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Being the Dean of Medicine at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital isn’t easy, especially with House running around doing as he pleases. That was metaphorical, of course. House can’t actually run.
It was 5 a.m; and darkness still enveloped Cuddy’s bedroom. But darkness doesn’t stop a hospital from running smoothly. No, that was her job. And she does a damn good job of it. The morning starts with a quick 20-minute yoga session: nothing too easy, nothing overly challenging. Just something that makes her feel awake. Something she does for herself because she can. No pressure. No stress. That’s how she likes to start her day. Around 5:30, Cuddy steps into the shower, checking the time constantly as if she were running late, a low chance, but never zero.
Drifting over to her wardrobe, she picks out a tight, white, knee-length skirt, one of her favorites and a pink blouse. She didn’t need House commenting on her attire today; she was far too busy for that. Breakfast is next on her agenda. Nothing too elaborate, but something that would hold her over until her scheduled late lunch. Scrambled eggs. Yeah, that would work nicely.
It’s now 6:54 a.m. Cuddy is going through her emails while eating her breakfast, making sure everything is in place for today’s fundraiser. She’s been planning it for months, hoping for at least an 8% increase in donations. House and his team keep finding new and creative ways to destroy the hospital’s equipment, leaving Cuddy to handle all the paperwork for replacements. She’s still waiting for an apology. Not that she expects to get one, but a woman can dream that her most problematic employee will behave, at least once in a while. Especially on a day like today.
Cuddy leaves the house earlier than usual. The board has scheduled an early meeting, much to her annoyance. So she gets in her car and drives to the hospital just as the sun begins to rise… yeah, she definitely needs coffee - sooner rather than later. It’s going to be a long day.
She has barely stepped into the hospital when one of her best nurses approaches her.
“Dr. House hasn’t done his clinic hours for the last three days, and your scheduled 8 a.m. meeting is waiting in the conference room. They haven’t been here long, but I wouldn’t keep them waiting” the nurse informs her.
Cuddy simply nods.
“Double House’s clinic hours and I’ll head up to the conference room now. Thank you”
Cuddy rushed to drop off her bag and grab the necessary files from her office before making her way to the meeting. Composing her thoughts, she steps into the glass room. All eyes on her.
“My apologies for keeping you waiting. I’ve been informed you’d like an update on how the hospital’s funds are allocated before today’s fundraiser...?”
The meeting drags on for what seems like forever. Even Cuddy finds herself bored. As usual, the board can’t find any faults in how she’s managing the hospital’s budget, and she hopes they never will. Returning to her office, she dives into paperwork. As mind-numbing as it is, staying on top of it is vital. Procrastination only punishes her. Her future self will thank her for keeping ahead while she has the time.
As time passes, the hospital begins to fill with tired doctors, sick patients, and scurrying nurses. Outside Cuddy’s office is the imperfect melody of utter pandemonium, something she’s grown used to over her years as administrator. Rising from her seat, Cuddy makes her way to the lobby, flipping through files. House has a new case, and she needs him to start on it as soon as possible.
Wilson passes by, grabbing a patient file for his clinic hours from beside her before heading to Exam Room Two.
“Good luck today. I’m sure you’ll need it” he says before shutting the door. Great, what does that mean?
He certainly knows something Cuddy doesn’t. Likely something to do with House, again. They’re living together now, after all. Sighing, Cuddy heads to the elevator, dropping off House’s case file with Foreman, who’ll likely get a start on it before House shows up.
“A 19-year-old female came into the ER a few hours ago with severe abdominal pain. Since then, she’s spiked a fever and developed sudden tachycardia” Cuddy explains, handing files to the team and leaving a spare for House.
“Could be a heart problem- heart valve disease. I suggest we biopsy her heart” one of the doctors adds.
With the case sorted for now, Cuddy leaves the office heading back to her own - until House exits the elevator, the rhythmic tap of his cane impossible to miss.
“House… You know you can’t be here when you’re obviously sick! Go back home and take a paid sick day” she says firmly, fully aware he won’t listen but asserting her authority anyway.
“I don’t see the problem. It’s a hospital. Full of sick people of all sorts. It’s not like I actually go and see my patients. Imagine if I did that” he says with an exaggerated eye roll, sniffling as he walks into his team’s office.
Gosh, Cuddy does not need this today.
She points at House and mouths to the team, through the glass ‘Keep him in here’ hoping at least they’ll listen.
“Dr. Cuddy, the pharmacy needs your assistance.”
Making her way down, she finds that the latest shipment included medications they didn’t order.
“Great. So we have extra meds. What exactly is the problem?”
“We don’t have the required long-term-” he begins before she cuts him off.
“Then call the supplier and settle the dispute. I have a lot to do today” she says with a firm nod before heading back to her office - though she’s stopped in the lobby multiple times, each interaction costing her at least 20 minutes she doesn’t have.
Before she knows it, she has a meeting with all the department heads - including a sick House and his amused yet slightly concerned "best friend" Wilson.
Settling into the conference room for the second time that day, Cuddy waits as the department heads trickle in. Wilson arrives, dragging House behind him. House looks even paler than he did this morning, and Wilson has taken his cane. Normally, such a display would earn Wilson accusations of cruelty, but no one bats an eye at the pair’s antics. It’s just them.
Cuddy explains the fundraiser’s goals and expected conduct around guests and potential dono-
*Beep*
“Well, I hate to ditch such a fascinating meeting, but duty calls~” House says, clearly thrilled to have an excuse to leave. He grabs his cane and opens his bottle of Vicodin.
“Dr. House, you cannot-”
Cuddy sighs. “Just go, House.”
*Beep*
She deadpans, “What now?” trying not to glare at him.
“Oooh, goodie. We think it’s cancer.”
“House… that isn’t a good thing” Wilson interjects.
“Well, not for what’s-her-face, but it means you’re coming with me, Jimmy” he sings. Cuddy can tell he’s holding back a cough.
There’s a pause.
“Go. And you better sweet-talk your way to the donors, thou-” she starts, but doesn’t bother finishing. The duo is already gone.
The meeting goes more smoothly after that, and Cuddy can finally take her long-overdue lunch break. She heads to the cafeteria for a simple salad. something easy, before retreating to her office to eat in peace. That peace doesn’t last long.
The door flings open.
“I want to cut her open.”
Cuddy sighs. “And why do you want to do that?”
“I need a closer look at her stomach.”
“And by you. I assume you mean Chase?”
“Yeah. Me. So can I cut her open now?”
“I need proof that surgery is necessary. I can’t have you cutting people open for fun. That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
“What if I get her permission?”
“By all means, get her permission to be sliced open for no reason.”
That’s all House needs before disappearing back to his antics.
Somehow, in whatever immoral way he chose, House gets the patient’s consent. He briefly watches the surgery before vanishing. Now, Cuddy can’t find him. She stops by Wilson’s office.
“Hey, the fundraiser starts soon. If you see House, try taming him…or both of you are getting double clinic hours next week” she threatens, fully aware it won’t work. They’ll find a way to skip it.
The main lobby, once full of patients, now buzzes with important people in expensive suits and dresses. Cuddy does her best to speak with as many guests as possible, eager for that 8% boost.
“...we have some of the best, most well-trained doctors here, working 24/7” she says, sipping champagne as the other guests mingle and play cards. The poker table, where Wilson sat is playing quite well, talking away at guests with surprising skill that Cuddy is silently grateful for.
*Thud*
Cuddy turns at the commotion. Quickly followed by a concerned Wilson who clearly has a better view on what happened then she did. House is on the floor, unconscious. Wilson rushes to his side before Cuddy could even process what has happened before helping drag him to a nearby bed. His temperature is high - a fever, most likely. Cuddy ensures he’s stable before returning to the fundraiser, leaving him in Wilson’s care. She knew letting House work while sick was a mistake. But of course, he never cares about her concern.
House awakens not long after. After a short talk with Wilson he grabs his cane and rushes out. Wilson rolls his eyes mumbling something about giving House the wrong ideas but follows after him nonetheless.
“SHE HAS ACUTE CHOLECYSTITIS!” he shouts from the balcony above the lobby. His team hears and excuses themselves from their conversations each with their own annoyed or mildly impressed expression on their faces as they head for the elevator.
“Cut her gallbladder out-” House starts
Wilson stops him there. “They know the treatment. Your puzzle is solved. Let’s get you home, House” he says, holding out a hand. House takes it, and they head out.
Cuddy, once again, is left sweet-talking guests and answering countless questions about House and his methods. It’s not what she wanted, but they seem genuinely fascinated.
The rest of the night goes by relatively smoothly.
By 8 p.m, Cuddy does the calculations - and realizes she’s hit the 8% boost.
She’s ecstatic.
Already planning upgrades for the hospital.