ext_117805 ([identity profile] whatstheddx.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] cuddys_house2009-08-27 01:47 pm

Thursday 10th May, mid-afternoon

"You ready to go?" Wilson asked.

House pushed the locks shut on his suitcase and looked over at his friend standing in the doorway, hands bunched in his pockets. A week ago, House hadn't thought he'd ever hear those four words, not for a long while. A week ago, he'd had visions of being stuck in Mayfield hospital for weeks, even months, locked away from his life and from Cuddy while missing all the first milestones their kid would take. Megan had been true to her word - when he'd returned to the hospital after his weekend leave, his doctor had informed him on Tuesday that he could look towards going home. And today was the day. He'd been waiting for this day for the last month - the day he was able to pack up his belongings and say goodbye and a happy go to hell to Mayfield hospital for good.

Now it was here, though, he had mixed feelings. Eagerness to leave, definitely. He was eager to get back to his life, to Cuddy, to familiar surroundings and to feeling like he had more control over his life again. But he was also nervous. Megan was discharging him on the faith that he'd be able to cope on his own, that he'd continue to make progress towards better mental - and physical - health. He wanted to have faith that he could achieve those things without anybody else's help but the past month had done a lot to knock his confidence about. He wasn't just returning home to resume where life had left off. He was returning home to a whole new set of changes and challenges with an entirely new life awaiting him with expectant birth of this baby.

He looked back down to his suitcase. "You bet," he replied, careful not to give away anything to Wilson about what he was really thinking. With his coat tucked under one arm and his suitcase clasped in his other, he gave the empty, sterile room he'd come to be so familiar with one last glace over before he turned to Wilson and started for the door. "Let's get the hell outta here."

All the discharge papers had been signed already, so there was very little officiality to take care of. A couple of the nurses stopped House in the corridor to wish him well and to behave himself, advice he dismissed with an impatient nod for Wilson to lead the way out the door. After collecting his belongings from the nurses station, things had been confiscated upon initial entry to the hospital, he stepped out into the sunny afternoon with his eyes squinting against the sun's glare and made a beeline for Wilson's car.

The long car trip home was like old times between Wilson and himself - House making comments and touching things that didn't belong to him in the car, all which Wilson gave exasperated sighs to and cynical remarks. Wilson made conversation about Cuddy and the baby, while House made cutting remarks about the orcs in the hospital that he was now free of and told Wilson at one point to stop by a donut store and made Wilson buy him a box. He dropped crumbs and multicoloured sprinkles from the donut in the car as he ate, much to Wilson's chagrin, and at last his friend pulled into the curb outside House's apartment.

"Now, do you need anything?" Wilson asked once they were inside and all House's bags were stowed in the living room.

"You cleaned," House realised in an accusing tone, noticing the more orderly state of his apartment - books that had no room on his shelves stacked in neater piles, the wooden floors free of dust and other little details around the place that House noticed. He knew his home like the back of his hand and he knew when something was touched or disturbed.

"It was Cuddy's idea," Wilson said, hands held up in defence. "She wanted to make the place decent for you. Don't blame me."

"You didn't stop her, so of course I'm going to blame you," House shot back.

"She was just trying to do a nice thing for you. We both were. But fine, you're free to mess up your apartment however you want." Wilson then looked at his watch.

House turned to him. "You off?"

"Well, I figured you'd want to be on your own."

That was both true and false. House did want to be on his own. He hadn't been on his own for over a month and he was more than ready to have his own privacy for a change. However, he also wasn't sure what to do with himself now that he did have his own privacy. Now he was going to have to return to normal life - making his own meals, getting his own ass out of bed, remembering to take his medication, having to function like an ordinary person. It was such a basic thing, something he'd been doing for years on his own, but never had his own independence left him feeling so lost. But he didn't want Wilson knowing any of that.

He shrugged. "Fine by me."

Wilson didn't look too convinced but he knew better than to push. He nodded. "Maybe give Cuddy a call at work. Tell her you're home. Put her out of her misery - she's been so anxiously waiting for you to come home all week, I'm amazed her membranes haven't ruptured. If you need me, just give me a call. Don't abuse that privilege, by the way, even though I know you will." With that, he gave House a two fingered wave and stepped back to the door.House returned the wave and watched his friend leave. When the door closed, House was left all alone and he was acutely aware of silence. No people, no nurses, no doctors, nothing. Just him in his apartment, left to his own devices to pick up the rest of the pieces.

Grabbing his suitcase, he took it down the hall to his bedroom and dumped all his clean clothes into the drawers. Once he'd stashed the empty suitcase in the closet, he grabbed the phone and punched in Cuddy's work number as he wandered over to the window. He put the phone to his ear and listened to it ring, and greeted in an obnoxiously cheerful tone when it was answered, "Hi, honey, I'm home."

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-27 04:29 am (UTC)(link)
Cuddy sighed as she reached for another file, this one at the very back of the drawer. Naturally, these files were also in the bottom drawer of the file cabinet. She'd started out by bending over but that was hell on her back so she'd lowered herself rather gracelessly to her knees. Finally she'd given up and settled her ass on the floor, sitting crosslegged as she sorted through the files. It was a good thing she pretty much always wore pants these days because she could never have done this in a skirt.

"Dr. Cuddy? Are you all right?"

She glanced over her shoulder at the door of her office where Chase was standing, a worried expression on his face. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I looked in and saw you on the floor. I thought...." Chase walked over to the stacks of files surrounding her. "Why didn't you have your assistant pull the files?"

"Didn't know which ones I'd need," Cuddy said. She held up the latest file, waving it at Chase before she tossed it on the discard stack. "These regulations haven't been in effect for ten years. Why is it still here?"

"You're...sorting out your file cabinets?" Chase asked, baffled.

"They obviously need it." Cuddy pulled out another thick file held together with rubber bands. She didn't know exactly what had possessed her to sort the files. As always she had plenty of other work to do. She hadn't even started out with the intention of weeding out the useless files but she'd opened the drawer to retrieve one she needed and it had struck her how full and messy they were. Next thing she knew, she was on the floor, sorting out the deadwood.

"Okay," Chase said, looking somewhat bemused. He nodded at the stacks around her. "Would you like me to set those on the couch for you? It would surely be easier than sitting on the floor."

"I'm...fine," Cuddy said, distracted when the phone began to ring. Not her cell phone, which she'd smartly brought with her on her file-weeding adventure, in case of emergency. No, it was her desk phone and it was going to take her a moment or two to get back on her feet. She waved impatiently at her desk. "Bring it here, please."

Chase strode over and grabbed the entire phone from her desk. He turned back toward her and got pulled up short. "The cord's too short."

"Well, answer it then," she said sharply as it continued to ring. She shifted around awkwardly to her hands and knees while Chase dropped the phone back on the desk and grabbed the receiver. She glanced up just in time to see a rather odd look on Chase's face.


Cuddy waved frantically at Chase. She'd been half afraid something would happen, some kind of set-back, and House wouldn't be allowed to leave the hospital as scheduled. She'd tried desperately all day not to think about it too much just in case the plans got changed. But if House was calling, he must be home. If he'd been kept in the hospital, it would be Wilson giving her the bad news.

"Hang on," Chase said into the phone. He left the receiver lying on the desk and hurried over to Cuddy. She'd just about gotten her feet under her when Chase gripped her arms and pulled her upright. She was a little surprised. She wouldn't have thought his skinny arms were strong enough to lift a ton of pregnant woman. She spared only a second for that thought, though, and waddled to the desk as quickly as she could.

"House?" she said into the phone, sounding breathless.

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-27 01:09 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'm fine," Cuddy said, still trying to catch her breath. She kept the receiver pressed to her ear as she tried to walk around her desk without the phone cord pulling everything to the floor. She finally reached her chair and plopped down and took a deep breath.

"I was on the floor going through some files and I couldn't get to the phone. And Dr. Chase is here because...I don't know. I guess he thought I'd collapsed." She glanced up and saw Chase still standing there, a curious look on his face. She gave him a little wave that was an unmistakeable dismissal. He got a look of sly amusement on his face but he shrugged and headed toward the door.

"So...," she continued once Chase was gone. She leaned forward and grabbed up a folder from the corner of her desk. She used it to fan her face, feeling hot and sweaty after her struggle to reach the phone. "Are you all settled back in at home?"

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-27 05:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Cuddy frowned as she sat fanning her face. It took her a moment to pick up on House's train of thought and realize what he meant by getting punked.

"You thought I was in labor?" she asked with a laugh. "I wish, but it's nothing that momentous. Just me doing paperwork and Chase looking for brownie points. Or looking to snoop. Probably both."

She let out another soft chuckle and imagined the look on House's face from the tone of his voice. It would seem logical that a doctor would not freak out over a woman going into labor, even if the baby was his. Some excitement and nervousness would be normal but not freaking out. From the sound of House's voice, though, she got the impression he'd gotten quite a shock, which surprised her. She knew he was uneasy about becoming a father but she really hadn't expected him to be so anxious about the actual birth.

"Are you going to be okay or do I need to send an ambulance over?" she asked in an amused tone. For herself, she was ready to get this baby born, at least physically. It seemed as though every day she was stretched to the bursting point and there was a new ache and she was less able to keep going. She still had some psychological concerns, centered mostly around House and his issues and how they were going to save their relationship but her body was definitely ready to be done with this. For the moment, though, Junior was hanging tight.

"I suppose we can consider this a rehearsal," she suggested, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she leaned back in her chair. She got a mischievous look on her face which she didn't bother to hide since he couldn't see her. "Maybe I should give you a few more rehearsals. That way, when it's for real, you won't be so shocked."

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-27 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
"I hope you've got a backup plan," Cuddy chuckled when he nominated her for mouth to mouth duty. "It might take me a while to waddle across town."

She could hear the distinct lack of enthusiasm for more rehearsals in his voice. The idea would never have occurred to her--not seriously--because it had never occurred to her he would be so anxious. It made sense for her to have some nervousness about the process of giving birth. After all, it was her body that would have to endure what could be a very difficult and even dangerous process. He just had to be there--no pain, no risk. Apparently that was enough to send his nerves on high alert, though, so maybe a few rehearsals wouldn't be a bad idea.

"I'm doing my usual paper shuffling and pencil pushing." She sat forward and set her makeshift fan back on the desk with the other folders. "I'm doing it more slowly than usual but I'm doing it. Which is apparently very disappointing to the staff who'd bet on me delivering before now." She shifted the phone to her other ear and settled back in her chair again, rubbing her hand over the mountain of her belly.

"What about you? Got the party started yet? Called the strippers? Installed the disco ball? Got Wilson drunk enough to lose his pants?"

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-27 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)
"They shouldn't get their hopes up too high. It's a temporary dethroning at best."

She didn't believe most of her employees would truly want her gone for good. She knew she wasn't everyone's favorite boss but she wasn't evil either, House's assertions to the contrary. There were a few, of course, who didn't like her for one reason or another. She wasn't bothered by that. No one, especially not a boss, was universally loved. She did a good job, though, and she did look out for her employees and she thought they understood that at the end of the day. Of course, that didn't mean they wouldn't mind a vacation from her.

She smiled to herself when he claimed he was partying down at home, and especially at the notion of Wilson driving without his pants. It was nice to hear House being relaxed and joking around. Before he went into the hospital his demons had gotten pretty intense. That wasn't to say he'd lost the ability to have fun but it had definitely gotten harder for him to relax enough to be silly. Harder for her as well because there had always been a certain level of tension, an anticipation of bad things, that kept her from relaxing.

"Do you mind if we stay at my place?" she asked. It was getting so hard for her to get comfortable, especially at night, that she really wanted to be where she could be as comfortable as possible. She had a mountain of pillows arranged in her bed, she had her rocking chair for when bed didn't work, and she had her little pregnancy craving snacks. She felt better at home.

"My house is more pregnancy-friendly," she said. "Besides, if Junior does decide to make his grand entrance, my bag's at home."

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-28 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
"It's what I live for--pooping your parties," Cuddy said glibly. In some ways that was true. She spent a great deal of her time at work putting the brakes on his crazy 'parties.' That actually was the sum of her job as it related to House. Most of her job--as it related to everything else-- was making sure the gears kept turning, applying grease when needed. But with him, her job was to keep a lid on his extreme sports approach to medicine.

She glanced down at her hand resting on her belly, checking her watch when he mentioned the time. Then she looked at her day planner and sighed. How had she let herself get distracted with the outdated files in the bottom cabinet drawers? She'd only made more work for herself while avoiding the work she already had to do.

"Okay," she said finally, quickly prioritizing tasks in her mind. "I've got...ugh, probably a couple more hours of work to do. I'll definitely be home before five, though. Can you entertain yourself until then?" She paused. Giving him free rein to entertain himself was generally not a great idea. Heaven only knew what he'd decide was entertaining. She certainly couldn't predict where his whims would take him.

"And by entertain yourself I don't mean going through all my drawers," she added. "Or doing anything illegal, unethical, or immoral." That ought to cover it. At the least, it ought to guarantee her house would still be standing when she got there. "And yes, that's more party-poopery. As I said, it's what I live for."

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-28 01:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, okay...." Cuddy sighed, shaking her head at the phone. "Just don't get arrested."

Was she really worried he'd end up in jail? Well, it never paid to bet against House doing something stupid and self-destructive. Right then, he was like a prisoner just released from the big house and the intoxicating feel of freedom could spur him into doing something crazy. Probably not, but it wasn't entirely out of the question. She just had to hope his meds had enough of a calming effect on him that he wouldn't feel compelled to do something dangerous.

She repeated her promise to be home by five and said good-bye. As she returned the receiver to its cradle, Chase gave a quick tap on her office door and stepped back in. She leaned back in her chair, regarding him with a suspicious look.

"So...House is home?" he asked.


"All finished with his treatment then?" Chase persisted.

Cuddy's eyes narrowed. She'd told House's team he was receiving some follow-up treatment for the shooting, implying it was physical treatment. Chase obviously had his suspicions about that story and he was fishing for more information. "He's finished his inpatient treatment. He'll be continuing with some outpatient therapy."

"So he'll be back to work...?"

"When his doctor releases him to return to work." Cuddy gave him a pointed look. She understood his curiosity and he certainly had a right to want to know when his boss would be back to terrorize the team but it didn't outweigh House's right to privacy. "I appreciate your help earlier, but I'm sure you have better things to do. And if you don't, I can certainly find something for you to do."

"Fine, fine," Chase said, an easy grin on his face as he reached for the doorknob. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

She watched Chase long enough to be sure he was really headed out of the area, then she lowered her gaze to her desk. If she intended to make good on her promise to be home by a reasonable hour, she needed to ignore distractions like Chase and concentrate on her work.

For the next couple of hours, that's exactly what she did. Except for the all too frequent trips to the bathroom, she stayed at her desk and plowed through the never-ending list of requests and requirements that came through her office. In a way, she supposed she should be glad it was never-ending--it was a sort of job security--but some days she'd like to take the whole pile and burn it.

She kept her focus well enough that by quarter after four, she'd completed everything she'd deemed necessary. Once she reached the end of her 'must-do' list, she logged off her computer and closed up her office for the day. Because she was earlier than normal, she didn't have as much traffic to contend with and she arrived home well before her self-imposed deadline.

House's car was parked outside and there wasn't a single policeman in sight. She considered that a good omen and she made a beeline for the front door, her briefcase in hand. She started to call out for him as she opened the door but she stopped in confusion when she saw some balloons drifting along the ceiling of the hall. Before she could process that, an annoying buzzing sound grew louder and an RC monster truck came barreling out of the dining room, followed by its owner.

"House? What...?" She waved at the balloons and the truck, completely confused.

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-28 08:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Cuddy stared at House and his party accessories. He hadn't brought the strippers with him--as far as she knew--but he was clearly ready to have a good time. He had his party hat on and his balloons and that annoying truck.

She put her foot on top of the truck as it raced at her. She didn't damage it; she merely prevented it from going anywhere. "Grave Digger comes after me and he'll be digging his own grave," she warned before releasing the truck and stepping around it. She set her briefcase on the floor, propped against the wall and walked to him. "Nice shirt," she said dryly, leaning in for a kiss, one hand pressed against his chest. She patted her hand against the lovely illustration on his shirt, then continued into the living room...where there were even more balloons.

She shook her head in amazement. He was such a child sometimes. Still, this was relatively minor trouble-making. And it was probably the type she should get used to because she could imagine it was exactly the kind of trouble-making he and Junior would get up to at every opportunity.

"You forgot the disco ball," she said, looking around for any other signs of partying.

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-29 09:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Cuddy stumbled slightly as she tried to get away from the truck climbing over her feet. She was glad House was in a good mood. She was glad he was happy and enjoying himself and not drowning in self-doubt and self-hatred. There was a definite lightness to his mood, a playfulness she'd missed. Still, she hoped he wasn't going to do this all evening. The truck, especially, would get annoying.

"I'm almost afraid to ask what," she muttered when he told her he'd gotten her something. She headed toward the couch with the intention of sitting for a moment until she could process his party mood. The couch was full, though, of bags of--apparently--more party supplies.

She didn't have long to wonder at how much money he'd spent on...stuff because he handed her a box. With some trepidation, she opened it. She stared at the cake, eyebrows raised, then lifted her eyes to watch him dancing around to the music. She shook her head, chuckling in disbelief.

"Well, it's a bit early for my birthday. Early for Junior's birthday, too...as far as we know." She chuckled again. "It's good to see you in a celebratory mood, though."
Edited 2009-08-29 21:13 (UTC)

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-29 11:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Cuddy watched House unpack his other gifts, the ones for Junior. Her expression grew increasingly bewildered at the display of bad taste in babywear. She had to laugh, though, at the iPood shirt. Yes, it was tacky. They were all tacky but that one was also kind of clever.

"I see you're hoping Junior will inherit your sense of fashion as well as your sense of humor," she said. She pushed some of the bags aside and sat next to him on the couch. The shirts and bibs were like a slap in the face to her aesthetic sensibilities. She couldn't imagine dressing her child in these...these things. She wasn't so fashion obsessed she felt the need to dress her child in designer diapers or anything crazy like that but she did like to think her child's clothes would reflect just a hint of class.

She wasn't going to say that, though. This was the first time she'd really seen him having fun with preparations for the baby and she wasn't going to say anything to dampen his enthusiasm. She wanted him to be enthusiastic. She wanted him to get into the spirit of welcoming this kid. A few tacky bibs were a small price to pay.

Still with a somewhat bewildered smile on her face, she leaned sideways and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'm glad you had a good time this afternoon," she said. "Especially a good time that didn't involve strippers or the police."

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-30 01:26 am (UTC)(link)
"Interesting, maybe. I doubt it would've been much fun."

Then again, who knew what House might find fun. He probably would consider strippers fun. A lot of men would. Involving the police, though, surely wouldn't be fun for anyone. It wouldn't be fun for the police who had to deal with House, she was sure. And it definitely wouldn't be fun for her. Quite the opposite, in fact.

She tore the plastic wrap off her next 'present' and shook out the shirt so she could see it clearly. She turned an incredulous look on him as she held the shirt in front of her. "Seriously?"

There was no way she'd ever be seen in public wearing that shirt. It was one thing for House to call her a MILF. She understood it was his way of saying he thought she was sexy so she took it in the spirit intended. But the term was crude and distasteful and she didn't like it. She was proud of her body and her sex appeal but she'd never wear a shirt that advertised it. That was beyond tacky.

"You do realize this is never going to happen?" she said, shaking the shirt at him before setting it on the coffee table. "For all you know, it might be false advertising. You don't know I will be a MILF once I actually become a Mom. I might be all flabby and sloppy and totally not a MILF."

[identity profile] hbic-cuddy.livejournal.com 2009-08-30 02:59 am (UTC)(link)
"I'll take that bet."

Cuddy didn't think she was obsessive about looking good. She cared about her appearance--no argument about that. She liked to look good and she took measures to look her best. She exercised, she ate a healthy diet, she wore clothes she liked and which she thought flattered her. She didn't consider that obsessive, though. She didn't go to extremes. She definitely didn't plan to come home with her new baby only to jump into an exercise routine.

Although, House brought up a good point. At her age, gravity was harder and harder to resist. Being thin meant there wasn't as much to sag but after all her muscles had been stretched out by pregnancy, she was going to have to work to firm things up. Otherwise, there was going to be an unacceptable level of sagging. She was vain enough about her appearance that she wasn't about to let that happen without a fight.

"You harrass me because it's fun for you," she accused. "That's your reason." She settled back once he'd slumped back against the couch. She leaned against him and reached for his hand.

"The thing about a shirt like that is there's two possibilities. One, I'm not a MILF and wearing that shirt makes me look both pathetic and stupid. Or two, I am a MILF, in which case I shouldn't need to announce it on a t-shirt. I should be able to walk into a room and men will know it." She turned to look at him. "I kind of like the idea I can walk into a room and men will simply know I'm sexy without having to read it on my chest."

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