"What did you do to my kitchen?" Eyeing the restocked fridge and steak marinating in a tray, House's suspicion, and hunger, grows.
"You had no food, I just got a few things when I was out."
"Milk, bread and butter, those are 'a few things'. Garlic and thyme are not."
Raising her eyebrows, she pokes him in the chest, "Do you want me to cook you dinner?"
"You can cook? Could you be any more perfect."
She smiles, "Nice try, but not good enough."
He cocks his head at her, "Then what is good enough?"
Stepping forwards, she tilts her head back, looking up at him, "Kiss me."
"Ok." Hand in her hair, pulling her close, lingering for a moment before letting their lips meet.
Smiles, both of them enjoying the togetherness, tongues intertwined for just long enough to satiate her need. His forehead presses down against hers, eyes shut.
Nodding a little, "Better. " She shivers in his arms, "Why is it so cold?"
"I believe it's called winter. Happens every year about this time."
"Ha ha. It wasn't this bad a few weeks ago."
House shrugs, "Life's a bitch and now my leg hurts."
She pats his side, "I'll get your vicodin."
"Good girl."
Her voice floats from the bedroom, "Call me that again and I'll break you."
He shouts back, "Of course, that does nothing to dissuade me."
She moseys in wearing a giant-sized Johns Hopkins sweater and his pills, offering him one, which he takes graciously. Eyes track him as he takes a sip of water and tosses the pill back.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"You have proven most proficient at question-asking so far."
Ignoring him, "Why did you say no?"
"Since when have I said no to you. You go to party town whenever you feel the need."
"I mean when I first said I liked you."
"You want to know why I said no four years ago?"
"All the times."
"Do you have a list? That'd make things a lot easier for me."
"House, you liked me then. You still said no. "
He turns away from her, "Why do you want to know? You think I have some ulterior motive for this?"
Frowning, "Of course not. I just... want to know." She reaches out to touch his arm, but he shies, limping into the lounge and grabbing his jacket.
"I'll be back in an hour." The door shuts behind him, the sound of his cane thumping the steps outside as he walks. Looking out the lounge window, she frowns, already worried, his bike wet, the road wet, the clouds so low even the air is wet. A degree colder and there would be snow on the ground. The bike rumbles, roaring as he accelerates down the street.
Driving soothes his mind, but not his leg. He's low. Wilson will give him what he needs, and the advice he doesn't want to think he needs.
"How would I know what you should say? I don't know why you said no in the first place." Wilson's eyes rolled, "I would have begged."
"God you're pathetic."
"And you aren't? She asks a reasonable question and you come running to me."
"Hello, I needed vicodin. She still thinks I take too much."
Wilson scoffs, "You have a drawer full of vicodin. The only reason you needed more is because you didn't want to go home. I'm still amazed you left her alone. She's probably erasing all your episodes of The L Word."
"Wilson." House's eyes were heavy, stuck to the ground, sighing heavily, "I don't have a good reason."
"Just tell her that. Tell her you were an idiot, she'll like that."
"Oh god, why do I bother."
"House, just tell her the truth. And tell her how you feel now."
House sceptical, Wilson honest. House nods, stepping out.
Feeling him approach before she hears the bike, she is waiting on the steps, looking through the misty snow. Glancing at her he smiles, she looks ridiculous. His oversized slippers look like yeti snowshoes on her feet. Combined with sweatpants and his varsity sweatshirt she looks more like his daughter than his... Something. Girlfriend sounded strange, made him feel strange.
"House, hurry up, it's freezing." He does as she asks, swinging his leg over the bike, pulling his helmet off, avoiding her eyes, holding his cane defensively as he hobbles inside. She follows, closing the door.
He shrugs his jacket, pouring himself a scotch, downing it and pouring another.
Her eyes follow him, moving closer, "House, talk to me."
Curt nod, "Ok. I said no for a lot of reasons." She moves closer, sitting, taking his left hand in hers as he sits uncomfortably.
When the silence is unbearable, he continues, "I thought... It would have been cruel. You didn't need to deal with my crap."
She frowns, but her eyes well with sorrow, "Don't you think I could have decided that for myself?"
No answer, "I didn't know how to handle it. You're sickeningly sweet, practically my polar opposite. I..." he drinks, "You just wanted to fix me. Then you'd lose interest." Her fingers curl against his.
"Do you still think that?"
He shrugs, "I don't know. Maybe. All I can do is hope that you don't." His eyes flick to hers, then away, fear in his eyes, "I'm in too deep now. I... care too much." They both know what he almost said. It might as well be etched in his stony brow.
His agitation is stirred by the pain in his leg. She gives him another vicodin, he mumbles his thanks even as she pulls him close, cradling him in her arms. His hair is scruffy below her nose, tickly as she kisses him, arms wrapped around him, squeezing, wanting him to know.
"I love you," she feels him stiffen, leaning in to kiss his cheek, "You know that right."
His nod is minute.
"Then stop worrying." Lips, soft against his stubble. Turning his head, he kisses her back, unable to vocalise, crushed by her overt emotion.
They sit comfortably, watching the snow whip and whirl, the world awash in the foam of a lost ocean. Night falls on their December.
Author's Note: It took about 2 hours to get from "I love you" to here. It's so frustrating, given how kind Calliope, Thalia and Erato have been recently, to all of a sudden be left floundering for a path, let alone the words to walk it with. That aside, thank you all for the kind reviews. I hope you all continue to enjoy the story. Updates may get lax over the Christmas period as I will be travelling and spending time with family, but I will try and find time to write something, though that something may not be a part of this specific world. Peace and love.