Fandom: House MD
Spoilers: Season three through Words & Deeds.
Warnings: Let me count the ways. Alternate Reality, baby!fic, OFC and did I mention: CRACK!
The nanny’s name was Ruth. She claimed to be from Montclair, but her accent was pure Massapequa.
Cuddy had taken responsibility for the hiring after House sent the first three applicants running out the door with Wilson scrambling after to soothe egos and stave off lawsuits.
House accused Cuddy of giving Ruth the job simply to have a bigger pair of tits around. “What did you do,” he asked, “put up a flyer at Stevie Teezz?”
As nice as it was not to be the owner of the largest rack in the house, even while she was breast-feeding, she didn’t hire Ruth for her tits. It also wasn’t the references, recommendations, or the fact that Esther cooed and gurgled happily the first time Ruth held her. The decision was based on Ruth’s utter lack of trepidation about Cuddy’s living arrangements.
The minute House was free of legal obligations, he and Wilson had gone to the fertility clinic together to be tested. Cuddy happily gave them the afternoon off. She hadn’t been joking about House helping her find donors and she didn’t mean contributors to the hospital. House had shown up the next morning with a sly smile, a bouquet of flowers and a card on which he’d written ‘Motility trumps mobility.'
House’s notoriously limited attention span seemed to stayed engaged in the process until the pregnancy test came back positive, at which point he detached himself from the proceedings to the point of avoiding Cuddy more than usual. Cuddy didn’t mind. She was grateful for the chance at a child with House’s intelligence and eyes, but didn’t need his toxic presence, especially when Wilson was more than willing to pick up the slack.
Either to fill the vacuum, or to retaliate for House’s continued jibes about ‘failure to impregnate,’ he quickly moved from sweetly interested to passionately focused on the baby-to-be, which probably wouldn’t have pissed House off quite so much if he hadn’t grown equally attached to Cuddy herself.
She told herself that it was for the good of the baby. House might have provided the genes with the most determined delivery system, but it was Wilson who could give emotional nurturing and stability as long as he didn’t do anything stupid like offering to marry her.
It would be wrong to feel any smugness about the outcome. She couldn’t possibly have any desire to punish House for his years of using her guilt about the surgery by pulling Wilson away from him. Could she?
They weren’t sleeping together, not even when Wilson finally moved out of his hotel and into Cuddy’s spare room. House followed within a week, forcing Wilson to give up the guestroom for Cuddy’s living room couch. House claimed a sudden interest in the baby’s well-being, but Cuddy guessed he wanted to head off any possibility of Wilson being tempted by her maternal glow and second trimester breasts.
Being House, he would find it completely unbelievable that that two people could go Lamaze classes together, come home to one of Wilson’s nutritionally-balanced home-cooked dinners, then watch a few hours of mindless television, all without falling into an emotionally problematic sexual relationship. He was willing to abandon his own comfortable surroundings to make sure they didn’t.
Wilson’s move into Cuddy’s bed after the first cramping scare certainly didn’t lead to sex. He was a comforting bed partner, one hand protectively curled over her stomach. Later on, she would realize that any hope of House standing for that cozy situation must have been a hormone-induced delusion.
“Two doctors are better than one,” he announced, joining them the next night. There had been plenty of room for her and Wilson. Accommodating another body meant evicting several pillows and grew increasingly awkward as the pregnancy progressed. By that point she was too big and too exhausted to fight. She decided it was better to have House keeping an eye on all of them than using his caustic wit to spread the misery.
The contractions woke her out of a fitful doze at one in the morning. She wanted to deal with it on her own, but House’s habitual insomnia meant he was already up to follow her into the living room. For a few hours, Cuddy thought he was actually taking an interest in the baby, if not in her. He helped her time contractions through most of the night, even managing to make her laugh a few times, until Wilson showed up full of sleepy-eyed concern. At that point, House immediately receded into the background letting Wilson take over.
When the time game to go to the hospital, House did the driving while Wilson sat in the back seat holding Cuddy's hand and making soothing noises, but he steadfastly refused to step into the delivery room.
Sometime during the eighth hour of labor, Cuddy looked at James’s face, exhausted; yet exhilarated. Through her own pain and fatigue, the thought came through that Julie had been a fool to let him go. Before that idea could lead to another one, the next contraction started. Suddenly it was all she could do breathe into the pain and push instead of screaming her lungs out and demanding an epidural or she’d fire the entire staff.
Five months later, they were all still sharing a bed. No one was doing anything in it but sleeping and not much of that with Esther (named for Lisa’s great grandmother, no matter what House thought) sleeping in a crib at the foot of the bed and the delightfully nonjudgmental Ruth just down the hallway.
She should have asserted herself enough to throw one or both of them out of the bedroom, if not the actual house, but she wanted Wilson there, for the baby and, when she was being completely honest, for herself.
If House or Wilson were doing anything alone or together, she was unaware of it, but she had her suspicions it wasn't much, based on what she occasionally felt when Wilson’s body brushed too close to hers at night. For her own relief, there were long baths and a pulsing shower attachment.
Cuddy couldn’t resist calling the hospital for updates, including a daily check-in with Cameron, who reported that House was riding his staff harder and abusing clinic patients more than usual, if such a thing were possible. Wilson was supposedly back at work part-time but kept coming home to spend every spare moment with her and Esther, and as a result, Ruth. Cuddy had seen Wilson sneak peeks at the nanny’s bosom. She could hardly complain, having been guilty of the same thing herself.
She’d never have a chance at Wilson while House was guarding him like a surly Doberman. Ruth, with her laissez faire attitude toward who slept with who might prove an easier target. House remained ostentatiously uninterested in his own child, but was endlessly absorbed in the sex lives of his friends and co-workers. Cuddy had always thought that reflected on the lack of his own.
Frustration was the order of the day, and House was incapable of leaving those feelings buried for very long. His new favorite topic of bedtime conversation was wondering who would lay the ‘buxom wench’ as he insisted on calling her in a broad comedy British accent. Scoffing at their outraged denials with his usual dark view of human nature, he graciously offered to take himself out of the competition, which Cuddy knew reflected House’s image of himself as an ‘ugly old cripple’.
“You guys are disappointing me,” he grumbled one night. “I can’t believe neither one of you has pushed her up against a wall. I’d do it myself but you know how tricky those maneuvers are for me. Come on, Cuddy. Can’t you at least go for an accidental feel during one of those post-feeding handovers? Like this." He reached over Wilson, who was in his normal position between them, as if to demonstrate.
“HOUSE!” both Cuddy and Wilson said simultaneously.
“Fine. Be that way.” She could practically hear him pouting in the darkness. It would be so easy to give him an ultimatum. Be a real father to Esther, or leave, but there was still the possibility that he’d insist on Wilson going with him. She wasn’t ready for the inevitable showdown. Apparently neither was House, and Wilson had a veritable master’s degree in conflict avoidance.
“Tell you what,” he continued, amiably. I’ll pay whoever wins a hundred dollars.”
“House…that’s….you know…” Wilson had finally been moved to join the fray.
“No. It’s only prostitution if one of you pays her, which would also be cheating by the way.”
“House, please…Esther could wake up any time for her next feeding and I’d really like to get some sleep before then.”
“You two are starting to sound like a married couple. Five hundred and that’s my final offer.”
Cuddy waited for Wilson to keep arguing, but he must have been waiting for her.
“Then it’s done. If I were handicapping, I’d put my money on Wilson, just because of the track record, but now that I think about it…she’s got the short hair and all those earrings…Cuddy this could be your race to win.“
Esther was already starting to show signs of House’s willfulness and Cuddy knew that sometimes there was no point in arguing with either one of them.
Cuddy had never thought she could love anyone or anything as much as she loved Esther. On the other hand, she was spending more time on the phone with her secretary, with Cameron, with Brenda, with anyone who could remind her that there was another life waiting for her.
She tried to forget about Wilson’s hand on her hip and his occasional erection against her ass at night, but when she did, there was also Ruth with her blonde hair, cornflower blue eyes and those breasts, along with a bet that she’d never accepted, but couldn’t quite shake from her mind either.
After Esther’s afternoon feeding, she’d escaped to the bathroom for another long soak. There was a knock on the door. She made sure she was as decent as the hot water and bubble bath could provide. Wilson had called and said he was stuck in traffic, but on the way. If Wilson had been willing to give Julie a tenth of the attention he’d been giving to Cuddy and the baby, Wilson would still be married and there probably wouldn’t be an Esther at all.
It was Ruth, with a smile on her face and stains on the front of her green sundress.
“All quiet on the western front,” she announced, before sitting down on the stool next to the tub. Ruth had been a lit major and often peppered her Long-Guyland speech patterns with literary allusions. Cuddy thought that was good. Esther could imbibe some intellectual nuggets along with nursery rhymes and Teletubbies. Ruth looked especially ethereal through the steam coming off the hot water.
“Next month,” she said, as much to herself as to Ruth, referring to the fact that in less than three weeks, she was going back to work and leaving Esther alone with Ruth for eight hours a day. She’d promised herself things wouldn’t get back to where they’d been before, days that went on into the nights. Catnaps at her desk. At least she didn’t have to worry about House breaking into her house at night.
Ruth looked at her strangely when she laughed.
“Sorry,” she said. “If you knew what my life was like before…Anyway, I’ll try not to be a crazy lady calling you all the time, but I’m probably going to be pretty nuts anyway.”
“Moms are always totally insane the first few weeks back. Don’t worry about it.”
They chatted about milk expression and feeding schedules until she noticed dots of sweat breaking out on Ruth’s chin and a noticeable line of moisture between her breasts. Cuddy used her foot to add more hot water to the tub.
She leaned back, her hair spreading out into the water. She closed her eyes, forming a fantasy of Ruth bending over to feast on her lips while smooth, efficient hands moved to touch her under the bubbly surface. It couldn’t happen, no matter what insane delusions House had. She would never take advantage that way and neither would…
Wilson came in the door, still wearing his coat. He gave her a quick nod before focusing his attention on Ruth, now sweating profusely, her dress clinging. The straps came off her shoulders easily, followed by the top of the dress itself, exposing the pale flesh to Cuddy’s gaze. Wilson squeezed Ruth’s nipples, gently at first, then more firmly, until they hardened under his fingers. A soft moan was quickly silenced as he pulled her up into a forceful kiss.
Cuddy watched carefully for signs of protest or struggle, but there didn’t seem to be any reason to intervene. Ruth’s hands were grabbing at Wilson’s hair as fiercely as he was grasping her arms, pushing her back toward the vanity.
Through the steam, she could see Ruth bracing herself against the table, followed by Wilson’s pants dropping to his ankles. He bent at the knees to angle himself properly and pulled the girl towards him. Cuddy could practically feel Wilson entering her with one hard thrust. She heard a high-pitched gasp over the sound of running water.
Wilson’s coat kept her from seeing what was going on, but she could hear the moans and gasps, feel Wilson’s hands on her ass, see the ecstatic ‘I shouldn’t, but it feels so good’ expression, as her own hand moved between her legs.
Water sloshed over the sides of the tub, as she found herself breathing in time with Wilson’s grunts and Ruth’s moans, losing herself to everything but sounds and sensations. Steadying her feet against the smooth porcelain for the moment when it was somehow her hands on Ruth’s body, but also Wilson’s cock inside her, the vanity against her back, and the mirrors falling down and shattering as they all came together.
“Oh god,” she sighed, feeling light-headed and relaxed. She’d definitely miss her afternoon baths.
“Wow,” said a man’s voice, sounding both awed and ashamed.
Wilson stood in the doorway, staring. His face was as flushed and sweaty as Lisa remembered it the moment she started to fall in love with him. However, she doubted that he’d been using his free hand to surreptitiously rub an obvious bulge in his pants while he was helping her get through labor.
He looked as embarrassed as she felt, but he didn’t move and she didn’t break eye contact.
“Let me help you with that,” she offered, bringing a wet, slippery hand out of the water, “You want me to tell you what I was just thinking about…?”
“What are we going to do now?” she said, Wilson’s dick still in her hand and the bathwater rapidly cooling. He remained silent so long that Cuddy started to worry.
“Uh, yeah. I’m...that was…we should get you out of the tub before you turn in a prune.”
“I mean about this…About us…?”
She moved her hand to gesture between the two them.
“Is there an us?” he asked pointedly, while zipping up.
“Not while House is here,” she sighed, trying not to sound ungrateful to the man who was technically the father of her child.
Wilson helped her get out of the tub and dry off, even rubbing lotion onto her back and shoulders so sensuously she thought she might need to push him up against the vanity herself.
“How long was Ruth here?”
Wilson seemed perplexed.
“She was in with Esther when I got home…she did say I should come in here.”
Wilson’s sheepishness was endearing and somewhat surprising given his reputation. Maybe he wasn’t quite the tomcat of House’s imagination.
“Have you won House’s bet? Have you even tried?”
“Of course not. I don’t want to. I mean…she’s pretty, but…”
Now he looked embarrassed for not being a nanny-screwing bastard.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t either.” Wilson nodded, looking into her eyes for further explanation. “But House doesn’t need to know that”, Cuddy continued slowly, formulating the plan as she spoke. “You’ll coach Ruth on how to lie to House.” Great addition.
He shook his head in confusion, not as quick on the uptake as she would have expected from House’s long-time sparring partner. Maybe the blood hadn’t gone back to his brain yet. She put on her bathrobe, hoping he’d be able to think clearly when he wasn’t faced her naked body.
“Guess what? You’re about to win a bet with House. ”
She gave the news a chance to sink in and he seemed to understand the gist of what she had in mind. The smile that crossed his face was sly, adorable and suddenly lecherous.
“I’ll alert the media,” he announced, just before kissing her for the first time.
That night, she sat in the living room with Esther on her lap, thinking how well every thing had worked out.
The baby had known the roar of a motorcycle for nearly six months and would never be frightened when Daddy came back to visit.
House got to believe he was right, which made him happier than hookers and Vicodin combined. His prize was being able to vacate “the baby zone,” convinced that as long as Wilson and Cuddy were both screwing the nanny, they wouldn’t bother screwing each other.
Cuddy had her beautiful girl, a wonderful nanny, and only one doctor waiting in her bed. She hoped Wilson was as happy with the arrangement as she was.
And what nanny couldn’t use an extra five hundred dollars?