Comfort

Cuddy had stayed late. It was nothing out of the usual. She probably thought that the hospital would crumble to the ground without her guiding hands. House had to admit to himself that it would be rough going with a less dedicated and caring dean of medicine. Maybe Princeton-Plainsboro had some of the most brilliant doctors in the country working there, but Cuddy was the glue that held them all together.

House paused outside of her office. The tiny lamp she had placed on the windowsill was lit and outlined her shape perfectly. He could tell that she was hunched over her desk, probably scribbling frantically on files or last minute budget plans. No matter how early she started, Cuddy always seemed to be laboring right up to the deadline. House shook his head a little before raising his cane and rapping on her door. He opened it without letting her invite him in.

He was immediately embarrassed and thought of backing out of her office without a word. Instead, he stared at her mascara streaked face, wondering had done her in this time. She didn't even bother to try and wipe away the tears streaming down her face.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice breaking a little. She cleared her throat and tried to brush a few strands of loose brown hair away from her face.

"What happened?" he countered, a little startled at how gentle it came out. Cuddy looked surprised for a moment, too, before she looked back down at her desk.

"It's nothing, House," she replied crisply. "That time of the month."

"Oh, please," House scoffed, sitting carefully on her couch. He could see Cuddy eyeing him cautiously, but wasn't surprised when she didn't raise her eyes. "You are an evil monster bitch when you get your period. You don't cry."

"And, suddenly, you're the expert on me?" Cuddy snapped, raising her eyes. "What do you want, House?"

"Nothing."

They stared at one another for a long moment before Cuddy shook her head and turned her chair so that her back was facing him.

"Go home."

"Do you think I'm scamming you for overtime?"

"House, please."

He didn't know why he decided to stand up then. He was not the kind of person to go to for comforting. If you wanted comforting, you went to Cameron. If you wanted gentle, you went to Wilson. You went to House if you needed the truth broken to you so that there was no way to deny it. Still, he climbed to his feet, using his cane as support. He almost winced when he saw the muscles in Cuddy's shoulders tense.

"Please," she almost whimpered this time and House watched as she rested her head in her hands, her elbows braced against the chair's armrests. He could almost imagine to see tears falling onto her immaculately pressed skirt. It could've remained just a study of human grief if he hadn't walked over to her chair so that he was resting against the back of it, his hands gripping the back.

"Cuddy, you can't cry over every patient," he advised awkwardly.

"That's not it, House," she said, her body going rigid again as he tentatively rested a hand on her shoulder.

Even though he would later consider it an act on complete insanity on his part, House bent down and wrapped his free arm around her chest so that Cuddy was tucked between his arm and the back of her chair. She didn't move or make a noise for a long moment. Then, much to his surprise, she jerked away from him. She stood up and turned to face him. Her chest was heaving with barely contained sobs. House started to move back from the chair when he found her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

How long they stayed like that was a mystery to House. Cuddy, usually so in control, clung to him tightly, her knees resting on the chair in between them. House wrapped his arms around her and let her cry onto his t-shirt even though it was new and one of his current favorites. He could feel his shoulder grow damp with tears and his leg grow tired from standing in one position, but he didn't pull away.

They only broke the embrace when Cuddy pulled away, her eyes ringed with smudged makeup and her cheeks blotchy red. House didn't smile or try to offer any words of comfort and Cuddy didn't thank him for letting her cry, literally, on his shoulder.

Instead, Cuddy wordlessly grabbed her coat and held the door open. House limped past her, painfully aware of her sniffling as she tried to calm herself down. He waited for her to lock her office door and walked her to her car, even though his motorcycle was closer to the building. He reasoned with himself that it was nice night and it was much needed exercise. He even held the door open as she lowered herself into the driver's seat. Cuddy looked up at him, her mouth open as though there was something she wanted to say. House nodded.

"See you tomorrow," he said quietly and a grateful smile appeared on her face.

"Don't be late," she countered, pulling the car door shut. House watched her drive off into the night before heading silently back to his motorcycle.

Author's Note: House may seem a little OOC in this one. Maybe it's just me, but I always picture House as being incredibly sweet and gentle when he's in love with someone. Remember some of the moments between him and Stacy in the second season? Well, I definately think that House is capable being sensitive and caring, he just never does it. Also, I don't think this is something they'd discuss later- kind of a one night stand, only with hugs and House being sweet.