Leap of Faith

Here is a new story. It takes place during "Unfaithful", about two hours after Cuddy and House left the hospital ... and went in opposite directions.

House is at his piano. Cuddy's on the road.

It took me a year to write this. It's now finished and divided in four parts.

I held it in a precious place in my heart and it's a story that I love deeply. The title is a song by Springsteen, again.

Please, enjoy and love your reading as much as I loved writing-living-experiencing it.

Best,

Ju

PS : I publish today, June 11th. It's a sweet day. It's my man's day. Happy Birthday, Hugh. Love u.

Chapter I

6.20 p.m

"Hi"

His surprise told her she was the last person he thought finding behind his door, especially that night.

"Can I come in?"

"What are you doing here?" he asked quietly but firmly.

"It's freezing"

House took a look at Rachel, enveloped in her clothes and a cover.

"Then why don't you go back to your place? There's noth- "

"Please"

Cuddy was shivering, though there wasn't any cold air. She had left winter outside but the apprehension and stress she felt made her cold. He finally stepped aside without any other comment, keeping his eyes on her as she made her way into his apartment. Apart from the logs cracking up in the fireplace, the apartment was uncomfortably silent. Suddenly, being here seemed to be the worst idea she's ever had. Cuddy turned to face him and was strangely reassured by his own discomfort.

"Can you hold her a second?"

House was about to protest but found himself with Rachel in his arms before he could barely open his mouth. Rachel was looking at him in the same way she did when Cuddy's come in his office – big baby blue eyes staring into his with a childish innocence and a profound curiosity. And has she recognized him or not, Rachel slightly giggled when her soft little hand met the roughness of his stubble.

Cuddy took off her coat and scarf, leaving them on the back of the couch. Her heart melted at the vision before her eyes. Looking at the Diagnostician holding her daughter, she knew that was what she wanted. The beginning of a smile emerged on her face. But convincing the man of her true feelings for him would be a more difficult task. She was very well aware of his fears and apprehensions because at some extent they matched her own.

"You're not gonna puke on me again, ha?"

Cuddy slightly laughed at the fake worried tone of his voice. Their gaze met and the reality abruptly stepped in. His eyes darkened when he handed her Rachel with an uneasy smile. Their fingers brushed. His skin burnt under the contact.

"There is nothing here for you, Cuddy" he said dryly "you shouldn't be here at all"

She bit her lips and swallowed, replacing Rachel's clothes correctly on her back as she lay her little head on her shoulder. She couldn't find anything to say and felt her courage failing within seconds.

"You were playing" she said then, glancing at the piano as he did the same.

An uncomfortable silence followed and neither House nor Cuddy knew what to do, half-expecting the other to whereas speak first or run away. Hardly ever such a formidable awkwardness had stood between them. Although, noticing how embarrassed and nervous she was helped House to recollect from his early amazement.

"You wanna hear it?" he asked. His voice was hesitant as if he was afraid of receiving both a positive and a negative answer.

"I'd love to" she promptly responded and her eyes sparkled with a delighted interest.

He followed her caring movements as she installed her now sleeping daughter on the couch, making for her a protecting cocoon of cushions. He limped to the piano and sat on the bench. He couldn't see her face but imagined the little smile on her lips that she would only reserve for Rachel. Finally, Cuddy came nearer and he didn't take his eyes off her as she naturally took a place that seemed to have been waiting for her.

House couldn't remember the last time someone has shared that bench with him. He glanced at her, admiring her features and the soft shade of pink on her cheeks. She turned her head toward him. He could deal with her presence but not with what he was able to read in her blue eyes. With one hand, House pressed one of the keys and realized that he has never allowed anyone that close while playing, except his mother.

She was so close he could feel the heat of her leg and arm even if they weren't touching each other. He tried to forget the desire he felt rising in his body; thus began. Cuddy was following the stunning facility and devotion with which his fingers were dancing on the black and ivory keys. He's closed his eyes and she could easily see how captivated he was. He wasn't really there anymore. With a khaki and his Oxford pink shirt, she found him terribly elegant. For a moment, she couldn't take her eyes off his profile: the soft curves of his thin lips to his rough stubble, even the small chicken pox spot on his nose and the vein on his temple. She has never ever seen him so peaceful and tranquil, so handsome before in her life.

House's played it a dozen times this evening and the days before but never has he played the serenade that well. The woman who has inspired the melody was just inches away from the musician who knew very well that he would never find words as powerful as what he was trying to say with his piano. He wished she could understand what it meant for him to play for her. It was like sharing his most intimate thoughts and emotions.

When the serenade reached a more dynamic and cheerful rhythm, House opened his eyes and looked at her. Cuddy seemed engrossed by the music and oblivious of the delicate consideration of which she was the genuine object. Every note's been carefully chosen to express a part of her personality. The melancholic loneliness in her eyes – and sometimes in her smile too – when she thought no one could see her. That part of youthful insouciance he knew was deeply treasured inside her. Then, the unmissable softness of her feminine nature along with the irrational need of complete happiness. That was how House knew Cuddy: tenacious as a rock in the tempest but fragile as a leaf in the storm.

Like it's been written in his soul from him to her * and her very presence exceeded all what he's been trying to recreate through the music. He was a coward when it came to love and no such words would ever cross his lips. It couldn't be otherwise.

She deserved so much more than him and – despite the kiss and his own fearfulness – he convinced himself long ago that he was better all alone. He would love her with his piano, watching her from worlds apart. House saw Cuddy's contemplation being caught by the paper sheets spread on the piano. She paid no attention to the Schubert partition and slowly put the bourbon glass on the side. The silver bracelet on her wrist tinkled softly when she took them. He knew exactly how long the serenade would last and he wished he'd never have to stop and face the silence again. But as suddenly as they have filled the air, the notes faded away.

Cuddy knew it was what she's just heard even if she did not understand nor was able to read the partition. Her attention was captured by the two words written at the top of the first page. The effortless handwriting was familiar to her eyes and her half-opened lips were the true expression of her sweet astonishment. The man by her side remained silent as if he was afraid of saying something he would immediately regret. Cuddy kept looking at the paper – like if she stayed there long enough it would reveal all its secrets. House found the silence more oppressing than ever, now that he couldn't hide himself behind music. She had thousands of questions in mind but only managed to formulate the most obvious one.

"Did you write that for me?"

"No, for your mother" he answered, rolling his eyes with fake exasperation then continue while she tried unsuccessfully to repress a smile "you're not the only Cuddy I know"

"Actually, I am"

"No, you're not"

One eyebrow raised, he kept staring at her in his own intensive and unique manner. Cuddy bit her lips and an adorable smile curved tenderly her mouth when she realized what – or precisely who – he was referring to. Both at the same time, House and Cuddy turned their head toward the sleeping infant. Cuddy felt herself being surrounded by a delicate sentiment that filled her with love and maternal pride. It was the first time House actually acknowledged directly to her the strong link that now bound mother and daughter together.

"I think she likes your pillows" she said aimlessly, looking at her daughter whose tiny fist was curled upon one of them.

"Why are you here?"

She could swear he was looking at her, his blue eyes searching for answers. Cuddy lowered her head and swallowed, interlacing nervously her fingers on her laps. She did not even have a proper answer to offer, disconcerted by what has just happened and somehow irritated by her own weakness to face the man she has eagerly come to visit. In a way, she felt like they have suddenly been transported twenty years back.

"Play it again for me" she begged in a whisper.

"You should go"

His voice was soft but firm. At the very moment when she looked into his eyes, House felt his courage flickering. He bit the interior of his cheek to repress the urgent need to kiss her there and then.

"Please, go. I'll see you on Monday" he insisted through his half-opened lips.

"I don't wanna go" she replied instantly, shaking slightly her hands "I want to stay with you, and Rachel. I want …"

She stopped, breathless, and shook her head. On that bench, next to him, every word she could have prepared vanished into the silence just as the music before them. House ran his tongue on his lips, half-expecting her to run away from him. He frowned, realizing that he was afraid she would do so when he was expressly asking her to. Taking a deep breath, Cuddy raised her head and looked into his blue eyes with a mix of sincerity and hope.

"When we kissed, when you came to me after I lost Joy I thought … I thought maybe it was the beginning of something new between us – or the revival of something older" she confessed quietly "but you screwed everything up. Every time I tried to … get closer, you backed off, you kept running away from me, acting like you didn't care, like it didn't mean anything to you" Cuddy sighed and lowered her head. She brushed the ivory keys with one finger "I did too, screwing things up. I should have … I'm stuck, we're stuck. We've lost what we had once. And I … I want to move forward but with you. I just want us to be something, something more. »

She sighed heavily this time.

"And yet, you're the one who said you didn't want me there" he replied "that you didn't need someone filled with loathing and contempt"

Hearing her own words on his lips was painful, but she knew she deserved it.

"I'm sorry" she said slowly, looking up "I didn't know what I wanted and – "

"We don't have anything" he replied with a voice that let him think he was likely trying to convince himself "years ago, you hired me out of non-sense and sometimes I really wonder why, I lie to you, you lie to me, I ask for crazy procedures and make comments about your ass –"

"At the hospital. But things have changed … after Joy. Nothing has ever been strictly professional between us, you know that"

Her voice was calm but the fire burning in her grey eyes showed him how hard it was for her not to lose her temper. She looked fragile in all her determination.

"Whatever that was – that thing between us – it changed because we both dropped our guard in a vulnerable moment"

"It was a mistake"

"No" she affirmed in a stronger voice. It made him almost smile to see how adamant she was "I was sad and hurt. And lonelier than ever. You came when I least expected you, taking away my pain … you comforted me in your own way, House. Even if it was just for a few seconds. Never have I considered it a mistake. It meant, it still means a lot to me"

Cuddy lowered her head, biting her lips. He was sure she wasn't even realizing the effects that simple gesture triggered in him. But when she placed one hand on his right thigh, inches away from his scar, and locked her eyes with his blue ones, he panicked. He felt his heart quickly pounding in his chest and blood rushing in his veins.

"I wish you'd stayed" she whispered, hearing nothing but her own breath and the echo of his voice.

"That wouldn't have been a good idea, you know it"

"It doesn't have to be so complicated"

"Cuddy, don't –"

He knew he had all the time in the world to stop her but when her hand found his neck, he was trapped into her. Her fingers brushed the small hairs on his nape and the skin behind his ear. Her first touch sucked the air from his lungs. Breathless, Cuddy was mesmerized by the length of his lashes dancing before his eyes. She drew him a little closer and not leaving him time to speak, captured his thin lips in the tenderest kiss he has ever been given before.

He froze, taken aback by her sensitiveness. Her breath was warm and he profoundly breathed in. Cuddy felt his hesitation and claimed his mouth in another soft but more demanding kiss, and again, and again. Time has slowed and their world was reduced to where their body met. Their noses touched and his right hand found unwillingly her hip. She moaned softly, cupping his unshaven face into the palms of her hands. Cuddy shifted on the bench. Her entire body was responding to his touch. She felt as she has finally found the perfect place to rest, thrilled by the purity of their connection and careless of everything that wasn't him. She brushed his lips with her tongue. House groaned and froze instantly.

"Stop" he breathed, cupping her face and breaking the kiss.

There was a tiny streak of green on her eyes**, he thought, as he stared deeply into them. His chest was rising quickly as he tried to catch his breath.

End of Part One.

TBC...

*Bob Dylan

**Hugh The Gun Seller