Matters of the Heart
Hey kids. When you write 174 stories some are going to be better than others. Suffice it to say, this is not my best effort, but I’ve been told many times that people prefer a crappy story to no story. Potential for a part 2, if you guys are feelin’ it. - atd
“Why is it that every time I ask you out, you ignore me?” Lucas said, following Cuddy down the PPTH hall.
“Because you’re not being serious,” Cuddy said. She was walking so quickly and purposefully, Lucas had the distinct impression she was trying to escape him.
“Your ability to walk quickly in those heels never ceases to amaze me,” he said, running to catch up. “And of course I’m serious. I never joke about matters of the heart.”
“Oh,” Cuddy said, wrinkling her nose. “Then I guess I always figured you were just asking me out to mess with House.”
“I have an alternate theory,” Lucas said. “You wanna hear it?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“I think you were dodging the question because you were waiting for a better offer.”
She finally stopped.
“I assume we’re still talking about House here?” Cuddy said.
“Exactly. I mean, I get it. He’s the rebel brooding guy in the back of the class with the leather jacket and the bad attitude who all the girls are swooning over. But trust me, the loveable and well-adjusted class clown is a much safer bet.”
“When did PPTH turn into a giant metaphor for high school?”
“When didn’t it?”
She smiled, despite herself.
“Good point.”
“But here’s the thing: House is never going to ask you out,” Lucas said.
Cuddy narrowed her eyes.
“I never said that I wanted him to. . .”
“You want to know why he’s never going to ask you out?”
“I’m guessing I still don’t have a choice…”
“He’s into you, don’t get me wrong. Any dude with a set of eyes and working penis would be…”
He looked up to see if she was offended, but she was so used to House’s provocations, it barely registered.
“But there’s one thing that House is more into than you,” Lucas continued. “And that’s his own misery. Dating you would make him happy, ergo he would no longer be miserable. Ergo, he wouldn’t recognize himself and he loves himself way too much not to recognize himself. So it’s never going to happen. With that in my mind, I ask you, sincerely and seriously: Lisa Cuddy, will you go out with me?”
Cuddy bit her lip.
“I’ll get back to you,” she said.
And she strutted away.
Lucas shrugged, as he watched her. “Hey, at least it wasn’t a no,” he said to no one in particular.
######
Cuddy sat down across from House at lunch. He looked down at her tray in dismay.
“Is it your diabolical plan to never put anything on your tray I might even remotely want to eat?” he said.
“Yes, that’s it, House. I eat healthily just to screw with you.”
“Figured so much,” he said. “But the joke’s on you, because French fries taste great when dunked in ranch dressing.”
He took his fry and dunked it with a flourish into her dressing.
Then he took a bite, made a face.
“There’s been some sort of horrible mistake,” he said. “There seems to be no buttercream in your ranch dressing.”
“It’s low-fat,” she said.
“And no-flavor,” he added.
They ate for a few minutes in companionable silence until she said, “So, um, something interesting happened today.”
“Something interesting happens every day.”
“This particular interesting thing happened to me. . .”
“Do tell...”
“I bumped into Lucas and he…” she eyed him cautiously- “well, he asked me out.”
He didn’t flinch.
“And when you stopped laughing, what did you say?”
“I didn’t laugh.”
“No?”
“No, Lucas is nice. And cute. . . well, from some angles at least. And he’s very persistent.”
“So’s a bible salesman.”
“I find him sort of adorable-in a puppyish way. So I was just wondering, well, how you felt about that?
“I think it’s a horrible idea,” House said.
Cuddy sighed a bit, relieved. “You do?”
“Need I remind you that you are the Dean of Medicine at a major hospital and he spies on people from a van?” House continued.
“Oh,” she said, looking down. Then she added: “You know I don’t care about stuff like that.”
“All women care about stuff like that.”
“Are you accusing me of being elitist?”
“Not elitist. Practical. People date within their own social strata for a reason.”
“Do tell, Ayn Rand.”
“The fact that you are more attractive than he is, more successful than he is, more wealthy than he is-it’s unsustainable. What does Lucas bring to the table, except for a lot of cool private eye gadgets and his Frequent Eater Card from Burger Giant?”
“He’s fun!” Cuddy said, defensively. Then she blinked. “So that’s your only objection to me going out with Lucas?”
He eyed her.
“Why else?” he said.
Her face fell.
“No, you’re right. No reason.” She popped up, unexpectedly. “Well, you’ve certainly given me a lot to think about, but I . . .I just remembered I have a 2 pm conference call.” She took her tray and walked away.
House put his head in his hands.
“Crap,” he groaned.
#####
“Ask me why I’m smiling!” Lucas said, walking into House’s office.
“Because Cuddy said yes,” House said, testily.
“Because Cuddy said y-.” Lucas started to say, then stopped. “Wait, how did you know that?”
“She told me.”
“She did?”
“Well, she told me you asked her out and that insufferable smile on your face was my next clue.”
“And you . . . gave it your blessing?”
“I don’t need to give Cuddy my blessing,” House said. “She’s a grown woman. A massively delusional one with horrible taste in men, obviously, but a grown woman.”
Lucas cocked his head.
“And us? We’re cool. Because I once asked you if you wanted me to back off from her and you were noncommittal. Of course, it’s a little late now. . .”
“We're fine. Both you and Cuddy can do whatever you want.”
Lucas looked at him, unconvinced, but decided to let it go.
“I am obviously punching way above my weight class here,” he said, cheerfully. “Any suggestions?”
“Yeah,” House said. “Don’t act like yourself.”
#####
The morning after Cuddy’s first date with Lucas, House cornered Wilson in the men’s room.
“You’re having lunch with Cuddy today, right?”
“Right.”
“I need you to get the intel on her date with Lucas. Be very specific. No detail is too small.”
“Why not ask just her yourself?”
“Duh. Because then it will seem like I’m jealous.”
“That’s because you are jealous.”
“I’m not jealous. I’m just …curious.”
“A month ago, you kissed her. Now she’s going on a date with Lucas. But no you’re not jealous. Just …curious.”
“Exactly. So will you do it?”
Wilson folded his arms.
“No.”
“No?”
“No. This is between you and Cuddy. Tell her how you really feel, before this gets out of hand.”
“You’re useless, as predicted,” House said. “Luckily, I already have Plan B in play.”
####
Plan B, as it turns out, was getting Sharon, the new candy striper, to eavesdrop on Wilson’s lunch with Cuddy from an adjacent table-and take notes.
House paid her $100 for the service.
She came to his office right after.
“So?” he said to her.
“You owe me $126.52,” she said.
“We settled on a hundred!” he protested.
“I had to eat lunch, right? Otherwise, I’d look suspicious.”
“I wasn’t aware the hospital cafeteria sold lobster,” he said, rolling his eyes. But he handed her the money.
“So speak,” he said.
She pulled out her note pad.
“Wilson ordered the turkey club. Cuddy ordered the cobb salad.”
“Don’t care. Tell me about Lucas.”
She flipped a few pages.
“Wilson said, ‘How was the big date?’ and she said, ‘It was fine.’”
“It was fine?” House said. “Those were her exact words?”
She glanced at her notes. “Yes,” she said. “And then Wilson said, ‘Just fine?’ and she said, ‘Fine…with potential to be more than fine.’”
“Shit,” House said, under his breath. “Did she say where he took her?”
She scanned her notes.
“Giovanni’s,” she said.
“Huh,” House said. “Nice place. What else?”
“Wilson asked if things got physical.”
“Don’t bury the lead, woman! What did she say?”
“She said, ‘It’s funny, I used to get a slightly pervy vibe off Lucas, but he was a total gentleman. He didn’t even try to kiss me goodnight.’”
“Excellent. I knew Lucas didn’t have it in him. So did my name come up?”
“As a matter of fact it did. Wilson said that you were ‘totally freaking out’ over the date.”
House shook his head.
“That goddamn Judas. And how did Cuddy respond?”
“She said that she gave you a chance to object and ask her out yourself but you p-” she squinted at her notes, briefly unable to read her own handwriting-“you pussied out,” she said, triumphantly.
House folded his arms.
“So did they schedule a second date?”
“Yes, Friday night. At the Hamilton Inn.”
“Excellent work. Ironically, you’re a better private eye than Lucas is.”
######
The date at the Hamilton Inn was going well, with conversation flowing as Lucas regaled Cuddy with tales of his misadventures as a private eye. They had just ordered a second bottle of pinot grigio, and Cuddy was thinking, “So it is possible to enjoy the company of a man who is not Gregory House” when her pager went off.
She looked down.
“Sorry, it’s the hospital. I’ve got to take this.”
But when she called back, it was House who answered.
“I need you back at the hospital,” he said. “It’s an emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?” she said, skeptically. “We ran out of Snickers bars in the vending machine?”
“No, I need to cut part of my patient’s stomach out. Figured you might want to know. . .”
“You need to do that right now? This exact instant?”
“Assuming you want the guy to live. Otherwise, we can do it during the autopsy I suppose.”
She sighed.
“I’ll be there in 20 minutes,” she said.
“Make it 15,” he said.
Cuddy hung up, looked at Lucas apologetically.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Hospital emergency?” he said.
“It happens. Occupational hazard.”
“Hey, I understand. You’re a powerful woman. I like it. It’s a turn on.”
She smiled wearily and stood, as Lucas helped her on with her coat.
“Any chance you can join me later on, at my place, for a nightcap?” he asked hopefully.
She looked at her watch. “It’s late. I’ll probably just head home straight from the hospital.”
“Oh well, can’t blame a guy for asking,” he said.
Then he said, brightly: “It’s your turn to pay so can you give me $150 before you go?”
Her eyes widened.
“Uh…sure,” she said, reaching for her purse.
“I’m just messing with you,” he laughed. “Go. Be important.”
She gave an uneasy smile, and quickly drove to the hospital.
But when she got to House’s office, his team wasn’t assembled, and there wasn’t a surgeon in sight. In fact, House was sitting at his desk, his glasses perched halfway down his nose, reading a medical journal.
“Oh hi,” he said when he saw her.
“Oh hi? I just raced over here from downtown. What about your patient? I thought he was in crisis?”
“False alarm. Turns out it wasn’t acute bowel obstruction. It was just gas.”
“You knew I was on a date with Lucas and you intentionally sabotaged it!”
“I made an honest mistake.”
“There’s nothing honest about you-ever,” she said.
He grimaced.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know.”
“Come on, don’t be mad. Okay, it’s true. I knew you were on a date. Lucas and I like to screw with each other. It’s what we do.”
“You were screwing with Lucas and yet I’m the one who had to leave a half-eaten duck breast on my plate and speed across town like a maniac for nothing!”
“Collateral damage,” he said.
“I’m not amused.”
“Don’t pout, Cuddy. Lemme buy you a burger,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual. “To make up for it.”
“Screw you,” she said, storming out.
“Well, better me than Lucas,” he said, after she was gone.
####
Lucas and Cuddy were on their third date, at Chez Jacques, when the sound of particularly loud woman’s laughter pierced the room. Lucas looked up.
“Isn’t that woman with House?” he said.
Indeed, sitting at a corner table-candlelight, a bottle of wine- was none other than Gregory House. The woman sitting across from him had teased blonde hair and was wearing red stiletto pumps and a skirt the size of a postage stamp. She was beautiful, in a tacky sort of way. She was also, quite obviously, a prostitute.
“Is that his date?” Lucas said. “Because whoa. She’s a knockout.”
“She could be your date, too. For the right price.”
“She’s a hooker?” Lucas said, squinting.
“Of course,” Cuddy said. “What kind of private eye are you? House is trying to disrupt our date. Again. I’ve really got to start planting false intel in my online datebook.”
“You think he hacked into your account?” Lucas said, mildly impressed.
“He’s done it before.”
“Do you want me to go tell him to buzz off?”
“No, I’m not going to let him ruin our evening,” she said, picking up her menu defiantly. “Let’s just pretend he’s not here.”
“Sounds like an excellent plan.”
They ordered and ate dinner, but Cuddy kept glancing in House’s direction. The woman kept laughing loudly and they would occasionally clink glasses, in shared merriment. At one point, under the table, she could see that House and his “date” were playing footsie.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
She marched up to House’s table. He pretended to be surprised to see her.
“You come here too?” he said. Then, “How rude of me: Cuddy, Brandy. Brandy, Cuddy.”
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Cuddy said, a fake smile frozen on her face.
“Me or Brandy?” House said.
“Outside, right now,” Cuddy said, grabbing House by the collar.
“Excusez moi,” House said, bowing at Brandy and letting himself be dragged.
“Life is just full of strange coincidences, isn’t it?” he said, once they were outside. “You’re here on a date. I’m here on a date…”
“You hacked into my datebook,” Cuddy said. “Again.”
House grinned.
“You’d think by now you’d learn to plant false intel in that thing.”
“So this is you messing with Lucas again?”
He shrugged.
“No, I suppose this time I’m messing with you,”
“You think I’m going to be jealous of that…skank?”
“High-class skank, thank you very much.”
“At least I don’t have to pay for my dates,” Cuddy said.
“I think spending time with Lucas is price enough,” he said.
“Really? Because I think he’s great. Fun, attentive…uh, sexy.”
“Once more with feeling, Cuddy.”
“It would seem that we’re both getting laid tonight,” Cuddy said, with a knowing smirk.
“Don’t have sex with Lucas just to spite me,” House said seriously, folding his arms.
“I’m not spiting you. I’m into him. Besides, why should only one of us have sex tonight?”
“Brandy was just hired for dinner.”
“Suuure she was.”
“I’m serious, Cuddy. All games aside. Please don’t. . .”
“Is everything okay out here?” Lucas said, poking his head out of the restaurant door.
“We need a minute!” House barked.
“Actually, we're all done,” Cuddy said, taking Lucas’s arm. “Let’s order dessert.”
######
About an hour-and-a-half later, there was the sound of a motorcycle engine being cut, and then a knock on Cuddy’s front door.
“That’s House, isn’t it?” Lucas said. They were sitting on the couch in front of the fire, both fully dressed, drinking brandy. “I’ll get rid of him.”
“No, I’ll handle it,” she said.
She answered the door.
“Go away, House.”
“Cuddy, I’m going crazy here,” he said.
There was something slightly agitated in his eyes and he was sweating, like he had worked himself into a bit of a lather. It made Cuddy soften.
“Why?” she said, pointedly.
He peered into the room.
“Has anything happened yet?”
“Lots has happened. We put on some Brahms. We made a fire. I poured us a couple of glasses of brandy. I thought that last bit was poetic.”
“Tell him to leave,” House said.
“Where’s your Brandy?”
“Who knows? Nothing happened. I swear it.”
“I don’t care if it did or didn’t.”
“Yes you do,” he said, looking at her.
She swallowed, looked down.
“Why do you keep messing with me, House?”
“I don’t know,” he said truthfully.
“Two weeks ago I asked if you minded if I dated Lucas. You gave me a spiel about social strata and unsustainability. Not once did you utter the words: I want you for myself.”
“Because I don’t need to say that,” he said. “You know how I feel.”
“Humor me.”
He clenched his jaw a bit.
“I don’t want you with Lucas.”
“And?”
“I’m insanely jealous.”
“And?”
He hesitated.
“I want you for myself,” he said.
She suddenly felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her lips parted, almost unconsciously.
“I want to be the only man who touches you,” he whispered in her ear. His breath was hot on her neck. “Ever again.”
They were both breathing harder now, their chests heaving in unison. She felt herself vibrating a bit, just from his nearness.
“Then touch me,” she said.
He caressed her face for a moment and then her neck, which she stretched, like a cat, and his hand moved slowly to her cleavage and she then dove for him, her tongue rammed in his mouth, their bodies pressed against the door frame. She had wrapped her leg around him and was just starting to reach under his shirt, grope for bare skin, when a voice said, loudly. “What the living fuck?”
They stopped.
“Shit,” Cuddy said. “Lucas.”
“Did you actually forget I was in the next room?” Lucas said, disbelievingly.
In fact, she had.
“No, I… of course not. I … House just grabbed me and kissed me. It was …”
“Totally my fault,” House said.
“He forced you to grope him?”
“We got carried away,” Cuddy said. “I’m sorry. I’m totally embarrassed.”
“You should be,” Lucas said. “You’re acting like a slut.”
“Hey now,” House said, stepping toward him threateningly.
“You’ve got to be kidding if you think you have the moral high ground in this situation,” Lucas said.
“She was mine first,” House said.
“Hey! I’m not anyone’s!” Cuddy said. And then she bowed her head. “But he’s right, Lucas. As you know, House and I have a long . . . history together.”
“Oh, in that case, this behavior is completely acceptable.”
“I’m not saying it is. I’m mortified. I can’t apologize enough.”
“Don’t bother,” Lucas said. “I’m out of here.”
He brushed past House, roughly. But House held up his hands, and stepped back, as if to say, I don’t want to fight.
“Remember what I said, Lisa,” Lucas said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
And he made his way angrily to his car.
“I thought he’d never leave,” House cracked.
“Not funny,” Cuddy said.
“No, I suppose not.” Then he bent toward her, eagerly. “Now where were we?” He went to kiss her, but she put her hand to his chest.
“Forget it Romeo.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he groaned
“No, I’m not. You hack into my computer, stalk me, sabotage my date-and your reward is I have sex with you? Dream on.”
“Ten minutes ago, you were crawling up my leg!”
“And now I’ve come to my senses, thank God.”
“Damn that Lucas,” House said. “Such a mood killer. And what did he mean when he said, ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you?’ That was so . . . cheesy.”
“He thinks you prefer misery to happiness.”
“Only one way to find out,” House said, with a half smile.
He bent to kiss her and just for a second, she melted into him, allowing herself the sensation of his lips and tongue and body against hers. Then she backed away.
“You’re going to have to be miserable for at least one more night.”
“Tomorrow then?”
“Not until you do what you should’ve done two weeks ago-hell, the day after I lost Joy and we kissed. Ask me out. On a date. With tablecloths and wine and witty repartee.”
He smiled, in defeat.
“Lisa Cuddy, will you go out with me? With tablecloths and wine and my best impression of witty repartee.”
“I’ll get back to you,” she said, and winked.
To be continued? This one could end here, or I could keep going with it. Depends on reader response, tbh…
“Why is it that every time I ask you out, you ignore me?” Lucas said, following Cuddy down the PPTH hall.
“Because you’re not being serious,” Cuddy said. She was walking so quickly and purposefully, Lucas had the distinct impression she was trying to escape him.
“Your ability to walk quickly in those heels never ceases to amaze me,” he said, running to catch up. “And of course I’m serious. I never joke about matters of the heart.”
“Oh,” Cuddy said, wrinkling her nose. “Then I guess I always figured you were just asking me out to mess with House.”
“I have an alternate theory,” Lucas said. “You wanna hear it?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“I think you were dodging the question because you were waiting for a better offer.”
She finally stopped.
“I assume we’re still talking about House here?” Cuddy said.
“Exactly. I mean, I get it. He’s the rebel brooding guy in the back of the class with the leather jacket and the bad attitude who all the girls are swooning over. But trust me, the loveable and well-adjusted class clown is a much safer bet.”
“When did PPTH turn into a giant metaphor for high school?”
“When didn’t it?”
She smiled, despite herself.
“Good point.”
“But here’s the thing: House is never going to ask you out,” Lucas said.
Cuddy narrowed her eyes.
“I never said that I wanted him to. . .”
“You want to know why he’s never going to ask you out?”
“I’m guessing I still don’t have a choice…”
“He’s into you, don’t get me wrong. Any dude with a set of eyes and working penis would be…”
He looked up to see if she was offended, but she was so used to House’s provocations, it barely registered.
“But there’s one thing that House is more into than you,” Lucas continued. “And that’s his own misery. Dating you would make him happy, ergo he would no longer be miserable. Ergo, he wouldn’t recognize himself and he loves himself way too much not to recognize himself. So it’s never going to happen. With that in my mind, I ask you, sincerely and seriously: Lisa Cuddy, will you go out with me?”
Cuddy bit her lip.
“I’ll get back to you,” she said.
And she strutted away.
Lucas shrugged, as he watched her. “Hey, at least it wasn’t a no,” he said to no one in particular.
######
Cuddy sat down across from House at lunch. He looked down at her tray in dismay.
“Is it your diabolical plan to never put anything on your tray I might even remotely want to eat?” he said.
“Yes, that’s it, House. I eat healthily just to screw with you.”
“Figured so much,” he said. “But the joke’s on you, because French fries taste great when dunked in ranch dressing.”
He took his fry and dunked it with a flourish into her dressing.
Then he took a bite, made a face.
“There’s been some sort of horrible mistake,” he said. “There seems to be no buttercream in your ranch dressing.”
“It’s low-fat,” she said.
“And no-flavor,” he added.
They ate for a few minutes in companionable silence until she said, “So, um, something interesting happened today.”
“Something interesting happens every day.”
“This particular interesting thing happened to me. . .”
“Do tell...”
“I bumped into Lucas and he…” she eyed him cautiously- “well, he asked me out.”
He didn’t flinch.
“And when you stopped laughing, what did you say?”
“I didn’t laugh.”
“No?”
“No, Lucas is nice. And cute. . . well, from some angles at least. And he’s very persistent.”
“So’s a bible salesman.”
“I find him sort of adorable-in a puppyish way. So I was just wondering, well, how you felt about that?
“I think it’s a horrible idea,” House said.
Cuddy sighed a bit, relieved. “You do?”
“Need I remind you that you are the Dean of Medicine at a major hospital and he spies on people from a van?” House continued.
“Oh,” she said, looking down. Then she added: “You know I don’t care about stuff like that.”
“All women care about stuff like that.”
“Are you accusing me of being elitist?”
“Not elitist. Practical. People date within their own social strata for a reason.”
“Do tell, Ayn Rand.”
“The fact that you are more attractive than he is, more successful than he is, more wealthy than he is-it’s unsustainable. What does Lucas bring to the table, except for a lot of cool private eye gadgets and his Frequent Eater Card from Burger Giant?”
“He’s fun!” Cuddy said, defensively. Then she blinked. “So that’s your only objection to me going out with Lucas?”
He eyed her.
“Why else?” he said.
Her face fell.
“No, you’re right. No reason.” She popped up, unexpectedly. “Well, you’ve certainly given me a lot to think about, but I . . .I just remembered I have a 2 pm conference call.” She took her tray and walked away.
House put his head in his hands.
“Crap,” he groaned.
#####
“Ask me why I’m smiling!” Lucas said, walking into House’s office.
“Because Cuddy said yes,” House said, testily.
“Because Cuddy said y-.” Lucas started to say, then stopped. “Wait, how did you know that?”
“She told me.”
“She did?”
“Well, she told me you asked her out and that insufferable smile on your face was my next clue.”
“And you . . . gave it your blessing?”
“I don’t need to give Cuddy my blessing,” House said. “She’s a grown woman. A massively delusional one with horrible taste in men, obviously, but a grown woman.”
Lucas cocked his head.
“And us? We’re cool. Because I once asked you if you wanted me to back off from her and you were noncommittal. Of course, it’s a little late now. . .”
“We're fine. Both you and Cuddy can do whatever you want.”
Lucas looked at him, unconvinced, but decided to let it go.
“I am obviously punching way above my weight class here,” he said, cheerfully. “Any suggestions?”
“Yeah,” House said. “Don’t act like yourself.”
#####
The morning after Cuddy’s first date with Lucas, House cornered Wilson in the men’s room.
“You’re having lunch with Cuddy today, right?”
“Right.”
“I need you to get the intel on her date with Lucas. Be very specific. No detail is too small.”
“Why not ask just her yourself?”
“Duh. Because then it will seem like I’m jealous.”
“That’s because you are jealous.”
“I’m not jealous. I’m just …curious.”
“A month ago, you kissed her. Now she’s going on a date with Lucas. But no you’re not jealous. Just …curious.”
“Exactly. So will you do it?”
Wilson folded his arms.
“No.”
“No?”
“No. This is between you and Cuddy. Tell her how you really feel, before this gets out of hand.”
“You’re useless, as predicted,” House said. “Luckily, I already have Plan B in play.”
####
Plan B, as it turns out, was getting Sharon, the new candy striper, to eavesdrop on Wilson’s lunch with Cuddy from an adjacent table-and take notes.
House paid her $100 for the service.
She came to his office right after.
“So?” he said to her.
“You owe me $126.52,” she said.
“We settled on a hundred!” he protested.
“I had to eat lunch, right? Otherwise, I’d look suspicious.”
“I wasn’t aware the hospital cafeteria sold lobster,” he said, rolling his eyes. But he handed her the money.
“So speak,” he said.
She pulled out her note pad.
“Wilson ordered the turkey club. Cuddy ordered the cobb salad.”
“Don’t care. Tell me about Lucas.”
She flipped a few pages.
“Wilson said, ‘How was the big date?’ and she said, ‘It was fine.’”
“It was fine?” House said. “Those were her exact words?”
She glanced at her notes. “Yes,” she said. “And then Wilson said, ‘Just fine?’ and she said, ‘Fine…with potential to be more than fine.’”
“Shit,” House said, under his breath. “Did she say where he took her?”
She scanned her notes.
“Giovanni’s,” she said.
“Huh,” House said. “Nice place. What else?”
“Wilson asked if things got physical.”
“Don’t bury the lead, woman! What did she say?”
“She said, ‘It’s funny, I used to get a slightly pervy vibe off Lucas, but he was a total gentleman. He didn’t even try to kiss me goodnight.’”
“Excellent. I knew Lucas didn’t have it in him. So did my name come up?”
“As a matter of fact it did. Wilson said that you were ‘totally freaking out’ over the date.”
House shook his head.
“That goddamn Judas. And how did Cuddy respond?”
“She said that she gave you a chance to object and ask her out yourself but you p-” she squinted at her notes, briefly unable to read her own handwriting-“you pussied out,” she said, triumphantly.
House folded his arms.
“So did they schedule a second date?”
“Yes, Friday night. At the Hamilton Inn.”
“Excellent work. Ironically, you’re a better private eye than Lucas is.”
######
The date at the Hamilton Inn was going well, with conversation flowing as Lucas regaled Cuddy with tales of his misadventures as a private eye. They had just ordered a second bottle of pinot grigio, and Cuddy was thinking, “So it is possible to enjoy the company of a man who is not Gregory House” when her pager went off.
She looked down.
“Sorry, it’s the hospital. I’ve got to take this.”
But when she called back, it was House who answered.
“I need you back at the hospital,” he said. “It’s an emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?” she said, skeptically. “We ran out of Snickers bars in the vending machine?”
“No, I need to cut part of my patient’s stomach out. Figured you might want to know. . .”
“You need to do that right now? This exact instant?”
“Assuming you want the guy to live. Otherwise, we can do it during the autopsy I suppose.”
She sighed.
“I’ll be there in 20 minutes,” she said.
“Make it 15,” he said.
Cuddy hung up, looked at Lucas apologetically.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Hospital emergency?” he said.
“It happens. Occupational hazard.”
“Hey, I understand. You’re a powerful woman. I like it. It’s a turn on.”
She smiled wearily and stood, as Lucas helped her on with her coat.
“Any chance you can join me later on, at my place, for a nightcap?” he asked hopefully.
She looked at her watch. “It’s late. I’ll probably just head home straight from the hospital.”
“Oh well, can’t blame a guy for asking,” he said.
Then he said, brightly: “It’s your turn to pay so can you give me $150 before you go?”
Her eyes widened.
“Uh…sure,” she said, reaching for her purse.
“I’m just messing with you,” he laughed. “Go. Be important.”
She gave an uneasy smile, and quickly drove to the hospital.
But when she got to House’s office, his team wasn’t assembled, and there wasn’t a surgeon in sight. In fact, House was sitting at his desk, his glasses perched halfway down his nose, reading a medical journal.
“Oh hi,” he said when he saw her.
“Oh hi? I just raced over here from downtown. What about your patient? I thought he was in crisis?”
“False alarm. Turns out it wasn’t acute bowel obstruction. It was just gas.”
“You knew I was on a date with Lucas and you intentionally sabotaged it!”
“I made an honest mistake.”
“There’s nothing honest about you-ever,” she said.
He grimaced.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know.”
“Come on, don’t be mad. Okay, it’s true. I knew you were on a date. Lucas and I like to screw with each other. It’s what we do.”
“You were screwing with Lucas and yet I’m the one who had to leave a half-eaten duck breast on my plate and speed across town like a maniac for nothing!”
“Collateral damage,” he said.
“I’m not amused.”
“Don’t pout, Cuddy. Lemme buy you a burger,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual. “To make up for it.”
“Screw you,” she said, storming out.
“Well, better me than Lucas,” he said, after she was gone.
####
Lucas and Cuddy were on their third date, at Chez Jacques, when the sound of particularly loud woman’s laughter pierced the room. Lucas looked up.
“Isn’t that woman with House?” he said.
Indeed, sitting at a corner table-candlelight, a bottle of wine- was none other than Gregory House. The woman sitting across from him had teased blonde hair and was wearing red stiletto pumps and a skirt the size of a postage stamp. She was beautiful, in a tacky sort of way. She was also, quite obviously, a prostitute.
“Is that his date?” Lucas said. “Because whoa. She’s a knockout.”
“She could be your date, too. For the right price.”
“She’s a hooker?” Lucas said, squinting.
“Of course,” Cuddy said. “What kind of private eye are you? House is trying to disrupt our date. Again. I’ve really got to start planting false intel in my online datebook.”
“You think he hacked into your account?” Lucas said, mildly impressed.
“He’s done it before.”
“Do you want me to go tell him to buzz off?”
“No, I’m not going to let him ruin our evening,” she said, picking up her menu defiantly. “Let’s just pretend he’s not here.”
“Sounds like an excellent plan.”
They ordered and ate dinner, but Cuddy kept glancing in House’s direction. The woman kept laughing loudly and they would occasionally clink glasses, in shared merriment. At one point, under the table, she could see that House and his “date” were playing footsie.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
She marched up to House’s table. He pretended to be surprised to see her.
“You come here too?” he said. Then, “How rude of me: Cuddy, Brandy. Brandy, Cuddy.”
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Cuddy said, a fake smile frozen on her face.
“Me or Brandy?” House said.
“Outside, right now,” Cuddy said, grabbing House by the collar.
“Excusez moi,” House said, bowing at Brandy and letting himself be dragged.
“Life is just full of strange coincidences, isn’t it?” he said, once they were outside. “You’re here on a date. I’m here on a date…”
“You hacked into my datebook,” Cuddy said. “Again.”
House grinned.
“You’d think by now you’d learn to plant false intel in that thing.”
“So this is you messing with Lucas again?”
He shrugged.
“No, I suppose this time I’m messing with you,”
“You think I’m going to be jealous of that…skank?”
“High-class skank, thank you very much.”
“At least I don’t have to pay for my dates,” Cuddy said.
“I think spending time with Lucas is price enough,” he said.
“Really? Because I think he’s great. Fun, attentive…uh, sexy.”
“Once more with feeling, Cuddy.”
“It would seem that we’re both getting laid tonight,” Cuddy said, with a knowing smirk.
“Don’t have sex with Lucas just to spite me,” House said seriously, folding his arms.
“I’m not spiting you. I’m into him. Besides, why should only one of us have sex tonight?”
“Brandy was just hired for dinner.”
“Suuure she was.”
“I’m serious, Cuddy. All games aside. Please don’t. . .”
“Is everything okay out here?” Lucas said, poking his head out of the restaurant door.
“We need a minute!” House barked.
“Actually, we're all done,” Cuddy said, taking Lucas’s arm. “Let’s order dessert.”
######
About an hour-and-a-half later, there was the sound of a motorcycle engine being cut, and then a knock on Cuddy’s front door.
“That’s House, isn’t it?” Lucas said. They were sitting on the couch in front of the fire, both fully dressed, drinking brandy. “I’ll get rid of him.”
“No, I’ll handle it,” she said.
She answered the door.
“Go away, House.”
“Cuddy, I’m going crazy here,” he said.
There was something slightly agitated in his eyes and he was sweating, like he had worked himself into a bit of a lather. It made Cuddy soften.
“Why?” she said, pointedly.
He peered into the room.
“Has anything happened yet?”
“Lots has happened. We put on some Brahms. We made a fire. I poured us a couple of glasses of brandy. I thought that last bit was poetic.”
“Tell him to leave,” House said.
“Where’s your Brandy?”
“Who knows? Nothing happened. I swear it.”
“I don’t care if it did or didn’t.”
“Yes you do,” he said, looking at her.
She swallowed, looked down.
“Why do you keep messing with me, House?”
“I don’t know,” he said truthfully.
“Two weeks ago I asked if you minded if I dated Lucas. You gave me a spiel about social strata and unsustainability. Not once did you utter the words: I want you for myself.”
“Because I don’t need to say that,” he said. “You know how I feel.”
“Humor me.”
He clenched his jaw a bit.
“I don’t want you with Lucas.”
“And?”
“I’m insanely jealous.”
“And?”
He hesitated.
“I want you for myself,” he said.
She suddenly felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her lips parted, almost unconsciously.
“I want to be the only man who touches you,” he whispered in her ear. His breath was hot on her neck. “Ever again.”
They were both breathing harder now, their chests heaving in unison. She felt herself vibrating a bit, just from his nearness.
“Then touch me,” she said.
He caressed her face for a moment and then her neck, which she stretched, like a cat, and his hand moved slowly to her cleavage and she then dove for him, her tongue rammed in his mouth, their bodies pressed against the door frame. She had wrapped her leg around him and was just starting to reach under his shirt, grope for bare skin, when a voice said, loudly. “What the living fuck?”
They stopped.
“Shit,” Cuddy said. “Lucas.”
“Did you actually forget I was in the next room?” Lucas said, disbelievingly.
In fact, she had.
“No, I… of course not. I … House just grabbed me and kissed me. It was …”
“Totally my fault,” House said.
“He forced you to grope him?”
“We got carried away,” Cuddy said. “I’m sorry. I’m totally embarrassed.”
“You should be,” Lucas said. “You’re acting like a slut.”
“Hey now,” House said, stepping toward him threateningly.
“You’ve got to be kidding if you think you have the moral high ground in this situation,” Lucas said.
“She was mine first,” House said.
“Hey! I’m not anyone’s!” Cuddy said. And then she bowed her head. “But he’s right, Lucas. As you know, House and I have a long . . . history together.”
“Oh, in that case, this behavior is completely acceptable.”
“I’m not saying it is. I’m mortified. I can’t apologize enough.”
“Don’t bother,” Lucas said. “I’m out of here.”
He brushed past House, roughly. But House held up his hands, and stepped back, as if to say, I don’t want to fight.
“Remember what I said, Lisa,” Lucas said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
And he made his way angrily to his car.
“I thought he’d never leave,” House cracked.
“Not funny,” Cuddy said.
“No, I suppose not.” Then he bent toward her, eagerly. “Now where were we?” He went to kiss her, but she put her hand to his chest.
“Forget it Romeo.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he groaned
“No, I’m not. You hack into my computer, stalk me, sabotage my date-and your reward is I have sex with you? Dream on.”
“Ten minutes ago, you were crawling up my leg!”
“And now I’ve come to my senses, thank God.”
“Damn that Lucas,” House said. “Such a mood killer. And what did he mean when he said, ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you?’ That was so . . . cheesy.”
“He thinks you prefer misery to happiness.”
“Only one way to find out,” House said, with a half smile.
He bent to kiss her and just for a second, she melted into him, allowing herself the sensation of his lips and tongue and body against hers. Then she backed away.
“You’re going to have to be miserable for at least one more night.”
“Tomorrow then?”
“Not until you do what you should’ve done two weeks ago-hell, the day after I lost Joy and we kissed. Ask me out. On a date. With tablecloths and wine and witty repartee.”
He smiled, in defeat.
“Lisa Cuddy, will you go out with me? With tablecloths and wine and my best impression of witty repartee.”
“I’ll get back to you,” she said, and winked.
To be continued? This one could end here, or I could keep going with it. Depends on reader response, tbh…