Title: Woulda', shoulda', coulda' (IV/? )

Author: curseofAvalon

Authors notes: Alternate Universe

Pairing: Seriously Huddy

Rating: b R!!! beware /b

Summary: The Consequences of being a dreamer

Disclaimer: I don't own House or its characters Fox does tho, I just used them shamelessly for this snippet.

The Whiskey softly made its way down House's throat, warming his stomach and calming his mind a little. He pushed the glass back to the Bartender and motioned for a refill, almost sticking his tongue out as the guy looked at him with pity.

'You seem like you're in some deep shit. Seen it all before here... . This one's on the House.'

Swirling the golden liquid in his glass he thanked the guy with a nod before downing it fast. He tried numbing his mind so he wouldn't be able to dream once he returned home. For the past week he had been having erotic dreams of ' Ma'am Satan' herself at every possibility, even if it was just a short nap. He was used to sleep deprivation, but he wasn't used to the way his mind seemed to claim sleep now without his consent. His body seemed to seek every chance to get tired, just to get some physical and embarrassing release from a dream.

Behind him the crowd cheered when a huge white College kid and another guy started a game of down the Scotch and House was sure he would be seeing one of them in ICU tomorrow.

The stool next to him made swishing sound as the air was pressed from the polster when someone sat down on it and House felt her Majesty Grumpiness rising for he liked the solitude of getting drunk without someone stealing the light from the open sign.

'I would sit somewhere else if I was you, I like the eerie look the green light from the 'Open' sign gives my left nostril.'

The figure next to him snorted dismissively.

'As if that would do any good. Better to hide you and save the Hospitals reputation.'

A tiny half smile broke out on his face and House had to duck his head so Cuddy wouldn't see.

'Well then tell me what the hell Miss Perfect is doing here sitting her but on the filthy stools of ...'

Actually he had to peer at the door again to read the bars name since he usually never came here, too close to the Hospital.

'...Danny's.'

The Bartender shot him a look as if considering to clean the Bar with him, but the nasty stare spell was broken by Cuddy ordering a dry Martini.

'How very Carrie of you.'

Cuddy was about to put a five dollar bill on the counter but was stopped by House.

'Drink's on me.'

'You do have money right?'

'You wound me sometimes Cuddy.'

She shot him a 'Yea right' look and sipped on her drink, the conversation dying down as each was lost in their own mind.

She wasn't really happy about having him met in the bar. Usually he went somewhere close to his place to avoid Hospital personal at all costs. She had hoped for an evening without his presence, in her mind or in real live. She still felt week in the knees from the moment she found him above her, in her office, ready to touch her and if the light wouldn't have been that dark and the green light illuminating her then House would've seen that she was blushing hard.

The moment she woke and found him standing by her, her heart jumped in her chest. The unguarded look she saw, just for the fraction of a second, had reminded her of the man she once knew and her heart started aching even more. She was already weak from all the dreams, the feeling of despair whenever she reminded herself that it was never going to happen, couldn't. This look was almost her undoing, and the moment between them wouldn't have passed if Rosie wouldn't have been in the room.

But it did pass, leaving both of them flustered, making excuses and giving guarded looks. So she'd come here to get a drink, or two, and then fall into bed at home, hopefully without a dream about him, knowing she'd be in serious trouble if she didn't get to sleep another night.

The stool left from Cuddy was soon taken up by some college guy. Complete with slacks, polo shirt and a popped collar. He smiled at her sweetly and then let his gaze drop to her cleavage, this not going unnoticed by House, who scoffed immediately.

'Hey Babyface! Funbag staring is my privilege only'

Cuddy shot him a look and rolled her eyes at his crude comment

'Thanks, you're such a knight in shining Armor.'

'Can a guy like me get a beautiful gal like you a drink?'

Another eye roll by House, who quickly ordered himself another Whiskey, almost had her laughing. Almost.

'No thanks I still got a drink.'

'Well then let me invite you to my table, because I know if I don't get to know you're name it will drive me nuts.'

It was cute how he tried, but lame. Cuddy chuckled dryly and shook her head.

'Hey college kid? Does your mom know you're here?'

House threw the boy a nasty stare and downed the Whiskey for show.

'Dude what's your problem?'

'That this lovely lady you're dry humping in your mind is here with me.'

Her mouth dropped open as she whipped her head around at him. It wasn't that she was angered that he tried to get rid of the College kid, actually she appreciated that, but him using this out was unexpected. Cuddy had thought he's say something rude like to keep his hands of his hooker or something, this was, in a way, nice for House standards. She turned her head back to College Boy and smiled sweetly at him.

'You're here with the cripple? Jeez I wouldn't have taken you for the welfare.'

She felt House standing behind her, making his barstool fall over and cringed inwardly. Before he could do anything she pressed her back against his front and blocked him and craned her neck to look up at him softly.

House stopped all movement, froze when he felt that delicate form against his, the rage inside of him being swapped by something else, much more powerful, lust. He gazed down at her and nodded slightly, just to reassure her he would calm.

'Lets pay and leave, ok?'

It was no request, it was a command, and he complied.

'What now sissy? Man you're so whipped.'

'Oh wouldn't you like to be?'

It were Cuddy's last words before she grabbed House's hand and pulled him out of the bar. She ignored the shudder and the heat radiating from his hand, just pulled him down the block until she was sure they weren't being followed. His step was a little lighter then usual, probably caused by the alcohol, still she slowed for him, so he could easily fall into step with her.

They were silent for most of the walk, nobody really caring where exactly they went, just being content with the walking, the silence and the company. They came to an halt near the park and sat down on a bench together.

'That...was...in your own whacko way, almost chivalrous.'

House snorted and leaned his cane against the bench, leaned back and gazed at the sky. He felt it then, the soft, warm pressure in his hand. He gazed down at the middle of the bench, where her and his hand still laid, intertwined, her hand and fingers almost being swallowed by his larger one's.

Cuddy was looking at them too, wondrously. Sparks where traveling from hand to hand, and further on through their bodies, igniting fire's deep within. They looked up at each other at the exact same moment, Questions in her eyes and something dark and primal in his.

'What are you doing?'

Her voice was raspy, as if she hadn't used it in a while.

'I could be asking you the same. You grabbed my hand in the first place.'

'Then let go of my hand House.'

Her gaze shifted to his, daring but scared all the same. House squeezed her hand and then pulled her towards him softly. He was blaming it on the alcohol, this bold move. His eyes traveled to her lips, lingering there, watching her tongue flick out and moisten them.

'Tell me to stop Cuddy.'

It was barely above a whisper and still the impact was tremendous. He knew that if she did it would end embarrassing for both of them. Suddenly he felt her soft hand pressed against his chiseled cheek, her thumb stroking oh so tender.

'No.'