Chapter 2
House sat alone in his empty apartment in front of the piano. He was composing a beautiful, but haunting, piece of music. Occasionally he would stop to sip his drink but for the most part he just let the music flow through his fingers and into the keys. As he played his head swirled with thoughts of Cuddy and of Rachel too, the baby she now loved so much she was willing to sacrifice everything for. By the throbbing pain in his right leg House knew that he had spent hours like this, lost in the music, letting the notes give voice to the ache and the longing in his heart. He knew he needed to stop and walk around a bit or the pain would be too much to bear. Just as the last note faded from the air House heaved a sigh and stood up. He downed two vicodins followed by the last sip of his scotch ,turned and began to limp toward his bedroom when he heard the knock at his door. Leaning heavily onto his cane, House walked over and opened the door. In a strange way he wasn't surprised at all to see her standing there. It was as if his serenade had somehow summoned her to him.
Cuddy stood, soaking wet and shivering at his door, her bag clutched in one hand and the heel of her shoe in the other. White snow covered her dark curls like lace and her gray-blue eyes held in a storm of anger. House thought she looked absolutely beautiful. Still feeling the effects of the music and the thoughts that had provoked it, House silently gazed at Cuddy as a slight smile began to curl one side of his lips. It took him almost a full minute to realize that Cuddy was angrily staring back at him throwing daggers with her eyes. House quickly adjusted his own attitude, and more importantly the expression on his face, but in his head he continued to smile to himself. Cuddy showing up at his door in the middle of the night, in the middle of a snowstorm and pissed off was just so strange. He would never understand this woman and that was one of the many allures she held for him. No matter how long or how hard he studied her she would always surprise him. Finally she spoke.
"I'm soaking wet. It's 28 degrees outside. And my shoe is broken." House tried to sneer back at her but the quarter smile on his face betrayed how amusing he was finding the situation. "Its 3 a.m. in the morning. My leg is throbbing. And I'm going to bed." House moved as if he were going to shut the door in her face.
"HOUSE!"
"CUDDY!"
"Damn it House, let me in."
House stepped aside so that Cuddy could walk by. After looking back so he could check out her ass as she passed by, House made a big show of looking outside into the hallway.
"What are you doing House?"
"I thought perhaps you had the rug-rat outside in a toboggan or something."
"RACHEL is at home with my mother, who is spending the night."
"Oh? And can I assume that that is why you felt the need to run over here and disturb my beauty rest. Mommy troubles?"
Cuddy gave House a dirty look.
House, in turn, stuck his tongue out at her, looking just like the 6 year old boy he could be. He then abruptly turned around and limped into the bathroom leaving Cuddy standing there alone, dripping onto the floor.
House returned and threw a large towel at Cuddy along with a Rolling Stones t-shirt and a pair of socks. Cuddy threw back the tee shirt with a smirk, "Don't even think it House. I'm leaving my clothes on."
"Suit yourself"," he said, as he limped off into the kitchen. House put a kettle of water on the stove to boil and took out a large red mug.. "Instant coffee or tea?" he called, "or would you rather some scotch? Cuddy asked for tea. After a few minutes, House returned to the living room with a steaming mug of tea in one hand and his cane in the other. Cuddy was still standing in the middle of the floor dripping a small puddle onto it, even though she had done her best to try and dry off. Her hair, made even darker looking by the melted snow, was curling wildly around her shoulders. She had taken off her soaked coat and shoes but the blue dress she had on, clung to her legs wetly. The socks House had thrown at her were now on her feet bunched up around her thin ankles. Strangely, the combination of the bulky socks and the wet blue dress made a very appealing picture. House looked down at her sopping dress pointedly and shook his head. "You can't sit on my couch all wet." Cuddy gave him a cold stare. "Cuddy at least take off the dress. You can wear my robe. It'll be large enough on you to cover you from your neck to your toes. And I'll make a solemn promise to not abuse your virtue. House looked down and to the side. "Its hanging behind the bathroom door," he said. Cuddy took a slow breath and walked into the bathroom.
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Inside the bathroom Cuddy striped off the wet dress and hung it over the shower stall to dry. She ran her hand over House's robe pleased at how soft it felt. Noting the thickness of the material Cuddy decided she could safely remove her bra and be a little more comfortable and House would never know. Cuddy did not want to spend the night in House's apartment but the howling wind outside seemed to suggest this was her safest option.
When Cuddy emerged from the bathroom warm, for the first time in over an hour, she saw that House was in front of the piano quietly playing a few strands of music. He was seated to one side of the piano bench. A steaming cup of tea and a freshly poured scotch were placed next to each other on top. A small fire burned in the fireplace behind him. Cuddy began to feel the anger in her recede. House's robe made her feel warm and strangely safe, almost cared for. His scent lingered on the robe. It smelled of clean soap and wood smoke. Without looking up, House patted the bench beside him and continued to play a light melody. Cuddy hesitated but decided to take him up his offer. They sat like that side-by-side, legs barely touching, for several moments. With his eyes still on the piano keys in front of him, House asked,
"So do you want to tell me what I owe the pleasure of your late night visit to?" Cuddy hesitated than answered, "My car is parked 4 blocks from here and the roads have gotten too dangerous to drive on."
"That's a description, not an answer to my question." he said. But he knew for now that was all he would likely get.
" While you were in the bathroom I called your mother to let her know you were safe and that I'd get you home in the morning when the roads were cleared."
Cuddy could feel the anger in her rise again and she began to frown.
"And just who gave you permission to do that? And I am most definitely not staying the night."
"Didn't think I needed permission to call your mother. I didn't want her to worry. She and I have an understanding with one another."
"Yea I heard about that."
House looked over at Cuddy sharply but didn't say a word. He could see she was mad at him yet again. Seeing her sitting there, all fierce anger and defiance, despite how tiny and lost she looked in his robe, made him think of a kitten getting ready to pounce on an unsuspecting bull dog. House thought he could happily spend days fighting with her, weeks even. Hell, lately he'd been thinking he could spend a lifetime bickering with her, amongst other things of course. But, he recognized that she wasn't there yet and perhaps she never would be.
"You know, " He said, "YOU came to MY house, in the wee small hours of the night, and woke ME up. I should be the one who's mad. There I was innocently sleeping in my bed when a crazy woman comes banging on my door seeking shelter."
Cuddy squinted at him trying to decide just what his blue eyes looked like in this light. Sometimes they reminded her of the ocean, stormy and dangerous, just at sunset with the light reflecting off it. Giving it all crazy angles and making a person dizzy. Other times they looked as clear blue as the endless sky revealing nothing, hiding all. Tonight they looked like a lake reflecting back whatever was near.
With a slight effort Cuddy focused back in on House's words,
"House, you weren't sleeping. I heard you playing the piano before I knocked on the door."
That shut him up quickly. He didn't want her asking any questions about that. Not now anyway. He was still hurt by her behavior toward him. He didn't quite trust her not to hurt him again. But still, she had come out in the middle of the night, in the middle of a storm, and she did have the guts to actually knock after getting that far. It made him think of how brave she could be sometimes. In some ways she could be braver than him. Recognizing that she was still agitated House decided to play her some Shulbert. As much as he wanted to, and he wanted to badly, he knew that he just couldn't play the serenade he had written for her, not yet anyway. But he hoped the Shulbert would calm her and give her the peace she needed, and the recognition of the truth he hoped for.
