Hi everybody!

As incredible as it seems, I'm back with a new chapter and no, this is not 2012…. LOL

So, after leaving you with a cliffhanger last week, you'll now find out how House and Cuddy react to the news. 100% Huddy chapter ahead! I hope you'll like what happens and how...

If you have a moment, leave me a few words to tell me what you think…

** Chapter 74 **

["What do you mean?"
"I mean, whatever shit you had inside your breast, it's not gone," he answered, staring straight into Cuddy's panic gaze with gravity...]

"I don't understand. It's impossible- Bill said-"

"Yeah Bill, the superhero-" House spat sarcastically.

"House, don't make this about Bill!"

"I'm not making this about Bill, I'm making this about you!"

"What? Are you blaming me for being sick?" Cuddy asked reproachfully.

"No. I'm blaming you for not doing what's right to get cured."

"Please, don't do this," she pleaded.

"I'm sorry, but no! I'm not shutting up this time-"

"It's just a cyst," she murmured, almost to herself, looking distraught. "You saw it just like me … it's-"

She was seated on his lap, her breasts exposed to his sight, just in front of his face. House shifted nervously on the piano bench, and Cuddy toppled backward, promptly reaching out behind her not to lose her balance. Her palm fell flat on the keyboard, hitting keys randomly and making a discordant, loud noise that felt nothing like the soothing sound of Billie Holiday's songs that had been filling the atmosphere until then.

Irked in spite of him, but most of all utterly frustrated for not being able to control the turn of events, let alone anticipate them once again, House's irascibility got the best of him, and he puffed loudly in annoyance. He grabbed Cuddy by the elbows and motioned her off his lap. She stood up, and remained standing still in front of him, bare chest, looking totally helpless and it unnerved him even more. He bent over to the floor to grab her shirt and handed it to her.

"Put that on," he said sternly.

Cuddy complied mechanically and hastily half-buttoned the shirt to cover part of her nudity.

"I've done everything you asked. I didn't interfere. I let you handle it your way. But you screwed up," House went on, raising his voice accusingly.

The anger in his tone jolted Cuddy back to reality and she shot her head in his direction.

"What?" she asked, stunned.

"Yes, you did! Fuck, Cuddy, I told you to get your blood tested!"

"I did!" she retorted, raising her voice as well.

"And half your markers were above the normal levels!" House lashed out. "But no, instead of digging deeper, you just thought: Hey, why don't I let Bill, the wonderful endocrinologist, do one or two more scans? And if the mass miraculously disappears then I'd conveniently decide it's fine! Good job! See how totally fine that went-"

"But the lump was gone," Cuddy said, with a thready voice, mostly to reassure herself.

"What about now, uh? It was there. Then it wasn't anymore. How can you be sure it hasn't come back?"

"This is unfair."

Tears irrepressibly welled up in Cuddy's eyes, the weight of stress too heavy to control the rush of emotions that was starting to shake her whole body.

Seeing her fragile and jittery like she was in that moment didn't calm House down, at all. On the contrary, it made him feel irrationally furious even more. He knew it wasn't her fault, but he couldn't help it: All he'd ever wanted was to protect her. Right from the start, he'd wanted nothing other than that. But she hadn't let him and now, he was feeling as helpless as she was.

What if they'd lost two precious weeks during which he could have done the right thing? What if it was too late? They were back to square one, with no answers, and the emotional toll it was putting on him was just unbearable. When House was overwhelmed by a flow of emotions that he had no power over his response was usually to act like an angry jerk which, even if he understood how inappropriate it was, was the only one he knew how to deal with.

He promptly stood up and snatched the glass of bourbon on the piano, spilling some alcohol down in the process with the abruptness of his gesture. He downed what was left of it in one go and slammed the glass down again where it first was. Cuddy hunched a little but remained silent, watching him boiling with contained rage. He took a few steps away from her, toward his desk, and out of the blue, violently hit the wall with his clenched fist.

Not many people knew House well enough to decipher that reaction as a sign of his inner turmoil, but Cuddy was not one of them. She knew exactly how powerless he was feeling in that moment and why, even though he was trying to hide it. His anger was nothing other than a way of releasing his fear, so he could regain control over the situation again.

Cuddy approached him slowly and gently touched the side of his arm. The contact made him jump and he turned around to face her. The darkness in his gaze instantly vanished and he stared at her with sad eyes, pleading her to forgive him for behaving like he just had. She sighed and bit her bottom lip, not really knowing what to say, except through the intensity of her eyes, filled with sorrow and anxiety, undeniably searching for comfort in his.

House silently studied her face for a while then took a step back and fished his cell phone out of his jeans. Before Cuddy had time to react, he'd already dialed a number and was pressing the phone against his ear.

"Who are you calling?" she asked, taken aback.

He raised his hand up to stop her from making another comment and then frowned, visibly upset.

"Wilson!" he bellowed. "I hope shagging Erin is worth not picking up your phone right now coz I-"

He couldn't finish his sentence because Cuddy forcefully grabbed his hand and yanked it, and the phone, away from his face, abruptly cutting him off.

"House," she warned. "Don't you involve Wilson in this! Not now!"

House hesitated for a second but finally hung up.

"What the hell are you doing?" she said, bemused. "Don't you think you and I should talk first before you share your anger and frustration with someone else?"

"I was not calling Wilson for a pep talk!" House retorted. "You need to do further exams. You need to-"

"Need what? House, it's past nine already. Wilson is not at your beck and call twenty-four-seven. Just leave him alone! Besides, I think I have my say in this a little bit more than he does."

House narrowed his eyes at her, weighing his options for a while. Then, most unexpectedly, he opened the closet and grabbed his leather jacket.

"Fine!" he said with a definite tone. "You don't want Wilson to handle this, so you're stuck with me. I am going to take care of this, like it or not, and we're going to do it my way now. So, get your coat. We're doing another MRI."

He decidedly strode toward the door, ready to leave. When he realized she wasn't following him, he turned around and looked at her impatiently.

"I said get your coat!" he groaned.

"No." she replied, still standing stubbornly immobile a few feet away from him.

"What did you not understand the first time? I said: We're doing this my way now. We've lost enough time already and I'm not gonna stand here and do nothing! Not anymore."

Cuddy sighed heavily and closed her eyes to gather her strength. Then she slowly walked toward House, closing the distance between them. Once she stood in front of him, she tilted her beautiful face upward and looked at him with all the power of conviction she could muster. She raised her hand and cupped the side of his cheek, tenderly caressing his stubble with her thumb.

"Ok. We're doing this your way," she told him reassuringly. "I'll do another MRI, and all the tests you want, but please-" Anticipating her request, House clenched his jaw and she felt it stiffen inside her palm. "Tomorrow. It can wait until tomorrow."

He opened his mouth to say something, and she took another small step closer to him.

"Please."

House took her hand in his and slowly slid it off his face.

"It's only a matter of a few hours. There's no reason why things should get suddenly worse overnight," she reasoned.

He puffed and shook his head, struggling so hard against the little voice in his head that wanted to know, needed to have an answer, now, claiming it was the most rational decision to make and that waiting was reckless and irresponsible. But then, seeing the plea in her translucent light-grey eyes, feeling the heat of her body so close to his, and how much it radiated her need to be soothed with anything but medical answers, he surrendered.

"Alright," he said, his voice low.

He let her take his leather jacket out of his hands and watched her move away from him. From the doorsill where he was still standing, he observed her as she hung it back in the closet. She closed the door and looked up at him with a gaze that was an unmistakable and compelling invitation to forget about the present and dissolve their confused emotions in something called lust. She turned around and walked down the hallway toward his room and he followed after her, feeling slightly defeated, but willing to capitulate, nonetheless.

Cuddy was waiting for him and, as he entered the room, she wound her arms around his waist and nuzzled his chest, burying her face in the cotton fabric of his creased shirt.

"You're not going to use sex as a bargaining tool to make me change my mind-" House warned her.

"I don't want to make you change your mind," she said, her voice breathy. "I just really need this now."

She let go of her embrace and walked toward the bed. Slowly, she unbuttoned her shirt and lay down on the mattress. House approached and sat next to her. Looking down at her bare chest, he forced himself not to think. He put out his hand and delicately traced the outline of her right breast with his fingertips. She shivered and responded to his caress by touching his thigh, gently rubbing it up his groin.

"You can't use me for comfort whenev-"

"House," she stared at him with a fond gaze. "I need you. It's you I want. Not just comfort. Can't you see that I need you?"

House took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, letting her words envelop him with the same unquestionable certainty she had when saying them. Then he sighed, almost resignedly, and seized her legs one after the other to make them bend and take her shoes off, unhurriedly. Cuddy arched her back next and he unzipped her skirt, sliding it down along her legs. He helped her get rid of her panties, then her shirt and there she finally was, naked, lying on his bed and waiting for him, with such raw yearning, it made him feel powerless and lost.

She slid under the sheets and House began to undress slowly, until he was naked as well and joined her in bed, lying next to her. She turned to the side, facing him and took his hand inside hers, pulling him to her. He let her guide his body above her and he positioned himself between her legs. His chest lightly pressed on her breasts underneath him.

Her breast. That lump in her breast.

He couldn't get the idea out of his mind and as stunningly beautiful as she was, or as crazy as it was not to want her in that moment, his body refused to respond. He lay there, hovering over her, his naked body aligned with hers, his groin nestled between her thighs, but he couldn't get an erection.

Sensing the weight of stress upon him and his unusual restraint, maybe even reluctance to let go, Cuddy started to caress the round shape of his shoulder, soothingly and with infinite tenderness. She kissed him on the indent of his collarbone, in the crook of his neck, behind his ear, and House closed his eyes, silently praying to a non-existing god to be able to give her what she wanted, and what he undeniably needed, too. She wrapped one leg around his hips and began to grind her pelvis against his groin lasciviously.

"Look at me," she pleaded, her voice a hoarse whisper.

He opened his eyes, and she took his face inside her slender hands, cupping his jaw and planting her burning gaze inside his.

"I love you. Do you hear me? I love you, House. Tomorrow, I promise you, we'll go to the hospital, and I'll let you. I'll let you do what it is that you do best, and I know you'll figure this out."

She kissed his lips, almost chastely.

"You will. But please, don't think about it now." She kissed him again, with a greedier need this time, as her tongue searched for his tongue, teasing, and tasting the pulp of his lips, claiming entrance.

The rubbing felt suddenly more demanding, and House's breath got heavier. Desire took hold of him, and the erection started building up in his groin. Irrepressibly, he felt the need to touch her body too, caress her. He leisurely fondled her side, from her breast to her hipbone then down to her thigh, brushing it lightly with a feather touch. Cuddy let out a lustful moan and it sent an electric jolt down his spine that finished awaking him fully. She felt the head of his hard shaft nudge her folds and she spread her legs wider, arching her back in anticipation to welcome him inside her.

"Make love to me," she rasped.

House propped himself up on his forearms and positioned his hips to find the right angle to penetrate her. She locked eyes with him and held her breath, her body instantly tensing up and her fingers clutching his back while he gradually pushed his length inside her, almost haltingly. When he filled her entirely, she exhaled slowly, and her muscles finally relaxed.

In and out. In and out. House was intent on giving her what she wanted, even though he was sure she didn't realize it was what she needed. He solely focused on the rhythm of his strokes, deliberate and unhurried, and forgot himself for the sake of pleasuring her, his languid thrusts soon eliciting loud moans from her.

"Harder," she sighed yearningly, her face buried in his neck.

"No."

Cuddy thought it was a game, and she pressed the heel of her foot on his ass to push him down closer and deeper. House resisted the pressure and pulled out of her almost completely. She groaned in protestation and wriggled beneath him.

"You don't want harder. You want me," he reminded her, a bit provokingly.

Then he delved back inside her, with a torturously deliberate thrust, feeling every inch of her inner walls throb at the sensation and clamp around his length. When he filled her entirely, Cuddy sucked in a sharp breath that almost ended up in a squeal. She panted a few times, and a shudder jolted the small of her back.

"You don't want harder," he repeated.

"You want soft and gentle and all the things your stubborn pride refuses to let you admit you need," he thought.

He set the pace and kept thrusting inside her with slow, rocking sways of his hips, again and again, until he could feel her body became a wave, undulating in perfect sync to the rhythm of his own.

"Tell me you love me," she asked in a whisper.

He stopped his tidal thrusts, and straightened up, cradling her face with his hands. His deep blue eyes took on a whole new intensity and he stared at her, meaningfully. His shaft buried inside of her, her frail, sweaty body snuggled up underneath his, he planted his gaze into hers and he stared right into her eyes, for seconds that felt like hours.

"Don't you already know this by now?"

She gasped, rendered speechless by the unexpected gravity of his voice. He leaned down and kissed her, biting the pulp of her lips almost angrily.

"Jesus, Cuddy, don't you fucking know this by now?" he repeated, pulling out and pushing himself back inside her hard and deep.

A loud moan escaped her lips, and Cuddy threw her head back on the pillow, closing her eyes. House nose-dived in her neck and nipped her warm flesh, speeding up his rhythm and slamming into her harder with every thrust.

She dug her nails into his back and approved of his sudden change of pace with a raspy "yes!" and House finally gave it to her, hard, like she'd demanded, knowing it would bring her to that place she needed to be, where her mind would fly away and disconnect from all the stress, the sorrow, and the fear she'd been holding back until then.

She started squirming underneath him, but he pinned her down on the mattress with his thrusts, as hard and fast as he could, and in spite of the violent pain that shot through his leg, just to give her the release she'd asked for. He fucked her until her gasps turned into liberated, uncontrollable cries and she came with a force that shook her whole body from head to toes. Only then did House collapse on top of her, exhausted, while Cuddy wheezed, motionless, exhaling the last remnants of her orgasmic fever in the hollow on his collarbone.

He pulled out of her, cautiously, and rolled to the side, lying on his back next to her. She crawled into his arms and rested her head on his chest, and he enfolded her in a tight embrace, greeting his teeth to endure the unbearable throbbing pain in his thigh in silence.

After a few minutes of perfect stillness, he felt a wet bead of warm liquid drop onto his skin and he knew it wasn't just sweat when Cuddy huddled up closer to hide her face in his armpit. He gulped and sighed but didn't say a word. Instead, he just caressed her hair and rocked her gently in his arms until she fell asleep.

# # # # #

Cuddy felt a sudden chill as if something was missing alongside her and all the warmth that had kept her cozy and relaxed was suddenly gone. She rolled over and groped around in the dark, still half asleep, patting the mattress and only meeting the emptiness of the sheets beside her. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. A faint light was coming from the living room through the hall, and she reached for the lamp on the nightstand to turn the light on. The alarm said 3.45 a.m. and a quick glance to the side confirmed what she already knew: House wasn't in bed anymore, most likely because of the pain in his leg or maybe just another one of his inexplicable insomnias and he'd probably gotten up not to wake her up.

She drew the sheets out and sat up, pricking her ear to catch any sound that would have helped her find out what he was doing. After a while, it seemed the only one she could recognize was the sound of paper being creased or book pages being turned. She got out of bed and bent down to find something to put on to cover her naked body. She picked up House's shirt and put it on, doing only the two middle buttons between her breasts. Then, she left the bedroom, reeling bare feet to the living room.

House was there, seated on the couch, with his reading glasses on, only wearing his robe. In front of him on the coffee table, dozens of medical reviews and encyclopedias were opened randomly. Near the edge of the table, Cuddy noticed his notebook where he'd scribbled down some words, part of which had been hastily crossed out. She approached the couch's backrest, standing behind him and House, sensing her presence, tilted his head back and shot her a glance before returning back to his reading.

"It's almost four a.m.," she said softly.

"I couldn't sleep."

She bent over the back of the couch and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"What's all this?"

"I remembered there was an article that says somatotrophin and chicken prolactin administrated in the poultry industry can subsequently affects the pituitary gland to produce breast milk hormones," he reeled off without looking at her. "Especially in the case of a change of diet from an Organic Raw Vegetarian to Semi Vegetarian-"

"House-"

"Or it could be DCIS. A mammogram would-"

"House," she repeated. "That's ok. I'm afraid too, you know."

"I'm not afraid," he lied. "I just wanna know what we're dealing with once and for all."

Cuddy sighed and walked round the couch to sit next to him. She leaned to the side and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I want that too," she whispered evenly. "But we're not going to do that now. Just come back to bed-"

"Go if you want. I'll join you in a minute," House mumbled, still focusing on the medical review on his lap.

Cuddy stood up, resignedly, knowing that he wouldn't come until he'd have found the beginning of an acceptable solution to soothe his overactive mind.

"Just a minute then. I'm getting cold all alone in your bed," she said with a pout.

At the sound of her beseeching voice, House finally lifted up his head to look at her, and it seemed he only then realized that she was standing half-naked in front of him, wearing only his shirt. He glanced one last time at the pile of books and reviews on the coffee table and then back at her, contemplating his options. Cuddy flashed him a sexy smile and put out an inviting hand to him. He sighed, defeated, and removed his glasses from his nose, putting them down beside him. He closed the review and she helped him stand up.

Hand in hand, they walked back to the bedroom in silence.

A/N

Thank you so much for your reviews on the previous chapter. After such a long absence, I wasn't expecting to get such a response, and an awesome token of your presence. I was really humbled by your support and kindness. You rock!

Keep sharing your thoughts, I'd love to hear where you imagine this is going, what kind of a disease you think Cuddy has… Or if you think House will figure it out?

Enjoy life, give love ~ maya