers today.�

�� She
did not even look into House�s office as she walked by it, instead directing
her steps to the staff room.� She pushed
the door open and quickly glanced around at the occupants of the room.� Thirteen was working on a chart, Taub was reading
a medical journal, and Kutner was sitting with his feet up on the table,
immersed in a comic book.� Foreman was
working on a laptop at the end of the table.�
The three fellows all looked up as she entered the room, with Kutner
quickly lowering his feet to the floor, but Foreman�s attention remained fixed
upon the laptop screen.

�� Hi
guys,� she said, nodding at the three while striding over to the door that led
into House�s office.� �Dr. Foreman,� she
said, as she pushed the door open, �I would like to see you for a moment in Dr.
House�s office, to speak to you about the departmental budget for next year?�

�� Of
course, Dr. Cuddy,� he replied, immediately closing the laptop and getting to
his feet.�

�� She
preceded him into the other room and they both stood silently for a moment,
staring at House.� He was sitting in his
desk chair with his eyes closed, wearing earphones on his head.� As if sensing their presence, he slowly opened
one eye and stared back at them.�
Rotating his chair to the side, he reached over to turn up the volume of
his music system.� He yawned and
stretched, and then sat back in the chair with his hands folded in his lap and
both eyes closed again.

�� Cuddy
immediately strode over to his side, bent down and flipped the volume to the maximum
position.

�� Hey!�
he cried, jumping up and simultaneously pulling off the earphones.� Tilting his head to the side, he put his
little finger into one ear and moved it back and forth.� �You could seriously damage someone�s hearing
doing that!� he sulked.

�� Tell
Bob Smithers about it, his ears are still ringing from your phone call a couple
weeks ago,� she snapped.� She bent over
again and this time clicked off the power to the system.

�� Please
have a seat, Dr. Foreman,� she said.

�� He
remained standing for a moment, his arms crossed mutinously in front of
him.� Then, with a resentful shrug of his
shoulders, he seated himself in the chair across the desk from House.

�� Gentlemen,�
began Cuddy, looking back and forth between the two of them, �and I use the
term loosely��

�� You�re
in trouble now,� smirked House, moving to replace the headphones on his ears.

�� Don�t...you�dare,�
hissed Cuddy, glaring at him.

�� House
dropped his hands away from the head phones.�
Steepling his fingers, he adopted the beatific expression of a repentant
choir boy.

�� I
am not going to pretend that I don�t know why the two of you are suddenly at
each others throats,� she said, moving to seat herself on the edge of House�s
desk.� �But I am here to tell you both to
stop it.� Immediately.�

�� House
was still looking at her with an innocent look upon his face, Foreman was
staring sullenly down at the floor.

�� To
tell you the truth, I really don�t care how miserable you make each other.� I don�t even care that you make them miserable,� she said, gesturing
through the glass wall to indicate the three doctors who were studiously trying
not to be caught watching what was going on in the office.

�� However,
I do care when it starts to affect your patients.�

�� Now
Foreman was glaring at House, who was in turn looking up at the ceiling,
looking quite bored.

�� Dr.
Foreman,� she said, directing her gaze back in his direction.� �You told a patient that you were discharging
him because he was fine, that Dr. House was simply ordering a bunch of
unnecessary tests because he was �being an ass and jerking you around�.� Now, even if the patient had not collapsed
and nearly died on his way out of the hospital-�

�� Yeah,�
exclaimed House, �whaddup wit dat?�

�� Shut
up, House,� said Cuddy, not even
turning around to look at him.� �Even if
you had been right about the patient�s condition and Dr. House�s motivation,
that would not have justified what you did.�
If you have a problem with how Dr. House is conducting a case, you do
not talk to the patient about it, you come to me.�

�� Yeah,
right,� said Foreman, glaring up at her.�
�Come off it, Cuddy, you could never control him to begin with.� You think that, now that the two of you are
screwing each other, he�s going to suddenly start listening to you?�

�� A
deathly silence fell over the room.�
Cuddy slowly got to her feet and tossed the folder she had been holding
onto the desk.

�� Be
afraid, be very, very afraid,� whispered House, his eyes glimmering with
delight.

�� She
bent over and picked up a small memo pad and a pen from his desk.� In the silence, the sound of the pen
scratching across the surface of the paper could be clearly heard.

�� F-I-R-E-D,�
House murmured, helpfully.

�� Here
you go,� she said, tearing off the top sheet of paper and holding it out to
Foreman.� �This is the number for the
�Ethics Hotline�.� If you truly believe
that my relationship with Dr. House is affecting my judgment in this case, it
is your duty to report it,� she declared.

�� Foreman
stared at the sheet for several seconds, and then, with a barely perceptible
movement, shook his head.�

�� No.�

�� All
right,� she said, tossing the sheet, pad and pen onto the desk beside the
folder.� �I know that you are both at
fault here.� But, Dr. Foreman, I also
believe that you are smart enough to know that there was no way he was not going to retaliate when you started
to make annoying remarks to him regarding our relationship.�

�� She
sat down on the desk again.

�� I
am going to be out of town all next week, attending the convention in Atlanta,�
she said.� �But I promise you that I will
know if there continues to be problems.�

�� Someone
whose name rhymes with Shmilson going
to be spying on us?� asked House.

�� And
if these problems continue,� began Cuddy.�
Then she stopped, shook her head and crossed her arms. �I�m sorry, Dr.
Foreman, but I will have no choice but to put a formal letter of reprimand into
your personnel file.� Given your already
spotty employment record of the past year, I am sure you would prefer that I
not do that.�

�� Mom
always did like me best,� boasted House, smiling over at Foreman.

�� Of
course, since Dr. House already has a couple of file cabinets full of letters of reprimand, that would be no deterrent
to him,� she said, glancing angrily over her shoulder.� �Instead, I have already assigned him extra
clinic duty for the next four weeks.�

�� Hey,
that�s not fair,� House whined, pointing at Foreman, �he started it!�

�� And,
if he persists in his behavior, he�s going to find that his parking space is
located in Outer Mongolia,� she added.

�� House
opened his mouth to make another protest.

�� Shut
up, House!� hissed Cuddy, pushing herself off the desk again and reaching down
for the folder, �or you will have no
parking space and will be taking the bus in to work!�

�� Now,
on to other business,� she said, opening up the folder.� �I actually do want to talk to both of you
about the budget for next year.� I am
trying very hard to get a promotion and an increase in salary for Dr. Foreman,
so that he can be officially recognized as being �second-in-command� of this
department.�

�� If
you say a word,� she threatened, turning back to House, �I will see that he
gets his raise by making you take a
cut in pay.�

�� House
pouted and turned his chair so that he was facing away from them.

�� Dr.
Foreman, I am doing this because I truly do believe that you deserve this,� she
said.� �However, if you feel I am merely
bribing you in order to keep your mouth shut, I again urge you to contact the
Ethics Board.�

�� House
turned the chair back to face them and leaned on his elbows against the
desk.� �How much money would it take for
you to keep your mouth shut?� he asked Foreman, wonderingly.� �Might be cheaper in the long run,� he
whispered to Cuddy, out of the side of his mouth.

�� Shut
up, House,� said Foreman, rising to his feet.�
�Thank you, Dr. Cuddy.� I
apologize for my earlier outburst and for letting this situation get out of
hand.� It won�t happen again.�

�� Apology
accepted, Dr. Foreman,� she said, the corners of her mouth relaxing into the
hint of a smile.

�� Aaah,�
said House, standing up as well.� �Group
hug?� he asked tearfully, holding out his arms.

�� Cuddy
and Foreman both turned to glare at him.

�� Unfortunately,
I also need to speak to Dr. House alone for a moment,� she said, looking back
at Foreman.

�� Of
course,� he said, moving towards the door.�
�Have a good weekend,� he said, as he walked into the other room, �and
enjoy your time in Atlanta.�

�� Cuddy
turned to look at House, who had sat back down in his chair and was peering
around her, watching until the door had fully closed behind Foreman.

�� Nice
move,� he said, as she went to sit down in the chair that Foreman had just
vacated.� �Pretending
to give me extra clinic duty so he would feel better.�

�� You�re
an ass,� she said, tiredly, crossing her legs and placing the folder across her
lap.� �And you�re going to be covering
Monday mornings in the clinic for the next month,� she added.

�� Wasn�t
three times this week enough?� he protested, starting to pout again.� �I was even early for my shift on Monday.�

�� Uh-huh.� Of course, you also left early all three days
and were late showing up on the other two.�

�� Not
according to the sign-in sheet.�

�� No,
but that�s what happened according to Mary,� she replied.�� And she is a much more accurate source of
information for me.�

�� One
of those wasn�t my fault,� he assured her. �I had to go help resuscitate my
patient when he collapsed in the entryway. You know, it�s kind of bad for the
hospital�s image to have patients coming in and having to step over the dead
bodies of the people Foreman�s mistakenly discharged.�

�� Yeah,
and on the other hand it really burnishes our image to have them hear two doctors
calling each other names over the guy�s body as they�re working on him.� �Lazy megalomaniacal bastard� and �arrogant
son-of-a-bitch asshole� were the two I heard.�

�� Oh,
those are just our �friendly nicknames� for each other.� Like when I call you my-�

�� I�ve
heard what you call me,� she said, raising her finger in warning.� �Believe me, House,� everyone
snitches on you about that.�

�� Of
course, it�s not quite as much fun to call you that, now that I�m actually
getting to play with your squish mitten,� he frowned.

��
�� He
turned his head to the side to look through the glass into the staff room.

�� You
sure it�s a good idea to reward Foreman right now?� he asked.� �The next thing you know, the rest of my team
will be start shoving patients directly out the windows, figuring that�s the
way to get a promotion.�

�� I�ll
take my chances.� With any luck, they�ll
be smart enough to push you down a
stairwell or elevator shaft while they�re at it.�

�� Hmm,
maybe for my own safety you should take me with you to Atlanta?�
he asked.� �That way, you could make sure
that Foreman and I aren�t fighting next week.�

�� Right,�
she said, rolling her eyes.

�� We
could bunk together, since you already have the room.�

�� The
idea is to punish you, not me, House,� she said, reaching up to massage her
neck.

�� Oh,
and that�s right, you�re probably not going to be alone anyway,� said House,
frowning.� �Isn�t your Aunt Mabel due for
a visit next week?�

�� She
smiled at the sound of his favorite euphemism for her menstrual period.

�� Yes,
she is,� she replied.

�� Bummer
that she�s going to be there, ruining your fun,� he said, shaking his
head.� �I guess you won�t be wearing that
white string bikini in the hotel pool,� he added, looking disappointed.

�� I
don�t have a white string bikini,� she sputtered.

�� Well,
maybe you could wear this instead,� he said, reaching into one of the desk
drawers and pulling out a box.� Leaning
over, he pushed it to the other side of the desk.

�� Her
forehead wrinkled in a puzzled frown, she reached over to pick it up.� To her shock, she saw that it was a small,
rectangular box with the name of one of Princeton�s most
expensive jewelers embossed across the top.�
She looked back up at House, trying but failing to read the expression
on his face.� She could not imagine House
buying her any kind of jewelry, let alone something expensive.

�� What
in the world?� she began, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure no one
was watching as she opened the box.�� A moment
later, she was trying to stifle her laughter as she stared down at the
contents.

�� Carefully
arranged against the black velvet interior were a small cork and a large rubber
band upon which were pasted two Vicodin tablets.

�� Hey,
it was your suggestion,� said House, his own mouth breaking into a wide grin as
she turned the box over to dump the items into her palm.

�� No,
I suggested a string,� she said, looping the rubber band around both her hands
and pulling it taut.

�� Has
a little more give this way,� he said, leaning back in his chair.

�� Thanks,
but I don�t think I�ll be wearing this into the hotel pool either,� she said,
replacing the items in the box and pushing it back towards him.

�� Guess
I�ll just have to put it next to the jungle jockey shorts,� he said, taking the
box and putting it into his pocket.� �I
look forward to seeing you in either,� he added, as she rose from the chair.

�� I�ll
bet you do,� she said, throwing him a smile over her shoulder as she walked to
the door.

�� Of
course, you�ll let me know if the old girl ends up being a �no show�, won�t
you?� he asked.� �Because if she doesn�t
come for her visit, I guess that from now on I�m going to have to depend upon
my imagination.�

�� Yes,
Dr. House,� she said, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.� �I�ll let you know if we need to reschedule
that tentative meeting.�

�� He
watched her disappear down the hallway and then moved to replace the headphones
over his ears.� Turning the volume down,
he switched the power back on and settled back in his chair, closing his
eyes.� After a few minutes, he sighed and
opened his eyes, putting his hand into his pocket and retrieving the jewelry
box.� Opening it up, he took out the
rubber band and bit off one of the pills.�
Swallowing the medicine, he tossed the box onto the shelf and raised his
feet up to the desk, a very smug and contented smile appearing upon his face.

�� X�� X�� X�� X�� X�� X�� X�� X

Monday morning, ten days later

�� Since she had been gone for the
week, it had taken her the better part of the morning to catch up on her work
this Monday, despite coming in early as usual.�
She was just finishing up a stack of papers requiring her signature when
House came waltzing into her office and seated himself on her couch.

�� She
frowned and consulted her watch.�

�� It�s
eleven fifty-five,� she said,
glaring over at him.

�� Are
we synchronizing watches?� he asked, looking down at his own wrist.

�� You
are supposed to be covering in clinic until noon,�
she informed him, signing the last page and putting down her pen.

�� Hey,
if I had stayed to see another� patient I
might have ended up not being able to leave until five minutes after noon,� he informed her.

�� And
since you are here in my office now, you probably actually left the clinic at
eleven forty-five, which means you would have had plenty of time for that
ten-minute patient,� she argued back to him.

�� Two
weeks ago I was five minutes early checking in,� he reminded her.

�� That
makes up for leaving fifteen minutes early today?�

�� Sure,�
he said, looking surprised that she would even ask. �Because arriving early is
three times more responsible than leaving early.�� He tapped his cane impatiently against the
floor.� �Now, can we possibly move on to
a slightly more interesting topic?�

�� What
would that be?� she murmured, reaching over to pull a fresh stack of paperwork
in front of her.

�� Whether
or not Aunt Mabel put in an appearance last week,� he said, leaning over to
prop his chin on the cane handle.

�� You
have never asked me that before, House,� she said, smiling in bemusement as she
continued to leaf through the stack.

�� Because
when you�re here, I don�t need to ask,� he said.� �When you�re wearing extra perfume, chowing
down on salty snacks and making extra trips to the bathroom, it really isn�t a
mystery.�

�� Why
didn�t you just bribe the hotel staff to check my trash?� she asked, sitting
back in her chair and scowling at him.

�� I�ve
memorized enough Spanish to request a number of kinky sexual favors, but asking
someone to count tampon wrappers is beyond my repertoire, unfortunately,� he
admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

�� She
propped her elbows up on the arms of the chair and smiled at him.

�� I
normally wouldn�t pressure you like this,� he said, sitting back and twirling
his cane, �but I got called by a couple of hookers this morning, wondering if I
could help them meet their monthly quota.�
They were wondering if they could pencil me into their schedule for next
week, so-�

�� They
were interrupted by the ringing of her telephone.

�� Hold
that thought,� she told him, picking up the receiver while continuing to look
at him.

�� Lisa
Cuddy,� she answered, listening for a few seconds.� �Oh, hi, Bob,� she said, grimacing and
rolling her eyes at House, who in turn sighed loudly and threw himself back
against the couch cushions in disgust.��
�I got back late Saturday.� Really
good conference, yes.�

�� She
listened and nodded.

�� Why
do people nod when they�re on the telephone?��
House wondered, loudly.� �It�s not
like the other person can see you.�

�� Yes,
Bob, that�s Dr. House you�re hearing,� she said.� �Uh-huh, he�s real interested in the
conference also,� she said.

�� Looking
extremely annoyed, House rose to his feet and began to walk out of the room.

�� House,�
she said, placing her hand over the receiver, �hold on a minute.� Removing her
hand, she spoke back into the telephone.�
�Hey, Bob, I really hate to do this to you, but I�m going to have to
miss the board meeting next week.� Well,
I�m really sorry, especially because I missed the last one, too, but something
important has come up.�

�� House
had stopped and turned back to look at her, his eyebrows raised with interest.

�� I
got a visit from an aunt of mine while I was in Atlanta last week,� she told
him, �and there�s some urgent family business I need to attend to next Monday
evening.� Oh, thanks for understanding,
talk to you later, Bob,� she said, hanging up the phone.

�� So,�
she said, picking up the pen, �does that answer your question?�

�� Yep,�
he said, starting to walk back towards the door.

�� You
looked rather happy about the news,� she observed, chewing on the end of the
pen.

�� Hey,�
he said, opening the door, �as much as I�d love to help out the hookers, it�s really
great that I�m going to be getting another month of free sex.� I may even be able to pay off my Visa balance
before going back to the �working girls�.�

�� He
smiled and walked out looking once more exceptionally pleased with himself.

�� She
frowned and continued to gnaw on the pen as she watched him go through the
outer doors and finally disappear from sight around the corner.� Just as he did, her phone began to ring
again.� Glancing at the caller ID, she
smiled and reached over to answer it.

�� Hi,
Wilson,� she said, throwing the pen
back down upon the desk.

�� So,
I get to be myself this time?� he asked.

�� Yeah,
House is gone,� she replied.� �Thanks for
�being Bob� for me.�

�� Anytime,
I think.� What�s going on with you two?�

�� Oh,
nothing really.� He was just more
interested than usual in my fertility this month, and I figured the easiest way
to get him out of the office was to pretend I was talking to Smithers.�

�� She
sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.�
�And I�m really glad you called back, Wilson,
because I do have a big favor to ask you,� she said, opening her eyes.

�� What
do you need?� asked Wilson,
starting to sound a little hesitant.

�� Could
you possibly call Smithers for me and
tell him that I won�t be at the board meeting next week?� she asked.� �Give him the spiel about my having �family
business� to attend to.�

�� Which
I take it, is not exactly a lie?�

�� No,
not at all,� she said, shaking her head.�
�But if I call him, he�s going to want to bend my ear for at least an
hour talking about all the memos he sent while I was gone last week.�

�� Wilson
laughed.� �All right, but you owe me one.�

�� Add
it to the list,� she said, laughing.�
�Thanks again, Wilson.�

�� Talk
to you later, Cuddy.�
��
X��
X�� X�� X�� X�� X�� X�� X

Monday morning, seven days later

It was another Monday and she was
once again early in arriving to the hospital. This time, however, there was no
bounce in her step as she walked down the sidewalk towards the entrance, only a
weary determination. She was dressed professionally, in a particularly somber,
tailored suit, and she carried a briefcase in her hands.

She paused for a moment before
entering the lobby. Looking up at the rapidly darkening sky, she wondered if
she should return to her car and retrieve her umbrella in case she needed it
later in the day. After a moment of indecision, she shook her head and
proceeded through the door into the hospital.

Not stopping, as was her habit, to
pick up a cup of coffee from the cafeteria, she instead went directly to the
elevator and pressed the �Up� button. When the doors opened, she stepped back
as several people departed the car. One of them, a nurse she recognized from
ICU, paused to speak to her.

�Have you heard?� said the woman.

Cuddy nodded. �I got a phone call
from Taub on the way in. Is Clay still doing okay?�

The nurse nodded. �Yeah, he�s
holding his own. You going there now?� she asked.

�Yeah,� said Cuddy, stepping into
the car and punching the button for the floor. The doors closed and she leaned against
the rail, her briefcase in both hands in front of her as the elevator moved
upward.

There was no need to stop at her
office. She had last been there at eight-thirty yesterday evening, attending to
her email box and voice mail. After she finished checking in on the patients in
the ICU, she would be making her way towards House�s department.

For a department that was often
envied for having absolutely no patients to care for, the past week had been
particularly hellish. An hour and a half after House had left her office that
previous Monday morning, he had found himself with the first of three cases
that were going to keep him busy for the next week, and confirm his inherent
cynicism regarding the infinite capacity of human beings to inflict pain upon
one another.

The first case had been on Monday,
the patient a ten-year-old boy presenting with a wide variety of neurological
symptoms. It took House and his team only a few hours to come up with the diagnosis
of tertiary syphilis. But, as of Friday afternoon, the Health and Social
Welfare Departments had still been attempting to determine which of the boy�s �loving� circle of family and caregivers had been the
one to be sexually abusing him as a toddler.
.
The second case had been brought to
them on Tuesday by Wilson, when the
woman who was the prospective bone marrow donor for one of his patients had
suddenly begun manifesting a bizarre array of physical complaints. Since the
intended recipient, the donor�s sister, had just received full body irradiation
in preparation for the transplant, it was imperative that they try to resolve
the donor�s symptoms as soon as possible so that the operation could proceed
before the recipient succumbed to a fatal infection.

The team could not seem to find a
unifying cause that would account for the woman�s symptoms. After two days, it
had occurred to House that the explanation was that the donor was dosing
herself with a variety of over-the-counter medications and household cleansing
agents. Upon being confronted by House, the woman readily admitted that his
suspicions were true. In fact, she cold-bloodedly admitted that she had acted
out of spite, and that her deliberate intention had been to cause the death of
her weakened sibling. Far from feeling a sense of remorse for her actions, she
calmly told him that it really didn�t matter that he had discovered the plan in
time for her to still make the donation; she was now rescinding her consent for
the procedure. With no other family members available to donate in her place, Wilson
had been forced to use a partially-matched registry donor for the transplant.
House�s gloomy prognosis was that the recipient had been given a brief
reprieve, but was most probably doomed to die a long, lingering and painful
death from graft-versus-host disease.

On Thursday, House had been eating
lunch in Wilson�s office (well,
actually, he was eating Wilson�s
lunch) when his beeper had suddenly gone off. He had glanced at the number,
identified it as one of the ER extensions, and had nonchalantly returned to
wolfing down the tuna-fish sandwich, determined to finish it before Wilson
returned to his office. A second alarm had gone off a few seconds later. This
time House had looked down to see the message �POSSIBLE MACHUPO� written across
the display screen. In less than three minutes, he had somehow managed to make
it down to the Emergency Room, where Cameron was already implementing Biosafety
Level Four precautions.

Although he agreed with Cameron�s
initial assessment that the family�s display of petechiae and profuse bleeding
from the nose and gums was especially alarming due to the fact that their house
guest, who was also ill, had recently come from an area where Bolivian
Hemorrhagic Fever was endemic, it was not long before he was questioning the
diagnosis. The friend and the mother were making a remarkably swift recovery,
while the husband, fourteen-year-old daughter, ten-year-old son, and
eight-month-old twin boys were rapidly moving towards irreversible liver and
kidney failure.

A search of the home had revealed
the presence of a poisonous Bolivian plant. The house guest, a friend of the
husband�s since college, tearfully proclaimed that he had mistaken it for an
herb, and had in fact poisoned himself along with the rest of the family by
using it to season the special dish he had prepared the night before. An
investigation of the family�s trash, however, yielded a receipt showing that
the man had bought two large bottles of Ipecac earlier the previous morning.
Once the empty bottles of the emetic were found as well, it was apparent to
House that the guest and the wife had somehow had the foresight to make themselves throw up immediately after ingesting the
poisonous meal.

It took surprisingly little probing
to make both the wife and friend reveal that they were having an affair. The
fact that the husband was in possession of a considerable fortune made it
obvious that they had decided killing the family off was a much more convenient
and profitable solution to their predicament than the wife simply running off
with her lover.

Even with the administration of the
proper antidote, however, the other family members continued to become weaker
and sicker. The team protested that it had simply taken too much time to start
the proper treatment, but House insisted that there had to be another
underlying factor to explain the lack of response to the medicine. Finally,
after going into the husband�s room himself, and ripping off the layers of
biosafety precautions in order to shout directly into the patient�s ear, he had
finally been able to elicit a more detailed family history from the
barely-conscious man.

Having discovered that the man�s
mother had died of post-childbirth hemorrhage, he instructed the team to begin
testing the family for genetic coagulation disorders. The testing finally
revealed that the father and his children were all suffering from a rare form
of von Willebrand�s disease. With the family members
continuing to pour out blood as fast as it could be pumped in, House prescribed
heavy doses of a combination of experimental drugs. Although the family hovered
near death for the next twelve hours, it finally appeared that the medication
had started to work.

Unfortunately, for one of the eight-month-old
twins, the one named Carter, the treatment had not
been quick enough to prevent his death from liver failure.

She took in a deep breath and
straightened her shoulders as she waited for the elevator doors to open.
Stepping out of the car, she headed over to the Intensive Care Unit.
��
�� A half-hour
later, Cuddy was walking into the staff room of the Diagnostic Medicine
Department.� Kutner was sitting in a
chair, his head propped wearily in the palm of his hand.� Taub was in the chair across the table from
him, his eyes fixed upon the white board as he read the symptoms written upon
it over and over, as if trying convince himself that there was something more
that could have been done to diagnose and treat the family sooner.

�� Tough
week, guys,� she said, moving over to squeeze Kutner�s shoulder.� �Have you heard from Foreman and Thirteen?�
she asked, addressing this to Taub.

�� By
yesterday evening, when it was apparent that there was little to do but sit
back and hope that the treatment would work, House had told Foreman and
Thirteen to go home and get some rest.�
That way, they could be back at work this morning to relieve Taub and
Kutner.

�� Taub nodded, his eyes still on the board.� �They�re on their way in.� I gave them the news.�

�� As long as
Dr. Foreman clears it, the two of you should head on home after they get here,�
she advised.

�� What about
House?� asked Kutner, looking at her with bleary eyes.

�� I�m going
to tell him to go home, too,� she said, walking towards his office.

�� She paused
and peered through the glass.� He was
sitting with his legs crossed and propped on top of his overturned garbage
can.� There were pieces of paper and
other trash scattered around the floor, indicating he had not cared that the
can had not been empty when he decided to use it as a footrest.� His cane was propped sideways on his lap, and
although his head was lowered toward his chest and his eyes appeared to be
closed, she knew he was not sleeping.�
When she knocked on the door he did not jump or start but merely raised
his head slowly and turned to look in her direction.�� As she entered the room, she fancied that
she saw a small spark of gratefulness in his tired blue eyes as he watched her
approach, as if he were relieved that it was she, rather than one of his team,
walking into the room.

�� Do you
want some coffee?� she asked, quietly, as she set down the briefcase and sat in
the chair across from his desk.

�� No,� he
said, shaking his head and raising a hand to scratch his chin.� The stubble by this time was thick enough in
some areas as to begin forming curly patches of brown and grey.� �You just do the tour?� he asked.

�� Yeah,� she
said.� �The father�s doing fine-�� She stopped for a moment, wanting to add
that, of course, the improvement in his physical condition was more than
balanced by the shock and grief he was experiencing.� How fine could you be when you had to deal
with the fact your wife had poisoned you and your kids, and that she had
succeeded in killing one of them?

�� House
stared down at his cane, but did not say anything to fill in the gap left by
her sudden hesitation.

�� Clay�s BUN
and creatinine are way down, and the transaminases are falling,� she finally
said.� �The other kids are doing better,
too.� Lily is asking for something other
than a clear liquid diet and they�re having trouble keeping Tyler
in bed.�

�� They know
about their brother?� he asked, moving his head back and forth to work out the
kinks in his neck.

�� No,� she
said.� �We�re waiting for them to ask,
and when they do we�re going to have counselors in there with them while they
are told.� They think it�s
best that their father is there to comfort them, but not to tell them anything,
not just now.�

�� He nodded
again.� �Autopsy?� he asked, taking his
feet off of the garbage can as he began twirling his cane in his right hand.

�� She
sighed.� �The CDC is still insisting that
they remove the body and perform the autopsy under Level 4 precautions,� she
said.

�� Idiots,�
he said, suddenly pivoting his chair so that he could turn to sit at his
desk.� �It�s obviously not Machupo, or
three quarters of the hospital patients would have blood pouring out from every
orifice by now,� he groused, setting the cane down on his desk.

�� I know that,
and you know that,� she said, smiling at him.�
�I think even the CDC officials know that, but they are still going to
go through the recommended procedures.�

�� There was
another long silence.

�� Foreman
should be here soon,� she said, breaking the stillness after several
minutes.� �Why don�t you head on home?�

�� He turned
to glare at her.

�� I can�t,�
he informed her, �I�m due in clinic in ten minutes.�

�� Oh,� she
said, laughing softly, �no, you aren�t.�
Wang is going to fill in for you this morning.�

�� And you
only just now remembered to tell me that?� he asked, sounding more than
slightly miffed.

�� He just
returned my call a couple of minutes ago,� she explained.

�� House
narrowed his eyes.

�� And if he
wasn�t able to cover it for you, I would have done it myself,� she assured him,
standing up and leaning over the desk.

�� Go on, Superdoc,� she teased, as she winked and stroked her hand
gently over his, �go home and get some sleep.�

�� She turned
and began to walk to the door.

�� Hmm,� she
heard him murmur behind her.

�� She looked
back and saw that he was holding a desk calendar in his hands.� There were large red arrows drawn across it,
all pointing to the current date.� Cuddy
bent down to examine it more closely and saw that there was nothing written
inside the square to indicate what occasion was being marked.

�� Would you
possibly have an ulterior motive for urging me to go home and get some sleep?�
he asked, screwing up his mouth as he pointed at the calendar.� �Seems to me I�m supposed to be doing
something tonight, but I just can�t remember what it is,� he said, scratching
his head as he put the calendar back down on the desk.

�� You know,
it�s a funny thing,� she admitted, her puzzled tone a match for his own as she
sat down in the chair again.� �I seem to
have forgotten something myself.� For the
life of me, I can�t remember why I�m carrying this around,� she said, taking
something out of the pocket of her jacket.�

�� With a
grin, she set an unopened box containing a new toothbrush down on the desk.

�� Still got
a spot open for this?� she asked.

�� I think we
can squeeze it in,� he allowed, after studying it for a moment.

�� Could we
please put it next to the oral thermometer?� she begged.

�� You�re
awfully squeamish for a doctor,� he grumbled.�
�But, if you insist�� he shrugged.

�� So, we�re
on for tonight,� she said, standing up and retrieving the toothbrush from his
desk.� �Unless you�re just too
exhausted,� she added, looking at him with concern.

�� He shook his
head, but Cuddy suddenly sensed that he was avoiding looking her in the eye.

�� I�m never
too tired for that,� he assured her.

�� Glad to
hear it,� she said, putting the toothbrush back in her pocket.

�� He was
intently studying the surface of his desk.

�� Something
else?� she asked, taking a step back towards him.

�� You�re
welcome to come tonight,� he said, finally looking back up at her.� �I already have wine chilling in the
refrigerator and I even have fresh sheets on the bed,� he said.

�� Ooh, I�m getting
the royal treatment tonight,� she laughed.�
�Only fitting since I guess I�m supposed to be portraying �Sheena, Queen
of the Jungle�?� she teased.� �I assume
you still have the lingerie?�

�� He smiled for
just a moment before once again directing his gaze towards the desk, avoiding
looking her in the eyes.

�� I�m just
not sure that you will want to come tonight after you read this,� he said,
reaching down and pulling out the middle drawer.

�� He threw a piece
of 8 � by 11 paper, folded into quarters, onto the desk.

�� What�s
this?� she asked, bending down to pick it up.

�� Some lab
results that you might want to take a look at,� he advised her, raising his
eyebrows and looking slightly guilty as he sat back in his chair.

�� She slowly
sat down, trying to decide if he was being serious or if he was just about to
play another one of his elaborate jokes.

�� Well,� she
said, frowning for a moment, �I know you attended that �Hooker Convention� a
couple of weeks ago, but I assume you took a couple extra doses of penicillin.�

�� He shook
his head.� �Not an STD.�
��
�� She began
opening the paper, stopping after a moment and leaving it folded in half.

�� If this is
a psychological profile, I already know you�re insane,� she quipped.

�� Maybe more
than you know,� she heard him murmur.

�� She opened
the paper up completely, but took just a quick glance at the top of the page
before tossing it back at him.

�� House!�
she sputtered, shaking her head, �you really had me going there for a
moment.� All this fuss just to show me
your stupid semen analysis again!� Yes,
you are an amazingly fertile man!� she exclaimed, pushing the chair back as she
got to her feet.

�� He brought
the end of his cane down upon the paper and slid it back to her side of the
desk.

�� Look at it
again,� he said, his voice strangely quiet.

�� She bent
down and retrieved the paper.� Smoothing
it out, she glanced over the top of the page at him and then looked back down
at the report.

�� House, Gregory
�� Semen Analysis.
�� Type:� Post-Vasectomy
�� Sperm Count:� None seen
�� Conclusion:� Successful vasectomy, no further
contraception precautions necessary

�� She studied
the page for several minutes, bringing the page close to her eyes,
double-checking the date of birth to make sure it matched.� According to the report, the sample had been
collected and the test performed the previous Tuesday�� .

�� Finding
that her legs were suddenly feeling a little shaky, she lowered herself into
the chair and took in a deep breath.� She
read the report through several more times and then began to slowly fold it
back into quarters, taking care to carefully and mechanically crease the folds
with her thumb and forefinger.

�� So,� she
said, finally, as she set the paper back down on the desk.� �When did you have this done?�

�� The
surgery?� he asked.

�� Looking at
a space somewhere above and to the right of his face, she nodded.

�� Remember
those days I took off about a month ago?� he asked.

�� She nodded
again.

�� I had it
done then,� he said.�

�� She
considered this for several moments and then turned to gaze directly into his
face.

�� I see,�
she said, shortly.

�� Pretty
simple procedure,� he assured her, raising his hand and making a scissoring motion
with his fingers, �but I needed to take some time to recover.�

�� I guess
so,� she shrugged, slowing rising to her feet again, and picking up the
briefcase she had set on the floor.

�� That�s
it?� he asked, incredulously, leaning forward to pick up the folded lab
report.� �That�s the only question you�re
going to ask me:� when I had it done?�

�� Oh, I know
you must be just dying to tell me why
you had it done,� she hissed, her eyes suddenly gleaming with anger.� �But, somehow, I�m not exactly in the mood to
talk to you right now.� In fact, House,�
she said, leaning over the desk, �don�t expect me to be talking to you unless
it�s absolutely necessary for the next year or so.�

�� He leaned
back and scratched his beard again, clearing his throat. �Does that mean you
won�t be coming over to visit me tonight?�

�� Amazing deduction, Dr. House.� Or was that just another one of your
incredibly lucky hunches?�

�� She turned
away from him.

�� Shame to
let a good ovulation go to waste,� he called after her.� �You know Wilson
should be arriving in his office any minute now.� You might just persuade him to step in and-�

�� Don�t you
dare!� she warned, pivoting back towards him and crossing her arms over her
chest as she fought back her tears.�
�Don�t you dare make a joke right now.�

�� He� bit his lip and looked away, his left hand
rapidly clenching and unclenching as he suddenly appeared very
ill-at-ease.�

�� She took in
a few quick, pain-filled breaths and then, incredibly, she began to laugh.

�� The sound
of her laughter caused him to raise his eyes back to her face.

�� Cuddy?� he
asked, sounding concerned at the touch of hysteria in her tone.

�� He moved to
brace his hands against the arms of his desk chair.

�� Oh, no,� she
warned him, pointing her finger in his direction, �do not get out of that chair.�
Not unless you really want me to show you just how hard I can kick you,
House.�

�� He took one
look at the sharply pointed toes of her shoes and slunk back into his chair.

�� Don�t
worry,� she told him, turning away and walking towards the door.� �I�m not having a breakdown, it�s just that
this whole situation is so unbelievably funny,� she assured him, smiling and
shaking her head.

�� Whatever
reasons you had for having that little �out-patient procedure� done, I�m afraid
they don�t really matter now,� she said, shrugging her shoulders.� �Case of the barn door being shut long after
the horse has already bolted, House.� You
were a little late in shutting off that supply of �fresh, never-frozen sperm.�

�� What?� he
asked, sitting up in his chair as the meaning of her words hit him.

�� Remember
how I told you that I wouldn�t do a pregnancy test until I was absolutely sure
that I had missed my period?� Last
Monday, when you came into my office, I had just been about to step into the
bathroom and do the test.� I had waited
until I was driving in to work that morning to stop at the store to buy a
pregnancy kit, because I was finally sure that I had waited long enough.�

�� So I lied
to you,� she admitted.� �Well, that�s not
really true,� she said, wrinkling her forehead. �I didn�t really lie to you, I
just let you overhear me lie to someone else,� she qualified.� �Because, you see, no matter what the test
results were, I really did want to come visit you again tonight, but I wasn�t
sure yet if we would be meeting to procreate or to celebrate.�

�� She
shrugged her shoulders again.� �Stupid
me, I thought you�d be happy to hear that we finally managed to get me
pregnant.�

�� She opened
the door and strode out of the office.

�� House
remained seated at his desk, staring at the door long after it had closed
behind her.
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Torch Songs for Two