11

He had played a little piano and gone through some of his childhood pictures. He had called Wilson in his office to let him know he was back in Mayfield. He had asked him not to tell Cuddy if he happened to bump into her. It wasn't that he was vain enough to actually do her the surprise of showing up on her doorstep, but well, he was really. He wanted to be there when she got the news, if only for the reason that her face at that moment would tell her more about how she felt for him than anything she could say on the phone. Wilson told him to wear his baby blue shirt, the one that really made the blue of his eyes stand out. Honestly sometimes House wondered about Wilson's sexual orientation. But then he himself was the man who was going to follow his best buddy's clothing advice to pay a visit to the woman he had an interest in –he couldn't get his head to saying he might love her–so who was he to talk. They had chatted easily, laughed and mused about the turn events would take in the next few days both in the sentimental and professional areas of House's life. House had half-jokingly declared to a somewhat alarmed Wilson that if things with Cuddy didn't turn out he would move in with Wilson. It had been a joke of some type but House was really terrified at the idea of finding himself alone again. Cross that out, he was really terrified at the idea of things not working out with Cuddy. Truth is he'd rather spend the rest of his life alone than with anyone else. Was that really him thinking? Did he really see himself spending the rest of his life with her? If they could keep up the bantering and the power struggle and add great sex, then yes, certainly. Deep down House knew that more than sex, what he really wanted tonight was to make sure she didn't just see him as a physically and emotionally damaged man who had just spent two months in a mental institute. Pity was definitely not a turn on. He had decided to be honest and sincere with her. He had nothing more to offer to her than what he was. What you see is what you get. He planned on laying everything out for her to take it or leave it. That alone was a scary thought, never mind what he would do if she decided she didn't like what she saw. How was he to find the words? How could he make her understand he wanted her without sounding needy? How does one bare his soul?

As he put on his bike jacket and checked himself in the mirror one last time –the shirt really did wonders for his eyes– he felt like a child again, a small blond child about to jump in the deep end of the swimming pool.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

Cuddy had come home to her little girl and spent a long time baby-talking to her. She had always promised she wouldn't be that kind of mom, but Rachel was just too cute. There was plenty of time to tell her about what life was really like anyway. So she had lain on the rug by the little girl and had echoed the tiny squeals of delight and the ohs? and ahs? of puzzlement as her daughter inspected her toys. She was quite fascinated by the way the toddler looked at things. To her, everything was brand new. It made Cuddy quite nostalgic.

After she had put Rachel to bed and finished her supper, she poured herself a nice glass of red Bordeaux wine and went to her living room, sliding Springsteen's last album in the CD player and reclining back in her couch. She sat there listening to the music and drinking small sips of wine. It definitely wasn't the best Springsteen had ever done, and yet she was touched by the way he talked about love and time. "Honey you're my lucky day, I've lost all the other bets I've made" was a line that really got to her. And then of course there was the " I've waited at your side, I've carried the tears you've cried, But to win, darlin' we must play, So don't hide your heart away". She liked young angsty Bruce better than 60, happily-married and slightly corny Springsteen but she had to admit there was a certain someone to which she would like to sing those lines.

She must have dozed off for the next thing she knew Bruce had sang his way to one of the last songs of the album, "Surprise, surprise". She wasn't quite sure what had awoken her. Had she really heard a knock on the door, or was she just obeying Bruce's words of "Surprise, surprise, surprise come on open your eyes and let you love shine down"? But then she heard it again. There was definitely someone knocking at her door. There was only person whom it could be. Suddenly her heart was racing and she found herself opening her front door, not even taking a second to marvel at the Boss's exceptional timing.

Hehe what a cliffie! So I hope you like it. I'm a huge Bruce fan and my hometown is beautiful French Bordeaux, so you know where this is coming from :) I hope none of you feels like I've been dragging this Huddy reunion for ages. Truth is I don't really know what to do with it. I fear it might be the end of my fic coz I don't want to write plain Huddy fluff and yet I don't want it to be the end, I've enjoyed writing a lot... I can see why the writers won't give us Huddy really. Can't blame them, although I do feel like strangling them after seeing the season 6 preview. Anyway. I'm not quite sure when I'll post the next chapter, but do not fear, Huddy believer, your patience will be rewarded.