A/N: Well, I've done it. I've finally written a House/Cuddy fic. For once in my life, I have truly no idea what the quality of this piece of writing is. I always have an opinion about my writing- I know when I've done good work and I know when I've done okay work and I know when I've done sucky work. But this time I just don't know. I feel vulnerable, but excited. Feedback is hugely appreciated.
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Abandon: verb desert; give up. noun freedom from inhibitions.
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It's late, it's an Event, it's escape to a quiet side room. It's refuge for two people who expected to be alone; two people who shouldn't have ended up this close to each other.
"House, I can't do this."
"Yes, you can. You won't."
"House-"
"You're making a decision, Cuddy. Like it or not, this is a choice. Look at me. Will you or won't you?"
"I can't- I don't know."
"Well, figure it out, Lisa, because I'm not going to play this game. Not with you."
It's a coincidence.
"This isn't right."
"Why isn't it right? You want to, I want to- what isn't right?"
"We just- it's unethical!"
"Unethical. We are two adults who have known each other for years. Hell, we're even sober."
"I know. That's the problem."
It's an accident.
"We'll both end up hurting, House. You're right, I am sober, I shouldn't even be considering this."
"And yet you are. What does that tell you?"
"That someone spiked my Shirley Temple."
"You're not drunk. You're afraid."
It's a potential opportunity.
"Here are the possibilities. You either have sex with me and regret it, or you don't have sex with me and regret it."
"What a dilemma for me."
"Yep, you're just stuck between a rock and a hard place."
"Please pick a different phrase."
"Fine. I've got you in between the devil and the deep blue sea."
It's a possible chance.
"I'll make it simple for you. The longer we stand here arguing, the more I want to fuck you. This has to end soon, Cuddy, so what I need to know is if it's going to be with you or a container of Vaseline. You're holding all the cards, Lisa. Now you have to play one. If you want to stick to your ethics and rules and forget we ever had this conversation, turn around and walk away."
A pause.
"If you want a night of fantastic sex followed by a fun several weeks of intense emotional trauma and uncertainty, stay. I'm going to close my eyes and count to five. One"
His eyelids come down.
"Two."
She turns to leave. This is absurd.
"Three."
Five steps to the door: one, two, three, four, five.
"Four."
Warm slender fingers meet cool thick door handle.
"Five."
He opens his eyes and sees unoccupied space.
A sigh.
A tap on the arm.
He turns.
She's there.
"Fantastic sex with a side of emotional trauma for two, please."
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It's a risk (out a side door, unlock her car)-
But a good one (his place is closer).
Is it worth it (two groans: "God-" "Yes!")?
God, yes.