A/N-thanks to all readers and reviewers: housebound, jkarr, Bakerstreet Blues, TheHouseWitch, KiwiClare, IHeartHouseCuddy, Suzieqlondon, Fahrenheit451, Little Greg, alddi, CaptainK8, JLCH, southpaw2, OldSFfan, Boo's House, dmarchl21, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, Jane Q. Doe, Kraw, ClareBear14, Guest, LapizSilkwood, and partypantscuddy.

Day 2-Sunday Early Morning-

"Let's go," he said, gesturing out of his room.

"I should go to bed," she answered, looking around for a clock.

"You don't look tired. You won't sleep anyway. You'll just lie in bed and think…and you don't wanna think. So, since I've been conscripted to occupy your time, and prevent thought, let's go."

She tilted her head, looking at the clock next to the bed. "I dunno, House, maybe you can start occupying me tomorrow."

"Best offer I've had in a while," he said, leering. "Seriously, stop…being so uptight. No one knows you here."

"You know me."

"Sort of…but not really. Not for a long time. Just relax, let's go," he said, more insistently.

"I'm not as uptight as I used to be…I've really relaxed."

"Yesssss…I can see that," he said, patronizingly.

"Fine, I'm coming," she said.

"So, I'll moderate my wildly masculine facial hair, and you'll agree not to dress like a nun for the rest of the trip, right?" House asked.

"Until Tuesday. Or if I see too much wild masculinity cropping up…" Cuddy joked, as they rode the elevator down to her floor. "My percentage of coverage will coincide with yours."

"Cool! In that case, I'm shaving my face, completely clean," he said, flashing a flirty gaze.

"I should have been more specific. My percentage of coverage will roughly coincide with yours."

"So, if I shave my head, will tomorrow be an entirely topless day?"

"No…I don't think so," she said, with a breathed chuckle.

"What about pants-less?"

"Equally unlikely," she responded.

They walked down the hall and House said, after a moment's thought, "So…the boyfriend found the mass, and since the biopsy was obviously recent, that means, the boyfriend was also pretty recent. How recent?"

"Pret-ty recent," she said, pulling her key from her pocket as they grew closer to her door.

"Current?" House asked, a hint of jealousy showing through. "Why leave him at home?"

"I didn't. We broke up."

"I see," he said, confidently, "You decided you were going to go it alone? Spare him the pain of caring for someone sick, before even knowing if you're sick, so you 'set him free' so he could move on?"

She offered a sad, thin-lined smile, looking up at him while they walked.

"I hate that stupid crap…" he said, "why be a martyr when someone is willing to be there with you?"

"Fine, he dumped me! Are you happy?" she said, louder than she intended.

"What?" House asked, with surprise.

"The day of the biopsy, he was supposed to go with me to the doctors, he didn't show up. When I got home…he was packing his things and said it was too intense. Told me to call him after I got my health 'worked out.' Hopefully that's enough honesty for you."

"He left you…when he thought you had cancer? What a dick!" House said, as Cuddy stopped at the door to her room to open the lock.

She looked at him, "Is this where we get into an uncomfortable discussion about the past and boyfriends you can't count on to be there when you're sick?" she asked, quietly and without malice.

"Fuck," he started, tilting his head to one side. "I wouldn't have left you…you ended…"

"Let it go," she interrupted. "I'm just…not going to waste my time being angry at him, for something that's…par for my particular course. And you, are supposed to be distracting me. I don't want to talk about…that."

"I'm here now," he said, staring through her, wanting the truth of that fact to be crystal clear.

"Excuse me," she heard from behind her, as the room service attendant, who delivered their food earlier, approached them. "The Blackburn's…yea…your room is up one level. Need me to help you find it?" he offered.

"This is our room too," House answered before Cuddy could.

"You have two rooms?" the attendant asked.

"Yea!" House answered. "She's nervous about the wedding night. She wanted some private time her own room to get herself perfect for me."

"But…you're here with her?" the attendant asked, confused.

"Well…it is our honeymoon, and she hates to be apart for too long. Virgins!"

The attendant, looked at Cuddy with surprise, and wordlessly nodded before taking off, with a great deal of speed, down the hall. Cuddy laughed, "Who would believe I'm a virgin now?"

"I didn't believe it when you were 18," he answered.

"Don't remember trying to convince you that was the case," she answered softly. She pushed open the door, and gestured for him to enter.

He immediately went to her luggage and lifted it off of the floor, dropping it on the bed and unzipping it. He held up outfit, after outfit, flinging most of them on a chair. "We're going to have to go on shore at the next stop and find you something…Cuddy-worthy. What do you wear to work anymore?"

"Same stuff as always, but I'm not at work."

"See…this…guy you went out with, Fuckwad or Percival or whatever his name was…you let him undermine your confidence. Then you decide you feel dumpy, so you bring all of your nunnery-wear. Actually…some of this stuff is new…isn't it? You recently thought this was a good idea?" he asked, holding up a blocky dress that clearly wouldn't have followed her figure.

Cuddy walked over to the chair and began folding the clothes he discarded. "Yea, some of it's new," she finally answered.

"So you bought this shit because you feel old and dumpy…and all it's going to do, is make you feel older and dumpier."

House pulled out a silky nightshirt, "Here you go," he said, holding out the garment. "This is the closest thing to Cuddy-worthy that I see in your luggage. We'll buy new clothes tomorrow."

"I'm not going to wear pajamas to run around with you."

"Just the top. You can keep your pants. It's 12:30. Everyone else is drunk, they won't remember. Which reminds me, why aren't we drunk?"

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Scavenger hunt. But I may need your…assets. Wear this…"

"You're kidding?"

"Dean Cuddy would have rocked that shirt. Trust me. I hate this guy for undermining everything I held dear. Who is he?"

"Nope," she said, pulling the shirt from his hand and walking into the bathroom. She pushed the door shut, but didn't latch it entirely, talking while she changed. "I really don't feel like hearing your take on my previous relationship, because I already know what you're going to say."

"What will I say?" he shouted over to her.

"If I tell you…you'll know…and then you'll enlighten me. Next topic."

"Now I have to know," House said, with excitement.

"I'm not telling you."

"You told me everything about your…issues…but you won't tell me about your ex. He's out of your life, so I have no need to be jealous of him…so it can't be that…"

Cuddy walked out from the bathroom in the deep red, silky top, still in the same slacks. House stared at the way the fabric moved around her. "That's better," he said, temporarily distracted from his search for the truth, while remembering the way her silky smooth tops that she wore under blazers at work would feel against his skin. He felt the oddest stab of excitement, remembering the times she slid against him, the silky tops smoothing across his stomach and chest, the fabric whooshing under his hands.

He took a deep breath and banished the thoughts from his head. "I'm still not telling you," she said, as he led her back out into the hallway. "Where are we going?" she asked again.

"Just let go and let me handle it. You said you were more relaxed now," he chastised, "prove it!"

"Fine," she said, nodding.

"OK, so…things Cuddy wouldn't want me to know about her…umm, he could have been very rich…like a…sugar daddy, but you wouldn't need one…so why would that be embarrassing? Maybe he had an embarrassing job, or…is it someone I know?" House asked with concern.

"No one you know," she said.

"OK, Either he's really fucking old, or really young or…" House grinned. "Were you…robbing the cradle? You decidedly did not make a face when I said 'really young.' Cuddy…are you a…cougar?"

"Shut up, that's exactly what I thought you'd say. Does anyone even say that anymore?"

"You are…wow."

"Why is it so bad for a woman to date a younger guy?"

"It isn't, I'm impressed. After me, you'd have to find someone close enough to their sexual peak to even get close to the consistent quality of my performance."

"Consistent?"

"Wait…what does that mean. Why is 'consistent' a question?" he asked, self-consciously.

She turned to him while she walked, "It isn't. Since when are you insecure about your performance? That was one of the things you never seemed insecure about."

"I'm not," he answered as they stood, waiting in front of the elevator, and he repeatedly punched the elevator button.

"Who is she?" Cuddy asked softly.

"Who?"

"The woman who made you feel the way I feel?"

"You're imagining things," he said.

"No, I'm not. I can tell," she said. "Do you have a girlfriend, House?"

"No," he answered, tersely.

"But you did?"

The elevator finally opened, and she punched the number button inside, so lost in their exchange that she forgot to move gingerly, and winced, just a bit.

"Do you want something for that? For the pain?" he asked.

"No! I'm fine. I handle pain quite well."

"I know you do…but why? You're on vacation, no point in hurting if you can…not hurt."

"I'm not sure I'm interested in whatever you have for pain."

"How do you know, if you don't know what I'm offering?" he asked, clutching his chest as he pretended to be offended.

"You're deflecting. Are you a cougar?"

"I'm a man…I can't, by definition, be a cougar."

"You know what I mean."

"A guy that dates a much younger woman is a genius. And a stud. Both. And that's it."

"Gotta love a double standard."

They found the ship salon, door locked, and House thought for a second. "You know, this place would be so much more fun if we didn't have to bother with things like hours of operation and time. After all, I'm figuring if we avoid people and enjoy the facilities when they are much less crowded, it would be better for both of us."

House leaned against the wall, thinking for a second, until she could see an idea flash across his face. "OK, Mrs. Blackburn," he said, as they approached the customer service desk, but stopped before they'd be noticed. "Go to the counter and tell Skippy that this key doesn't work. Ask him to come back to my room with you, to show you, because they already tried giving you a new key earlier. Keep him there as long as you can. And go for the…helpless hottie thing…use what you've got."

"The days of that working are a distant memory."

"I have this feeling like you wouldn't have said that two weeks ago…but…try it. If it doesn't work, pretend like he's a donor…promise him a blow job."

Her face twisted in offense, "I have never…"

"Yes…Cuddy, I can see, again, this is the new relaxed version of you. Clearly."

She rolled her eyes, "Fine. I'll see what I can do. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to fix our hours of operation problem. Then, I'll meet you in my room," he said, standing up, and beginning to walk away before coming back and whispering over her shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll be back in plenty of time, so you don't actually have to blow the guy."

House watched from a distance as she approached the desk. She leaned against the counter, head tilted toward her shoulder, as she asked, with a hint of flirtation, for help. She was subtle, nothing like how she would have behaved years earlier, but he thought her hesitation made her look more in need of help. The guy behind the counter, shy, probably lonely, reacted exactly as he should have, and appeared eager to help.

Years ago, House thought he might have enjoyed seeing Cuddy a bit less sure of herself, of her attractiveness. But seeing it, he absolutely hated it. She looked really good, amazing actually, particularly given the amount of time that had elapsed and the demands of career, and single motherhood. House couldn't think of a single reason why she should be less sure of herself, from a physical standpoint, but he also knew he wouldn't be able to take her like that, because she just wasn't Cuddy.

He caught the door before it closed and looked around the office for the things he needed. Then, he wondered about the ex-boyfriend. House would admit it, silently, he hated the guy. He hated the guy for getting to be with Cuddy, and also hated him for not being with her when she needed him. Then, he thought about Cuddy, and motherhood, and wondered what role her ex played in Rachel's life. He, almost literally, hit his forehead with the heel of hand, as he realized he hadn't even asked about Rachel. Admittedly, there was a lot of information to comprehend in a very short amount of time, but he at least wanted to ask. There was so much to learn before Tuesday.

Cuddy was trying to distract the guy, Skippy. She had no idea what his name really was, and didn't look at his name tag, since she felt House's moniker for the customer service specialist seemed more appropriate than anything his parents could have come up with. She wasn't sure how much time House needed. Once they got in the room, she started asking him about the amenities on the ship, which places to go on the excursions, what food to eat. At the exact moment when she thought she wasn't going to be able to come up with anything else to say, House burst in the room, "Felicity!" House shouted at Cuddy, before turning to Skippy, "Who in the hell are you? What are you doing in here with my wife?"

The guy stood straight up, "Sir, I…her key…she asked me…I helped…"

Cuddy walked over to House, playing the role, "It's OK, I had trouble with my key, Honey," she said sweetly, walking between House and Skippy, and weaving her arm through House's.

He could feel her body next to him, smell her perfume. It wasn't even two full days since he left Tina, but he felt like he hadn't been near a woman in years. They watched, with some amusement, as the guy hurried from the room. "Well done, Cuddy!" House said, "I told you that you still had it in you," he said, turning to face her, purposefully letting his eyes wander, just subtly, down to her chest. He wanted her to feel his eyes on her, and then, he caught the faintest corner of a bruise. The tiny sliver of purpled skin reminded him of the realities lingering behind the game of disregarding reality that they were playing.

He held up a badge, quickly distracting himself from what he had seen. "Keys to the ship…"

"Felicity?" she asked.

"Yea," he answered, "Will and Felicity Blackburn, it's their honeymoon we're enjoying…remember?"

Cuddy sat in the salon, on a stylists' chair, legs crossed at the knee and swaying side to side, watching, while House hooked up the clippers and started trying to unsuccessfully hack through his long, thick beard.

"So…who's the girl?" she asked.

"Not ready to trade those secrets yet, Cuddy."

He eventually relented and cut it back with scissors before taking the trimmer to it again, leaving just a shadow. "You…are gorgeous," he said to himself in the mirror before turning to her.

She stopped her back and forth swaying on the chair and walked over to him, her eyes squinted with suspicion. "It really is you…"

"You had doubts?" he smirked at her while she scrutinized him. He looked good, his face a bit more lined, but over all, it was unmistakably House, and she found him undeniably handsome.

She put a hand on his cheek, almost involuntarily, before she could realize what she was doing, and felt him, only barely, press his face into her hand. "You look…really good," she said, "it's good to see you." She felt her familiar attraction and heard an entire committee's worth of disapproving inner thoughts and pulled back her hand. "My life…is falling apart…and here you are…so together. Must be fun for you, in a way," she said calmly, without a hint of accusation or contempt.

"I'm not together," he said, staring into her eyes, his voice barely audible. "I'm finally out of pain, I can walk, and I'm still…unhappy…every single day of my life. Fixing my leg…didn't change much. No matter what happened between us, I am having fun with you, the most fun I've had since before Wilson died… I'm…enjoying this suspension of reality that we're sharing…not looking down on you."

Just as his expression melted when she told him about her biopsy, her expression slipped from her face as she saw a sorrow that she had hoped he'd long since abandoned.

He turned away, almost as if he had only spoken the words because he was possessed by another power to do so. In his normal voice, with all of its previous bravado returning, he said, "Come on, Cuddy! I have something to show you."

She looked at the mess of fuzz he left in the sink and on the counter, and walked over to clean it up, but instead grabbed the trimmers, and blew the loose hairs away from it while she thought about cleaning up, and said, "Ah fuck it," and hurried to join him.