Hello everyone!
Apologies for the disappearance. As some of you may know, I'm moving out of my parents' house in a few days; plus school has been pretty hectic, so really there hasn't been any time for me to write (or read, for that matter - if I haven't read your latest fic and I usually do read them, it's still in my inbox. I'll get it to it eventually. Be not afraid. :P) But I'm confident that things will slow down a bit in the upcoming weeks!
In the meantime, here is a new drabble for you. It's set at the end of 2.17 "All In" (you can thank the Monday night re-runs - again!), and it's just cute and fluffy. I hope you'll enjoy it! Thank you for reviewing. Thank you for reading. I'll see you guys soon!
42. Wow.
Out of the tail of his eye, House saw Cuddy walk into her office and shut the blinds behind her. Knowing she'd had a long night, he assumed she would be in there for a while – presumably sprawled on the sofa – and took the time to finish his poker game with Wilson in the lobby.
He turned out to be right, as usual. When he opened the door, he found Cuddy sitting on the sofa, her hands clasped across her abdomen, and her feet resting on the coffee table with her shoes lying beside her – she was tired, but she'd still bothered to carefully and properly tuck them away. Her head was tilted back and her eyes were closed. She didn't open them when she heard him come in.
"What a night, huh?"
"What a night," he agreed.
"Congratulations on your diagnosis, by the way." She opened her eyes when she heard the ruffling sound of him taking off his suit jacket. "Wow."
Her eyes roamed across his silhouette, from his broad, strong shoulders tucked into a crisp white, ironed dress shirt, to the hint of sternum she could discern thanks to his opened collar, his defined, thin waist and long, muscular legs that she could conjure up from her memory. Standing up, Cuddy walked to him, tucked her thumbs into the waistband of his trousers, and gently tugged him towards her. He played along, resting his hands on her waist. She was bare feet and their height difference didn't surprise him anymore.
"How do you look better dressed down than up?"
"You didn't notice until now?" He couldn't resist running his hands across the soft velvet covering her torso. The dress was skin-tight, like she had been poured into it.
"I was pissed at you. And after that I was worried about Ian."
"How about you?" he challenged her. "Do you look better dressed down than up?"
With a seductive grin, Cuddy took a step back and reached to her flank to pull down the zipper of her dress. Without breaking eye-contact, she gracefully shrugged off the straps and let her dress fall to the floor, revealing that she wore nothing underneath.
"What do you think?"
He smirked. "Wow."
"Go lock the door. And kick Wilson out of your apartment already," she added when he turned away.
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mistress."
"You never spend the night anymore," she lamented as he turned the key. "I'm feeling neglected."
"Don't worry. We're going to remedy that right now," he said as he tugged on her arm, and dove for her lips.