Well, this idea just decided to be in my head for several consecutive nights causing my sleep pattern to get way thrown off, so eventually I had to type it out. Pretty fluffy I would say. There's no deeper meaning or anything like I usually try to hint at. Just something that came into my head. I've recently become obsessed with House and huddy especially, so that's the main reason for this. Umm… nothing much else to note… Just tell me what you think for my first House fic!
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The large room was virtually emptied out except for a few stragglers making their way toward the exits. She sat at her table swirling the remaining contents of her drink, thinking absently, drifting in and out of focus. She felt like she should be there until everyone was gone, sort of like the host; it was for her hospital after all.
The night had started out good with lots of talk and laughing, but that had slowly decreased as time went on. Eventually there wasn't much left to talk about and the band stopped playing. It tends to go that way at charity events. As she looked around the room, seeing no one, her eyes fell on the stage near the front of the large room, in front of all the round tables and chairs. There was still various instruments and equipment left by the entertainment to be cleaned up later. She saw a couple of guitar cases, chairs, music stands, a drum set, amps, and various cables she supposed were used for the guitars. On the far side of the stage, there stood a grand piano. She smiled, remembering House pointedly correcting her when she had said it was a just a piano.
"That is a grand piano, much better than a regular piano. Don't dis the piano, Cuddles."
She would have thought it funnier at the time had she not been talking to a group of donors for the hospital. But of course, House had to come and intervene in her conversation. It was rather embarrassing to be called "Cuddles" in front of the people she wanted to be taken seriously by. Obviously, he knew that, and he took advantage of it, as usual.
She shook her head and her smile faded away. Now, everyone was gone, and she had no reason to still be there. She stood up, smoothed out her red dress, and grabbed her clutch. It was too bad; she bought this dress just for this event, and she didn't think anyone had noticed. Oh well, it wasn't like she was counting on it. She blew out the little candle in the center of the white tablecloth and turned to leave.
"Hey, Cuddy!"
She turned to the direction of the voice coming from the stage. With a strange mix of happiness and dread, she saw House standing on the stage with one hand in his pocket, the other twirling his cane. He was wearing a tux; the bowtie hanging undone around his neck. She guessed that he had been talking to the musicians or something.
"House, why are you still here?" she asked leaning on the back of her chair.
"Why are you still here?" he answered her question with a question. She hated it when he did that.
"I'm going home and you should too. It's almost ten."
She started to turn around again to leave. She didn't feel like getting into an argument with House, which was what their conversations usually turned into.
"Nope, you can't," he replied.
She stopped and turned around again, curls bouncing around her face. She wore a look that said: And what are you gonna do to stop me?
"I'm going home. I'm tired," she said flatly.
She didn't move, waiting to see what he had to say. He looked contemplatively back at her, as if wondering if he should continue. He suddenly stopped twirling the cane and put it back on the stage, causing a soft thump that echoed around the room.
"I need an audience," he said evenly.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"What?"
"Au-di-ence," he pronounced each syllable deliberately. He pointed with his cane to the piano on his right.
She was definitely surprised by his request; he could see it in her face. She couldn't remember the last time he asked her to listen to him play. She wondered, why now? There had been all this weird stuff going on between them lately…
When she didn't say anything, House prompted her, "Come on," he said and turned and limped over to the piano bench.
She inwardly shrugged. Why not?
She walked over to the side of the stage, her heals clacking as she went up the little flight of stairs and onto the platform. House was sitting down, putting his cane on the floor, on the left side of the bench, closest to her. She walked behind him and sat on the right side, holding her clutch in her lap.
He began to play; she didn't know what song, but it was nice. She alternated glances between his face and the piano. He always got this look on his face when he played, a look of concentration and maybe, just a little, contentment. It was no different from when she last saw it, a long time ago. Before long, she caught herself smiling. He leaned into the music and closed his eyes. Then, suddenly, the music stopped.
Her smile faded with the melody.
"Why are you stopping?" she asked.
He removed his hands from the keys, staring at the piano, lost in space. He was arguing with himself silently, thinking. He glanced up at Cuddy sitting next to him. She wore a look of disappointment; she wanted him to keep playing. He remembered that face. She always used to love it when he played, and then she'd get sad when he stopped. So he decided to go for it. With mild amusement and surprise, he realized he didn't want to see that look on her face.
Resting his hands back on the keys, he started to play again.
She felt happiness when he resumed the music. It was a beautiful song, sad, but hopeful at the same time. It reminded her of him. She looked at his face again and saw that look, but this time, something was different. There was another emotion, just barely readable on his features, that poked through the mask he always kept up. She didn't know what it was, but it was something.
Lisa Cuddy was good at reading people, but, in all the years she had known him, she had never been able to entirely figure out the mystery that was Greg House.
The song continued. She watched his fingers masterfully touch the keys, never missing a note. The music was lulling; she stared into space for a while. Then, he played the final notes, and it came to an end. He let the sound ring out, bringing a gentle silence behind. House took a deep breath, but otherwise didn't move.
"That was beautiful," she complimented quietly.
He just gave a quick nod, saying nothing, looking away. She sensed that he wanted to say something, but he remained silent.
"What is it?" she prompted gently.
He threw another quick glance at her and tilted his head back, as if there was something extremely interesting on the ceiling.
"I wrote that song in college," he said, lowering his gaze back to the ground. Cuddy silently wondered where this was going. "I had pissed you off, you got mad. And being even more of a spastic, evil woman than you are now, you started yelling at me." He quickly looked for the reaction on her face; all he got was a raised eyebrow and an amused expression. He continued. "You said I was heartless." The amused expression disappeared. "I started playing later, and I came up with this."
"To prove you weren't" she said, thinking out loud. She inwardly winced; now he was sure to give her some sarcastic retort.
"Maybe, maybe not," he replied instead. "I was just playing."
He didn't say anything more, looking thoughtfully at the piano. She didn't know what else to say. She was amazed he was telling her anything about this. To think that that disagreement had actually gotten to him, and that it bothered him so much that he still remembered after all this time.
House didn't tell anyone anything about himself, except Wilson, and even that was rare. She had been included his confidence once, but not anymore.
Until now, at least.
She even knew when he was talking about. They hadn't talked for weeks on end. Both of them were too stubborn to apologize. Whether that ability to get on each others nerves constantly was an indicator of something else neither of them dared to find out. They were always close friends, but nothing more.
She had always told herself not to consider it; any relationship between them was doomed to fail. But like an itch you can't scratch, it kept nagging at the back of her mind. She couldn't help but wonder…
But she had resolved to never truly find out. She wanted to keep whatever fragile friendship they had now intact.
Finally, she decided to just tell the truth.
"You're not heartless, House," she began, "You were never heartless. You're just… emotionally awkward."
Now she was the one receiving the amused look. She knew he harbored no feelings of resentment for her; he had just wanted to see what she'd say. And she nailed it. His expression made a smile touch her lips.
With much effort, she tore herself away from his blue eyes.
"Thanks for playing," she said as she got up, clutch in hand. He stayed where he was.
What he didn't tell her was that he had written that song for her. He had wanted to prove—just to her—that he wasn't heartless. He would probably never directly tell her that, but something told him she knew already.
When he didn't reply, she started for the opposite end of the stage, intending to go down the flight of stairs on the other side. Her heels tapped softly on the wooden floor whenever she took a step. She was wondering if he would say something; he always had to have the last word. It was only a matter of time.
She was right. House was House, and when it came to Cuddy, he always had something to say.
"Cuddy!" he called and looked over his shoulder.
She stopped almost all the way across the stage and turned halfway around to look at him.
"House."
He grinned slightly in a way that told her some obnoxious remark was coming.
"Your ass looks especially fantastic in that dress."
Cuddy considered rolling her eyes and walking away, but then she realized that House was giving her a compliment, albeit in his own way, but it was a compliment. She smirked, and for once, decided to go with the unconventional answer.
"That's why I bought it."
He narrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head to one side. This was not the Cuddy he was used to. This was the Cuddy he remembered, the one that he nearly—he didn't even dare think the L word. He smirked when he realized that some of that person was still there.
Cuddy caught his smirk, and once again turned and walked away. She smiled.
Someone had noticed after all.
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Yup, that's it. Kindly click on the review box and tell me what you think. I think House might be a tad OC, but not too much hopefully. The song I envisioned him playing was Hokage's funeral or Grief and Sorrow from Naruto. Weird I know but if you listen to it you can totally picture him playing it with Cuddy sitting next to him… Can't wait for the new episode on Monday, two weeks is way too long! Lol. Thanks for reading.