Hang(over) II

By Jules

T+

4/5

A/N: This story feels freakishly AU. Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

Synopsis: Aftermath of 5.23. Sequel to Hang(over).

"Are you hallucinating too?"

Cuddy smiled wryly. "I'm of sound mind, House."

"Is Culver blackmailing you? Maybe Wilson! That dog…"

"I think we should move in together."

House shifted uncomfortably. "Why? I may have missed out on my Must Be Anal courses in college, but I'm pretty sure the board would never force you into something this idiotic."

"No, but I am responsible for you and your actions."

"Says who?!"

"The board. Unanimously."

House looked away, smiling stupidly despite himself. "Cuddy, you can't control me."

This she knew. But that wasn't her style, had never been. When she wanted something from him, she never went through him but around, sideways, and backwards again until he had no choice.

"No, but I can watch your every move and dive in front of you before you have another train wreck, getting us both fired."

He narrowed in on her. "So your job is on the line. The truth behind the lies."

"Only because I fought for your job in the first place. I didn't have to do it," she answered smugly. She hated having to justify her actions. That's why she was the boss, so she didn't have to answer to anyone. Especially House.

"I knew there was something else," he pressed. He couldn't take the static unknowing. He grabbed the marker from the floor and began to write furiously across the other symptoms.

"House—"

"Cuddy's lying," he pronounced and underlined in big, bold and black letters.

She grabbed the marker from him, scratching out his new symptom. "I'm not lying."

"Oh, excuse me. Withholding vital information about my brain!"

Cuddy threw down the marker. "If you wanted to remember, you would. You remember everything else. Everything. You're like a goddamn encyclopedia. It's like it never even happened—"

"What happened?!" House shouted, shocking her and Rachel, sending the baby into a fit of wails.

"We had sex, you asshole!" Cuddy screamed, too upset to edit.

Rachel cried as they fell silent. Cuddy kneeled and picked up the baby, soothing her just as much as herself.

House just stared at her in disbelief. Their eyes met again, but they were unable to read each other. House seemed confused; she seemed apprehension and almost regretful.

The baby calmed, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. Wordlessly, Cuddy carried Rachel to the nursery, putting her down. She stood over her longer than necessary, but she needed to gather herself before she rejoined House. She hadn't planned on telling him ever; but now that she had, she had no idea what to do.

House wasn't there when she returned.

She wondered if he would ever come back. After all, he (well, they) had avoided this coupling for years, almost successfully. In all honesty, after sex, was there room for an actual relationship? Her token answer had always been a solid no.

There was nothing serious or stable in what they had. Most of the time, it was just there, taunting them like silly schoolgirls.

But the hope, the hope of something more, each and every time brought her back, made it possible for her to hang on.

She turned the porch light on, just in case.

Later that night, she felt the bed sag next to her. She didn't want to open her eyes.

House's voice was ragged with bourbon as he spoke. "When? That time in….or that unfortunate incident on the couch last week?"

Cuddy stared at his hunched back. He was inebriated. "Right before."

"Jim Beam doesn't do shit for your memory, but I would 'member that."

"Maybe you don't want to," she whispered.

House laughed sardonically. If only she knew. If he could wipe out anything, that would be at the bottom of his list.

"Was it…?" His words hung in the air. His imagination was vivid with scenarios: dirty ones, S&M ones, lesbian ones, even whimsical, romantic ones.

Hot, clean, and sober. Perfect.

But the reality? He looked at her, and he couldn't see it.

She touched his hand softly. "Yes."

"No wonder you're nesting around me." He leaned in closer, wandering what he said, did, touched that made her say yes to it all.

She smiled sadly.

"House. Go to sleep."

The next morning, House walked into the kitchen and unceremoniously sat at the breakfast table. Cuddy had her back to him, feeding Rachel Cheerios.

"Okay."

"Huh?" She turned around and stared at him quizzically.

"I'll move in. At least until the voodoo wears off." House pushed off his seat and picked Rachel up from her high chair.

"House. Put her down. She's not done eating—"

"What do you say, Rachel Ray," he wiggled the little girl's arms, making her laugh. "What else can we make mommy do?"