I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. ;-) Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I still don't own House, but if I did...whoa.
Chapter 2
House disintegrated before her eyes, sinking onto the bed as if his legs were giving out. He looked away from her, but she could see from the stiffening of his spine and the grip he had on his thigh, he was reinforcing the walls around his heart.
Oh, shit!
"House, we need to do this right," she rushed to say, stepping between his legs and cupping his chin in her hands to force him to look at her. He only looked through her, lost in his own raging emotions.
"I'm trying," he said. The despair in his tone broke her heart, the frustration frightened her.
I'm screwing this up.
"Listen to me," her voice was thick with emotion. "Don't close me out."
"Pretty sure you're the one doing that," he snapped, pulling away from her.
"House," she sighed and reached out for him.
House flinched, physically withdrawing from her as much as emotionally; Cuddy panicked, desperately searching for a clue to how she could draw him back to her. They stood on such a fragile plain. She needed to find the words to comfort him, to explain what she was thinking and feeling before he shut down and they lost yet another chance.
"So glad I could get you all lubed up for him," his spit out. "Maybe now he can get you off."
Cuddy jerked as if she'd been hit. She knew he was lashing out because he was hurt and afraid, but it didn't make it sting any less.
"Don't do that." Her voice remained calm, in direct contrast to the storm inside her. "Don't use what I've told you against me…and don't make light of what we have together."
"We don't have anything."
"I love you!" Her voice grew angry. "That doesn't mean anything?"
"Those are just words."
Cuddy turned away from him, reeling from the venom in his tone and fighting back the tears.
House grabbed her hand and frantically pulling her back to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist as he burrowed his head between her breasts.
"I don't want you to go." His voice vibrated in her chest.
Cuddy sighed and ran her fingers through his hair. It was never easy for them.
"I don't want to go," she said. "But I don't want to start our relationship out with guilt and doubts and unnecessary issues. We've got enough against us. We need to do this right."
House had pulled back as she talked and was staring at her with wide, curious eyes.
"Relationship?" She couldn't believe he was looking at her so bewildered.
"Well, I'm not just here for sex."
"Obviously."
She shook her head, grinning at his sarcasm, but a little exasperated as well. What did he think this was all about?
"You're so frustrating." She reached out to touch him again, her fingers sliding through his hair. "I need to call it off with Lucas. I need to close that door."
House was quiet and still, considering her words.
"It wouldn't be right for us to make love while he's still in the picture."
His arms had loosened as she talked and his hands roamed over her ass.
She groaned as her body immediately responded to his touch. "You're killing me."
"You're not the one in danger of a bad case of blue balls," he said.
He kissed her just below her breast, then again a little lower. When she felt him drop a little lower, she pulled away from him.
"Uh, uh. Don't distract me," she said. "This is the right thing to do."
"Says who?"
Cuddy grabbed the dirty scrubs she'd removed the night before from the chair where she'd placed them, and began getting dressed.
"Right for us," she said.
House watched her dress and vaguely listened as the explained her plan. She would break it off with Lucas and make arrangements for Julia to watch Rachel for a couple of days. She needed to check in at the hospital – the board will want to schedule a post-mortem to evaluate how the hospital responded to this crisis – and she was having an issue with neurosurgery that left the ER in danger of being shut down if she didn't give it some attention.
"I can be back here by 7:00 and maybe we can have dinner…and see how we want to handle this," she suggested. House hadn't said a word. He hadn't moved from his position on the bed. She could see he had drifted into a dark place.
"Or you can have me for dinner?"
He barely acknowledged her flirtation. She felt her stomach tighten with anxiety.
"What is it?"
He shook his head, his shoulders slumping in a defeat she didn't understand.
"You won't be back," he said.
"What?"
He stared down at the floor. "You'll take one look at your daughter and remember all the reasons you didn't choose me in the first place."
"House, no," she tried to reassure him.
He stood to face her. "You'll go back home, back to all your comfortable and familiar surroundings and you'll think about what will happen when I slip back into drugs, or when I put myself - and possibly you – in danger just to solve a stupid puzzle. You'll remember all the things I've said and done to hurt you and you won't want to go through that again."
He looked away from her, into a scenario so heartbreaking his eyes glossed over from the pain. "You'll look at Lucas and decide his faults aren't really so bad," he said. "When you leave this apartment, you'll be gone for good."
Oh, House.
"You're such an idiot," she said softly. He stood so beautifully naked before her, and yet so battle-scarred and broken. She came to stand close to him, placing her hands on his biceps in a loose embrace. "I know you're a recovering addict," she pointed out. "I know you live with chronic pain and can be extremely cruel when you're fighting it."
She moved her hands up to his shoulder in a light caress, circling around the bandage on his shoulder before dropping them to his chest. "I also know you're brilliant and challenging and fun, and I've never felt more at home than I did waking up in your arms today."
He blinked and gazed at her softly. She knew he was remembering the feeling; he'd felt it too.
"You need to trust me," she said. "Trust us...I will be back."
House gave a single nod. He wasn't convinced, but he was trying.
She kissed him and hugged him, smiling when she felt his arms slide around her.
"I'll bring takeout," she said. "So we won't waste anytime cooking."
House grinned. It didn't make it to his eyes.
"I'll take you back to your car," he mumbled, and turned to dress.
There was nothing more she could say to comfort him, to recapture the safety they'd shared this morning. The only thing that would reassure him was her actual return.
I will be back.
#####
It was several hours later when Wilson found him sitting in the chair in his bedroom staring at two medicine bottles. The mirror had been torn off the wall in his bathroom revealing a fist-sized hole in the sheetrock.
"How many did you take?" he asked.
It didn't surprise him to find House with Vicodin. He'd been struggling for weeks, feeling lost since Sam had re-entered his life, and feeling hopeless now that Cuddy was really serious about Lucas. After hearing how difficult it had been at the disaster site, and that House and Cuddy had bitterly argued in the midst of it, he'd been worried. He'd been afraid his friend would relapse. It looks like his fears were valid.
"None," House said and looked up at Wilson. "But I want to."
Wilson waited. There wasn't much he could say. Of course he wanted the drugs. Then he'd only feel numb.
"They're my secret, secret stash," House said. Cuddy always suspected that's how he worked. She wouldn't be surprised to find he'd never really cleared all of his stash.
It's why she won't come back.
"You okay?" Wilson finally asked.
"No, and I don't know that I will ever be," House answered and stood to walk over to Wilson. "But I know this never worked in the past."
He handed Wilson the two bottles. "Get rid of them," he said, limping out of the bedroom.
Wilson looked down at the bottles, relieved, but still concerned. House was clearly not in a good place. And he had no idea how to help him.
#####
Cuddy looked up from her desk, surprised to see Wilson barreling through the doors.
Her eyes went wide at his harried look.
"What's wrong?" she asked. He placed two pill bottles on her desk in response.
Her stomach dropped.
No. No. No.
"When?"
"I just came from his apartment," he said.
Cuddy wanted to scream. To cry. To rail against the unfairness of it all.
"He said he didn't take any," Wilson said.
She jerked to attention, breathing a deep sigh of relief.
"And you believe him." It wasn't a question. She believed him. She had to.
"I think I do," he said. "He's too much of a wreck to have taken anything."
Oh, House. Believe in me.
"I tried to hang around and talk to him, but he wanted to be alone," Wilson explained. "You know how he is. The more I tried, the more impossible he got. He's crawling into that dark cave of his and there's not a damn thing I can do."
"But he didn't take the drugs," she said. "That's good."
Wilson sighed. "It is," he agreed. "But I'm scared. Maybe I shouldn't be, but I am. He's been through a lot and…"
"He's going to be okay."
"You don't know that."
"You don't know he won't."
"He feels alone."
"He's not alone."
"He feels like I've abandoned him since Sam came back into my life."
"He knows better."
Wilson stood up and began to pace. "It's not about what he knows," Wilson said, clearly agitated. "I know you're happy with Lucas, but you must know how hard that is on him. He's losing it, Cuddy."
"I'm not happy with Lucas," she said.
Wilson turned to look at her, his expression a cross between surprised and confused.
"I broke up with him this morning," she said.
"What? When? Why?" He was such a nerd when he stammered like that.
Cuddy leaned back in her chair. She wasn't sure how much she should tell him. This was between her and House. If they were going to start this out right, they should probably do it without Wilson's uncontrollable meddling.
"I was with House last night," she admitted.
Wilson sank into the guest chair.
"It's not what you think," she said. "We're working through our relationship, but it's just a weird place right now."
"Your relationship?"
"Why is that word so surprising?" she asked, exasperated. "Yes, our relationship."
"What the hell happened at the crash site?"
Cuddy smiled. "I came to my senses," she said.
Wilson frowned.
"You can't play around with this, Cuddy," he said. "This is serious."
"It's very serious," she acknowledged. "We've got a lot to figure out, and I don't know how this is going to go, but…."
"You love him." He wasn't surprised. She'd love him for years. These past few months of trying to make Lucas into something he could never be was just her running from the truth.
She shrugged. "I do."
"Is that going to be enough?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I'm giving this my all. If it doesn't work, it won't be because I didn't fight for it."
Wilson stared at her for seconds, reading her emotions as only a long-time friend can do. "He'll fight for you," he reassured her. "He loves you."
"I hope so," she said. "I really hope so."
#####
It was nine o'clock.
She wasn't there. She hadn't come.
House chugged down the last bit of bourbon before tossing the glass across the room. It shattered against the wall, sprinkling the floor with broken shards and splinters.
How could she do this?
He'd spent all day fighting his doubts and fears, trying to have hope when it wasn't his forte, trying to have faith when nothing in his past had ever helped him believe.
How could she not do this?
She'd done what he knew she would do. She'd remembered. This was his fault. He'd ruined any chance with her a long time ago. Hell, he'd ruined any chance at happiness before he even knew he wanted it. He had no one to blame but himself.
He shouldn't have given Wilson the drugs. What an idiot! At least if he'd taken the Vicodin he wouldn't feel the shooting pain in his thigh, or the heat burning the muscle. He wouldn't feel the knife in his heart.
He should get drunk. Drown himself in a bottle. Become the next cliché for a sad country song. Maybe bury himself between the legs of a hooker and forget this day never happened. Forget her.
I need to get out of here.
Everything reminded him of her. She'd only been here for a few hours and she'd forever marked her spot. He could even smell her. Her scent lingered on the sofa, on his clothes, on his skin.
He limped angrily down the hall to the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the shower. He'd wash off her memory and maybe even relieve some of the tightness in his leg. Then, he'd decide what bar would best meet the needs of a dying man.
House stood under the hot spray for a long time, the water easing his tension...and washing away his bravado. He slumped against the tiled wall.
She's gone.
This time it was real. This time he'd really lost.
The curtain jerked open and he jumped with a start.
Cuddy. Naked. Cuddy. He couldn't think.
"I'm late," she said and stepped into the shower. "My sister is a pain in the ass and your phone is not on!"
She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his jaw.
Cuddy. Here.
His synapses weren't firing correctly.
"I told you to trust me."
"I did," he said. His hand ran up and down her back and he turned fully into her embrace. "Until 7:02."
"It's good you gave me such a window of opportunity," she said dryly.
House grinned and pulled her under the spray with him. She laughed and buried his head in her neck.
She's here.
She kissed his shoulder, careful of the exposed wound, dropped her hands to cup his rear.
"I've been thinking about this all day," she said flirtatiously.
He leaned back and looked at her with such raw emotion.
"I thought…"
"I know," she said, and kissed him. He opened his mouth and slipped his tongue inside to meet hers in that familiar sensual dance.
They'd shared a variety of kisses in the past: the anxious, fumbling first kisses in college, the desperate, heartbroken kiss after she lost joy, the gentle, soothing kisses from last night and the heated, demanding kisses from the morning. This was none of those. This was a kiss of need and longing, of commitment and promise.
They took time to enjoy each other, to just be together. She bathed him. He bathed her. He washed her hair. She tried to wash his.
She didn't know how long they remained in the shower relishing the freedom to touch and explore, but when the water began to cool, House turned the tap and helped her step over the wall of the tub.
He used the towel to dry her, his touch tender and careful. She did the same for him.
His eyes never left hers as they made their way into the bedroom. So much was said in the silence. This was it. This was the turning point; this was their beginning.
As they sank into the softness of the bed, he began to caress her, his touch so feather light it was as if he were holding a precious, timeless treasure. If she'd ever doubted he cared for her, that doubt was removed. His adoration was clear in every touch, in every move.
He rained kisses over her eyes and cheeks, down her jaw and over her lips. She'd never felt so cherished. As his lips traveled down her neck and down the slope of her breast, she pushed against his tongue, her body instinctively craving more. He didn't deny her.
He lapped and sucked on her hardened nipple, igniting the invisible fuse connected to her core and causing her to writhe beneath him. He was nothing if not fair and balanced, making certain to provide equal attention to the other breast. Each kiss and lick sent a wave of sensation directly between her legs.
His mouth moved down her belly and over her hipbone then down her thigh. She bent her leg and instinctively spread her legs wide for him. He kissed up her other thigh and over that hipbone before moving toward her center.
She held her breath as he traced the thin strip of hair down her mound to where it disappeared in the heat of her folds. She looked down at him and caught his clear blue eyes staring at her. He wasn't just waiting for permission or acceptance, he was waiting for her to see him, to acknowledge she was fully with him. As if she could be anywhere else!
"House," she whispered.
He flattened his tongue against her, the deep crevice of his tongue creating a light suction as he licked straight up her center. She groaned and threw her head back against the pillow. Had anything every felt this amazing?
He licked and nibbled along the fatty flesh of her slit, bringing every nerve ending to life and creating an avalanche of need. She could feel the onset of her orgasm and knew it wouldn't take much for him to push her over the edge. He knew it too. He increased the tortuous rhythm of his tongue, focusing his attention on the nub that was her passion switch.
Cuddy's orgasm came fast and furious. She writhed and panted and gripped his head as the contractions built in her womb. Her back arched and her entire body became tight with spasms as her climax washed over her, wave after wave.
House scaled her body, kissing and caressing her sensitive skin along the way, until he hovered above her. She felt his hand between them as he slid his erection through her moisture; she jerked against him.
She looked up at him as he hovered just about her entrance. He swallowed hard, barely holding back his need, but awaiting her signal. She pushed her hips against him, her knees gripping his hips to guide him.
He hissed her name as he slid into her slickness and felt her walls tighten around him.
Cuddy watched his face as he savored the full sensation of being sheathed in her. She knew the feeling. She felt herself drifting into a state of bliss.
He moved inside her, pulling and pushing, building the friction between them. Her head was spinning with the ecstasy of being so close to him, united and inseparable. She squeezed her internal muscles, locking him deep within her and House gasped. He pushed harder and deeper; she felt the rhythm of his heart pulsing through his engorged flesh just before he spasmed and released himself inside her. The feel of his heat, his balls against her ass, his skin against her swollen clit, it was all too much. She lost herself in a flash of light and sensation, and she locked her legs around him as she rode it out.
#####
He was surrounding her again, his legs tangled with hers, his body cupped around her as his fingers followed the line of her arm from should to elbow. Who would have thought this man who kept everyone at a distance would be an obsessive snuggler?
Cuddy felt the sheet slipping down her body as he pulled it away from her.
"Stop it," she said. "It's cold in here."
"I'm here to keep you warm," he pulled her even tighter into him. They could be Siamese twins at this point.
She felt the sheet slipping again.
"House," she warned.
"But I want to look at you," he whined.
"You've got years to look at me," she said and rolled over onto her other side so she could face him.
"I'm not getting any younger," he said. "My eyes may grow dim and I won't be able to appreciate your beauty."
"We'll remove the cataract, grandpa."
His hands slid over her ass and he squeezed playfully. "Maybe we shouldn't," he teased. "Braille isn't so bad."
Cuddy laughed and ran her fingers along his beard. It had grown thicker over the last few days and she couldn't resist the course texture, or the memory of what it could do.
House stared at her with that worshipful look that both excited and scared her. She was so afraid of disappointing him, almost as afraid as he was of letting her down.
"I love you," he said.
Her breath caught. They'd spent two days locked in his apartment, making love, talking, playing, planning, yet this was the first time he'd uttered those words. He'd shown her though. In every way he'd shown her.
"I know I'm not your first choice," he said. "And being with a crippled, antisocial addict with definite depressive tendencies will likely drive you insane, but…"
She pushed him onto his back and straddled him, pinning his wrists slightly above his head.
"You're my first, last and only choice, House," she said, smiling down at him. "And if there's one thing I know, it's that this brilliant, sexy rogue has a way of creating life from the ashes."
She slid against him seductively, knowing how quickly he would respond. He wasn't one to disappoint.
"See what I mean?" she grinned sexily as she felt his growing erection.
"I can do a lot of things with the right partner," he said, moving his hands from beneath hers to grip her back and waist as he flipped her beneath him. She wrapped her legs around him, locking them at the ankles.
"Show me," she said.
And he did.
THE END