closed to Cuddy

[rubicks_complex]

House couldn’t rest, much less sleep. His argument with Cuddy had left him feeling restless and on edge. He spent a good part of an hour shifting from his back to his side and back again, unable to get comfortable, moving about to the point where his bed covers had rumpled halfway off the bed

Comments

[l_cuddy_md]

Cuddy headed back to House's room, feeling ready to deal with him and his trash-talking again. Still tired, of course, but a shower, change of clothes, and some fresh air had done wonders for her state of mind. As had meeting Rose. She'd been at the hotel such a short time before getting caught up in House's detox dilemma that she hadn't really had time to get an idea of who the 'guests' were, or even how many there were. And, yes, it was nice to know there was at least one other woman in the hotel. She supposed it wasn't really such a big deal, but she could conceive of days when all the testosterone might get to be a bit much

[rubicks_complex]

"I could be," he replied, sobering from his laughter but still grinning madly. "I could be a lot of things. I could be happy. Orrr... I could be going insane. Orrrr... I could be high on aerosol air freshner, from the bathroom. Orrr... I could just be drunk."

He opened his eyes and peered at Cuddy. "But drunk's nowhere near as fun."

He took a moment to study her face, and it vaguely occured to him that the concerned look she was sporting could very well morph into rage when she discovered what it was he was high on. But he dismissed that thought almost as soon as it popped in there; he was too high on cloud nine at the moment to even care.

"Or you could just ask me, 'House, is that Vicodin I smell on your breath?'" he continued; his facial expression were over-exaggerated and highly amusing from how stoned he was. "But, then again, why would I have Vicodin on my breath when there's no way I could obtain Vicodin? I must be high to even think such a thing."

[l_cuddy_md]

"What the.... What?" Cuddy said in response to House's insane babbling. He had to be drunk. Or stoned. Or delirious. Something.

She did an abbreviated physical exam as House continued to grin stupidly at her. There was no evident fever, his pulse and respirations were actually slower than they had been, his pupils were small.... Cuddy sat back on her heels, stumped by House apparent intoxication. He'd taken something, but what the hell could it have been?

"House," Cuddy said slowly, a sudden sinking feeling in her belly. There weren't any narcotics in the room, damn it, so he couldn't have taken any. Except...except why would he be so fixated on that if he hadn't? "House, is that Vicodin I smell on your breath?"

[rubicks_complex]

House scoffed. "Well, now that would just be silly, Cuddy," he retorted. "Like I can get my hands on Vicodin