A/N: Thank you all so much - I thought I might get a couple of extra reviews, but I'm so thankful that so many of you took the time to give me some encouragement. I hereby declare myself overwhelmed by your love. I promise to continue posting AND to refrain from any further whiny tendencies.
-
Once they arrived at the hotel, Kitty felt the few moments of peace she'd had getting ready and sitting in the cab quietly with House had been like the eye of the storm. Before she'd even stepped in the room she was assaulted by three different people with three different problems.
"Catherine, we've got an overbooked table."
"One of the jazz performers has laryngitis."
"We've had a last minute request for halal meals."
Kitty sighed. She looked up at House and nodded towards the bar where she could see Steve Grosvenor already sitting. "Go get a drink," she told him. "I'll come get you as soon as we're ready for the run through."
He nodded and began to walk off but she grabbed his arm before he was out of reach. "And here." She pulled a folded sheet of paper out of her purse and thrust it into his hand. "Your speech," she said pointedly. "You might want to read it through."
House raised an eyebrow.
"I figured you might not have had time to write your own." She gave him a look that let him know that she was well aware he'd never had any intention of writing one in the first place.
He grinned and held the paper up in a salute. "Thanks."
Unable to help smiling at him, Kitty let him go and turned her attention back to her PRC staffers and the hotel venue manager who were all still standing anxiously awaiting her decisions. Her smile instantly vanished. "Right," she said tiredly. "Who was first?"
It didn't take long to sort out the minor issues that had cropped up. She still had to check the final version of the seating plan – most people hadn't sent through the names of the people sitting at each table until the last minute – and make sure the hotel had the special food requests under control, but other than that, things appeared to be under control.
She walked over to the two doctors waiting at the bar, noticing that they seemed to have become friendly over the glasses of scotch in their hands. She winced, realising she should have arranged in advance for the bartender to only serve them beers.
"Right, you two, ready for your big rehearsal?"
"Absolutely."
"No."
Kitty nodded as both men answered at the same time. It was pretty much what she'd expected. "Come on then. We have to check the microphone levels and that the PowerPoint is working."
"PowerPoint?" House choked.
"Don't worry, it's not for you," Kitty said, patting him reassuringly on the arm.
She got both men up on the small stage that had been primarily set up for the band, but had a podium off to one side and a large screen as the backdrop. The screen was going to show images from some of the PRC's major activities over the past twelve months while the guests were mingling and eating. And when Steve spoke, they had a few graphs and figures to demonstrate the Council's performance.
Steve spoke first, welcoming everyone and then explaining the change to the Council's leadership. He was professional, clear, concise and engaging – just as she had known he would be. He then introduced House who paused for a long while before stepping up behind the microphone. Kitty was sure not many people would correctly interpret the look on his face. Public speaking was clearly one of his less preferred activities. But now that Steve had got up and done it so flawlessly, House was trapped by his innate competitiveness to do just as well, if not better, whilst knowing that he was in no way prepared to do so.
So he did what Kitty half expected him to do – he deliberately made a hash of it, making out he was much worse than Kitty knew he was. She'd intentionally made his speech short – just four paragraphs of thank yous to the appropriate people and a fairly bland and fuzzy outline of his hopes for the future of the PRC. But just those few mumbled words were enough to make the hotel staff who were setting the tables stop and stare.
Steve took the microphone back from House with a desperate look at Kitty. He went on to complete his presentation, reviewing the past year of the PRC's work and praising the many people who'd been part of its success.
"That's was . . . great," Kitty called out when they were finished.
Both men stepped down from the stage and House headed straight back to the bar.
"Kitty?" Steve stepped close her, his forehead creased with anxiety, and Kitty knew exactly what he was worried about.
"Don't worry. I'll work with him on it as soon as I've finished up a few other things. It'll be fine. In the meantime, go have another drink with him. Make sure he doesn't get drunk. Make sure you don't get drunk either."
Steve gave a brief laugh and shook his head. Then he looked at her seriously and put a hand on her shoulder. "I promise to do that, if you promise not to get yourself into a state. You're looking very stressed. It's going to be a lovely night, just try to relax and enjoy it, okay?"
Kitty gave him a smile. "Okay. What would I do without you?"
"Who knows? Have a heart attack?" He gave her a fatherly hug that Kitty couldn't help relaxing into for a second. Steve Grosvenor and his wife were the closest thing to family that Kitty had. Not that she was going to let them know that. Steve straighted up, gave her an encouraging smile, then walked over to the bar to rejoin House.
"Catherine!" Her assistant at the PRC, Penny, walked up with a panicked expression on her face. "It's a disaster! No one can find the table centrepieces."
Kitty closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. She felt a faint clench in her chest as her already elevated stress levels leapt up one notch higher.
"Right," she said determinedly. "Let's go see if we can find them."
-
-
House sat at the bar slowly sipping his second scotch. Grosvenor wasn't bad company and he wasn't averse to dishing the dirt, so they'd been talking about some of the more soap opera-style goings on at each of their hospitals.
While they spoke, House watched Kitty as she seemed to run from one problem to the next, only solving it to be confronted by some new issue. He realised then, if he hadn't known it before, that the success of the PRC really rested on only one person. If it wasn't for her, there would be no PRC.
Grosvenor was talking about something, but House wasn't really listening. He narrowed his eyes as Kitty pressed her palm to her sternum while she was talking to some girl. By his count it was the fourth time she'd done it. He figured it was way overdue for Kitty to have some timeout and perhaps even some medication, but before he could step down from his barstool, a smarmy looking suited man stepped in front of him.
"Dr House, I'm Oliver Joyce, the manager of the hotel. I understand you're the new Chairman of the PRC." He offered his hand to shake.
House took it and returned the handshake but gave a "can you believe it" look to Grosvenor. The other man snorted.
"I just wanted to meet you and thank you and the PRC for deciding to hold the fundraiser at our hotel. I understand that there have been one or two minor issues leading up to the event—"
House couldn't help letting out a sarcastic "ha" at that; from what he'd heard from Kitty the hotel had been sending her around the bend with their stuff ups.
The hotel manager ignored House's outburst and continued, "—so we'd like to offer you a complimentary suite for the evening." He held out a cardboard folder with a plastic key card inside. "You can auction it off as a prize tonight if you'd like. Help raise money for a good cause. Our hotel is always anxious to assist the medical community of Princeton—"
House tucked the key inside his jacket pocket. Auction it off? No way! Kitty needed timeout and now he had the perfect escape route.
"Thanks," House said, cutting the guy off in the middle of his pitch. He stood up and turned to Grosvenor, effectively turning his back to the hotel manager who huffed and walked off. "I think Kitty's getting stressed. Perhaps I'll take her for a quick break somewhere and she can help me practice my speech."
Grosvenor gave House a measured look and House felt suddenly uncomfortable. The man was probably only ten or so years older than he was, but it was as if he was a teenager again, faced by a date's father, all concerned about his intentions.
"Why do you call Catherine Kitty?" Grosvenor asked, not a trace of humour in his voice.
All manner of witty retorts sprang to House's tongue, but for once he managed to hold them in. For some reason he knew that it mattered what this man thought of him. "It's the name she was called by her parents," he said, somewhat truthfully. Kitty had told him that her mother had called her by that pet name, as well as Andrew Barnes. "Catherine's her professional name. Kitty's her personal name."
Grosvenor nodded slowly and gave House a small smile. "You really do need to work on that speech," he said.
House gave a quick grin, feeling as if he had somehow passed a test. "Will do," he said with a nod.
He walked over to where Kitty was still talking to the girl, her hand still pressed to her chest.
"Penny, I don't know how we can—"
"Kitty, I need your help with something," House interrupted.
She gave a frustrated sigh. "What is it, Greg?"
"I need you to help me stop you having a heart attack."
"What?" Kitty looked down and seemed to just realise that her hand was pressing on her chest. She pulled it away and shook her head. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. What still needs to be done?" he asked.
"All the seating plans have to be checked," she said, holding up a sheaf of papers.
House pulled them out of her hand and gave them to Penny. "Penny, do you think you can handle that?"
Penny nodded. "Sure. Catherine you do look a little unwell. I think it would be a good idea to go sit down. I can take care of this."
Kitty looked uncertainly between the two of them. She was having difficulty giving up control of the detail checking, House knew, but he also realised she must be in pain if she was considering taking a rest. That decided him.
"Come on." He put a hand around her waist and steered her through the tables towards the foyer. As they walked out the door he looked over to the bar. Steve Grosvenor raised his glass a fraction in a kind of salute.
-
-
Once they were in the foyer, House kept steering Kitty towards the elevator bank.
"What? Where are we going?" Kitty pulled on his arm. "Let's just sit down on one of those sofas."
"Nope," House said, giving her a grin. "I've got a better idea." He checked the folder the manager had given him and once in the elevator pressed the button for floor twenty-eight. "The manager gave me a suite to make up for all the hassle they've given you, so I think the least we can do is check it out."
"What?" Kitty put her hands on her hips. "Greg, I'm sure the hotel meant that the suite was for the PRC. We can't—"
"Oh, yes we can," he interrupted. "Besides, you are the PRC."
Kitty frowned. "I don't think—"
"You are," he said more quietly, giving her a serious look. "I know you think I'm careless, but I have actually read the stuff you sent to me. I know how hard you work. I know that the PRC has made some pretty impressive achievements. In fact, there's a study you're about to begin funding into CRPS type two that I wouldn't mind being part of somehow."
"As a patient?" Kitty asked.
House nodded.
She looked surprised, but pleased. "I'm sure we can find a way to make that happen."
The elevator doors opened and House grabbed Kitty's hand, pulling her along until he located the suite door for room 2815. He inserted the key, opened the door and they both smiled as they walked into the room.
It was only one room, but it was huge and located at the corner of the building. Floor-to-ceiling windows provided a view across the city, the sunset blushing pastel colours across the sky. A massive king-sized bed dominated the room, with a fluffy down comforter and more pillows than House could count. A large plasma screen TV was affixed to one wall and a bookcase included an impressively stocked minibar. Double doors were opened to the bathroom and they revealed a huge oval Jacuzzi.
"Nice," House said, impressed.
"I just want to sink into that bed and never get up," Kitty said longingly.
"I can help with that." House raised his eyebrows suggestively, remembering the sexy black satin hidden under her dress. His trousers felt suddenly too tight.
Kitty shook her head. "No, we can't. I can't mess up my hair or my dress." She pressed a hand to her chest. "I think I might need to take a pill though."
House nodded. "Sit down."
Kitty took a seat on the bed and House sat next to her, reaching in to his jacket pocket and handing her the pill bottle. "I'd offer you a drink to wash away the taste, but that's probably not a good idea." Instead he got up and grabbed one of the tiny bottles of Jack Daniels and twisted the top off.
"Greg."
Kitty's exasperated tone just made House want to misbehave more. He tipped up the bottle and poured its entire contents down his throat.
"You have to make a speech later, I don't want you to be drunk."
"You clearly have no idea of how much it takes to get me drunk." He sat back on the bed next to her and fiddled with the skirt of her dress, separating the fabric where the split revealed her legs. He ran his hand up the inside of one of her thighs, over the silky nylon of her stockings, smiling when she shivered at his touch.
"I said no," Kitty said, but she didn't make any move to stop him. Instead she twisted a little towards him, her hand snaking inside his jacket. He knew she was only returning the bottle of pills to his pocket, but her hand rested on his chest when it was done.
"Your mouth says no, but I don't think you really mean it," he said, running the tips of his fingers around the tops of her stockings, stroking the soft skin of her thigh and gradually moving higher. Her breath caught and her fingers pressed harder into his chest.
She bit her lip and looked at him, a serious expression on her face. Eventually she sighed. "I can't say no to you. I'd be worried about that, but suddenly I'm too horny to care."
House laughed.
"But I have to hang up my dress. And you can't touch my hair. And we have to find a position so I'm not lying down, but that doesn't involve me doing all the work in case I get dizzy again," she ordered. "I don't have time to rest and recover."
House smiled at the list of instructions. "I can deal with that."
"And you should take your suit off too. You don't want to get crumpled."
"How do you know? I think I'd love to get crumpled."
"And I'd love to crumple you. But not now, later."
"Okay."
Kitty got up and threw open the closet doors, her hand going to the zipper of her dress. She undid it, stepped out of it and hooked it over a hanger, all before House had even got his jacket off. He shrugged his shoulders and pulled it off, handing it to Kitty to hang up. He did the same with his shirt and trousers. Soon he was standing in boxers and socks and Kitty was in her underwear.
Kitty looked around the room. "There's no clock."
"I've got a watch," House said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer as he used the other hand to free one of her breasts from her bra.
"We'll have to keep an eye on the time," Kitty admonished. "I've only got about twenty minutes and then I need to be back."
"Ah-huh," House agreed, mumbling as his lips closed around her nipple.
"Oooh." Kitty let out a little moan and wound her hands into the hair at the nape of his neck.
After laving both nipples with his tongue, House raised his head and kissed her, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and running his tongue along it. She sighed and opened her mouth to him and House took her, invited her tongue in to meet his and sucked on it. Her fingernails scraped against his back and House felt a sudden urgency to bury himself inside her.
Mindful of her requirements and the time limit, House steered them both towards the desk against the window. He pulled out the chair, sat down and dragged her down onto his lap, facing him. He made her sit straddling his hips but away from his body, balanced right on the edge of his knees. That way her weight didn't hurt his thigh and it also gave him space to touch her intimately. He got straight down to business; pulling the strip of her thong to one side, he plunged a finger inside her.
"Oh Greg," Kitty moaned. Her hands trailed down his body and reached inside the slit of his boxers, pulling his heated shaft free. She began to stroke him in her fist, her urgency matching his.
He used his thumb to rub her clit and she threw back her head, gasping in pleasure. Her hips began undulating, riding his hand, and it was the sexiest sight – House felt the pressure building in his balls just watching her. He let her rock against his hand for a long while before he added a second, and then a third finger inside her, thrusting in and out of her until she cried out.
"Greg!" House could feel her inner muscles begin to quiver and knew she was close to her peak. Her hand still grasped him, but she was distracted now and he wanted desperately to be inside her when she came.
She let out a little gasp as his hand slipped out of her. "Come closer," he said, cupping her ass with both hands, urging her to move forward and seat herself over him.
"No." Kitty put her hands on her shoulders. "Greg, I just had that pill . . . but I'm still worried I might pass out if we do it this way, it'll be too much . . ."
House made an irritated noise deep in his throat. He wanted to throw her on the bed and dive on top of her, but he somehow knew that no matter how mindless she was from pleasure, he'd get in trouble for messing up her hair. And anything that stood between him and orgasm – even just another lecture about her hair – was worth avoiding.
He looked around the room and an idea flashed into his brain. "Stand up," he ordered. She did as requested and he turned her around to face the desk. "Bend over."
Kitty bent at the waist and rested her elbows on the desk. "Oh, this feels naughty," she said, a little shudder running up her spine. "I'm glad we're high enough that no one can see in. I've got a gorgeous view."
House stood up suddenly, the chair tipping over in his haste. He stood behind her and yanked her thong down to her knees, admiring the straight lines of the seams of her stockings that ran up each curvaceous leg. "No, I've got a gorgeous view," he countered, stroking a finger down the curve of her ass. He looked up and smiled at her faint reflection, the sun had dipped below the horizon now, turning the windows dark enough to mirror them softly.
Kitty gave him a slow, sexy smile in return.
It was the last straw for House. He knew from playing with her with his fingers that she was ready. He pulled his boxers down, put one hand on her hip and with the other he positioned himself at her entrance.
"You wanted this to be quick, right?" he said.
"Yes, but—oooh." Kitty let out a sigh as he slid into her in one long, slow thrust.
"Ah, fuck, Kitty, this is good." He squeezed her butt cheeks with both hands, watching as he moved in and out of her, slick and hot and tight.
"Touch me, Greg, I want your fingers back on me." Kitty sounded breathless, her words a gasped whisper.
House leaned over so he could reach her clit and he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. Kitty muttered an expletive and her head dropped to her forearms.
He sped up, moving faster, harder, feeling his cock hit her cervix each time he buried himself deeply inside. Kitty was whimpering and he wondered if it was hurting her, but she was pushing herself back onto him each time he moved forward.
"Are you okay?" House pushed himself inside her again and gave a short, breathless laugh. "Fuck it, even if you aren't I can't stop. This is too good."
"Don't stop," Kitty said, desperately.
House rubbed her clit, hard, and was rewarded by a throaty cry and Kitty's muscles pulsing around him in rhythmic spasms as she came. Her cries and the squeeze of her vagina around him tipped him over the edge. He took in a breath, and then another, his balls tightening, and then he felt the blissful jets of release, letting out a long, satisfied groan.
As the last shudders passed through him, House took a step back and staggered. He desperately needed to collapse somewhere, but falling over Kitty who was still bent over the desk was out of the question, and wouldn't really take the pressure off his leg anyway. He took two hobbled steps and fell back on the bed with a sigh.
He closed his eyes, but felt as Kitty joined him on the bed, her cheek resting on his shoulder.
"What about your hair?" House asked, barely able to find the energy to form the words.
"If I rest my cheek on your shoulder like this, it won't get mussed."
"Hmph." House made a muttered noise of contentment and lay still for a while. "Marry me?" he said suddenly. It was one of those times when the thought went from his brain straight to his mouth, missing any filtering processes in between. He thought Kitty was probably just as startled as he was to hear the words aloud. Which didn't mean he didn't mean it.
Kitty didn't lift her head, but her voice made her disbelief clear. "Marry you? I can't marry you. I've known you for barely two weeks."
"Yeah, but when you know, you know."
He couldn't see her face, but he somehow knew she was rolling her eyes at him. "I think we need to get to know one another better," Kitty said reasonably.
"Who knows you better than I do?" House asked, already knowing the answer.
Kitty fell silent for a while, and then raised her head slightly, looking at him with the sweetest confused expression that made House want to kiss her and kiss her all over again.
"You know me better than anyone," she admitted quietly. "But I'm not quite sure I want to be Mrs House just yet, okay?"
"Okay. But I reserve the right to pester you about it later."
"Deal."
"I'll ask you any time I feel like it," he insisted.
"Okay. And I'll answer you any time I feel like it."
"Sounds good."
They lay silent for a while. "Have we got enough time to have a little rest?" Kitty asked, her words mumbled against his chest.
"Plenty of time," House answered without checking his watch.
"Good." Kitty snuggled into him and House closed his eyes. This was the best fundraiser he'd ever been to.