Title: Because He Is Different
Category: [H]ouse, M.D. — House/Cuddy, Huddy
A/N: I never write ficlets, because I can't stand reading really good ones and not having anymore story, but this wouldn't leave my head after watching the end of 7x14 (House's classic, "Hehe. My head's on your vagina" line).
He thinks she's a beautiful woman, and no one's ever thought of her that way before. She's been brilliant, yes, and plenty men have claimed that her mind turns them on, but it really doesn't matter. She doesn't want her mind to turn them on. When she is home, when she is at the supermarket, when she is at a bar—pretty much wherever she isn't at work—she wants to turn her mind off, while they drool and hump against her theories and calculations. Very sexy, they say.
She's been that, too. Once, long ago, when she had a rare moment or two of awkward rebellion, pretending that she didn't feel like a flashing, neon, Virgin Mobile sign as she strutted the streets in heels and 13.5 inches of nylon fabric. She's been sexy, and brilliant, and she thinks she remembers being cute in tenth grade. But she's never been beautiful. Homely, her father said she was. A plain face is more professional, he said, and taught her to be grateful for not having what she doesn't know she has.
But he thinks she is beautiful, and no matter how many times he says inappropriate things about her in front of waitresses and cab drivers, she will always feel the deep-seated warmth, low in her belly, that says she feels beautiful. His hand on her ass while they're in public is crude, but the warmth in his eyes, trained on her and only her, is enough to slow her hands as they pretend to swat his away. His stares are never leers to her, his comments never slime their way into her ears and make her feel self-conscious. He thinks she's beautiful, and that is enough.