Here is part one scene nine. This one is longer and sorry AwesomeHippie, it ends with a cliffhanger.
The board meeting was finally ending. Cuddy had just spent an hour listening to testimonial about how she was a whore and Tritter was just so damn wonderful, the usual stuff. She was so sick of being punished for what had happened. Hadn’t she taken her fill? Wasn’t it over yet? At least she had gotten off with only a suspension, but now the bastard was going to find out what had driven her to America. That would be very bad for her. Not that what she had done was terrible, but the head of the board would construe it to make her look bad. In reality she had done the Americans a favor, or tried to anyway, and this was the thanks she got?
“This doesn’t feel right,” Cuddy said setting a file down on the table.
She and Sarah were at Caribou Coffee looking over possible adopted parents.
“This is not the same as what happened to you,” Sarah replied.
“Look, it’s been a bad day. I really don’t feel like doing this right now.”
“For the past six weeks the entirety of your existence has been of sub-par quality. What’s so special about today?”
“Well to start with I had a flat tire and had to walk. On the way to work I busted a heel and got soaking wet while wearing white. Wilson wasted thirty minutes babbling about how I should have called someone. Apparently House told him that I am pregnant so he had to go all chivalrous on my ass. On top of that the files he gave me that were supposed to be patients were actually lists and records of local therapists. I was late to a board meeting that was supposed to be about expanding the Lucas Wing. Instead I sat there for three hours getting lectured about this thing with Tritter and how I am dragging the hospitals name through the mud and blah blah blah. Now I’m suspended without pay for a week and the head of the board doctor what’s-his-face is going to dig up everything he can from my past so he can take my license.”
“Tritter slashed your tires and you didn’t want to involve anyone else, that’s why you stupidly decided to walk ten miles to work. You could’ve called me. I’m already on the hit-list. As for the board, you will not benefit from maintaining your idealism. The rule of the game is survival of the fittest not survival of the purest. Did you look at the names of those therapists?”
“No.”
“I figured as much. What exactly is it that you are concerned this incompetent bureaucratic son of a bitch will find? I thought you were persecuted because you are Jewish,” Sarah sipped her fifth large White Chocolate Mocha and watched Cuddy carefully.
“You’ve always known there was another piece to the story. Don’t try your psychological trickery crap on me.”
“What could you have possibly done?”
“I’ll tell you some day Sarah, but not now.”
“Intriguing. You’re seriously considering keeping your spawn?”
“That’s all you have to say? Intriguing?”
“If you have a secret the best way to keep it is to keep everyone in the dark. Tell only one person if necessary.”
“You’re going to figure out some way to retrieve my records from Iraq aren’t you?”
“Absolutely not. You didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t know, Sarah. Why does it matter to you? My kid is not your kid.”
“I deeply regret concerning myself with your psychological health,” Sarah replied sarcastically, “If my interference annoys you such go establish contact with ignorant, self-absorbed homo-sapiens.”
“In your definition, all people are selfish.”
“There are varying degrees.”
“I see.”
“Okay, here’s the reason I infer you are reluctant to find pseudo-parents for your procreation: You were abandon by your parents and you remember how that feels and you don’t want to put your kid through the same thing.”
“Do you ever let anyone psychoanalyze you? I’m sure you’d be an interesting study.”
“Indubitably not.”
“What if I interview one of these couples or persons or whatever and they seem nice and all so I give them my baby and they turn out to be molesters or members of one of those freaky cults.”
“True, you never can trust people. However, I have the answer.”
“I’m afraid to ask, but what is your answer?”
”We have these people’s names.”
“Yes….”
“There are only two ways to get the truth about people. One, you converse with their associates or two, you observe them without their knowledge.”
“I believe they call number two stalking.”
“In this context it is called investigation. If it was stalking private investigators would be out of the job.”
“You are not a private investigator.”
“True, you could afford to hire one, but I’m cheaper, free actually, and very good at investigation.”
“Come on. How could you be good at investigation?”
“Psychology classes, we had to study people.”
“How is it that you know all of this random shit?”
“I like to have a diverse set of practical skills.”
“How is knowing how to stalk people practical?”
“You never know. It’s obviously going to come in handy now, because I’m going to investigate these people.”
“Fine, if you get caught and the police haul your ass off to jail, don’t call me cause I’m not going to bail you out.”
“Bureaucratic evil number three is up your anal sphincter because of your situation with Tritter correct?”
“Yes, The Board is only number three?”
“Number one is the IRS, obviously, number two is congress, but it is close. You did at least insinuate that your involvement with Tritter is not consensual right?”
“Of course I did.”
Sarah leaned forward so that her face was inches from Cuddys. Cuddy leaned back and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
“What are you doing,” she asked warily.
Sarah did not bother answering. Instead she narrowed her eyes suspiciously and leaned backwards.
“Why would you do that,” she asked sounding like she already knew the answer.
“Do what? Lean away from you,” Cuddy asked bewildered, “I’m sorry, but I sort of prefer men. I thought you did too.”
“Ha, not even someone as pretty as you could turn me gay. I was checking your pupils for constriction. Isn’t lying against one of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments?”
“You do it all the time and it violates one of your ten commandments.”
“Touche. Why didn’t you defend yourself? Bureaucratic evil number three obviously had the court transcript so they knew what you said happened.”
“The court transcript was given to bureaucratic evil number three by the judge who is obviously on Tritters side in the matter. It is different than me blatantly stating what really happened or trying to prove that what I say is the truth.”
“Who is it that you’re defending?”
“The only other person he’s really threatened, so far, is you.”
“I have a black-belt in several forms of martial arts, I kick-box, I know how to fight. Plus I am currently carrying four concealed weapons. Wilson is the same size if not bigger than Tritter, I’m sure he could probably take care of himself. The person about whom you are concerned who has the least muscular potential would be House.”
“Except for the crippled leg he’s not weak.”
“You are still hormonally attracted to him.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’ll stop mentioning your hormonal attraction to House when you stop being a martyr.”
“I’m not __”
“Since you are going to deny it, here,” Sarah said taking a twenty-two caliber out of her sock and setting it on the table, “Obviously, you’re going to need it.”
“I do not have a gun license.”
“And no one should be able to rape someone and be protected by a county judge. You’re going to have to get your hands dirty on this one.”
“If I break the law they will ship my ass back to Iraq where I will be tortured and killed or to Israel where the Iraqi government will find me then torture and kill me.”
“Then find some other way to fight this. I would gladly kill him, but it would appear that if he dies you die. The only other option is for you to leave the state, but he could easily follow you and you wouldn’t give up your hospital anyway.”
“And you would destroy any other dean of medicine and consequently my hospital.”
“The second consequence would be inadvertent.”
Cuddy fell silent, staring at the gun debating over whether or not to take it. On one hand she was angry enough to shoot him. On the other hand she was sick of this. If she shot him, she would be put on trial, then there would be an immigration hearing, and it would all be dragged out for years, decades even. All she wanted was to continue her life in peace, but that did not seem to be an option. It was never an option. If one thing wasn’t going wrong another was. If one storm ended another was in its wake. That’s how it had been for the past eighteen years. Yet, she had maintained her idealism, her optimism that things would get better. She could kill him and run, but that would entail leaving her hospital, her hospital that she had worked so hard for. Giving up her job, just about the only good thing in her life, was a deal breaker. There were other ways to kill people, but the instant he died the police would come barging through her door and they would fry her with either real or falsified evidence. How perfectly he had erased her options.
Three hours later…
House walked up to Cuddys door and began banging on it urgently with his cane. She had not been at work that day. For some reason it worried him. After several minutes of standing there banging incessantly on the door she did not answer. Suddenly he heard a faint clinking sound, like metal hitting cement.
If he thinks he is going to do anything else to her, I swear to God, House thought angrily. Quietly, he crept in the direction of the sound, his cane raised above his head threateningly. It had come from the garage he was sure of it. There were many things in Cuddys garage that were metal and could be used to beat her. The thought of that sickened him and made him go faster. He rounded the corner into the garage and found himself staring down the barrel of a twenty-two caliber.
The board meeting was finally ending. Cuddy had just spent an hour listening to testimonial about how she was a whore and Tritter was just so damn wonderful, the usual stuff. She was so sick of being punished for what had happened. Hadn’t she taken her fill? Wasn’t it over yet? At least she had gotten off with only a suspension, but now the bastard was going to find out what had driven her to America. That would be very bad for her. Not that what she had done was terrible, but the head of the board would construe it to make her look bad. In reality she had done the Americans a favor, or tried to anyway, and this was the thanks she got?
“This doesn’t feel right,” Cuddy said setting a file down on the table.
She and Sarah were at Caribou Coffee looking over possible adopted parents.
“This is not the same as what happened to you,” Sarah replied.
“Look, it’s been a bad day. I really don’t feel like doing this right now.”
“For the past six weeks the entirety of your existence has been of sub-par quality. What’s so special about today?”
“Well to start with I had a flat tire and had to walk. On the way to work I busted a heel and got soaking wet while wearing white. Wilson wasted thirty minutes babbling about how I should have called someone. Apparently House told him that I am pregnant so he had to go all chivalrous on my ass. On top of that the files he gave me that were supposed to be patients were actually lists and records of local therapists. I was late to a board meeting that was supposed to be about expanding the Lucas Wing. Instead I sat there for three hours getting lectured about this thing with Tritter and how I am dragging the hospitals name through the mud and blah blah blah. Now I’m suspended without pay for a week and the head of the board doctor what’s-his-face is going to dig up everything he can from my past so he can take my license.”
“Tritter slashed your tires and you didn’t want to involve anyone else, that’s why you stupidly decided to walk ten miles to work. You could’ve called me. I’m already on the hit-list. As for the board, you will not benefit from maintaining your idealism. The rule of the game is survival of the fittest not survival of the purest. Did you look at the names of those therapists?”
“No.”
“I figured as much. What exactly is it that you are concerned this incompetent bureaucratic son of a bitch will find? I thought you were persecuted because you are Jewish,” Sarah sipped her fifth large White Chocolate Mocha and watched Cuddy carefully.
“You’ve always known there was another piece to the story. Don’t try your psychological trickery crap on me.”
“What could you have possibly done?”
“I’ll tell you some day Sarah, but not now.”
“Intriguing. You’re seriously considering keeping your spawn?”
“That’s all you have to say? Intriguing?”
“If you have a secret the best way to keep it is to keep everyone in the dark. Tell only one person if necessary.”
“You’re going to figure out some way to retrieve my records from Iraq aren’t you?”
“Absolutely not. You didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t know, Sarah. Why does it matter to you? My kid is not your kid.”
“I deeply regret concerning myself with your psychological health,” Sarah replied sarcastically, “If my interference annoys you such go establish contact with ignorant, self-absorbed homo-sapiens.”
“In your definition, all people are selfish.”
“There are varying degrees.”
“I see.”
“Okay, here’s the reason I infer you are reluctant to find pseudo-parents for your procreation: You were abandon by your parents and you remember how that feels and you don’t want to put your kid through the same thing.”
“Do you ever let anyone psychoanalyze you? I’m sure you’d be an interesting study.”
“Indubitably not.”
“What if I interview one of these couples or persons or whatever and they seem nice and all so I give them my baby and they turn out to be molesters or members of one of those freaky cults.”
“True, you never can trust people. However, I have the answer.”
“I’m afraid to ask, but what is your answer?”
”We have these people’s names.”
“Yes….”
“There are only two ways to get the truth about people. One, you converse with their associates or two, you observe them without their knowledge.”
“I believe they call number two stalking.”
“In this context it is called investigation. If it was stalking private investigators would be out of the job.”
“You are not a private investigator.”
“True, you could afford to hire one, but I’m cheaper, free actually, and very good at investigation.”
“Come on. How could you be good at investigation?”
“Psychology classes, we had to study people.”
“How is it that you know all of this random shit?”
“I like to have a diverse set of practical skills.”
“How is knowing how to stalk people practical?”
“You never know. It’s obviously going to come in handy now, because I’m going to investigate these people.”
“Fine, if you get caught and the police haul your ass off to jail, don’t call me cause I’m not going to bail you out.”
“Bureaucratic evil number three is up your anal sphincter because of your situation with Tritter correct?”
“Yes, The Board is only number three?”
“Number one is the IRS, obviously, number two is congress, but it is close. You did at least insinuate that your involvement with Tritter is not consensual right?”
“Of course I did.”
Sarah leaned forward so that her face was inches from Cuddys. Cuddy leaned back and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
“What are you doing,” she asked warily.
Sarah did not bother answering. Instead she narrowed her eyes suspiciously and leaned backwards.
“Why would you do that,” she asked sounding like she already knew the answer.
“Do what? Lean away from you,” Cuddy asked bewildered, “I’m sorry, but I sort of prefer men. I thought you did too.”
“Ha, not even someone as pretty as you could turn me gay. I was checking your pupils for constriction. Isn’t lying against one of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments?”
“You do it all the time and it violates one of your ten commandments.”
“Touche. Why didn’t you defend yourself? Bureaucratic evil number three obviously had the court transcript so they knew what you said happened.”
“The court transcript was given to bureaucratic evil number three by the judge who is obviously on Tritters side in the matter. It is different than me blatantly stating what really happened or trying to prove that what I say is the truth.”
“Who is it that you’re defending?”
“The only other person he’s really threatened, so far, is you.”
“I have a black-belt in several forms of martial arts, I kick-box, I know how to fight. Plus I am currently carrying four concealed weapons. Wilson is the same size if not bigger than Tritter, I’m sure he could probably take care of himself. The person about whom you are concerned who has the least muscular potential would be House.”
“Except for the crippled leg he’s not weak.”
“You are still hormonally attracted to him.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’ll stop mentioning your hormonal attraction to House when you stop being a martyr.”
“I’m not __”
“Since you are going to deny it, here,” Sarah said taking a twenty-two caliber out of her sock and setting it on the table, “Obviously, you’re going to need it.”
“I do not have a gun license.”
“And no one should be able to rape someone and be protected by a county judge. You’re going to have to get your hands dirty on this one.”
“If I break the law they will ship my ass back to Iraq where I will be tortured and killed or to Israel where the Iraqi government will find me then torture and kill me.”
“Then find some other way to fight this. I would gladly kill him, but it would appear that if he dies you die. The only other option is for you to leave the state, but he could easily follow you and you wouldn’t give up your hospital anyway.”
“And you would destroy any other dean of medicine and consequently my hospital.”
“The second consequence would be inadvertent.”
Cuddy fell silent, staring at the gun debating over whether or not to take it. On one hand she was angry enough to shoot him. On the other hand she was sick of this. If she shot him, she would be put on trial, then there would be an immigration hearing, and it would all be dragged out for years, decades even. All she wanted was to continue her life in peace, but that did not seem to be an option. It was never an option. If one thing wasn’t going wrong another was. If one storm ended another was in its wake. That’s how it had been for the past eighteen years. Yet, she had maintained her idealism, her optimism that things would get better. She could kill him and run, but that would entail leaving her hospital, her hospital that she had worked so hard for. Giving up her job, just about the only good thing in her life, was a deal breaker. There were other ways to kill people, but the instant he died the police would come barging through her door and they would fry her with either real or falsified evidence. How perfectly he had erased her options.
Three hours later…
House walked up to Cuddys door and began banging on it urgently with his cane. She had not been at work that day. For some reason it worried him. After several minutes of standing there banging incessantly on the door she did not answer. Suddenly he heard a faint clinking sound, like metal hitting cement.
If he thinks he is going to do anything else to her, I swear to God, House thought angrily. Quietly, he crept in the direction of the sound, his cane raised above his head threateningly. It had come from the garage he was sure of it. There were many things in Cuddys garage that were metal and could be used to beat her. The thought of that sickened him and made him go faster. He rounded the corner into the garage and found himself staring down the barrel of a twenty-two caliber.
