A/N- I know there's lots of things people want to see…some will happen, some won't, but, I don't want to give away anything…so that's all I'm gonna say for now :) There's more on the horizon, they've only had a few weeks together in this story's time, but decades of history.
Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed: JLCH, lenasti16, Kirey, ClareBear14, IHeartHouseCuddy, grouchysnarky (nice to hear from you, I'm glad you're reading!), berenice, Jane Q. Doe (I wore my bright green bandana for St Paddy's and reveled my little heart out), TheHouseWitch, Bakerstreet Blues, Josam, RedTulipAna, sin101, Abby, Alex (Thanks so much…although I have a feeling that in a few years, when I have to write about how House and Cuddy were looking for a new spot to have sex at the Old Age Home…you may beg me to stop haha!), HuddyGirl, limptulip, bonneiyy77, BETEDELSTEIN, dmarchl
thanks for your time and words everyone!
Disclaimer-I don't own the characters of House, MD
When he went back to wake her, he found Cuddy sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out of the window, already fully alert and dressed.
"Been awake long?" House asked as he sat down next to her, leaning back, his weight braced on his hands behind him.
"Not really," she said softly. "You keeping this place?"
"For now…yes. Down the line…I don't know…probably. Are you OK?"
"Yea…here we go," she said, in a sing-songy voice, forcing a smile, anxious about the degree of reality that was about to set in for them.
"Here we go," he responded, trying to look more collected than he was.
"I got a call this morning, from one of the doctors who is filling in for me. It's not going well at the clinic."
He nodded his head in acknowledgement and squinted, "Which means?"
"I'm going back to work. I'm not going to use the rest of my leave. It's time to just...do this"
House sighed, "OK. I thought you were hanging out with me for a few days."
"I know"
He looked down, feeling somewhat rejected and uncertain.
"We're postponing the inevitable at this point. It's time. We can't hide from this forever," she said softly. "I'm worrying about what may happen, or what we're going to do...and I can't stop thinking about it."
"OK," he answered, not sounding any more certain. This leap ahead was far more drastic than he had hoped to deal with at the moment, but he had to agree with her assessment: They couldn't hide forever.
His apartment was soon returned to the state it was in when they arrived. He picked up the key from the desk, and looked over the place from a spot by the door. When they stepped out into the hallway he locked the door and returned the key to its hiding spot.
After packing the car, yet again, they were driving. In a short while, he would be back at work and she would be back in her clinic. Things would be back to the way they were a month ago. At least partially.
She'd no longer be completely disconnected from herself, they were still a couple, these things were vast improvements.
"Wish we were back at the old hospital?" she asked.
"Eh. Not sure. This weekend. We're going to meet up?"
"I'm counting on it," she responded.
"My place or yours?"
"Yours. When I get done on Friday, I'll head over. Or…" she said with a smirk, "we could say…forget it all, run away."
He smiled at the fact that she was entertaining the fantasy of ignoring reality.
"So you pick," she said, "where are we going so I know what to pack?"
"Tahiti," he answered, "Pack nothing. I can take up painting, you can model for me…sleep in hammocks on black sand beaches feeling the breeze off of the ocean."
"Nice choice," she commented, resting her head back against her seat lost in thought.
She began to see signs along the highway, signaling that it wouldn't be long before they arrived at Penn Hospital. "So about hammocks…" she said.
"Yes…"
"What would you think about planning a trip back to the Outer Banks? We could stay down at Ann and Wilson's? Maybe in a few weeks…celebrate our success at a medium-distance relationship."
"Yea, that sounds great," he answered, wondering if they'd still be celebrating after a few weeks.
"Good, now we have something to look forward to when the next few days are miserable."
He pulled the car off onto a side street shortly before the arrived at the hospital and put it in park. Moving quickly, he had both of their seat belts unlocked and pulled her over toward him in a seething kiss. His hand on her hip pulling her toward him, got the same physical reaction from her that it always did. That simple touch, his hand surrounding her hip, one thumb across the front-outer ridge of the bone, fingers the whole way around her to the back, brought forth imagery and feelings from some of the hundreds of times they had sex over the years. It was all part of the possession he took of her that made her feel like she didn't have to be in control for a few minutes. Somehow, she knew he could take care of everything, she could completely trust him. So strange that she always trusted him more in physical intimacy than she ever did with her feelings…until their most recent meeting.
As always, he had a way of making her forget where she was, or anything else that was pertinent, except her need for him. She moaned needfully and he felt himself being drawn too far into his own need for her. He slowed his kiss to smaller touches along her lips. "Let's go somewhere. I want you, now," she said between kisses.
"Good," he smiled as he pushed her gently back into her seat and drew the seatbelt across her body to latch it before securing his own.
He began to drive calmly to the hospital, "Where are we going?" she asked, delicately stroking his arm.
"I have to go to work, you know how it would destroy me to be late."
"Kinda risky having sex in your office at this time of day, isn't it."
"Definitely"
She smiled at his daring until he said, "That…is why we aren't going to have sex in my office"
"Hunh?"
"Want to finish what we started?" he asked.
"Obviously," she replied emphatically.
"Great, consider it my insurance policy…or maybe a down payment. Your ass better be here this weekend"
She smiled, "I'll be here."
"Time to make some money and discover the things that will save lives!" he said in sarcastically dramatic fashion as he pulled up in front of the hospital, "or at least discover things that are gonna make someone unbelievably wealthy."
She walked around to the driver's side. He got out of the car, grabbed his duffel and leaned down to pull her into a hug. "Talk to you tonight?"
"Definitely," she answered. "I'm really going to miss you..."
He half smiled at her, "Me too. It'll be fine"
"I know," she answered, hesitant to let go of his forearms, which she clung to possessively.
"I gotta go. Good luck today," he said, as he broke free of her grasp and turned toward the building, looking up at the tall structure and feeling it looming unpleasantly over his head.
"You too," she said, before closing the door to the car. She watched him disappear into the building and said out loud, "it's only a couple of days…this is no big deal…just…relax."
The valet at the main door, positioned there to take cars for patients too sick to park their own, smiled at him when he walked in, and he sneered at her, as was their daily ritual.
"You back?" she asked, scowling.
"No, but I'll call you when I am"
"How are you doing you smartass? Just like that bratty son I raised!" she said.
The woman was strong, confident and completely unwilling to take the snide remarks and condescending behavior of the wealthier, snobbier patients who seemed to think that being courteous to her was beneath them. House was completely fond of her. She said what she meant, and never let herself feel like she was inferior to anyone.
He began talking to her casually enough when a very successful surgeon snubbed her friendly welcome one morning, learning later on that the surgeon was her son. Having been accustomed to being snubbed from friends and strangers alike, he felt a sense of unspoken camaraderie with the woman.
He walked away, ignoring her until she said, loudly enough to be heard by those around her, "Son, you get that grouchy white ass back here and answer your mama!"
The comment got the same looks it always got from those walking past who were always confused by how the tall, fair-skinned, sloppy white guy would have a tiny, black, prim and tidy mother.
House loved the looks and reactions that they received when she'd try to embarrass him like that. "Mama," he groaned like a whining child as he trudged over to her with a broad grin. "I'm fine, Celia, you?"
"I saw you out there with that woman. Just goes to show, there is truly someone for everyone…even an ugly bastard like you," she smiled.
He smiled back, "Not bad, huh?"
"Not bad at all. She too good for you?"
"Of course"
"Good…you keep thinking that way, treat her like she's too good, and you won't mess it all up."
He smiled, "That…is remarkably good advice…from someone as aged and senile as yourself."
He started to walk down the hall and heard her call after him, "Gimme her number. I need to make sure she knows you're too good for her too"
House walked down the hallway, remembering the last time he was here, and she was with him. The strangest thing was, having her there, in a place she clearly didn't belong, felt completely natural. He thought that perhaps he should have felt like it was an invasion. That having her in his space compromised his privacy, but he knew he liked it.
He scowled as he got on the elevator, opening his wallet to get out his card to access the secure lower areas of the hospital. Silly romantic notions crossed his head, and he was at odds with whether he should find them sweet or nausea-inducing. He was having this discussion, more a battle within himself when he realized that next to him in the elevator stood two of his student assistants.
The students watched with interest the conflict within their grouchy and somewhat mysterious boss. His expressions changed, even his body language and affect, but the entire argument was wordless.
There were rumors about him here. Legends and myths really, about where he had come from and what he had done. There were rumors about what he did on the weekends, and the things that went on in his office.
At PPTH his actual behavior provided the fuel for some of the thoughts and beliefs about him. His actions there, encouraged most of the rumors, although his reputation was still aggrandized by the whispers and stories told by gawkers. At Penn, it was more his inaction and the lack of information about him that fueled some of the mythos.
Of course, his boss, Altland, supplied the initial set of information to the staff. The Dean didn't give Altland a choice when he chose to hire House in the research department. Altland knew of Cuddy and was well connected with upper and middle-management levels at hospitals along the east coast. Everyone knew that Cuddy was the person insane enough to hire House. Not only did she hire him, she kept him, she defended him, repeatedly, not only legally, but against the insults of others who felt he was more trouble than he was worth.
House disliked the way they lacked respect for her, seeing her association with him as a flaw, when in reality, it showcased her strength. He also realized that part of his affection for her had to do with the fact that she was willing to associate with him, was willing to accept derision and accusation on his behalf. Few people did that for him.
Of course when she invited his insanity into her personal life, the higher-ups' rumor mill went into overdrive.
When Altland was forced to take House onto his team, he was among the first to spread rumors, hoping that the uproar at the hospital about a convicted man, particularly one accused and convicted of an act of violence against a woman, would cause a groundswell of support which would preclude House from keeping the job. Strangely, most of the hospital didn't care.
When Altland approached one of the most ardent feminists in the hospital, a well-respected department head, she looked at him calmly, "Thanks for the info, I'll be sure not to date him," she said calmly, disliking Altland's rumor mongering before he even got into the meatier portions of his argument against House.
When Altland began to protest, she added, "Look, he's got to work somewhere. Here, he's away from patients, he's buried in the cellar. Besides, if he does anything suspicious, they'll fire him so fast his head'll spin."
That was the moment that Altland's dislike of House became hatred. The fact that people dismissed research as being somehow safer for the likes of House, that the work in the basement was less important than the work in the remainder of the building, angered him beyond words. House's arrival each day was living proof that Altland was less respected, his department, less important than the others.
The two students who rode the elevator with House scurried away as soon as the doors opened. He felt there was a certain freedom in having a reputation for being a complete jerk. It meant that he didn't have to work at establishing a reputation as such.
When he opened the door to his office, Altland was waiting inside. "Prodigal son returns," Altland said dryly, "Forty-five minutes late!"
"Does that mean you're not going to slaughter the fattened calf…what about a slightly pudgy chicken?"
"We're behind, I talked Lawoti into coming back"
"After the way she left? Completely without consulting me, you hired her back?"
"Actually, I'm hoping to groom her to be your replacement," Altland smirked.
"I'm fired? I don't think you can fire me for taking my vacation days."
"No, you aren't fired, yet. I'm figuring now that you're hanging around with your old boss again, it's only a matter of time before she comes to her senses and you go off the deep end."
House smiled disdainfully.
"Two new studies on your desk. Get moving on them. And you owe me forty-five minutes at the end of the day. Oh, one more thing, Lawoti's sharing your office from now on. Have a nice day."
House watched Altland leave. At least when Cuddy nagged him the view was better, he thought.
The next few hours weren't any better. Lawoti had a desk inside his office instead of in the small work room outside of it. She was smug, knowing that Altland was just looking for an excuse to fire him.
After solving one real case for Wilson, the research that had once kept him mildly entertained was now loathsomely boring.
He looked at his watch, realizing that a mere 12 hours earlier he was sleeping in his comfortable bed in the familiarity of his apartment, with her resting calmly next to him. A couple of hours earlier than that, he was dragging a soggy Cuddy from the tub into his room. Just a short time before that he got to feel like a genius again.
A few weeks earlier he sat in that same desk, before she came back into his life, feeling content, but largely as if the best times were behind him. He went to work, did his job, no longer feeling that he excelled at much of anything, but he was staying out of trouble. He was dully comfortable, he too, on mute, much as Cuddy was, although not to the same degree. He had that taste of being alive again. The taste of a challenge, an intellectual puzzle, of sex that was truly exciting, of a woman who was complicated and difficult and actually had real feelings for him.
He got to be a lover and an asshole and a genius, all of the things he truly enjoyed being, able to tease and cajole and irritate…and now he was in the basement, staring at numbers and case studies, seated across from one of the people he respected least in the world.
At three, he decided to go down to the cafeteria and grab something to eat.
He was irritated. He was irritated with his job, and the fact that Lawoti was smirking at him from across the room all day. He was irritated because Cuddy didn't call. He was irritated that it bothered him that she didn't call. He was even more irritated when he thought about whether or not it was time for him to call her. The thing that irritated him most of all, was when he looked down at his phone and saw that she sent him a text message five hours previous that he didn't realize she sent.
'Made it back to the clinic. Miss you,' the message said.
He thought for a few moments while waiting for the world's slowest cashier to ring out his food. He finally responded. 'You miss me? Are you touching yourself?'
He was surprised when her response came through quickly, 'Of course. It's not easy to keep up with the 8-10 hours of sexual gratification I require daily.'
He smiled at the text, easily picturing the look of sarcasm on her face, and appreciating that she was still frisky. When she was like that she was always fun and he had assumed the frisky part of her would disappear the moment she was back to work. In his mind, he imagined this caricature of her, smiling happily, a glutton for punishment, at the return of stress and obligation behind the desk at her job.
He decided to ask the question that he was certain he knew the answer to. 'Glad to be back?'
'Not in the least,' came her answer as he grinned happily, selfishly thrilled that she wasn't excited to return to her normal life.
'You OK? You wouldn't believe my day' another text came from her.
House wanted to go see her. He wanted to leave without a word or a clue of his intentions, leaving behind a sea of confused coworkers. Something about her, combined with his distaste for his present job, made him want to throw everything away. He couldn't help but feel hopeful, since for once, he wasn't running to avoid something, he was running to embrace it.