You can't always get what you want

Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital as well as a full time babysitter to a certain diagnostician. "I wanted to be a doctor from the time I was twelve. I graduated medical school at 25, pissed off that I was second in my class. Chief of Medicine at 32. Second youngest ever, first woman." "There are three female Chiefs of Medicine at major hospitals in this country and we all got there using our feminine wiles." "I do not protect people I like. I protect people who are assets to this hospital."

[sherifforcuddle]

[gregory-house-md]

Cuddy was a strong woman, without a doubt the strongest House had known. Sure he’d met harder women, more audacious ones; ones that perhaps, appeared stronger from far away, or had that hard edged outline that was often as conceived ‘strength’. But when it came to a sort of close up, true inner strength, a determined resoluteness, an unyielding courage that he respected behind his veneer of smarm and apparent disregard for the rules of the institution she ran, she was just about as tough as they came. After all, she’d had to deal with him for years, and now she was dealing with him as somebody she had allowed to get close to her. That was strength. Of course, good luck on getting him to actually tell her all of that in words, but he showed it to her, every time he looked at her in those silent, private moments between them.

But right now, this was Cuddy at her most vulnerable. He knew her pride had been wounded out there, what it took to get her to this point. He knew how much she hated to feel scared right in her own territory, where she was supposed to be in control and flawlessly confident. He watched her shakily tell him she wanted to go home, watched her fight the emotion she’d attempted to bottle up, knowing it was a losing battle.

And then, all at once, she was leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him; holding onto him, and burying her face against his neck; seeking his protection and comfort. Once again, he cursed the goddamn wheelchair for keeping him so constricted, but she managed to embrace him as best she could. And then the tears came; not an uncontrolled bawling, but a slow, steady cadence to the full weight of what had just occurred, and more poignantly, what could have occurred. He wrapped his own arms around her, his hands clasping tightly over the petite curve of her back. “I know, baby…,” he whispered into her hair. Endearing words, they came so easy with her. An ‘I know’ for her wanting to go home, yes, but also much so more than that.

He turned his head to the side, nuzzling up against her temple and placing a soft kiss there; blinking rapidly as the raw quality of her words reached him. “I love you too.” He was right here, with her; he wasn’t going anywhere. He knew that it would still take time for her to fully trust him again, if ever. But it was all he could do to transfer every bit of that resolute desire in him to want to do everything in his power to be there for her, in his own way, which was the only way he knew how.

Aware that Clitorisse was still sitting there, bearing witness to an exposed, private moment between he and Cuddy, House would just have to give it up that he wasn’t as big of an ass as he’d wanted the woman to believe he was. Continuing to hold onto Cuddy, he lifted his head just enough to give Clitorisse an earnest look, nodding over at the box of Kleenexes on the end table. “Mind yanking a few of those out…”

[dr-vance-blog]

She felt like she was intruding on a personal moment, so she kept her head down as they talked. She didn’t like House, but he really did love Lisa. Despite his faults, he really loved her. She looked up and saw his expression. She gave him a wry grin, taking the olive branch and stepping to the end table, grabbing the box after pulling a few out, just in case it was needed. She handed the tissues over, putting the box in reach, her eyes lowered to acknowledge that she’d never talk about this to anyone. She wasn’t that much of a bitch, even to him.

“As soon as everything’s unlocked and we’re free to go, I’ll bring the car around the front.” She said quietly, then stepped back towards her seat at the door, letting them ignore her if they wanted, which they probably would. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

Cuddy kept her head buried in the crook of her lover's neck even as she heard him exchange words with her best friend. Exposed was definitely the way to explain how she felt. Both had seen her break down before. Both she trusted to be there for her 100 percent, but having them both there at the same time? It was a bit much to say the least. The comfort she would receive from House would be different than that which she would receive from Clarisse. The negative part of her was sure that her friend would judge House for how he dealt with her. Logic told her that her friend was better than that, but in a moment where her pride had already received a beating she could only think the worst. 

Time marched on and eventually the tears subsided, but she didn't pull away. She spent the remainder of their time in the office with her feet tucked up under her and her body leaning across the sliver of space between the couch and his wheelchair so that she could sidle up to him as best as possible with her head resting on his shoulder.

Before she wasn't sure what she wanted. Now all she could think of was home much she just wanted to go home with him and curl up under the covers. He could watch his trash tv and she could bury herself against his side. The sting of the day would pass, she was sure but for now she was completely raw.

The code was called off, and she frowned at the speaker overhead, "They aren't supposed to call it off without my consent." The slightly bitter words showed a glimpse of the administrator she truly was. No one called codes off without her knowledge. She cursed herself for appearing weak, but there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it now. Damage was done.

As promised Clarisse drove them home. Cuddy helped House mechanically to get into the wheel chair then even went so far as to hug her friend, "Thank you." The soft spoken words encompassed so much. A thanks for being her friend. A thanks for letting her have her moment with House in her own way. A thanks for the ride home. It was everything.

She pushed House inside then immediately went through their process of getting him ready for bed (at four in the afternoon mind you) then her as well. She was striving for the ultimate comfort for them both, "We can order you something to eat whenever." She was in no place to eat anything, but she acknowledged that he might be hungry.

Forty minutes of prep including a shower and finally she got her wish. She turned on the tv for him then buried herself against his side willing the entire day to disappear by mere thought alone.

[gregory-house-md]

If there was one thing you could count on with House, it was that he wasn’t going to force affection or comfort on you. You were generally lucky to get ‘nice’ out of him, but this was Cuddy; Cuddy with him, and even still, he wasn’t going to push anything on her. He was fully aware of what she was doing here. She was going to retreat into herself; throw up her defenses and isolate it all. She was confused about what she wanted, so a sort of internal stand off was occurring. They weren’t so unlike. 

Her apology was met with a vaguely disapproving look on his part. There she went, saying she was sorry, sorry for something that was completely out of her control; her hospital or not. As if she could have done anything to stop some crazy asshole who was hell bent on doing whatever his demented mind was telling him to do. And House knew where her mind was going. As if she could have done anything to stop Jack Moriarty from walking into Diagnostics and shooting him. As if she could have done anything to stop him from nearly overdosing on morphine those few months back, or him driving off the Turnpike just weeks ago. Things happened, and more often than not, they were going to happen on their own accord. But this was Cuddy in full shut down mode, reason did not apply.

The guilt, all that guilt she harbored shut her down, and turned in on itself. He was concerned, yes, but for her sake. She’d been about six inches away from taking a bullet, and that was just going on what he saw. He didn’t even know had happened in detail, yet. But if she wanted to feel bad for him, merely feel bad that he’d been locked in here with Clitorisse for nearly twenty minutes, and nothing more. She spent so much time worrying about him, and yet, he knew there wasn’t much he could do about that. Cuddy worried about House; and the Earth revolved around the Sun.

Calling her out on all of it right now was just going to send her over the edge, and while he may have done that last year, he’d wizened up (a bit) in some areas. That didn’t make him any more likely to just let her sit and stew in all of it though. He wasn’t going to allow her to retreat, not on her own at least. Whatever had happened, he knew she was going to allow the weight of it all press down on her, but like him, she was going to have to learn to do deal with having somebody around to lessen that burden. He was new at this, being the needy bastard that he was, but he knew he had to try.

Bending down, he wrapped an arm around the back of her knees and briefly propped her feet up on his knees, and slipping off her heels and so she could curl her legs up more comfortably. This done with a sort of quiet, brow furrowed, determination on his part. “We’ll get out of here as soon as we can,” he said quietly; fully aware he was stating a redundant, moot, and thus idiotic, point. 

He glanced over his shoulder at Clitorisse, still seated by the door. “I’m sure Clitorisse here will be a pal and give us a lift home.” Chancy could be anywhere at this point, and House wasn’t going to wait around to try and find him once the Code was called off.

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

Cuddy watched with avid interest, but no participation, as he scooped up her knees to bring her legs up to his lap. Her shoes were discarded to the side and she could only assume he was trying to make her more comfortable. A gesture small for someone else, but big for him. He was trying to care for her. He did that well. Better than he probably realized. She thought back to the day she found out about her dad's death as well as the days that followed. He was so good for her. So good with her. 

Her bottom lip trembled as she looked at House and she bit down on it to hold it steady. How close had she come to never seeing him again? She had always assumed he would go first, but it had all almost been snatched away without permission from either of them. A good man was currently having a bullet removed from her in sacrifice for the life she was going to continue to live. 

In that moment she was sure she had never loved House more. She had always seen their future together, but it was in a new shade now. If possible she probably valued it more. Life in all of its random and crazy events had screeched by yet again and allowed her to live another day with him. 

"I want to go home." She admitted in a shaky voice as tears rolled down her cheeks. Leaning forward her arms found their way around him as best she could and her head tucked into the crook of his neck. She cried out her feelings, slow tears meant to relieve her of some of the pressure she was trapped under. Deep breaths in and out, she clung to him for dear life, "I love you." Muffled words of appreciation and devotion, every emotion she felt for him wrapped up in a phrase that still didn't seem to be enough to express everything she felt.

[dr-vance-blog]

She heard the moment that the men entered the office, and stayed back a moment to assess who they were. When she recognized them as security and saw the bloodied Cuddy, she immediately went into action. She wet some paper towels, and then went into the office.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” She asked, slowing down so she didn’t overwhelm Lisa, helping her out of her jacket and making her stand long enough so she could check her pulse. “And don’t say your pride, because I’ll smack you.” She gave her a warm smile, once it was ascertained that she was fine, just in shock. She wiped the blood off of Lisa’s face. “I’ll be over here so you two can have a moment.”

She didn’t care if House wanted to check Cuddy first, she was going to make sure her best friend was at least physically okay, she’d leave her mental health to her boyfriend until she could sit and chat with her at the house girl-to-girl. She went in the bathroom and grabbed the untouched salad. She went back in the room and put it on the desk for Cuddy to eat, then pulled the visitor chair to the office door so she could watch the hallways, texting back and forth with others in the hospital.

[gregory-house-md]

Didn’t take a Diagnostician to see that Cuddy was in shock; not shock, shock, but shocked enough to have entered that stunned, dull, vacant, non-emotive headspace a step right before shock; the mind’s natural defense mechanism to trauma. It’s the place people went right before they had a breakdown. He knew her well though; she wouldn’t stay there for long. He couldn’t be sure of precisely what she’d seen, but bullets entering people next to you didn’t exactly settle well with your average person. She’d concentrate on that jacket, just like she’d concentrated on the spot on the kitchen tiles right after her father died.

Even as a cripple, House would have at least been able to get up and get over to Cuddy before Clitorisse did, but the goddamn wheelchair pretty much impaired all of his well meaning efforts. Nor was he going to try to roll his way over there when he knew it would be to just sit there awkwardly while Clitorisse did her concerned best friend thing. So, he stayed back as that played itself out, which while a bit on the smothering side, at least made some practical sense; getting rid of the jacket, and briefly checking Cuddy’s vitals (he, of course, wouldn’t have needed to even do that to know what they were). While he waited, House eyed the salad that for some reason had made a trip into the bathroom and back onto the desk. Yeah, like Cuddy was in any state to be stuffing her face. A few bites of that, and she’d just be refunding it.

Once Clitorisse had moved away to seat herself closer to the doors, he wheeled himself out from around the desk and over to where Cuddy was still standing; still looking as if she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Without saying anything, he reached up and took her hand, leading her over to the couch as he slowly inched himself along with his other hand. Mechanically, she sat down on the cushions. Continuing to hold her hand, he turned himself so he was in front of her, but not directly so. 

“Hey,” he reached out and lightly brushed her hair off her shoulder. The blouse was stained pink where the jacket had been pulled away. Carefully, he moved her hair aside from that; as intensely deliberate and watchful as always. Traditionally comforting wasn’t exactly his style, but she would know he was right there.

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

Cuddy stood stock still while Clarisse took care of her, only giving enough so that she could actually take the jacket off of her. Even as it was moved to the side her eyes still followed where it went. She wondered if her dry cleaner could get out that much blood. She didn't want to lose it, but by the time she got to go to the cleaners it would be too set in. But they did have special cleaning solutions. She would have to see.

"I'm fine." She didn't see the humor in Clarisse's joke. Her pride was in ruins. There was no point in referencing that at all. What was so funny about her wounded pride? There was nothing funny right now at all.

It didn't take long at all for Clarisse to back off and give her some space. The ringing in her ears had finally let up. That was a good sign. She noticed that Clarisse had retrieved a salad from her bathroom. Why on earth had there been salad in her bathroom? That was far from sanitary.

House was next in line for the take care of Cuddy show. Surprisingly though he merely took her hand and guided her to the couch. She took a seat willingly and watched him intently as he brushed her hair from her shoulders, "Hi."

Her mind wandered back to all the many times that he had almost died. All of the danger he had put himself in. She had went and put herself in danger this time. He was on her normal side of things. She had never meant to upset or hurt him. Even in her own state of... well pre-shock her mind was focused on him and his feelings. They were easier to deal with than her own, "I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm sorry." Dry and still dull. Her voice didn't even sound like her own anymore. She wanted him with her, but at the same time she didn't. She found that the most appealing choice would be to leave the hospital and lock herself up in her bedroom for a long sleep, but there were two problems with that. One, the hospital was in lockdown still. Two, she shared that bed with him now. She was no longer alone. 

[gregory-house-md]

“Or,” House leaned down into the keyboard for emphasis, still sorting through the computer’s system files, “you don’t bother me with intelligent insults because you’re a puerile idiot who can’t come up with anything even remotely clever or effective to say.” He didn’t believe her excuse for one damn second. “The stupid hide behind apathy remarkably, not to mention ironically, well.”

He looked up from what he was doing as Clitorisse moved across the office, still texting like a tween, towards the open bathroom door; his gaze following her with a bemused glint. She was actually going into the bathroom. That had quite possibly been the most effortless manipulation he’d ever achieved. Squinting at her, her visage all at once could nearly be seen materializing into a pack of lemmings heading for the nearest cliff. If he’d only been fully aware that she was that gullible, he’d have told her to go do an Amy Chow out up on the balcony, five years ago.

Brow arching incredulously, he tilted his head back towards the open door to the bathroom she was now sitting in. “The babies? God, you shouldn’t have the responsibility of a baby, let alone babies. What’s Mama Bear baking up in the oven, monozygotic gingerbread embryos?” Who needed ‘Days’ when you had reality? He attempted to concentrate back on the computer, but the thought of Clitorisse actually hunkering down into domesticity was deeply disturbing. ”You know doing porn didn’t work out so well for the Octomom, right? Just sayin’.” Babies? Did Cuddy even know about this? Last he’d checked Clitorisse and Cuddy were supposed to be BFF’s, but he was positive that this was the first time the news of multiples had hit this office. “Yes,” he scoffed, “because you and Cuddy turned out to be so much alike.” He was still having difficulty even seeing how the two of them bonded to begin with, let alone managed to remain friends over the years.

Just as a sort of mutual, treaty-like silence had lapsed between he and Cher Horowitz, there was the distintive clamor of footsteps, and then keys jingling just outside the set of doors. House glanced up from the monitor, frowning at the cluster of uniforms now outside the glass. The Code hadn’t been called off, so there was something else going on here; and just right when he and Clitorisse were getting so chummy….

The explanation arrived in the form of a group of grim faced NJPD officers, the sort of tight assed crowd that came with the Hostage Negotiations Unit, bursting into the office. In their midst, they appeared to be delivering for safekeeping, a dazed, pale faced, blood spattered Cuddy. The blood wasn’t hers, it was a fine radial spray covering nearly the entirety of the shoulder on her jacket. House didn’t have to pull a Dexter to see what had happened; somebody had been shot standing right next to her. She was no doubt still trying to sort out the higher register of her hearing, and by the looks of her, her entire bearings.

“She attempted to negotiate with the gunman,” the Prick In Charge informed the room, agitated that this stop had to be made. “We are placing her in here until the crisis has passed.” With that, the group turned around and promptly left, re-locking the doors behind them, and leaving Cuddy standing there; in trouble with the au-thor-it-ay.

House stared at her, gauging her current emotional state before making his next move. From within the adjoining bathroom he could still hear Clitorisse texting. 

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

"Of all the stupid, idiotic......"

The words of the negotiator that had finally decided to show up faded with the ringing in her ears. God when was that supposed to stop? She had never actually been around gunfire before. She hated guns. They scared her, and obviously for good reasons. Actually people with guns scared her. Guns on there own were virtually harmless, but that was a pretty obvious point.

Blood was soaking through the shoulder of her jacket onto her shirt, but she didn't dare look. They had rushed the security guard away. Bill. It had been Bill. She liked Bill. She owed Bill her life now.

Her mind was in a constant loop of trying to figure out if she had really been wrong. This was her hospital. It was her responsibility to make sure they were safe and cared for, but had she done more harm than good? A man had been shot because of her. FOR her. But she still whole heatedly believed that if she had sent those men in there alone there would have been more injuries. Maybe they should have just waited, but he was in the cafeteria with innocent people. A shot had already been fired. She couldn't stand the wait so she had pushed forward putting herself and others at risk.

She wasn't wrong, but she wasn't right either.

Suddenly she was being literally led by the arm away from the lobby where they had been lecturing her for the past ten minutes. He probably said something about it, but she had lost touch with it a long time ago.

Oh she was going to her office. House was in her office. House was staring at her. Why was he looking at her like she was his latest puzzle? Probably something to do with the blood on her face and shoulder. She turned her head to finally look at said shoulder and tugged at the sleeve a little, "I really liked this jacket..." She complained in a dull voice.

[jack-d-blog]

Jack laughed as an unknown man, apparently Bunny’s brother, jumped up from his seat. Seeing the completely obvious lunge, Jack easily sidestepped the attack. The man fell to the ground next to him with a thud. Gritting his teeth in anger, Jack swung his foot out, connecting with the mans ribs. Another sick crack was heard as the other man grunted in pain.

Lifting the gun up and pointing it towards the Aussie, Jack laughed again, “Nice try. Now, get your ass over to the wall. Or, I’ll shoot her.”, he said motioning towards the unconscious Lauren. Smirking, Jack then looked over at Taylor, “Or maybe her.”, he said with a dry laugh. 

[dr-robert--chase-blog]

Chase really should have seen this coming. The inevitable fall to the floor. The kick to the ribs. It was like he was one of those pathetic guys from a bad gangster movie trying to play the hero. 

The threats against not only his sister but also Taylor had him moving to the wall. He held his middle trying to ignore the pain of at least one broken rib. Eyes glared up at the offending party. This guy was a real piece of work.

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

"Call it." 

Cuddy paced the hall heels clacking against the linoleum. The code Silver sounded out through the hospital alerting everyone to the threat of an active shooter. Through the entire hospital security was spreading out to guard her staff and patients as well as to seek out the psych patient that lost his final screw and was on the loose.

Twenty minutes later news that there was a shooting in the cafeteria had her head down there with a squad of her own security as well as policemen. One stepped forward stating that he was going to talk to him, but she held up her hand, "Do you really think he won't shoot you on sight with that get up. You guys come with me. I'm talking."

She was not a trained negotiator, but the one she had called in wasn't damn well here yet. There was no way this was going to work if she just sent in a bunch of guys. With any luck they would be able to get him to calm down without anyone else getting shot.

She walked forward into the cafeteria with five armed policemen behind her, "Jonathan, I'm Dr. Cuddy." She gave a small nod trying to ignore the girl lying behind him, "You have to stop. You're surrounded. They want to arrest you, but if you give up now we can help you. You're sick. Is this really the man you want to be? Let us help you." Her voice was soft and pleading. Her eyes read of sincerity, but the policemen ready to take him down probably did not.

[aaronmpaul]

[gregory-house-md]

When Cuddy turned herself around, so she was kneeling with her back arching up against this chest, he was more than happy to comply with the new arrangement; not only did this position give his hand a far better angle, it was hot as hell. She rocked back into his embrace, her head tilting further and further over his shoulder, while he gradually quickened the pace, working her up into a peak of moaning pleasure until she came, bucking against his hand and shouting her elation at the ceiling. Half the neighborhood probably already thought she had a very intimate, unorthodox, relationship with her 'house' by this point; no need to stop now.

Once she'd stilled, he continued to hold her there; not that she seemed in any hurry to move. His hand moved back up the length of her torso, taking a boldly gluttonous moment to caress over her peaked breasts before dropping to rest down against the flat of her stomach, just below her navel. His long fingers splayed out, slowly tracing over that domicile of womanhood (or at least the one that society had placed as the culmination of it) that had betrayed her so painfully. The touch was not intended to bring them back there right now, but merely House's eccentric way of filing the memory away in a physiological fashion.

Between now far milder kisses, he smiled into the warm crook of her neck at her breathless words. “Makes me think that I should hold my thoughts more often.” Of course, the genuineness of that statement was entirely up for debate. A few more kisses peppered lazily over the crown of her shoulder before he rested his chin there, giving her a bright and affectionate sidelong look. “So, is this what us 'married' people do then? Because I'm starting to think the whole matrimony thing might have gotten a bad rap somewhere along the way..."

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

Cuddy snorted in amusement when he suggested he should hold his thoughts more often. The day that House started to hold back his thoughts would be the day she would have him committed for psych evaluation. Neither of them were very good at keeping their mouths shut, but he had, by far, less discretion than she did. She knew when her point would either be a) useless, b) offensive, or c) all of the above (not that she felt she was ever offensive). House didn't even acknowledge the possibility that he would be out of line to say something. Social protocal never played a dictating roll in his life.

When her legs started to go numb under her, she carefully shifted in favor of spreading her legs out in front of her. She was still wary of pressing her weight against him, and she leaned more to his good side just to be sure. She was also well aware that she could have moved, but she wasn't ready to. Sitting in front of him with his arm(s) around her was one of her favorite things. He enveloped her and it was oddly comforting. 

His chin settled on her shoulder, and a chuckle rumbled through her, "I don't know about other married couples, but this one obviously does." She tilted her head to catch his lips in a brief kiss, "Your wife has demanding needs." She stated in a teasing tone.

As they sat in companionable silence she let her hand trail along the arm that was around her. It was broken in time by her vocalization of where her thoughts had wandered off to, "I'm going to give back the key to your landlord." It wasn't a matter of being bossy. It was her way of telling him that she had confidence that they were in a good enough place that he wouldn't be needing that way out. If he had wanted it he would have never given her a ring.

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

There were a few certainties in life, and one of them was that House wanted to engage himself with Cuddy’s body on a level that he’d never wanted to engage with a woman’s body before. And why not? She had a gorgeous body, and he adored it, all of it. She had absolutely no reason to be ashamed or self conscious of it. Part of her sexiness was her undeniable self confidence; the fact that she could kneel right there in front of him, as naked as the day she was born and look like she had all the fearlessness and fortitude to take on the world, was a very powerful turn on. He was brash with her, possessive even; he objectified her, but it was an objectification of absolute exaltation. He just couldn’t get enough.

They were both generous lovers; this had been well established. That generosity to one another also served to cater to the fact that they were both simultaneously driven to seek out their own physical satisfaction. House could be greedy, but he’d found, particularity with Cuddy, that he could also be equally as charitable, because giving her pleasure was just as, or better, than getting his own. And yet, he hadn’t entirely expected her to go where she had just then, but the tilt of her suddenly devious smile told him just what her intentions were, even before she reached down to free him from his boxers and lean down to trace her lips and tongue over what had already become a painful erection.

He tilted his head down and watched her for a few moments, not making any move whatsoever to stop her, and with absolutely no intention of doing so. She had no qualms about oral sex, that also had been clear from the start. And that only intensified their already intense physical bond, because it was also a fact that he could never be fully physically compatible with somebody who wasn’t at the very least willing to color a bit outside the lines of sexual boundaries. After all, besides that whole procreating to continue to propagate the species thing, sex was supposed to be fun.

It was almost enough just watching her, but soon enough the mounting pleasure grew to be so, that he had to give up his view when the back of his head bumped up against the headboard; eyes rolling shut, his features slacking into an expression of pure and unadulterated ecstasy. Ask just about any man alive, and they would tell you there were few things in life better than getting head; that wasn’t misogyny talking, that was just the simple truth. It felt amazing, and knowing you were getting it from somebody who was doing it because they cared about you, made it just that much better.

He was certainly the quieter of the two of them in bed, by a long shot, but by the time he finally crested over the edge, he’d managed to groan out a few noises that were entirely incompressible in the English language, but perfectly clear in the universal human language of ‘oh my fucking god’. Unable to do much more than just sit there for a minute or so, breathing gradually slowing, he opened his eyes at last, gazing at her with that glassy, post-climax look. Naturally, he wanted to reciprocate; touching her and tasting her were things he craved, but that just wasn’t an option at the moment, at least not without some creative acrobatics that he was pretty sure she wasn’t going to be too willing to perform.

So, he leaned forward, and wrapped his arm around her, drawing her right back up against him, Initiating a new round of deep, desperate kisses (and no, he didn’t care at all where her mouth had just been) that soon trailed down into the crook of her neck, his fingers caressing her stomach and then down between her legs. When he was feeling more talkative, another time, he’d have to explain his playing the piano metaphor, but for the now, she’d just have to come to that conclusion on her own.

 There was no denying that pleasing him pleased her. Cuddy wore a sort of victorious smile after she had drew back from him. She was the reason he was left in a euforic state. She caused that pleasure. She had completely earned the kisses and caresses she was sure he would soon bestow on her. Oh yeah, she was just that good.

Her predictions had of course been correct. He drew her in and his hand wandered south. A tilt of her head and an adoring moan were elicited from her. The good thing about giving him his climax first was that she didn’t have to multi task. This could be all about her.

Knowing that kneeling in front of him just wasn’t going to last, she pushed his hand away briefly only to turn and sit with her back to his front without pressing her weight against him. His arm easily draped over her, and her head tilted back against him. Much better. Fingers played her like a well tuned instrument.

She was left moaning and eventually keening her way to climax. Her body arched forward with her head tilting further back against his shoulder and shook in response to him, and she called his name in a way she was sure he would tease her about waking neighbors. When all was said and done she remained in front of him not wanting to move. Trying to find the words all she could come up with was, “So glad you held that thought.”

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

Even if House had been more of an emotionally communicative man. Even if he didn’t make a habit of dropping words like heavy stones onto exposed toes. Even if he could find just the right pairing of phrases to tell her how he felt right now, assuming he could even pair that down to something that could be phrased, he was perceptive enough, at least at this moment, to know better. There wasn’t anything he could say to Cuddy that would give her back that hope she’d once had for that child. Nothing that would really take away that lingering pain that she tried to hide; a pain he could see so clearly. Nothing that would make her forget the experience of miscarrying. After all, he hadn’t really been there for any of it; physically or emotionally. And as the conversation between them had just concluded, that had been for the better. But that didn’t change the fact that Cuddy still bore that burden, what she viewed as her great failure. For better or for worse it was now a part of who she was, and as her companion, her lover, he could not ignore that. She might view it as something to keep walled off from him, but he was here with her, fears, pain, failures and all.

Right now, all he could do, all that seemed to make sense to him, was to show her that, and he was going to do his damnedest to make sure he ‘spoke’ as clearly and ardently as possible. Those languid, easy kisses between them picked up as if they had never stopped, this time without the mood slaughtering mention of Wilson. She moved his hand up to her breast, and his smirk against her mouth told her in a gesture that, no, he hadn’t lost that thought whatsoever. The hungry caress around her breast and thumb circling over the rising nipple that followed right behind told her that even more overtly. Eager to get into a more comfortable position, he scooted himself around so he was sitting upright against the headboard; really the safest and most effective way to keep his back supported, and she took the prompt to settle herself down between his thighs as he stretched his long legs out and along either side of her; keeping his casted leg as far out of the way as possible. It wasn’t ideal, seeing as what he really wanted to do was pull her down on top of him (for starters), but this would have to do for now; and damn it, if they couldn’t work with what they had.

Momentarily breaking free from her lips, he lowered his head and worked patient, slow, sensual, open mouthed kisses down that elegant line of her neck; chin and stubble and everything masculine about him simultaneously contrary and form fitting to her. His one available hand continued to adoringly favor those celebrated breasts, alternating as it felt called. As she arched up against him, he began working the loose t-shirt of his that she was wearing up over her torso, and just as it seemed as if he was going to pull it over her shoulders, he craned his neck down and dipped his head underneath it; forming a naughty little tent that served to bring his mouth right where it needed to be for the moment. He could feel her chuckle more than hear it, but the laughter quickly faded away into something far more carnal as he began tracing the underline of that superb cleavage with the tip of his tongue, moving with a controlled, but undeniably indulging rhythm, over the topography of each.

In a telling, short amount of time that prompted the shirt to come entirely off, and he was slipping his hand down, over the curve of her back to blatantly grab a palm of ass, before pulling at the slim hem of her underwear; his mouth seeking out hers with a heightened sense of urgency.  

They were nothing if not creative. Long gone were the days of walls between them built so high that they wouldn't even try to work around his impairing injuries. Now it was a challenge they gladly took on.

She laughed when he ducked under her shirt, but it didn't last long. His actions left her fidgeting under his touch and small moans filled with need escaped her lips. The man showed devotion to her body, and said body responded in kind.

There was something about the way he touched and grabbed her. A type of possessive way that left her wanting more. She had never thought she would be okay with someone almost feeling as if they owned her, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't his for the taking.

She kissed him like it would be their last, a desperate need tinging it. Hips and hands aided in the removal of her underwear until she was left kneeling stark naked on the bed in front of him. Other women might have felt vulnerable, but she wore a confident smile that told of a woman comfortable in her body and in the knowledge that her man loved what he saw.

With the kiss broken she pulled from him letting her smile turn more mischievous. The damn casting impaired his own nudity but she was able to uncover what was essential to the both of them.

Bent over in front of him she let one hand move up to his hip while her other tucked under to support her. Tongue met skin to tease him before taking him into her mouth. Luckily they were both willing to give in such ways. Others would kill to have the sex life they had.

[selena-soto]

[gregory-house-md]

It couldn’t be denied that House liked to play games with people, ones that were often callus to others emotions, at best. To say he had been playing a game with Cuddy during the time of her donor search, as well as the span of injections he’d given her, would not be entirely accurate; but it couldn’t be denied that he had been well aware of what he was doing when he had told her to find somebody she liked, only to be as equally aware that he would tell her no if she asked him (at least initially, as his explanation clarified). Had he set it up to intentionally hurt her? It was difficult to say; House often did things that were entirely contradictory to even his own desires. But it would have hurt her nonetheless, to have asked, to have put all of her pride and hope on the line like that, and then had them flatly cast off with a cool, premeditated answer. Knowing all that he knew now, House realized in full that she would have been crushed. It was for the better that hadn’t of asked him then, for both of them.

As she touched his face, he laid there, head still cradled in her lap, and listened to her muse on the baby they might have had together; watching the mixture of emotions play across her features, that far away look in her eyes as she conjured up the characteristics of that child. House would be lying to himself if he said that he’d never spent a few moments considering that same child; the insatiably curious boy with her dark hair and bright smile, her charm and patience, and yeah, maybe a few of his traits as well. He wasn’t entirely sure if he agreed with her, in that he was ‘so good’ with kids; but there was something about kids that was undeniably easier for him to relate to. That of course wouldn’t come as much of a surprise to anybody who knew him. Did that quantify him as a good father? He honestly wasn’t sure. He had far too many emotional complications being the alienated son of some man as it was. If he had insecurities, many of them crawled and festered in that dark corner of his psyche.

Then Cuddy spoke of the miscarriage, and the image of that beautiful child was whisked away. He remained still, silent, his attention never leaving her face. She was right. He may have made a good donor, but to have gone through that, irregardless of how much he insisted that he would not be involved, would have been difficult. It certainly would have changed things between them; to such an extreme that he doubted they would find themselves lying together like this, two years, or even ten years, down the road.

The mood lightened somewhat when she half joked about their mutual desire to have tried it the ‘natural way’ if any trying had been done. “Yeah, it would have been fun,” he said at last, quietly, his hand continuing to play along the length of her thigh; a reminder of that ‘fun’, no matter its intended purpose. Of course, it would have been fun; the challenge of it all, figuring out her cycle down to the hour, setting a schedule, and then days of ‘having’ to have sex as much as possible? Repeat, until pregnant, or at least satisfied to know that they had tried their best. Yeah, House would have achieved in that, without a doubt.

His hand stilled on her thigh, the leer that had crept onto his lips faded. This was a topic that he knew still haunted her; it probably always would to some extent. She had told him that having him was enough, but he couldn’t help but wonder if that wasn’t the truth. There was still always that lingering sadness in her eyes; a sadness that perhaps only he saw.

Without saying anything, he propped himself up on an elbow and then managed to sit up without much more than the usual amount of pain. Now sitting right up next to her, he wrapped his good arm around her waist and drew her even closer to him, lips finding hers a moment later. He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to tell her, because it was complicated and words had a way of failing him right when he thought they were just what he was looking for, but actions had a way of paring things down. And he knew this, he loved her, he wanted her to be happy and it this was now, not then. They could move on, together.

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

Cuddy had a barrier built around her failed attempt at motherhood. Breaching it with him now was harder than she liked to admit, but it wasn't catastrophic. No matter what she might have thought before she didn't fall apart. If anything she felt stronger for sharing. She certainly felt stronger in her relationship with him. There were no more lingering questions about whether or not he would have been a part of it with her. In the end it was just better that he wasn't. There was no need to have him part of her pain and failure.

She winced on his behalf when he moved again. There was no way she would be comfortable with him moving around until she heard that he was all clear from Dr. Shepard  Oh what a glorious day that would be.

He settled at her side and pulled her closer. She fit against his side easily and met his lips with eager kisses. There was comfort in his actions. Security in his presence. Somewhere in the back of her mind alarms went off telling her not to get too used to it. He could up and pull away at any point, but the part of her that had given him back her trust shut that off. He knew what would happen should he pull away again. She was completely his and that came with responsibility. So, she allowed herself to be covered in him like a security blanket.

They kissed with the same languid ease as they had earlier, but instead of mentioning Wilson this time she took his hand from her waist and guided it up to her breast. Her lips took on a smirk, "I told you to hold on to your thought." From nearly soul crushing memories to comfort to sex. It was just another night for the couple.

[gregory-house-md]

Cuddy didn’t seem all that thrown by the random bits of mostly extraneous personal history that he had just told her about himself, after all, none of it was entirely surprising, given how well she knew him at this point. But she did appear amused, and that lighted smile of hers alone was well worth the disclosure. The concluding bit about him taking a sick boy to a Flyers game however did give her a momentary pause, and he supposed it would. Of course he didn’t go on to tell her that he had taken the kid because he’d lost a bet with Wilson (who had originally been scheduled to play the role of ‘big brother’ that evening; this had obviously been one of those cases of Wilson attempting force his friend into the face of humanity). But House was well aware he could have just refused to do it, yet in the end, he couldn’t, and had drove the boy, Jeremy (House still remembered him in great detail) into Philly for an evening of hockey, hot dogs and haymakers. Jeremy told him afterwards it was one of the best times he’d ever had in his life. He died two months later.

The appreciative kiss Cuddy bent down to place upon his lips broke House out of the morose reflection he’d momentarily lapsed into with the surfacing of that memory. When she pulled away, his eyes reverently explored her face, delving into those slate blue depths as they did so easily, so often. He could see the approaching shift in her demeanor, however he could not predict the question she asked him next.

At that, he just looked up at her for some time, so long that the passing seconds began lapsing into an uncomfortable, heavy silence. She’d been upset when he’d asked her if she had wanted him as a donor a few months ago (to sate his need to know), and he had since accepted to leave the subject be. But here she was, bringing it up herself, wanting to know what his response would have been to that unsaid question. She continued to look down at him. waiting for his reply.

“No,” he answered at last, letting that blunt truth hang in the air before annotating, “at least not at first. I would have concluded what I already had by the time you had walked into my office that day, that I would be a poor choice, a present father figure or not. That it would only serve to complicate things between us in a way I wasn’t sure I would be able to handle. That you should choose somebody that you actually like. I would have told you no, right then and there, irregardless of knowing how difficult it had been to ask in the first place. I had that answer well prepared.”

His hand lifted to trail slowly along her forearm as he fell into a contemplative silence; eyes now averting hers. He obviously wasn’t done answering the question in full. “But then I would have started thinking too much about the fact that you had picked another man over me after you’d asked. And I would have come to an amended conclusion, that despite everything, I was the best choice you would find. A stack of files meant nothing, genes did, what I innately knew that we had together did. That the problem was that you did like me, but perhaps that wasn’t a problem at all……”

His touch now wandered down across her hand and over the curve of her hip. “I would have changed my mind, weeks, maybe months later. Perhaps too late. Perhaps you would have already moved on.” His gaze took an a far away look as he painted the scenario in his mind. “It probably would have happened in the heat of the moment, in the midst of a stand off over the ridiculous amount of required clinic hours in that cell block you run, or one of my ‘insane’ but irrefutably effective procedures. I would have told you, right then and there, spurned on by my need for you to know at last, no matter what the consequences were.”

He finally looked back up at her, the glinting guile in his eyes now lifting some amount of the pressing gravity from the moment while his hand slid over her thigh. “And if you were still game, I would have insisted that we skip the turkey baster method entirely and do it like a pair of hot blooded homo sapiens, as soon as possible.” That was of course, all a round about, long winded, House version of a ‘yes’.

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

Cuddy wasn't sure what answer she had been hoping for in this situation. No seemed a bit harsh. After all that talk about finding someone she liked. It was as if he was leading her on to asking him only to shoot her down.

Then he went on to give the reasons he would later change his mind. Having another man's baby. What they 'had'. It brought back the flood of her own internal debate when she thought of whether or not to ask him. None of it was pleasant. That had been such a hard time in her life. Hopes shattered. Pain of miscarriage. She remembered it all vividly, and finding a donor had only been the beginning of all of that pain.

A small smile fell across her lips when he turned those gorgeous blue eyes back on her and ran his hand over her thigh, "Well when you put it like that how would I have been able to say no?" Hot blooded homo sapians. Only House would put it that way.

The one hand in his hair stayed there, but her free hand started to trace the topography of his face with her middle and index fingers, "I debated asking you since the moment I decided it was something I wanted to do. You were always there in the back of my mind. Wilson would have done it, but he would have been too involved. I told myself I wanted a donor not a partner. In that I was sure you would have been perfect." Her eyes stayed on his face, but they were distant. Drudging of ghosts of pursuit of pregnancies past.

"Then you were giving me the shots telling me I shouldn't pick from the bank. Find someone I liked. It was like drawing a target on your own chest." Her hand wandered down to said chest drawing light circles there, "I debated it over and over in my mind. It would be better because you probably wouldn't want to be involved. Then again, what if you did? Would it be that bad? A genius dad that wouldn't be too soft, but would never truly hurt the kid. I know you hold back, and I've seen you with kids. You are so good with them. Maybe too blunt, but that isn't always a bad thing. And imagine how smart that kid could potentially be. And gorgeous. Hopefully with your eyes. I kept picturing this kid, usually a boy, in my head. So I went up to see you. Just looking at you brought back the reality that you could say no. I didn't know if I could take that answer."

She stilled her hand and brought her attention back fully to him, "And then when I miscarried, I knew I was right not to ask. I didn't want you to be a part of that pain. Because I know you would have cared even if you never would have said. And losing a part of the both of us?" She shook her head, "I couldn't have dealt with that." The corners of her mouth upturned once more and she added, "But trying could have been pretty fun. I think we know now that both of us really wanted to try it like the natural way." A joke.. mostly.

[simplymaterial]

[gregory-house-md]

It was decided then; 5x7’s of all four photos to drive Arlene Cuddy up a wall and hopefully down into a very steep ravine. And a copy of their entirely accurate ‘eye fucking’ shot in particular to go into Cuddy’s office, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop that. Besides, why would he want to? She had never once, since they had been ‘together’ together, acted ashamed of being with him. If she wanted to flaunt their unique brand of sexual chemistry for the entirety of her professional contacts to see, than he was all for it.

The move into her lap had been spontaneous, but not reckless. He saw the flash of surprise and concern in her eyes and quickly shifted into a somewhat less contorted position where he was. “It’s fine, really.” He assured her with a smirk. “Believe me, half the stuff I have to do in PT is far more dangerous than putting my head in your lap.” The rest of what could have been said there was communicated to her in the look he was giving her, which in a way was entirely more wicked.

Her concern passed, and his eyes fluttered partially shut as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. Jokes about not pulling out the remainder of what he had left on his head came to mind but never surfaced; he really just didn’t want her to stop. Then she asked him to tell her something she didn’t know, and his mouth was opening before she had even had finished the sentence. But she was quick to annotate the question, that it be something she didn’t know about him, and his mouth slowly clamped shut as he considered that in full. There were plenty of things she didn’t know about him, just as he was sure there were plenty of things he didn’t know about her; as well as they knew one another, they were still always learning, still discovering. Not all of his ‘unknowns’ were particularly interesting, for such an unusual, exceptional man, House had also lived through plenty of the typical and mundane. He didn’t think she was looking for anything in particular here however, just something new and interesting, so he merely began verbalizing a catalogue of memories that came to mind; which for him was a typical smorgasbord of seemingly random, eccentric bits of information; with the intent that something poignant might crop up along the way.

“Well,” he blinked up at the ceiling, “I had a pet turtle when was I kid. I found him fascinating, and named him Sly Stone. I rode my first motorcycle when I was twelve, and I was pretty much hooked from that moment on, even though my parents wouldn’t let me get one until I was eighteen. My first real girlfriend was black, I met her in prep school at Phillips Academy. She played the cello beautifully, and dumped me for a freshman named Elliot.” A dramatic scowl. “Major drag.” A few more thoughtful pauses. Cuddy already knew a great deal about his academic and professional history, so there were few curve balls to be found there, at least on the surface. “I cheated on two more tests at Johns Hopkins, that I didn’t get caught for.” A shrug. “I did it because I could, not because I had to. I suppose I was bored quite a bit, even there.” He glanced over from the ceiling to meet Cuddy’s downturned gaze. “I actually saw you before the bookstore, one time, crossing the commons. I turned to a buddy and told him I’d love to slam dunk that ass. It was very ungentlemanly of me.” A leer before settling back to ruminating a bit more earnestly and then almost blurting out. “I once took a kid who was dying of Leukemia to a Philadelphia Flyers game.”

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

Worry came as naturally as breathing to Lisa Cuddy. Soon(ish) she wouldn't have to worry about him just moving the wrong way, but then there would be something new to concern herself with. It was just what came with her caring about him. Frankly she was used to it. He, she was sure, probably never would be. He saw himself as a grown man who didn't need her to worry over him. She saw him as someone she cared about who she never wanted to get hurt.

Her small smile turned amused as he started to tell her things she didn't know. Picturing a young little House with 'sly stone' was just about the cutest thing ever. Of course he would be fascinated by a turtle. They barely did anything, but he probably wanted to know what went on in the shell when Sly would retreat. 

A motorcycle ride at twelve? She was surprised his mom didn't have a panic attack. She was sure if she had been in Blythe's place she would have. Even if it was with someone who had ridden for a long time. Who could blame her for making him wait till he was eighteen to get one? 

Hearing that his first girl played the Cello didn't surprise her in the least. Hearing that she dumped him for a freshman? Not really surprising either, but she pulled out a scowl for his sake (that she knew he would know was fake), "What a bitch." 

The cheating? Not surprising. House pushed his limits at work almost every damn day just because he could. It actually was a little odd to her that it had only been two other times. Obviously his need to push the envelope only got more urgent as he got older.

"Slam dunk that ass?" She laughed right out loud at that. Gregory House: sexually objectifying her for over twenty years. 

Her hand stilled in his hair when he mentioned the boy he had brought to a game. It took a moment to process the information, but then her smile grew and she started to run her hand through his hair again. He was without a doubt, a good man. Not in obvious ways. Not like everyone else, but he had a heart a lot bigger than he wanted to admit. He felt other people's pain. He could have never handled being an oncologist. People dying all of the time? He would have probably committed suicide by the time he was thirty.

It took a little contorting on how to bend without her breasts ending up in his face instead of her own face, but she managed bring her lips to his in a gentle kiss. A thank you for sharing. A thank you for being the man she knew and loved. 

When she pulled back they fell into a comfortable silence. Eyes searching eyes and as always, communicating affection in a way that they could not even begin to explain through words. It was simple. It was them.

"You asked me before if I was going to ask you to be my donor that day." She knew he knew what day she meant, "Would you have said yes?"

What a way to break the silence. 

[gregory-house-md]

Four pictures of them taken in quick succession, ranging from affectionate and tender, to intensely consumed, to silly and playful. Given the opportunity on the last one to smile, House flashed the camera a scruffy, goofy, open mouthed grin, bright blue eyes popped open wide, their color just about unanimously in matching hue with his snuggie. Four snapshots that, intentional or not, somehow managed to capture them perfectly as they were together.

And so it was, Greg House and Lisa Cuddy, two med students who had once met in a bookstore in Ann Arbor; a fateful, undeniable attraction that had led to a one night stand and a desire to see where that might lead left unfulfilled. Two successful doctors meeting again nearly fifteen years later, who became unlikely boss and employee; sometimes adversaries, often allies and inescapably friends. Two friends wading in years of pain, loneliness and undisclosed desires who became lovers. Lovers who now faced a future together, not without fears, but with more hope than either had ever anticipated. No matter what happened between them in the years to come, no matter the trails they faced, or how they aged, this moment would be frozen in time, just as they were right now.

They clicked through the short series of photos together, heads resting side by side over the camera’s viewscreen. Each of the four ‘options’ had its own charm, and after some moments of deliberation House, actually entirely devoid of sarcasm, concluded, “I think we should just buy one of those multi picture accordion frames and use them all,” Smirking over at her, he rested his chin down onto Cuddy’s shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer up next to him while he pressed another kiss to her temple. His hand strayed along her hip, tracing over smooth skin, before he all at once settled his head down onto her lap and looked adoringly up at her; a gesture that might seem percular, if this hadn’t been them.

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

Cuddy couldn't have asked for more from their little photo session. Each one special in its own way, though she had to say that she liked the one of them looking into each other's eyes the most. Documentation of what other people saw when they engaged in their intense stare downs. They looked like they were each internally plotting just how and when they would jump each other's bones. It was made even more perfect by the nearly identical smirks they wore. She tapped the display screen just barely with the tip of her nail, "This one in my office. It is the only one people wouldn't assume I photoshopped." It was so naturally them. The only side of their relationship that every else got to see. The sexual tension.

Her head bobbed in agreement to his suggestion of the frame that would fit them all, "5x7 of each. I like it." In her mind's eye she was already picking out the color of frame that would best go with their pictures. Sterling silver would be nice. It would look good between the candlesticks. 

Her mind was pulled back to the present by his attentions to her, but the warm feeling she got was suddenly snatched away when he made a quick movement of laying down with his head in her lap. This wouldn't be a big deal normally, but with his back it scared her. Her eyes grew wide with shock then she melted back into a lazy smile and eyes reflecting the adoration she found in his, "You are trying to scare me to death so you can have the house." Actually he wouldn't have any right to her things should she pass away. Not legally anyway. She made a mental not to discuss that with a lawyer. 

Her hand lifted up to stroke through his hair gently, "Tell me something I don't know." Before he could be a complete smart ass she shot him a warning look, "Something about you."

[ppth-rpg-ooc]

Mel: HAPPY BIRTHDAY KRISTY!!!  <3!!!!

[dr-lisa-cuddy-md]

Kristy: I JUST DIED XDDDD THANKS MEL!!!!! <333333