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[mmkaternater]

It had been a month since Don Herrot had smoothed a ballcap over his surgically-deepened hairline and left to go back to his fourteen-states-spread auto maintenance routine -- albeit at a slightly reduced speed limit. In a month's time, things around Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital had gone back to normal gear, too. House had returned to work the day after her visit and had seemed to favour his leg only slightly more than usual. He had agreed to an MRI, but neither Cuddy nor Wilson had been able to catch him long enough to wrangle him out of his distressed jeans and into a hospital gown -- even though Wilson had commented that Cuddy was now in a better position to do so. Clinic duty was shirked, patient rights were violated, and there was always a nurse on duty to watch the status of any expensive equipment that might meet with House's "special attention."

In other words, it was business as usual.

Outside of business was a trickier, cagier creature. It had been an unspoken agreement from the onset of this Unnamed Thing between the two of them that House's apartment should be the command center of things to be consumated. It had just seemed more practical. His place was on a leyline between the hospital and her home and driving from one to the other was a three-point process that Cuddy undertook both before and afterhours. House had couched himself in her home only a few times -- once for breaking and entering, another for a midnight panty raid that produced no goods but allowed him to cop a feel -- and it was a kind of Mecca environment to the both of them that forced all conversation surrounding it to be conducted in whispers.

So when she had formally invited him (as formal as an invitation could get when you were slung half across your invitee with your skirt bunched up around your hips) and he'd accepted, it changed the dymanic. A sort of exposure of those parts of Lisa Cuddy that she strived to keep as hidden as possible: bookshelves stuffed with titles she didn't reveal to anyone else; how her closets were organized; the new paint on the walls and why she chose the colour. It was a nest of intrigue and inquiry and House's natural curiosity compass would go mad trying to dissect it all.

She had lit a fire -- the last of the year -- and had ordained herself in casual clothes. Wine had been opened and tannins allowed to mellow. He was due at 7:00.

It was 7:12.

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[addxcted.livejournal.com]

Eyes were dancing with amusement at her response, watching in casual regard as she retrieved her glass and rebuttaled over its rim, eyes clearly not as sharp as her words would have liked them to give the allusion of being.

"..Yeah." He wouldn't deny it. He most likely would have been, and would continue to be, if she'd given him that sort of hand in their relationship that early on. Where they stood now, years of headbutting leading up to their current point; well, it made things easier to handle on a rhythmic level. They were familiar with one another enough to handle two alpha personalities in a relationship.

"..but I could have taught you so much more about Practical Anatomy." More than his hours of tormenting her (he'd continued to sit next to her for the remainder of the class save the week the professor had been out and House forced to teach in his 'stead; the students hadn't taken too well on the first day to his suggesting he let them go play at recess and he'd been obliged instead to force out a series of elaborated-upon lesson plans) ever taught, anyway.

[betteroffdean.livejournal.com]

That entire semester, couched next to him in too-close airline desks with his ballcap pulled low (even in winter and long after baseball season was over and done with), had been one academic and psychological challenge after another. Cuddy was, by her very nature, a dominant force and wouldn't take his debauched and arrogant comments as easily as some of her more easily swayed peers. So when he'd appeared to make a home of the second desk in -- never compromising with his long leg room -- she'd grinned (grimaced) and had borne it with a moxie and a determination that had soldiered her through medical school and into her role as his boss. There was a small part of her -- all right, an admittedly large part of her -- that had taken satisfaction at climbing above him on the social and occupational ladder. But, then again, House had never clammored for fame or position. He did as he pleased, often at the expense of others, and was content to wile away his days in ratty, faded t-shirts instead of corporate suits. That suited the House she knew.

His voice had a mellow, wine-laced quality to it now that she knew couldn't all be due to alcohol. He might've been settling in -- if he were capable of such a thing. At his presumtion of his "teaching abilities" she curved her mouth into an easy smirk around the lip of her wine glass.

"You taught half the campus about practical anatomy," her words an easy, teasing roll, "and from what I heard from a few of them, you taught quite a few things about gross anatomy, too."

[addxcted.livejournal.com]

House gave a careless shrug as if to ask what she had expected him to do, even if he almost reflexively pointed out that a great deal of his oft-discussed collegiate partner-swapping was more discussed than actually acted out. He could remember being invariably surprised sometimes at hearing about his supposed conquests second-hand but it had inevitably become a source of amusement for him.

And really. What guy would have said he hadn't slept with all those girls if they all swore to it?

Instead, he just grunted and shifted again to nest himself back further in the overstuffed couch, fingertips playing over the glass in hand. "You'd be surprised by how much gross anatomy is functional practical anatomy, too."

[betteroffdean.livejournal.com]

At one point, Cuddy had been sure that she was the only girl on campus that hadn't talked muscle systems with Greg House. Most of it was gossip furore, she knew even now, and even with his lauded nocturnal conquests to precede him, House's medical prowess had been what kept her gravitating back toward him. When the semester had wrapped and she was cast into a new season of classes, she'd managed to snag Reed's intermediate endocrinology seminar (complete with six weeks of one-on-one research fellowship) and had been better for it since she had had House's tutelage. He had been off TA'ing higher level courses at that point, but she'd seen him in the halls and quads and there'd been a frission of grudging recognition between them.

Hers was only one of three A's that Reed gave out that semester -- and it was hard-won.

She tipped her ear toward her shoulder in acknowledgment of his comment and pushed her eyes toward the fireplace. A year ago, if you'dve told Lisa Cuddy that she'd be sharing wine and a cheery crackling fire with Gregory House, she would've referred you to the recently-renovated Pysch ward. It was still eerie to be sharing space with him, even in her own home. Especially in her own home. She would break it with confident humour:

"You, on the other hand --" her dark brows high and peaky "-- you wanted to get me into bed the moment you sat down next to me in Lynch's lecture."

[addxcted.livejournal.com]

"Actually, I wanted to sleep. I was hung over and didn't want to be in that class, even if I'd been sober. Thoughts of adding you to the end equation of bed didn't really start forming until you started acting disgusted with me five minutes later." Funny how that worked. At least he was honest about it. Cuddy would never admit to having wanted to sleep with him that early on.

"You act like I'm the catalyst in everything here. I'd've been happy to never see you again at the end of that semester but you're the one that always came around the track when I was out there, acting like I didn't notice. You sure as hell didn't have any classes out there." But the 'chance' encounters had resulted in them at least speaking on a regular basis.

[betteroffdean.livejournal.com]

It figured that House's interest wouldn't be roused until he met with friction. He liked the problem and the puzzle; things that were too easy -- people who were too easy -- generally didn't even make a ripple in his mind. Her younger self had been irritated and intrigued and had wanted to turn over more stones to find out what was underneath. So she'd draped casual scarves around her casual shoulders and had re-routed her walk to class to include a dip by the track where he practiced. He always ran early, and he almost always ran alone.

"Your ego is a thing to behold."

[addxcted.livejournal.com]

"All this time, and you still deny it." He gave a tutting sound under his breath and shook his head, though it was obvious it amused him. She'd go to the grave denying that it had been anything more than House's ego and not her own preoccupation with him.

So he had a bit of an ego. He didn't deny that either. In this case, it was justified, as Cuddy had been going out of her way to see him following that first semester, even when House's interest had waned in favor of having figured her out.

The puzzle that was Lisa Cuddy was never a very difficult one, interesting as she remained.

"You could have just told me to buy you a drink rather than walking by every day and oogling my short-shorts."

[betteroffdean.livejournal.com]

As a rule, women didn't like having a man -- significant, insignificant, or House -- pigeon hole them into a set routine. The feminine mystique disallowed absolute understsanding. He might have had a bead on some aspects of her (her drive for her work, her charitable guilt, to name but two) but there were onionskin layers to Lisa Cuddy that he hadn't glimpsed. Maybe wouldn't ever fully cull to the surface.

-- Her couch was one of them.

She roped her wine glass in for another drink, giving him her stern regard over the rim. "It wasn't every day. And your legs weren't that impressive."

[addxcted.livejournal.com]

There was a long moment in which he considered her words, and while the amusement of the conversation at hand did still continue to hang in place, an odd sort of expression crept into place; not as if he'd taken offense at her statement, but it had turned his thoughts inward temporarily which was a dangerousr region.

Draining the remaining contents of his glass, he sat up and pushed himself forward to set the glass on the nearest stand alongside the couch.

"Maybe not every day, but you did transfer int Intermediate Diagnostic Medicine my last year there after the TA lists were out." House had never pointed out the fact that he was aware of that fact; she'd been transferred into the class well before the first day, but being the nosey sort that he was, he'd looked into it once a perusal of the student list had popped up her name among the 'familiar' ones.

Perhaps Cuddy had wanted a taste of House in a class that he actually found interesting vs. Practical Anatomy.

[betteroffdean.livejournal.com]

She followed the long reach of his arm with her eyes, half his face cloaked off when he shifted to settle his glass. Her lips flared up briefly, trying for combative amusement, though there were subtler tones to her voice when she spoke:

"Are you insinuating that I've spent the last twenty years carrying a torch for you? House..." she turned her lips to her glass and took some time there "..there are egoes and then there are egoes and then there's you."

[betteroffdean.livejournal.com]

(Good morning! I'm taking a personal day from work today to decompress. 'Wanted to know if, given our new information, whether or not you'd like to start a new scene. This one's sort of...antiquated, lol.)

[addxcted.livejournal.com]

( Good morning. /yawn. Wish I could say the same about a day off, but I get tomorrow off so I suppose it all works out. I just have to push through today. Lol.

What did you have in mind? )

[betteroffdean.livejournal.com]

(Oh, you'll be fine. This time tomorrow, my fingers'll be worn to bones and you'll be lounging about like a big lounging...thing.

I don't think that the fact that they've slept together before has to change what we have too much. It's more just tweaking perception. As to the exact nature of a new scene -- I don't know. Cuddy's parents could come visiting. And she would be keen to keep it as quiet as possible -- maybe pulling Hosue aside in a hallway ten minutes before they get there -- but it would open up avenues for some interesting tableside conversations.)

[addxcted.livejournal.com]

( She'd be so afraid of him misbehaving. I think that would be very interesting, actually. I'm sure she'd have the dilemmia of wondering if she should even tell him at first, then telling him because he'd find out even if she didn't.

Almost halfway done with the day. x.x;; Still have lunch, too, so huzzah. )

[betteroffdean.livejournal.com]

(Excellent. I'll start then, eh?

And I hope you got a chance to snag some lunch. How're you feeling of late? Still under a cloud?)

[addxcted.livejournal.com]

( I'll be looking for the post, as I'm back at the office now. The antibiotics helped a lot of it but I'm still in that fuzzy cold-like state and will probably continue to be like that until it gets entirely out of my system. It was so bad there for a few days that I could hardly take more than a shallow breath without hacking up a lung. It was terrible. )

[betteroffdean.livejournal.com]

(I'm popping off to dinner, so I won't have anything for you for -- oh, I don't know, I'm being treated to a steak, so it might be a bit. But if you'd like to post in the interim, you're more than welcome. 'Else I'll sit my chops down and write something soon after I get back.

'Glad to hear you're on the up, at least. Terrible, terrible strains going around. I hope you rested.)