They left the building at the same time.
“Oh, hi, Doctor Cuddy.” She smiled politely and caught the door as it started to sweep shut behind her, holding it open. Her demeanor was all bright-shining charm and Cuddy hesitated before stepping through, into the cold December evening. Her breath crystallized on air, mingling in space with that of the younger, smiling doctor. “Do you always stay this late?”
Cuddy smirked. “There’s always something to do,” she replied casually, hitching her purse up further on her shoulder as she started down the path towards the parking garage. “What about you? Odd jobs for House?”
Her laugh tinkled like bells and she shook her hair. “No, nothing like that tonight.” Her voice was touched by amusement, a lighter sound than Cuddy was used to hearing, and somehow, it surprised her. “I wanted to stay with the patient. He’s recovering, but he’s pretty lonely. I thought it’d be…right.”
“That’s good of you.” She smiled, unsure what else to say, and they walked in silence the rest of the way to the parking garage, their shoes clicking against the concrete. Every breath hung heavily in the frigid air, crisp and cold.
Up one flight of stairs, they paused, and she eyed the familiar “Reserved, Dr. Cuddy” placard on the wall in front of her car. “Well, have a good night,” she finally said, when the other woman had stood long enough by her side without saying a word. “Get some sleep; you’ve earned it.”
She smiled again, just that same, small, polite smile, and nodded. “Goodnight to you, too.”
Her footfalls echoed away for a few seconds before Cuddy, watching her retreat, broke the icy silence. “Unless you want to get a drink or something,” she forced out, her voice unfamiliar to her own ears.
Two car lengths away, she turned around. For a moment, she stood studiously in place, eyes fixed and cautious even in the dim lighting.
This time, when she finally did smile, there was more to it than politeness. “That sounds nice,” she decided.
Cuddy smiled back.
==
They laughed together over beers, balanced on bar stools, and the unfamiliar, heady feeling surprised her.
“Trust me, if I’d known the rat was in the building, it would have been thrown off his balcony,” she joked, setting down her drink and shaking her head. “I wish getting ‘This is a hospital, stupid’ tattooed somewhere on his body could be part of his tenure requirements. It might be the only way to keep rodents out of the building.”
She laughed. “That’s House,” she admitted, and tossed up her hands. One landed on the bar, just where it should have been, but the other drifted and, for a few, awkward seconds, touched and lingered on Cuddy’s knee, a strange, unfamiliar touch that somehow managed to feel everything but familiar. When the hand flitted away, back to clutching a beer bottle, she swallowed thickly.
“That’s House,” she agreed. There was a moment’s pause as she evaluated and reevaluated the situation, staring down a non-existent chart for a moment before forcing herself to not smile. “So, I have to ask: did you really sleep with Chase?”
The younger woman arched her dainty eyebrows, obviously surprised by the question. There was a brief yet heavy pause before she recovered and took another pull from her beer. “I’m not sure how to answer that,” she admitted quietly. Her lips pursed into a small frown. “Did you really sleep with House?”
Cuddy smiled, every bit an enigma, and shrugged. “I’m sure how to answer that,” she retorted smoothly, “but I’m not going to.”
“Why not?”
She brought her hand down slowly, sliding it off the polished wood of the bar and placing it carefully on the thigh beside her own. She felt the firm muscle beneath through the pressed slacks and rubbed her thumb along the well-ironed crease, light enough that she could be easily brushed away, but heavy enough that they both knew exactly what it meant.
“Would it make a difference?”
Her companion’s brow creased, and her eyes roamed for a moment. Suddenly, Cuddy realized all at once how unspeakably green they were, a sort of lush, jungle green, a color she’d never seen before and certainly had not expected from one of the infamous ducklings.
Her hand, too, fell from the bar, and closed over the one atop her leg. “No.”
==
Cuddy rationalized that they didn’t need rationalizations, or reasons why, or good excuses. They stumbled through the door without flicking light switches or staging a grand tour, and shoes landed under pants lying under blouses on the hardwood floors.
Neither woman spoke as they tumbled onto downy quilts and feather pillows, as hands roamed and explored with gentle doctor’s touches. A sigh or gasp here or there was the only noises peppering a perfect stillness, and the rustling of skin on the bedspreads the only hint of any activity at all. Otherwise, nothing moved or shifted, the near-silence a litany of things left unsaid, hiding the elephant in the back of the room, his limp and his cane, and the knowledge that the body in his bed would never be either of them.
When the desperation faded, she fell back against her pillows and sighed deeply. The other woman watched her carefully, scooting up and propping herself on an elbow, her face pale and expressionless in the darkness.
“You want to talk about it?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Allowing a breathless chuckle to escape, Cuddy shook her head. “Not on your life.” She glanced to the figure at her side, to the lush green eyes and that perfect little smile. “Do you?”
Her elbow slipped out from under her, and she rested her head on a pillow. “No,” she sighed, and closed her eyes.
==
“Late late late late late,” scolded House as Cuddy pushed past him to unlock her office door and step inside. She shed her coat as he limped in behind her, and sent him her most impressive glare. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were slacking off.” He shot her a wolfish grin. “No worries, though. For the low, low price of one booty call, I won’t tell the board about it. Two booty calls, I don’t tell all the rich donors, and for five, I’ll – ”
She pulled on her white doctor’s coat and then turned to face him, hands on her hips. “Do you need something, House?”
He considered her question for a moment, twirling his cane idly between his fingers. “Actually, no. We had a pool going, and it seems Cameron won. Just after nine-thirty. Wilson will be so disappointed; he was gunning for ten.” He turned around and started for the door, and Cuddy rounded her desk.
When she sat down, she found that House was still hovering at the door, his eyes trained on her over his shoulder. “What?”
“It really does beg the question,” he considered, staring her down, “of how Cameron knew when you’d get in.”
She rolled her eyes and reached for a file. “Out, House.”
“In so many ways,” he smirked, and then slipped out the door before she could say anything more.
==
That night, they left the building at the same time again, and Cuddy caught the door. For a moment, they lingered there, staring one another down, before she flashed her smile and reached forward to gently touch her arm.
“Goodnight, Doctor Cuddy,” Allison Cameron smiled, and then stepped away and started for the parking garage
Cuddy nodded, watching her retreating back pass under the sidewalk lights before disappearing into darkness. “Goodnight.”
