American Woman
House was lolled awake by the famous guitar lick to Guess Who's American Woman. He smiled and listened to Benji hit each note perfectly. He momentarily wondered if the kid could sing. Turning his head to the left, his smile widened.
"Good morning, House," Cuddy whispered.
House laughed, "if this is a hallucination, I'm going to shoot myself." He meant that, too, but decided to say it as a joke. That was usually best.
Cuddy rolled her eyes, "always jumping to drugs. Sit up, I have professional duties, you know."
House looked at the clock, "are you just screwing work for the next few days? Wait, am I just screwing work for that next few days," the thought was marvellous and plausible, as it was already past ten. The hospital's administrator was generally required to wake up at a very gloomy six o'clock. She was either not going to work, or was going to be very, very late.
Cuddy nodded and continued smiling. She sat up and looked at House, waiting.
House moaned like a little kid, "can't I eat first? How would feel if you were being all doctor-like and I starved to death?" He didn't wait for an answer and slowly crawled out of bed. He popped a vicodin and grabbed his cane. Cuddy followed in his wake to the kitchen.
"Don't you think that might scare the kid?" Cuddy whispered, nodding at House's burns. The dressings hid them almost completely, but not entirely.
House smiled and gave her a very distinct once-over, "what about your little get-up? Little revealing, don't you think? They have an age-limits on strip-clubs for a reason, you know."
Cuddy gave him an oh-real-mature face and hit him lightly on his good arm. She had to admit though, the guy made good pancakes. Benji stopped playing and sat on the couch next to House and Cuddy. House still hadn't told her.
"Where'd you learn how to play that?" Cuddy asked between delicate feminine mouthfuls.
"House dreamt about it. At least you kept one promise," he shot House a look. House just stuck out his tongue.
"What did I dream about?" House was the most curious person in New Jersey, and Cuddy definitely ranked top four. She also hadn't changed her position on sitting in silence with House.
"A llama farm."
Cuddy slumped slightly. She had hoped it would be something very intelligent, but she didn't remember so it was probably about a stupid llama farm. Benji just laughed.
"Just kidding," he said, "you were on the beach, lying in the sand. No one else was there, even though it was an absolutely beautiful day. You were wearing the same as what you are now and you were humming something I didn't recognize. A canary was on the end of your toe, singing along. He was absolutely perfect and had the brightest blue eyes. And you kept humming and he kept singing, for hours. Do you remember your dream, House?"
The kid was focused, like this was important, so House answered promptly, "no, haven't remembered any since you got here."
Benji sighed, "I think that's my fault. I think when I listen to people's dreams, I steal them."
"You realize we aren't even anymore, right? You owe me the equivalent of…a bunch of dreams."
"Yeah, and I'll pay you right back as soon as you fulfill your promise!" Benji snapped.
House burned to fulfill his promise. Every time she came to close to him, every time he looked at her, and especially when her delicate fingers brushed against his skin. Every second of the day, as they watched TV, ate, played music, or simply laughed, he burned to tell her. He laughed at the irony. Cuddy was an American woman, but he wanted to see her face every second of every day for the rest of his life.
Guess Who - American Woman:
American woman, stay away from me
American woman, mama let me be
Don't come hangin' around my door
I don't wanna see your face no more
I got more important things to do
Than spend my time growin' old with you