Pick Me
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a House fanfiction of any kind. I hope it turns out as well as I hope. Set anytime after Cuddy's fertility treatments started but before the events of 'Joy.' Probably set around the time when she almost asked House to be her donor, but chickened out. *sigh*
***
Lisa Cuddy awoke to the warm sunlight falling over her face in the early hours of morning. Yawning, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and buried herself further inside her down comforter. This was the normal routine for her almost non-existent mornings off. However, her routine was interrupted quite suddenly when her soft hands brushed against the warmth of another body lying beside her. Freezing momentarily, she searched her mind for an excuse to this discovery. Finding none, she slowly turned to her side to face her…companion. As her eyes fell across the sleeping face of Dr. Greg House, the previous night's events all came flooding back to her memory.
***
Cuddy sunk down into her couch cushions, a stack of potential donor files in one hand, and a mug of hot tea in the other. She sipped slowly at the tea as she made her way through each file, studying all the details of each donor. Height, weight, hair and eye color, occupation, family history—Cuddy looked at it all. But as the pile in her lap got smaller, the pile on her coffee table grew larger. None of them seemed quite right to her. Maybe she was being too picky, or maybe, sub-consciously, she had someone already in mind; someone that couldn't possibly be willing to be her donor. Could he?
She was shaken from her thoughts by knocking at her front door. Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was quarter past midnight. Only one person could be willing to bother her at that hour. These suspicions were enhanced by the distinct sound of wood knocking against wood, and confirmed when she opened the door to the blue eyes of Greg House, cane poised in mid-air to knock again.
"What is it House? It's quarter after twelve." Cuddy asked, exasperated.
House looked down toward his shoes, in an uncharacteristic show of shyness and nervousness. He gripped the end of his cane a little tighter as he fumbled with the words dangling from his tongue.
"Pick me," he mumbled, almost in a whisper. He slowly brought his blue eyes up to meet her grey ones.
Cuddy only stared at him, unsure she heard him correctly. "What?" she whispered, just as quietly.
He spoke louder now. "Pick me," he said again, a little more surely of himself this time. "Let me be your donor."
Cuddy said nothing; only stepping back to let him inside, away from the chilly New Jersey night. He followed her inside, softly shutting the door behind him, and searching her eyes for any sort of confirmation that she had understood his words. There was none.
Her voice broke the silence. "Why?"
House sighed. "Because," he began. "None of those folders care about what happens to their 'donation' once it's gone. None of those folders," he gestures toward the stack piled haphazardly on her coffee table, "can give you any comfort; any form of security." He sighed again. "None of those folders lov…care about you." He stopped, suddenly wondering why the hell he'd come here in the first place. He turned and began to make a hasty retreat, already regretting opening himself up at all.
"Greg, wait." Cuddy's voice using his first name stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned back toward her, finding her grey eyes shining with unshed tears. She stepped toward him, resting a careful hand on his arm. "You really want to be my donor?" She asked, in a tone akin to disbelief. She stared at him expectantly, almost afraid to hear his answer.
"I…yes," he said simply. He reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it softly. Her eyes filled to the brim with tears, threatening to spill over. House traced small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb while she struggled to calm her emotions. He spoke again. "You…Lisa, you have done so much for me; so many things that I didn't at all even begin to deserve. And now I have the chance to give you something that you deserve more than anything, and I want to. I want to help you. But…I don't want to be a donor." He paused, taking a deep breath. She looked at him, confused, beginning to pull away from his touch. He gripped her hand tighter and pulled her toward him. "I…want to be a dad."
He blinked, and so did she, as tears spilled over, rolling down her cheeks with the speed of Niagara Falls. "You…you want to be a dad?" she choked out through her quiet sobs. His eyes began to shine as he spoke.
"I want to be the man my father never was. I want to be that man with you; with you and our child."
Cuddy smiled softly. "Greg," she breathed. He brought his hand to her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb.
"Cuddy, I…" he trailed off, unsure of how to say these words to her. She looked into his eyes, silently pleading with him to continue. He sighed. "Damnit. Lisa, I love you." And with that, his lips crashed down upon hers; two bodies pressing themselves together, emotions reaching the surface and spilling over into the atmosphere. His cane clattered to the floor and he held her to his chest, her hands clutching the front of his jacket. He bit softly at her lower lip, running his tongue along it. Her lips parted, giving him permission to continue. Their tongues tangled together as his fingers tangled in her hair. She pushed his jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor beside the already abandoned cane. His fingers trailed down her back, tracing the hem of her shirt before sliding softly underneath to the soft skin of her back. Feeling the ever-increasing need for oxygen, she pulled away, reluctant to break the kiss. She rested her head against his chest as he held her to him, resting his chin against her head and reveling in the warmth radiating from her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Stay," she whispered. He nodded against the top of her head, sighing softly. She pulled away from him, and tangled her fingers with his, gripping his hand. She bent down to retrieve his cane, handing it to him, before leading him to her bedroom.
"Damn Cuddles. If I had known this is all it would take to get in your bed, I would have done it years ago." Cuddy chucked softly.
"Shut up House." She lightly smacked his shoulder. He smirked before bending to kiss her softly again.
***
Cuddy lay awake, silently studying his sleeping face, trying to memorize each and every line. Wordlessly, he reached out and draped his arm over her hip, pulling him toward her. She curled against his chest, as his blue eyes fluttered open to meet hers. Smirking, he leaned in and kissed her nose.
"Stop staring Cuddles and turn off the damn sun." House's groggy voice broke the morning silence.
Cuddy laughed, moving to get up and shut the drapes. House pulled her closer.
"I was only kidding. Leave the sun on—makes your eyes sparkle." He shrugged, almost shyly.
Cuddy only smiled and curled in closer to his warm body. Yeah, she could get used to this.
-Fin
***
Author's Note: Well, there it is folks. My very first House fic. :] It didn't turn out TOO badly, I don't think. House did get a little OOC, but I tried to reel him in a little. I do think, however, that House does have the capacity to act this way if he really means/feels what he is saying he does. And obviously, in this story, he means every word. Lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. And, by all means, feel free to review. ;]