I really enjoyed writing this little fic, hopefully people will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I didn't intend to set it to a song and it isn't based around a song but I was inspired to write this when listening to 'Sundown' by Gordon Lightfoot (lyrics in unquoted italics) which always makes me think of a couple who are doing something a little forbidden and the guy is a bit broken – hence reminding me of House/Cuddy. This is set in Season six but ignoring the Lucas Arc. Oh and you don't have to, but if you listen to 'Sundown' whilst reading this you'll certainly feel the atmosphere which inspired this. Hope you like :).
I can see her lying back in her satin dress in a room where you do what you don't confess.
House gazed through the glass of Cuddy's office. It was 11:30pm during the night of the annual charity ball at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital and Cuddy was about to head home, leaving Wilson in charge of the rest of the evening which would inevitably consist of drunken doctors humiliating themselves on the dance floor whilst nurses and admin revelled in their ungraceful demeanour.
"What is she thinking leaving Mr 'I-discard-my-pants-when-I'm-inebriated' in charge of an alcohol fuelled evening at her Hospital?!" House mock-shouted across the table at Wilson.
"I'm laying off the vodkas tonight, things should be...fine." he whispered sheepishly, emphasising the 'fine'.
Cuddy had her fair share of these type of events during her time as hospital administrator and many more as a student at med school. With her responsibility of hosting the main event dealt with (whilst most of the guests were relatively sober) she decided to avoid the boozy havoc and get home to Rachel who was currently with a babysitter, most likely gargling and snoozing. The kid, she hoped, not the babysitter.
Cuddy was in no rush, Rachel would be asleep by now, but it felt good to have someone to go home to.
She hadn't noticed House who was still admiring her form from the other side of the glass. Her dress flowed over her body; pinching in at her waist and lifting her in all the right places, making looking beautiful seem so effortless. Red. His favourite colour on her.
'Maybe she's wearing a thong to match?'. He let his mind wonder...her skin looked as silky as her attire, shimmery even.
'She must use that body butter stuff...' he mused whilst mentally massaging it into her legs.
The legs. From top to bottom they looked luscious and the killer heels screamed hotness. They were on display this evening...along with the funbags.
He was so lost in his fantasies that he didn't even realise that she was storming towards the doors until she had flung them open.