"That play was great," said Wilson as he and Cuddy emerged from the theatre along with the throngs of other people pouring out.
"Yeah," said Cuddy. "Really creative." There was a long silence as they walked to the car, but when they were both safely inside, and buckling their seatbelts, Wilson turned to her.
"Do you...want to...come over? For a drink or something?" he asked tentatively. Cuddy opened her mouth to reply, but something in her eyes was less than sure.
"It's okay," said Wilson quickly. "It's getting late, and err..."
"No," said Cuddy. "I'd love to."
Wilson pursed his lips, hoping that he wasn't forcing her to go. "Umm, alright," he said, starting the ignition.
On the way home he started to weigh the pros and cons. On the one hand, he definitely thought Cuddy was attractive, maybe more than that. She had those piercing gray-blue eyes and dark hair. She was seductive, to say the least. But on the other hand, he felt like shrinking away because...well...she was his boss, and if something went wrong, it would be catastrophically uncomfortable if something went wrong in their relationship.
But it was too late to think more on the subject now. He had just pulled into his apartment complex and was parking. He found himself getting out, unlocking the front door and before he knew it, he was sitting on the couch with Cuddy, a beer in his hand, and one in hers.
"So, how have things been with you?" asked Wilson, observing that Cuddy was drinking a large amount of beer. She had downed almost half the bottle in the two minutes they had been sitting there.
"Great," she said. "I, uh...just broke up with someone."
"Oh no," said Wilson, trying to sound genuinely sorry.
"Yeah, well...he was a jerk," she said reassuringly. "Not much you can do about that."
"Yeah," said Wilson softly. Now it was his turn to take a large gulp. If it was really this hard, maybe it wasn't worth it...maybe it would always be this uncomfortable.
"Damn," muttered Cuddy, downing the rest of her bottle. "I just haven't been having a good few weeks, I guess..."
"How so?" asked Wilson, grabbing a few more bottles from the fridge and setting them down on the side table. He figured that he would need another one before long.
"Just crazy things at the hospital, with House, you know. And the breakup and I just haven't been able to get a good boyfriend in so long," she groaned, rubbing her temples and drinking a third of her second bottle.
"What's wrong with them?" asked Wilson. For some reason, things were starting to get less tense. His entire body, which had been tensed into a frozen position, were starting to loosen, and he felt strangely comfortable with Cuddy.
"I don't know, I guess..." she trailed off.
"Well, I haven't really had the best of luck either," said Wilson. "Four wives, you know?"
"Here's to crappy relationships," said Cuddy, raising her half-empty bottle.
"Cheers," said Wilson, leaning forward and clinking the bottles. They both took long drafts that seemed to last for an eternity, and when they were finished, Cuddy's bottle was gone, and Wilson only had a quarter left.
"I mean is it really so hard to find a guy who likes working? Or at least doesn't mind a girl who does?" she asked, and Wilson wasn't exactly sure if the question was directed at him.
"They're not all like that," said Wilson. "I'm sure you'll find a guy."
"Yeah, but...they all seem to get turned off by the fact that I'm too intense and that I'm always thinking about my job and about House and all that kind of stuff," Cuddy said. Her eyes began to water slightly. "Maybe House is right. All that stuff he jokes about...maybe it's all really true..."
"No! No it's not," said Wilson, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I know it's not."
"Please," she moaned. "I know it's true, now that I think about it. I mean this is the first outing with a guy I've had in..." she froze, realizing what she just said.
She looked up at him sheepishly, and their eyes locked. Wilson didn't know what to think. If he was ever going to do it, it was now or never. He started to lean in slowly.
"Umm, wait," said Cuddy. Wilson stopped. It was too soon and he had rushed things. Cuddy studied his face for a few seconds.
"Oh, what the hell," she said. She pulled Wilson closer by the front of his shirt and kissed him. Wilson felt all the desperation coursing through her. Her hands, which had been clamped on the front of his shirt, were now laid on his shoulders...then they were wrapped around his neck and in his hair.
Soon, they were on their feet, and Cuddy began to coax him backwards into a room, her lips still on his. She began to loosen his tie and pulled it over his head...her fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt. Wilson realized they were in his bedroom.
"You knew where my bedroom waS?" he asked.
"I figured it out," she breathed, pushing off his shirt. Wilson, trying to make it interesting, brought his lips down to her neck and kissed the warm skin there. He felt her shiver under his touch, as he kissed her shoulder, then her collarbone. He pused off the thin spaghetti-straps over her shoudlers and pushed off the dress into a pool at her feet with no trouble at all. Shoes were kicked across the room and belts were undone.
As they fell onto the bed, their interaction became a hazy blur of color and heat, flesh and hair.
As soon as the ordeal was over, Cuddy curled up next to Wilson, her head on his shoulder and her dark hair draped over his arm. The full moon outside beamed light through the drapes and spilled onto the floor. Her nails traced lines over Wilson's bare stomach and he shivered under her touch.
"Don't tell House," Wilson murmered.
"Never," she breathed, kissing his stomach before curling up and falling into a deep sleep. Of all the men she had slept with, even House, she had never felt so comfortable...so safe...in Wilson's arms.
