House didn't know whom to expect when he heard the knock on the door. No one ever visited him anymore. Wilson was out of town so it wasn't him. Sighing he made his way carefully to the door. Checking the peephole, his stomach knotted.
It was Cuddy, she looked nervous and anxious. This wasn't something he was up for. He knew he couldn't ignore her though. Something was pulling him to make sure she was okay. The past few days had been more than trying for her. Besides, after Mayfield he had promised himself that he wouldn't turn his back on her again.
Opening the door slowly, he greeted her with a blank nod. "Cuddy," he mumbled, stepping back to let her in. Everything about her body language was different. He had to admit that for the first time, it even left him a bit perplexed. Not being able to read her as well as he should left him more vulnerable than usual.
"House," her voice was tense and on edge. This was definitely not a friendly visit. "I've got a proposition for you," she said, slurring slightly. It was then that he realized, the tension he saw was simply her attempt at covering the fact that she had been drinking.
This was not good. It wasn't good at all. Their relationship, no, their friendship wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready for it. "Cuddy," he sighed, rubbing his brow. He only looked at her eyes once; a second time would be too much. They were filled with raw pain and need. She looked hollow and he could practically see the void she was trying to fill, the void that she needed him to fill.
She stepped closer to him, "Just hear me out. If you aren't interested, I'll leave. Although, I'm pretty sure this is an offer you won't refuse." She let the wry smirk melt on her lips, as she started at him waiting for a reaction. When she was met with an icy silence, she sighed. "Okay obviously not going to make this easy on me." She began to pace deciding on how best to word things. This was House and any deal she made with him would have to be thought out to the last detail, no loopholes.
House could feel the situation turning in a direction he dreaded. Not now, he mentally begged her. She deserved more. This wasn't right. "Lisa, you should go," he told her, his voice laced with a dark tone he had never used with her. He sat down on the couch and buried his face in his hands.
"Here's the thing. Lucas and I, we're not working out so well. Before you even start, it's not over. It's just," she hesitated, "Difficult." She sat down on the coffee table in front of House. "Greg, we've been friends a long time. I know you're attracted to me. Right now, I could really just use a friend to help me take the edge off," she said, one hand moving to rest on his good thigh. With a helpless tone in her voice, she added, "No strings attached. You don't have to be a grown up, you don't have to help with Rachel, the only thing I need is for you to keep things quiet."
House's hand instantly covered her own and shakily placed it back in her own lap. "Go home Lisa," he growled, warningly. "Go home and figure your life out like a grown up. If Lucas isn't cutting it, dump him. You have always been strong enough to handle things on your own. Don't be weak now."
She stood up and laughed bitterly. "You think you're the only one with the market on problems Greg? You think it's not possible for anyone else to need help. I'm tired of being strong. I'm tired of being dependable. After all the shit I've gone through for you, you're seriously not going to help me out with the one thing I know you'd more than enjoy?" she asked, straddling his lap and trying to rub against him.
"It would be a mistake Lise," he begged, pulling her tightly against his chest. He slid one arm down to lift her sideways into his lap, in a much less sexual position. "You're so much better than that," he brokenly whispered, kissing her forehead.
Struggling weakly in his arms she told him, "I don't want to be better. I want to feel wanted. I want to be desired." She leaned up and began to kiss his neck, between tears. "Please Greg." One hand rested on his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. He felt real. His strength, his devotion, his love, they were all real. She wanted that reality to swallow her whole safely. She wanted to be buried in his affection physically and emotionally.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cellphone and dialed the cab company. The whole time he spoke her rubbed her back tenderly, trying to offer whatever comfort he could. "You can't stay here tonight Lisa," he said gruffly. When she started to protest, he cut her off, "No, you have a kid, a boyfriend, and a life waiting for you back home. If that's not what you want you need to deal with it, but you can't hide out here and hope it goes away." Moving her off his lap, he stood up and walked towards the liquor cabinet. She was too close. She needed him, but things were different now. He would not' help her like that.
He poured himself a drink and downed it instantly. It was the first one he'd had since Mayfield, but he didn't care. Pouring another he walked by her and tossed a box of tissues at her. "Your cab will be here in ten." Walking to the study, he closed the door behind himself and sat down at the piano.
However, that night, as Lisa Cuddy shut the door behind her, it wasn't the piano she heard. It was the sound of his glass smashed against the wall, as he threw it across the room.