Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am not trying to make any money so please don't sue me.
Note: It's probably out of character, but it's my first fic ever so reviews are much appriciated. Any advice is welcome.
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"Thirteen, go get Cuddy's approval for the brain biopsy."
The brown-haired doctor smiled resentfully back at him.
"Sorry, promised I'd meet Foreman on time today for the clinical trial." She rolled her eyes as she said it, then headed for the door before he could pelt her with insults and sarcastic comments. He sighed in exasperation, limping toward the door.
The sunlight being reflected off the sparkling snow shone beautifully through the open blinds in Lisa Cuddy's office. The day was only just beginning, but Cuddy was already exhausted. After having been up all night with mountains of paperwork, she nestled down on the couch and shut her eyes, just to rest, only for a minute, not yet ready to face the day and the sure annoyances, disappointments, and perhaps lawsuits that would come with it.
Before she knew it, she had surrendered herself to a deep and peaceful sleep, not even awaking when her most troublesome employee came nonchalantly strolling through the doors to her office, cane in one hand and patient file in the other.
House had planned on simply sauntering over to her desk and tossing the file atop whatever work she was already doing, thus demanding her immediate attention, and pressuring her until she granted him permission to do his biopsy. He stopped when he saw her and simply stood, staring down at her tired figure lying on the couch. He hadn't counted on this. He was about to toss the file onto her, abruptly waking her from her slumber, when something stopped him. He lowered the file to his side, still looking down at the peaceful woman before him, rolling his eyes in exasperation as random emotions fluttered about inside him.
Wow, she's beautiful.
Whoa! Where did that thought come from? He closed his eyes, shaking his head to clear it, angry with himself for letting that thought slip to the front of his brain. She was merely a colleague. Someone to argue with, someone to berate to relieve his stress on a bad day.
But when he opened his eyes, he couldn't help but look at her again, admiring her splendor. His blue eyes scanned her figure, watching the way the sun caught her dark curls and made them shine, the way her thin legs rested daintily upon each other, her feet hanging off the edge of the couch. He watched her steady breathing, half wanting her to wake up and catch him watching her sleep. Again he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. What was wrong with him? Why was he so muddled and confused? Impulsively, he threw the file down toward her for the sole purpose of rudely awakening her. Then he realized why she was so exhausted, as his mind flashed back to the previous night.
()()()()()()()()
Cuddy had sat, slouched in her desk chair, leaning over a mountain of paperwork. It was dark, the only light in the room coming from her desk lamp shining down on her. She grimaced, massaging her head with her hands, trying in vain to dismiss her painful and irritating headache that had been trailing her like a shadow for most of the day.
It had been a long day, and a long night was sure to follow. She was just sliding her fingers under the flap of a suspicious manila envelope and retrieving the contents when everybody's favorite diagnostician came carelessly limping through the glass doors of her office, without knocking, of course.
She looked up at him expectantly as he plopped himself down in a chair facing her, absently fiddling with his cane. Her eyes scanning the contents of the envelope, Cuddy's breath left her. She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to remain calm, finding it difficult. She got to her feet and stood glaring into his husky blue eyes. She felt her heart leap in her chest like it always did when he was around, and she fought to maintain her composure, which proved difficult considering how tired she was and the news she had just received.
"House. Get out," she ordered as calmly as she could. He just sat there, looking up at her face and examining it for some sort of tell.
"House," she said more aggressive than before, "Get out!" She raised her voice, almost shouting the last part.
"But I'm so bored!" he whined as innocently as he could, doing his best to hold back a smirk. He could tell that she was trying to hold back her building anger, and he got so much joy from being the one to push her over the edge. He loved it when they argued, probably because he loved to see her angry. The way all her muscles tensed up, the way she clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides, trying to control herself, trying to be professional. The way she stood tall and unflinching, completely focused and ever so confident. He would never admit it, but he found it so beautiful and sexy, which was why he had the art of pushing her buttons down to a science.
"House," she said through clenched teeth.
"Yes, mother?" he asked, looking up at her and blinking innocently.
Cuddy planted her hands firmly on her desk and leaned towards him.
"We are being sued because of you. Again. And now I'll be stuck here all night doing paperwork instead of sleeping, so get your ass out of my office!"
()()()()()()()()
He remembered responding with a sarcastic comment before limping out the door as his mind returned to the present. All this rushed through his mind in less than a second, and he quickly extended his hand and snatched back the file seconds before it landed on her. He pushed back an unwelcome twinge of guilt, glancing over to there a smaller but still plenty foreboding pile of paperwork lay on her desk.
Glancing back at her and noticing just how exhausted she was, how all her energy seemed to have been drained, he felt overcome by the urge to reach out and stroke her hair. He knew he had to get out of here before he did something stupid, but his feet seemed rooted to the ground.
His trained eyes picked up the small shivers that racked her body as she slept and he looked around the room, searching for a blanket to put over her, finding none.
Cuddy was the type of person that always seemed to be cold. He could be fine somewhere wearing a t-shirt, and she would be wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a sweatshirt and still be shivering.
While House stood there, debating on whether or not to throw his jacked over her, Cuddy's eyes slowly fluttered open and she lifted her head slightly to look at him. He sensed the uneasiness in her, angry with herself for letting him see her like this.
Damnit! He thought, cursing himself for not leaving while he had the chance. His gaze softened as he looked into her tired eyes.
"And you complain about me not doing my job," he said. Cuddy's smile at his words was so small that you wouldn't find it if you weren't looking for it, but her eyes sparkled, giving her away. Sure, it was one of his usual snide comments, but there was something about the way he said it. It wasn't meant to be rude, it was meant to cheer her up. And he was smiling, a real smile, not a smirk.
"What do you want, House?" she asked, all business again. But House didn't answer, absently looking down at his shoes, patient file and brain biopsy forgotten.
He didn't know why he did it, but he did, without thinking, without pausing for even a second to consider the consequences of his actions. He extended his hand out toward her, his fingertips lightly grazing her cheek. She shuddered under his delicate touch and he expected her to pull away, angrily asking him what the hell he was doing. But she didn't, and he moved his hand to her hair, gently stroking her beautiful curls and playfully twirling a strand around his index finger.
Cuddy couldn't suppress her grin, but no sooner had it appeared on her face than her eyes clouded again.
"House…" her voice came out in a barely audible whisper. "Why are you doing this?" He looked into her sparkling blue eyes, lost in thought, and finally uttered,
"I don't know." And with that, he abruptly wheeled around and limped toward her office doors as fast as his bum leg would let him.
He stopped when he got there, his hand hovering inches above the knob. He squeezed his eyes shut, balancing on the line of indecision. Finally, he dropped his hand to his side and turned back around to face Cuddy, his husky blue eyes filled with sincerity. He swallowed, then breathed,
"I did it because I love you, Lisa." And all at once, he knew it was true. His voice was so soft, one would have to strain to hear it at a few feet's distance, and he knew that it would be nearly impossible for her to hear him from the across the room. That was why he had chosen to make his confession in such a quiet voice, in case he regretted the words as soon as they left him.
"What?" she asked him, looking confused. Instantly he shook his head, muttering,
"Never mind," and quickly left her office, leaving her lying on the couch, tired and confused.
She watched him go, and when he was out of sight, whispered, "I love you too, Gregory House."