Cuddy's Vacation

(Totally Pointless) Disclaimer: I do not own House.

Well, I'm on spring break and really really bored. So I decided to write something. And also to rant how much I HATE this two-week wait that they're subjecting us to AGAIN!!!

Ok. Rant over. On with the story. Enjoy!

Cuddy sighed, staring out at the miserable rain. She had a big pile of paperwork in front of her, like always, and she had absolutely no motivation for tackling it. Once I finish this pile, there'll always be more. What's the point? She felt stagnant, dull. To top it all off, she had a cold, which compounded her misery. She reached for a tissue, blew her nose in it, and dropped it in a wastepaper basket that was already full of used tissues.

"Argh," she groaned, putting her head down on the table.

"Morning, sunshine," a familiar, uncharacteristically cheery voice said.

Great. The cherry on top of her perfect day. "What do you want, House?" she snapped, raising her head.

"Need you to sign this," he said, putting a clipboard in front of her. His eyes narrowed. "You look hideous."

"Gee, thanks," she said tiredly. "What every girl wants to hear." She scrawled her signature on the bottom without even looking at it.

"You didn't read it," he said, looking at her suspiciously.

"I really don't have the strength to argue with you today, and I don't really care, either. So go ahead, do whatever you want and leave me alone."

"Thanks!" he said brightly as he turns to leave. "Hope you feel better soon."

She looked at him, slightly shocked. "What did you say?"

"I said I hope you feel better," he said in his most sincere voice. "That cold you have is making you wear turtlenecks and long pants. I need these low-cut tops and short skirts back soon or I don't know what I'd do."

She groaned. "How considerate. Thank you, House."

"No, thank you, Dr. Cuddy," he said as he went out the door. "For letting me disconnect the patient's central nervous system."

"What?" Cuddy shrieked. But he was already gone.

Oh well, she thought. He knows what he's doing. Hopefully. She put her head back down on the desk.

"Dr. Cuddy?"

"What?" She snapped, at the end of her rope.

"I'm really sorry, Dr. Cuddy," her assistant said timidly. "It's just…you have a board meeting in five minutes."

"Oh," Cuddy said, taken aback. "Alright, thank you."

--

After thirty minutes of meeting, during which Cuddy wanted to shoot herself in the head, it was finally, mercifully over.

"One last thing, Dr. Cuddy." The chairman of the board said, adjusting his glasses.

Cuddy was just getting ready to get up and dash to the cafeteria for a hot cup of tea. "Yes?" she said, plastering a smile on her face.

"Our records indicate that you have not taken a vacation for eighteen months. You are long overdue."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly—" Cuddy said, not even wanting to address the notion of her going on vacation when there was so much to do.

"Take a week or two off, Dr. Cuddy. Go somewhere sunny. The hospital will survive without you," the chairman said with a smile.

"I will think about it, thank you," Cuddy said. She had absolutely no plans of taking a leave.

--

"Go on vacation, Cuddy!" Wilson urged. "You need it."

"No I don't!" she said and then promptly had a coughing fit.

Wilson waited for her coughs to subside, and raised a wooly eyebrow. "I think that just answered for itself."

She took a long sip of her tea, feeling it warm her. "I have so much work…and besides, I can't face sitting on a plane for god-knows-how-many hours hacking away and infecting all the other passengers."

Wilson considered for a moment. "Why don't you stay at home for a week, then? You could do your work there, you'll be easily reached if anything happens, and you'll be comfortable."

Her first instinct was to say no. But then, remembering how little motivation she felt and how sick she was, she relented. "Well, alright. Maybe."

--

The next day, House planned to burst dramatically into Cuddy's office like usual. But when he got there, the doors were locked and the blinds were drawn. "Where's Cuddy?" he demanded her assistant.

"Dr. Cuddy is taking a leave, Dr. House," the assistant said. She was rather frightened of the scruffy, cane-wielding man.

"Yes!" House cheered. "Free of the wicked Witch-o-the-West! Goodbye, clinic duty!"

The assistant looked after him, perturbed, as he went away with a spring in his step.

--

"Ding-dong, the witch is dead," House sang as he burst into Wilson's office instead.

"She's not dead, House." Wilson said without looking up from his work.

"Uh, I beg to differ. Have you seen her?" House sat in the chair in front of Wilson's desk, and stretched his legs out. "Zombies looked more lively."

Wilson sighed and looked up. "Cuddy's recuperating at home, so you might want to be considerate for once in your life and not do something crazy to bother her."

"What would I do?" House asked innocently.

"Oh, I don't know, set the hospital on fire. Incur lawsuits. What you do on a daily basis."

House thought for a minute. "Who's taking her place? Cameron?" An evil smile began to appear on his features.

"No," Wilson said. "Dr. Richardson."

The smile instantly disappeared. House groaned. Richardson was a strict old fart with zero sense of humor. He also happened to be on the hospital board, and therefore had the authority to fire House if he went over the line. These people weren't stupid; they had effectively blocked anything House might have wanted to try.

"Aw, no fun for you?" Wilson mocked, reading House's mind.

"Oh, please, Jimmy boy." House said as he stood up. "Don't you know? It's a party wherever I go."

--

House, in fact, was lying when he made that last statement to Wilson, and only said it for effect. He had absolutely no clue what to do. He was royally bored. His team was out testing. Wilson was busy, and had made it clear that he did not want to be bothered today. Normally, House would have disregarded Richardson and went ahead with his pranks anyway; he was not the one for observing rules, threats or no threats. But even House thought it would be a little cruel to get Cuddy to bail his ass out when she was clearly sick and miserable. You know you only play pranks to get her attention, a voice said that sounded suspiciously like Wilson's.

House bounced his ball against his desk. He had a few ideas what was wrong with the patient, but he could not diagnose until he got the test results back. Richardson had his office somewhere else in the hospital and House had not seen him yet, so he figured that as long as he successfully avoided him, he could miss out on clinic duty.

Well, only one thing to do. The evil grin reappeared on House's face as he grabbed his cane. Time to pay Cuddy a little house visit. Pun 100% intended.