storypaint | Harm the Baby (Cuddy gen)

Title: Harm the Baby
Words: 1069
Comm: 50fantastic Prompt: 19. House, M.D. Cuddy, where she tries to cheer herself up after her latest failed conception attempt.
Written for: lea724
Genre: introspective, angst
Rating/Warnings: G, some vague season 3 spoilers
Disclaimer: House, M.D. belongs to David Shore and the Fox Corporation.
Summary: Cameron goes on one of her missions to cheer people up and it's Cuddy's turn this time. Cuddy gives in and she and the fellows go drinking together.

Note: This is set some unspecified time later in season 3 or in season 4. There is one spoiler, but it's very vague, and nothing you wouldn't get from seeing the commercials they played for Words and Deeds. This is my first time writing Cuddy, so I hope she seems in character and you like it!

"Why don't we go out tonight?" Cameron said, and it passed through one ear and out the other. When she repeated herself and my brain actually processed the words, I looked up from my paperwork, incredulous.

"Huh?" I said. I know, not very articulate, but I was up half the night with insomnia. My period started around ten o'clock, and I couldn't really get to sleep until two. Amazing how disappointment can cause a lack of sleep. House would have no trouble analyzing that one.

"Why don't we go out?" Cameron repeated patiently for the third time. I looked down at my paperwork, and back up at her, trying automatically to formulate an excuse.

But hey, I wasn't pregnant, so why not get a little drunk?

"Sure, sounds like fun," I replied. She was shocked by my acceptance, but pleased. Cameron was always happy to fix people. It was almost like she was a doctor or something, but I don't have any doctors without a healthy helping of angst, sarcasm, and sociophobia. Or alternatively, I have one doctor with that problem and he is 95% of the people I have to yell at every day.

"Great! Then I'll see you at seven?" Cameron said, and I nodded and turned back to the paperwork.

I was beginning to regret my decision when Cameron showed up at my office door, primped and pleased with herself. But there was no backing out now. I grabbed my coat and loosened my blouse to the best advantage.

I began to have third thoughts when we met up with the other suckers Cameron had conned into going clubbing with us-- Chase and Foreman. Neither looked terribly impressed, but they rarely were. Chase was shaping up to have social skills of the Housian proportion, and Foreman really seemed to hate everything most of the time.

"I'm surprised Dr. House chose not to go with us," I said, getting into my car. Cameron took the seat next to me and Chase and Foreman climbed into the backseat. I wasn't entirely surprised, knowing that he and Wilson had probably been planning on spending the evening together like they did most night, eating Chinese and watching action movies (if they weren't so straight, I'd swear they were gay together, but I suppose the thing of it is that they are somehow each other's only friend). But the fact that House passed up a chance to torment me while I was soused... I'm almost tempted to say that rehab did something good for him, but I knew that couldn't be true. Nothing ever did "something good" for House, not even me, and I was supposed to be his boss.

"Said he had something to do," Cameron said, shrugging.

"Eating babies," Chase suggested. I didn't laugh (reputation to keep, though if I was worried about that I shouldn't be drinking with these guys), but I wanted to.

"Wilson wouldn't eat babies," Foreman said. "That's like eating pork. Jews can't do it."

We all had to laugh at that, and then Cameron directed us to her favorite bar.

I was surprised when I walked in to see that it was pretty normal, a sports bar, actually, and the boys automatically plopped themselves down in front of the basketball game. When she went to the counter and came back with two drinks, I saw that this was her plan-- now we could have girl-talk.

Joy.

There were some battered armchairs, smelling like smoke, in the back corner of the place close to the pool table, and I sat down on the somewhat sticky leather and wished I'd worn a skirt that didn't have to be dry-cleaned. Cameron handed me my beer and then settled herself on the edge of the chair.

"So, how are you doing?" she asked cheerfully. I took a long sip and said, "Just fine. And you, Dr. Cameron?"

She waved her hand. "Call me Allison, if you would. I just thought that you'd been looking down an awful lot lately. I didn't think you got out much..."

I glanced around the bar again and wondered if this place was her idea of a good time. There were four old men playing pool, Chase and Foreman watching the game, and a handful of others sitting quietly and nursing their drinks. It wasn't exactly a rollicking place.

"I do okay," I said, sipping my beer again and leaning back in the armchair. That was one good thing about having a child-- instant excuse when I didn't want to go bar-hopping with my employees.

"How are you doing, Cam... Allison," I asked, hoping to shift the conversation away from myself. It was very strange to call her Allison and I hoped she wouldn't have the thought of calling me Lisa.

"I'm doing all right," she replied. We sat in blessed silence for a moment, nursing our drinks. Cameron was just drinking bottled water, so I assumed she had designated herself driver of my car. Rather than worry about it, I finished my beer.

We talked about work for a while, useless pleasantries, stories about House. She wasn't that bad of a girl, I decided after my second beer. Just annoying sometimes. Perfect in a classroom full of kindergarteners, I bet.

"I'm surprised you didn't go into pediatrics, Allison," I said carelessly, and she dropped her eyes. Her bottom lip even began to quiver-- what was she, five?

"I couldn't stand the idea after my husband died," she said quietly. "He and I... well, we wanted kids, you know."

Oh dear. We had more in common than I thought. I didn't tell her that, of course.

"I thought for a while I'd be a vet," she said. "But that didn't work out either. I'm happy where I am."

Of course she was happy. House was a pretty big task to deal with, but she thought she was up to the challenge. She was still too young to get the concept of lost causes. Maybe she never would.

I got another drink and stared down into the amber liquid. Was I in denial too? Was my quest for a child a lost cause? Should I just give in and adopt, if I was that desperate?

"I am too," I said after a moment, and maybe it was just the alcohol, but I smiled at her, and felt like everything might turn out okay.