cuddys_house | Early afternoon, 18 September

Early afternoon, 18 September

Cuddy let out a sigh and made another notation on the pad of paper next to the file she was reviewing. She had one elbow on the desk, her fingertips pressed against her temple as if to support the weight of her head. She'd spent most of the day so far simply plowing through the accumulated paperwork on her desk. She refused to think about anything else. She couldn't think about anything else. She was in a sort of shock and what she'd learned that morning simply wasn't processing. She was actually okay with that for the moment. Finding out she was pregnant was so overwhelming that she didn't know how to process the information. It was too much too absorb just then.

"Dr. Cuddy?"

Cuddy glanced up at Brenda, leaning in her office door. Cuddy waved her in. "What do you need?"

"The nurse's schedule would be nice."

"I just sent it to you," Cuddy said, frowning. "Maybe fifteen minutes ago."

"No," Brenda said firmly. "What you sent was your grocery list."

Cuddy raised her head just enough so that her chin was now resting on the heel of her hand. "Seriously?"

"Yep. And while I'm thrilled to see that you're obviously getting your daily requirement of fresh fruits and veggies, the schedule would be more useful."

"God," Cuddy groaned, dropping her head. So much for focusing her mind on her work. That wasn't working out so well. She sat up straighter and turned to her computer. "Sorry about that. I'll send the right file now."

"You okay?" Brenda asked, lingering near the front of Cuddy's desk as Cuddy resent the file. "You're not usually so...."

"So scatterbrained?" Cuddy asked dryly. She hit send and turned back to face Brenda. "It's Monday. I guess my head just isn't back in work mode yet."

"Good weekend, huh?" Brenda gave her a calculating look. "So who is he?"

"Why would you assume...?" Cuddy cut off, an exasperated expression on her face as she watched Brenda's sly grin grow. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying," Brenda said.

"Well, don't." Cuddy made a shooing motion. Her tone was a bit curt but Brenda knew her well enough to know she wasn't really angry. The truth was, Brenda knew her well enough to know when Cuddy was off her game, and Cuddy was well aware of that. She didn't mind usually. She knew she could count on Brenda to cover her ass when she had these kinds of small slips. She didn't even mind when Brenda sensed that something was up in Cuddy's personal life. However, Cuddy didn't want Brenda figuring out why she was really so scatterbrained on this particular day. "Don't you have work to do?"

She watched Brenda return to the clinic, then looked down at the file she'd been working on. God, if she was too distracted to send out the right files, what kind of mess was she making of this file review? She needed to get it done, but she needed to get it done right. Accurate review of the files of deceased patients for the mortality and morbidity rounds was crucial for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that she wanted to avoid more deceased patients.

She groaned when she heard her office door open again. "I know I sent the correct file this time." She looked up only to realize it wasn't Brenda this time. "Oh. It's you."

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The evening House had turned out to be pretty uneventful. On the way home, he stopped by a liquor store and bought himself a bottle of bourbon. Once he arrived at his place, he threw some clothes in to wash seeing he had next to nothing clean to wear, heated up some canned vegetable soup, and spent the rest of the night on the couch. Coming home from any vacation was always anticlimactic, but this was particularly so. Not just because of how his parting with Cuddy had turned out, but because he was back home, back into the same routine. He watched TV, drank, ate, and only left the couch to deal with the clothes and to use the bathroom. He finally retired to bed after midnight, feeling pretty exhausted from the weekend and from having consumed several glasses of alcohol. He ended up sleeping reasonably well, though woke up feeling tired and irritable.

"Wow, you're here early," Cameron greeted when House entered the conference room.

He glanced at his watch. "Just after ten. Not that early." Earlier than the time he'd been keeping lately, but still not that early. He continued across the room, adding, "The early worm is usually for the birds."

"Just not this morning."

House looked over his shoulder at Cameron. "Why do you care?" he asked.

"I'm not allowed to?"

"You should save it for someone who actually wants it." He stared at her for a moment, then looked away again, uncomfortable by the way she was assessing him. Ever since she'd asked him how he was coping since the shooting, he hadn't liked being alone with her in case she started poking at that sore spot again. Being in the conference room only served to make him more paranoid of this fact.

"What're you looking at?" he finally shot at her, his tone low and irritated.

"You have to face up to what happened," Cameron said firmly, squaring her shoulders and crossing her arms over her chest.

House immediately let out an annoyed, tense sigh and looked away, determined to ignore her.

"You can't keep ignoring what happened to you," Cameron went on. "You can't keep pretending that we don't know or care what happened."

House shoved his bike jacket away, then faced back to Cameron. "Yeah, okay. I get your point," he snapped.

"No, you don't."

House so wasn't going to listen to this. He began heading for his office but found himself halting in his tracks when Cameron insinuated herself between him and the door with her hands planted firmly on her hips. "You're in my way," House pointed out tersely.

"You need to talk about this. With someone who can help you."

"It's none of your business."

"It is when I have to work with you," Cameron insisted. "It's my business if I saw you get shot."

"That was then. This is now. And right now I want you to get out of my way."

House went to shove past Cameron and was stopped in his tracks again. "That makes no difference. We all saw you get shot. We have to deal with what we saw just as much as you have to deal with what happened."

"I don't have to do anything," House shot back.

"You can't keep ignoring this, House."

House glared down at Cameron while she stubbornly glared right back up at him. Fine, if she wasn't going to get out of his way... He turned and headed for the conference room door instead, ignoring Cameron's plaintive, "House!" as he exited. Needing to get away from both the room and Cameron, he headed for the first place he could think of, which was Cuddy. Maybe if he bitched at Cuddy enough, she'd find Cameron something to do to get rid of her from his company for a while.

He eyed Brenda leaving Cuddy's office just as he approached it. She eyed him back, not really all that politely, which he ignored; he knew Brenda didn't like him any more than he didn't really like her. He threw Cuddy's office door open just as she said something about sending correct files. He raised his brows at her greeting.

"Don't get too excited to see me," House replied sarcastically. Then he noted, "Unlike you to be sending incorrect files. Been sending topless pictures of yourself to the committee members instead of memos, again?"

He stopped in the middle of her office and stomped his cane in aggravation on the floor, with an equally aggravated sigh. "Do something about Cameron."

"I was a little distracted," Cuddy said defensively. "It was a simple error, easily corrected, and none of your business."

She stared at House, apprehensive. She'd been hoping he'd have one of his Greta Garbo days and hide out in his office. She'd been hoping she wouldn't see him until she'd gotten a handle on the situation. She...didn't want to keep this a secret from him but she couldn't deal with his reaction until she'd worked through her own. And right then her reaction was mostly disbelief. She knew it was true; she'd seen the positive sign on the pregnancy test but she couldn't quite grasp that it was real.

She rubbed at her temple and set her pen aside. Somehow she was going to have to find a way to act normally until she could figure out the best way to tell him the news. That, of course, was assuming there was a best way. Or even a good way. Or, hell, a not-entirely-terrible way to tell him.

"Something I can do for you or are you just making the rounds?"

House stared right back at Cuddy. He felt tense and riled up now because of Cameron. He'd barely spent more than two minutes at work and she'd jumped on his case like it was her business. He wasn't entirely sure what the apprehensive look on Cuddy's face was; he guessed it was a combination of how their weekend had ended and her not wanting to deal with him while he was in a mood. He chose to ignore the way she was looking at him for those very two reasons.

"When I say 'do something about Cameron', does that usually imply that I'm just 'doing the rounds' or does that imply that I want you to 'do something about Cameron'?" he retorted.

He stared at her for a moment longer, then drew in a deep breath and looked down as he exhaled. He lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead before he started slowly towards Cuddy's desk. "Just Cameron and her annoying sense of self-entitlement," he relented.

He dropped his hand from his forehead to the back of the chair in front of him, and raised his eyes to Cuddy. Up closer, he noticed her expression in more detail and the fact that she had extra concealer around her eyes. He supposed that had to do with the weekend - he wouldn't have been surprised if Cuddy felt as tired as he felt from it. So much for ignoring how she was looking at him, though - he started to frown, a little paranoid.

"What?" he demanded after staring at her for another few seconds.

"Cameron being annoying is nothing new," Cuddy said almost dismissively. Well, it was true. Cameron had the ability to be as annoying as House in her own way, although he didn't usually come crying to Cuddy about it. The fact that he had made her suspect that Cameron was being annoying on a very personal level. Cameron was probably caring or something equally offensive in his eyes.

The truth was, though, that this time Cuddy didn't mind Cameron being annoying because the more she annoyed House, the more focused he'd be on her. And the more he focused on Cameron, the less he could focus on Cuddy. Right now she didn't want him watching her too closely. He had a bad habit of reaching conclusions from even the smallest of clues and she didn't want him knowing about the pregnancy until she was ready for him to know.

On the other hand, House already had a hair trigger when it came to the issue of how he was handling the aftermath of the shooting. While Cuddy didn't need him prodding at her just this moment, she also didn't need him getting more defensive either. The more Cameron cared, the more defensive he'd get and the angrier he'd get. It was going to be difficult enough to find the 'right' time to talk to House. It would be impossible if he was already angry.

"Nothing," she said, suddenly realizing that she'd been staring at him as she drifted off in her own thoughts. She shuffled the papers on her desk as a distraction and to make it look like she wasn't consumed with thoughts that were about him in some way.

"What is it you think I should do about Cameron?" Cuddy asked, holding her hands up in a questioning gesture. "I can't make her stop caring. If that were possible, you would've already done it."

House narrowed his eyes slightly. If it was 'nothing', as Cuddy just insisted, then why had she just been staring at him like that? She'd been staring at him like something was bothering her, or like she was preoccupied with something that possibly concerned him, though he couldn't really be sure. Maybe something had happened at work that had knocked her equilibrium off kilter. Then again, if it had she'd likely be a lot more impatient with him and shooing him out of her office.

He lowered his eyes to the papers she started fiddling with. She was shuffling the papers but didn't seem to be shuffling them with any purpose. Cuddy was probably just being awkward after arriving home yesterday, he reminded himself again. It hadn't exactly ended well, after all.

"I have the same problem with trying to kill cockroaches," he agreed tersely about trying to get Cameron to stop caring about him. "Almost impossible, no matter how much bug spray I use. She said she's 'over me'; you'd think the next logical step would be that she'd hate my guts."

He knew better about Cameron, of course. If he didn't, he wouldn't go out of his way sometimes to humiliate her about her feelings for him. And if she really was over him, she wouldn't react all the times he did humiliate her. Like that time he told her he loved her - her mouth had fallen open in shock, which was precisely what he was hoping she'd do so he could swab her mouth.

He gestured over his shoulder impatiently towards the door. "Do your dark overlord administrator thing. Administer Cameron to clinic duty for the next ten years or something." He then gestured pointedly at the papers on her desk. "Certainly give you something to do besides sitting there, shuffling papers around for no reason other than to look busy."

"Especially since most people don't need to go through the 'over you' stage. They jump right to the 'hate your guts' stage," Cuddy agreed.

At that particular moment, Cuddy wished Cameron could be like everyone else and despise House...except she didn't truly want that. House needed people to care about him even if he didn't like it or agree with it. In a way, the fact he didn't like it was all the more reason he needed it. Besides, Cuddy could hardly blame Cameron for doing exactly what she was doing--loving a man for whom 'love' was a four letter word. Well, she could blame Cameron but it wouldn't be fair.

"I don't just look busy--I am busy." She forced herself to sit still, hands folded together on the desk, when he drew attention to the way she was fussing with the files. She'd been busy all day, as busy as she could make herself. She'd been busy keeping her mind away from babies...which was mildly helpful but given her lack of any real concentration she was probably only making more work work for herself. And the baby thing wasn't going to go away.

"You hired her; she's your problem," she said, leaning back in her chair to look up at House and very pointedly not shuffling paper. Of course, any problem of his became a problem of hers sooner or later. Usually she was better off dealing with it sooner, before it became a bigger problem.

"Here's an idea--why don't you try treating a patient? That would keep both of you busy which would make both of you happy which would make me happy." She gave him a slightly sarcastic smile. "Everybody wins."

"You run this hospital, so technically everyone's your problem," House countered.

He probably very well could do something about Cameron himself, but that would mean being in the highly potential line of 'Cameron the personal adviser' fire, which only made him tense and angry, and Cameron really couldn't seem to get the hint that he didn't want to talk about any of that stuff no matter how much he told her so. The more he refused to listen, the more she pushed. She didn't even know what was going on with him (not that he wanted her to), which only made him even angrier because he couldn't stand people assuming things like that about him. Especially when they took it upon themselves to impose their assumptions on him and tell him what he should be doing with himself.

House returned Cuddy's sarcastic smile with one of his own. "In order to treat a patient, there needs to be a patient," he replied. There were plenty of patients he could treat out there, but House wasn't interested in any of them. He wanted interesting cases, not hospital-grade illnesses that could be easily solved with a few simple tests.

"You can either make this easier or more annoying for yourself," he said. "You have two options: keep me happy, which will in turn keep you happy. Or you can do nothing and contribute to my being miserable, which I guarantee will make you miserable."

If Cuddy wasn't going to do anything about Cameron, then he was going to stay right here in her office until she did. Yanking the chair out more towards him, he stepped around it and determinedly sat down. He rested his cane between his legs once he stretched them out and crossed them at the ankles, and clasped his hands on his lap. He settled his eyes on Cuddy and stared fixedly at her.

"I got all day," he informed her.

"So go find a patient," Cuddy said, waving her hand toward the door. "We've got a whole building full of sick people. Surely one of them would be at least mildly interesting."

She groaned inwardly when House plopped down on the chair and settled in for a battle of wills. Or at least a battle of who should be making the effort to make whom happy. Unfortunately, under the circumstances it was clear she was the one who needed to make him happy for the time being. She needed to keep him on an even keel emotionally if she was going to have any chance to deliver her news without causing him to have a stroke.

Of course, he didn't know she needed to keep him happy. She didn't want him to know. She didn't even want him to know that she was trying to keep him happy because that would make him suspicious. A suspicious House was not what she needed. Somehow, she needed to figure out a way to keep him happy without letting him know she was keeping him happy. She wasn't sure she could focus her mind well enough to do that today.

"Unfortunately, I don't have all day. I have this thing called 'work' to do. You should try it sometime." Cuddy picked up her pen and began reading the patient file again, pointedly ignoring House. Under the desk, though, her left leg was bouncing with nervous energy. She couldn't concentrate as long as he was loitering in her office and she didn't know how to get him out of her office. Of course she could tell him about the pregnancy--that would get him out of there pretty damn quick.

That thought made her gut clench with dread. She rubbed her hand over her face and looked across the desk at him. "Really, House, I'm not in the mood for games today."

"If it's just paperwork, then I'm sure you won't mind me sitting here, watching you," House said at Cuddy's assertion that she was working. He gestured with a hand at her work in front of her. "Besides, it's not like you're doing much. Writing reports doesn't require a load of effort or skill, or even concentration - it's not brain surgery, or even endocrinology."

He knew writing reports required some measure of concentration because it sure as hell required him a lot of concentration to even bother thinking about writing up reports and dictations. Or maybe concentration wasn't even the case for him - more like inclination. He never had any inclination to do his paperwork. He also knew, too, that taking blatant stabs at Cuddy's job could land him in hot water. Of course, knowing that never stopped in the past, nor did it stop it just then.

But to show he really wasn't going anywhere, he turned his head away and started gazing around her office, jiggling his good leg for something to do because he was usually unable to sit still without fidgeting in some manner. His eyes finally landed back on Cuddy's desk and he reached for the small pot of paper clips to play with. As he drew them towards him, he darted his eyes up just in time to see Cuddy rubbing her face.

"You always say that," he replied dismissively. "Do you think saying that will make me leave faster?" He picked up a couple of paper clips. "Or at all?"

Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on the desk and began threading one of the paper clips onto the other to start a paper clip chain. If there was anything more annoying, it was reaching for a paper clip in a hurry to keep files together, only to find some asshole had chained all the paper clips together. Which was why he was doing it - for something to fiddle with, and to annoy Cuddy in the event that she'd need a paper clip in a hurry.

"So," he began conversationally once he threaded another paper clip on, "what's the differential for rubbing your face in a stressed-like manner?" He glanced up at Cuddy to watch her reaction while he plucked up another paper clip. He was interested to a degree, given how weirdly she'd been staring at him earlier, though he was mostly interrogating just to be an asshole, to annoy her so that she'd get fed up and do something about Cameron.

He looked back down at what he was doing. "Normally when I'm being an inconvenience to you," he continued, "you either become sarcastic and make clever threats that send me on my way, or patiently ignore me until I get bored. You never sit there, stressfully rubbing your face unless you're stressed about something, and I don't mean something work-related. Work-related stress just makes you bitchy; it doesn't make you look at me weirdly like I've got something growing on my face, or make you do that face-rubbing thing you just did. Because you like to appear in control at all times, even when you're stressed.

"Which means you're off your game." He plucked up another paper clip, then turned his eyes up to her. "Why?"

Cuddy did her best to ignore House but of course he knew exactly how to annoy her. When he blew in like a storm it was certainly disruptive but it was usually over quickly. When he really wanted to annoy her, it was the little things that drove her nuts. The way he messed with the stuff on her desk, the way he conversationally analyzed her every facial expression.

"Doesn't take a diagnostics genius to realize that my stress level is usually directly proportional to your proximity," she said. She stared at the way he was stringing her paper clips together, then reached into one of her desk drawers. She pulled out a small box of paper clips and very pointedly set it next to the files she was reviewing. Then she gave him a 'so there' look. Let him play with her office supplies. She was the boss; she had more.

"Fine, yes, I'm a little off my game. It's a little hard to get back into the routine after the weekend." She made herself meet his gaze and keep her expression calm and unrevealing. It wasn't like she was lying to him...exactly. She simply wasn't telling the whole truth. She would, but not yet. And definitely not here. "Your presence isn't helping."

"You never act stressed when I'm in your proximity, especially when I'm alone in your proximity," he pointed out.

Just when he thought he was winning by childishly stringing her paper clips together, Cuddy one upped him with her other box of paper clips. He paused mid-thread of another paper clip, giving the box an assessing look with a mild moue of defeat.

Then he raised his brows as he turned his attention back his paper clip chain and decided that was okay, Cuddy could have her box of unchained paper clips. He'd just chain these particular paper clips to something instead. Until then, he'd make this chain longer so that he could string a few of her desk items together. Like maybe her desk lamp to her pencil retainer, or her keyboard cord to her mouse cord.

He lifted his eyes back to Cuddy when she mentioned the weekend, meeting her gaze. He thought back to the day before, the fight they'd almost had, and how different yesterday - and indeed today - had been to Friday night and Saturday. The difference in atmosphere and behaviour between Cuddy and himself made it almost impossible to believe that they'd been away together on a romantic weekend.

"You make that sound like a bad thing," he shot back at her remark that his presence wasn't helping. "Announce to enough people that you're off your game because of the weekend, people are going to start thinking you have a new love interest in your life."

Deciding he suddenly needed way more paper clips to string stuff on Cuddy's desk together, even though he had a whole pot of paper clips left to chain, he reached an arm across to grab up the box of paper clips she had next to her paperwork.

"Sometimes your proximity is very welcome. Other times, not so much," Cuddy said. "This happens to be one of those other times."

The truth was that if she hadn't gotten such a shock that morning, she'd probably be enjoying his presence. Sure, he'd come to whine about Cameron and he was apparently going for the world record paper clip chain, but he wasn't in an overtly bad mood. He was being fairly low key--for him--and she wouldn't have minded a small interruption. After a romantic weekend it would've been nice to sort of ease back into their working relationship like this.

"I'm not planning to announce anything to anyone," she insisted. Well, she would be announcing something to one person.... She gave a sharp shake of her head. She had to get a grip on herself. She was facing a huge change in her life but she couldn't let it take over her life.

Her hand shot out and slammed down on the box of paper clips before House could snatch it away. She kept her hand pressed firmly on the box and glared at him.

"If I take care of Cameron for you, will you go away and let me get some work done?" She didn't particularly want to deal with Cameron, especially if Cameron was going to be poking around for information about House. However, if that's what it took to make him happy, she'd do it. In fact, she could enlist Cameron's help in finding a new case for him because that really was what made him happy.

"Fine. Send her down. But Chase and Foreman are your responsibility."

House halted the moment Cuddy claimed her box of paper clips with a slam of her hand on the desk. He tsked in annoyance, though let her keep them and drew his hand back to the pot in front of him. Though, what Cuddy said made him perk up a little - she was going to deal with Cameron. Persistence, no matter how annoying, was definitely the key to getting what he wanted.

"Foreman doesn't like me enough to really care too much, and Chase generally prefers staying on my good side," he replied. He motioned to the good side of his body. "Which is why he's always walking on my left." He gave Cuddy a speculative look. "Because everyone knows I don't actually have a good side beyond physically."

He definitely felt more relieved and accomplished now he'd gotten what he wanted from Cuddy, so he didn't feel as inclined to booby trap her desk with paper clips. He kept playing with them, though fiddled with them more than chained them together. While Cuddy had more or less said for him to leave, he wasn't actually making any move to, well, move. Now he'd gotten what he wanted, he was prepared to be more civilised, though. He was still a bit bothered by Cuddy's seemingly stressed behaviour, but he was willing to dismiss that for the time being. He'd likely find out sooner or later what was really bothering her, anyway.

Plus, after how yesterday had ended up, he kind of wanted to get back on some sort of even ground with Cuddy. Not only that, but spending time with her could be a good distraction from stuff he didn't want to think about. Could be because sometimes she raised subjects that were anything but distracting.

"So, now that little matter's out of the way," he said casually, placing the paper clips back into the pot and pushing the pot away, "you doing anything tonight?"

"Well, you certainly do your best to convince everyone you don't have a good side."

She thought he was probably right about Foreman and Chase. Foreman generally preferred to keep a little distance, as if he was afraid that whatever made House House was infectious. And Chase...he could be a champion brown-noser but he did care. He just wasn't as intrusive about it as Cameron.

Since House seemed to accept the deal she'd offered, Cuddy waited for him to make his exit. After a moment, she was still waiting. She tapped her fingers on the desk top and kept waiting but apparently House had settled in for a visit. God, why did he have to be feeling sociable today? Normally she'd be thrilled he was playing well with his colleagues, but did it have to be her? Why couldn't he go be sociable with Wilson? Why did he have to torment her without even trying...other than the fact that he always tormented her.

"What?" Her head snapped up when he asked her plans, and she stared at him, her mouth agape. She experienced a brief flash of panic. She'd been planning to have some time alone that evening to sit and think without any distractions. He was the biggest possible distraction she could have. Of course, maybe he was merely making conversation. Maybe he had his own plans for the evening. Either way, she should lie and say she had plans so she could have that alone time. Only she'd hesitated too long now to be able to lie convincingly.

"I...." She almost went ahead with a lie but she knew he'd know she was lying. And then she'd have to lie about why she'd lied. This was starting to give her a headache.

"Nothing," she continued. "I was going to watch a little tv, maybe make an early night of it. Why?"

Expecting Cuddy to warm to the fact that he wanted to see her tonight, House was a bit taken aback by her reaction. The way she suddenly looked at him with her mouth agape - she looked almost positively mortified. House blinked and then frowned in confusion. The way she hesitated before giving her response made House then eye her suspiciously.

He ignored her response for the moment. "Did I just say something wrong?" he asked, partly sarcastic but partly curious, too.

Okay, so now this had happened, he decided Cuddy was definitely acting a bit odd. He just had no idea why. He could dismiss her earlier discomposure as being uncertain of how to approach him since yesterday, but this was just weird. He narrowed his eyes at her a little, trying to work out just from looking at Cuddy exactly what her problem was.

"For doing 'nothing', that was a very surprised reaction you just gave," he remarked. "Why do you think I'm asking you what you're doing tonight? Just to make friendly conversation?"

"No, it wasn't wrong. It's just...we spent pretty much every minute of the weekend together and I sort expected that you'd want a little breathing room." Cuddy gave a small, apologetic shrug. "I'm still not used to you wanting to spend a lot of time with me."

Boy, she was going to have to watch herself or House was going to get all paranoid again. That would not bode well for her plan to keep him in a relatively good mood. She truthfully hadn't expected he'd be looking to spend more time with her. He was a loner by nature. She knew that, accepted it, and in this case, she'd been counting on it. Which, of course, was why she should never count on anything with him--he was too unpredictable.

"Possibly," she said. Well, she had considered that he might be simply making conversation. She knew it was unlikely but it wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility. "Or maybe you want to know my plans so you can sneak into my house while I'm gone and put superglue on the toilet seat or something equally as charming."

She pulled the small container of paper clips closer and began to unchain the ones House had hooked together. It helped to have something to expend her nervous energy on although she didn't expect it would do much to unscramble her thoughts.

"Look, I already admitted I'm not firing on all cylinders today. So maybe you should just spell it out for me. You know--talk slow, use simple words. Eventually I may even catch up to you."

House continued to watch Cuddy suspiciously. He could get the part about her expecting him to want breathing space, though he wasn't entirely convinced that was what she meant. He couldn't help thinking she was the one who wanted breathing space. He didn't know why, however. Sure, maybe she just wanted breathing space for the sake of breathing space, but that combined with her behaviour didn't add up to him. If anything, it was making him a little paranoid.

"You can't be that tired," he replied skeptically. But maybe she was. Maybe the weekend just knocked her energy right down. He wanted to believe that was all it was, but something about how Cuddy was behaving was bothering him.

"I was going to suggest pizza for dinner at your place," he said. He took his cane in his hand and began to rise from the chair, his paranoia getting the better of him enough that he felt a little defensive. "But seeing you seem oh so enthusiastic about the very idea of us being in the same room," he continued sarcastically, "I get the impression that would probably be the wrong thing to suggest."

He stood tall and leaned heavily against his cane, giving Cuddy a scrutinising look. "Unless you want to tell me what's going on."

"Of course it's not the wrong thing. I want to spend time with you," Cuddy said quietly.

Admittedly she hadn't acted very enthusiastic about the proposition but that wasn't because she didn't want to spend time with him. She'd hoped for little peace and quiet to sort out her thoughts and feelings but the whole reason for doing that was because she was afraid that being pregnant meant she was going to lose the chance to spend time with him.

If it were just for herself, she'd be ecstatic about the news. It was, after all, what she'd been hoping for before she started seeing him. It was one of the few things in her personal life that had finally gone right...at exactly the worst time. Now she had to figure out how to have both--House and a child--and frankly she didn't think her odds of achieving that goal were very good. It scared her.

"I have some things on my mind, but none of it has anything to do with wanting to spend less time with you. I promise you that." She looked up at him where he was staring down at her, studying her. She wished she could lie well enough to reassure him but she wasn't that good at lying and he was too good at reading her.

"So please, come over to my house after work. I'll even take care of ordering the pizza."

House wasn't sure if he was reassured or not. On the one had, it was a relief to know that whatever was on her mind didn't involve wanting to see less of him. On the other hand, what could possibly be on her mind since yesterday? Apart from how their weekend had ended, he didn't know what she could be so preoccupied with. So, really, he wasn't that reassured at all because while she'd said it didn't have anything to do with wanting to spend less time with him, she didn't say it had nothing to do with him, period. Which meant it had something to do with him... right?

He looked down and then away, realising that he was jumping to conclusions and getting paranoid. The problem with how much he automatically analysed people and things to death was that he could impulsively jump to conclusions that weren't always even close to being right.

He looked back up to Cuddy when she said about going over to his place after work, and he narrowed his eyes again. "What, no complaining about how much fat there is in a pizza or how unhealthy it is? Like you usually do about stuff like that?" he asked suspiciously, almost accusingly. He was being a bit pedantic now, and contrary, almost deliberately fishing for an argument because it really wasn't like Cuddy to just agree to unhealthy food like that without some kind of complaint. "That's it? You're just going to order one like it's something you do normally?"

"Do you have to be difficult about everything?"

Cuddy was very careful about what she ate but she wasn't obsessive about it despite how House was trying to make it sound. She tried to choose healthy items from the menu and she watched her portion sizes but it wasn't like she was refusing to eat. She thought she had a healthy relationship with food; she enjoyed it and she ate what she needed. She didn't know why he was making a big deal of it now unless it was simply that he had to complain about something.

Of course, being pregnant meant she was going to have to start watching her diet in a different way. She'd still need to eat healthy but that would involve taking in some nutrients she didn't normally worry about just for herself. And eating more, obviously.

"If it makes you feel better, I was only planning to have one slice and make myself a little salad to have with it. I thought that would be a good compromise." She leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared at him, silently daring him to make an issue of that. "Any other criticisms you'd like to make while we're on the subject?"

"It was just a question," House shot back, though he did know he was being a bit difficult. He couldn't really find a complaint in what she said next, however, and as she sat back and looked at him challengingly, he dropped his gaze to silently say he couldn't find fault with that.

He lifted a hand and rubbed his thumb across his eyebrow, then looked back up to Cuddy as he dropped his hand away. "Not unless you want me to," he replied.

He stared at her for a moment longer, then puffed his cheeks out and glanced over his shoulder at the door. Well, he'd gotten what he wanted with Cameron and he'd gotten what he wanted with seeing Cuddy tonight, even if he still felt apprehensive about why she'd been acting a bit odd. He guessed there was little reason to stay any longer.

"Guess I'll see you after work," he said, facing back to Cuddy. "I'll be 'round your place about six." He watched her for another couple of seconds, then began to face around to the door to leave her office.

"Nothing is ever just a question with you."

Cuddy's tone was exasperated but there was also a hint of affection as well. After all, the questions and the poking and the prodding were quintessential House and she truly did enjoy the uniqueness of his personality...most of the time.

Besides, there was no point letting herself get too bothered by it, although that was easier said than done. Sometimes he saw things about her she didn't want him to see, and sometimes he saw things that weren't even there. His scrutiny threw her off balance, always had. But she had to learn to deal with it in her personal life the same way she'd learned to deal with it professionally.

"Sounds good," she said as he started to leave. She hoped it would be good anyway. She didn't expect she'd be any less distracted. She'd have to find a way to put part of her mind on hold otherwise he'd only get more suspicious. She could do that, though. She would do it.

"I'll order us a nice, healthy pizza," she called as a parting shot.

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Early afternoon, 18 September

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