She couldn't help but smile when she thought about the day they'd had. She was proud of House for taking such a big step and allowing himself to enjoy it. She could tell that his leg hurt more as the day went on but he never once complained. She wished he didn't feel the need to hide his pain from her and she hoped in time he could talk to her about it. She recalled her words that morning, that he'd let the pain dictate his life, that he had given in to it but she'd begun to reconsider those words. Today he had shown her that she was wrong. Though his pain had changed him and altered his lifestyle dramatically, he continued to fight it with everything he had.

So much that he faked cancer for a treatment that would help, she thought.

A tear escaped one eye as she realized how greatly she had misjudged him. While he had changed, become more withdrawn since the infarction, House had not given up, he was merely coping as best he could. She knew that he always found a way. He had always been a survivor. She knew she should be more supportive and understanding of his pain and his fight against it. She didn't know if he would accept her help but she would make sure he knew she was there for him.

She sighed and placed the empty glass in the sink. She padded down the hallway to her bedroom, turned on the lamp next to the bed and sat down. As she kicked off her shoes and began to undress, that's when it hit her.

She hadn't given him his jacket back.


Cuddy had been sleeping soundly when she was awakened by a loud noise. She sat up in bed, her eyes wide open. She glanced over at the clock. It was five forty-five and still dark outside.

With her phone in hand, she crept slowly down the hallway and stopped when she heard movement in her kitchen. Her finger hovered over the 911 button on her phone and then she smelled it.

Coffee.

She shook her head, annoyed at her confirmation.

"House!" She yelled entering the kitchen.

House, who had his head in the refrigerator, dropped something and turned around quickly.

"You scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you in my kitchen. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Umm...came to get my jacket back."

She leaned against the door frame. "Funny, I don't remember putting it in there," she said, her chin jutting toward the refrigerator.

"Okay fine, if you must know I came to get my jacket and thought you might like some coffee...and maybe breakfast."

That's when she noticed the plastic bags on her kitchen counter. He reached into them and began pulling things out. Eggs, syrup, tomatoes, mushrooms...she guessed he was going to make omelets.

"It's Sunday morning, you're on vacation. You should be sleeping in," she said.

"Sleep is overrated."

"Pain." She didn't have to ask, she knew. It never allowed him to sleep more than a few hours at a time.

"Yeah."

Realizing she might as well make herself comfortable, she sat down at the table in her kitchen. He filled a mug and brought it to her.

"Hello girls," he said looking down at her slightly exposed cleavage. She'd worn a tank top and shorts to bed and had only haphazardly thrown on her robe.

"You're such a pervert." She said, closing her robe.

"Party pooper," he said as he pulled out a cutting board, knife and other assorted items.

She watched him as he chopped ingredients. He was precise and focused. As always.

"House, you know you really didn't have to do this."

Without looking he replied, "I know I don't have to, I want to."

"You ever do this for Wilson?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"He wouldn't appreciate it. Besides Wilson had a sleepover last night."

"With who?"

"New ICU nurse."

Cuddy tilted her head in thought trying to remember the new nurse they'd hired.

"Large breasts," he said as if reading her mind.

That's when it hit her. "Her name is Kelly. I just hired her before I took off. How does he even know her?"

"I'm sorry...were you not listening when I mentioned those two large things in her bra?"

"You're disgusting," she sneered.

"Don't blame me, blame my gender," he shot back.

She sat there quietly drinking coffee and looking around the kitchen.

"I really should go do my yoga," she said, finally.

He looked up and frowned. "Seriously? Now you tell me."

She nodded.

"Can't you skip this morning?"

"I try not to miss a day."

"What's the harm if you do miss one? Dare to be different, Cuddy."

She scoffed. "Says the guy who wears the same clothes for decades and drives a twenty year old car."

"It's not twenty years old."

"Close enough. Look, my point is-"

He stopped what he was doing, threw down the knife and looked up at her, clearly frustrated. "Jesus Cuddy, I just thought it would be nice to cook you breakfast. Why can't you just enjoy it?"

She watched him as he spoke. She could see it meant a lot to him. It was true she rarely ever missed a day of yoga but once wouldn't hurt her. And it was nice of House to cook for her even if he'd broken into her house.

She waved a hand at him. "Okay, fine. Wow me with your culinary skills."

She could have sworn she saw him smile. She drank her coffee and watched him. As with everything else, he was precise and methodical in his preparations. He made the slicing and dicing of ingredients for the omelets and the graceful way he flipped the pancakes, without missing beat, look like an art. In no time at all, he limped over to the table sans cane with two plates of food.

Though she normally did not eat much for breakfast, Cuddy was exceptionally hungry after smelling the pancakes and she dug into them as soon as House set the plate on the table. She couldn't help it. They smelled so good.

"Oh my god," she said out loud and unashamedly after the first bite.

He smirked as he watched her. He loved the way her eyes closed, her throat moved as she swallowed, the way her tongue licked the syrup from her lips.

"God House, these are delicious."

"Of course." So are you, he thought.

"Who taught you how to cook like this?"

"Mom. When my dad was deployed, it was just me and her."

She raised a curious eyebrow.

"Is it so shocking?"

"You were close with your mom back then?"

He shrugged. "I guess." He seemed indifferent in his answer.

"I bet you were cute in an apron," she said with a chuckle.

"I never wore an apron."

"Mmm hmm...sure."

"Shut up and eat," he said.

Thirty minutes later, after House had made a second batch of pancakes, at her request, their plates were clean.

"God, I can't remember the last time I ate that much."

House raised an eyebrow and received an eye roll in return.

Cuddy pushed back her chair. "I'm going to shower."

"I'll just clean up and go," he said, as he rose from his chair.

"Why are you leaving?"

He looked at her.

"We're going out today," she explained.

"We?"

"Well, originally it was just going to be me but since you broke into my house-"

"I used the key."

"And since you're here, you are going with me."

"Where are we going?"

"Philadelphia. Japanese Arts Festival."

"Art?" He whined.

"It's not just art, House. It's many things...martial arts, dance, music. And before you say no, trust me that you will like this."

"How do you know?"

She shot him a knowing glance. "Because I know you. Now," she motioned with her hands. "Clean up this mess. I'll go get ready."

"I'll go on one condition."

She turned.

"We take the bike."

"House..."

"Come on, it's supposed to be a nice day today."

She thought about it. She had enjoyed the ride yesterday. Why not?

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay fine."

She headed down the hallway. She heard footsteps close behind.

"Dream on, House." She said with a throaty laugh just before she closed the bathroom door.

House smirked to himself, turned around and headed back into the kitchen.


Two hours later, they were sitting in the second row of the Center for the Performing Arts watching a martial arts performance. When it was over, everyone stood and applauded.

"That was just incredible," Cuddy said loudly.

House leaned over to her. "People think martial arts is about Kung Fu, the art of attack and defense. But it's not about fighting, it's just the opposite."

She looked puzzled.

"Find me a bathroom first then I'll explain it."

They sat in the lounge drinking tea and waiting for the next show to begin as House explained martial arts to Cuddy. He had given her a short history and explanation of it.

"So it's really about peace, not war?" She asked.

"Exactly," he said. "It's about improving the mental, physical and spiritual while at the same time polishing combat skills. It develops character and discipline. A true martial artist avoids unnecessary conflicts by all means and does not take combat lightly. Yet, when confronted by unjust threats, a martial artist will fight back with an absolute resolve."

"That is really fascinating. I had no idea." It never ceased to amaze her the depth of his knowledge about so many things. "Did you learn all this when you lived in Japan?"

"Most of it," he said. "What I didn't learn there, I read."

She smirked. Of course he did. She'd always known he was an avid reader and had an insatiable appetite for information.

"So," he said, gesturing to the program in her lap. "What's next on the agenda?"

They attended four more events that day and concluded with a performance of Prokofiev's sonata by a renowned Japanese violinist. Cuddy loved classical music and she sat enraptured listening to the young violinist. At that moment she looked over at House and smiled at what she saw. His eyes were closed and his head moved with the music. His lips were slightly parted and on his face, she saw a sense of calm and peace that she had not seen in years. So often she'd walked into his office at the hospital and found him laying on the floor with his headphones on listening to records. During those times he'd been neck deep in difficult cases and she knew the music relaxed him and helped him think. Music was a part of his process and she never disturbed him when she found him like that.

Sensing he was being watched, House opened one eye and peered over at her.

"Enjoying the view?" He asked.

"Oh, shut up," she whispered, gently smacking him on the arm.

It was just after eight o'clock when they exited the venue. They were on the bike and ten minutes outside Philadelphia the weather turned.

"Shit, I thought you said it wasn't supposed to rain," she said when they got to a stoplight.

"That was this morning!"

She looked around, concerned. "We're going to have to stop somewhere soon."

House nodded in agreement. "Just let me get us out of the city."

Fifteen minutes later, House pulled over at a small roadside inn. They managed to get off the bike and inside just as the rain came down.

There were two available rooms, a double and a king.

"We'll take both" Cuddy said, pulling her credit card out of her pocket.

House stepped in. "We'll take just the one with two beds."

"What?" She looked at him curiously.

"What if someone else needs a room tonight? Wouldn't want the poor soul to be without, would you?" He asked with puppy dog eyes.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You just want to share a room." Handing the clerk her credit card, she said, "Fine, we'll take the double."

After getting extra towels and a few necessary toiletries, they headed to their first floor room. Upon entering they turned on the light and noticed the glass doors on the opposite wall leading to a small patio. They could see the rain coming down in sheets outside while tree branches swayed angrily.

House tossed his cane aside and fell back on the bed farthest from the window. "Mine," he said.

"Do you mind if I shower first?" She asked, sitting down on the other bed and taking her shoes and socks off.

"Have at it," he said.

Feeling the chill, she went over to the heating unit and turned it on before going into the bathroom. He called for her from behind. She turned and he threw his button-up shirt at her.

"You can wear that."

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm guessing you'll want something to sleep in."

"Thanks." She threw the shirt over her shoulder.

While Cuddy showered, House turned on the television then kicked off his shoes and socks and laid back on the bed. He picked up a take-out menu from the table next to him and ordered Chinese then he turned the off the only light that had been on, leaving the room aglow with just the light emanating from the television screen.

He leaned back against the headboard, hands clasped behind his head, staring at the television but not watching, just listening to the sounds of the shower. Cuddy was just a few feet away, naked on the other side of that door. It did things to him. It made him feel funny.

He thought about the day they'd had. Once again they laughed and enjoyed their usual banter. He had to admit it was nice without the bitterness. He didn't know if being away from work had something to do with it but whatever it was he liked it. He just wasn't sure how long it would last.

While House reminisced over his day with Cuddy, she was in the shower doing the same. As she took her time in the shower, she was distracted by thoughts of House. It'd been a wonderful day and she wished it never had to end. He'd been so relaxed the past few days and she loved seeing him laugh. She liked this House and wanted to see more of him.

She stepped out of the shower and toweled off, wishing she had clean underwear. She slipped on her panties and decided to go without the bra, which wouldn't be very comfortable to sleep in. Picking up the shirt, she brought it to her nose and took in the scent that was decidedly him and she liked the warm feeling that spread throughout as she slid the shirt over her bare torso and buttoned it up. She looked into the mirror and nearly laughed out loud at how silly she looked in it. It practically swallowed her.

She entered the room and spotted him sitting on the bed watching the weather, a styrofoam container on a pillow in front of him.

"I ordered you the vegetable plate and two spring rolls," he said, through a mouthful of food. "With extra duck sauce."

"Thanks," she said, delighted that he remembered what she liked. She put her clothes on the round table grabbed her dinner from the table and sat on the bed with her food.

"You better eat it all because I had to pay the guy extra to get him to deliver in this storm."

"It'll be money well spent I assure you," she said. She sat Indian-style on the bed, with a pillow on her lap. She knew the shirt rode up her thighs, but at that moment she didn't care. She just wanted to eat.

House's eyes roamed the expanse of her bare legs then he watched her dig in. "That's it put some meat on those bones," he teased.

"Wait, aren't you the one always telling me how big my ass is?"

"Your ass is fine. The rest of you needs to keep up with it."

She rolled her eyes and took a bite of a spring roll.

"Oh my God, this is so good," she moaned.

House watched as she devoured the spring roll, licking her lips as she placed the last of it in her mouth. He felt himself get hard. Down boy, he said silently.

They ate in relative silence, broken only by occasional quips from House about the idiocy of the people doing the weather broadcast. When they finished, he got up and limped toward the bathroom.

"I'm going to take a bath. Wanna join me?"

She laughed. "I already showered."

"Interesting."

"What?"

"That wasn't what I asked."

"Fine. No House, I would not like to bathe with you but thank you for asking," she said, amused.

He bowed. "More room for me," he said. "You mind if I leave the door open?"

"Go ahead."

"Okay but don't peek," he teased.

She chuckled from her place on the bed.

House ran the water and when it was half full, he climbed in. The tub was huge and allowed him plenty of room to spread out. He let out a sigh of relief for the heat felt so good on his leg. He thought about the fact that only a short time before, Cuddy had been in there naked. His cock got hard again just thinking about it. He thought of taking care of business himself but it was risky with the door open and her in the next room. He sank down deeper into the water and closed his eyes.

Cuddy turned off the television and turned on the lamp beside her bed. She picked up her phone and scrolled through her messages and when she was finished, she picked up the trash from dinner and discarded it. Then, remembering a nightly ritual she hadn't done yet, she picked up the tube of toothpaste and one of the toothbrushes she'd gotten at the front desk. The mirror on the bathroom door reflected House in the bathtub. She could see him resting, his left arm hanging out and his head back against the edge of the tub, his eyes closed. He was relaxed. It made her happy to see him like that.

"House," she called softly from outside the open door.

"Yeah."

"You mind if I come in and brush my teeth?"

"Nope."

She walked in and turned left to the sink, her back to the tub behind her. She proceeded to brush her teeth and while she was leaning over rinsing, she looked up into the mirror and caught a wide-eyed House smiling and staring at her lecherously. That's when she realized her shirt was riding up and he could see everything.

"I do like black," he said, suggestively.

She stood straight up and looked him in the mirror again. "You ass."

"Actually I think that'd be you," he said with an obnoxious smirk.

She rinsed her mouth then turned and faced him, leaning against the sink. "I wonder if that thing about shrinkage is an old wives tale or if it's really true," she said with an evil smile. She pushed herself away from the sink and walked the few steps toward the tub, her eyes never leaving his.

"Hey, naked here!" He yelled attempting to cover himself with his hands.

She waggled her eyebrows. "How does it feel to be ogled?"

"You know...if you want a ride on little Greg all you have to do is ask."

"That you named your penis is very disturbing."

"Again, she deflects."

"Again, he's an ass."

She leaned against the door frame. "I think I'll pass."

"You used to know a good thing, Cuddy."

She turned and laughed over her shoulder. "Oh believe me House, I still do."

Nearly an hour later when he got out of the bath, he dried off and then limped into the room wearing just his boxers and tee shirt. He found Cuddy was already under the covers, her back to him. He assumed she was already asleep.

He hooked his cane on the nightstand, turned out the lamp and settled under the covers. He laid on his back, hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. It was difficult to focus on sleep with Cuddy in the other bed. He turned his head to glance at her, watching longingly as her body rose and fell with every silent breath. He had the urge to nestle behind her and wrap his arms around her and bury his nose in her hair.

House smiled to himself thinking of the physical closeness they'd shared lately thanks to their travels on his bike. It was one of the reasons he suggested taking it. Cuddy on the bike, snuggled up behind him, her arms wound around him tight, and her laughter that emanated from her whenever they took a turn too fast or when he suddenly gunned it and the wind whipped through her hair, was becoming one of his new favorite things in life.

House rolled over and rested on his left side. He wished he had the balls to confess his feelings. He'd always considered her to be the perfect woman. He had admired the things about her other men disliked, such as her need for control and her assertiveness and aggressiveness. He watched in awe as she took on insurance company CEOs, tough-talking lawyers, high-priced doctors and her own Board of Trustees. She was relentless, never flinching, and never backing down. She went toe-to-toe with him, never putting up with his crap, giving back to him always as good as she got. She was the only one who could handle him and he considered her his equal in every respect. It had been that way since they first met in Michigan and he respected and admired the hell out of her for it. As he let out a yawn and rubbed his tired eyes, he wondered why he'd never told her that.

Cuddy opened her eyes and stared at the rain coming down outside the glass patio doors next to her bed. She'd been in that state between wake and sleep where she was relaxed but could hear everything going on around her. She could hear House breathing, his sighs and the rustle of the covers as he moved about. She could feel his eyes boring into her. He had that effect. She always knew when he was watching her. She wondered what he'd think if he knew she was thinking about him. It was hard enough that he'd recently spent the night in her guest bedroom but now...in the same room. She only wished she had the courage to act on her them but she knew it would change everything. Of course everything had changed when they'd started spending more time together. But if things progressed, if they took the next step, there was np going back. This was the last thought that crossed her mind before her eyes closed and she finally fell asleep.


House woke a few hours later, needing to relieve himself. He sat up and rubbed his thigh then headed to the bathroom, stopping first to get the bottle of Vicodin out of his jacket. He did his business, washed his hands then took two Vicodin out of the bottle and set it on the counter. He filled a glass and turned off the faucet and just as he was about to take the pills, he caught the reflection of Cuddy's sleeping form in the mirror behind him. He tilted his head and observed her for a moment then looked down at the pills. After some consideration, he put one back in the bottle, swallowed the other and chased it down with the water.

He turned off the light in the bathroom, tucked the bottle back into his jacket and walked over to his bed, stopping first at hers. The rain had stopped and there was just enough of a glow from the moon outside to shed a faint glow into the room and onto her bed. She was so peaceful and serene, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He eased himself onto the bed and watched her sleep. Her bare arm lay there and he wanted to reach out and caress it.

He wondered if she had any idea what she did to him. Lately, he was the closest thing to being happy as he'd been in years and it was because of her. He loved being with her, he felt less pain with her, she made him want to be a better man. He wanted more of that feeling. He wanted more of her.

As if she sensed his presence, Cuddy woke suddenly. She turned her head and looked right at him. His face was partially illuminated by light of the clock radio on the nightstand. She rubbed her tired eyes and sat up quickly.

"House? Are you okay?" She asked, concerned.

"Yeah." He swallowed hard.

She tilted her head curiously.

"I had a good time today," he said, unexpectedly.

She gave him a sleepy smile. "Me too."

They sat there, gazing at one another, unsure of what to do next. In that moment, time seemed to stand still and neither of them moved or breathed. Finally, House leaned forward, slowly, reverently and without even thinking about it, Cuddy followed his lead. Her heart beat wildly as she met him halfway. In a moment of raw honesty and vulnerability, their lips brushed together and when they connected it sent a jolt through both of them that neither expected.

"Cuddy," he murmured softly against her lips.

"Right here," she said.

Cuddy moved her left hand to cup his jaw and caress his stubble as the fingers of his left hand tangled in her hair. Heads tilted, eyes closed. Warmth spread throughout their bodies as their lips met again. It wasn't desperate or demanding, but rather gentle and patient. They sampled but did not indulge, tasted but did not feast.

They parted slowly, both trembling ever so slightly. They were still close, their eyes locked.

"I probably should...," House said, breaking the spell as he nodded toward his bed without breaking eye contact.

"Yeah." She nodded.

House got up and limped over to his bed. Feeling suddenly warm, he laid on top of the covers. "Night, Cuddy," he whispered.

She pulled her covers up to her chin and rolled over facing him. "Night, House."


They got up early the next morning and stopped for breakfast at a local diner. They didn't talk about what happened the night before, what little conversation they had centered on the weather or the food interspersed with a bit of light banter. Their minds were preoccupied and the only thing either of them could think about was the kiss and as much as they'd wanted it, they couldn't find the right words to discuss it.

House pulled up in front of Cuddy's house just after eight-thirty. She climbed off the bike and looked at him.

"Thank you." She smiled at him and hoped he understood the significance of her words.

"You're welcome." He understood, all too clearly.

"I..." She started to say but couldn't get the words out. There was so much she wanted to say to him. Where had her courage gone? The best she could do was to look him in the eyes and hope she accurately conveyed to him what she could not express in words.

"Yeah." House nodded as if he understood. And he did. He wanted to respond but he couldn't seem to find the right words.

But they both knew at that moment, that everything had changed.

She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed it reassuringly then turned and walked up the sidewalk to her front door, never looking back as she closed the door behind her.

House sat there for a moment, the bike idling, as he watched her go into the house. When she closed the door, he backed the bike out of her driveway and drove off.