Okay, some of u may have seen this over on the fan fic site, but i thought I'd post it here too.
As always, Im pimpin' for comments, so bring 'em on!
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Stepping out of the cozy cocoon of her warm Lexus, Lisa Cuddy unfurled her umbrella against the icy blowing rain of the early December morning. Shivering against the cold, she shrunk into her jas and cursed under her breath as the biting rain stung the skin of her legs that protruded from under her knee length skirt.
Look up into the hazy gray sky she couldn’t help but think how the morning weather was a perfect verkwikking, refection of her current mood. Gloomy as the sky above, the frigid rain seemed to serve as punctuation to her sullen attitude. In all honestly, all she really wanted to do was get back in her car, go home pagina and curl up under a blanket on her sofa for about week and a half. Considering the thought for brief moment, she mindless chewed on her bottom lip as her eyes drifted over the kap of her car and across the parking lot towards the building that dominated the view. Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Who was she kidding she wondered. This was her home pagina away from home; hell it was meer of home pagina than her actual residence, she spent meer time within its walls then in her home pagina after all.
Sighing a bit at the thought, she adjusted the umbrella in her hand. Her work was her life. She knew it, everyone who knew her knew it, but recently she had begun to crave a different reality, one in which she was one of those people who allow themselves personal days, people who didn’t think twice about calling in sick just so they could sit home pagina and watch bad dag time TV and take naps. She wanted to be a person who didn’t define their life door how they earned their paycheck, someone with a life outside the four walls of their job. She wished to be…more. A mother…a wife…hell she’d settle for being someone’s best friend, but those things didn’t seem to be in the cards for her. Her attempts insofar to become any of the above were all complete and utter failures, so she really could see no other choice but to accept who she clearly was meant to be. She was Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine. She was not someone who took days off from work to sit home pagina and mope. She was not mother, not wife, not even a girlfriend…she was an administrator. Her job was important and her job was her world for better of worst.
Gripping her umbrella tightly, she gave the bricks and mortar of the PPTH one final glance before sighing and shaking herself from her melancholy reverie. “Geeze Lisa, get a grip,” she mumbled aloud, chastising herself for indulging in the self pity that had been tickling the back of her brain all morning. “It’s just work,” she reassured herself, but even as the whispered words misted the cold morning air in front of her, she knew she didn’t believe them. Sighing, she resigned herself to simply burying the thought for the moment. Straightening her back and lifting her chin, she gave her head a little shake and put on a fresh layer of resolve. Turning defiantly back towards her car, she moved to gather her things from the zitplaats, stoel when she felt her now damp rok cling to her legs. “Damn it” she muttered, plucking at the wet fabric, “I wish it would just flippin’ snow already,” she grunted, grabbing her mostly full cup of coffee from the door cup holder and tossing her aktentas, werkmap over her shoulder. Pushing the car door closed with the tip of her heeled foot, she turned and quickly scurried towards the front doors of PPTH and her life.
~~~~~~~
Stepping onto the rug inside the door, Lisa paused to wipe her feet. Lowering her umbrella, she juggled it with her coffee cup trying futilely to shake it of its excess water. Just as she was about to lose her grip on her coveted java the small redheaded nurse that manned the reception bureau scampered towards her. “Let me get that for u Dr. Cuddy,” she offered cheerfully.
Smiling gratefully into the woman’s warm brown eyes, she nodded. “Thank u Meredith,” she murmured as the woman took her umbrella and gave it a solid shake before closing it up.
“This weather is absolutely miserable,” Meredith sighed as she moved back towards the front desk. “I can’t believe you’re here in a skirt! Are u glutton for punishment?” she teased, a small grin turning the corners of her lips. “I would think being Dr. House’s lion-tamer would meer than fulfill that need,” she smirked as she moved around to the opposite side of the desk.
Smiling in spite of her mood, Lisa shook her head and glanced at the smaller woman. “The fact I come in here dag after dag and don’t brand him on the spot probably means I’m meer likely mentally ill rather than a masochistic,” she zei dryly reaching for the pile of clinic files that filled her inbox. “As for the skirt, I’ve found that an appropriately fitted one, paired with a similarly fitting top, makes for not only quicker, but meer lucrative meetings when it comes to old wealthy white men,” she quipped as she flipped though the stack.
Meredith chuckled. “Why Dr. Cuddy I had no idea u would resort to feminine wiles to get your way,” she zei with mock surprise as she arranged current patient folders into a rack on the desktop.
Tucking the files she had been flipping through into the crook of her arm, Lisa looked up at the nurse. “Meredith, never underestimate the power of a great rok in the presents of old money…or for that matter, Dr. House,” she returned.
Meredith laughed. “Well I hope it works better on the old guys than it has on House,” she zei her eyes twinkling in light amusement as she handed Cuddy her umbrella.
Taking the damp item in one hand and her coffee in the other, Cuddy gave the women a small grin. “You clearly weren’t here during the ‘power suit’ days. Trust me the rok reins him in,” she muttered.
Looking at her with a raised eyebrow, Meredith shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t imagine such a thing,” she chuckled softly.
Giving the woman a small smile and a shrug, Lisa turned toward her office. “I’m not in for another half uur if anyone is looking for me,” she announced before turned and pushed though the outer doors of the office proclaiming her name on its glass.
~~~~~~
Stepping into the small space between the clinic and her office, Cuddy glanced over at the empty bureau to her right. Karen, her latest assistant, had bitten the dust last week, so there was no one to occupy the seat. In her 8 years as dean of medicine for PPHT, she had been through a half dozen personal assistances, which most administrators would consider an extremely high omzet rate, but then again most people didn’t have someone like Greg House working for them either.
All but one of her past employees had quit meer of less because of him. He pushed them, played pranks on them, taunted them, abused them; in short treated them just like he treated everyone else in his warped world. The issue was that for the $35,000 a jaar the job paid no one seemed to be willing to put up with his crap for long. For the first few years she had tried to shield them from him and spent a long hours lecturing House on the subject, but just as it was with anything to do with normal human interaction and him, it had been pointless. In the last few years she had resigned to just looked for the toughest broad that interviewed for the job. She wasn’t convinced it was the best way to hire for the position, but then again it had extended the stay of the last one to a jaar and a half, which was a record. She just hoped now that she found the volgende sacrificial victim during the interviews she had scheduled for volgende week. She did after all actually need someone to buffer her visitors, answer the phone and most importantly, give House something to do, even if only for a few days. The clinic bureau had been performing the duties of her assistant since Karen’s departure and they were doing an adequate job at the first two items, but seeing as everyone on the bureau were seasoned nurses there was no chance in hell any of them were going to put up with House for even a minute. “House,” she mumbled to herself as his face played in her mind and her stomached turned in a now familiar fashion. Shoving the image away, she gave herself a shake and headed for the doors to her office.
Stopping at the double French doors of her office, she set her coffee down on a nearby filing cabinet and reached into her bag. Digging blindly into the bottom of the damp aktentas, werkmap for her elusive ring of keys, her mind aimlessly drifted back to her conversation with Meredith out in the clinic. Glancing down at her heeled feet and snuggly fitting skirt, House’s voice pushed unbidden to the forefront of her brain.
“Why are u dressed like that?”
“Why do u try so hard to get my attention?”
“Are u screwing with me?”
As the words played back her mind’s eye played back the look in his eyes as the raked over her body in their customary inventory. She shivered instinctively as the moment replayed. Closing her eyes, Cuddy pushed the memory away. It was that memory, well not only that memory but the events of the past two weeks that had shoved her kicking and screaming into her current mental state. Taking a shallow breath, she focused her energies back to her key search. Finally feeling cool metal on her fingertips, she rejoiced and pulled the ring out of her bag. Quickly picking though the jumble, she selected the correct key, slid it into the lock and gave it a turn. Pushing open one of the French doors, she grabbed her coffee from the filing cabinet and shuffled into her silent office.
Making her way to stand in front of her desk, Cuddy gratefully unburdened her load. Dropping her aktentas, werkmap into the chair behind her, she quickly deposited the cup of coffee she had been diligently transporting onto her bureau calendar and plopped the stack of files into her inbox. Hands finally free of debris, she turned back for the door. Shutting it quietly, she moved towards the jas rack as she made quick work of unbuttoning her taling, groenblauw green wool coat. Tossing the jas on the nearest peg, she unwound the plaid scarf from around her neck, cautiously avoiding her hair, and hung it volgende to her coat.
Yawning, Cuddy rolled her head from side to side trying loosen the tight muscles in the back of her neck. The strain of the past weeks had wrecked havoc on her sleep patterns, not to mention her body. Fatigue from it all had begun to set it and was now pricking at her brain and made her muscles ache. Letting her eyes fall closed for moment, she took a refreshing breath. Hanging in the air of her recently remolded office she could still detect the distinct smell of fresh paint and new carpet. Opening her eyes slowly she took in her new accommodations and felt a tinge of satisfaction. Her office looked good, great actually, especially considering the shambles it had after it had served as ground zero during the hostel armed takeover of the clinic. Her neck stiffened again as the dag came back into focus. afbeeldingen and feelings rushed over her in waves. Armed police – guns – panic – blue eyes looking at her through glass– her stomach knotted as the afbeeldingen played.
“Do u have a husband of a loved one in there?” the vraag replayed in her brain for the hundredth time.
“No” she heard herself reply…lie. The police had known it - that she was lying.
“Hope your boyfriend knows what he’s doing” they had told her.
But he wasn’t her boyfriend, he wasn’t HER anything. Her hart-, hart sped up in her chest. ‘He’s a colleague, an employee, a great doctor and on rare occasions maybe a friend, but boyfriend he is not,’ she lectured to herself, desperately trying to shake the sinking feeling in her stomach and slow her hart-, hart as the thoughts tumbled about.
Her eyes moved instinctively over to the uithangbord on the far side of her desk. She studied it closely for a moment. She didn’t know if it was real of her imagination, but she could almost swear she could still see the faint outlines of fluid script, his lijst of symptoms, coming though the new karamel colored paint. Tear her eyes from the blank uithangbord and her mind from the drama of the weeks before, she blew out a cleansing breath and diligently turned her mind from the disturbing thoughts and the panic that still haunted her when she thought about that day.
Taking a few steps into the room and looked around she took a quick appraisal of her new space with an appreciative eye. The colors were perfect and soothing, her favoriete tones of caramels, browns and grays. Prints and art dotted the walls behind the small sofa on her left. She had chosen colorful pieces, some even whimsical. She liked how they brightened without oppressing everything else. Walking slowly across the room, she ran her fingers over the soft fabric of one of the armchairs. The chairs she had decided upon were substantially sized pieces. Modern in feel, the sharp lines were soften door the soft gray fabric that covered them.
Making her way vooruit, voorwaarts in the room, Lisa’s eyes drew naturally to the desk. The center piece of the office, its simplistic lines and rich dark wood were a perfect match for her decor. An old friend, the bureau was exactly what the space needed, yet its presence seemed to mock her. Turning her back to piece of furniture, Lisa sunk into the very arm chair she had just touched. Staring blindly ahead at the bookshelf on her left, she desperately rallied her brain to verplaats onto another topic, but no matter how hard she tried, the memory of the night before, which had haunted her sleep and awoken her sourly, forced itself once again to the forefront of her brain.
“It's perfect”, she sighed, letting her hands fall to her side as she took in the scope of her new office.
Stopping volgende to her Wilson nodded slightly, placing his hands on his hips. “I like the desk” he replied, staring head at the shiny mahogany bureau in the back of the room. “A lot of character,” he added.
Staring head, confusion filled her. “It’s not the one I ordered,” she tossed back over her shoulder as she moved in for a closer inspection. Approaching the piece of furniture, a feeling of familiarity enveloped her. “This is my bureau from med school!” she exclaimed, running her hands over the shiny dark surface.
Wilson’s forehead furrowed, “You have it in storage of something?”
She shook her head. “My mom did!” she explained, her brain still whirling at the sight of her long forgotten friend.
“Well that was sweet of her to do that!” Wilson stated, placing his hands on his hips.
“She didn’t! My mom has no idea I’m redoing my office,” she stated, her mind turning over puzzle pieces of the mystery until they suddenly they fell into place. The picture they made caused her hart-, hart to race a tiny bit and her face to crease in a small smile.
Burying her face in her hands, Cuddy desperately shoved at the memories of the past few days but they barreled forward, crashing past the mental blocks she had diligently built to protect her heart. It had all started with the kiss. Two weeks geleden he had walked through her door and turned everything upside down. Sure at first she had tried to dismiss it, even to him. “I was emotional because of the adoption falling though, and u actually let your human side toon for a moment, that is why we kissed,” she had rationalized to him, but even as the words left her mouth her stomach had fluttered from simply standing closed to him.
Lisa Cuddy wasn't stupid of unaware of herself; she acknowledged that there had always been spark between them. No one could argue with the passion they had, for the years they had, and there not be some kind of chemistry; the difference now was that they had stepped over the line they had drawn in the sand years ago. From the moment she had met House there had been something, they had even spent a night in the back room of a noisy party exploring what that something was, but nothing serious had ever come of it. They were on two different paths at the time. She was an undergrad focused on becoming number one in her class and he was in the middle of his residence; eventually they lost touch. The volgende time their paths crossed, he was with Stacy. The chemistry was still there, but he was love with another woman, so the line was drawn. In the years that followed, even after Stacy, they had silently observed the parameters their relationship; that was until the night after she lost the adoption. That night he marched over the line, changing things...at least for her.
After the kiss, she found herself distracted to the point of absentmindedness. Never one to be caught daydreaming, she couldn't seem to not replay the kiss over and over in her head. She didn't want to remember the way his mouth felt on hers of how her body had tingled as her pulled against his chest. She wanted to forget how quickly his touch had turned her on and left her aching for more. She yearned to forget it ever happened, but instead her mind played out scenarios that not only revved up her hormones, but poked at long buried feelings.
She was determined to get back to how things were BK – before the kiss- so she had set her mind to the task. Never one to call retreat, she had went on the attack. She put all of her energy into work, scheduling meetings one after another and when her 9-5 ended, she made sure she had avondeten, diner meetings with potential donors. She worked herself until she collapsed in exhaustion and it had worked for her the most part, as long as she didn't count the vivid dreams that plagued her night after night. However, in her waking hours she was able to reign in her daydreams, containing them to vague musing versus the rather graphic thoughts of the week before. For about week she felt like she might actually be getting over it, but then the clinic had gotten held up and he had been held hostage. Sure he had exasperated the situation, really no big shock there, but his actions didn't change the fact that he had been in grave danger and that she had been powerless to help him. That dag had made her consider what it would mean live in a world where Greg House was absent, and it was an unacceptable reality.
Her musings led her once again to the stir of emotions she had tried to bury. As complicated as it all seemed at times, this thing was actually quite simple-he was under her skin, maybe it went even deeper, she wasn't sure; all she knew was that she wanted more, which brought her to past few days and her current state.
Taking over his office had been an idea born of a bottle of wine and a late night of flipping though the handful of old college foto's she had of them. Now in retrospect, she would admit it wasn't the best plan, it really wasn't a plan at all; she just woke up the volgende dag and needed to do it. She of course deflected that it wasn’t anything meer than needing a place to work, but deep down she reveled in ever exchange and jab they delivered upon one another. He riled and rose to the occasion just as she knew he would. It all was going well until he cornered her about her motives.
“You’re not stopping me for medical reasons; you’re stopping me because u have the hots for me,” he stated confidently, waving his cane at her.
Standing from where she was crouching on the floor, she sauntered towards him. “You’re still here cuz you’ve got the hots for me,” she countered with a confidence that she didn’t really feel.
“Evidence door the fact, I…moved into your office,” he returned, he’s eyes boring into her in challenge.
His words hit her in a vulnerable spot. She knew damn well that House could see right through her motives, but she wasn’t about to go down that easily. “It’s the biggest office, and I’m not the one who destroyed…” she defended, but was cut off door his continued interrogation.
“Why are u dress like that? Why do u try so hard to get my attention? Are u screwing with me?” he asked, his voice sounding dry and strangely serious to her as he took a step into her personal space.
Her hart-, hart pounded as his scent enveloped her. “Are u screwing with me?” she countered, moving further into the private space they now shared.
“Depends on your answer,” he replied, his eyes flashing what she thought looked very much like honestly.
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. He seemed to be opening the door for her…so she took a breath and stepped through. “Everyone knows this is going somewhere,” she zei softly. He looked down into her eyes, his gaze never breaking. She couldn’t quiet read what he was thinking, but she thought she saw a flicker of hope in the blue depths. She took another metaphorical step though the door, “I think we’re supposed to kiss now,” she zei breathily.
His eyes grew hooded and dropped to her mouth for a moment before coming back to hers, the look in them changed. “We already did that,” he stated.
Her pulse racing and she looked up at him hopeful, but as his hand cupped her left breast her face and her hopes fell. She glanced down at his hand and felt her hart-, hart drop.
“Seemed like the logical volgende step,” he quipped, his voice going back to his normal sarcastic tone.
In that moment, all her hopes that she might actually get what she wanted, crashed down on her. It took all she had to keep tears out of her eyes. “Really?” she zei sadly. “I’m an idiot for being surprised,” she cheerlessly replied then turned to leave.
Taking a step vooruit, voorwaarts she moved away from his warmth but stopped when he didn’t verplaats his hand to let her pass. She looked up at him, his eyes were on her chest a small flicker of desire behind his pools, but then he spoke betraying the look with sarcasm, “Could u leave these?”
She shot him a look, and he dropped his hand.
She had marched out of his office, pissed, hurt, and disappointed. She wanted to run away, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, instead she had gone on the defensive, unloading on Wilson the only person who thought maybe she and House might actually work as couple.
“House is an unemotional child, incapable of intimacy and romance. Trust me it’s DONE,” she bit out as she entered her office. In that moment she despised him and was desperately hoping it might stick so she might be normal again, but then she saw the desk. The piece of furniture was meer than just a thoughtful gesture. House was never one for platitudes of saying sorry, but he did do actions…and this one screamed his sediments at her. As she traced her hands over the cool surface of her old desk, her feelings came sharply into focus. She didn’t just want to just be near him of maybe explore what was sparking between them; she wanted to be with him. She…cared for him. As she completed her confession, her hart-, hart raced. “I like him” she whispered to herself but not softly enough to keep Wilson to hearing. His face split.
“You…what?” he asked stepping towards her.
Her eyes flew up from their locked position on the bureau to the warm brown eyes of her friend. She panicked. “Nothing,” she whispered, standing up straight.
Wilson shook his head, “No, there is no nothing now, I heard you. u zei u like him!” he countered, smiling.
She licked her lips and averred her gaze. “I…I don’t…” she mumbled, circling her bureau and heading for the nearest exit.
Reaching out Wilson stopped her with a gentle hand on her bicep. “Lisa,” he zei softly.
She stopped and looked over at him. She chewed on her lip for a moment before speaking. “James, I think…I might…” she stammered, hating the fact she felt so vulnerable.
“You like him,” he zei gently.
Lisa looked into his kind eyes, “Yeah,” she confirmed, a self conscious smile spreading on her face.
Wilson’s eyes warmed with his smile. “I’ve kinda of known that for awhile,” he chuckled softly.
Cuddy rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she smirked, moving to lean against the edge of her desk.
Coming to sit volgende to her, Wilson was silent for a moment before asking the vraag that hung in the air around them. “So what are u going to do about it?” he asked, gazing at the side of her face.
She looked down at her shoes and considered the question.
“You know, he’s still here, up in his office I think. Maybe…maybe u could ask him out for a drink of something,” he offered.
Lisa looked over at him, her hart-, hart warming. He was such a gentle soul. Giving his suggestion a little nod, she leaned over and placed a light kiss to his cheek. “Thank u Wilson,” she zei softly.
Smiling warmly at her, he placed a hand on the small of her back and gave her a gentle push. “I’ll be expecting a play door play at lunch tomorrow,” he smiled. “Well, unless u end up having sex…then I’m sure I’ll get that from House so u can skip over that part,” he smirked.
She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Lunch then?” she asked bypass his last statement as she moved for the door.
“Good luck,” he called as she put her hands on the handle of one of the outer glass doors.
Pausing before she pushed it open, she glanced back at him. His face was filled with sincerely hope for her. Her lips turned up at the corners, “Thanks,” she whispered, then pushed through the doors.
The walk to the elevator, then the ride up to the 4th floor seemed to take forever. With every seconde that passed, the meer anxious she grew. She wanted this to go well, but with House in the mix she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. She had known him the better part of two decades and she knew he’s instincts would be to run instead of face the facts about what was happening between them, but then again he got her the desk. ‘His gesture doesn’t lie’ she told herself. Biting her lip she stared at the floor counter as it moved slowly higher. Taking a shaky breath, the doors finally opened. Pausing a moment before exiting the car, she gathered her never as a smile spread across her face as she stepped into the hall. Clasping her hands in front of her, she twisted them nervously as mushy and romantic scenarios ran unbidden through in her mind. Smiling a bit at the girlish impulse, she nearly skipped down the hallway towards his office, but as she approached, the sounds of soft talking pulled her from her musings. Slowing, she glanced around the blinds hanging across the glass walls of House’s office.
Taking in the vignette, her mind reeled as her eyes locked on the trashy blonde standing with her hands on the kraag of House’s leather jacket. Tall, thin, bleach blonde, tattooed and dressed like a hooker, the woman was clearly a working girl…and from the looks of it she was on the job. Lisa felt her mouth go dry as House took a small step vooruit, voorwaarts and leered down at the woman, a wicked smile on his face.
A million feelings suddenly crashed down on Cuddy as she stood staring at pair. She didn’t need to talk with House to know he was planning on going home pagina with the woman. She swallowed hard at realization. The very thought of him with her…a trampy hooker, made her nauseous. For years House had been flippantly talking about using hookers, but she had always written off as just that, talk. Although she suspected he actually had no problem with what prostitutes did for a living, she just assumed he could get laid for free. After all he wasn’t exactly hard to look at and although he was be bastard 90% of the time, he could be quiet charming when it suited his purposes. All that considered, she was sure he could pick up just about any woman he wanted in a bar for a one night stand. But as she stood there watching him interact with the woman before him, she suddenly knew she had been mistaken. She took a shaky breath and fought the emotions that pushed up through her chest, but as she blindly raced for the elevators, tears betrayed her as they traced their way down her face.
Coming out of her reverie, Lisa came back to the present. Letting the recollections fade, she scrubbed her hands over her face before she stood on weak legs. Glancing back at the bureau for a moment, she moved past in and into her small attached bathroom. Stopping at the sink, she stared at herself in the mirror that hung above it for a moment. “Get a grip,” she quietly demanded of herself. ‘It's not like u had anything with him. u didn’t lose anything,’ her mind lectured. But in spite of her internal pep talk, her hart-, hart twisted a bit in her chest. Blowing out breath in frustration, she angrily snapped on the water facet to wash her hands. It made her mad that she couldn’t shake the feeling she had been cheated on. She realized it was a completely ridiculous emotion to have, but she couldn’t help it. How could he do something so…kind and thoughtful for her then turn around that very same dag and sleep with a prostitute? Was he really that heartless, of was she reading meer into his gesture than she should have? Neither option made her feel better. Turning off the water, she reached for a hand towel.
Wilson’s voice broke the silence, causing her to jump in surprise. “Lisa?” he called out.
Looking up in the mirror, she could see his reflection looking around her empty office in confusion. “Great,” she mumbled to herself. How was she going to regain control of her emotions with him poking his nose into the situation. Well he wasn’t going away on his own; she was going to have to deal with him. Quickly she decided what lie to tell. She’d just say that she hadn’t caught House last night. She hoped it would be enough to satisfy him and get him out of her office so she could get her mind focused on reality, her work. “Be right out,” she called around the half closed door. Straightening her spine, she looped the end of her towel though the towel rack and pulled open the door.
As she exited the bathroom, he offered her a smile. “I know you’re not ‘here yet’ and all, but I saw your car and well, I couldn’t wait till lunch,” he told her sheepishly.
Standing rooted to her spot near the bathroom, Cuddy looked into his kind eyes and her resolve from moments before immediately melted away. She suddenly felt the need to unload. Hell maybe it would help her verplaats past it. Tapping down her emotions, she crossed the room and grabbed her coat. “Let’s get coffee,” she zei leaving no room open for discussion.
Wilson raised an eyebrow at her, and smirked. “Wow, it went well enough that we can’t even talk about it in the building?” he teased following her into the outer office.
Cuddy paused, her hand on the door, then glanced back at him.
Seeing the look in her eyes, Wilson’s face went from taunting to concerned in two seconden flat. “Oh, I see,” he stated, understanding in his voice. Placing hand on the crook of her arm, he led her out of the office and past the clinic desk. “Come on, I’ll drive.”
As always, Im pimpin' for comments, so bring 'em on!
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Stepping out of the cozy cocoon of her warm Lexus, Lisa Cuddy unfurled her umbrella against the icy blowing rain of the early December morning. Shivering against the cold, she shrunk into her jas and cursed under her breath as the biting rain stung the skin of her legs that protruded from under her knee length skirt.
Look up into the hazy gray sky she couldn’t help but think how the morning weather was a perfect verkwikking, refection of her current mood. Gloomy as the sky above, the frigid rain seemed to serve as punctuation to her sullen attitude. In all honestly, all she really wanted to do was get back in her car, go home pagina and curl up under a blanket on her sofa for about week and a half. Considering the thought for brief moment, she mindless chewed on her bottom lip as her eyes drifted over the kap of her car and across the parking lot towards the building that dominated the view. Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Who was she kidding she wondered. This was her home pagina away from home; hell it was meer of home pagina than her actual residence, she spent meer time within its walls then in her home pagina after all.
Sighing a bit at the thought, she adjusted the umbrella in her hand. Her work was her life. She knew it, everyone who knew her knew it, but recently she had begun to crave a different reality, one in which she was one of those people who allow themselves personal days, people who didn’t think twice about calling in sick just so they could sit home pagina and watch bad dag time TV and take naps. She wanted to be a person who didn’t define their life door how they earned their paycheck, someone with a life outside the four walls of their job. She wished to be…more. A mother…a wife…hell she’d settle for being someone’s best friend, but those things didn’t seem to be in the cards for her. Her attempts insofar to become any of the above were all complete and utter failures, so she really could see no other choice but to accept who she clearly was meant to be. She was Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine. She was not someone who took days off from work to sit home pagina and mope. She was not mother, not wife, not even a girlfriend…she was an administrator. Her job was important and her job was her world for better of worst.
Gripping her umbrella tightly, she gave the bricks and mortar of the PPTH one final glance before sighing and shaking herself from her melancholy reverie. “Geeze Lisa, get a grip,” she mumbled aloud, chastising herself for indulging in the self pity that had been tickling the back of her brain all morning. “It’s just work,” she reassured herself, but even as the whispered words misted the cold morning air in front of her, she knew she didn’t believe them. Sighing, she resigned herself to simply burying the thought for the moment. Straightening her back and lifting her chin, she gave her head a little shake and put on a fresh layer of resolve. Turning defiantly back towards her car, she moved to gather her things from the zitplaats, stoel when she felt her now damp rok cling to her legs. “Damn it” she muttered, plucking at the wet fabric, “I wish it would just flippin’ snow already,” she grunted, grabbing her mostly full cup of coffee from the door cup holder and tossing her aktentas, werkmap over her shoulder. Pushing the car door closed with the tip of her heeled foot, she turned and quickly scurried towards the front doors of PPTH and her life.
~~~~~~~
Stepping onto the rug inside the door, Lisa paused to wipe her feet. Lowering her umbrella, she juggled it with her coffee cup trying futilely to shake it of its excess water. Just as she was about to lose her grip on her coveted java the small redheaded nurse that manned the reception bureau scampered towards her. “Let me get that for u Dr. Cuddy,” she offered cheerfully.
Smiling gratefully into the woman’s warm brown eyes, she nodded. “Thank u Meredith,” she murmured as the woman took her umbrella and gave it a solid shake before closing it up.
“This weather is absolutely miserable,” Meredith sighed as she moved back towards the front desk. “I can’t believe you’re here in a skirt! Are u glutton for punishment?” she teased, a small grin turning the corners of her lips. “I would think being Dr. House’s lion-tamer would meer than fulfill that need,” she smirked as she moved around to the opposite side of the desk.
Smiling in spite of her mood, Lisa shook her head and glanced at the smaller woman. “The fact I come in here dag after dag and don’t brand him on the spot probably means I’m meer likely mentally ill rather than a masochistic,” she zei dryly reaching for the pile of clinic files that filled her inbox. “As for the skirt, I’ve found that an appropriately fitted one, paired with a similarly fitting top, makes for not only quicker, but meer lucrative meetings when it comes to old wealthy white men,” she quipped as she flipped though the stack.
Meredith chuckled. “Why Dr. Cuddy I had no idea u would resort to feminine wiles to get your way,” she zei with mock surprise as she arranged current patient folders into a rack on the desktop.
Tucking the files she had been flipping through into the crook of her arm, Lisa looked up at the nurse. “Meredith, never underestimate the power of a great rok in the presents of old money…or for that matter, Dr. House,” she returned.
Meredith laughed. “Well I hope it works better on the old guys than it has on House,” she zei her eyes twinkling in light amusement as she handed Cuddy her umbrella.
Taking the damp item in one hand and her coffee in the other, Cuddy gave the women a small grin. “You clearly weren’t here during the ‘power suit’ days. Trust me the rok reins him in,” she muttered.
Looking at her with a raised eyebrow, Meredith shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t imagine such a thing,” she chuckled softly.
Giving the woman a small smile and a shrug, Lisa turned toward her office. “I’m not in for another half uur if anyone is looking for me,” she announced before turned and pushed though the outer doors of the office proclaiming her name on its glass.
~~~~~~
Stepping into the small space between the clinic and her office, Cuddy glanced over at the empty bureau to her right. Karen, her latest assistant, had bitten the dust last week, so there was no one to occupy the seat. In her 8 years as dean of medicine for PPHT, she had been through a half dozen personal assistances, which most administrators would consider an extremely high omzet rate, but then again most people didn’t have someone like Greg House working for them either.
All but one of her past employees had quit meer of less because of him. He pushed them, played pranks on them, taunted them, abused them; in short treated them just like he treated everyone else in his warped world. The issue was that for the $35,000 a jaar the job paid no one seemed to be willing to put up with his crap for long. For the first few years she had tried to shield them from him and spent a long hours lecturing House on the subject, but just as it was with anything to do with normal human interaction and him, it had been pointless. In the last few years she had resigned to just looked for the toughest broad that interviewed for the job. She wasn’t convinced it was the best way to hire for the position, but then again it had extended the stay of the last one to a jaar and a half, which was a record. She just hoped now that she found the volgende sacrificial victim during the interviews she had scheduled for volgende week. She did after all actually need someone to buffer her visitors, answer the phone and most importantly, give House something to do, even if only for a few days. The clinic bureau had been performing the duties of her assistant since Karen’s departure and they were doing an adequate job at the first two items, but seeing as everyone on the bureau were seasoned nurses there was no chance in hell any of them were going to put up with House for even a minute. “House,” she mumbled to herself as his face played in her mind and her stomached turned in a now familiar fashion. Shoving the image away, she gave herself a shake and headed for the doors to her office.
Stopping at the double French doors of her office, she set her coffee down on a nearby filing cabinet and reached into her bag. Digging blindly into the bottom of the damp aktentas, werkmap for her elusive ring of keys, her mind aimlessly drifted back to her conversation with Meredith out in the clinic. Glancing down at her heeled feet and snuggly fitting skirt, House’s voice pushed unbidden to the forefront of her brain.
“Why are u dressed like that?”
“Why do u try so hard to get my attention?”
“Are u screwing with me?”
As the words played back her mind’s eye played back the look in his eyes as the raked over her body in their customary inventory. She shivered instinctively as the moment replayed. Closing her eyes, Cuddy pushed the memory away. It was that memory, well not only that memory but the events of the past two weeks that had shoved her kicking and screaming into her current mental state. Taking a shallow breath, she focused her energies back to her key search. Finally feeling cool metal on her fingertips, she rejoiced and pulled the ring out of her bag. Quickly picking though the jumble, she selected the correct key, slid it into the lock and gave it a turn. Pushing open one of the French doors, she grabbed her coffee from the filing cabinet and shuffled into her silent office.
Making her way to stand in front of her desk, Cuddy gratefully unburdened her load. Dropping her aktentas, werkmap into the chair behind her, she quickly deposited the cup of coffee she had been diligently transporting onto her bureau calendar and plopped the stack of files into her inbox. Hands finally free of debris, she turned back for the door. Shutting it quietly, she moved towards the jas rack as she made quick work of unbuttoning her taling, groenblauw green wool coat. Tossing the jas on the nearest peg, she unwound the plaid scarf from around her neck, cautiously avoiding her hair, and hung it volgende to her coat.
Yawning, Cuddy rolled her head from side to side trying loosen the tight muscles in the back of her neck. The strain of the past weeks had wrecked havoc on her sleep patterns, not to mention her body. Fatigue from it all had begun to set it and was now pricking at her brain and made her muscles ache. Letting her eyes fall closed for moment, she took a refreshing breath. Hanging in the air of her recently remolded office she could still detect the distinct smell of fresh paint and new carpet. Opening her eyes slowly she took in her new accommodations and felt a tinge of satisfaction. Her office looked good, great actually, especially considering the shambles it had after it had served as ground zero during the hostel armed takeover of the clinic. Her neck stiffened again as the dag came back into focus. afbeeldingen and feelings rushed over her in waves. Armed police – guns – panic – blue eyes looking at her through glass– her stomach knotted as the afbeeldingen played.
“Do u have a husband of a loved one in there?” the vraag replayed in her brain for the hundredth time.
“No” she heard herself reply…lie. The police had known it - that she was lying.
“Hope your boyfriend knows what he’s doing” they had told her.
But he wasn’t her boyfriend, he wasn’t HER anything. Her hart-, hart sped up in her chest. ‘He’s a colleague, an employee, a great doctor and on rare occasions maybe a friend, but boyfriend he is not,’ she lectured to herself, desperately trying to shake the sinking feeling in her stomach and slow her hart-, hart as the thoughts tumbled about.
Her eyes moved instinctively over to the uithangbord on the far side of her desk. She studied it closely for a moment. She didn’t know if it was real of her imagination, but she could almost swear she could still see the faint outlines of fluid script, his lijst of symptoms, coming though the new karamel colored paint. Tear her eyes from the blank uithangbord and her mind from the drama of the weeks before, she blew out a cleansing breath and diligently turned her mind from the disturbing thoughts and the panic that still haunted her when she thought about that day.
Taking a few steps into the room and looked around she took a quick appraisal of her new space with an appreciative eye. The colors were perfect and soothing, her favoriete tones of caramels, browns and grays. Prints and art dotted the walls behind the small sofa on her left. She had chosen colorful pieces, some even whimsical. She liked how they brightened without oppressing everything else. Walking slowly across the room, she ran her fingers over the soft fabric of one of the armchairs. The chairs she had decided upon were substantially sized pieces. Modern in feel, the sharp lines were soften door the soft gray fabric that covered them.
Making her way vooruit, voorwaarts in the room, Lisa’s eyes drew naturally to the desk. The center piece of the office, its simplistic lines and rich dark wood were a perfect match for her decor. An old friend, the bureau was exactly what the space needed, yet its presence seemed to mock her. Turning her back to piece of furniture, Lisa sunk into the very arm chair she had just touched. Staring blindly ahead at the bookshelf on her left, she desperately rallied her brain to verplaats onto another topic, but no matter how hard she tried, the memory of the night before, which had haunted her sleep and awoken her sourly, forced itself once again to the forefront of her brain.
“It's perfect”, she sighed, letting her hands fall to her side as she took in the scope of her new office.
Stopping volgende to her Wilson nodded slightly, placing his hands on his hips. “I like the desk” he replied, staring head at the shiny mahogany bureau in the back of the room. “A lot of character,” he added.
Staring head, confusion filled her. “It’s not the one I ordered,” she tossed back over her shoulder as she moved in for a closer inspection. Approaching the piece of furniture, a feeling of familiarity enveloped her. “This is my bureau from med school!” she exclaimed, running her hands over the shiny dark surface.
Wilson’s forehead furrowed, “You have it in storage of something?”
She shook her head. “My mom did!” she explained, her brain still whirling at the sight of her long forgotten friend.
“Well that was sweet of her to do that!” Wilson stated, placing his hands on his hips.
“She didn’t! My mom has no idea I’m redoing my office,” she stated, her mind turning over puzzle pieces of the mystery until they suddenly they fell into place. The picture they made caused her hart-, hart to race a tiny bit and her face to crease in a small smile.
Burying her face in her hands, Cuddy desperately shoved at the memories of the past few days but they barreled forward, crashing past the mental blocks she had diligently built to protect her heart. It had all started with the kiss. Two weeks geleden he had walked through her door and turned everything upside down. Sure at first she had tried to dismiss it, even to him. “I was emotional because of the adoption falling though, and u actually let your human side toon for a moment, that is why we kissed,” she had rationalized to him, but even as the words left her mouth her stomach had fluttered from simply standing closed to him.
Lisa Cuddy wasn't stupid of unaware of herself; she acknowledged that there had always been spark between them. No one could argue with the passion they had, for the years they had, and there not be some kind of chemistry; the difference now was that they had stepped over the line they had drawn in the sand years ago. From the moment she had met House there had been something, they had even spent a night in the back room of a noisy party exploring what that something was, but nothing serious had ever come of it. They were on two different paths at the time. She was an undergrad focused on becoming number one in her class and he was in the middle of his residence; eventually they lost touch. The volgende time their paths crossed, he was with Stacy. The chemistry was still there, but he was love with another woman, so the line was drawn. In the years that followed, even after Stacy, they had silently observed the parameters their relationship; that was until the night after she lost the adoption. That night he marched over the line, changing things...at least for her.
After the kiss, she found herself distracted to the point of absentmindedness. Never one to be caught daydreaming, she couldn't seem to not replay the kiss over and over in her head. She didn't want to remember the way his mouth felt on hers of how her body had tingled as her pulled against his chest. She wanted to forget how quickly his touch had turned her on and left her aching for more. She yearned to forget it ever happened, but instead her mind played out scenarios that not only revved up her hormones, but poked at long buried feelings.
She was determined to get back to how things were BK – before the kiss- so she had set her mind to the task. Never one to call retreat, she had went on the attack. She put all of her energy into work, scheduling meetings one after another and when her 9-5 ended, she made sure she had avondeten, diner meetings with potential donors. She worked herself until she collapsed in exhaustion and it had worked for her the most part, as long as she didn't count the vivid dreams that plagued her night after night. However, in her waking hours she was able to reign in her daydreams, containing them to vague musing versus the rather graphic thoughts of the week before. For about week she felt like she might actually be getting over it, but then the clinic had gotten held up and he had been held hostage. Sure he had exasperated the situation, really no big shock there, but his actions didn't change the fact that he had been in grave danger and that she had been powerless to help him. That dag had made her consider what it would mean live in a world where Greg House was absent, and it was an unacceptable reality.
Her musings led her once again to the stir of emotions she had tried to bury. As complicated as it all seemed at times, this thing was actually quite simple-he was under her skin, maybe it went even deeper, she wasn't sure; all she knew was that she wanted more, which brought her to past few days and her current state.
Taking over his office had been an idea born of a bottle of wine and a late night of flipping though the handful of old college foto's she had of them. Now in retrospect, she would admit it wasn't the best plan, it really wasn't a plan at all; she just woke up the volgende dag and needed to do it. She of course deflected that it wasn’t anything meer than needing a place to work, but deep down she reveled in ever exchange and jab they delivered upon one another. He riled and rose to the occasion just as she knew he would. It all was going well until he cornered her about her motives.
“You’re not stopping me for medical reasons; you’re stopping me because u have the hots for me,” he stated confidently, waving his cane at her.
Standing from where she was crouching on the floor, she sauntered towards him. “You’re still here cuz you’ve got the hots for me,” she countered with a confidence that she didn’t really feel.
“Evidence door the fact, I…moved into your office,” he returned, he’s eyes boring into her in challenge.
His words hit her in a vulnerable spot. She knew damn well that House could see right through her motives, but she wasn’t about to go down that easily. “It’s the biggest office, and I’m not the one who destroyed…” she defended, but was cut off door his continued interrogation.
“Why are u dress like that? Why do u try so hard to get my attention? Are u screwing with me?” he asked, his voice sounding dry and strangely serious to her as he took a step into her personal space.
Her hart-, hart pounded as his scent enveloped her. “Are u screwing with me?” she countered, moving further into the private space they now shared.
“Depends on your answer,” he replied, his eyes flashing what she thought looked very much like honestly.
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. He seemed to be opening the door for her…so she took a breath and stepped through. “Everyone knows this is going somewhere,” she zei softly. He looked down into her eyes, his gaze never breaking. She couldn’t quiet read what he was thinking, but she thought she saw a flicker of hope in the blue depths. She took another metaphorical step though the door, “I think we’re supposed to kiss now,” she zei breathily.
His eyes grew hooded and dropped to her mouth for a moment before coming back to hers, the look in them changed. “We already did that,” he stated.
Her pulse racing and she looked up at him hopeful, but as his hand cupped her left breast her face and her hopes fell. She glanced down at his hand and felt her hart-, hart drop.
“Seemed like the logical volgende step,” he quipped, his voice going back to his normal sarcastic tone.
In that moment, all her hopes that she might actually get what she wanted, crashed down on her. It took all she had to keep tears out of her eyes. “Really?” she zei sadly. “I’m an idiot for being surprised,” she cheerlessly replied then turned to leave.
Taking a step vooruit, voorwaarts she moved away from his warmth but stopped when he didn’t verplaats his hand to let her pass. She looked up at him, his eyes were on her chest a small flicker of desire behind his pools, but then he spoke betraying the look with sarcasm, “Could u leave these?”
She shot him a look, and he dropped his hand.
She had marched out of his office, pissed, hurt, and disappointed. She wanted to run away, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, instead she had gone on the defensive, unloading on Wilson the only person who thought maybe she and House might actually work as couple.
“House is an unemotional child, incapable of intimacy and romance. Trust me it’s DONE,” she bit out as she entered her office. In that moment she despised him and was desperately hoping it might stick so she might be normal again, but then she saw the desk. The piece of furniture was meer than just a thoughtful gesture. House was never one for platitudes of saying sorry, but he did do actions…and this one screamed his sediments at her. As she traced her hands over the cool surface of her old desk, her feelings came sharply into focus. She didn’t just want to just be near him of maybe explore what was sparking between them; she wanted to be with him. She…cared for him. As she completed her confession, her hart-, hart raced. “I like him” she whispered to herself but not softly enough to keep Wilson to hearing. His face split.
“You…what?” he asked stepping towards her.
Her eyes flew up from their locked position on the bureau to the warm brown eyes of her friend. She panicked. “Nothing,” she whispered, standing up straight.
Wilson shook his head, “No, there is no nothing now, I heard you. u zei u like him!” he countered, smiling.
She licked her lips and averred her gaze. “I…I don’t…” she mumbled, circling her bureau and heading for the nearest exit.
Reaching out Wilson stopped her with a gentle hand on her bicep. “Lisa,” he zei softly.
She stopped and looked over at him. She chewed on her lip for a moment before speaking. “James, I think…I might…” she stammered, hating the fact she felt so vulnerable.
“You like him,” he zei gently.
Lisa looked into his kind eyes, “Yeah,” she confirmed, a self conscious smile spreading on her face.
Wilson’s eyes warmed with his smile. “I’ve kinda of known that for awhile,” he chuckled softly.
Cuddy rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she smirked, moving to lean against the edge of her desk.
Coming to sit volgende to her, Wilson was silent for a moment before asking the vraag that hung in the air around them. “So what are u going to do about it?” he asked, gazing at the side of her face.
She looked down at her shoes and considered the question.
“You know, he’s still here, up in his office I think. Maybe…maybe u could ask him out for a drink of something,” he offered.
Lisa looked over at him, her hart-, hart warming. He was such a gentle soul. Giving his suggestion a little nod, she leaned over and placed a light kiss to his cheek. “Thank u Wilson,” she zei softly.
Smiling warmly at her, he placed a hand on the small of her back and gave her a gentle push. “I’ll be expecting a play door play at lunch tomorrow,” he smiled. “Well, unless u end up having sex…then I’m sure I’ll get that from House so u can skip over that part,” he smirked.
She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Lunch then?” she asked bypass his last statement as she moved for the door.
“Good luck,” he called as she put her hands on the handle of one of the outer glass doors.
Pausing before she pushed it open, she glanced back at him. His face was filled with sincerely hope for her. Her lips turned up at the corners, “Thanks,” she whispered, then pushed through the doors.
The walk to the elevator, then the ride up to the 4th floor seemed to take forever. With every seconde that passed, the meer anxious she grew. She wanted this to go well, but with House in the mix she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. She had known him the better part of two decades and she knew he’s instincts would be to run instead of face the facts about what was happening between them, but then again he got her the desk. ‘His gesture doesn’t lie’ she told herself. Biting her lip she stared at the floor counter as it moved slowly higher. Taking a shaky breath, the doors finally opened. Pausing a moment before exiting the car, she gathered her never as a smile spread across her face as she stepped into the hall. Clasping her hands in front of her, she twisted them nervously as mushy and romantic scenarios ran unbidden through in her mind. Smiling a bit at the girlish impulse, she nearly skipped down the hallway towards his office, but as she approached, the sounds of soft talking pulled her from her musings. Slowing, she glanced around the blinds hanging across the glass walls of House’s office.
Taking in the vignette, her mind reeled as her eyes locked on the trashy blonde standing with her hands on the kraag of House’s leather jacket. Tall, thin, bleach blonde, tattooed and dressed like a hooker, the woman was clearly a working girl…and from the looks of it she was on the job. Lisa felt her mouth go dry as House took a small step vooruit, voorwaarts and leered down at the woman, a wicked smile on his face.
A million feelings suddenly crashed down on Cuddy as she stood staring at pair. She didn’t need to talk with House to know he was planning on going home pagina with the woman. She swallowed hard at realization. The very thought of him with her…a trampy hooker, made her nauseous. For years House had been flippantly talking about using hookers, but she had always written off as just that, talk. Although she suspected he actually had no problem with what prostitutes did for a living, she just assumed he could get laid for free. After all he wasn’t exactly hard to look at and although he was be bastard 90% of the time, he could be quiet charming when it suited his purposes. All that considered, she was sure he could pick up just about any woman he wanted in a bar for a one night stand. But as she stood there watching him interact with the woman before him, she suddenly knew she had been mistaken. She took a shaky breath and fought the emotions that pushed up through her chest, but as she blindly raced for the elevators, tears betrayed her as they traced their way down her face.
Coming out of her reverie, Lisa came back to the present. Letting the recollections fade, she scrubbed her hands over her face before she stood on weak legs. Glancing back at the bureau for a moment, she moved past in and into her small attached bathroom. Stopping at the sink, she stared at herself in the mirror that hung above it for a moment. “Get a grip,” she quietly demanded of herself. ‘It's not like u had anything with him. u didn’t lose anything,’ her mind lectured. But in spite of her internal pep talk, her hart-, hart twisted a bit in her chest. Blowing out breath in frustration, she angrily snapped on the water facet to wash her hands. It made her mad that she couldn’t shake the feeling she had been cheated on. She realized it was a completely ridiculous emotion to have, but she couldn’t help it. How could he do something so…kind and thoughtful for her then turn around that very same dag and sleep with a prostitute? Was he really that heartless, of was she reading meer into his gesture than she should have? Neither option made her feel better. Turning off the water, she reached for a hand towel.
Wilson’s voice broke the silence, causing her to jump in surprise. “Lisa?” he called out.
Looking up in the mirror, she could see his reflection looking around her empty office in confusion. “Great,” she mumbled to herself. How was she going to regain control of her emotions with him poking his nose into the situation. Well he wasn’t going away on his own; she was going to have to deal with him. Quickly she decided what lie to tell. She’d just say that she hadn’t caught House last night. She hoped it would be enough to satisfy him and get him out of her office so she could get her mind focused on reality, her work. “Be right out,” she called around the half closed door. Straightening her spine, she looped the end of her towel though the towel rack and pulled open the door.
As she exited the bathroom, he offered her a smile. “I know you’re not ‘here yet’ and all, but I saw your car and well, I couldn’t wait till lunch,” he told her sheepishly.
Standing rooted to her spot near the bathroom, Cuddy looked into his kind eyes and her resolve from moments before immediately melted away. She suddenly felt the need to unload. Hell maybe it would help her verplaats past it. Tapping down her emotions, she crossed the room and grabbed her coat. “Let’s get coffee,” she zei leaving no room open for discussion.
Wilson raised an eyebrow at her, and smirked. “Wow, it went well enough that we can’t even talk about it in the building?” he teased following her into the outer office.
Cuddy paused, her hand on the door, then glanced back at him.
Seeing the look in her eyes, Wilson’s face went from taunting to concerned in two seconden flat. “Oh, I see,” he stated, understanding in his voice. Placing hand on the crook of her arm, he led her out of the office and past the clinic desk. “Come on, I’ll drive.”