The Dare (Post-Eppie: House Valentine Day’s Eppie)
DJ Dubois
February 2007

Notes: House MD belongs to FOX and its copyright holders. All other characters are fictitious and of my own design. Please send comments to dante0220@yahoo.com


Chapter 1 [The Morning After—West Princeton, NJ]

Around 5 AM, most of West Princeton, NJ remained asleep with only a few hearty joggers and midterm crammers defying that logic. The darkness would hold sway for another hour or so, resting from the snow squall it had dumped on the region earlier.

In a white house (with a questionable roof), an alarm clock buzzed annoyingly through the nocturnal cloak.

In response, a slender white hand slapped its top, postponing the inevitable. “Sh’t up!”

Cuddy groaned as she rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Sleep had eluded her for much of the night—fitting considering the wreck of a date she had earlier.

The event seemed so easy and foolproof. She had met this guy online and discovered that they had a lot in common. After that, she arranged for them to do a Valentine’s Day dinner around the corner from PPTH. Dinner was all right. Things back there were really heating up….

…That is until Fate limped up to the café door.

She frowned, recalling how House had interrupted her evening not just once—but twice. Both times she advised him quickly, trying to get him away from there before he could ruin the evening.

House being House just couldn’t resist sticking his two cents in, elaborating on her love life in front of her date and effectively driving her companion away.

House, what were you thinking? She thought back to the second exchange on the doorstep. Having had enough of his pursuit, she asked him The Question.

Do you like me, House?

Of course, he didn’t answer. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. House being House was a creature of pain. Love isn’t something he felt comfortable about much less would admit to someone. Due to his resentment of the world at large, the diagnostician had built a wall around himself. He had always had trouble letting people in…especially after both times with Stacy Warner, his former fiancée.

And as always, House created a loophole for himself, evading both implications of her question in addition to circumventing the Dreaded Commitment Issue. He declared that he was messing with her and left. Even as he did so, however, he had trouble looking her in the eye.

She lay on her back, thinking of her initial goals for the evening. I love sex but would a one night stand be worth it? She rolled her eyes, not wanting to go through that debate with herself again. I swear that if I tackled a patient at random, locked us in the Clinic and we agreed to sex, House would find a way to wreck it! She threw a pillow at the wall in frustration.

That was—before the irony of the thought hit her.

“House actually breaking into the Clinic. Now that would be a sight!” she laughed in spite of herself. As her mind untied itself from the previous night’s knots, she recalled their friendship from the previous twenty years. Even when he was at his worst, he had always held back where she was concerned.

Before the previous night, she never thought of their relationship in that way. Always, they had sparred intellectually, bantering to see who was top dog in their peculiar relationship.

At that point, she whacked the alarm again, gaining more time to think.

I always thought it was a game. Is it one really? She snorted to herself. Of course it is! But why is he playing it? Why are you playing it with him, Lisa? She rubbed her chin, fishing over the possibilities in her mind. She had brought him there in spite of his multiple firings. She had defended him against Vogler, Tritter and the court, perjuring herself in the latter case. She put up with his antics and attitude. He’s the best but is that the only reason? She shook her head, recalling what Stacy had said about House being a kid. The whole panty raid thing and the interrupting of my dates with other guys were his way of getting my attention? HE REALLY CARES? Her eyes went wide.

Then her date’s words echoed through her head. You seem different around him so assured and confident. The implication from that independent source seemed clear: they belonged together.

House, you always have to make things difficult. She sighed and relaxed some more. As she did so, a plan formed there. I’ve screwed around with this for too long. She smiled wickedly. “Okay, House, you want to play? I’m about to change the rules.” Feeling good about that decision, she rose from her bed and headed for the shower.




Chapter 2 [PPTH—Diagnostics Suite]

Although he had just left PPTH to eat breakfast on Wilson’s tab, House limped back out of the cold into the hospital and up to his unit. As was the case with puzzles that he worked on, the CIPA patient had intrigued him, granting him immunity from sleep, eating and most other things. Hate this crap! He frowned, pondering the night before. Too bad that pain stuff didn’t work out. He shook his head, wishing that he was truly as diabolical and unethical as his reputation made him out to be. That guy would have no problem going after the spinal nerve. I’m not that guy.

As he shuffled into the suite, he noticed that it was empty. “Kiddies get a snow day? Too bad nobody checked with me first.” He made a note on the top of his white board. “STAFF GETS TO MAKE UP FOUR OF MY CLINIC HOURS APIECE FOR HOOKEY.” “They’ll notice that when they finally get their butts in here.” He noted the four files on his desk. “You heard that too? You get a reprieve for today, Dudes.” He checked his watch. “Cool.” He reached for the drawer where his portable TV lay ready and waiting.

From the doorway, a throat cleared itself.

He shook his head. “You always know when to show up, don’t you?”

Cuddy shrugged coolly. “You know the song, House, even it up. You crashed my date last night. I might as well crash your soap.”

“Hey, I worked all night!” he protested. “Had to make sure you didn’t shoot your ass off with Mr. Shriner there.”

She snickered sarcastically at him. “Oh I get it. So you’re my conscience in addition to being a doctor now? Kind of interesting considering you don’t have one.”

He rolled his eyes for show. Despite appearances, he was looking forward to this. “This coming from Dr. I LIKE SEX? Too bad I saved your potential victim from the sacrifice on the altar of love.”

“Funny, House, I was the one on the date and you were the one horning in on me. Or is that the one being horny?” she retorted evenly with an arch of her eyebrow. “And you never did answer my question last night.”

He tensed, sensing that she had cornered him. “Actually, Cuddy, I did.”

She considered his words for a minute. “Oh yeah. You said something about being a manipulative son of a bitch playing head games with me.” She took two steps closer to him. “We agree on something. You’re a manipulative son of a bitch all right. But playing games with me? Only when you want something, House.”

He steepled his fingers, considering her words. “Maybe that parking space you still owe me.”

She walked up to the desk and leaned over for a good ten seconds, letting him get a good view down her blouse. “Are you sure that’s all, House? I mean what’s a parking space really?”

He glanced at her momentarily before recovering his composure. “Oh yeah. Flash the twins and try to make me forget what you owe me.” He snorted at her. “Nice try, Cuddy. This ain’t poker. Besides I don’t have to bet what I’ve already won fair and square.”

“I could make a call on your ass,” she threatened.

“Right. I stop bitching about the parking space or you send me to jail?” He chuckled. “Will you get a grip already? You could’ve stopped Tritter anytime you wanted before the court thing. Nice move though.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “You’re right, House. We can stand here all day debating this. However, case or not, you still wrecked my evening. You owe me a night out.”

That demand made him cough. “I owe you what? Now you’ve lost it.”

“And you’re scared to go out with me.”

“Yeah right,” he insisted. “Newsflash, Cuddy, I’m not scared of you.”

She grinned. “Then why all of the double talk? I dare you to go out with me, House.”

He arched his brow in surprise. “Now you’re hitting up your staff? Life must be really rough.”

“Yeah well, I had a date more recently last time I checked,” she retorted. “You’re so full of it, House.”

“I put up with you for an evening and what do I get out of it?” he demanded.

She scratched her chin. “Evening the score between us for starters. Then I might let you get away with your threat on the white board. Make the night worth my while and who knows what will happen. You’ve made lots of comments. What’s the matter, House? Don’t want to back them up?”

“You’ll try to get out of it,” he reminded her.

She stuck her hand out. “Fine! Let’s shake on it.”

Over his own inner objections, he couldn’t resist the bet. “Fine. Tonight. 6:00. Your house or here?”

“Make it 7:00 at my house and make sure you prepare. Show some effort and maybe I might reward you,” she insisted before heading out. “Can’t wait to see what you come up with. Oh and remember, you have clinic duty at 11.” With that, she strolled out of the suite knowing she had him hook, line and sinker.

He sat in his chair and smiled, formulating a plan. Maybe he would have to act disgustingly nice for a night but he was going after his version of the Holy Grail.

And by the end of the night, he was going to get it. Or bust…..



Chapter 3
[Four hours later]

House scribbled out a script and handed it to the sixth know-it-all parent in a row who thought they knew more than he did about their kid’s condition. (He, of course, proved them wrong and made them feel like idiots in the process.) He limped up to the nurse’s desk and announced., “1 PM. Dr. House checks out.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” the nurse retorted sarcastically.

He ignored her while heading out toward the lunch room; his mind occupying itself with the details of his plan. Taking advantage of having the suite to himself, he had called for flowers, recalling she loved roses, daisies and carnations. Carmelina’s had a table reserved for 7:15 PM. He had cleaned his suit for the conference that week so it would be ready. He went through the line, grabbing a salad for himself and even paying for it (for once).

“What’s with you?” Wilson asked, coming up behind him.

“I don’t know. What’s your problem? I actually paid for my salad! Ooh! Someone call a news conference!” House retorted, turning up the sarcasm. “I survived a case and a whine and cheese run in the Clinic.”

The oncologist studied his best friend carefully, trying to figure out what was going on there. “You were super depressed at breakfast this morning. This is an extreme turnaround even for you. Something’s up.”

The diagnostician popped two vicodin pills. “Maybe. Maybe not, Jimmy Boy. Oh all right. I’ve got a sure bet.”

Wilson felt his blood running cold. “Sure bet? Now I know you’re up to something.”

House smirked and sniggered wickedly. “Just knowing what’s mine.” He finished his salad before heading toward the elevator.

What the Hell is he doing? With the feeling in his gut, he knew it was something that Cuddy needed to know about.


****


[Cuddy’s Office—twenty minutes later]

Cuddy looked anxiously at the clock on her desk, watching the minutes tick down to when she could leave later that afternoon. Despite her bravado from earlier that day, she knew House would do something. Is House right? Can I put up or shut up? Can it, Lisa. You know you can. Make Mr. Pain prove he can too. She checked her calendar, noting the hair styling appointment and facial later that afternoon.

“Have a minute?” Wilson inquired as he knocked on her door.

She waved him in, wondering what the emergency was. “What’s with you, Wilson?”

He ran his right hand through his hair. “It’s House. He’s up to something.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Relax. You know House is always up to something.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you. However he had that focused pit bull look. Whatever he’s got his mind set on, you know he’ll do whatever he has to,” he reported.

She managed to keep a straight face. “He’s pissed that his staff decided to sleep in and he’s thinking of something to get even with them. You’ve seen him on that bent before. What’s the big deal?”

“This is more serious, Cuddy.”

“I’ll check on him after I finish with the donor meeting this afternoon,” she promised. “Everything will be okay.”

He stared in surprise at how easily she passed over the potential plot. Normally, she’d be scrambling to deal with it. “Fine,” he resolved. “If it involves me, please let me know.”

“I’ll do that,” she agreed as he left. “Relax, Wilson. You’re due in the Clinic. Go ahead.”

He looked strangely at her again before heading toward the Clinic.

She rubbed her forehead, knowing full well what House’s plotting was about. He’s up to something, Wilson. Too bad, it’s a bet between him and me. She picked up the phone and dialed. Better to get this out of the way then I can defuse any fires if need be.




Chapter 4 [That night]
[Cuddy’s House]

Three hours after leaving the office, Cuddy stood in front of a body length mirror, inspecting herself carefully. As usual, Fabio had styled her hair wonderfully for the big event. She had debated over which dress to wear. Fortunately, since it was significantly warmer than the previous evening, she went for the clothes to kill with: her navy blue evening dress from the poker tournament the previous year. He’ll never be able to keep his eyes off of this! She checked her make up and then sighed. “Guess this will have to do.”

Even as she said that, she felt a wave of anxiety creeping up her spine.

Come on, Lisa, it’s just House! She bit her lip, knowing that it was a lot more serious than that.

Before she could do anything else, she heard an expectant rapping at the door.

Show time! Feeling her spark coming back, she threw her winter coat on and headed for the door.


****


[Five minutes earlier]

House parked his car in front of Cuddy’s house, reflecting on his afternoon. For the previous three hours, he’d brought everything together. He stopped by the flower shop. He went home and changed clothes, putting on the suit. He considered the bouquet and smirked. I’m going to win this damn bet if it kills me! He struggled with his tie, feeling it strangle him. Relax! He climbed out of the car and limped up to the door.

While climbing the stairs, he felt himself hesitate momentarily. Get a grip! He forced himself to knock on the door.

A minute later, Cuddy opened the door. She wore her heavy winter coat. Her styled raven hair moved ever so slightly in the winter breeze. “Almost thought you weren’t going to show, House,” she drawled while taking in the image of him in his suit carrying the bouquet.

“A bet’s a bet, Cuddy,” he retorted. “Seeing how you have them in your office, I figured you’d like these.”

She accepted the flowers and sniffed deeply from them. “They’re beautiful. Why, House, you do have some taste!” She shut the door behind herself. “Now let’s see if your taste in food measures up to these.”

“It’s taken care of,” he shrugged, trying to stay noncommittal before they got into the car and drove off toward Carmelina’s.




Chapter 5 [Carmelina’s—Fifteen minutes later]

As he parked the car into the handicapped slot, she cracked, “Nice, House. I was expecting McDonalds, maybe.”

He shook his head. “Not tonight. No, only the best for you.”

“In the name of the bet or something else?” she teased, trying to apply pressure.

“Dream on,” he countered, covering up his own indecisiveness. He got out of the car and leaned heavily against it to avoid slipping.

She cleared her throat.

“Oh for the love of God,” he growled.

She arched her eyebrow expectantly.

Realizing that she wanted to squeeze every little bit out of this event, he groused, “Fine.” He started around the car.

As he did so, his cane and right foot hit a patch of ice, upending him. He landed on his rear end in the snow bank next to them. “Damn it!”

She wanted to laugh but knew she could blow the whole thing if she did so. She started to open her door to see if he was okay.

“Stay there!” He forced himself to his feet, not wanting to let her see anything bruised except for his pride. “Whoever invented the gentleman crap needs my cane in the head.” He opened the door for her. “There.”

“Thank you. Are you all right?” she wondered.

“Peachy,” he retorted sharply. “I just want to get us inside and to that food.” He shut the door behind her and led her through the front door. “Right on time.”

“You are certainly trying to turn over a new leaf tonight, aren’t you?” she supposed saucily.

“A bet’s a bet,” he replied while heading up to the maitre-de. “Reservation for House.”

The portly man in the white tuxedo frowned, not wanting to get into an extended conversation with the diagnostician. Grabbing two menus, he indicated, “Follow me.” He led them to a corner table. “For you both. Bon appetit.”

“Thanks,” he expressed while taking a seat.

Electing not to push the point, she removed her coat and took her own seat. “Seriously, you’re okay? It’s okay, House.”

“I said I’m fine,” he assured her albeit with an edge to his voice.

“Fine,” she replied while glancing at her menu. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Let’s see….veal’s good.”

“The chicken alfredo is great too,” he recommended.

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind. Thanks,” she indicated, adding a smile as a reward for the effort to be nice. “If you go with chicken, then I’ll have fish on second thought. That way, we can stick with white wine. If it’s okay with you that is?”

“Sounds great to me,” he concurred, feeling glad that she was making it (relatively) painless.

After they ordered, she tried to break the silence again. “I hope you don’t mind if I dressed up a bit.”

While he hadn’t said anything, he definitely had noticed her dress and its neckline. “Looks good on you, Cuddy. I wasn’t aware we were playing poker tonight.”

She frowned. “Cute, House. Who knows what I have in mind?”

“Or what I could think of?” he suggested while fumbling with his hands under the table. Then he decided to turn the heat up on her. “So why the bet? I mean, you could potentially go out with anyone.”

“I could,” she admitted, trying to remain nonchalant. “But seeing as you keep trying to horn your way into line, I figured you deserved a chance. What can I say?”

“You wish I were that desperate,” he cracked.

“Besides, I figured it must get boring in your room with only the rat to keep you company,” she added with a smirk.

“Steve’s good company. I figured this would be an interesting experiment.” He locked eyes with her. “See what the Evil Queen of the Universe is like away from her domain.”

Touché. She shrugged. “Surprise, House, I am a human being. So are you if you’d realize that and maybe treat yourself better.”

He grinned. “Careful, Cuddy, it almost sounds like you care.”

She felt euphoric but remained in control. “Whatever,” she dismissed cryptically. “We are colleagues. You’re right. We’re both looking at this as an experiment of sorts.” As the wine came, she asked, “Care to pour or shall I?”

“I’d better. You do it and I’ll never hear the end of it,” he told her while pouring two glasses. “There you are. One finely poured glass.”

“And you do it so well,” she complimented.

“Glad you approve,” he countered, barely able to keep the satisfaction off of his face. “I do know about this stuff. I just leave it for people like Wilson. He’s the charmer not me.”

“You could learn a few things from him,” she responded dryly while sipping on the wine. “Mmm…this is great!”

“Thanks for that at least.” He sipped on the drink, savoring the aged liquid. “Love this stuff. Takes some of the edge off.” He popped a pill and finished the drink.

“You take the pills and the wine together?” she asked incredulously.

“Gives me that edge,” he noted with just a bit of glee in his voice as the waiter brought their meals.


****

[An hour later]

House leaned back in his chair; the wine/drug mix in his system coercing him to look at his favorite sight: Cuddy’s chest. As in the poker game from the year before, her evening dress definitely accentuated her high points. I thought it was too cold for that damn thing. She’s throwing out all of the stops. He bit into a remaining piece of his chicken, sampling the meat and spices on his tongue.

She smirked. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“This is a date about indulgences.” He leaned forward and locked glances with her. “I’m indulging myself. The cappuccino and mocha cake here are to die for but…well….” He let the words dangle at the end of the sentence to make her guess at the meaning.

She surveyed the area, finding that the other people around them had cleared out. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

She laughed. “I knew you couldn’t be a gentleman, House. I win.”

He shrugged. “I’m entitled to look, Cuddy. Guys do that occasionally.” Seeing the waiter come back, he requested, “Cake and chocolate cappuccino.”

“Very good,” the waiter agreed before leaving.

“You’re punishing me now? You know what that’s going to cost me at the gym?” she reminded him.

He shrugged. “Yeah I wonder what those online morons you target would think if you gained five pounds?” He scrunched his eyes and stuck out his tongue. “Might have to get out the blimp squad right?”

She sighed. “House, why do you have a problem with the guys I date?”

“Who says I care?” he queried.

Now it was her turn to lean over and stare into his eyes. “Because you’re usually a horse’s ass to deal with. However, when you care about someone, you’re actually decent to deal with. In fact, you’re almost desperate.” She grinned. “You’re vulnerable.”

“Am not,” he denied.

“You are too,” she asserted. “There was the mess with Foreman last year. You know people are still talking about that? Newsflash: it was nice to see you caring for someone. As for my date situation, it’s interesting whenever a guy shows up; you drop the games and hang around my office like a vulture waiting for its prey. Shriner Boy—as you like to call him—ratted you out last night. He knew you for all of five minutes and he could see right through you, House.”

They stopped to allow the waiter to set the drinks and desserts down

She bit into her cake, sampling the cacao on her tongue while observing him.

He sipped thoughtfully on his cappuccino, considering the full impact of her insights. He hated being so outed like that. It was like standing stark naked in front of the world.

And he was really pissed off that she had his number. “So? You’re desperate, Cuddy. That’s what I think. Oh yeah, you’ll have sex with anyone?”

She recalled her quote from the previous evening and smiled. “No. I actually said that I like sex. Nothing wrong with that.” Her dark irises jumped back into his blues. “As I said last night as well before you threw out that lame excuse of yours, a person in your position would either have been concerned about me or wanting to take advantage of me. You weren’t there to take advantage of me last night. You were concerned. All I want to say is thanks for that.”

“Whatever,” he admitted anxiously while sampling his cake. Stealing another quick look at her, he added, “But I get to look as much as I want.” For emphasis, he added a smile and let his eyes shine at her.

She took a deep breath while finishing her drink. With his last facial expression, he had told her what she wanted to know—even if he couldn’t manage the words yet.




Chapter 6 [Cuddy’s House—a half hour later]

Almost in complete symmetry to a couple of hours earlier, House parked the car in the same exact spot from several hours earlier. He set the parking brake and leaned back in his seat, setting every detail in his mind. As much as I wanna go in, I won’t screw things up like that!

As he did this, Cuddy mused on their dinner as well. While she had anticipated an evening long snark-fest with him, the date had turned into something else. He had definitely surprised her, showing facets of his personality she had seen very little of during their long friendship.

He had been a gentleman. He had matched her move for move in the game she’d set up for them. Even when he’d allowed himself a few cheating moments, he lived up to the rules of her dare and the bet.

Besides, she definitely didn’t want another night like the last one. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she wanted him. He’s infuriating and yet I can’t let him go. She wondered if he was her version of vicodin.

Then she recalled Shriner Boy’s assessment about the chemistry that she and House shared.

It’s that obvious to everyone else. Would it be so bad to lose the dare?

“I hate to say it, Cuddy, but it was a decent meal,” he admitted.

“It was that all right,” she concurred while checking her watch. “It’s really late, House.”

He frowned, not quite wanting to break it off yet. Still he wasn’t about to admit that to her. “Fine.”

As she got out of the car, she leaned back in. “You sure you don’t want to come in?”

He eyed her curiously, wanting to be sure he had heard her right.

She clarified herself, “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Take from that what you want.”

He shut the motor off. “This is a trick to make me lose.”

She shook her head. “No, House, it’s not. You impressed me tonight.” She stole a kiss off of his mouth before he could react. “There. I made the move. You won the bet. Just promise me one thing. Whatever we decide or do, we keep things as they are at work. You don’t try to use it against me. I promise no extra clinic hours.”

“Setting terms. What else is new?” he groused.

“Just making sure we don’t end up before the Board, House. Now come on,” she urged.

“It works for me,” he conceded while locking his doors and following her into the house. Once inside, he encircled her waist with his arms, drawing her to him. “I want my money’s worth.”

She kissed him passionately, letting her lips linger on his. “You have your receipts, I’m sure.” Motioning with her eyes up the staircase, she added, “You know the way as I recall.”

Remembering the panty raid, he smirked. “Yeah I think I do.” He took her hand and led her up the carpeted stairs toward the bedroom for that “negotiating session”