I would love to hear from anyone who reads this story.
Chapter 3
Cuddy slowly sipped her tea as House played. She watched the way his elegant hands drifted up and down the keyboard. She couldn't help but let herself imagine what else those hands could do. Where else they might drift to if she encouraged them. Cuddy's mind wandered until she became aware that her heart was beating faster than it aught to. Sitting like this, close, yet not quite touching wasn't helping matters. The music was so beautiful it had a transporting effect on her. It made her almost forget that it was House she was sitting near. House who was playing a piece of music so beautiful it could only be described as a love song. She knew if she were being honest with herself she'd have to admit that he had always had a physical effect on her. Even way back when she was a hardworking undergraduate and he was the infamous Greg House, achieving greatness without seeming to do a lick of work. He had pursued her then. As, she imagined, he had pursued so many of the other females in their school, a few women professors too, if she remembered correctly. He was the Teaching Assistant in one of her premed classes and he would also tutor her every Monday evening. He was brutal to the students in the class, herself included, sometimes worse than the actual professors, mocking any thoughtlessly wrong answer. But he had a brilliant way of allowing the students to make their own discoveries and connections to the course work. In this way he was almost always better than the professors. You just had to make sure you kept up because if he thought you were being lazy, or unnecessarily stupid he would end up leaving you regretting you had ever set foot out of bed that morning. But on Mondays he was different.
On Monday's he'd walk into her dorm room laughing and full of pranks. He'd always find her sitting at her desk, where she spent the better part of her four years in the school. A huge pile of books and papers in neat piles covering most of the top surface. "Lets go Cuddy" he would say, he was the first one to call her that and it used to make her smile to hear her last name spoken with that rough voice of his. "Time for a change of scenery." Cuddy remembers that she would just shake her head and say, no. Between the voice and those penetrating blue eyes she knew she'd be in trouble if she let him get too close. House always smiled when he saw her but Cuddy could swear she could see something else in his eyes when he thought she wasn't looking, some kind of pain she just wasn't prepared to deal with.
No matter how many times she turned him down it was inevitable that the next Monday he would be back trying again. The first 10 minutes or so of every one of their study sessions he spent trying to get her to take some kind of bait or another, the two of them bantering back and forth. It's where they first developed their ability to snark at each other with out causing any real pain. And that's how it went every Monday evening until he left to start his residency at John Hopkins. Years later when they met up again they seemed to pick up on that special way of being together again, as if they had never missed a beat. Only lately, things were different. Had those long standing, unstated rules between them changed? Or was it they themselves who had changed? She didn't know for sure all she knew was that she had began to hurt him and the truth of it caused her great shame.
As House played through all his favorite Shulbert pieces he became aware of Cuddy finally relaxing. He could physically feel the tension leave her body. A quick look over and he realized that she had drifted away. Her mind was somewhere else, not here with him anymore. It made him sad in a way but it also allowed him the privacy he needed to play the serenade he had written for her. With the knowledge that she was only half listening to him, lost in thoughts of her own, he began to play Cuddy's Serenade without conscious thought. He played so that the music could tell her all the things he could not. He played so that she might, in someway, hear what was in his heart. House let the notes describe his longing for her, his desire and his regret. He played out his hopes and his doubts and the fear he had of losing her. He let the music tell the secret of how badly he wanted to be a part of the life she was making with Rachel and the secret of how scared he was that she had no room left for him. The notes told of a pain so deep he was sure there was no cure for but also of a hope he fought with everyday to keep alive. With the last note on the piano fading, the room filled with a deep silence. House and Cuddy both slowly came back to themselves.
While he had been playing Cuddy had unconsciously leaned into House. Her robe had fallen slightly open and her bare thigh was now pressed up against House's good leg. House and Cuddy became acutely aware of each other's presence. A quick glance from House confirmed that Cuddy was flushed and her breath was quickening. House felt a tension in his stomach that quickly traveled lower. He shifted slightly in order to ease the swelling that was becoming embarrassingly apparent. House felt Cuddy's striking eyes on him. He stared back thinking how mesmerizing she looked. After a moment House leaned over to take a drink of his scotch thereby breaking their trance. He stood up to rub his leg and downed another vicadin.
Cuddy's eyes drifted around the room gradually returning to the piano She noticed a small velvet box which sat on top. House saw what Cuddy was looking at and slid it over to her. In a voice that was only slightly raspier than usual House said, "It's a gift for Rachel." Cuddy's heart skipped a beat. For a second she froze, unable to move or breath. She didn't know how to react. The cruel words she had spoken to House when she told him she didn't want him at the ceremony flashed into her head. "Relax," House said, expertly reading her expression "It's not for you. It's for the kid. There's no need to panic and get all guilt ridden about it" Cuddy tried for a smile. "Then maybe I should just wait until she's old enough to open it herself." Her lame attempt at a joke fell flat and the shrug of House's shoulder told her to suit herself. Not knowing what else to do Cuddy picked up the velvet box and with slightly trembling hands opened the lid.
Inside was a beautiful, garnet encrusted, antique, hamsa with Hebrew writing on it. Cuddy swallowed hard as she looked at it. She recognized that it was an expensive and very meaningful gift. Cuddy ran her finger over the words almost reverently, It had been years since she had studied Hebrew but something told her House was probably fluent in it. "What does it say?" she asked in a quiet voice. House screwed up his face as if to say how should I know, but when Cuddy softly said "please" House took the gift from her hand and read the words. His deep, raspy voice, which often sent tingly shivers down Cuddy's spine, was now piercing her heart like a knife. House read aloud. " It's called the Blessing Of The Baby and it says Bless this newborn baby who will bring joy and happiness into your life. Whose precious smile will light and make your home bright." Cuddy's head was bowed and the lump in her throat was cutting off her breath. A tear slowly travel down her face. House reached over to her and gently wiped it away with his thumb. Taking her hands in his, he softly asked for the second time that night "Why did you come here?"
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