Chapter 4 - Back in 1989

...

House opened his eyes again on a green-eyed pretty woman in a blue uniform and white coat.

He could have slept a few minutes, or hours as far as he knew.

"Is there something I can do for you?"

House opened his mouth but no words exited and just exhaled slowly then shaking his head almost imperceptibly.
Everything span. The room. The bed he laid in. Everything.

"House, you sure? Er... another blanket? Water?"

House. Not 'doctor House'. So someone he knew well, or better, someone he was supposed to know well.

Now... Wilson, the oncologist, was his best friend... Foreman was the black guy... Taub was the short one... and this one had to be the one called "Thirteen".

Nice girl. Magnetic green eyes and a nice mischievous smile. Too bad his head was still throbbing and he felt like a bus had run over him. Well, actually it was more or less what happened.

"Vicodin?" She played.

Yeah... he knew nothing about himself but he had discovered he was a grumpy bastard addicted to oppioids.

"I've already had my dose" He succeeded in whispering as the young doctor smiled and nodded.

He looked at her as she reached for his intravenous drip and checked it. He stared at her watch, partially hidden by her white coat but not enough for him to see the hands. Half past seven. P.M. probably.

"Anything else? Ice? Ice and Scotch?" She pronounced the last three words like a waiter in an elegant restaurant, clearly in a joking and confident tone.

Well, at least he hadn't become one of those boring and formal boss then.

"Ice" he replied nodding slightly.

"Fine, I'll go for the ice then" she said turning and heading to the door.

She stopped there though and turned to him again with a mischievous look.

"Anyway," Thirteen said nonchalantly " , uhm..." she gave him a smut look, shaking her head like someone who missed a chance as House just lifted an eyebrow "You're a fucking lucky bastard!" she added with a smirk " She's hot!"

-/-

# His fingers slowly run along her side, from her shoulder to the side of her breast and even down, along her flank and then her hip. They stay there a couple of seconds, drawing a pair of circles on her skin and then running the same road from the bottom up, tracing the line of her collar bone.

It's weird... or better unexpected. And it turns in surreal when his head turns toward hers and his lips linger on her hair. It's not really a kiss, but they brush it in such a way that his warm breath is enough to make her shivering.

He doesn't speak, but his hand reach for the sheet still twisted around their calves, pulling it over her body, apparently unconcerned that it's not long enough to cover completely his instead.

She stretches her legs to meet his naked feet, out of the blanket, and entangles hers with his as a smile plays on her lips and she abandons herself at the warmth of that hug #

"Tell me it's weed" House's voice said loud enough to awake Cuddy from her thoughts, pointing at the packages she still held against her chest "Or Cocaine. LSD. Booze at least. "

For a moment Cuddy just stood there, silent, on the door of House's hospital room, holding a few packages in her hands.

She wondered how long he had been staring at her, since he seemed deeply asleep when she had come there, and she hadn't noticed he had opened his eyes till he had called for her attention. She couldn't help but smile at his contagious mischievous smirk. Faint and mischievous at the same time despite his tired features.

"Sorry. Just some ice" She replied with a smirk, approaching his bed and heading to the night stand .

"Don't you have your minions for this, Doctor Cuddy?" He asked in a teasing tone despite his still weak voice, stretching that doctor and following her move with his eyes "Or have I to think I'm a special patient?"

She couldn't prevent the smile which formed on her lips but she didn't answer, just resting the ice packages on the night stand, giving him her back. She knew he was still staring at her, or better, at her ass, and one of the corners of her lips curled up at that thought, forcing her to bite the flesh of her inner cheek in an attempt to prevent that smile from growing wider.

Even with a broken skull and half his memory he hadn't lost his good habits.

That consideration was enough to lit up the smile she had tried to fight as soon as she turned to meet his mischievous gaze.

"Dr Lisa Cuddy," he repeated, this time just for the pleasure to hear that qualification before her name "Mmmhhh, it sounds cool"

Cuddy rolled her eyes this time waiting for some sort of unpleasant appellative or maybe just for him reminding her that despite her degree and specialization she wasn't a real doctor but just a parking -lot assigner.

"I got you pass that test then" he said instead with what was a clear conspiratorial look "What was it? Liver segments? Aortic vessels? Cranial nerves?"

He gave her a smutty glance on those last two words and she had to make an effort not to let her memories take over.

She held his gaze like just her could do in front of his mischievous look, this time having really a difficult way not to blush though.

Her anatomy test. A life-time ago.

They both looked into each other eyes as the images from a College campus came in front of Cuddy's eyes again, like on an old postcard.

# 1989.

Large T-shirts and tight pants. Big golden rings in the lobes and wild curls.

"I can't do it!"

She loudly closes the illustrated volume in front of herself sighing and hiding her face in the palm of her hands.

What the fuck! How is somehow possible to remember all that stuff. Right now it's just a confused mix of bones, vessels, nerves and muscles twirling in her head... and her text is just in a few days. There's no way she can do it!

She sighs loud enough to gain a glare from the girl on the next desk, obviously upset by the sudden noise which has broken the deep silence of the library.

She opens the illustrated volume again trying to focus on the images in front of her eyes and imprint them in her mind. Yeah, maybe visual memory can work!

Fuck! No! It's probably just because of too much tension but she just wants to cry.

C'mon Lisa! It's just aortic vessels for Christ sake!

"Prostitutes cause super super red testicles lumbering into my cock"

She gives a start, suddenly turning her head toward the voice behind her shoulders. Annoyed eyes meet the piercing and teasing blue eyes intently looking at them, then they roll and give a glare.

"You're disgusting" She says, trying her best not to feign indignation and not to blush at the bare thought of how his cock could look in all its glory.

Greg House is the most interesting guy of the campus. Not a boy anymore since he's seven years older than her. Defender in the lacrosse team and a senior in medical school. She's instead just an auditor, or better, an infiltrator in his Endocrinology class.

Another glare and she tries to ignore him, just focusing her attention again on the book in front of herself.

Yeah, it would be easy to focus if he stops to stare at her so intently she can almost feel his gaze warming her skin. Well, maybe because it really warms it. She can feel her cheek begin to take fire, with or against her will.

Fuck, she can feel his smirk too! He's gonna make fun of her! What does she expect, after all! He's a legend... and she's just a freshman.

"Prostitutes cause super super red testicles lumbering into my cock" he repeats, obtaining this time a sigh as answer from her.

With a quick move, he takes the pencil from her topknot making her curls fall on her shoulders and begins to write on her book in capital letters.

"What the f-"

Words stop in her throat more for incredulity than scorn as those words appears upright on the white board of the page.

Prostitutes

Cause

Super

Super

Red

Testicles

Lumbering

Into

My

Cock

She can't say if she's more embarrassed because of the profanity he's writing or because of his arm practically wrap around her shoulder.

His look is serious. He points with the pencil to every capital letter. And repeats.

Prostitutes... P... for Phrenic. Inferior phrenic artery. Below the diaphragm.

Cause... C for Celiac trunk. Directly off the aorta.

Super... S for Superior. Superior mesenteric artery.

S. Suprarenal. Middle Suprarenal artery.

R. Renal artery.

T. Testicular (or ovarian obviously) artery.

L. Lumbar artery.

I. Inferior mesenteric artery.

M. Middle sacral artery.

C. Like Cock (he specifies like she hasn't noticed)... for Common iliac artery.

She bits on her lower lip to avoid herself from chuckling and looks up at him. She tries again to hold back that chuckle but her attempts fails as soon as she meets his mischievous and satisfied piercing gaze.

She smiles, shaking her head as he just stares at her and puts his pencil on the book.

"Believe me, you're not gonna forget them" he whispers in her ear, sending a shiver through her body till her lady parts.

Then he leaves, and she continues to look at his back till he disappears beyond the library door #

"So?" House asked again awakening Cuddy from that memory "What'd you get in your test?"

Cuddy didn't answer and just shook his head with a slight smile which didn't reach her eyes.

"I still owe you a beer," she just said, "but for now you can just have ice"

House just nodded as she turned to take the ice packages from the nightstand. He still knew her enough to know she wanted to change the subject.

He didn't speak nor complain, not even when she helped him to lift his back from the pillow, sitting up a little. He let her unfasten his hospital gown and check the purple and violet tinges of the bruises right over his left ribcage. He hissed as she placed the first ice pack on it, grimacing and letting out a groan he couldn't repress despite his attempt of.

His eyes stayed closed a few seconds, like if he was trying to focus on something else than pain or maybe just waiting for the strength to hide it from her. Unsuccessfully, obviously.

"That bad?"

A useless question honestly. Her gaze turned serious and worried and she checked on him as he just stared at the ceiling with the blank look of someone who is hit by a white hot pain which take they breath away.

"I'm gonna give you some morphine,"

She immediately said reaching for his drip.

"Or an orgasm" He gasped instead, intercepting her hand midair and intertwining his fingers with hers.

"I'm not sure endorphins would be enough right now, House"

A smirk played on House lips at Cuddy's reply and he chuckles, ignoring how that move made his ribs hurt even more.

"Funny," he succeeded to say despite the pain still writhing his features "you haven't said 'no' though"

As an answer she just rolled her eyes, evading his gaze with the excuse of taking a vial from the chart in the back of the room and then pumping some morphine in his vein.

"How can you do this?" House's weak voice said as soon as he could speak again.

"Doing what?" She asked, returning his curious look with a questioning one, then looking down at the vial still in her hand "Don't worry. I know it seems weird to you, but I've been making this job for fifteen years," she added with a soft smile as he just stared at her eyes.

"No," he shook his head, not averting his eyes from hers though "I mean, twenty years and you're even more beautiful. If this is somehow possible"

She just stared back at him but her lips parted, only sign she had heard him.

Beautiful?

She couldn't remember House calling anyone 'beautiful'! Least at all... her! Hot at most, but... beautiful? Really?

Cuddy bit on her lower lip, shaking her head in turn and letting out a chuckle.

"Am I that funny?" he asked as she shook her head and nod in what was a sort of no and a yes at the same time "It's not nice to laugh of a poor amnesic patient, Dr. Cuddy".

"No," she gave him an awkward smile "It's just that I'm more used to, well... a creative big range of insolent and smutty adjectives about my boobs, butt and clothes. Beautiful is not in your...er... usual vocabulary, House"

His eyes darkened despite the smile and shrug she gave him, like he was trying to focus on his deep memories, unable to catch them anyway.

"So, or I'm an idiot for having let you go away or I'm an idiot who behave like an eight-year-old, pulling a girl's braids just to get her attention back" He said in the most natural tone, like someone who was just stating facts better than analyzing himself "You sure I haven't had an head trauma twenty years ago?"

They exchanged an awkward look and she looked down, swallowed and then looked up at him again.

"Well, technically you didn't let me go away. You left. In the middle of the night, like a thief, honestly" she replied in a teasing tone, more to keep things on a light level than to dig up the past.

He nodded, giving her a score-for-you look, even if she could bet he held back another one of his so out-of-character 'I'm sorry'.

"It's ok," she gave him a sort of smile despite the way in which her stomach still twisted at that memory "there were no promises, no expectations, no-"

"-no room in your bed. I froze my feet" he joked despite the weak tone of his voice as she rolled her eyes this time, then locking eyes with him again "I'd say 'Next time, my place', but I suppose I'm a bit too late".

Her lips parted...

Next time? My place?

What was all this about? She had spent almost twenty years convincing herself it had been just a one-stand. A insignificant one-stand. Nothing more... nothing else...

Who's this man now? Who's this man who can say out loud that he is in love with her? ...who can say 'I'm sorry'? ...who can plan a future? ...even more, who'd like to plan a future...with her.

She was aware this was just a sort of weird limbo... soon, he would have forgot everything about the last days. Puns and innuendos would have replaced his love declarations and everything would have been like usual. And yet-

She was so lost in that steel-blue she didn't see it coming.

One of the corner of his lips curled up and his hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her down toward himself as his mouth found hers. His stubble tickled her upper lip and her lips parted, both in pleasure and disbelief at the overwhelming contrast between the roughness of his beard and the soft and warm touch of his swollen lips.

His eyes still lost in her mesmerized and transfixed and entranced look.

He didn't kiss her. Nor really at least. His lips just brushed hers in a soft caress, lingering on that intimate contact and savouring the warmth of her breath.

Oh my God...

She tried to step back, parting from his lips as his head moved toward hers instead trying not to lose that contact.

"You really make me lose my mind," he whispered on her mouth as her lips parted, her eyes still locked with his.

She couldn't help but swallow at those words, looking away in an attempt to hide her discomfort. She straightened her back a little and let out a sort of nervous chuckle.

"It's not me, House. It's the head trauma" she replied, meeting his eyes again and trying to sound playful, unable anyway to prevent her cheeks from blushing.

She could always stand him... why couldn't she now? Why it was easier to stand his rude side than his soft one?

She patted the back of his hand, trying her best not to seem upset .

"Am I only House, now?" he teasingly asked "the God Greg I remember was pretty better, you know?"

She rolled her eyes unable to stop her neck from reddening though.

"I'm pretty sure it was at most a God -pause- Greg "

"I'd say a God -moan- Greg rather" he teased again "but I'm just an amnesiac guy"

She shook her head slightly and smiled, running her tongue on her lips.

"There're so many things you don't remember right now..." She said as he didn't seem to pay heed at her words.

"I remember making love to you, Lisa" he replied as she couldn't help but trap her lower lip between her teeth this time.

... Making love...

It had been sensual, passionate...and yet sweet and caring but... she had always thought about it like... having sex. Nothing else. Nothing more.

She swallowed, bringing two fingers between her eyebrows and massaging that point then taking a deep breath, taking a step back either and leaving his hand.

... I'm sorry I didn't call you...

She couldn't keep those words away from her mind. Twenty years... and yet she felt again like that trepidatious girl. She had chased him for months... the Endocrinology class... the party...

"I remember what I feel for you. I know what I feel for you"

His hand found her cheek and his eyes moved from her lower lip, once again trapped between her teeth, to the blue of her eyes. Her pupils dilated as his thumb caressed her flashed skin and her lips parted, finally releasing that lower lip of hers.

Blue eyes stared in blue eyes. Dilated pupils in dilated pupils.

Then Cuddy suddenly looked away.

"It's been a lifetime ago. This is not real, Greg " she said covering his hand with hers in a reassuring way.

He looked at her but didn't reply, then just giving her a little and somehow unconvincing nod as the medication pumped in his vein finally worked and he began to feel the heaviness of his eyelids.

"Just rest" she said softly. Her hand was still on his and House's fingers lightly moved to give her a weak squeeze.

"Is this what you do?" he whispered in a low tone in his last attempt to fight morphine "Drugging your partners for having your way with them" he didn't open his eyes or probably he couldn't but one of the corner of his lips curled up a bit.

"You remember you don't need to drug me to get me high, do you?"

Her lips curled up in turn, shaking her head at his tenacity.

She felt House's fingers giving up to the drug and the grip of his hand on hers loosened.

"I remember it's the only way to shut you up" she whispered with a tiny smile watching as his features relaxed in turn and he definitely gave up to sleep.

She stood there in the silence of the room and bit on the inner flesh of her inner cheek, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.