cuddys_house | September 5, evening

Current Mood: awkward

September 5, evening

House's day at work the following day had actually been quite productive. His team followed the patient as House had requested, which led to the discovery of where the guy actually lived. Which then led to the even bigger and more dramatic discovery that his home was host to a hydroponic hemp factory, one of the largest uncovered in the state. No wonder the guy had wanted to keep his actual home a secret.

These discoveries led to instant arrests, House's patient included in those arrests. House wasn't bothered by this because the uncovering of this basement hemp factory led to a quick diagnosis of what the guy actually had: strong allergies to marijuana extracts in the plants, caused by intense and prolonged exposure. While allergies had been ruled out in the past, this particular allergy had not been considered, seeing the patient had been very careful not to let on that he was dealing in weed of any sort, either as a dealer or a user.

Needless to say, House was satisfied. The drug bust was large enough that it made it to local news broadcast, though House wasn't particularly interested in any potential media circus that could stir. He was just pleased that he'd reached a diagnosis, if not a little annoyed with himself for not having observed his patient close enough for answers as simple as the one it resulted in.

Come late afternoon, however, all of that stuff was far from his mind. This date with Cuddy... He wasn't sure what to expect. He wasn't even sure what he'd been thinking in asking Cuddy out for dinner. But he made reservations at a classy enough restaurant across town at work, then rode his bike home and showered. He spent a good ten minutes staring into his wardrobe at the small collection of clothes he had.

Jeans, pants, shorts he hadn't worn since 1996, more jeans, t-shirts, a suit. Stupidly, he'd told Cuddy to dress for the occasion. Which meant he had to do the same thing. After agonising over how much he hated dressing up, he finally plucked the suit from the wardrobe and dressed in it. A black suit with a light blue shirt and a dark blue silk tie he'd had for years and had no memory of where he'd obtained said tie from. He dressed, fought with the tie, gave up on the tie and put on his shoes, then fought with his tie some more until it looked reasonable. He then spent another ten minutes caught between feeling anxious about the date and fighting with himself over how stupid he looked in the suit.

Around 7pm, he finally left his apartment, climbed into his car and started on his way towards Cuddy's place. Halfway there, he had a sudden attack of being old fashioned and pulled into a gas station and stared at the bunches of flowers lined on a rack by the main entrance. A voice argued with him in his head that he was being stupid, that he was going to look like an idiot, just turn around and go home. Another voice kept reminding him of the argument Cuddy and he had had and how strangely important he felt it to be to make an effort with her, even if it was just for tonight.

The second voice eventually won over. He got out of the car and stood in front of the flowers, agonising for another few minutes before finally purchasing a small bunch of red roses. Hell, it had been so long since he'd actually dated that he couldn't remember if giving flowers to a woman on a first date – and this technically was a first date – was a smart move or not. He continued to agonise over it the entire rest of the way to Cuddy's place, running their argument over in his mind, while thinking about other facets of this new relationship with her, while hating the tie he had around his neck at the same time. It went without saying that upon reaching Cuddy's place he spent another few moments debating with himself what the hell he was doing.

He almost gave into the impulse to throw the flowers into the trash on his way up the drive to Cuddy's front door. Instead, he stood at her door and did yet more fidgeting and agonising, then knocked on the door before he could chicken out.

This was so stupid. He felt like a stupid, awkward teenage boy all over again, no idea how to compose himself, what to say, how to stand, how to even hold the flowers in his hand. Why the hell did he wear a suit? Why the hell did he give into his stupid old fashioned ideas about dating and get these stupid flowers? He didn't have much time to think any strategies over, however; he heard the latch turn and he stood there motionless, awkwardly clutching the flowers by his side as the door opened.

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"At a convenient height, too," House agreed. He gave Cuddy's breast another squeeze. "Like the popular brands on the supermarket shelves: right there in front of you for your convenience. You can't miss 'em."

He gave her breast another squeeze, then let it go and ran his hand down her belly as Cuddy began mapping his body out with her own hand. He squirmed a little when her fingers brushed over the sensitive parts of his chest - down the side of his ribs was particularly ticklish. He closed his eyes as her hand kneaded at his arms and shoulders, and pressed a light kiss to her lips. He then kissed the tip of her nose just as she pulled back to speak.

"You mean you don't know?" House asked, feigning incredulity. "Let me give you a little hint: he's fun, he brings you pleasure and he's always up to no good." He reached for her hand and pressed it against his chest, making it seem like he was about to push her hand south to his groin. Which definitely was a place Cuddy was always welcome to warm her hands.

He didn't push her hand down, though; he just kept it pressed to his chest. "His name's Greg, by the way, in case you needed another hint." He then did begin sliding her hand downwards. He was only mildly hard but wasn't really feeling aroused. His mild erection was merely from the way Cuddy affected him, a physical reaction to the feelings he had for her. "If you thought I was referring to something else, you have a dirty mind."

"Of course I have a dirty mind. Not as dirty as yours but then, whose is?"

She considered pointing out that, in the flaccid state, there wouldn't necessarily be enough of 'little' Greg to get two full handfuls. She refrained, though. House was not deficient in any way but but most men were incredibly sensitive about size. Jokes about the subject did not tend to go over well.

Cuddy slid her hand all the way down and stroked her fingertips lightly along his penis. Not to arouse him but a continuation of her exploration of his body. Everything was different when she was caught up in desire. She didn't necessarily stop to notice the details. Oddly, it seemed more intimate to touch him just to be touching him and not for sex.

She moved her hand further and cupped his balls in her palm, feeling the weight of them, before she slid her hand back up to his belly.

"I like the idea of getting to use all of you as a handwarmer," she murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Kind of like giving me an all-access pass to Gregland."

House closed his eyes as Cuddy fondled him. Being touched there just as act of intimacy and not sex was such a different sensation. Cuddy's gentleness and thoughtfulness in how she explored his body made him feel... well, good. Loved. It took a lot for House to trust someone with his body in this manner, to allow them to be gentle and loving and tender towards him. He reached down and touched the back of her hand as she fondled his balls, then ran his fingertips up her arm until she moved her hand elsewhere on his body.

His eyes were still closed when she kissed the corner of his mouth. This thing happening between Cuddy and himself was ridiculously sappy in its own way, but House was reveling in it at the same time. Being like this with Cuddy, huddled with her in bed the dark, under the blankets, touching and kissing her like she was the only person who existed in the entire world, being treated in much the same way... It was hard for him not to feel madly in love with her right now.

"Gregland," he echoed in a murmur. "That sounds like a fun place to spend your day." He kissed the corner of her mouth. He then leered, "The place where you can have the ride of your life." He kissed her again, right on the lips this time, his hand moving idly over her skin in various places. "Which means of course that the owner of Gregland gets to go to Cuddy's Canyon whenever he pleases. Free of charge. Maybe take a ride down to the Valley Between The Thighs."

He grinned against her mouth, though fell silent in favour of giving a few more kisses to her lips until they were kissing deeply and slowly again. He sucked softly at her lips and her tongue, pulling her leg over his hip so he could shift body against body with her. When the kiss finally came to an end, House dropped his face in against the side of Cuddy's neck and nuzzled it.

"So, is this what they call 'beauty sleep' these day?" he mumbled against her throat. "Weird. I seem to recall actual sleep being a part of it the last time I gave it a shot."

Cuddy laughed. The ride of her life, indeed. Far more fun and satisfying...and frightening than the slide of terror at the amusement center. After all, the worst that could've happened on the slide was a broken bone. Landing wrong with this relationship would break her heart. All the great sex in the world wouldn't keep them together, but moments like this when they were simply together, touching and talking, made her feel like it wasn't just possible. She felt like this thing between them could actually work.

"Hey, I was trying to sleep. You wouldn't let me." Her complaint was a little weak because she hadn't exactly tried to enforce her demand for rest. She was tired, and she knew she had a busy day to get through tomorrow, but she was enjoying this quiet time between them too much to want it to end.

"I do need to get to sleep, though," she said reluctantly. She rolled to her back, stretching a little, and urged him to settle up against her side. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and lifted her hand to his head, playing idly with his hair. "So be a good boy and hold your questions and complaints until tomorrow...if not longer."

"You could've rolled over and ignored me if you wanted to," House argued mildly. Except if she'd done that he would've been more annoying than he already had been, probably pinching her butt more or tickling that spot on the back of her neck that causes goose pimples to rise reflexively.

As she pulled away and conceded that she did need to sleep, House slid his hand up to her belly while she stretched out onto her back. He gave it a firm, broad rub, allowing himself to be tugged in towards her when she wrapped her arm around him. He shifted up snug to her side and rested his chin on her shoulder as she played with his hair.

"What's happening tomorrow that's so big, anyway?" House asked, ignoring her command that he hold off any questions until later. "Can't be any more important than me. Nobody's more important than me."

Cuddy sighed when he kept probing. Kept demanding her attention.

"I realize that you are the focal point of the universe. However, the rest of the universe doesn't see it that way," she said dryly.

Honestly, as much as she tended to think of House as demanding and even arrogant, she had to wonder if his attitude wasn't more the result of insecurity. Maybe he demanded attention because he needed reassurance that he mattered. It was very odd for her to think of him that way because she was so used to the way he acted as though he didn't need anyone's approval.

"I have to give my yearly welcome address to the new first year med students. I have committee meetings. I have a meeting with a couple who are considering donating half a million dollars to our neonatal intensive care unit...." She frowned slightly. Since when did he actually care what she was doing? Well, except for when what she was doing took her attention away from him.

She let her hand slide down from his head to his shoulder and yawned. "Basically I'll be doing what I usually do, just more of it than I normally have to do in one day."

"That's because the rest of the universe hasn't realised that yet," House joked arrogantly.

It was true that House demanded to be in the centre of attention. Well, not to the people that didn't matter to him; he couldn't really care less about those sorts of people. But the people who did matter to him - his team, but Cuddy and Wilson specifically - he wanted the attention of all the time. Even when he didn't really need their attention, he still wanted it. He knew they were the only few people on the planet that he mattered to beyond being a doctor.

He listened to her list of things she had to do the next day with vague interest, thinking to himself how glad he was to have minimal responsibilities beyond running his department. "Meetings," he echoed, sounding the word out like it was a foul taste in his mouth. "Oh, what fun. How do you not slip into a boredom-induced coma?"

He rolled a little away from her when she slid her hand to his shoulder, and he stretched out. He then yawned, too, even though he wasn't really all that tired; Cuddy yawning was contagious. He shifted fully onto his back and propped his hands under his head, peering up at the ceiling.

"Wonder how many reporters there'll be there tomorrow for you to ham it up with," he said after a pause. "That'll be something else to keep you busy if your meetings fail to deliver on the excitement factor. Which they'll be guaranteed to do. Pompous doctors discussing pompous medicine with their pompous sense of self-importance.

"Welcoming new med students, on the other hand..." He turned his head to look across at Cuddy. "I hear adrenalin rushes caused by abstract terror makes fresh, new meat tastier."

Of course meetings weren't exciting. They were, however, necessary. She couldn't do her job without meetings so she did them. One of the things that made her good at her job was that she'd learned how to manage those meetings to get the most bang for her buck.

She gave a low groan when House reminded her about the reporters. Wishful thinking perhaps, but she'd forgotten about them. If the case had involved any other doctor she would've made him or her handle the press. Because it was House, she'd have to take care of it herself or risk a huge PR mess.

"I wouldn't know. I don't terrorize med students." Not until she got to know them, anyway. Not unless she knew they deserved it. Even then, the easiest way to terrorize a student was to assign them to House.

Her body was feeling very heavy and lethargic now, and she yawned again. "If you want to check out the fresh meat, you're welcome to sit in on the welcome. Just keep your mouth shut."

"Why would I do that?" House asked. "They're not any use to me."

House sure as hell had little patience for med students, particularly the ones who thought they knew it all. Which was most of them. He'd had one experience of being in a hall full of med students and that was that time Cuddy had made him take over that lecture for the day. That lecture which had turned out to be much more of a personal reveal of accounts about his infarction than he'd really intended it to be. He blamed that on the fact that he'd seen Stacy for the first time in years, just before the lecture began. Seeing her had brought back a lot of painful memories.

He sighed, dismissing all of that from his mind. He turned his eyes back up to the ceiling. Well, maybe he would pay the new batch of fresh meat tomorrow a little visit if he had nothing else to do. Any distraction was a good distraction if it meant he didn't have to think about the shooting or any of those unsettling feelings that came with that.

Which brought House's attention back to what he was going to do tonight in order to get as peaceful a sleep as possible. He glanced across at Cuddy again. Maybe he'd wait until she was asleep, then go and find something. If she asked what he was doing up, he'd just tell her he was going to the bathroom or getting a drink of water.

Shifting back onto his side, he moved up against Cuddy and sprawled half his body comfortably over her. Not snuggling, of course; invading her personal space. "Tired," he muttered, settling his face in against the crook of her neck.

"Fine. Whatever. Just don't get in my way," Cuddy murmured. She didn't want to think about tomorrow. She didn't want to think of what House's boredom might drive him to do, now that he was without a patient. Mostly she didn't want to think at all. She wanted to give in to the oblivion of sleep.

"Okay," she agreed when he said he was tired. She wasn't making sense anymore. The logic centers of her brain had gone off-line. She was just awake enough to realize she was losing coherency and needed to shut up before she said something really weird. Or agreed to something she'd regret agreeing to.

She turned her head toward House as he snuggled up against her but she didn't open her eyes. "Good night."

House grunted in reply to her wishing him good night. He closed his eyes and shifted about to get more comfortable, then lay still and quiet, listening to Cuddy quickly sinking into sleep. Her deep, slow breaths were a bit like counting sleep, lulling him into a mild doze.

After a short while, when he was positive Cuddy was sound asleep, he carefully extracted himself from her arms and rolled to the other side of the bed. He quietly stood up, gathering his cane, and just as quietly made his way across the room. He grimaced each time his feet made a sound on the floor or each time he though he heard Cuddy stirring awake.

He wasn't sure where she usually put her medical bag, though. That was something he should have checked out earlier, while she was in the bathroom. He stood in the middle of the room and tried to see through the dark at the different places her bag could be. His eyes landed on the wardrobe. He figured that would be the best place to look.

He was so wary of making too much sound, though, and he winced as he opened the door, trying his hardest to stay perfectly quiet. It was pitch black in the wardrobe, so he couldn't see where he was feeling as he patted his hand around for the bag. Clothes, clothes, more clothes, a plastic bag-- He stopped dead as the plastic bag rustled and snapped his attention over to Cuddy to make sure she hadn't woken at that sound.

God damn it. He gave up after another minute or so of feeling around for the bag. It was just too noisy to go on a hunt for it while Cuddy was in the room. Closing the door as quietly as he could, he decided his next best bet was to raid her kitchen to see if she had any liquor besides beer. He quietly left her room.

Flipping the light on when he reached her kitchen, he squinted and blinked violently at the sudden brightness, and scoffed at the time on the microwave - barely just past eleven. Way too early for him. One he got used to the light, he began going through her cupboards. Finally, he discovered a bottle of scotch buried towards the back of the pantry. He pulled it out and limped across to the sink to fetch himself a glass.

He knew, as he poured himself a generous drink, that he should feel guilty about sneaking around her house like this to look for means of self-medication to help him sleep. He knew, too, that if she found out about it she would get on his case big time. But she wouldn't find out, he decided firmly to himself as he sculled back the scotch in a few gulps.

He let out a gasp when he pulled the glass from his mouth, and wheezed. The first shot was always the worst. But after the burn subsided, he poured himself another liberal shot and downed that one, too, though not as fast. The bottle was a good deal more than half empty by the time he returned it to the pantry. He made a stop to the bathroom along the way to give his teeth another scrub, if only to prevent that horrible furry feeling alcohol left in your mouth in the morning. And to kill the scent of the alcohol.

By the time he returned to Cuddy's room, he was already starting to mildly feel the effects of the drink. He set his cane aside and got into bed, letting out a deep sigh as he lay back. With any luck, the alcohol would kill deaden his mind enough to keep his nightmares at least to a manageable level. He made a mental note to check out where her medical bag was for next time, if he ever needed to find it.

He rolled over and after a while of lying there and watching Cuddy sleep, he finally drifted off to sleep, too.

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September 5, evening

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