TITLE: Expectations
SPOILERS: "Act Your Age" (3x19), minor ones for "Airborne" & "Humpty Dumpty"

She watched him walk away, continued to stare when he had rounded the corner and was out of sight, her mind busy at work -- finding another confusing piece of the puzzle that was her best friend.

For years he had spoken in code. A snarky, sarcastic code, veiled criticisms and biting insults. Each insult, each crack about her panties or her chest, were all a mask for what he was feeling (whatever that was) underneath.

For years she had been trying to decipher the code. Watching for patterns, keeping a close eye on his body language... searching his eyes for the truth. His eyes were what gave him away most of the time. Especially when he ducked them from her view. Just like he'd done moments ago after asking her to go to a play with him.

She'd looked over at him in shock, trying to figure out what kind of game he was playing this time. She had taken too long to answer, so he'd ducked his gaze and muttered a very unconvincing "Just kidding" before he reached for his cane and headed back to his office.

Cuddy pushed herself away from the railing she'd been leaning on... started walking swiftly, heels clicking on tile. He was just where she expected he'd be... in his office with his feet up on his desk, playing with the toy ball that had taken up residence in there. She pushed open the glass door to his office and strode inside determinedly. "You don't have tickets to a play."

He slowly looked up at her... gave a pout, tilted his head slightly and told her, "Now that's just hurtful."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "House."

"Cuddy."

"I don't know what your problem is--"

"My problem? I'm not the one trolling the hospital for sperm."

Her jaw dropped indignantly. "You sent Wilson flowers!"

He shrugged and swung his legs off the desk... stood up. "Every now and then he likes to know that I care."

"You sent them from me. I never intended to send him flowers."

"Who knows? Maybe you did."

Her forehead wrinkled and she contemplated his sanity (no surprise there) while folding her arms across her chest. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Maybe you've got a subconscious desire to have little Wilson-and-Cuddy babies, and you're upset because I'm bringing that desire to the surface."

"You know, you have been a perfect ass ever since you found out about this--"

"I have been nothing more than a friend since I found out about this. I think I'm the one that deserves flowers." He leaned into her for a moment. "And by the way, I like begonias."

Cuddy didn't move when he leaned close. She bored her eyes into his, a twitch upturning the corners of her lips. Her fists rested on her hips and another piece of the puzzle fell into place. When he pulled back, confused by her lack of retort, she spoke. "That's the problem, isn't it?"

"What?"

"You've been 'nothing more than a friend.' That's the problem, isn't it House?"

He rolled his eyes melodramatically. "Oh God, you're going to start with that grade-school 'you like me' crap again, aren't you?"

She just smiled wanly. "Did you really get tickets to a play, House? Are you really inviting me out?"

He held her gaze for what might have been a split-second or several minutes... Cuddy wasn't sure, before he nodded and twitched a small smile. "Yeah. I think you'll really enjoy it."

She nodded slowly, smirking now. Maybe after everything, the stolen glances whenever a baby was seen or mentioned, after the plane ride from hell... maybe they were finally getting somewhere. Going somewhere. "What kind of play is it?"

House cocked his head, squinted his eyes slightly and said, "Well I guess it's not really a 'play,' more like... performance art. But it's beautifully acted."

Cuddy quirked an eyebrow, intrigued...

Cuddy fixed a glare on the man beside her while brushing popcorn out of her spiraled dark locks. "I cannot believe you tricked me into coming here."

But House wasn't paying attention. His eyes were too busy focused on the two men in spandex pretending to beat the hell out of each other just a couple dozen feet in front of them. Cheers and obnoxious yells were erupting from all around them, and popcorn flew. Cuddy was ready to throw her fifty-ounce soda at the man behind her kicking her chair.

"House!"

"Sshhh, this is my favorite part," he whispered, as if they were quietly watching an opera, and pointed to the ring where one of the large men (in purple spandex, how lovely) was getting body-slammed.

"I am going to kill you," she hissed, leaning toward his ear. "You said we were going to a play." She gestured to her attire, then -- a black cocktail dress and matching silk wrap, which was now littered with popcorn and reeking of cigar smoke.

"No, I said that we were going to a performance. Your over-romanticized female brain thought up the word 'play.' It probably thought up the words 'dinner' and 'dancing' too."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Did yours think up the words 'gunshot wound' and 'justifiable homicide'?"

House just smiled over at her. "I love it when you whisper sweet-nothings. But really honey, save it for the pillow-talk later."

Cuddy just huffed and continued picking popcorn out of her hair and clothes, trying to ignore how her heart skipped at the mention of pillow talk.

"Thank you."

House peered up at her, only his eyes -- not his head -- moving away from the menu he was buried in. "Don't thank me. I have yet to tell you that you're paying for dinner."

Cuddy tilted her head and smiled, swirling her wine glass gently on the tablecloth. She'd downed a couple glasses already just trying to get over the nearly-traumatic experience she'd had at the wrestling arena. And the alcohol combined with the candlelight, not to mention her best friend's blue eyes, were doing a number on her pulse. "I mean for getting me out of there."

"Well, I... I didn't think you were actually going to dress up. I guess maybe there's a slight chance I--"

"Felt bad?" Her brows raised hopefully.

"--didn't want that guy to spill beer on you," he finished. "I hear it's a bitch trying to get that out of chiffon."

Cuddy chuckled in spite of herself. She hated to admit it (and she would NEVER admit this to him), but... he was actually quite charming, in his own non-charming way. And she rather enjoyed the latent jealousy he displayed whenever she got remotely close to Wilson... as if they'd suddenly run off, get married and start having hundreds of kids. It made her wonder all the more if he felt something for her more than friendship... and more than an obvious attraction to her chest, legs, and ass.

"So why did you send Wilson flowers from me?" She watched as he gulped down the rest of his drink (a scotch, she thought, but with her couple glasses of wine it was suddenly a little difficult to remember) and shake his head roughly like a dog shakes off water.

He blinked bleary eyes rapidly and then he was back to his old self. "Because. I knew it would freak him out."

"Why did you want to freak him out?"

He looked up and met her eyes. Cuddy let her own implore him, cajole him. She silently begged him not to throw up a knee-jerk sarcastic comment. She pleaded for a real answer.

"Are you ready to order?"

Cuddy shut her eyes in agony. Waiters and their damn timing...

"Thank you."

"You said that before. I hate to tell you, but... you paid for dinner."

"Thank you for taking me out," she responded with a smile, keeping her eyes on the pavement as they walked side-by-side to her car. Their shoulders knocked together every few seconds and Cuddy tried to ignore the arrhythmia that resulted.

"Well, anything to keep you from humping Wilson's leg."

Cuddy gave him a look through her lashes, one that he looked down and caught... subsequently smirked at. She forgot every once in awhile that he was really quite handsome beneath the perpetual Grinch-like expression.

"You know... I'm not really interested in Wilson."

His eyebrows quirked for only a split-second before his expression went eerily neutral. "Just using him for his swimmers, eh?"

"It's not about that." Upon his look, she clarified. "Okay, so it's not about JUST that."

House ducked his gaze and Cuddy tried to recapture it...

"It's about..." After a moment of struggling and trying to find words when she felt his gaze singeing her, she looked up and sighed. "Don't you ever just feel lonely? Like really, deeply... lonely?"

House continued staring straight ahead, so Cuddy did the one thing that could always snag his attention -- she reached out and caught his arm. They stopped their slow walk to her car and just stood looking at each other.

His gaze ducked again and his voice came out uncharacteristically soft. "Sometimes."

It was so soft, Cuddy had to lean toward him to hear it. She leaned forward so far she nearly lost her balance, and took a step toward him to compensate. "Really?"

He raised his eyes to hers and she saw a familiar glint in them. "Yes. But that's where Nadia and Amber come in handy. They stay on the line as long as I need them so I don't feel the loneliness."

Cuddy sighed frustratedly, feeling her eyes narrow, and she shoved him away from her, not even caring when he stumbled a bit.

"Hey! Mind the cripple!" he shouted after her as she continued walking, right past her car and into the park across from the restaurant.

She knew he was walking after her, she could always feel him walking (hobbling, really) after her. She folded her arms across her chest tightly, pulled her wrap around herself to shield her bare arms from the chilly nighttime breeze... and shook her head in frustration. "I'm trying to have an honest talk with you and you crack jokes about phone sex lines, House. Real nice."

"Well, hey, you left that one wide open. What else was I supposed to do?"

She spun on her heel, throwing her hands up in an exaggerated shrug. "How about a sincere answer? How about not deflecting with a lame joke for once in your sorry life?"

"Alright, well now you're just lashing out. You know our therapist thinks we can resolve our issues better if you stop being so verbally abusive."

Cuddy didn't even encourage him with an angered retort. She just glared and spun away, still feeling him approach from behind. He was close enough she could feel his body heat, and then she heard his voice. Soft, apologetic, cajoling... dragging out the last syllable of her name like he did so long ago in her office when he told her she was good at what she did.

"Cuddyyy..."

Cuddy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He was good. Sometimes too good. He had to know what that sound did to her. Almost reluctantly, she turned to face him and he tilted his head.

"If you..." His gaze ducked again and she was well aware he was probably about to say something sincere. "If you need somebody to talk to, then..." He trailed off.

Cuddy smiled. It wasn't anything particularly eloquent, or romantic and poignant, but from him? It was enough. She gave a slow blink of gratitude. "Thanks."

The moment was getting particularly heavy, and the air -- though still chilly -- was charged with a very familiar electricity. Cuddy rubbed up and down on her arms, shivering, though whether it was from the cold or her desire's proximity, she wasn't certain. They didn't speak for several moments. It had almost gotten awkward when Cuddy felt something land on her shoulders and she jumped in response.

She looked up to see House half-smiling, and suddenly she was much warmer. He had draped his jacket across her shoulders. Cuddy again smiled her gratitude and tugged on the lapels, pulling it more firmly around her. No sooner had she pulled it completely around her when she felt it being removed from her shoulders. She arched an eyebrow at her counterpart, who shrugged in response.

"What? I'm cold." He shot her a look. "You didn't think I was going to let you keep this, did you?"

She tilted her head and smirked, chuckling a bit to ease some of the tension she felt winding her tight as a cord. They resumed their walk, now meandering down a path in the park, and Cuddy watched the pavement... thoughtful. "House, I told you about a month ago that I'd be here if you needed me."

"Yeah. And then you let me grab your ass, I remember. Vividly. I did call the Make-A-Wish Foundation, by the way. They weren't very accommodating."

She rolled her eyes. "As I was saying..." She gave him a look before continuing, smirking when he did. "What if... things got to be the other way around, and I needed you?"

"Are you insinuating you'd like to get a handful of my tushie, Dr. Cuddy?"

She stopped in front of him, once more giving him another of her patented looks through her lashes while a smirk curled her lips. "I'm saying I need a damn hug, so get your ass over here."

The smile he tossed at her was heart-fluttering, and she was beyond glad his arms were around her to prevent any knee-buckling in the wake of that smile.

Cuddy couldn't help but smile back -- this time, there was no ass-grabbing, no jokes cracked. His arms were grounding her, giving her strength, reassuring her that she wasn't ever completely alone.

"Come home with me tonight, House."

He pulled back abruptly, eyes wide. "Seriously?"

"No."

FIN