Chapter 3

"How is Mercy now able to afford a diagnostics department?" Wilson asked incredulously, before biting into his burger.

"Maybe they can't," House admitted. "It's a trial-basis thing. We're giving it three months."

"You're unbelievable. You convinced their dean of medicine to create a department for you from rehab?"

"I told you Vicodin was holding me back." He took a fry off Wilson's plate because he'd ordered onion rings.

"Oh, yes, you told me how you needed to get off Vicodin," Wilson sniped. "Hasn't he… I mean, like… heard of you?" he asked, still incredulous.

"You mean of my unparalleled genius?" House asked. "Yes."

"I was referring to your flagrant abuse of authority," Wilson clarified, hitting House's grasping hand with his fork.

"That too," House said. "But I was forthcoming about my pain management problem resulting from emergency surgery."

"Is that what we're calling it these days?"

"I told him I was getting clean and wanted a fresh start and that I'd be better than ever." He wiped his mouth. "Plus, he's uber-competitive with PPTH, so that didn't hurt."

"Huh," Wilson mused. "So, do you get a team?"

"I do. My old team, I hope." He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously.

"You're stealing them?"

"It's not stealing. They're mine."

"That's one perspective," Wilson agreed, restraining himself from presenting Cuddy's. "Do they actually know about this?"

"They will," House promised.

[H] [H] [H]

Cuddy was on a date. It was her fifth date with a teacher she'd met in the grocery store. Fifth date in as many months, though, since she hardly had time for him. She could feel him pressing for more intimacy from her. He would share childhood stories. Talk about his feelings. But it was all so vanilla and placid.

"So they suspended him," he told her. A colleague had gotten in trouble for accusing a kids' parents of helping him cheat on his SATs. "He has to take a leave of absence."

"Did the parents help him cheat?" Cuddy asked.

"Who knows?" The guy shrugged. "But the school thinks it wasn't his place to get involved."

"What do you think?" she asked.

He shrugged again. "I don't really care. I just get my paycheck and stay out of things, you know?"

Cuddy was so bored. She wanted a tirade, a fight, something to engage her with this guy, but he didn't stand for anything. He wanted kids, had a dog, liked skiing. But that was all he was, despite her digging.

"I think I should go," she told him abruptly. He looked taken aback. "I'm sorry. This just isn't working."

[H] [H] [H]

She didn't have to make a decision about the diagnostics department; it was slowly dissolving. Taub had come clean about the move to Mercy first, explaining that he did this job to work with House, and that location was irrelevant.

"Mercy is not nearly as strong of a hospital," Cuddy told him. "Or prestigious." She thought the latter might appeal to a certain side of Taub's nature.

"If I wanted prestige, I'd still be augmenting breasts and driving a Porsche," he told her. "The fact is, I want to work for that lunatic."

"Why?" she asked.

"Why not?"

Thirteen was next. "I don't suppose I can talk you out of it," Cuddy probed. Thirteen shook her head with her characteristic stoicism. "It's not even a permanent situation, from what I hear," Cuddy cautioned.

Thirteen shrugged. "You know House. In his own way, he always takes care of us."

Foreman, true to form, was not leaving and was still angling for the power play. When she ran into him, she couldn't help bringing up the situation and asking, "Why don't you want to follow House?"

Foreman sighed. "I will never be able to control that guy. I can't work like that." Cuddy raised her eyebrows in response and Foreman noted it. "You know what I mean. He's incredible, but… this is just the prudent professional move."

Chase quit the day after Taub and Thirteen. "Chase, are you sure about this?" Cuddy asked. "You could have a bright future here. I was considering having you take over for House." She dangled the offer like a carrot.

"I am sure," Chase insisted.

"But, wouldn't you like to get out from under him? It can't be pleasant to work in the… environment he creates."

"I don't want it to be pleasant," he said plainly. "I want it to be good. And whatever you call what he creates, he makes me a better doctor."

Cuddy considered this, and compared it to Foreman's reaction. "But aren't you always scared of his next crazy move? His unpredictable behavior. Here, you could control things."

"I'm not scared of House," Chase answered. "I've had too many years with him to be scared anymore. And I respect him too much to pretend I can replace him." He watched Cuddy, her wheels turning and her brow furrowing in thought. "Face it, Dr. Cuddy. There's only one House."

[H] [H] [H]

It was House's birthday. Cuddy wished she could forget that, but she couldn't. She wondered where he was, whether he was having any semblance of a celebration. Probably Chase had done something... a cake at least. Maybe a stripper. She wanted to call him, but thought better of it. She wanted to forget him, but couldn't manage it. It was like it had all happened yesterday.

It was a big day for her too. She'd recently had her 360-degree annual review The input of different people she worked with—board members, doctors, nurses, patients—were sent to the chairman of the board and he synthesized the contributions (along with other data) into a comprehensive review of Cuddy's performance. She'd had such a hectic day though, she hadn't had a chance to look at the results. Now that she was home, freshly showered, and had Rachel in bed, she had time. She opened her email.

A bunch of boring statistics were cited: monies raised, a decreasing number of malpractice suits, statistics from patient satisfaction surveys, etc. But at the end there was a narrative statement about her:

Dr. Cuddy's most valuable characteristics are her tenacity and perseverance. As the leader of a large, bureaucratic institution, it is vital that she remain undeterred by challenges, resilient in the face of setbacks, and committed to making things work, whatever it takes. In the work Dr. Cuddy does, come what may—from unanticipated missteps to outright mistakes—failure is not an option. She is fearless.

She sat there, considering herself from the perspective of others. She reflected on how she lived her life, the standards she held herself to, the way she approached challenging situations…

Suddenly she stood up and began getting dressed and calling her nanny while simultaneously applying makeup in a frenzied whirlwind. She was focused and determined and now couldn't wait to do this. To try. But as she bent over her sink finishing up the second black line over her lashes, she looked at herself; really looked at herself.

It shouldn't matter what she looked like; she wasn't going to seduce him into this. She was just going to be honest and do what she did in every other realm of her life. Work it.

She stopped primping and went to the front door to anxiously wait for the nanny. Once she arrived, she drove to House's to wish him a happy birthday.

[H] [H] [H]

Two hours and ten minutes after House officially turned a year older, he heard a knock on his door. On the other side stood Cuddy, in a tight pencil skirt, baggy tee shirt, and flip flops. Her hair was wet, her eyes were carefully lined, and she wore not a trace of lipstick. Her heart pounded in her chest and her knees were weak. "I am fearless," she told herself.

The door swung open and there stood House, in jeans and a tee shirt, his hair shorter and messy. His blue eyes betrayed a hint of surprise, but he said nothing, his hand on the doorknob.

"Hi," she began. He still said nothing. "You were right that I don't fight for you until I have to. Until I'm going to lose you. And you were right that I keep thinking it's supposed to be easy. And I don't listen to your perspective because I'm scared of it. I'm scared it will lead to you concluding that we don't belong together. And the irony is, all that… all that I did and didn't do just led me to losing you anyway. Really losing you this time. But you're wrong, House. If I care about you, I won't walk out and leave you. I'll stay. So I'm here to fix this." She took a deep trembling breath. "I'm here to do the work, House… if you'll let me try. Because we both made mistakes, but we were not a mistake. I refuse to believe that." She swallowed hard. "We are not a mistake."

She waited and at first they just stared at each other. She was terrified he'd close the door in her face, or worse, scold her for re-opening his wounds. He looked at her earnest face and tried to process all she'd said. They both wanted, and longed, and missed, and feared, and second-guessed themselves. Then his eyebrows knit together the slightest bit and at the same moment they lunged for each other.

He enveloped her in his arms like a treasure he'd finally found. She leaned into him to stay upright because she was shaking so hard. They kissed with an unrestrained passion that made any other kiss they'd shared pale. His hands wove into her hair and pressed into her back, pulling her closer and closer. She held his face and basked in the familiar scratch of his stubble along her skin.

"Please come back to work," she said into his mouth.

He laughed quietly. "You've made some dramatic HR changes, I see," he said back.

He stumbled backward, pulling her with him as they continued kissing. The smell of her, the feeling of her familiar shape in his arms, the sound of her breath… it was unraveling him. He'd thought this was gone forever.

As they gradually made their way deeper into his apartment, Cuddy saw a movement near the couch and her lips stilled against House's. She saw Wilson trying to sneak toward the door.

"Wilson!" she shouted, as if he'd appeared out of nowhere.

He stood there, awkwardly hunched in a tiptoe position. "Hey, Cuddy. I was… uh, was just leaving." He couldn't help grinning mischievously.

Cuddy looked at House, who was ignoring Wilson completely and just looking at Cuddy. Wilson made it to the door. "Happy birthday, House," Wilson called. "Congrats on the job offer."

"Bye, Wilson," House mumbled, still staring at Cuddy. The door closed. Cuddy looked up at him and started laughing.

"You thought I'd be alone on my birthday?" he joked.

"I was worried I'd find you with a paid companion."

House rolled his eyes. "Wilson has a fetish for me having fetishes." He pushed her back and looked her up and down. "Speaking of fetishes, this is quite an ensemble you've put together here," he teased.

"I can explain," she started.

"I don't give a crap what you're wearing," he told her neck when he pulled her close again. "As long as I can locate the zippers and buttons." He unzipped her skirt as he said it and she helped him shimmy it down her legs as they stumbled toward the bedroom.

When they reached the bed, he pulled her shirt over her head, and she returned the favor. But when they stood there in the dim light—their skin pressed together again, their arms entwined, their hands reaching—they paused. Suddenly the rush of lust and relief made space for the other feelings.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"I'm so scared," he whispered back. "But I miss you. All the time."

"House, we will work. Every day, every moment, I will work on us. I am tenacious and perseverant. I am undeterred in the face of a challenge."

"Are you reading self-help books?" he asked.

"Shut up." She looked at him with seriousness.

House bent to press his forehead to hers. "I promise you," he told her, his heart in his throat and on his sleeve, "I will never cheat on you. You're it, Cuddy. The one. But please, promise me—" he began, but she cut him off to make the promise that she knew he needed. That he deserved.

"I promise I will not leave you. I will not leave you again." Her eyes filled with tears and this time she let them fall. "We are like your leg, House. Your leg was part of your identity, both on a vanity level and a deeper level. It was part of your intentions for your life. Lopping the thing off was just too much to bear, even though everyone told you that it was foolish not to." She saw him watching her talk, his eyes flitting from her eyes to her mouth. "You stand by your decision because even if it hurts and missteps, it works. And you… you are part of my identity. My vanity. My intentions. This relationship is what it is, and whether people think it is the right decision or not, I do. We work." She ran her hand over his cheek. "Even if we limp."

House smiled. "Hot baths and massages help."

She smiled back. "So let's try more of that. For starters."

He kissed her again and they fumbled onto the bed, too wrapped up in each other to disengage their limbs properly. As they tumbled together onto the sheets, their mouths found inches of skin from memory—the part that tickled or elicited a sigh or moan; the small area that tasted like the person they hadn't stopped loving.

They lay on the bed next to each other, propped on their sides. House slowly ran his hand up and down the curves of her body, alternatingly taking in the sight of her nakedness and looking at her face, checking that this was real.

He was thinking it so he said it. "God, I missed you," he confessed. "I thought it would get easier over time. But it didn't."

"I didn't know how to find you again," she told him.

He kissed her gently and rolled her back, unhooking her bra and tossing it somewhere into the dim room. "I was right where you left me." He shifted over her as she pulled off his pants. When her naked legs were around his naked hips he let himself fully exhale and let go of any remaining hesitations. The truth was, no matter how far they moved away from each other, they always came back together. That, he supposed, was his answer for Nolan. That was love.

He told her this as he moved inside her. He murmured things about aching and obsessing and longing. She breathed against his neck again, ran her nose along his jaw. She answered his whispered proclamations with her own, about regretting, and hoping, and promising. His hands slid between her back and the mattress and he held her completely when she came beneath him, tearing up again at the relief of having realized what had been in front of her the whole time. When he pressed his head to her chest and pushed with abandon, moaning his own climax into the sliver of air between them, she felt how he was trusting her with his heart in a way that didn't come naturally to him, but came naturally to them. She fully took up the responsibility of it this time. So when he moaned, "Cuddy," she answered "I'm here."