Chapter 11 House's Apartment

Several hours (and the completed packing job) later, House sat at his piano, playing one of Mozart's requiems. Despite his attitude, the day's events weighed heavily on his mind. He hated the chaos threatening the hospital proper (especially since he wasn't the cause of it for a change). Guess they know everything, don't they? Who's crying now, guys?

Almost in response, the gray overcast finally opened, spilling its watery guts onto the people and landscape below.

"Perfect," he groused, hitting the keys with more enthusiasm. As the lightning crashed outside, he sought to purge his feelings or rather the guilt he did feel for that woman in the ICU. There should be reciprocity but if I screw up, I could get fired before I even start. What a load of crap! Hate to say it but on that one, Cameron's right. Reality really bites.

As he considered that point, her words echoed over and over in his head.

"Damn it! Anyone else?" he growled at the ceiling while stopping play.

On cue, an insistent knocking came from the door.

He rolled his eyes. "I really didn't mean it!" He stalked over to the door and flung it open.

Cuddy shivered in his doorway. The downpour had left her soaked to the skin; her hair plastered to her scalp and shredded her umbrella.

"Fancy this," he remarked dryly. "Didn't your Mom ever tell you not to play outside when it's raining?"

She rolled her eyes impatiently at him. "I…was con…con…cerned…. ACHOO!"

"Eww!" He winced, frowning at her.

She sniffled and stared sarcastically at him. "Unless you don't want me to catch cold, that won't be the…last….ACHOO!"

He shook his head but knew what he had to do. "Get in here!" he instructed gruffly, slamming the door behind her. "Where's your car?"

"In the guest lot…CHOO!" she replied punctuated by Sneeze Three. She peeled off her coat and hung it on the hook.

As she did so, he couldn't help looking at her.

She sighed. "House, quit it!" Then she sneezed again. "Tissues?"

He grabbed the box and handed it to her. "Sorry. Basic masculine instinct. Hate when that happens."

"I'll bet," she retorted, not buying the apology but letting him off.

"Look, we need to get you out of those wet clothes," he started with a straight face.

She arched her eyebrow at him. "House."

"Oh for Pete's sake! I have a t-shirt and some sweats in the bedroom. Will they work for you?" he inquired sarcastically before heading for the bedroom. A minute later, he came out with the clothes. "Try not to drip all over."

She expressed dryly. "I'll try. Thanks." She headed into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Great," he groused, feeling weirded out by this whole experience. This had been the first time there had been a woman in his apartment wearing his stuff since Stacy. All at once, he started to feel the baggage again.

Coming out of the bathroom, she noted him tensing up. "What's wrong?"

"Forget it. I don't need a Susie Freud right now. Where are your clothes?" he declared.

"Hanging over the tub. Heaven forbid I drip on the tiles," she cracked. "Look, House, I promised that I wouldn't try to fix you or anything. But this is about Stacy, isn't it?"

"It's that obvious?" he asked.

"Greg, it's as clear as the nose on your face. You're hurting. So deal with it." With that, she pulled him toward her and into a deep passionate kiss.

"Thought you weren't going to try and fix me," he reminded her.

"I wasn't. That was for several reasons. First, thanks for the dry clothes. Second, for the support out west. Third, because I've wanted to do that to shut you up." She grinned at him. "Remember there are people out there who care…." She let the sentence hang purposefully.

"I suppose," he relented. "But then again, there are those dark Evil Queens of Numbers who have fallen away from the light. What if I were to try and redeem one?"

She sighed, looking anxiously at him. "What if that one didn't think she was worthy?"

He frowned. "What if she promises to try if he promises to hang in there with her?"

Taken aback by his total releasing of his guard, she scanned him to make sure this really was House talking to her.

"Well?" he queried. "Limited time offer, Cuddy. Take it or leave it."

"It won't be easy on either of us but I'd love to," she accepted, sticking her hand out.

"Cripe, Cuddy, this ain't a business deal!"

"Handshake first then we'll see what happens," she insisted.

He rolled his eyes as they shook hands. Then he pulled her into an embrace, sealing the deal with a kiss of his own. "As you said, we'll see what happens." He arched his eyebrows up and down. "Have you eaten yet?"

Her stomach growled.

He chuckled. "Apparently not. I was going to get some Chinese. How's that grab you?"

She smiled, feeling glad for the shelter, clothes and now, food. "It's great…provided you pay."

He snickered, knowing that was just the type of thanks he was going to receive. "Typical," he teased while sitting down on the couch. Getting on the phone, he dialed in the order. "I'll make sure I keep the receipt."

"Do that," she agreed while sitting down next to him.

Much to his surprise, he didn't pull away but rather, drew closer to her….