Here is a new chapter...I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 3: This isn't a fantasy

House don't.

Why? Cuddy it doesn't have to be like before.

No. This isn't real House. It's too messy now. We're not…we just can't okay.

There was a time when you wouldn't have said no to me.

And look where it got me.

What we had wasn't so bad. It could be even better now. No one knows you like me. Because no one sticks around long enough to try and break through your ice wall. If they did then they would know that this…all of this is nothing but a smokescreen. You don't know how to say yes, and finally let yourself be happy so you—

You're one to lecture me about being unhappy…you are the most miserable person I know. What do you know about making yourself happy?

That 's what I'm trying to do. Now come here…

House woke suddenly and found himself alone in his bed. He blinked. There was still the semblance of sensation where his lips had pressed down on Cuddy's in his dream. His neck felt heavy with her arms wrapped around him. And his chest was constricted. Lately she was with him constantly. In his mind, in his dreams. Despite how taxing the last week had been on him, both physically and emotionally, Cuddy was the one who was holding things together for everyone. House thought, before the accident, he felt like something might be happening between them. They were reconnecting somehow. He knew now was not the time to ask her, but he wondered how long he would have to punish himself for Amber's death before he could start to try and fix his own life.

OOOOOOOO

Wilson was a gun ready to go off. Cuddy worried now whether or not she had pushed them too hard. She worried that rushing things back to normal was not going to make things better for anyone. Except maybe for House. If House had his way he would never mention the accident or Amber ever again, and neither would anyone else. Cuddy pulled at a rubber band between her fingers.

She vaguely recalled having some administrative things to do…dean of medicine, that's right. House and Wilson were occupying her mind seemingly night and day. And Amber. Cuddy shook her head; she wasn't going to let herself go there.

House stumbled into her office around eleven that morning and dropped into a chair in front of her desk.

"I'm kind of busy, House. I've gotten behind on so much—"

"Where should I take him?"

"Huh?"

"Wilson. We are having dinner tonight, and I'm not sure where we should go. Someplace not to quiet, but nothing obnoxious either. I don't want to be insensitive."

"Why don't you just have him over to your place? Or his…where is he staying?"

"I don't know actually. Probably back at the hotel. He hasn't told you?"

"No," Cuddy said sadly. "He isn't really confiding in me too much these days. I think he partially blames me…"

House rolled his eyes. "For what? Warming her up? He knows that made no difference. God, Cuddy. You have to get that guilt under control. Leave the self-pity to those of us who really are to blame."

Cuddy looked at him sympathetically. "House…"

"Just, nevermind." House waived her off, and glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone would be barging in on them anytime soon. He bounced his cane on her floor in a rhythmic series of taps. "I had a dream about you last night," he said.

"About me? What kind of dream? Or do I even want to know?"

"We were in your office. We were arguing, and then we were kissing." House wasn't really looking at her as he recalled his dream. He was basking in it instead.

Cuddy glanced up at him. Her cheeks flushed. "Nope, I don't want to know."

House brought his attention back to her. "You really don't know where Wilson is staying?"

OOOOOOOO

A shorty I know...will have another chapter up soon...but reviews do make me write faster :-)