Greg sighed, standing on the edge of the dance floor.
Mary and Sammy had both asked him out, but he had no interest in them. Not that they weren't pretty, but he just didn't like talking to them. They irritated him.
Her, on the other hand.
She was still an undergrad, which meant he didn't see her very much, she wasn't in any of his classes, but when he did....
She was dancing with J-something, two years younger than himself.
J-something was nearly tripping over his feet, eyes fixed downward but not far enough to see what he was doing.
She seemed only mildly annoyed by the direction of his gaze, and simply used him as an excuse to dance without being held back—she ended up just dancing away from him, bored.
Greg bit his lip, realizing she was coming towards him, and ducked behind a pillar.
He loved to dance. He loved watching her dance. He wished he could do both at the same time, preferably from close-up, but he was too awkward to go out onto the dance floor, especially by himself.
Ten years later....
Dr. House sighed, standing on the edge of the dance floor.
Stacy didn't like dancing. He loved dancing. He wished she wanted to dance. But she didn't.
And 'she' was out there again, spinning and laughing and teasing her current date, G-something.
G-something was a horrible dancer. She didn't seem to mind, just danced around him.
Stacy came up behind his elbow, touching him on the arm.
"If you really want, we can dance for a little while...." Stacy said, looking slightly worried that he was just staring out at the dance floor.
She left G-something, apparently bored, and headed towards him, looking like she was going to say hello.
He looked at Stacy.
"No, that's ok. Let's just go."
Stacy nodded, following him out.
Twelve years after that....
House sighed, standing on the edge of the dance floor.
There she was, dancing again.
Dancing and dancing and dancing circles around her date, M-something.
She was beautiful.
He should have asked her to dance twenty-two years ago when she got bored with her date. Now it was way too late, there was no way he could keep up with her with his bad leg.
He also couldn't ask her because he couldn't bring himself to do it, but that was a separate issue.
"Hey," said Wilson, coming up behind him, "watching Cuddy?"
House glanced at him, then sighed and nodded.
Wilson looked at him.
"So ask her to dance. She doesn't even like that guy, just go do it. We both know you want to."
House glared at him, lifting his cane.
Wilson looked at it, then at his face, then at Cuddy and her dance partner.
"Yeah. Not falling over would be an improvement over her current partner. Just go ask her."
House turned to leave.
"House!"
He tried to limp quickly away, but Wilson gripped his wrist, glaring pointedly at him.
House turned around, grimacing, as Cuddy reached them.
She grinned, looking between the two.
"Having fun?"
"No." said House, jerking his hand out of Wilson's grip and limping away.
Cuddy watched him go, blinking, then looked at Wilson.
"What's his problem?"
Wilson sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck.
"He misses dancing, I think."
Cuddy blinked, then shook her head.
"No he doesn't. He never danced, not even in college. Just stood on the edge and watched. I doubt he even likes dancing, I know he got asked and didn't dance with people, all the time."
Wilson looked at her.
Then at the door House had gone through.
Then at Cuddy.
"Ask him to dance."
She blinked at him.
"He can't dance, even if he wanted to, which I doubt he does."
Wilson shook his head, "he can, at least for a little while. I've seen him do it."
Cuddy frowned.
"Why?" she asked, suspiciously, "you got money on it?"
Wilson laughed, shaking his head.
"No. No, I just want to see what'll happen. It might be interesting."
Cuddy's ears practically perked at that, and she headed out the door.
"House."
He didn't stop.
"House, come back here, I need to talk to you."
He stopped, waiting for her to catch up but not actively coming towards her.
She reached him, and sighed.
"Would... would you like to dance?"
He stared at her.
"I can't."
"Wilson says you can."
House swallowed.
"Why are you asking me?"
She shrugged, "my date's a total bore."
He looked past her for a long moment.
Then back at her, meeting her eyes.
"Why."
She blinked. Then she understood—he couldn't tell what this meant.
"It's just a dance, House. It doesn't *mean* anything, it's just me asking a guy I know to dance because I'm bored with my date and it's no fun dancing by yourself."
He swallowed again.
Then he nodded.
Cuddy smiled, and they headed back towards the dance.
House stood there, practically vibrating with nervous energy.
Wilson, watching from a few yards away, sighed, shaking his head.
He wished House weren't so scared of getting close to someone. He and Cuddy got along well enough that they could be at least good friends, if not more, if only House would just *let* it happen.
He smiled, as Cuddy grabbed House's hands, dragging onto the dance floor, being just careful enough to make sure he didn't have to put too much weight on his bad leg to keep up with her.
It was a fast song, but since House wasn't *doing* anything on his own, Cuddy put his hand on her waist, like it was a ballroom dance.
He blushed.
Cuddy laughed.
"Come on. Wilson said you like dancing, so dance."
House swallowed. Then he tentatively took a step. Cuddy followed him. Before they knew it, they were dancing.
And Cuddy was blinking because, despite the limp, House was good.
For about the last twenty years, all her dates had turned out be horrible dancers.
But this... this was fun.
This was nice.
Then she made the mistake of looking up at House's face.
He was blushing, eyes fixed on her face.
She swallowed.
So did he.
This had been a mistake.
Something was going on, she didn't understand it.
The random fast song ended, and a slow one started.
Twenty seconds of it was spent standing there, awkwardly staring at each other, having realized exactly *what* it was that was going on.
Then House took a step.
Cuddy followed him.
He took another step.
Cuddy took it with him.
And they were dancing.
And blushing.
And half the people had stopped dancing because this dance was taking place in the cafeteria of the hospital and most of the people there were hospital employees, and Dr. House and Dr. Cuddy were dancing.
And *blushing*.
Cuddy swallowed, looking away.
Then she stopped moving, as she felt a tug on her arm.
House had stopped, grimacing.
He opened his mouth, but Cuddy shook her head, understanding.
Wilson, only a few feet away, groaned.
So darn close....
Cuddy followed House over to the chairs, sitting down next to him.
Huh. Maybe it wasn't over after all.
Cuddy looked at House, sitting rigidly in the chair, completely awkward and nervous.
She sighed, shaking her head.
She liked being kissed first. But there was no way House was ever going to muster up the nerve to do that, and she knew full well he wasn't just some shy sap that didn't know the meaning of the word masculine.
So she leaned in.
And he stared down at her, shaking, eyes wide.
And she kissed him.
And he passed out.
She stared at him for a moment.
Then she smiled a little, shaking her head.
Then she gently touched the side of his face, still smiling, as she held him in the chair with the other arm.
Then she looked up, searching for Wilson in the crowd, because she couldn't get House onto the floor by herself without hurting either him or herself.
Wilson nodded, coming forward, and together the laid their unconscious friend out on the tiled floor, and Wilson handed Cuddy a cup of water.
She sprinkled it on House's face, and he grunted, moving his head.
"House. Wake up. Hey, House, wake up." said Cuddy, gently slapping his cheek.
He groaned again.
Cuddy looked at Wilson, frowning.
He shook his head, laughter in his eyes.
Cuddy slapped House again, and he opened his eyes, looking blearily up at her.
"What happened?" he asked, slowly sitting up, "leg spasm or something?"
Cuddy shook her head.
"She kissed you." said Wilson, flatly.
House stared at him.
Then he looked at Cuddy.
Then at Wilson.
Then at Cuddy.
Then he swallowed.
"Oh."