It wasn't a big surprise to see that he was gone when she slapped the alarm off and turned to the other side of the bed. The covers were still tossed back, but he had taken the time to pick the extra blanket off the floor and throw it haphazardly across her feet. No scent of coffee wafting through the air; he had probably just dressed and left.
She got up and shuffled down the hallway intent on enjoying a nice leisurely breakfast when her eyes were drawn to a strange blanket the study.
Except it wasn't a blanket. It was the air mattress, flat as a pancake.
"What the hell…?" Cuddy muttered, and stepped closer.
This wasn't the result of a leak. Someone had murdered the air mattress in cold blood.
Confirmation of this came when she saw the gaping two-inch hole slashed into the side of it.
Technically House wasn't lying when he said he couldn't sleep on the mattress last night. But he didn't bother to mention he had been the cause of its untimely demise. He had gone out of his way to make sure she didn't look at it, basically badgering her into letting him sleep in her bed. So he didn't have to sleep in the study.
Why?
He hadn't touched her. She had spent a good forty-five minutes listening to his breathing turn to low snoring before she had be been able to go back to sleep. They had slept with their backs to each other. They only things out of place were the covers on the other side and the extra blanket he had left there.
He didn't want to sleep alone. For some reason he just couldn't come out and say it. He probably felt she would have turned him down, and she basically had. So he had to trick his way into her bed, even if the reason was just to have a warm body next to his, and had inadvertently made her mad in the process. An innocent air mattress had to pay the price.
It was four days before he came by again. He asked to sleep over. He didn't ask if she had bought a new air mattress. She didn't bring up what happened to the old one.
He was off the next day, so she was a bit surprised that he didn't plan on spending his time off getting drunk at his apartment. She didn't bring that up either. Instead, after he asked if could crash there for the night after wolfing down the sandwich she had fixed, she just said, "If you want."
"I do. You can sit next to me here on the couch if you want."
"I'm fine over here," she said, not moving from the chair.
He stayed up to watch the news as she went to bed. She was half asleep by the time he came limping into the bedroom. She listened to the rustle of his clothes and the soft tink of his belt buckle, then felt the a tug on the blankets and the bed dip as he climbed into it.
He didn't touch her. He didn't say a word and soon he was asleep.
Cuddy felt warm. Warm and safe. She didn't want to get up. She wanted to sleep until noon, then spend the rest of the day doing nothing. But that wasn't going to happen. Too much work to do--stupefying meetings to attend, patients to see, files to keep in order. Ten more minutes before the alarm was set to go off; she decided not to have the early morning screeching give House an excuse to bitch and moan for the next week. She blindly reached for the clock, noticing that the blankets seemed much more solid and heavy than they were the night before.
Because the blankets weren't the only thing draped over her.
Sometime during the night House had spooned up behind her and draped his arm over her waist. Cuddy pondered the situation while he quietly snored away against her shoulder. House wasn't the type to cop a cheap feel on an unconscious woman…was he? No, he wasn't. Even if he was, he would have at least been smart enough to go back over to his side of the bed and maintain his innocence. The blankets were pulled up to her chest and her nightgown was still pulled down to her knees. He had just rolled over to her in his sleep, an accident, she thought as she lifted his arm and slid out of bed. She turned around and he was looking at her but not seeing her. His eyes were tired and puffy and glazed over. He hugged her pillow like a child hugging a teddy bear and fell back asleep in two seconds.
Cuddy stood there, musing at how comfortable he seemed to be in her bed and with her. So…she was slowly but surely earning his trust. How interesting. She smiled at the thought. He was obviously becoming more at ease around her so maybe he would open himself up a little more soon. She noted how calm he looked; for once his features weren't knitted up in a knot of pain or anger. For the moment he was utterly and completely relaxed. Unable to help herself, even though she knew she might wake him up again, Cuddy padded back over the bed and sat down. Gently she stroked his temple, smiling again when his head turned into her touch. His eyes open again, this time focusing on her.
"Are you going to stay here all day?" she asked.
"I might," he muttered, his words thick with sleepiness. "Is that a problem?"
"That depends. What are you planning on doing here?"
"Nothing."
"That's not an answer, House."
"I wanna sleep. It's my day off and I wanna sleep in. My insomnia decided to take the day off too." Judging from the way his words nearly stumbled over one another and his droopy eyes, he was telling the truth. "Is that all right with you?"
"You don't need my permission to get some rest," she said. "Not if that's all you want."
"I want another one of those sandwiches you made last night."
"I'll leave one for you in the fridge. Okay?"
"Okay."
She thought about the full bottle of wine still hidden in her closet. If he wanted to get drunk, he could do it in his own place. "The rules still apply when I'm not here, House."
He blinked. "What?"
"You don't drink when you're under my roof."
"I'd be at my place if I wanted to," he replied stonily with a strangely blank expression. "But you and your hidden booze stash already know that, right?"
Maybe, maybe not. But there was something else she wanted to know. "So why are you here and not at your apartment?"
"To catch up on my sleep, and because I like you." He grinned at the hitch in her breath, then glanced at the clock. "It doesn't look good if the big boss is late. You should get going."
"I am," she replied, trying not to sound too stunned as his words rang in her ears. "Be sure to lock the door if you decide to go home."
"'kay," he muttered, cuddling with her pillow as he drifted off again.
Even though she was going to be late, she sat there for a while longer watching him sleep.
"Wilson will be back tomorrow," Cuddy reminded him.
He was concentrating on his solitaire game so he wouldn't have to look her in the eye and possibly give away the fact that he missed his best friend and the good times they had.
"I'm aware of that," House replied. "He won't be able to avoid me at the hospital and will actually have to say 'hello'."
"You should tell him you're sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"For what happened to Amber."
He placed a red queen on a black king and said, "That would be lying. Are you telling me to lie, Dr. Cuddy?"
"Don't you feel any guilt about what happened?"
"I'm sorry about what happened, but it happened. It could have happened to anyone. I'm not going to feel guilty about an accident."
"You should tell him anyway. You two need to talk to each other."
"I'm sure we will eventually. He'll be there tomorrow, right?"
One thing that always infuriated her about House was the way he kept his feelings bottled up inside. It was as if he purposely shut himself down emotionally; not allowing himself to feel anything so he wouldn't have to deal with his feelings at all.
"Do you always keep you and your emotions so blunted?" she asked.
"Only when my boss starts prying into something that's none of her business." He sighed heavily and overdramatically, then went right back to his game. "There's nothing I can do about it until tomorrow, so can we just drop it for now?"
The next day Wilson returned and handed in his resignation. House didn't come by her place again until Wilson's last day.
It didn't take long for all hell to break loose.
