new chapter, where you'll find out that when it comes to House, you can never expect the journey to be quiet. on the contrary, it has to be a long, long winding road, full of curves and pitfalls...

** CHAPTER 32 **

It was past eight already. House had left the hospital a couple of hours ago. He hadn't seen Cuddy during the afternoon, but she'd said she would come, and he was waiting for her. Impatiently. He was glancing at his watch every other minute, heavily sighing when he realized so little time had passed by since the last time he'd checked, because she still wasn't here.

He was dying to call her, but he forbad himself to do such a needy thing, one that would only make him look miserable and silly. He tried to sit at his piano instead, to let music relax him but it didn't work. So, he poured himself a glass of bourbon and slowly drank it one sip after the other until he finally heard a knock on his door.

At the sound of it, his heart started to thump in his chest, and he limped at his fastest pace to the door, knowing it was her, sensing it was her. When he opened the door, Cuddy was standing there, holding boxes of Chinese take-out food, a broad grin on her face.

"I bought dinner. Chinese," she said. "Hoped you'd provide the beer."

"What were you doing?" House asked a bit edgily. "It's almost nine."

He held the doorjamb in his hand to block access to her with his arm.

"Yes, I know," she replied nonchalantly. "So what? I went to my place to change clothes."

He conspicuously looked her over from head to foot, with his head tilted to the side. She was casually dressed in a low-cut, stone-washed jeans and a close-fitting, light pink tee-shirt which was enhancing her curves underneath a black woman suit jacket. She was simply gorgeous, but House wanted to take time, and tease her, make her wait a little longer on his doorstep.

"I liked how you were dressed today. That was fine."

"Yeah, sure! You didn't even pay attention to my clothes," she answered chuckling.

"Black high-heel shoes, white-striped, black skirt on bare legs, white shirt and… the part I really liked: red lacy underwear," he enumerated, staring at her light blue eyes, filled with astonishment.

She let out a short sigh of pleasure, almost carried away by the sense of belonging he'd just made her feel, and stared back at him, without saying a word. After some fleeting seconds, she found the strength to let go of his enthralling gaze and took a step forward.

"Ok, so you can still memorize things. Your brain is not fried. That's amazing!" she said, deadpan. "But right now, I'm hungry. So, are you going to let me in, or what?"

She quickly glanced at him and suddenly, took advantage of him being slightly distracted to slide under his arm and made her way inside. House turned around and stood by his door a little longer, while he studied her and how she made herself at ease in his place. It was a very strange feeling, but he had to admit he liked it.

His eyes followed her as she went straight to the coffee table and placed the boxes of food on it. He liked it when she took her jacket off and casually threw it on his couch's armchair. And he loved the way she plopped down into it and put her legs crossed on the table. Then, as she'd disappeared behind the couch's backrest, he could only picture her stretching her neck and tilting her head in his direction, but he loved the way she sounded when she called him back in.

"Are you getting us some beer or are you going to stand at the door waiting for the food to get cold?"

She amazed him.

With her confidence, her casualness, or the way she so naturally ordered him around. That's why he couldn't resist her. She just had to ask, and he would comply.

House felt a slight shiver of desire run down his spine just at the thought that she was back, in every sense of the word. She was here, for him, belonging to him. The night had just begun, and it was all theirs.

He closed the door but went past the couch and headed to his kitchen. In the fridge he took two beers, hesitated as to whether he should bring glasses or not, then decided against it and walked back in the living room, with the two bottles in his hand.

He handed one over to her. Cuddy took it and uncapped it, looking at him with a smile. She brought the bottle up to her mouth and took a sip while he approached the couch and sat next to her. She bent over to the table to put the bottle of beer down, grabbed a box of food and slumped back into the couch.

"Eat!" she ordered

He peered at her ravenously.

"The food, not me!" she added, a big smile forming on her lips.

"Just one or two bites then I'll definitely need to satisfy another kind of hunger," he said, perfectly mastering a dead-serious look.

She rolled her eyes and took a mouthful of food. House narrowed his eyes and took a short pause to scrutinize her, and then he reached out for a box of food, too. They ate and drank their beer, seated on his couch, glancing at each other from time to time, feeling relaxed and enjoying the odd domesticity of that casual moment without really being aware of it.

When they were finished, House stood up and took the empty boxes to the kitchen to dispose of the waste in the trashcan. Cuddy wanted to get up, too, but he told her to relax and wait for him. While he was in the kitchen, she looked around her, mentally making an inventory of his stuff: the books, the medical reviews, the CD's, the paintings on the wall, the piano, and the guitars. He was everywhere in this apartment. House came out of the kitchen and walked toward her.

"You know I can play the guitar?" Cuddy said, glancing at the ones hanging on the wall.

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Some student taught me how to in Med School."

"Some student taught you? Is that right? So that's what you were doing in Med School? Learning how to play the guitar with some student? No wonder you're such a lousy doctor!" he teased.

"Maybe. But eventually, I outran you because now I'm your boss."

"You really like this 'being my boss' thing, don't you?

"Sorry, I was just making a statement," she defended herself.

"C'mon, I'm just teasing you."

"You're mean," she pouted.

"No, I'm not," he exclaimed, suddenly leaping to his feet.

He walked to the wall where his guitars were hung and took one off its hook, then he walked back to her and handed the instrument to her.

"Look, I'm letting you play with my sacred thing that no one else, except me, can touch," he said with a broad grin, obviously enjoying his little double-entendre.

She looked at him and smiled but didn't take the instrument, not ready to cave yet.

"You're going to mock me," she said still pouting.

"No, I'm not. I swear," he answered repressing a chuckle.

Cuddy finally took the guitar and straightened up on the sofa so she could hold the instrument properly. Her face serious, she placed her fingers on the strings solemnly and started to play the first chords. House couldn't help wincing but looked at her with a tender smile.

"What's that? Psycho original soundtrack?" he joshed.

"No, it's Knockin' On Heaven's Door," she answered very seriously, preparing her hand for the next chord. She was unconsciously biting her bottom lip and she looked just irresistible to him.

"Knockin' On Heaven's Door," House repeated, almost to himself, and he had to take a deep breath to prevent himself from bursting into laughter.

He bent over her and gently took the guitar out of her hands.

"Give me this, you lousy player!"

"I'm so sorry, Muddy," he added, conspicuously whispering to the guitar.

"Ok," she said, faking to be upset. "So, I'm a lousy doctor, I'm a lousy guitar player-"

House cautiously rested the guitar against the sofa's armrest and sat next to her, grabbing her by the waist and burying his face in her neck.

"But I know something you're not lousy at," he murmured inside her ear.

"Really, and what's that?" she asked stretching her neck to give in to the caress of his lips.

"Come here," he answered, pulling her tighter. "I'll explain."

"Yeah sure! Coz I'm lousy at guessing games, too!"

Cuddy burst out laughing. He came closer and nuzzled her nape. She relished the sensation of his lips on her skin and tilted her head back as he kissed her more greedily, his hands starting to make their way under her tee-shirt.

"Why did you learn to play the guitar?" she asked, a little short of breath while he was kissing her collarbone.

"Don't know," he replied in a low voice, breathing against her skin. "But I know I scored a lot of babes back in College thanks to Muddy here."

"Like whom?"

"You don't want to talk about that," he mumbled, nibbling her earlobe.

"Why not?" she insisted, pushing him away a little. "It's in the past. I don't mind talking about the babes you scored. On the contrary, I'd love to hear about Greg House's list of conquests."

"Ok then. Let's say that I don't want to talk about that."

She inhaled a sharp intake of breath and pushed him away again, trying to extricate herself from his embrace.

"You never talk about you. And it's never the right moment," she complained, a little unnerved.

"My point exactly," House said, not aware of how upset she was becoming and ignoring her remark. "Because now is definitely not the right moment to talk."

"Stop!" She looked at him angrily and pushed him away for the third time, this time firmly.

"Ok!" He sighed, annoyed and straightened up to look at her. "What's the problem? Are you on your period, or what? Coz if you are, that'll be easier to tell me."

Cuddy shook her head, bemused, and looked away to hide her hurt.

"Now, wait a minute," he added. "That's not it. This morning, we… and you're not supposed to have them until at least another ten days because-"

She sighed heavily and jerked her head toward him to face him again.

"Stop it, please," she said with a voice tinged with sadness. "This has nothing to do with my cycle, my ovulation, my hormones or whatever rational medical explanation you think is relevant to help you justify this. It's just an emotion, House. I only want to know about you, your childhood, your friends, your lousy memories. There's nothing wrong with that. Why can't you give me that? Why can't you just open up a little?"

It was House's turn to look away, painfully avoiding her gaze. He bit his bottom lip and she clearly saw him struggle against conflicting emotions.

Why does she have to do this now? Why now, in that perfect moment? Why would she want to know things that don't matter? Why can't she enjoy the present?

"Why do you care about my childhood?" he said with a wobbly voice that betrayed the brutal memories her questions had most inappropriately brought back.

Why can't he give me something, instead of always hiding behind a mask? Why is it so hard to just let go and be himself, for once? Why does he always have to be mean when he feels hurt?

Cuddy sighed and looked at House without answering his question. It was unnecessary and they both knew that. He'd crossed a line, again. And yet, she knew perfectly well it wasn't intentional. She knew he didn't mean to do her harm. She knew it was just a reflex, to protect himself, against himself, and against parts of him that he didn't want her to have access to.

She bit her lip, trying to hide her disappointment and sadness. She couldn't do that. Not anymore, not eternally, not tonight. She'd only asked him to open a small breach through which she would have edged her way and learned to know him better, understand him, maybe love him better. But instead, he'd pushed her back. And now, he was staring at her, intently, with confused, beseeching eyes.

But no, she wasn't going to cave. She turned around and took her jacket off of the armrest. House gulped and kept staring at her, following her every movement, still silent. She threw the jacket over her forearm and stood up. Hovering over him, she looked down, hoping for a sign, something, but he bowed his head and looked down at his feet, stubbornly remaining silent.

That silence was not against her. It was the punishment he was already inflicting on himself, for having hurt her and she knew it. She felt even sadder that he always seemed to build pain upon pain just to avoid facing something he didn't understand or couldn't control. She felt a twinge of sorrow shaking her inside and her heart ached for him. She wanted to be with him, help him but there was nothing she could do, now, here.

Cuddy gave one long, last stare at House as he was seated completely closed up in front of her, locked in his painful world, and she silently left his apartment.

A/N

Hi everyone!

today I only have one thing to say (actually 3 words, to be precise): SEASON 6 PREMIERE! :-)

Geez, I am so excited!

have a nice day! ~ maya

ps: and for what it's worth, "good vibes and positive thoughts" for HL at the Emmy right now...