new chapter, where you find out that trying to build a relationship (especially when it involves two emotionally guarded characters) is a hell of a complicated thing! but isn't it what makes it worth the try?

** CHAPTER 18 **

House's patient would soon be fine. At least that's what he was convinced of. He'd done what he was brilliant at: Give a diagnosis and help find the right solution at the right time to save another life. But he was no longer needed now. His team was perfectly capable of handling the case without him. Wilson's couch could offer him a perfect retreat solution but, strangely, House didn't feel like talking to his friend. If he was being honest with himself, he would most probably avoid mentioning Cuddy while, in fact, talk about her was exactly what he wanted to do the most. And he might as well face it: Even that was not entirely true. What he really wanted was not just to talk about her. He wanted to see her. She was in his every thought. The only thing his mind could focus on. There was no point in trying to fight this. He knew it was useless to pretend otherwise.

House glanced at his watch again: 3.45 p.m. She should be in her office. He closed his eyes for a second and her image invaded his mind: Her curly hair floating around her beautiful face, her blue eyes, her incredible smile, the way she crossed her legs, the way she looked at him, the way she made him feel… He took a deep breath and without thinking twice, he grabbed his cane and stormed out of his office.

When he arrived on the ground floor, he strode to the clinic and headed directly to her office. There, a now familiar, young man welcomed him solemnly, instantly standing between him and Cuddy's door.

"Good afternoon, Dr. House. May I help you?" the young man asked timidly, his voice unsure.

Cuddy's P.A was really the last person House wanted to deal with then but, at the same time, just the one person whose naivety was tempting enough to want to play a little, nonetheless. House studied the young assistant and narrowed his eyes as he came closer.

"Warren, is that it?" he said, leaning down. "I'm sure you're really the most devoted assistant Dr. Cuddy has ever had the chance to have in years, but the answer's 'no thanks, I already know my way in'."

He smiled and started walking past Warren but, most unexpectedly, and although he couldn't help shrinking a little, the young man kept standing bravely in front of the door.

"Dr. Cuddy is not here," he said, hoping that simple statement would be enough to deter the diagnostician from going to his boss' office.

Oblivious of the consequences that simple statement could trigger, Warren didn't realize he'd now made it a challenge for House even more. There was indeed nothing that would make the diagnostician renounce something he'd set his mind on, even when reality or logic proved him wrong. Especially if reality or logic proved him wrong.

As it was expected, House stubbornly stood in front of the young assistant and took a step forward instead. Warren instantly took one back, which made House inwardly laugh. The blinds were closed, and he couldn't see inside her office, but he knew Warren was telling him the truth.

"She had a meeting at Princeton General this afternoon," Warren added to emphasize his point.

House felt instantly disappointed, but it still changed nothing about the fact that he furiously wanted to be there, now. He needed to be in her world, surrounded by her stuff. He wanted nothing other than to be alone inside that room and feel Cuddy's presence while she was away.

"It's ok," he said to Warren. "I'm going to wait in her office."

"She will be absent all day," Warren felt the need to clarify, to make it obvious there was no point in staying here.

Sort of impressed by the young man's unwavering opposition, House leaned closer and intensely scrutinized him. He decided then that it was time to change strategy. This kid was interestingly challenging to him, and the funniest part was that he didn't even seem to realize that he was.

"Warren," House said. "You seem like a clever guy to me. And it's a good thing that you are because I know you totally understand how we, doctors, sometimes have these really big, big responsibilities."

Warren looked at him suspiciously, obviously trying to process where this would lead him.

"Do you remember about that young woman that was so sick yesterday you had to bring me her file?" House carried on, his face taking on a theatrically dramatic expression.

Warren naively fell for the easy trick and instantly showed concern.

"I don't get to read the medical files. I'm not a doctor, you know," he answered, almost sounding sorry about that. "Is she feeling any better?" he asked, out genuine care.

House looked down and took a long, deliberate pause, as if contemplating whether he could safely share such intel about the patient or not. He stared at Warren and shook his head 'no.' He bowed his head next, doing his best to look genuinely worried, and then waited for his little act to trigger the awaited reaction.

Warren seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, until he finally looked around him and comprehensively asked, "Dr. House, do you need something in Dr. Cuddy's office?"

House sighed loudly in perfectly faked relief.

"Actually, I do. Dr. Cuddy has this encyclopedia about very rare infectious diseases. I need to check something in it to confirm my diagnosis. Time is of the essence here, Warren! The patient's life is at stake."

Warren nodded emphatically to show he understood the gravity of the situation and opened Cuddy's door for House. House looked at him gratefully and walked into the office. But, as Warren - who'd followed him quite unconsciously inside - was about to step in as well, House held up his arm to prevent him from entering and promptly slammed the door shut in his face.

"Thank you, Warren," House shouted from behind the door, as he locked himself inside. "You know Dr. Cuddy: She's going to be really, really pissed when she finds out someone went through her stuff, so it's better if you don't follow me inside. And I mean that for your own good."

Warren twisted the knob frenetically a few times, in a helpless attempt at opening the door, but he quickly understood that it was useless. Besides, Dr. House was really too weird, and he didn't want to get into trouble for trying to stand up to him. Dr. Cuddy seemed weird enough already to him, in her own special way and, as her assistant, he already had his fair share of challenges with her alone. After a short while, he released his grasp on the knob and returned to his desk where he sat down, pretending nothing had happened.

Alone in the room finally, House scanned the space around him and rapidly realized that Cuddy had, indeed, left her office and the hospital. Her coat wasn't hung behind the door. Her computer was turned off. Everything was well put in order. He looked at her desk and pictured her seated on her chair, and the way she was tilting her head up to look at him when he entered her office. He walked around her desk and drew the chair out to sit down. Once he was seated, he hung his cane to the desk's edge and waited in silence, looking around him without really knowing what to do.

He needed to see her. In that moment, nothing else mattered to him but that. He no longer cared that she thought they weren't a big deal. Yes, it'd hurt him to hear her say that at first, but House was ready to forget about it and move on. He just wanted to be with her. That was the most important thing.

In a way, he perfectly understood why she'd had that reaction in the elevator. If he were being honest, it sounded more like something he'd have said first. He was known for being the emotionally guarded one after all, not her. Cuddy just wanted to protect herself and he couldn't really blame her for not wanting to be involved, not so soon anyway.

He was a jerk, and she didn't want to be hurt. It was, in fact, perfectly understandable since, the night before, when she'd asked him if he wanted a relationship, he'd told her that he didn't know. In that moment, though, it was House's most sincere answer but, if she asked him that same question again, maybe his answer would be different this time. He probably wouldn't say yes, either, but at least he would be able to come up with a better explanation to make her understand why.

What House knew for sure was that he didn't want to lose her and, at the same time, the fact that he had to put a word on the feeling was something he thought was unnecessary. He feared it would ruin the genuineness of what they had. Being in a relationship wasn't something that needed to be said. It was just something that needed to be lived. He'd never been particularly good at labelling things anyway. Except when it came to diseases and medical mysteries, he'd always been better at analyzing emotions than at describing them to others.

Still, it was probably time for him to make a little effort and just let it out. House covered his mouth with his fingertips and nervously bit his nails. God, he wanted that woman so badly! It shouldn't have been so difficult to say it. He took a deep breath and smiled at his own cowardice. Cuddy had proven to be so much more courageous than he was. He owed it to her to be honest for once. He owed it to himself to be honest.

He spotted a desk pad just in front of him and before he could give it a second thought, he grabbed a pen and ripped a sheet out of it.

I WANT YOU

He wrote first but instantly felt a lump tightening his throat. No, he couldn't write that to her. She would think it was just some sexual, teasing message and he wanted to say so much more than just that to her. He wanted her in that way, yes, but he also wanted her in so many others. He crumpled the sheet of paper and threw it in the trash can. He took another one and rubbed his forehead, thinking: She made him fragile and doubtful, and he couldn't think straight. It was both terrifying and exciting at the same time. House didn't know what to write but he knew that he would find a way to make her understand how he felt if she let him try.

MY PLACE, TONIGHT?

He held the note in front of his eyes and studied the three words attentively. The small sheet of paper was slightly trembling, or maybe it was his hand... He folded the sheet in two to hide the message when he thought that someone other than her could read it. He opened the drawer, fumbled into it, and found a paper clip. With it, he attached his folded message onto a blank page and laid it right in the middle of the desk, where she wouldn't miss it when she would return from her meeting at Princeton General. House was sure she would most certainly come back to check her emails or make some phone calls before heading back to her house.

He contemplated the blank sheet with the little folded message clipped to it and suddenly realized that, maybe, it wasn't that obvious a message. So, he took the pen again and drew a house on the folded part of the sheet. Nothing more than just the shape of it but he thought it'd be enough to make Cuddy see that there was something lying under that piece of paper. Something from him. Satisfied, he looked at his little handiwork and stood up. He walked across the room and unlocked the door. When he opened it, Warren jumped on his seat at the sight of him. He smiled and gave him a nod.

"Thank you, Warren. You've been really helpful!" he said his tone undeniably amused.

And, with a bouncing limp, he walked out of Cuddy's office.

# # # # # #

It was around six in the evening when her meeting finally came to an end at Princeton General. Cuddy had gone there to discuss important, administrative decisions regarding the medical equipment the two hospitals would or wouldn't share. According to the agreement they'd reached that afternoon, she would then have to anticipate the budget for all the new equipment her hospital should acquire, and she really should have gotten to it as soon as possible. But, on her way out of Princeton General, she glanced at her watch and sighed. She was tired and she really didn't feel like going back to her office just now.

She wanted to take these high heels off, take a shower, change clothes, and put on a more comfortable outfit. But if she wanted to allow herself to do that, she still needed to be sure that everything would be ready for her to start her day on this budget matter as early as possible the next morning. She took her cell phone and called her assistant. Fortunately – which slightly impressed her – she found out with relief that Warren was still there.

She had to admit that even if he wasn't really as smart as she'd wished he were, her new P.A was devoted to his job, and it was proving to be more and more useful than she'd first thought. On the phone, Cuddy explained to Warren that she wouldn't come back to the hospital but needed him to prepare some files for her, nonetheless. She specifically named them, told him where to find them and instructed him to put them on her desk so she would find them the following day. She thanked him and told him that he could go home once he'd have taken care of it.

Warren docilely did as he was told: He gathered the files his boss had mentioned and with the pile in his hands, he entered her office where he, indeed, put them atop her desk, and atop that blank page that was just oddly placed in the middle of it, with nothing written on it except for a childish drawing scribbled on it.

# # # # # #

House's patient's state had stabilized over the course of the day. At least it hadn't gotten worse after the team started her on antibiotics for the phlegmon. Everything was going just as expected, so House decided it was time for him to go home. When he arrived at his apartment it was still early, but he still couldn't help checking the time every other minute.

He pictured Cuddy coming back to the hospital and finding his message. And then he couldn't help glancing at the clock again. It was barely six thirty and, even though he was already on pins and needles, impatiently waiting for her, he knew it was unreasonable to expect her that early.

He sat at his piano and played some random, old jazz tunes to pass the time. After a few songs, he stopped playing and realized it was dark outside. He checked the clock again and bitterly noticed the late hour: 7 p.m. He bit his bottom lip and stood up, walking to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. He sighed but couldn't resign himself to acknowledge the painful fact.

Maybe something had kept her busy a bit longer and she was only now on her way to his place. She would be here soon. Carrying a glass of bourbon in his hand, House went back to his piano and sat down on the bench. He put the glass of alcohol on the black surface in front of him and started playing some pieces of blues again, all the while staring at the door and hoping he would finally hear a knock.

Minutes passed by, then hours, and finally night succeeded to evening. When it became quite obvious that Cuddy wouldn't show up, House downed his third glass of bourbon in one gulp along with two Vicodin. He stood up, tried to straighten himself as best he could and stumbled painfully to his bedroom.

# # # # # #

Cuddy had gone home. It was not too late, for once, and she'd relished the delicious feeling of having the whole evening for herself to enjoy the quiet peacefulness of her house. She'd taken a shower and finally put on these comfortable clothes she'd dreamed of wearing all day. Feeling fresh and relaxed, she cooked herself something simple and appetizing that she decided to eat in her living room. She turned some music on and sat down on her couch.

Time, indeed, pleasantly passed by. But as it did, Cuddy began to feel more and more alone and not as relaxed as she first thought she'd be. Her mind started to wander, and she thought about him. House was challenging, abrasive, argumentative, uncompromising and all kinds of annoying different things. But he was also funny, witty, insightful, charming, tender, soft and all kinds of delightfully pleasing things. And she was missing him. She caught herself looking at the clock and wondered why he hadn't spontaneously showed up at her place like she'd assumed he would. Because she really wished that he had.

As night started to fall, she heard a noise coming from outside her front porch, and she almost jumped out of her couch, running to her front door. Without even glancing throughout the peephole, she swung the door open, a large smile on her face, eagerly waiting to find him. But to her extreme disappointment, there was nobody standing on her doorstep. She took a step out and glanced around her, but she was definitely alone.

Darkness was spreading and a cold breeze started to blow. What she'd heard was probably just the sound of the wind, blowing in the trees. Cuddy shivered, as a sudden feeling of cold hit her and crossed her arms in front of her chest to warm herself up. She walked back inside and closed the door behind her, leaning against it and sighing heavily. She shouldn't have felt so disappointed: They hadn't promised anything to each other, after all. He, coming to her place that night wasn't even something they'd planned. She'd just reacted as if it was a due, but it was obviously a stupid thing to do, especially when House was concerned. She should have known better.

Still, it was impossible to ignore the want she felt when she thought about him: Cuddy wanted House to make love to her. She'd thought about it all day. They'd barely seen each other, the only, weird encounter they'd had in the elevator leaving her with the disturbing feeling that he'd probably misunderstood her.

It'd started when she'd spoken to Wilson in the cafeteria. Cuddy knew she hadn't been completely honest with him, or with herself. That's why she'd felt the urge to see House afterward. She needed to explain herself. As his friend, Wilson would have probably told House about their discussion anyway and she didn't want him to get confused. She needed to explain herself and tell him why something that sounded so simple had been phrased in a completely different way, taking on a whole new meaning in spite of herself when she'd talked with Wilson. Truth is, she'd gotten defensive and in turn, had probably sounded like a bitch. But it wasn't easy to admit that something could become so powerful so fast. It was frightening enough to admit it to herself, let alone to Wilson.

Cuddy was just afraid. And stupid. She'd felt compelled to deflect because what had happened between House and her was beyond her control. And it'd happened so fast. That 'not a big deal' confession had slipped out of her mouth and, even though it was the exact opposite of what she wanted to say, as soon as she'd voiced it aloud to Wilson, she knew it was too late to recant. She wanted to explain that to House later in the elevator but again, she'd gotten confused. And now, he hadn't showed up…

Cuddy straightened herself and went to her kitchen. She opened her fridge and took the bottle of wine that she'd opened for House and her the night before. She smiled when she remembered what he'd told her about white wine being a predictable, female drink.

But not always so predictable... She shivered at the memory of him saying it with his hoarse voice, while staring intensely at her. She glanced at the clock again. It was too late now to hope for him to come. She had to reconcile herself to that fact. She sighed and poured herself a glass of wine.

Then, with the glass in her hand, she walked back in her living room to finish her dinner. Alone.

A/N

Hi everyone! :-)

I'm posting early today because I'm leaving to attend a wedding tomorrow morning, so I won't be around this weekend... and I have tons of things to do before I go!

In the meantime, this place is all yours! please let me know what you think of the storyline so far! how would you like things to go? what do you like, dislike? what do you think of Warren, the ingenuous assistant? What about the note House left? Do you think "Huddy" has a chance to go somewhere? What will House's reaction be?...

anyway, thank you for reading this story and make it alive!

~ maya