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Ter Animus
by Anita
Ter Animus
By: Anita Ramakrishna
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He sighed in exasperation as the man entered his office.
"I don't care." House stated matter-of-factly, causing the other man to raise his eyebrow.
"Well, I never doubted that for a moment." Wilson grumbled, trying to estimate how much he would have to suffer through this particular conversation.
House was wearing the expression that meant he had been analyzing and over-analyzing things he should leave alone, instead of doing his job.
"You lied to me." House interjected Wilson's thoughts.
"Everybody lies." Wilson mocked, setting his files aside. This was heading nowhere. As usual. And yet, in a strange way, that was somehow comforting...
"You got Cuddy to lie to me about the cortisol treatment. About the fact that I was right." House explained, glaring to show he felt Wilson was being intentionally dense.
Wilson sighed. Not this again. "I thought we already talked about this. At least, to the extent you are willing to discuss anything that involves actual feelings."
"We did talk. But now I just want you to know that I don't care anymore." House re-iterated simply.
"Alright then..." Wilson replied hesitantly as the two of them left his office. "Who are you and what have you done with House? Mind you, I'm not complaining, I'm just curious."
"You want to come over tonight for a round of poker?" House asked, ignoring Wilson in that way he so skillfully did.
It all seemed so normal for the two of them, but Wilson was taken aback. House didn't care? He was over it? Wilson had orchestrated a farce just to keep House's pride in check, and yet all was forgiven? No torture? No guilt? Just a night of poker with the guys?
Things weren't that simple. He knew it. The past few weeks had been so strange. There had been a barrier between them that had never been there before. He and House had begun to drift apart, and as much as either man hated to admit it, they needed each other. They always had.
So Wilson decided to follow House's lead, to ignore the questions running through his head. Ignoring the fact that House's statement had meant so much more to either of them than they would ever be willing to admit.
And so they slipped back into the routine, refusing to move forward.
* * *
She looked up from her computer. Their voices were reaching closer, and she could hear the slight amusement in their tones. Struggling to maintain her concentration on her work, she finally gave up and walked towards her office door.
Only to stop suddenly before she opened the door.
What in the world was she doing? Had it really come to this?
Was she planning on yelling at them? Taunting them just to get a reaction? And what for? They hadn't done anything. Not today, at least...
She watched House crack a joke, earning a small smile from Wilson.
She had never felt such envy in all of her life. Cuddy shuddered involuntarily at the thought. Jealousy? She was jealous of House and Wilson? Two of the most miserable doctors in all of PPTH? Envious of the single most screwed up friendship she had ever come across?
And yet, something had changed in her life. Social contact slowly became something of a luxury. And even on the off-chance she reached out, her relationships were never very deep.
She had never gotten along well with women. They would immediately hate or pity her, and neither option sat well with Cuddy. And men, well, men were only interested in one thing when she was in the picture.
But everyday she looked forward to seeing House and Wilson. They did not treat her like an over-worked princess, they treated her like a human. They treated her they way they treated everyone else. And she relished the rare occasions when they treated her as a friend.
She was out of her mind. She had never been this juvenile in her whole life. And she had definitely never been one to seek attention. Yet when she found them lost in their banter, she found herself drawn to them. She found herself needing their acceptance, needing them to make her know she was important. That she was just like them. Sometimes that was all that mattered.
But deep in her heart she knew she was nothing like them. When the fun was over and she turned her back, they stopped their act. The facade they carried out to calm her childish insecurities was over, and they could go back to being themselves. Together. Always just the two.
Cuddy instinctively snapped out of her thoughts and back to House and Wilson. She felt their gaze upon her. Foolishly, she had let them catch her watching them. In a moment of hesitation, she could do nothing but stare back.
Cuddy felt embarassment creep into her. She sighed as she realized how pathetic she was being, and how much of a field day House would have if he could hear her thoughts. But when House and Wilson's attention quickly returned back to their personal conversation, Cuddy wished that embarassment was the only feeling she held in her heart.
They were a semblance of naturality in her life. She cherished ever moment they had together, because it was real. But she was nothing to them. Just the devil in a skirt. She would not remain in their thoughts, would not linger in their conversations, would not haunt their dreams.
And that observation pained her more than anything else could.
With false determination, Cuddy strode out of her office towards the elevators.
She was not sure if she felt elation or despair when neither House nor Wilson called after her.
* * *
"Nice. Never thought I'd catch you undressing her with your eyes. But next time you might want to try cameras in her office. They work much better." House smirked, catching Wilson off-guard.
"What are you talking about?" Wilson sputtered as two pairs of eyes hesitantly broke off from her visage in her office.
"Mother Teresa. I always knew you had a thing for nuns." House scoffed. "Cuddy, you moron. The two of you have been acting like teenagers for the past month. Gossip. Lying..." House added, giving Wilson a pointed look. "As much as I admire your taste in women, I've gotta say your chances are slim. As far as I know, Cuddy's not looking for a serial divorcee." House looked expectantly at Wilson, waiting for the frustration and exasperation he would soon see upon the man's face.
But it was House's turn to be shocked when he didn't recieve the traditional glare from Wilson who was deep in thought.
"Why don't we invite Cuddy to our poker night?" Wilson mused aloud.
"As much as I would love to see Cuddy crush someone else's spirit for a change, I'm not so sure that's a good idea."
House's eyes returned to her office door. He had already let Cuddy in too far. Wilson was the only one he was supposed to run to when he really needed a good fight, but he found himself seeking Cuddy out more and more.
He wasn't sure how much further he was willing to go.
"Besides, we can't ask her. Then she'll know we talk about her. Don't want to inflate that ego anymore. If it gets any bigger, it might just surpass her funbags. And we can't be having that, now, can we?" House quipped.
Wilson gave a light smile and paused. "...She's not all that bad, you know."
House studied Wilson intently. The remark had been very unlike him. Pity? For Cuddy? What exactly had happened between them?
It angered House to see Cuddy and Wilson together. To see their friendship grow. It was selfish, he knew that, but a small part of him felt he deserved credit for their friendship. A small part of him wanted to shake them and make them see that he was the one they needed, not each other.
And yet he realized that it was not he who was studying Wilson, but the other way around. Wilson had a way of changing everything when House least expected it, of turning the tables before he even had a chance to think. It did not happen often, but when it did, House began to lose at his own game.
The expression of Wilson's face was clear. He was not vouching for Cuddy out of pity. And he was not thinking of himself.
He was reaching deeper, into a place House was unsure he had ever had the courage to venture. Looking into House's very own desires, truths, and denials.
Wilson already knew where House stood. It was only a matter of time...
House tried vainly to shake this thought from his mind, only to find Cuddy standing at her office door, staring at them.
As if to mock their sentiments, House, Wilson and Cuddy found themselves locked in a gaze. A strange window through time.
Breaking the trance, Cuddy rushed out of her office and headed for the elevators.
"Methinks someone is onto us. She's using her supernatural powers. I told you she's of the devil..." House joked as he and Wilson struggled to not trace Cuddy's steps as she entered the elevator.
"And if you keep ogling that hussie, I'm going to be forced to break it off with you. Why Jimmy, why?" House whined.
Wilson simply smiled and shook his head.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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