I've had this done for a while, but never posted it here. Must have forgot. Anyway, it's based on the song "This Bottle of Wine" by Maria Mena. I don't own the song nor House M.D. Enjoy!


Her heart stopped in her chest the moment she opened the front door. She was sure he stepped back because her face drained of color and he was afraid she might throw up on him. Of course she wouldn't. Yet. Maybe.

"You have to leave." She placed a hand on his chest and let it linger before she applied enough pressure to get him to move further away.

"I just got here." He was trying to determine what was actually going on. "Do you have a date?"

"No." She laughed and her face flushed.

That raised his suspicions as he tried to look past her. Her nose wrinkled and she shook her head.

"Really, no," she told him. "I... I've been drinking and-"

"Alone?" He was very suspicious.

She sighed and nodded. "Yes. Alone. Wine. Do you want... do you want to come in?"

She pulled back, pushing the door open and allowing him room to enter. Eyes still on her, he crossed the threshold. She shut the door behind him as he investigated the living room, which was empty.

A lonely bottle of wine sat on the coffee table. No glass. He looked back at Cuddy, surprised. She gave him a small smile and passed him as she entered the living room. She grabbed the wine bottle as she flopped down on the couch.

This was unusual for him. And unexpected. And he certainly didn't want to take advantage of her when she was clearly intoxicated. But, he entered the living room anyway and sat down on the couch next to her. After all, he was House and even he couldn't pass this opportunity up.

She was sitting closer than she would have been under normal circumstances. With an arm thrown over the back of the couch, she leaned into him. That made him grab the wine from her and take a swig. He figured it would help if he had some to drink as well.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you today." She looked at him sadly, but suddenly became cross. "However, you did go against everything I told you!" She softened. "Why do you do that, House?"

"Because I'm right and you're not." He took a long drink.

She moved away, appearing as if her senses hit her hard. "You should actually probably go."

He smirked and set the wine bottle on the coffee table. "Why? Afraid you might be tempted?"

"Yes," she answered honestly.

He was expecting her to deny him and was taken aback when she didn't. She stood from the couch and teetered slightly before moving halfway across the room. Her back remained to him.

Her mind was racing. She really couldn't have him here with her now. He was right. It was tempting. And it didn't help that she became particularly horny when she drank too much.

With a smile still on his face, he stood from the couch and crossed to her. He placed two firm hands on her arms. Her breathing increased. He leaned into her.

"Greg." She hardly ever used his name anymore. "You should probably leave before..."

"Leave?" The closeness of his voice gave her chills. "Do I need to remind you that you called me?"

She faced him, but didn't move back even though her chest was against his and her left hip was brushing against his side. She was dancing on dangerous territory. And he was loving it.

"I was hoping you'd ignore my phone call," she told him, her eyes on his. "You usually do."

"When you call about work."

He couldn't take much more this. She was against him. They were too close in a room that held so much space. It was burning him. So, he did what he knew she wanted him to and kissed her, forcing her mouth to be open and accepting as he slipped his tongue in.

She gave in to him for one longing moment before pulling away and turning from him. She moved across the room, as far away as possible.

"No, this always happens," she told him. She faced him and he was aware of the wanting in her. "We can't keep doing things this way."

"Lisa..." she melted when he said her name. He knew this.

"We're on two different planes." She was working her mind around this. It was always harder when she wasn't sober. "You're... there. I'm... over here. And we..."

"I may have to catch up, but we can change that." He referred to the physical distance as he crossed the room on his painful limp without his cane.

She couldn't move away fast enough, not that she particularly wanted to. His arms wrapped around her and his hands moved down her back, resting just above the waistline of her skirt.

Her hands went up to his neck, which was a stretch for her, especially since she was in her stockinged feet and no heels. Her fingers slid into his hair behind his ears as her thumbs rested in front of his ears, grazing across his stubble.

Their mouths were reunited again and although the main part of her brain was telling her to stop, the wine was seducing it into joining the dark side. Sometimes, it hurt too much to have him around and not kiss him. Tonight was no exception.

He was drawing her to the couch, moving slowly, methodically. She followed. She wanted him so bad. Her lonely nights were getting to her. She subdued them with wine, but even now... it had gotten too much. She was glad he was here.

He set her onto the couch first before lowering himself without doing too much damage to his thigh. He looked for where he placed his cane. In that moment, she was practically on top of him, bringing his mouth back to her.

She forced him down as she straddled herself on top of him. He felt a tingling. He liked this Cuddy. It totally beat hot pissed off Cuddy any day.

However, when she stopped suddenly and climbed off him, he was slightly cursing her. She was a siren, a she-devil. Heating him up, then dropping him cold. He sat up and stared as she padded across the room.

"I can't do it." She realized she had just left him there in such a state and it was rude. And mean.

"Can't do it?" He repeated, hoping he would cool down enough to stand. She made him weaker when she took control and now that she was gone, he had to gain it back. "Then, what the hell was that, Cuddy? Thirty seconds ago, I couldn't have kept you off me even if I tried."

"I know and I'm sorry!" She turned to him and he was surprised that she actually appeared upset. "I just feel... House. If you don't feel... I can't do this with you if you don't feel the same. It always hurts after and it shouldn't. I can't do this if... if you don't..."

"I feel the same!" He exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and ignoring the pain in his thigh.

She shook her head. "No. You don't. You didn't last time. Or the time before that. And then the time before that, we barely even-"

"Okay, I get it," he cut her off before letting out a sigh.

"It's not that I don't think we could ever..." she trailed off.

This was hard on her because she still wanted him severely. It would be easier to forget what was just said and take this into the bedroom. It would comfort her. At least for now. But, he would leave when they were through and she would sleep alone. Sometimes, she wondered if he did feel the same, but just had a different way of expressing it.

She moved towards him. "Maybe we could..."

Her hand clutched onto his arm and she brought herself up to kiss him. She had to pull his head towards her with her free hand, but it happened. Maybe she would just forget it. Again.

But, he pulled away, which surprised her. He never pulled away. Ever.

"Maybe you're right." He pursed his lips and backed away, scanning the room for his cane again.

He moved to collect his cane, which was resting next to the couch. She stood surprised. She took a step toward him, but was lost for words. Once his cane was in hand, he turned to her. She immediately went to him and placed her hands on his arms. He needed to stay. She needed him to.

"I was speaking nonsense." She offered a sad smile, which pained him. "We can go into the bedroom. I... I want to... if you want to, that is."

He shook his head slightly. Did she really want to please him this bad? It actually hurt a bit to think that she would deduce herself to hypocrite status just to keep him there. He was certain she was doing it more for him than herself.

He wasn't going to end this with a sweet gesture. He could never do that. Instead, he removed his arms from her and left. She peeked out into the hall and watched his back until it was cut off by the shutting front door.

With a sigh, she shuffled back into the living room. She flopped down on the couch and picked up the wine bottle. She cursed herself for seeming so desperate. God, she hated that in herself, which inevitably made her put the bottle to her lips and finish off the red wine.


Fin.