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Fic repost the Witching Hour Part One

Title: The Witching Hour (part one)
Originally posted; Halloween 2007
Author: Avidreadergirl
Disclaimer: Don't sue me!
Rating: R for soft-focus sex and language
Spoilers: up to 4x05 Mirror, Mirror (set just after this episode) 
Summary: When Boo-Peep ditches House at the Halloween Pedes Fundraiser he sets his sights on tricking some treats out of the Wicked Witch. Huddy Halloween Fluff
Pairing: House/Cuddy, Cameron and Wilson
A/N grateful thanks to my beta silverwaterfall</lj>  , who rocks, and takes the time to put my commas where they belong even when whacked out on lithium and radioactive iodine. All mistakes that remain belong to me.

Part One

Greg House slumped at a table in what had once been the atrium of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. To be fair, it was still the atrium. It was now just pulling in overtime as the site of the annual Pediatrics Halloween Costume Fundraiser.

Overtime: something I don’t get, he groused inwardly. 


He’d have been happy to grouse outwardly, but he was being given a wide berth by most of the party goers.  Wilson, dressed up as the Phantom of the Opera, wearing his tuxedo from his last wedding and a half mask, had been keeping a discrete eye on him at first; but Wilson loved the parties, the mixing, the mingling, the talking to idiots.  He was now tipsy and going up to random women and asking if they wanted to see his lair. It was working, too, the show-off. House’s scowl deepened.  Better remember to wrap lil Jimmy, he thought at his friend, as he watched him reel in a pretty blond woman in a dirndl, I’ve treated her for sex-while-stupid before.  Wilson, however, was no better at reading his mind than usual as he started to dance her out of the room.

House pulled his cell phone out and hit the speed dial.

“Busy,” Wilson’s voice was high and breathy. He could hear giggling in the background.

“Trick or treat?”

“Oh for god’s sake, House.”

“Never mind, I’ve got a message for Goldilocks,” House said, “tell her to remember to take all her Doxycycline.” There was silence on the other end. “Otherwise, the infection will just come back and she’ll spread it to some poor schmuck, which is way more of a trick than a treat if you ask--“ 

“I hate you.”

House hung up with a smile.

“Does she really have an STD or are you just mad that Wilson is getting some?”

House winced. He hadn’t heard her come over. He turned and gave Cuddy an arch look.

“That would be in violation of doctor-patient confidentiality, wouldn’t it, Dr. Cuddy?” he asked innocently.

She made a face at him and sat down, leaning her broomstick on the table. She was wearing a black dress that was silky and slinky and showed off the fun bags, topped with a pointy hat and artfully disarranged hair.

Witch was a good look for her.

“So you’ve decided to fulfill my French maid fantasy!” he leered at the fun bags in question. “Wrong hat, though, and the skirt should be shorter.” He reached out and started gathering it up slowly. “Oh, but the fishnets are right on target. Are those red shoes?” He almost moaned when they came into view.

She didn’t say anything; just slapped his hand away and gestured to a waiter.

“I know you can’t be dressed as an evil witch,” he continued, “because someone told me, I forget who that was, that no scary costumes were allowed this year.” He gave her a direct stare. The Halloween Costume Party Fundraiser was one of the few events he’d always gleefully attended.  He’d generally picked a venereal disease, taken it to its most horrific untreated extreme and applied makeup and effects accordingly

“I didn’t say 'no scary costumes,’” Cuddy said as the waiter brought her a bottled water. “I said no grossly inappropriate and disgusting costumes.” She glared at him. “That fake bleeding penis last year crossed the line, House, and you know it.”

“No one has a sense of humor anymore.”

Cuddy glanced at him. “What the hell are you supposed to be anyway?”

House looked down at his scrubs, Wilson’s stethoscope hanging from his neck. “I’m a male nurse.” 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

A male nurse.

Lisa Cuddy’s mind reeled and the laughter exploded out of her at the image of Greg House, the Greg House, directly involved with patient care, working 12 hour shifts and being forced to defer to the wishes of high and mighty doctors.

“Does this mean you’re going to vote for me for best costume?” He asked after a moment as she tried to control her laughter. “You always rig it so the benefactors win. Don’t think I don’t know.” There was a grumpy note to his voice. Cuddy glanced up in time to catch his glare. 

“This party isn’t for us, House. It is for the benefactors, and most importantly, the kids in Pedes.” The laughter died as quickly as it had come. Remember you’re working, she chided herself.

The hospital wasn’t in the black; it hadn’t been since Vogler had pulled out. House didn’t know that. Wilson didn’t understand how bad it was. And her job was balanced on a very thin line that had gotten a lot thinner during Detective Tritter’s investigation. It was like trying to walk a tightrope made of spider web, and underneath a pool full of sharks waited for dinner.  They’d been waiting since she’d gotten the job. They were always waiting. One day she was going to fall in, and she knew it.

One day soon, maybe.

Cuddy frowned at her bottled water and picked up House’s scotch instead, taking a healthy gulp. She didn’t drink at the hospital parties, ever.  Someone needed to be sober. But rules are made to be broken, she thought, as House demonstrates daily.  

“You got administrator cooties all over it!” House accused her, grabbing his drink back.

“Too bad you’re immune,” she sighed.

All she could do was focus on the day to day. And this was supposed to have been a fun day, but it wasn’t. There had been several parties earlier in the various Pedes wings.  She’d gone to those to pass out candy and read stories, and while the parties had been as fun as the hospital could make them, she knew in her gut that they weren’t fun enough.

The kids knew it too.

She stood up abruptly and scanned the room. “I’m going back to work,” she let herself glare at House. “You should try it sometime.”

“Wait.”

“What?” she asked impatiently.

“Don’t forget your metaphor,” he pointed with his chin to the broomstick leaning on the table. “I’m glad I’m not the only one here with a visible penis substitute.”  He rubbed his cane with… affection.

Cuddy’s eyebrows popped up and she picked up the broomstick, letting her fingers caress it, running them up and down the handle in a suggestive rhythm.  Her blue eyes sparkled as she leaned over him, letting her breasts push against the flimsy silk.

“My metaphor is longer than your metaphor,” she breathed, watching his eyes, focused on her breasts as usual, widen and go dark.

“Yeah, and you can sweep the floor with it, too,” he swallowed exaggeratedly, “but I wanna watch.”

Cuddy rolled her eyes and stalked away. Damn, I should have stayed away from the scotch, and him, mostly him.  But she squared her shoulders and marched back into the fray, determined to wrestle rich people away from their money.

“I’m not kidding about that!” he called after her.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

House leaned back and enjoyed the view as Cuddy’s ass bounced away.

There really was no way for him to lose their little innuendo duels.  If he lost, the fun bags were usually on display and quivering with the joy of victory. If he won he got to watch Cuddy’s ass as she stalked off, and the angrier she was the more the ass bounced. Win-win. He took another drink of scotch.

“You can’t leave well enough alone can you?”  Wilson groused, sitting down and opening the bottle of water Cuddy had left on the table.

“No, but I can leave a pretty girl with an embarrassing infection alone.”

“I’ve got—“

“I’m sure you have several condoms stashed on your person,” House said, looking at Wilson from the corners of his eyes. “Better safe than coming to me for a really embarrassing prescription I won’t ever let you forget.”

“Uh-huh. You piss Cuddy off?” Wilson changed the subject. “She’s got a little wiggle going on.”

“Of course.” House watched her chat up an improbably elderly hula boy. “It wouldn’t be a party otherwise.  And you owe me fifty bucks.”

“What for?”

“Cuddy had a drink.”

“No way!”

“Way!” House held out his hand.

“I don’t believe you. She was just here, I saw her leave, and the water was her drink.”

“The unopened water was her drink,” House glowered at his own drink. “She grabbed my scotch and polluted it with girl germs.”

“I don’t believe you,” Wilson repeated, giving House an intense stare. “No way you’d offer, no way she’d take it. I’ve won that fifty at every fundraiser the last three years--“

“And you wonder why you always have to lend me money? And I didn’t offer it, she just went all grabby. It was creepy, but it did happen.” He pointed to the faint lipstick mark on the glass.

“End of the year budget stuff coming up,” Wilson said sagely after watching Cuddy circulate for a moment. “Rumor is it’s gonna be ugly. I’d better go help her beg for money for the greater good.”

And Wilson ambled off, doing his boy scout best to make a good impression on the benefactors.

House watched the party swirl around him. Some people came to talk to him; the newest, but still provisional members of his team, who were wearing simple and inoffensive costumes. Cameron, who had apparently volunteered to help with the parties on the wards and was in a full Glinda the Good Witch costume, complete with extremely poufy skirt, full sparkly headdress and wand, and Forman grumpy in a pirate outfit. He hadn’t seen Chase, but Cameron told him, not that he cared, that Chase was on call.

“You should try it some time,” she teased him, “you get out of having to go to the parties if you’re working.”

“Unfortunately I’m a department head,” House scowled, “the Wicked Witch of Princeton-Plainsboro made it clear that my participation was required.”

“The Wicked Witch?”

“Yup, she of the pointy hat and broomstick-like appliance, Your Goodness.” He’d indicated Cuddy in the crowd.

“Oh.” Cameron was suddenly suppressing a smile. “Well, you know there are several traditional ways to deal with Witches. Fire, water,” she stood up and backed away from the table big skirts glittering in the party lights, “or you could drop a house on her.”

“Are you high?” He leaned forward, trying to get a look at her eyes,

“Think about it,” she laughed and swayed off. Which would have been charming but you couldn’t even tell where her ass was under all that glitter. That was no fun at all.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It was eleven-thirty at night, the party was still going on, but it was winding down and Cuddy was tired. It had been a success, everyone had had fun, No one had done anything ridiculously embarrassing and they’d gotten a lot of promises for donations. The one thing she’d miscalculated was House.

He was usually the one doing the ridiculously embarrassing things, and several of their largest benefactors had commented on the fact that they missed it.

What happened to Venereal Disease Guy?  She’d heard the question about twenty times that evening and so she’d had to explain about last year, about the complaints she’d gotten. They had then complained that “stuck up old fogies with no sense of humor shouldn’t be allowed to ruin nearly innocent fun.” And this from a 75-year-old retired bank president.

You can’t please everybody, she told herself, sadly scanning the room. House was gone; she’d seen him lurch off with an absurdly young woman in a Bo-Peep costume. Wilson was sitting at a table with a group of people who directed their donations to oncology, talking animatedly. From the way his hands were sketching in the air she thought it was about the new MRI’s that were coming out. They were less noisy, more comfortable, in general more user-friendly and even more expensive. 

The evening was over. She could go.

She pulled her pointy hat off and headed to her office.

::::::::::::::::::

House dozed.

He’d almost had a good time, there was an open bar and Bo-Peep had been silly and sweet and just barely old enough to not get him thrown in jail. She hadn’t had a condom though. And he wasn’t board certified in infectious disease for nothing. So he’d had to find Wilson, pick his pocket for condoms and by the time he’d gotten back to the exam room he’d stashed her in, Dr. Ayersman was already there taking her temperature, the old goat.

So now he was trying to sleep off some of the scotch on Cuddy’s sofa. Which was damned uncomfortable, but at least no one was likely to come looking for him here. The nice thing about having a reputation for not getting along with someone was that, by seeking out their personal space, no one knew where to look for you. 

Of course they hadn’t always not gotten along. Once, they’d gotten along very well, almost, he grinned to himself like a House on fire. Damn, he’d been looking forward to getting laid. 

He blinked a little as the door to Cuddy’s office opened and she stalked in, not looking his way, flipping on the lights and tossing the pointy hat at the sofa and onto his face.

“Hey!” he protested, swiping it off and then blinked. Cuddy had been about to get undressed. Her hands were behind her back and the top of her dress was slipping down as she gaped at him.  Idiot!  He cursed himself. Couldn’t keep your big mouth shut for once.

“House!”

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he begged, “please keep getting undressed, pretty please?”

She straightened up and pulled the top of the dress so it was more or less back in place and glared at him.

“Get out, House.”

“But the show was just starting.”

“Show’s over--“

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled and sat up, “how was the party, Your Witchiness? Did you make oodles of money for the greedy little goblins in Pedes?”

“Party was fine. Lots of donations,” she sighed a moment, closing her eyes. “We actually got complaints about the complaints about your costume last year. So you can do the absurd disgusting costume thing next year, if you have too, but no bleeding genitalia please. “

“Wow, you told me the truth!” He beamed at her viciously and got up fishing for his cane. “This is so gonna go on my blog. Hospital administratrix tells truth to employee. Is it a Sign of the Apocalypse or A Halloween Miracle?” He limped over to her. He felt a stirring of interest from his southern pole. Well, why not? He thought slowly.  

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping a minor count sheep?”

“Nooo,” he grinned down at her considering. Bo-Peep was ok but there’s something so sexy about the wicked witch. “She ditched me for Ayersman. Which shows a stunning lack of judgment and that makes me think I dodged a bullet. Turn around.”

“What?”

“Zipper, I need you to give me a ride home, I’m not ready to donate my organs yet,” he explained, “my blood alcohol is still on the upswing, and you’re nearly sober.” This was true enough. He was too drunk to risk the bike, and if she took him home, she’d be at his house. If she was at his house he could convince her to come inside, if she was inside….he tried to keep his intentions off his face.  

“Get Wilson--“

“He’s mad at me and just as buzzed as I am.”

“Your team--“

“Don’t want them to know where I live, learned that the hard way with the last team.”

“Cameron,” she glared at him with a knowing twitch to her lips.

“She’d make sure Chase came too, and that would just be awkward.”

“Forman.“

“Just turn around,” he groused.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” she sighed again. He repressed a grin. “Get out. I’ll change and take you home.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“No, don’t change,” he complained.

“The party is over, House,” she told him firmly, “time to get back to normal.”

“Riiiight, only this is the first time I’ve seen you without a mask on in years.”

She flinched, feeling that sentence like a sharp slap on the face. 

“Stop it!” he growled, “it wasn’t an insult.” He grabbed her shoulders and turned her. “When did you get so thin-skinned anyway?” He was silent a moment and she could feel his eyes on her bare back. “I take it back, the skin is perfect.”

“House.”

She felt his hand drift firmly over her bottom.

“House!”

“Oh, all right, suck all the fun out of everything.” He started pulling the zipper up, but he did it slowly and she could feel his finger running up her spine ahead of it.

“House,” she sighed.

“Mmm,” he agreed.

 The witching hour part two is here....

Comments

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
vulcanicity
Oct. 26th, 2008 08:56 am (UTC)
YAY! I've just finished reading this part (and I'm just about to read the second part) and I have to say: I love this part so so so much! XD
silent_snark
Oct. 26th, 2008 05:41 pm (UTC)
I love the layers and details you've crafted into a deceptively simple Halloween story. I'll say more after I read Part @, but this is fantastic so far!
meelsie_love78
Oct. 27th, 2008 05:23 am (UTC)
Who knew Cameron was so witty?
Hee, 'drop a house on her'!!
Lovely!
Moving straight on to Part Two...
avidreadergirl
Oct. 27th, 2008 08:46 pm (UTC)
Re: Who knew Cameron was so witty?
Thank you so much for the comment! I've wanted to bring up that little tidbit from the wizard of Oz for a while (given how House has no probs calling Cuddy the "evil witch") and i figured Cam in a glenda dress would be the perfect one to point it out. :)
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )