A/N-Hey Everyone, as always, thanks so much for the reviews and encouragement. In response to some reviews/messages: this won't be my last story, as long as I can come up with more ideas. I'm glad you guys like the regular updates, i thought it might be a bit much, so I'm really glad to hear it's working for people, it keeps me busy and out of trouble.

It is so incredibly frustrating to try to update when the site is down!

-Remember, as far as this fic's concerned, Season 8 didn't really happen…so my references to House's incarceration and Vicodin habit will be different than what's been seen this year.

Disclaimer: Not my characters…except Kate

Cuddy moved somewhat apprehensively around the room as she got ready. She chose a sun dress that was flowy and feminine but not too revealing. She couldn't help but wonder what, if anything, was going on between them and although she now understood more about his feelings, she wasn't exactly sure if this was a date or two friends hanging out. In one moment he was flirtatious, the next pushing her away, although his pushing didn't seem cruel, it seemed like self-preservation. Once she was ready she walked out of her room to see him sitting on the chair, long legs stretched out on the table in front of him. Her breath hitched for a moment as she walked over.

He stood to leave with her and she was amazed that he looked so incredible in his normal clothes. His jeans were relatively new, and his tee shirt wasn't wrinkled, his own version of 'fancy dress.' She both loved and hated the easy way he prompted a response from her: one look could make her heart pound, a few words said in just the right way sent tingles down her spine. She tried to convince him she was OK with casual sex, but she knew differently. She suspected days earlier that her feelings for him were redeveloping, but realized that, despite everything, the feelings hadn't ever really faded in the first place. Coming to that realization did nothing to temper the feelings, in fact, it only served to make them more palpable.

They sat at the table in the restaurant, quietly perusing the menu. She could tell he was nervous and less comfortable than he had been in the last few days. "Oh come on…relax," she said, "You and I have eaten together tons of times. This isn't different. It's just you and me."

He nodded smiling, "you're right."

"So let's talk"

He nodded, trying to think of something to ask. "Your mom still alive?" he asked.

"You can ask anything you want and you bring up my mom?"

"More piercing questions later…besides never a dull moment with Arlene…"

"True! I'm relatively certain she'll outlive us all. She's still around and critiquing my every decision…"

"How did she like your ex?"

"Umm…" Cuddy shifted uncomfortably.

"Just curious…after being a victim of her scrutiny, I'd like to know how others have fared."

"Initially…she liked that he was Jewish, then she met him…and she actually mentioned you the first time that she met him."

"Me?"

"Right, allowing yet another guy to question me on a regular basis about you and our relationship…nothing like planting some insecurities early on. It was really a very comfortable dinner. She still insists you are the only man that will ever put up with me."

"Even after I did significant property damage? That didn't…alter her perceptions of me?"

"She said that at least I found someone willing to take a stand."

His eyes grew wide as he looked at her, "Really? Your mom felt I was ...making a statement?"

"She felt it was a declaration of love...a…crime of passion. And that no other man was ever willing to risk life and limb as well as trouble with the law to express his feelings to me."

"God, I'm romantic…" he said, clutching at his heart. "So she wasn't at all concerned that you were in the building?"

"Oh, don't worry…had Rachel been home that night, she'd hate you forever"

He blinked, "I was like the son she never had."

"Right…chip off the old bitch," she laughed. "You know Rachel talked about you for a long time"

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her you were really sick and they sent you far away to make you better. She never went back to the old place…I didn't want her to see it. She stayed with my mom at a hotel until I could get us moved. I'd go back to the hotel at night, tired and…incredibly pissed at you…and she'd say, 'House coming back tomorrow?' or she'd talk about the damn monster trucks," she shook her head with disbelief.

"I'm sorry…I don't…"

"OK," she interrupted, "You are sorry for what happened after we broke up, I know this. We don't have to…hash it out anymore. I forgive you…it's…done."

He stared at her stunned, "that's it?"

"That's it. If we want to move forward…in any capacity, we have to let that stuff go. I hope that you can forgive me for hurting you, but it's not a condition for my acceptance of your apology."

"Consider it accepted," he still looked confused.

"OK, so it's accepted, but you're still thinking something that has your face all wrinkled up in the 'dissatisfied thoughts' expression you do so well."

"I've thought about this for a long time. Resentment, regret, hurt… the building blocks of any good relationship that you sustain with a person who isn't even there anymore. This has all been part of me for years. If it's gone…what will I think about?"

"I have a few suggestions…" she raised one eyebrow fleetingly.

He looked stunned but couldn't suppress a small grin.

"Sorry," she said, "I shouldn't have said that." She cleared her throat, "So…we were talking about Rachel and her infuriating memory for all things you."

He chuckled, "I'm sure it didn't take her too long to forget"

"I…honestly don't think she ever really forgot"

"Unlikely…kids that age wouldn't really remember"

"OK fine…I know about brain development and what kids are supposed to remember. She had this…picture of you, probably helped"

"No one has a picture of me"

"She did, I don't even know where she got it. Must have been my mother. Rachel would hide it from me. She was…sneaky. But she asked about you on an almost daily basis for an inordinately long time. Finally I was relieved when she stopped asking. Each day that went by I thought…OK…good, we are moving on. Because, coupled with all of the other feelings I was having, I was feeling bad for removing you from her…she…wanted to be near you. I felt guilty."

"Cuddy's love me. But eventually, she did stop…"

"Yea…and then one Saturday, I was listening to her playing in her room, and realized she had an imaginary friend…with a goddamn cane"

He chuckled, "is that an imaginary friend or a boogie man?"

She smiled, "I was so irritated. I mean, there were a few seconds there, I was standing by the hall closet, putting sheets away, and it was the first time I heard her mention this new friend…and I walked back there absolutely certain I would find you sitting on the floor with her. It really wouldn't have surprised me."

"That's…definitely interesting." He continued with an expression of innocence, "if she ever mentioned her imaginary friend watching you in the shower…I had nothing to do with it."

She smirked, "the kid liked you House. A lot. Everyone says kids are good judges of character. I didn't want to admit it at the time, but being around you…was sometimes good for her. She thought Matthew was…OK. Actually, I really think he bored her too. She would get this…look when he'd talk, her eyes would almost glaze over…it kinda reminded me of you. Because she'd…stare at him, eyes wide, and then sorta shake her head and turn and look at me and ask to go do whatever she could come up with instead of sitting there."

"You are talking about her…and smiling," he said without judgment.

She nodded.

"Truth?" he asked.

"Absolutely. Go ahead."

"Do you want to another kid? I mean…at some point down the line when some of the wounds are healed…you could easily adopt another kid, I'm sure adoption agencies would fall over themselves for someone like you"

She took a few moments to gather her thoughts. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he added.

"No, it's…a perfectly valid question. I just…think…I feel bad for the answer. I…don't want to. I love Rachel…in a way that I could never duplicate. I'm not saying I'm incapable of loving another child…I know I'm perfectly able. I think if I did that, it would probably just be an attempt to replace something I've lost, and it just can't be done"

"A very enlightened perspective"

"Plus…I'm sort of…crazy…"

He scoffed, "You…are not crazy"

"A little. I mean, I've spent my entire life…pursuing. It's the one word that seems to encapsulate me. Academic perfection, career advancement, creating the perfect hospital, motherhood, improved clinics...everything is a challenge. I put all of this time and energy into the pursuing and I never enjoy the benefits. I think…I want to stop."

"OK…so you are a little crazy. Kinda doubt you can change that part of you. Like I said…modest changes…shifts, sure, but removing entire identifying traits…eh… The driven part, it's an awful lot of the joy that is Cuddy. It's like completely removing my asshood."

"At least maybe slow down then…I mean…nothing's impossible. You quit Vicodin. How long's it been now?"

"2-1/2 years since the last pill"

"That's a long time"

He shook his head, "it is"

Their food came out and disappeared slowly as they seemed unwilling to forgo the conversation in favor of the sustenance.

"So, how'd you do it? Just a case of it being unattainable in jail…or…"

His body language tensed, and she could see he was less comfortable discussing this, but he continued nonetheless. "No…it wasn't unattainable in jail. They actually provided me with small regulated doses. You can tell you've never been inside," he said, in a somewhat theatrically criminal tone. "It…became a fantastic way to spend my time. Devising ways to find and get and take. It's boring in there, you need something to do. I had this…caseworker-counselor person…that suggested that I might do better with the parole board if I was able to be off of it completely. Which, naturally just pissed me off, and made me take more, until I got…too tired. The high became negligible, and it wasn't fun outsmarting idiots I'd outsmarted fifty times before…and I wanted to get out. I wanted to pick what I was going to eat, I wanted to feel like I wasn't watching my back every moment of every day…this may come as a surprise, but I didn't exactly make a lot of friends in there. They were nice enough to let me suffer through the worse of the detox in the infirmary. That was the worst part…and I think after going through it that time…I realized I just don't want to ever have to do that again…it hurts! Then I actually got paroled. I knew, one failed drug test, and it was back inside. At some point…it just took. There are times when I think about it, and I just try to remember to think through the next ten steps I'd have to take after taking it."

"It's really amazing, you are doing so well."

He poked his food, staring down at his plate. "I missed you. Even when I was angry with you, I still missed you," he fidgeted and tried to redirect, "I can't believe it…but… I miss…Wilson"

She smiled, "I wondered about that"

"Kate's great…she has helped me get where I am, and she is a good friend…but…there's nothing like your first."

Cuddy rolled her eyes giggling, "You could call him"

"I don't know if he'd talk to me"

"He would talk to you. He probably misses you too. I think he'd be pleasantly surprised to see how well you are doing. I get the impression that he always sort of pictured you setting up camp in a gutter somewhere and awaiting death."

House shrugged, "that was my second option after suburban life with a lesbian. I dunno…he has the wife and kid on the way, and I've always been toxic to his relationships."

"Umm…he's toxic to his relationships…you just didn't help. I don't think he'd even let you get in the way of this one. Consider it…I'll help if you want to see him."

After a few moments she continued, "Look," she said avoiding eye contact, "While we are discussing things…I just want to be upfront so you don't feel mislead. I still have…some…feelings… I know you don't want to get hurt…and…neither do I. I don't want you to think I'm just interested in using you for sex so I can be distracted…because…I'm not…and...I don't want you to think I'm turning to you because I'm lost…or sad. I mean…I guess initially I turned to you because I was sad…that was when I was looking for a bully…not a…umm... Anyway, if, at some point, you think maybe there is something left between us… God this is awkward," she said, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips.

He smiled but provided no direct answer. "Think it's weird that we keep ending up around each other?" he asked.

She thought for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe we are collectively too screwed up to be around other people. Maybe there's some…force at work that draws us together. Maybe some part of each of us secretly wants to get it right and we create situations where we give ourselves another chance…" she winced, concerned about his reaction.

"Maybe"

The bill came, which she took. They started to walk outside, when she stopped him, "Go ahead, I'll meet you outside. Restroom," she said pointing.

She walked away and he could barely fight the urge to follow her. No matter how good his intentions, they always had that attraction. He desperately wanted to bunch that pretty sundress up around her waist, rip the straps from her shoulders and have her quivering beneath him calling his name. He felt that way for decades, even when he had her as his own, he constantly wanted more of her. He never craved anything like he craved her.

He knew her uncomfortable admission of feelings must have been very difficult. So far she had been making all of the moves, and he was patient, his fear of loss and pain providing a buffer he could use to protect himself. As he thought about the fact that she not only had feelings, but admitted them, he was struck by how vulnerable she had made herself. His mind finally felt freed of some of the guilt and anger he had regarding her, and the fear lessened.

Once they were back at their place she poured drinks and found him swinging on the hammock. She moved to hand him his drink and he took both of them, placing them on the table next to him. "Hop on," he said patting the hammock off to his side.

She slid in next to him. He picked up one of her hands, holding it close to him, and started playing with her fingers, gently tracing the curves of each one between his as if he were trying to memorize the details of each digit. "I've been thinking about what you said…and the more I think about it, this…friendship thing is not working for me at all…to be perfectly honest, I'm not all that thrilled with the non-enemies arrangement either…"

"OK…" she responded nervously. "Where are you going with this?"

"I'm thinking the nuclear option..." he said, still tracing her fingers but turning his gaze to her face. "Hopefully something with more…non-verbal communication and fewer clothes."

Her shoulders shrugged with silent giggle, "OK…what about trying not to get hurt…"

"Avoiding pain is impossible. Attempting to avoid pain is my pattern. Which I was OK with." He finished his study of her long narrow fingers and flipped her hand up to look at the palm, which he now attempted to memorize as well, with long, deep presses of his thumb along the ridges on the skin. "I can guarantee you won't hurt me if I pack my things and go home, but I also guarantee I'll be watching Kate bring home girls, probably eventually settling on one girl, while I go to sleep alone." He fell silent for some time before continuing, his voice barely above a whisper, "She told me that I'm so hung up on you that I don't even consider the possibility of anyone else."

Cuddy withdrew the hand he was so meticulously learning and rolled onto her side facing him, placing the other hand against his upper stomach so he could catalog the shapes, ridges and valleys of that hand as well. "Is she right?"

"Maybe," he said softly, still staring intently at her hand. He stopped, looked over at her and took a deep breath, "probably."

"So this whole, naked, non-verbal communication option…how do we get on that plan?"

"Well," he said rolling his eyes, "It's complicated…I've reclaimed my virginity for religious reasons…"

She giggled louder now, "So I'd have to re-deflower you?"

"Yes, absolutely. You just have to meet the approval of my cult leader, convert, and be bound to me in an ancient ceremony involving antelopes and whipped topping."

"Intriguing," she responded looking thoroughly entertained, "I have the antelopes, but I'm completely out of whipped topping."

"And me without my cult leader…" he added, wrapping one long arm around her to pull her closer. "I guess we'll have to settle for oral sex until we find the supplies we need. The sacrifices I'll make in the name of my beliefs," he added with artificial piety.

"How devout," she replied sarcastically.

She tilted her face toward his, looking at his lips, and pulled her lower lip into her mouth. She gave him all of the signs that she was waiting to be kissed, but he calmly watched her. "OK," she said, forcing a smile, frustrated beyond words at his inaction but trying to allow them to go at a pace that was comfortable to him.

She shifted to get out of the hammock and his hand was on her arm pulling her back in an instant. A contented sigh emerged from her as his lips pressed softly but insistently to hers. The tentative, delicate nature of their previous brief encounters since reuniting seemed forgotten. He immediately deepened this kiss, pulling her flush against him. She reached up to stroke his face with one hand, the other running down his side to his hip. He was easily intoxicated by the feel and taste of her. His hand moved down the dip in her back slowly, enjoying the slope downward toward the small of her back and the gradual curve back up to her ass. His hand firmly grasped one cheek, pulling her even tighter against him, unwilling to leave any unnecessary space between them, eventually allowing his hand to move down to pull her leg up over his hip. He moved from her mouth kissing along her jaw line to the spot below her ear. She shuddered against him…an accomplishment that always left him feeling both proud and raw with desire.

"Why were you waiting," she moaned softly.

He answered with an unintelligible grunt.

"Were you just messing with me?"

He pulled his face from her neck and shoulder and looked at her, eyes intense and gleaming as he smiled, "Definitely…"

He ran his nose along hers and looked down to watch his hand move up along her side and linger right below her breast, trying to allow all of his senses the opportunity to appreciate the moment.

"Are you just messing with me now?"

"No way" he smiled, "but it is really hard to move in this hammock, so I think we should go elsewhere."

"We could…" she replied, moving to carefully straddle him and pressing her pelvis against him with one long sustained motion. They each groaned. "I want you so badly," she whispered against his lips, "but, are you sure you are OK with this?"

He nodded enthusiastically, "Oh yea…I'm sure."

He started gathering the skirt of her dress in his hands and working it up her thighs, dragging his fingers against the soft smooth skin of her legs. "What's that?" she asked suspiciously looking around.

"Nothing" he mumbled, unable to pull his attention from her.

"No I'm serious, what's that noise?" she asked, removing herself from the hammock, standing up and walking toward the kitchen.

He groaned, dropping his head back onto the hammock, "it's the sound of me whining"

He clumsily rose from the hammock, finding that removing himself from it was as frustrating as their current circumstance. He followed her to the kitchen and stood behind her, wrapping his long fingers around her hips and pulling her back toward him, his lips settling at the junction of her shoulder and neck. His plan of action was cast aside when he heard the sound of the downstairs door closing. "OK…that I heard," he said with concern.

He grabbed his cane as the only weapon readily handy, while looking toward the kitchen for anything else he could use. He whispered loudly to her, "Go into the bedroom and call the cops."

"No way! I'm not leaving you out here"

"Are you insane? Someone has to make the damn call, I'm not going to go back there and leave you out here alone!"

"No…no way, I'm not leaving you out here alone, especially when I don't know how many people are down there."

House stood over her, menacingly, trying to intimidate her into a retreat when they heard a voice behind them, "Get the hell away from her!"