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hihoplasticFanFiction: FanFic100: WilsonCuddy (5/6)
Title: Well It Goes Like This (5/6)
Fandom: House, MD
Character/Pairing: WilsonCuddy
Prompt: 036: Smell
Word Count: 808
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: No spoilers. Titles from the various versions of Halellujah. Part one, two, three, four, five, six.
Love Is Not A Victory March
She passes him on the way to the board meeting without a word, the first sign he knows something is wrong. She doesn’t make eye contact, the second clue, and when she leaves she leaves quickly, and doesn’t wait for him to follow.
He tries to ambush her in her office, but she isn’t there, and the whole hall smells like lavender. He almost catches her as she comes out of the clinic, but a patient calls his name and she ducks away. He tries her office again, but again she’s nowhere to be found, and he can tell by the atmosphere in which it’s vacant that something happened, and he can guess what.
Julie happened. He can smell her perfume, trying to drown the sent of flowers he’s come to love so much.
Sighing, he drops onto the couch and waits. Not long, because her office is her sanctuary – or rather was – and eventually she has to seek refuge in the familiar.
‘Oh. Dr. Wilson.’
She slips past him, eyes on the folder in front of her and retreats behind her desk.
‘What happened?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I know Julie was here.’
Her shoulders tense and she looks quickly away. ‘Nothing. We had a nice little chat.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing. It’s fine, Wilson.’
‘You’re using my last name again.’
‘We’re at the hospital.’
He nods slowly. The fact that he is married never seems to bother her as much as hospital politics. It’s her child, her love, the one thing she’ll admit to having. He can only hope she knows she has him, too.
‘Cuddy,’ he says slowly and she looks up. Her eyes are glossy and her smile weak. ‘I knew what would happen. I’m not sorry.’
‘I am,’ she murmurs, and shifts quickly to cover the sound.
‘Why?’ She tries to skate past him but he grabs her arm. ‘Why?’
‘Wilson—’
‘Nobody’s paying any attention, Cuddy. Just answer my question.’
‘It’s… God… It’s your marriage! It’s—’
‘Yeah, and it’s over now.’
Cuddy looks up suddenly, the air jumping from her lungs. ‘What?’
‘It’s not your fault, Cuddy,’ he says over her, ‘Oh, god.’
‘It’s not.’ He releases her arm and presses both hands to her face. ‘Nobody’s blaming you.’
‘Julie—’
‘Julie blames me. And she blames herself. And I’m sorry if she took that out on you, and I’m sorry you got caught in the middle. But I won’t be sorry it’s over, and I won’t be sorry for what we have.’
‘What do we have?’ She whispers, and pulls away, using the distance to compose herself.
‘Lisa.’
‘We’re at the hospital,’ she says, but her voice fails and he steps closer.
‘So what?’ he murmurs, and catches her lips. The response is instant, and she craves the familiar ground as much as he does; but as his grip tightens so do the knots in her stomach. He can taste flower petals and chap-stick; she can taste rich perfume and vanilla, and it makes her sick.
‘I’m sorry.’
She tears herself from his arms and tries to wipe the taste from her lips.
‘Lisa—’
‘Don’t you get it? This is… this wasn’t supposed to happen.’
‘What? My divorce? Us?’
‘Any of it! Once would have been bad enough, but—’
‘Bad enough?’ He tries desperately not to look wounded, but doubts he succeeds.
‘Not… that’s not what I meant.’
‘What do you mean, Cuddy?’ His emphasis on her name makes her flinch, and he wishes he could take it back. Too late.
Her voice drops. ‘I didn’t mean for this to happen.’
‘Neither did I. But it did, and I’m telling you that it isn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be.’
‘Then why does it hurt so much?’
The question catches him in the back and he frowns. ‘This… really bothers you, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes. And it should bother you, too.’
‘Of course it bothers me. I’m getting divorced for God’s sake—again! Not exactly a list of successes. But weighing this outcome against the alternative route wherein this never happened…’ he shakes his head. ‘It’s not a contest.’
‘Do you really think that little of your wives?’
‘If I ever have a good one, I’ll let you know. Cuddy—’ Her eyes flicker and for the first time there’s a small plot of fear collapsing in his stomach and everything feels like it’s sinking. ‘I’m not sorry.’
They lock eyes for a moment, and he hopes she can see the truth in what he says. But she looks away, and he feels something inside break.
‘I have to go. I have a…’ She gestures, but shakes her head and refuses to look at him. ‘I have to go.’
He reaches out again, but she’s gone, and his hand grasps only the sent of lavender.
Title: Well It Goes Like This (5/6)
Fandom: House, MD
Character/Pairing: WilsonCuddy
Prompt: 036: Smell
Word Count: 808
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: No spoilers. Titles from the various versions of Halellujah. Part one, two, three, four, five, six.
Love Is Not A Victory March
She passes him on the way to the board meeting without a word, the first sign he knows something is wrong. She doesn’t make eye contact, the second clue, and when she leaves she leaves quickly, and doesn’t wait for him to follow.
He tries to ambush her in her office, but she isn’t there, and the whole hall smells like lavender. He almost catches her as she comes out of the clinic, but a patient calls his name and she ducks away. He tries her office again, but again she’s nowhere to be found, and he can tell by the atmosphere in which it’s vacant that something happened, and he can guess what.
Julie happened. He can smell her perfume, trying to drown the sent of flowers he’s come to love so much.
Sighing, he drops onto the couch and waits. Not long, because her office is her sanctuary – or rather was – and eventually she has to seek refuge in the familiar.
‘Oh. Dr. Wilson.’
She slips past him, eyes on the folder in front of her and retreats behind her desk.
‘What happened?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I know Julie was here.’
Her shoulders tense and she looks quickly away. ‘Nothing. We had a nice little chat.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing. It’s fine, Wilson.’
‘You’re using my last name again.’
‘We’re at the hospital.’
He nods slowly. The fact that he is married never seems to bother her as much as hospital politics. It’s her child, her love, the one thing she’ll admit to having. He can only hope she knows she has him, too.
‘Cuddy,’ he says slowly and she looks up. Her eyes are glossy and her smile weak. ‘I knew what would happen. I’m not sorry.’
‘I am,’ she murmurs, and shifts quickly to cover the sound.
‘Why?’ She tries to skate past him but he grabs her arm. ‘Why?’
‘Wilson—’
‘Nobody’s paying any attention, Cuddy. Just answer my question.’
‘It’s… God… It’s your marriage! It’s—’
‘Yeah, and it’s over now.’
Cuddy looks up suddenly, the air jumping from her lungs. ‘What?’
‘It’s not your fault, Cuddy,’ he says over her, ‘Oh, god.’
‘It’s not.’ He releases her arm and presses both hands to her face. ‘Nobody’s blaming you.’
‘Julie—’
‘Julie blames me. And she blames herself. And I’m sorry if she took that out on you, and I’m sorry you got caught in the middle. But I won’t be sorry it’s over, and I won’t be sorry for what we have.’
‘What do we have?’ She whispers, and pulls away, using the distance to compose herself.
‘Lisa.’
‘We’re at the hospital,’ she says, but her voice fails and he steps closer.
‘So what?’ he murmurs, and catches her lips. The response is instant, and she craves the familiar ground as much as he does; but as his grip tightens so do the knots in her stomach. He can taste flower petals and chap-stick; she can taste rich perfume and vanilla, and it makes her sick.
‘I’m sorry.’
She tears herself from his arms and tries to wipe the taste from her lips.
‘Lisa—’
‘Don’t you get it? This is… this wasn’t supposed to happen.’
‘What? My divorce? Us?’
‘Any of it! Once would have been bad enough, but—’
‘Bad enough?’ He tries desperately not to look wounded, but doubts he succeeds.
‘Not… that’s not what I meant.’
‘What do you mean, Cuddy?’ His emphasis on her name makes her flinch, and he wishes he could take it back. Too late.
Her voice drops. ‘I didn’t mean for this to happen.’
‘Neither did I. But it did, and I’m telling you that it isn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be.’
‘Then why does it hurt so much?’
The question catches him in the back and he frowns. ‘This… really bothers you, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes. And it should bother you, too.’
‘Of course it bothers me. I’m getting divorced for God’s sake—again! Not exactly a list of successes. But weighing this outcome against the alternative route wherein this never happened…’ he shakes his head. ‘It’s not a contest.’
‘Do you really think that little of your wives?’
‘If I ever have a good one, I’ll let you know. Cuddy—’ Her eyes flicker and for the first time there’s a small plot of fear collapsing in his stomach and everything feels like it’s sinking. ‘I’m not sorry.’
They lock eyes for a moment, and he hopes she can see the truth in what he says. But she looks away, and he feels something inside break.
‘I have to go. I have a…’ She gestures, but shakes her head and refuses to look at him. ‘I have to go.’
He reaches out again, but she’s gone, and his hand grasps only the sent of lavender.
