This is a prompt I gave another writer, but I took it back because it just seemed like fun. It takes place in S6, during episode Private Lives. It's a take on how things could have gone had Cuddy reacted…
Sydney picked curtain number 1, so this is for you! Thanks for being interested.
Disclaimer: I don't own House. *Cries*
Private Desires
"We know she has the cell atypia that indicates lymphoma. Biopsy her liver," House told his team. When they'd left the room he looked down at Cuddy who was still staring at the computer screen. He leaned even closer toward her as he teased: "That was pretty cool what I did, right? You wanna make out?"
"God yes," Cuddy said on a sigh, closing her eyes as she thought of the prospect.
House froze and looked down at her. Did she just say?...
Cuddy jerked upright, turning swiftly to look at him with eyes wide and panicked.
It was hard to say who was more shell shocked.
"Dr. Cuddy?" her assistant said from the door. "Your next appointment is waiting."
"Oh yes," Cuddy said as she stood, her movements nervous and jerky. "Please send him in."
House didn't move. He continued to watch her as she stacked papers and pushed things around on her already neat and organized desk. He hadn't seen her this nervous since the last hospital inspection.
"Dr. Cuddy," a chubby, balding man who should have reconsidered the hair plugs barreled joyfully into the room. "It's so good to see you."
"Mr. Leary," Cuddy smiled as she came around the desk to greet him. "It's been a long time."
House continued to watch her. She wouldn't look at him. He could see in her posture and the way she held her head she was determined to ignore his presence. He guessed she was even more determined to ignore her little slip. And it had been a slip. He'd seen the horror wash over her when she realized she'd said it aloud.
His eyes moved over her, lingering on the shape of her legs and the curve of her ass as she spoke with the munchkin. She emanated amiable professionalism and an innate sensuality that both reinforced and diminished the immutable power that lurked beneath the surface of her disciplined stance. No one would know she was currently a conduit for unmet passion and desires too long denied. No one but him.
House stepped from behind the desk and noted the slight stiffening in her spine as he moved closer. A sudden burst of hope shot through him as he recognized that sign of awareness and tension. It seems she hadn't become as immune to him as she'd led him to believe. He fought a grin as he came to stand beside her, close enough for his arms to graze the side of her breast as he extended a hand out to her guest.
"I'm Dr. House," he said as he shook the man's hand. "I apologize for making Dr. Cuddy late for your meeting. I've just got something I want her on top of."
Mr. Leary chuckled jovially; Cuddy glared at House, her jaw jutting slightly to the left.
"Oh, it's no problem at all," the man said. "She's the Dean of Medicine. I can only imagine how demanding that position can be."
"You are so right," House agreed with an exuberance that put Cuddy on guard. "Some positions are very demanding, but it's worth it when you can wrap your arms around it and ride out…Ouch!"
House felt her heel digging into his toe.
"Are you okay? Is it your leg?" Cuddy feigned concern then turned to Mr. Leary with an explanation. "Dr. House has a leg injury. We really should let him go back to his office and prop it up for a bit."
"Oh my, yes!" Mr. Leary agreed, but looked back and forth between the two of them curiously.
"I just get stiff now and then," House explained, staring at Cuddy as she gently pushed him toward the door.
"You should try ice," she said through clenched teeth.
"I'd rather melt yours."
Cuddy closed her eyes to block out the flirtatious grin that accompanied that comment.
"Go," she almost pleaded.
"Anytime," he said. She looked up at him, trying hard not to drown in his treacherously beautiful blue eyes. "Any Time."
She knew he was answering her slip. He was also ensuring she wouldn't be unable to think of much else but making out with him now. Damn him!
House grinned. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Leary," he called out over her shoulder before turning to leave.
"You too, Dr. House," her guest answered as she turned back to him, trying to return her focus to the meeting at hand.
"I've heard so much about him," Mr. Leary said. "He seems like a nice enough man. I have a feeling there's much more to him than his reputation suggests."
"He is a complex man," Cuddy agreed. "Shall we get started?"
#####
It wasn't so hopeless after all.
House was sitting on his Eames chair, feet propped on the ottoman as he rolled the red and grey ball between his fingers. His team thought he was thinking through the case; he was actually working through an even bigger puzzle. Cuddy.
Maybe he'd given up too easy. In retrospect, he could admit he hadn't really tried, not to the extent he would have in the past, not to the extent he wanted. He'd been so uncertain at the time, uncertain of his own mental health, of his ability to change, of her feelings for him. And so, after he'd tried and failed to break them up, he'd left Lucas and Cuddy alone, deciding to prove he was the new and improved House, that he could be the better person, the better man. In many ways he had proven that, not only by remaining drug free, but in the little moves he'd made to put others before himself, in the way he'd chosen to care for and support Cuddy from the shadows. Unfortunately, Wilson and Nolan were the only people who really seemed to see the changes he was making. At least he'd thought that. Now he wondered if Cuddy noticed more than she was letting on. If that brief moment in her office had revealed anything, it was that she felt more than she was letting on.
She wasn't as unaffected by him as she'd been leading him to believe since he'd returned from Mayfield. There was still something burning between them, she was just determined to keep her distance and not stoke the fire. She'd been doing that for months, and he'd respected that decision. Hell, he'd respected her determination to pursue a relationship she believed would be better for her and Rachel, even though it hurt him, even though he knew it would hurt her in the long run. She was settling. She was trying to be "normal" and it was slowly sucking all the life out of her.
He could revive her. He could stoke that fire and bring her back to life. House had a feeling he had a small window of opportunity to break through her armor, to remind her of what they could be together. He could make her want him again. He knew it as clearly as he knew his patient had Whipple's Disease.
Damn! His patient had Whipple's Disease. He sent a text to Foreman, unwilling to be distracted by this sudden epiphany. Let the team run the tests. He needed to plan his attack. He couldn't blow it this time. He needed to be brave and bold, not hiding behind sarcasm and games. And he couldn't panic this time if she responded. The boob grab had been the beginning of her pulling away from him. He still couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. Who was he kidding? He could believe it. Everything he'd done after they'd kissed had been one big clusterfuck after another. This time had to be different.
"You missed lunch," Wilson said from his office door.
House gave him a distant look.
"Everything okay?" he asked, realizing House was deep in thought, probably doing his thing to diagnose his patient.
"What's going on with Cuddy and Lucas?"
Wilson frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Something's going on, or not going on between them."
"House, don't go there," he cautioned. "You've been doing good; you can't…"
"You have your bonding lunches every week," he said. "What does she say about him?"
"Nothing."
"Oh come on," House said. "I know she talks to you."
Wilson sighed, understanding House a picked up a bone and wasn't going to let it go. "What happened?
House moved his legs off the ottoman and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "I need to know what's going on with Lucas."
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" he barked. "You mean she never mentions him? In all these months, she doesn't tell her girlfriend a thing about the guy she's sleeping with."
"No. Yes. No," Wilson sputtered.
"You've developed a speech impediment since this morning."
Wilson scowled. "She hardly talks about him at all."
"Seriously?" House was surprised.
"Yeah," Wilson confirmed. "I think she's just trying to be sensitive. I mean, you are my best friend and she knows how I feel about…"
"Cuddy's not sensitive," House dismissed the idea. "She told you he was good with Rachel, that he was the guy who could be there for her and that they were looking at moving into the loft. What else has she said? When does she talk about him?"
"You're looking for a pattern?" Wilson asked in frustration. "It's not like I keep notes. I don't really want to hear about him."
"You're a busybody and a gossip," House said. "You don't have to take notes. You'd memorize the good stuff."
"Then I guess there hasn't been any good stuff."
House frowned, his eyes shifting back and forth as if he was sorting data in his mind.
"Look, you don't need to get sucked back into an obsession with Cuddy," Wilson said. "You need to stay on track. Focus on yourself."
"What do you talk about?"
Wilson sighed in frustration. "Work, Rachel, her new yoga program, the usual stuff, what is going on, House?"
"The usual stuff," he repeated, sitting up straighter and searching Wilson's expression. "By usual, do you mean me?"
"House, you can't do this," he said. "You've been…"
"How often does she talk about me?"
"Whatever you're up to, I'm not going to be a part of it."
House stared at Wilson, his eyes lightening in understanding. "What does she say about me?"
"You said you were going to move on," Wilson reminded him. "When you couldn't break them up, you said you were going to let it go."
"That was before," House said as he stood and took his cane. He needed to put a plan in motion now. There was no time to waste.
"Before what?" Wilson asked.
Before he found out she still had feelings for him, before she'd dropped her shield for a second and everything had changed. House grabbed his bag and headed for the elevator.
"House!" Wilson called.
House ignored him. Tonight he was either going to start a future with Cuddy or lose her forever.
####
Cuddy quietly closed the door to Rachel's room, relieved she was finally asleep. It had been a long day and she needed some down time. She needed to unwind. In fact, she was going to forfeit the hot tea tonight and have a glass of wine instead. Perhaps the Sauvignon she'd bought at the…
She bit back a scream as she jumped, startled to find someone sitting at her dining room table.
"House!" she hissed. "You scared the shit out of me."
"Need a shower?" he asked with that rogue grin of his that always made her stomach do flips. "I'd be happy to help clean you up."
She rolled her eyes, ignoring what the image of him bathing her was doing to her.
"I should call the police and report you for breaking and entering," she said as she walked passed him into the kitchen.
"It technically wasn't breaking since I used your key."
He followed her into the kitchen.
"How'd you even find it? I moved it from under the pot."
"It didn't take much deductive reasoning to realize it was in the ONE sprinkler head by the porch."
She poured the wine, making it a point of not asking if he'd like any. She didn't need to give him any reason to hang around. It was much too dangerous. She was feeling too vulnerable, too exposed since she'd let herself slip in the office earlier.
"I already know your patient is being treated for Whipple's," she said with exaggerated frustration. "So what do you want, House?"
"You."
House held his breath as she turned to look at him.
This was it. Be bold. Honest. Don't panic.
He stepped toward her.
"Don't," she said, turning away from him and placing the cork back in the wine bottle. She hoped he couldn't see how her hands were shaking. "Lucas will be here soon and I don't feel up to any of your games."
"Lucas is on a stakeout in New York." Of course he'd know that.
"And I'm not playing a game," he said from behind her.
He was close. Too close.
She told herself to breathe.
"We can talk tomorrow at the office, I don't…"
His arm had slid around her waist and he was pulling her back against him.
"You smell good," he whispered close to her ear.
Oh, God.
This wasn't real. It couldn't be. She needed to pull away from him. She needed to gain some control of her senses and not get sucked into whatever game he was playing. And he was playing. There was no way this was real, no way House was making a real move.
Her body betrayed her. She felt herself lean against him and her hand laced through the fingers at her waist, the fingers that were sneaking under the hem of her shirt and gliding up the skin of her stomach.
Cuddy thought she was going to hyperventilate. How many years had she wanted this? Needed it, in fact? And now that she'd given up any hope…
"Do you still want to make-out?"
His lips barely touched her neck just below her ear, but she could feel the scruff of his beard and it sent an electric shock through her body.
House felt her tremble even as she tried to fight her response.
"Don't do this, House."
But her fingers where still entwined with his as he cupped her lace clad breasts.
"Do you really want me to stop?"
This was much different that the last time he'd touched her. He was much different.
His hand slipped inside the cup of her bra, his finger circling the hardened tip.
She moaned softly and pressed back against his groin. House lost his breath.
"No," she said.
She felt his other hand slid across her stomach and beneath the waist of her yoga pants.
"No, what?" he asked, his lips against her neck still doing maddening things to her senses.
Cuddy couldn't think to respond. She could only focus on the feel of his hand making a circular motion around her navel, each rotation bringing his fingers closers to the spot that was now desperate for his touch.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.
His fingers were beneath her panties and lingering just above her slit. She whimpered, wanting more, but knowing she should say no. This was wrong. But it felt so right. It felt perfect. It felt amazing.
"I'm going to touch you, Cuddy," he said.
Yes!
He slid his finger down through her slickness and back up in a slow, tantalizing stroke. She was powerless to prevent her hips from pushing against his hand, seeking more.
"Tell me you want me," he said, his voice heavy at her ear.
She couldn't speak. His finger had found her swollen clit and was creating a circular pleasure that fried her brain. She whimpered again.
His fingers stilled.
Damn him.
"I need you to tell me you want this," he said.
He was determined to have her consent before he moved forward. He couldn't have her saying no. It was one thing to lay it all out for her, but he needed to know she was at least a little there with him.
"Tell me," he repeated.
The feel of his hand molding her breast and the pressure of his fingers hovering just beyond her heat was torment, but it was the feel of his erection against her ass that was her undoing.
"I want this," she said on a sigh. She was tired of fighting it.
His fingers found her nub and she rocked against him.
Cuddy could feel him smile against her neck. The arrogant bastard. All the months of running from her feelings for him, or resisting that invisible draw that always pulled them together, and it took only seconds for him to have her melting beneath his touch.
This was it. This was his chance. House was going to show her how happy she'd just made him, but more importantly, he was going to show her how happy he could make her.
He pulled his hands away from her and Cuddy almost cried out. He turned her around to face him, his eyes capturing hers in a lock so intense she didn't notice how he bent to push her pants and panties down to her feet. It wasn't until she felt the cold surface of granite against her skin that she realized he'd lifted her onto the kitchen island.
"Lie back."
Cuddy thought she'd hyperventilate. He was already raining kisses up her inner thighs and she fell back onto the countertop, naked from the waist down and open for him.
"I've dreamed of you like this."
Don't talk! You'll ruin it.
"Thinking of you like this is what kept me sane."
What? Her comprehension was impaired by the feel of his scruff between her legs and the softness of his lips so close to her core.
"You're all I need."
Okay, maybe he wouldn't ruin it.
Cuddy moaned. It was all she could do to acknowledge his words before the flat of his tongue was against her, sliding upward in a slow and steady swipe.
She thought he said she tasted good, but she couldn't be sure. He'd found her engorged clit and was circling it with his tongue, licking and sucking, stroking her until she felt she would scream. He didn't stop until she did cry out, her entire body writhing and spasming as his tongue dove into her center.
His hands held her hips steady as she came down from her high. She wanted to laugh, to cry, to drown in the wonder of this amazing orgasm, but he was sucking on her clit again. It was too sensitive. She jerked at his touch, but he held her tight and hummed his pleasure against her. She felt the waves building again.
She thought it couldn't be possible so soon, but that was only a brief thought before she cried aloud again, gripping his hair and fisting it as she held him tight between her legs.
House crawled up her body, brushing kisses along her skin until he reached her face.
His eyes were bright, glistening and raw with emotion.
"I need you," he said.
She was breathing heavy and dazed, but she was blinking in an attempt to focus on him. He had an uncertain grin on his face, as if he was proud to have given her so much pleasure, but was afraid she would reject him.
Cuddy cupped his face in her hands and pulled him to her. She could smell her scent on his breath as he leaned in to kiss her lightly on the lips.
She wanted more. She reached for him, but he was pulling away.
"I've laid it all out for you, Cuddy," he said in a raspy voice. "It's your turn."
She didn't know what to say. She was stunned.
"This is what we can have," he said, and bent to retrieve his cane from the floor. "We can have this every day, but you need to make it happen. You need to make it real."
Cuddy was lightheaded and dazed, still drowning in a post orgasmic euphoria. She couldn't respond. She couldn't stop him as he turned and limped out the door. She just lay back on the island and stared up at the ceiling feeling the weight of what had just transpired.
####
It had been three days since he'd tasted her. Three tortuous days. He'd thought she'd come to see him, thought he'd made things right. Instead he'd spent three nights beating off, remembering what she looked like spread out before him, and three days watching her freeze him out and avoid him. He'd tried everything to get a response out of her, coming to her for even the smallest procedure, holding a surgery room hostage, sabotaging the MRI, even hiding a corpse in the 4th floor toilets. She'd only spoken to him when necessary, and always in a controlled, professional voice. She was totally shutting him out and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He'd played his hand and lost.
House was miserable.
He reached into the candy dish at the nurse's station and stole a red sucker. Nurse Jeffrey stared daggers at him, as if House cared. He ripped the wrapper off the candy and threw it at him.
Screw it! He was tired of being good, tired of trying so hard to do be what people wanted him to be and it bringing him nothing but misery. He was going to finish up his clinic duty and get the hell out dodge. He needed a drink.
Cuddy stood outside her office door and watched the way he moved his tongue along the candy before sucking it into his mouth. Just a few nights ago, she'd been that sucker, sampled and devoured by him. He was driving her crazy!
She'd broken up with Lucas the next time she'd seen him after what had happened in her kitchen. It was the right thing to do. She couldn't stay with him when she was so in love with another man. But she couldn't go to House until she'd come to terms with what she expected, what she could handle with him. They had so much history between them, so much was screwed up and yet, clearly so much was right. And he was trying to be more open and less selfish. She could see that. She'd seen it for months. He'd really shown it the other night. He'd given her more pleasure than she'd ever known and walked away without taking any for himself.
He drew the sucker out of his mouth and drew circles on his tongue before drawing it back between his lips. She couldn't take anymore.
He turned when he heard the click of her heels behind him, his eyes wide and curious. Cuddy took the stick between her fingers and yanked the candy from his mouth, glaring angrily at him before tossing the sucker over the desk and into the garbage.
House stared at her, stunned. She didn't say a word. Instead, she turned and stormed into her office.
"You're in the dog house again, I see," Nurse Jeffrey said.
House smiled as he processed what had just happened.
"Nope," he said, and swung his cane in the air. He wasn't in the dog house at all.
####
He was placing the lid on the boeuf bourguignon when she stepped into the kitchen.
"I could call the police on you for breaking and entering," he said without even turning to look at her.
"I used your key, so technically not breaking."
House grinned at the paraphrasing of his own excuse.
"I'm here," she said.
"I can see that."
House dried his hands on the towel and tossed it on the counter.
"I broke up with Lucas."
He turned to look at her, then. She was wearing a pair of jeans and pink shirt, a far cry from the skirts she wore at the hospital. She was dressed relaxed, but he could tell she was far from it.
"Dinner won't be ready for another hour or so."
Cuddy crossed her arms at her chest and averted her eyes.
"Please don't," she said, biting nervously on her lower lip. "Don't make me beg."
House took the few steps forward and into her space. Cuddy breathed deep, drawing in the feel of nearness.
"Is begging an option?"
She caught his grin. Bastard.
"Not a chance."
He knew it was a lie.
House reached out and took her hand.
"That's too bad," he said as he pulled her to him. "I'd get down on my knees for you."
His arms scooped around her waist and her hands came to rest on his shoulders.
"Of course, if I get down on my knees it will be to make sure you beg."
Cuddy released that smoky laugh that he loved so much and pulled his head down so her lips could graze his as she whispered "Please."
House had never been so happy to oblige her request.