Moving The Chains
"Good morning, Doctor Cuddy," he greets, stopping beside her as he comes to a halt in front of the elevators.
He leans forward to jab the already lit button.
"Good morning, House. I see you're late as usual," she comments, looking briefly from the paperwork on her clipboard to her watch.
"Just trying to set an example for the kids to model," he replies, shrugging as though it's nothing at all.
The elevator dings its arrival and once the doors are open they both step in.
"What floor?” he asks as he pushing the button for the fourth floor. She tells him pediatrics and he presses the appropriate button.
"So how's the case going?" Cuddy asks, lowering the clipboard and turning to look at him for the first time.
"Still waiting on-"
"Oh my God! What the hell happened to your face!" she exclaims, her hand rising involuntarily to trace the bruise on his left cheek.
He shoots away from her hand as he sucks in a breath; the bruise is still painful to touch.
"Sorry," she apologizes her hand falling away as she stares at his face, prompting him again. "What happened?'
"Pull bar in the bathtub came loose. Knocked me in the face. Knocked me out," he tells her.
"You could have drowned," she worries out loud, continuing to list the worst, "You could have a concussion or-"
"I'm fine," he dismisses her statements, leaning into his cane with a sigh. "Don't worry. Despite your pranking past of trip wires, I've narrowed the field of suspects to Wilson or Foreman."
"House, I think you should-"
"Saved by the bell, " he intervenes as the elevator dings its arrival on the fourth floor. He wastes no time limping through the doors and towards his office.
She watches him, becoming thoughtful when the doors close.
Her lips purse and her mind wanders as the elevator continues its assent. Finally it latches on a conversation she had earlier in the week with Lucas about losing their condo to her best friends, such as they were. He wanted to retaliate and she did not think it was worth it - it was just a piece of property and they would find another place.
She was not even sure if she wanted the condo and losing it had not been as much a blow for her as it was for him. The condo would have been great when she was single. But she's not single anymore. She was definitely reconsidering not having a yard for Rachel to play in and moving to a less traditional space.
Lucas would not have done something as careless as rigging House's pull bar, would he?
She shakes the thought away, not wanting to believe it, but as she exits the elevator on the pediatric floor, she has a sinking feeling in her stomach that as much as she does not want to believe it, it's probably true.
*
Wilson and House pick up their orders from the counter and head towards their usual booth.
"It's Foreman," House says with conviction.
"Well, it should stop now that Marcus left." Wilson rationalizes.
"Well, that's the whole point -"
House never finishes the sentence - his tray goes flying and he lands stretched out on the floor. He shifts onto his side and looks behind him.
The man who is reading a newspaper at a table they passed turns around.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Was my leg sticking out? I'm so distracted lately, trying to think of something funnier than fire sprinklers going off in the middle of the night. Any ideas?" Lucas mocks.
House stands up and holds his cane like it’s a club.
"Whoa, easy there, tiger. I know where you live. You know how I know?" He fakes a laugh "'Cause my girlfriend and I - we tried to buy that very same condo."
He thinks to himself that he should have seen this coming and the fact that he did not just confirms he is too preoccupied these days to process other people. "Why don't you leave me out of this? Wilson was the one who bought the place."
"And you're living there. You... deserve to suffer equally," Lucas points out with a nasty glare.
"Actually, I suffered more now that you just tripped me."
Wilson's tongue finally loosens and he sputters out a the beginning of a defense, "Hey, hey, I-I-I'm -."
"His suffering will equal out, 'cause he actually feels remorse." Lucas rationalizes.
"Why would you out yourself? You can't even imagine the retribution," House states gruffly.
Lucas stands and walks towards them, "Oh, there won't be any. I am ceasing all offensive operations. I have both made my point and established my superiority. And if you even get to the planning stages of retaliation, I will tell Cuddy that she lost her dream place to you two. See, she's under this odd impression that you guys are her friends."
They stare at Lucas, momentarily uncomfortable. When it comes down to it, they don't actually want to hurt Cuddy and she is their friend. It's just their dysfunction shining through.
House recovers first, glaring at the man standing across from them. He says nothing else, until Lucas turns to leave the cafeteria. "She's also under the impression that you're not an asshole."
"Mostly, though, she's just under me," Lucas says smugly.
And House knows then, he isn't going to let that bastard get the last word.
*
She sits in her office finishing paperwork, but her mind is wandering.
She now has no doubt that it was Lucas who rigged House's grab bar and all the other ridiculous crap he listed off in the meeting. She wants to be angry at him, but she just can't.
This is the guy she's with now and it's the kind of thing she's let House slide on in the past. Hell, she's tried to do worse to him so it sort of makes her a hypocrite.
Her rationalizing, however, doesn't rid her of the sense of guilt that she has that they wouldn't be in this position if it wasn't for the strange triangle she had somehow pulled them into.
"Hey. You ready?" Lucas asks, walking into her office.
She looks up at him, the brief annoyance at his barging in overridden by her relief that his presence is signaling the end of her workday. "Almost." She says putting a check on a page. "And… done."
She stands, packing up, and begins talking. "I heard House and Wilson are getting pranked by someone. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"No." He lies.
"Why should I believe you?" She asks, already knowing he's not telling the truth.
"You said I had a trusting face. I still don't understand why you wouldn't let me retaliate, though. They stole your dream."
"Well, that's overstating it. It's just a condo." She scoffs.
"It's not because you feel guilty about hurting House or guilty for being with me?" He voices a doubt that is constantly in the forefront of his mind, even though he has the girl there's a fear that he won't get to keep her.
"We'll buy another one. I just don't see the need to make a war out of it." She certainly doesn't feel guilty for those reasons. And what she doesn't say is that she knows in the end a war between House and Wilson and Lucas isn't going to end well for her boyfriend.
"Well, I think you're rationalizing, which a less confident man than myself might take as a sign that you're second-guessing."
She kisses him because it's the easiest way to shut him up.
"Okay, you know what? Forget that last part."
"Let's go. I promised Marina I'd be home by seven tonite." She tells him as she walks with him out of her office.
*
Lucas pulls down the cap on his head and cuts across the street back to his car. The guy he is tailing hasn't done much other than go from home to work and back, so this midday excursion from work could be the break for this case.
He slips into his car and puts the key in the ignition turning it.
Only to be met with an odd churning sound and then silence.
His brow furrows and he tries the key again.
Still nothing.
Shit, he thinks to himself. This is not the time for his car to give out on him. Looking up, he sees the silver car he's been watching for a week pull out and away and there's nothing he can do about it.
"Dammit!" he exclaims, reaching down to pop the hood and getting our of his car, pocketing the keys.
He lifts the hood and it's immediately clear that the problem is one he can't fix as all the wires and cables seem to be in place.
He shuts the hood and walks around the car getting in and pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, deciding to call AAA.
He is just telling the agent his problem when his call drops.
Sighing, he dials again and it happens four more times before he flings the phone into the passenger seat in frustration.
His hand is on the door handle and he is about to get out of the car when three loud bangs and the sound of cracking glass have his heading jerking towards the passenger window and jumping in his seat.
The momentary fear that washes over him is replaced with disbelief as he recognizes the man standing on the other side of the window is House.
The car door opens and House slides in, picking up the phone in the seat and settles into place. "Sorry about that," He says pointing towards the window, "I don't know my own strength sometimes. So what brings you to this neighborhood?"
"What are you doing here, House?" Lucas demands.
"Just proving my superiority. See, you've been tailing that guy for a week now, and I've been tailing you. But somehow, I knew he'd be leaving his office this afternoon and you didn't. In fact, you're just sitting here in your car looking stupid," he informs him with the same smug tone he endured last week.
"You're interfering with my case-" Lucas cuts in.
"And you're interfering with my life by dating the woman..." He stops himself because he doesn't know exactly what Cuddy is to him.
Lucas can fill in the words, but doesn't. Instead, he warily looks at the man across from him.
"You owe me a new window," he points at the crack. "And what'd you do to my car?"
"You owe me a new television," he retorts. "And just so we're clear, I did this so leave Wilson out of it. I watered the oil the tank and the gas tank. You're gonna need a tow," he states cheerily, tossing the phone into Lucas' lap.
"Do you have any idea how much that's going to cost to fix?" Lucas asks as he fumbles the phone in his hand.
"You've got a sugar momma now, I'm sure she can afford it." House points out mockingly.
Lucas sighs. He really thought he had put House in his place and he should have seen this coming, but this is the first time House has been the House he knew.
And that worries him.
With a sigh, he hits redial on his cell phone. He is greeting the agent when the call drops again.
"Fuck!" he exclaims, looking down at the phone.
House's laugh has him turning to look at the diagnostician. That's when he spots the cell phone jammer.
He lifts his hands to his head and leans back in his seat, shooting House a sidelong glance, "So you want to go on a stakeout? I need someone who can diagnose a soft tissue injury from across the street.”
House looks mildly amused by the thought.
“And who has a car," Lucas grumbles, exasperated.