Reality began to set back in and Cuddy wasn't ready for it, so she pulled the sheet over her head and tried to block it out. She concentrated on the swirls and dots dancing behind her closed eyes, not the patter of the afternoon rain waking her up and discarding the wonderful dream state she was riding on, the large waves curling and crashing into the beach. The air had a strange mixture of scents–rain and sweat and sex and perfume. The sheets and blankets were burgundy, not her sheets.
She was convinced someone was watching her.
"I know you're awake, lover," drolled a husky, familiar voice. "Ready to rejoin the land of the living?"
"Do I have to?"she said as the world swam back into focus, and grinned as he pulled the sheet down and locked into her gaze. "Give me about five more hours."
The stormy day made the afternoon look like late evening, everything covered in muddy light and long shadows. It almost made her laugh to think it was still summer. It could have been November for all the lousy weather told her.
"Why, Lisa, if I didn't know any better, I'd have to say that I wore you out."
"You're an animal," she snickered. " There, I said it. Are you satisfied now?"
"Immensely. Maybe it's time to tell you that when you're sleeping with someone, you're not always sleeping. You miss out on the fun part if you're asleep. I was going to keep that a secret, but–"
"Oh, is that why you're an insomniac?"
"It's as good a reason as any."
"Can't argue with that."
"No, you can't, especially when the best sex you've ever had makes your brain all fuzzy. Right, Lisa?" he said with his trademark smirk, watching her intently while riding on what was left of his own blissful waves.
"Typical male. Crowing about your manhood again."
"You were crowing about it just a little while ago–"
"Greg..."
"Yelling out my name. I love that–"
"Enough!"
"I hope the claw marks on my back don't leave any scars."
"I do. They'll let the world know what's mine," she said, and caught the surprise in House's eyes. She gave him a quick kiss before he could make a smart-ass comment and added, "I don't know about you, but I've certainly worked up an appetite."
"Nothing fancy for lunch, boss," he told her while watching her get up and hunt down the Jack Daniels shirt. He noted with quiet amusement that her hair was frizzed all to hell. "The pie is for dessert, not an afternoon snack."
Cuddy rounded up his jeans and shirt, tossing them at him like a softball pitcher. "Bread and water is fine with me. I just need some food."
"How about PB&J and milk? I don't have any of that crap soy fake artificial milk," he said, pulling on his jeans. From the corner of his eye he noticed she was watching his every move. He smiled and looked up. She didn't blink. "Can you handle a glass of real moo juice, boss?"
"One won't kill me," she answered, waiting with infinite patience as he grabbed his cane and limped over. "Make me a nice sandwich and I'll make sure the steaks don't burn."
"Fair trade," House said as they walked to the kitchen.
Two sandwiches each, and they ate in a friendly silence. Both were hungry and the chit-chat wasn't all that important. After a while, there were a few words here and there about trivial things: movies, co-workers, the price of gas. House found the milk moustache on Cuddy's upper lip oddly endearing. With her disheveled hair, baggy shirt and half-empty glass of milk, she looked twenty years younger. A brief scene flashed through his mind–Cuddy as teenager, giggling with her friends at sleepovers, gossiping about boys. No way of knowing that their paths would cross one day, and many days after that. Occasionally karma could be a fabulous thing.
Soon nothing but crumbs remained on the plates and the glasses were empty. Rain pounded on the windows, turning the outside world blurry. The wind whistled and the faint rumble of thunder rolled in. The perfect day to spend inside from dawn to dusk.
"Anything else, lover?"
"No, thanks. That was yummy," Cuddy said, gathering up the dishes and clumsily stacking them in the sink Her mind too preoccupied to think about rinsing them. A few dirty dishes wouldn't throw the universe into chaos.
"Peanut butter makes the world go 'round," House informed her, relaxing back into the chair while mindlessly tossing the cane from hand to hand.
"If you say so." She frowned slightly at his enigmatic statement before reclaiming her spot at the table. "Well, we still have plenty of time before dinner."
"So we do," he replied with badly feigned disinterest.
"Lots of time on our hands."
"Time is on our side."
"That's true. Are you ready?"
"Ready for what?"
Cuddy trailed crimson painted toes up and down his ankle while glaring with pure wanton lasciviousness. "Round two. What else?"
