cuddys_house | Tuesday, October 3rd, 2006

Tuesday, October 3rd, 2006

Almost two weeks had passed since House's last encounter with Cuddy in the elevator. He'd crossed paths with her a few times since, but only under accidental or absolutely necessary circumstances, and barely two words were exchanged each time, nor was there any substantial eye contact.

It wasn't that House didn't intend on talking to Cuddy... he just couldn't seem to muster the courage, and each time he almost found enough courage he'd then find himself doubting and questioning things over and over. He took to drinking heavier when he was at home, to dull his thoughts. Not just his thoughts, but his anxiety and stress, too. His leg was aching; a persistent ache that wasn't strong enough to be painful, but was noticeable enough to be worrisome. And his nightmares... Well, he was getting so weary of running on less than three or four hours' sleep a night. Insomnia wasn't anything new to him, but everything that had happened lately was taking a much greater toll on his aging body. He felt pretty much like a mess.

The worst of it was no matter how much he tried to ignore the whole situation, it still lurked in the back of his mind. Cuddy wasn't just pregnant, House had cost himself a relationship that meant way more to him than he originally thought. Now that he and Cuddy were no longer together, he truly realised how much he'd lost and how much it hurt that he'd lost it. And so he kept wallowing in self-pity and broodiness, feeling sorry for himself to the point where he had no energy or even motivation to get his ass up from the couch when he was at him, except to go to the toilet, get food (which he had very little of) or go to bed.

Part of him hoped Cuddy would try again to talk to him so he didn't have to do the hard bit himself. But every time he thought about Cuddy approaching him, something instinctively wanted to flee and find shelter. The way Cuddy had confronted him in the elevator had filled him with even greater remorse for saying that their relationship was a mistake. He wasn't sure he could handle any further remorse if Cuddy confronted him again.

It was just past ten o'clock at night, the first Tuesday night in October, that House finally decided he needed to do something. He couldn't handle the way this was all eating away at him anymore. He couldn't handle not knowing the answer to whether he and Cuddy were worth trying to work things out. Most of all, he couldn't handle not being with Cuddy anymore. He stood up from the couch in the middle of a rerun of Home Improvement that he was blanking out in front of, switched the TV off and headed for the closet. It was getting cooler outside at nights now; he rugged himself up in his thick overcoat, grabbed up his keys and cane and headed out the door.

He arrived outside Cuddy's place a little after 10.30, pulling his car up to the curb across the street from her house. He sat and stared at it for a good five or ten minutes. Seemed Cuddy had gone to bed because he couldn't see any lights on. But he knew she was home because her car was in the drive. He finally climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut, and after locking the door he headed across the street and slowly up the garden path.

He hit another bout of uncertainty once he was the door, all sorts of worst-case scenarios running through his head as he contemplated what might happen if he knocked and if Cuddy answered the door. He threw a couple of longing looks back to his car and almost gave into just getting back into it and driving home because that seemed way easier than facing this. But at last, he finally mustered the courage to knock on her door.

Then he waited.

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Cuddy shifted restlessly in bed. A few weeks into her pregnancy now she was still getting used to some of the side effects. The 'morning' sickness turned out to be a 24/7 deal in reality but at least it tended to stay at a very low level of nausea. The only time it got bad was when she encountered certain smells. Coffee, of course, and popcorn for some reason, a few others as well. As long as she avoided the culprit aromas she managed fairly well. She thought she was managing fairly well anyway; no one seemed to have picked up on it at work. Brenda was still giving her those questioning looks but Cuddy didn't know if that was because Brenda had picked up on her aversion to coffee, or if she'd picked up on Cuddy's recent emotional state.

Worse than the morning sickness was the fatigue. She hated being tired. She hated feeling like she didn't have the energy to do the things she needed and wanted to do. Cuddy was a go-getter, active, energetic. She used to be able to go sixteen hours a day and look good doing it. Now all of a sudden her ass was dragging by the middle of the afternoon. It was a surprisingly difficult adjustment for her to slow down but she was doing her best. She didn't want to start off motherhood by ignoring what was best for her baby so she tried to listen to what her body needed. Most nights that meant she was in bed by ten. Some nights she was in bed before ten. She hadn't gone to bed that early in years, not unless she was sick.

The problem was that although her body needed to rest, her mind often couldn't. She'd toss and turn, worrying over House and their relationship and whether they could even still have a relationship. She'd taken Wilson's advice and not pressed House for a chance to talk. She'd kept her interactions with him to the bare minimum, and it had been damned hard. Half the time she was sure it really was all over and he'd never speak to her again and sometimes that possibility hit her so hard she could barely breathe through the ache in her chest. Other times, when she was feeling a little less overwhelmed, she'd think that maybe, possibly, House would change his mind. She didn't which would be worse--having her worst fears confirmed or getting her hopes up and then having her worst fears confirmed.

Cuddy rubbed at her eyes and began to turn onto her side when she heard a noise. She sat up in bed, frowning. It had sounded like someone at the front door but most people wouldn't bother her at home at this time of night. Well, House would but he hadn't exactly been in a 'dropping by' mood lately. Maybe it was just a pizza delivery boy who'd gotten lost. Whoever it was, she wouldn't be able to settle back down until she'd checked it out. She swung her legs out of the bed and grabbed her robe, pulling it on as she headed down the hall. The only light she turned on was the light in the entrance hall. She figured she'd be going right back to bed and there was no sense in lighting up the whole house.

She double-checked that the sash of her robe was tied as she turned the deadbolt. She pulled the door open just far enough to peek out, and she froze. The sight of House on her doorstep made both hope and despair flood through her system and she couldn't speak for a moment. Then she pulled the door open wider and asked somewhat hesitantly, "Do you want to come in?"

As footsteps approached, House almost wanted to turn and run - or limp very fast - down the path to his car and escape before Cuddy answered it. His heart sped up a little and by the time the latch was turning, he felt positively, well, terrified. He steeled himself, however - but only just.

He couldn't really explain the feelings that raced through him the moment he saw Cuddy. Nerves and fear, definitely. But a kind of... ache rushed through him, too. An ache in his chest that was equal parts remorse and longing. He couldn't quite meet her eyes as she opened the door wider to him.

He did a quick mental check. Why exactly was he here? What did he hope to achieve? What if he came away from Cuddy's place in a worse state than he was already in? Again, he found himself almost chickening out. So much so that he couldn't even think of a response when Cuddy asked if he wanted to come in. He just nodded after a moment's hesitation and stepped across the threshold into her house.

He stood away from Cuddy as she closed the door. He felt like a stranger in her house, which was the complete opposite to how her place was beginning to become to him a couple of weeks back. He turned his head away from Cuddy and studied the surroundings like he was just seeing them for the first time, mainly to stall time from having to look at her. But eventually he faced back to her and, damn it, he wished that ache in his chest would go away.

"We need to talk," he said, so quietly it was almost a mutter. He didn't know what to say after that, so he just averted his eyes again, looking anywhere but right at Cuddy.

Cuddy stood with her back to the door, watching warily as House looked around. She was half hopeful, half afraid of his reason for being there. And half afraid of being hopeful. She wanted to simply throw her arms around him and have him hold her and be able believe that everything would somehow work out. She'd given up fairy tales a long time ago, though.

"Yes, we do," she said quietly. She turned the lock on the door, then walked past him into the living room. She turned on one lamp, almost wishing she could leave the room in darkness so she'd have some way to hide. But if darkness gave her a place to hide it would also give him a way to hide and if they were going to deal with this, they needed to do it openly.

She settled on one end of the couch and waited for House to sit, or pace, or whatever he was comfortable doing. The floor was chilly on her bare feet so she tucked them under her. She realized she was doing that huddling up thing again, making herself small, but her excuse was she was chilled. And afraid. She was afraid that talking would only lead to another argument and even though they needed to talk, even though she wanted to talk, she feared what talking might lead to.

"So," she said, apprehensive. "Where do you want to start?"

House reluctantly followed Cuddy, stopping in the doorway and as she turned on the lamp, he got a flashback of the fight they'd had. Of Cuddy slapping him and him standing right where he was right now, telling Cuddy their relationship was a mistake. He tried to shove the memory aside and limped into the room once she'd taken her seat.

He didn't take a seat, though. He started to pace, strolling towards the fireplace and peering at the photos she had mounted on it, then glanced over his shoulder at her when she asked where he wanted to start.

He wished he knew. There were so many things he wanted to say, yet didn't want to say, needed to say but felt too afraid to say. He still had no idea how to approach the issue with her being pregnant. He gave his face a fretful rub as everything that was going through his head threatened to start overwhelming him.

Drawing in a deep breath to try and calm himself, he dropped his arm back to his side and faced around to Cuddy. He just stared down and away at nothing in particular as he attempted to gather his thoughts. At last, he lifted his eyes to her.

"You're right," he admitted quietly. "We weren't a mistake."

Cuddy let her head drop forward and pressed her hand to her face. Hearing him say those words her eyes filled with tears. Damn these hormones. She knew she couldn't blame hormones for all the tears she'd shed, or nearly shed, over the last couple of weeks. She would've been a mess even without the hormones, but since she had the pregnancy as an excuse, she was going to use it.

She clung to the sense of relief his words brought even though she knew it didn't necessarily mean he wanted to continue the relationship. Just because he thought they hadn't been a mistake didn't mean he wanted to move forward. He might think that was a mistake. Still, she felt better to know that he wasn't throwing away everything that they'd meant to each other.

She blinked hard a few times and managed to clear away the tears before they could fall. Then she lifted her head and braved looking at House. "Thank you for saying that." And since he'd made an apology, of sorts, she needed to clear her conscience before they went any further.

"There's something I need to say first, before...." She gave a vague shrug, meaning before they discussed all the other things they needed to discuss. "I'm sorry for hitting you. I never meant to hurt you in any way, but that was inexcusable."

House looked away awkwardly as Cuddy dropped her face into her hand. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if she started crying. He was uncomfortable enough just standing here as it was, let along having to deal with Cuddy crying. So, he was relieved to see Cuddy wasn't crying when she looked back up to him. He could see she was visibly emotional, but at least she wasn't crying.

He just shrugged at her thanks. He wasn't sure what else he was supposed to do or say. 'Your welcome' didn't really sound right and anything else could come out sarcastic, and he wanted to avoid a fight. He shifted on the spot when Cuddy then began to apologise for hitting him.

He still felt a bit stung by that. He felt hurt at the way Cuddy had said she'd loved him and hit him in the same breath. He was especially still hurt that she insinuated he would do the same to her when he never would. "Sure," he replied, looking down.

He supposed Cuddy wanted to hear that she was forgiven and maybe a thank you. He wasn't so comfortable with exchanging apologies and forgiveness, though. So, he didn't offer anything more. He did forgive her, though, despite that he was still hurt by it. He had to forgive her if he wanted to try and make amends.

"I wish things didn't have to end that way," he said after an awkward silence. "You know..." He gestured between Cuddy and himself as if to silently explain each other's actions during that fight. "I don't..."

He sighed quietly and looked away, then after another pause he slowly headed for the coffee table. He pushed aside a couple of magazines and sat down. He could sit on the chair near Cuddy but that seemed to far away. And he could sit on the couch with her, but that seemed too close. The coffee table was the best compromise.

Holding his cane between his legs, he stared down at the floor. "I don't..." he began again, trying to work out how to phrase what he wanted to say. More to the point, trying to find the courage to work past his fear to say it. "I..."

He drew in another breath and let it out slowly. "These past couple of weeks have given me a chance to think about things," he finally began again. "About... us." He looked up at Cuddy. "I didn't like how... empty these past couple of weeks have been. Without, you know. You." He swallowed, trying to swallow back his fear. "I missed you."

Cuddy nodded in understanding when House said he wished things hadn't happened the way they had. Fear and anger had taken over and reason had gone right out the window. Even their competitive natures had come into play in a very negative way. It was as if they been competiting to see who could hurt the other worse. It certainly wasn't something she was proud of. She certainly wasn't proud of having slapped him. She could live with the fact that he hadn't specifically forgiven her, though. The most important thing was that he knew that she knew it was wrong and she was sorry.

She watched as he settled himself on the coffee table and she made herself wait to hear whatever it was he wanted to say. She was still frightened that he intended for the relationship to be over but she was determined to try to work it out with him. She was determined to have her say but she intended to let him have his say as well. As frustrating as it was, she knew the only hope of continuing the relationship was to allow him the time to accept it on his own.

"It's been very quiet," she agreed softly. She didn't want the kind of noise she'd heard that Monday night, but she'd missed the normal sounds of House being in her life. Even though they weren't living together, she'd gotten used him being a regular part of her life.

"I wanted to talk to you so badly but...." She'd almost told him that Wilson had advised her to wait but she wasn't sure House knew that Wilson had talked to her. It seemed like the kind of thing they'd talk about, especially since Wilson didn't know House was the man in question. But sometimes they surprised her. House had never told about her fertility treatments; maybe Wilson hadn't said anything about their discussion.

"I wanted to talk but I thought I should wait until you were ready. It was hard for me to wait but not as hard as thinking it was over." She gazed at House, her fear quite plain in her expression. "Does it have to be over? Can we find some way to make it not so...empty?"

House gazed right back at Cuddy, at the fearful expression on her face, then he looked down. He hadn't just been thinking about wanting to get back with Cuddy. He'd been trying to sort through other things, too, like the fact that she was pregnant. He couldn't ignore that forever, even if he did get back with her.

"Maybe," he replied. "But..." He paused, frowning down at the floor; the next thing he wanted to say was hard.

One of the things that he'd gotten very miserable about over the last couple of weeks was how he saw himself. He'd fallen into a trap of missing Cuddy like crazy but wondering if he could ever be good enough for her because, well, he didn't exactly like himself. He felt like he was facing demons from all angles, not just his self-esteem but everything else he'd been struggling with the past few months. Bringing a child into the situation changed things pretty dramatically for House because he honestly was convinced he would not make a good father, which could therefore mean he ultimately may not make a good partner for Cuddy.

"Part of me wants to be with you, maybe for a very long time, if one of us doesn't screw it up drastically," he continued. "But it's not just about us anymore. There are other factors now. Big ones. And I'm not sure I can be what you need."

Cuddy held her breath when House ended on "but." She'd heard a lot of buts from men over the years: I love you but, you're great but.... There was always a but, wasn't there? She didn't want to hear any more buts, especially not from House.

She relaxed slightly when he continued. He was right, of course, there were significant other factors involved but there was only one new one. Granted, the baby was big factor, an intimidatingly big one, but they had a lot of other issues and those hadn't stopped them from trying a relationship. She didn't think those issues should scare him off now.

"I don't know either, but I want the chance to find out." She didn't know which of his demons was scaring him off or if it was simply the idea of a baby that too scary for him to contemplate. She did know he wasn't a typical man and he wasn't going to be a typical partner or father. Maybe she was being naively optimistic but that was part of his attraction. Dealing things like his PTSD worried her but if it was a choice of either dealing with his issues or not being with him, she'd choose the former.

"Don't you think I worry about the same things? I can run a hospital but I've never managed to have a successful relationship. And a baby--I'm scared to death I'm going to screw this kid up."

She'd wanted a child for a long time but that desire didn't make her immune to worry. She knew she could provide for the child's physical needs but emotional needs--that was a different ball of wax. That was the really scary stuff. She'd boldly gone into fertility treatments convinced she could handle a child by herself. Maybe that was the only way to approach parenthood, otherwise she'd be too scared to even try. Now that the baby was real, though, she wanted to share the experience with House. If nothing else, she knew she could count on him to tell her when she was getting it wrong.

"I want to be with you. I certainly don't want to give up without even trying. It's too important." She held her hand out toward him. "Please don't give up now. It's possible you're exactly what I need."

Cuddy worried about screwing this kid up? Well, yeah, of course she did. What parent didn't? He looked down at her offered hand, feeling himself becoming torn again, between wanting the same as Cuddy in terms of being together and being too scared to make that step to agree to that.

"The difference between you screwing it up and me screwing it up," he said, ignoring everything else she said for the moment, "is you want kids." He sighed. "It's not just about what I can or can't give you. It's about this... baby thing, too. I don't think I could give it what it needs."

He was positive about that, too. He was positive he wouldn't be able to give it the love it needed or supply it with its emotional needs. He wasn't good at that kind of thing. He wasn't good at supplying emotional needs, for anybody.

Despite himself, though, he hesitantly took Cuddy's hand. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, then squeezed her fingers before just holding it loosely in his hand. He then swivelled a little on the coffee table so he was facing her more directly. He studied her face, probably looking as scared and uncertain as he felt. He really didn't know what the right answer was here. Each choice he could make came with its own repercussions and difficulties he wasn't sure how to deal with.

"I wouldn't be here if I was giving up," he finally said.

"I wouldn't even think of asking you to be part of this baby's life, of my life, if I didn't think you had something to offer."

Cuddy shifted on the couch, sliding her feet from under her and setting them on the floor so she could sit closer to the edge, closer to House. She reached out with her other hand, clasping his hand between hers.

She was just one step shy of blatantly begging him to stay. Begging him to try. She hated that feeling. She didn't see herself as someone who begged. She saw herself as someone who made the rules and expected others to fall in line. She wanted to see herself as someone who was confident, independent. She knew that wasn't the whole story but it's the way she wanted to see herself. Still, if she let pride get in her way, she didn't deserve a second chance with House.

She bit her lip and nodded, relieved when he said he wasn't giving up. "You know--I do understand how you feel. I know this isn't what you wanted." She squeezed his hand briefly. "I do want you to be part of my life but I'm not asking you to make a decision right now. I'm asking you to take time to think about it. I'm asking for time for us to talk, and maybe to figure a way we can make this work."

It probably said a lot about him, that he didn't think he had much to offer. He certainly didn't have to offer what most people wanted. He still struggled with the fact that Cuddy loved him because of that, and not just because the last time they were properly in each other's company was when she struck him across the face in between telling him she loved him.

He dropped his eyes again to her hands holding his. No, this wasn't what he wanted, at all, and he doubted Cuddy really understood how he felt. Maybe this wasn't what she wanted either, but that didn't diminish her desire to have a child. He, on the other hand, had no desire whatsoever.

But he remembered what Wilson had said to him, too. Did he walk away from Cuddy because he couldn't deal with this, or did he take a chance?

"That's why I'm here," he said, somewhat tentatively. "I don't like the thought of life without you in it. Just don't know where to go from here. Everything's changed."

"I don't know either."

She knew where she wanted it to go. She wanted what she'd always wanted: a man she admired and respected and loved. A child she could raise the way she'd been raised--with love and hope and the occasional tears. She wanted the life many women wanted...but she wanted to have it with House and that changed everything.

On the surface at least he wasn't looking for the same things she wanted. His respect was grudgingly won and he resisted the idea of love when he wasn't completely denying its existence. She understood some of the reasons for the way he was, but she didn't know the whole story. Still, even with what she did know, she didn't believe the relationship she was looking for was impossible. She didn't need the traditional trappings of a relationship. She didn't need House to be someone he wasn't. What she needed was for him to be willing to share who he was.

"Maybe we need to go back to the basics. There are a lot of things we've never really talked about." She'd been looking at their joined hands, rubbing her thumb lightly over his knuckles, but she looked up at him then. "Why do you hate the idea of being a father? I mean, is it because of your relationship with your dad or do you just hate it on general principle?"

House gave Cuddy a pained look. There was only so much he could handle, emotionally, in a single sitting. Coming to Cuddy's place, finding the courage to talk to her, agreeing to work something out even though he was afraid and had no idea where to start - that was more than enough, let alone now going into the reasons why he didn't want to be a father.

But... he reminded himself, before he retorted something sharp back at Cuddy, that if he didn't want this to dissolve into a fight, he needed to talk. He just wished talking was easier than this. Or wished there was a way to talk without it being so uncomfortable. Or wished he could just avoid talking about this stuff at all and have everything work out for itself.

He extracted his hand from Cuddy's, though stayed sitting where he was. "I'm not opposed to the general principle," he replied. "Human beings are designed to reproduce. It's the mistakes people make and the stupid things people do that make me question it."

That wasn't even skimming the surface of why he had issues with it. Besides, 'people' wasn't him. He was just kind of deflecting Cuddy's question. He sighed and looked away for a moment before gingerly turning his gaze back to Cuddy.

"I've never wanted to risk falling into the trap of making the same choices my dad made with me," he admitted quietly. "I don't want to be responsible for screwing up a life that doesn't deserve to be screwed up. I know no parent ever gets it completely right, but I also know some people have a higher chance of getting it wrong in a damaging way. You can't reverse damage."

Cuddy didn't resist when House pulled his hand away but his reaction frustrated her. They'd never make the relationship work if they didn't talk about some of this stuff. And unfortunately, the most important stuff was often also the most uncomfortable to talk about. The way he talked about generalities didn't help either. She knew what he thought of most people; she wanted to know what he thought about himself.

She shifted back slightly, rubbing her feet together because they'd gotten chilled. Actually she was slightly chilled all over. She'd only grabbed a light robe when she got up to answer the door. She hadn't expected to engage in a life-changing discussion. She wasn't going to complain about it, though. She very much wanted this discussion. Even if they only took the first small steps this time, she wanted it.

"At the risk of stating the obvious--you are not your father. You're not even close." It made sense to her that House, feeling so wronged by his own father, would worry about being able to do right by his own child. Surely the fact he was aware of the possibility would make him more likely to avoid it. It was unfair to expect him to dismiss the concern, though, because she worried about herself and she didn't have the troubled family history he did. She thought she could raise a child right but she didn't know it for a fact. She supposed any responsible person who had even the slightest clue of how fragile children could be would worry about it.

"You realize that if you decide you don't want to be part of this child's life, you're essentially trusting me to not screw the kid up." She gave him a small, slightly uneasy smile because she wasn't completely sure that anyone should trust her to get it right. She'd do her best but, as House had quite often pointed out, her best wasn't always all that good.

"Are you sure you really trust me that much?"

"I never said I was," House replied, defensive at the notion that he would even think that. He was well aware of what he didn't want to be like and he did everything in his control to avoid being anything like his father. But he was also well aware of some of the emotional damage growing up with his father had imprinted in him and he'd never wanted to risk repeating any of that on a child.

He got a sudden weird feeling at what Cuddy said next. He couldn't explain it even if he wanted to but it struck him unexpectedly. Fear or dread or maybe even a strange kind of awe at the thought that it was his child Cuddy was carrying. His child. He rubbed his chin and in a burst of nervousness, he decided he needed to do something besides sitting where he was.

He stood and stepped away from the coffee table without his cane to limp across the room while still rubbing his chin. He pinched his lower lip between his fingers, ran his hand through his hair and then began to shrug out of his overcoat because it was heavy and he felt a bit hot from how anxious he was. Underneath his coat, he was dressed in just a wrinkled white t-shirt and his sweatpants; he'd been relaxing when he was at home and hadn't bothered to change into anything else at his spur of the moment decision to go to Cuddy's place. Once he discarded the coat onto the nearest chair, he dropped his hand to his bad thigh to grip it as he faced back to Cuddy once he was across the other side of the room.

"Do you honestly think I would do any better?" he asked, equal parts cynical and apprehensive. He rubbed his thigh as he started limping across the other side of the room. "Is that your stealthy way of trying to get me to agree to making sure you don't screw it up? Thought we weren't making any decisions, just talking things through."

He stopped in the middle of the room and looked down at Cuddy. "You don't even trust me most of the time. What makes you think you'd even trust my input on raising a child?"

"No, I'm not trying to push you into a decision right now. I'm merely pointing out there are consequences no matter what you decide."

They both knew that if House decided to stay out of the child's life, it also meant not being part of her life but the implications went further. She wanted him to realize that deciding to reject fatherhood wasn't necessarily the easiest decision. Maybe it was manipulative of her but she didn't care. She was going to try and stack the deck in favor of House staying in her life because that's where she wanted him. And if she could get him to think of this baby as a real person, as his child, then all the better. Surely that would make him less likely to walk away.

Cuddy pulled her feet back up on the couch as House paced around. She tugged her robe more tightly around her, trying to stay warm. She frowned, defensive, when he questioned her ability to trust him.

"I trust you more than you realize," she retorted. She pressed her lips tightly together then because she didn't want to get into an argument. Discussion--yes, arguments--no. Besides, although she did trust him she also questioned his judgement on a regular basis. Of course, she did--sometimes his judgement was insane. And sometimes he was right, and she knew it.

"Realistically, I'm going question your input at times...because you're nuts. But realistically, I know I can go too far the other way." She gave a little shrug. If House was looking for guarantees, she couldn't give him one. She simply chose to act on faith and believe they could work it out. "I'm hoping that we'll balance each other out, and not just for the baby's sake. I want to find a balance for us, too."

"You think I don't know that?" House retorted sharply when Cuddy said that there were consequences no matter the choice he made. That had been part of what had taken him so long to speak to her again - because he'd been agonising over the choices he had. Whichever choice he made had life changing consequences. They certainly weren't choices to be flippant about.

House eyed Cuddy a little incredulously. Maybe she did trust him... to a degree. She was always questioning him, however, and his judgment, so he couldn't really believe she trusted him all that much. But he often did the same thing to her, so it went both ways.

Cuddy saying about balance for the baby's sake brought it back home to House - again - that there was no way he could have anything to do with Cuddy without having something to do with the kid. And once again, he found himself nervous, if not panicky, because... well, because this was damned terrifying. It was amazing how an unborn child could induce so much panic and anxiety. What the hell was going to happen when the thing was born?

House scrubbed his face as if to try and rub away his anxious thoughts, then dropped his hand back to his bad thigh again to give that another rub. "Since when have we ever been about balance?" he argued. "Realistically, you can't even find a balance between trusting my insane judgment and not trusting it."

"Oh, yes, I can. All these years we've worked together--do you really think I haven't found a way to balance what's legal and what you want?"

Most of the time, she spent a fair amount of time arguing with House before she got to the point of giving him what he wanted or covering his ass when she couldn't stop him from doing what he wanted to do. She rarely trusted him right off the bat, and even when she did trust him it was with the feeling she was wrong to trust him.

So yes, she had trouble trusting him but in the end, she usually did. Besides, that was work. She trusted him much further in their private lives. She'd gone skinny-dipping with him, for heaven's sake. She'd put herself in his hands more than once. That had to count for something.

She got up from the couch and walked over to him, lifting one hand to grasp his upper arm. "If I were sick, you're the only one I'd trust to take care of me. I'd argue with you because that's the way I am, but I'd trust you with my life." She gave his arm a little rub as she looked up at him. "I'm trusting you with my happiness, too. Do you think you can do the same?"

"I'm not talking about our working relationship," House retorted.

Except their working relationship was in some ways interrelated to their personal relationship; there were aspects of their working relationship that carried over into their personal one and that would probably never change. House was kind of arguing with Cuddy for the sake of arguing... which was the exact opposite to what he promised himself he would do. Seemed even when he promised not to argue, he still couldn't help himself. He always had to be contrary, even when he knew it wasn't necessary or appropriate.

He watched Cuddy get up from the couch and when she reached him, he half expected her to grab him and start shaking him. He stared down at her as she said she'd trust him with her life. He then looked down, thinking over her question.

"You realise you're essentially trusting me not to screw this relationship up," he said, repeating back the words Cuddy had said to him earlier. "Trusting me with your life isn't the same as trusting me with your happiness. Saving lives is something I'm good at; it's what I do. Making people happy isn't. You should know: you've pointed out enough times in the past that I make everybody around me miserable."

Then he turned Cuddy's question back onto her - not to be contrary and argumentative for once, but to point out what he thought was something important and valid. "Are you really sure you trust me that much?"

"I know it's not the same. In some ways, my happiness is more important than my life. But yes, I trust you."

Cuddy was well aware that House often made everyone as miserable as he was. Whether that was deliberate, she didn't know. But she also knew that he could make people happy when he wanted to. He'd taken her to a fancy restaurant, planned a romantic weekend get-away...dragged her out to an amusement center. He was capable of making her happy. More than that, she recognized that he wanted to make her happy even if he didn't think he could.

"Are you trying to talk me out of this?" she asked with some exasperation. He'd come to her house to say he wanted to continue the relationship, which was the best news she could've hoped for. But even as he said he wanted to try he was also telling her why she shouldn't. Damn him for being so contrary.

She took him by both upper arms and gave him a little shake, more playful than anything. "Maybe we need to take really, really small steps with this thing. We agree we want to be together. Maybe that a big enough decision for tonight."

"No, I'm just..." House began, protesting. He wasn't trying to talk her out of it. He was just... wanting to be cautious. And he was already so wary of that phenomenon known as happiness. He didn't want to set himself up for any more further disappointment or hurt any more than Cuddy did. He couldn't help being skeptical because they'd already had one fight where they said and did very hurtful things to each other. Granted, it was in the heat of the moment, but still.

He rolled his eyes as Cuddy jostled him with a playful shake. "Are you trying to be ironic?" he retorted mockingly when Cuddy said about taking small steps with this. There was definitely nothing small about falling in love or falling pregnant.

He had to agree that agreeing they wanted to be together was enough of a decision, however. There was way too much to sort through; too much to sort through in one night, that was for sure. If they tried to sort through it all, it would end up more confusing and probably another argument. Eventually they'd get their wires crossed somewhere because that always seemed to happened between Cuddy and himself when they tried to talk through big, complicated issues. As for Cuddy being pregnant... well, he didn't want to think about that anymore. Too complicated, too frustrating, no easy answer.

Despite himself, he relented with a faint half smile, lifting a hand to rest it on her upper arm. He rubbed it, then began tugging her towards him. "I'll shut up if you shut up," he agreed, drawing Cuddy into an embrace.

"There's nothing ironic about trying to avoid a fight," Cuddy said. "I really don't want to fight tonight."

She never wanted to fight, of course. It just seemed to happen a lot with them. It happened a lot when they had to discuss difficult topics so she was serious when she suggested they take small steps. She'd love to have everything settled between them but it wasn't going to happen that easily. She'd rather take it slow and make some progress than push too hard and end up in a worse place...like ending the relationship for real, and for good.

"You never shut up," she said dryly, but she moved into him without hesitation. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. For a moment she closed her eyes and relished the chance to hold him close again. She'd felt so alone the last couple of weeks and part of that was the lack of contact--no touches, no hugs, no feeling safe in his arms.

"God, I've missed you," she said softly.

"And you always try to have the last word, and fail," House shot back just as dryly.

House normally wasn't comfortable with hugs. He found them invasive and much more intimate than kisses on some levels. Something about needing to be close, wanting human contact and physically admitting that, was what he found uncomfortably intimate. But as Cuddy wrapped her arms around his waist, he did the same around her shoulders.

He stooped his head and pressed his cheek against the back of her head while she rested her cheek to his chest. He closed his eyes and then it was like Cuddy could read his mind, the way she voiced exactly what he'd just been thinking about her.

He'd meant it earlier, when he said the last couple of weeks had felt empty. He'd missed making her laugh, he'd missed all the things he'd grown to love about her and he'd even missed all the things that annoyed him about her. The worst of it was he thought maybe he'd lost her for good - not just as a partner, but also as a friend he'd known for years.

He pressed his cheek a little firmer to her hair, feeling incredibly grateful that he hadn't lost her. And not just grateful. Holding her like this caused a flood of other feelings to wash through him, too: relief, remorse for saying that they were a mistake, a release of tension that had built up over the past couple of weeks, love. While he didn't express scary sentiments much at all, he expressed them when they mattered. And now mattered.

"I love you," he said quietly.

Cuddy just gave a faint nod. She'd choked up and didn't trust her voice. Hearing House say he loved her this time, well, it meant more somehow than the first time. The first time had been wonderful and it had been something she hadn't expected to hear. She'd never forget that moment. But saying it now, not when they were happy and having fun but when things were so unsettled and even a little scary made those words seem so much more important. They were certainly words she needed to hear at that moment.

She turned her face up to his for a gentle kiss. "I love you, too," she said softly. Then, in a complete non sequitur, she added, "And my feet are freezing."

She let out a little huff of laughter and snuggled into his chest again. Her feet were freezing but she didn't care. She didn't want to be anywhere but where she was right at that moment, cold feet and all. After all, chilly toes were a small price to pay. It was nothing compared to the dead, cold feeling that had weighed on her since their fight and it certainly didn't diminish the relief and love she was feeling now.

Then again, there was no reaon she had to suffer cold feet. She could be happy and close to him and not have cold feet. "Come sit with me," she suggested, pulling back just far enough to look up into his face. "Because seriously, my feet are freezing."

House opened his eyes when Cuddy pulled back, but closed them again as she leaned up to kiss him. He returned the kiss, then pressed his forehead lightly to hers just as she told him she loved him. Those were still scary words to hear, especially right now when things were so uncertain and fragile between them. They were even scarier words to say. But this was ultimately what he'd been longing for the past couple of weeks since their fight, to be back with her; he couldn't recall a time where he felt as glad as he felt right now.

He smiled faintly when she said her feet were cold, and when she cuddled back up to him he gratefully lifted a hand to her head and cradled it against his chest. He rubbed her hair, then stroked it back, not wanting to let her go because... well, he just didn't want to yet. The last couple of weeks had been painful, amongst other things, and he was a little bit afraid of what would happen if he let her go. More talking, more fighting, more stuff he didn't want to face. He'd been so caught up in all this anxious thoughts that he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed Cuddy until now.

Sitting down he could do, though. And actually, now that he'd taken his coat off he was starting feel chilly, too, as the heating wasn't on and all he had on was his t-shirt and sweatpants. "So, what - you're going to put your cold feet all over me instead and make me suffer?" he replied.

He took her hand and led her the few steps to the couch. He sat with Cuddy and settled an arm around her, pressing a kiss to her temple. He realised, then, how tired he felt. Not just from lack of sleep but from the tension of the last couple of weeks. Talking tonight had drained him somewhat, too.

"Drat, you've uncovered my diabolical plan: to keep you in my bed all winter as a foot warmer."

She did have plans to keep House in her bed keeping her feet, and other various body parts, warm. The plans weren't particularly diabolical, though. She simply wanted to keep him around. The thought that for a while there she'd been facing another long, cold winter alone had only added to the depression she'd felt when she thought he'd ended it.

She cuddled up to him on the couch, pulling her feet up under her and away from the cold floor. She let her head rest against his shoulder, suddenly exhausted. She'd been troubled by fatigue anyway thanks to the pregnancy but the strain of the last couple of weeks had also drained a lot of her energy. Now that they were talking again and some of that strain had eased, she could feel just what a toll it had been taking.

Thank god they'd at least agreed to try to work it out. If it took some time, then fine--they'd take the time. What mattered was that they were together and trying to stay that way. The baby kind of put a constraint on how much time they had to sort though things but other than that there was no pressure. No one else even knew. Well, except for one person.

"I should probably tell you that Wilson knows about us. Well, he knows I'm involved with someone but he doesn't know you're the other half of 'us'." She idly rubbed her hand along House's thigh as she spoke. She wasn't sure if he'd be upset she'd talk to someone else but she thought it was better to tell him than to hide it and have him find out from Wilson.

"That day I ran into you on the elevator...I ran into Wilson right after that and I guess I looked pretty pathetic. I guess I was pathetic because I ended up telling him more than I meant to. But I didn't tell him that you're the person I'm involved with so if you don't want him to know, you can still keep it a secret."

"Funny. I seem to recall having a similar conversation before."

House recalled one of the nights he'd cuddled up in bed with Cuddy how he's noted that her feet were cold, and she'd said something along the lines of her feet getting very cold in January. Back then, he wasn't sure what direction their relationship was going in and wasn't sure whether they'd even be together come January. Now he knew, though, that he hoped they'd still be together come January. Cuddy would be around four months pregnant by that point. He felt a sudden twist of anxiety at that thought and quickly shoved it from his mind.

He was just about to ask if maybe it was too soon to perhaps move this from the couch to the bed if she was so cold, when Cuddy mentioned Wilson. House felt a sensation of surprise and dread sweep through him, followed by confusion as Cuddy went on to say Wilson didn't know who Cuddy was with. He sat in silence, a little rigid as he tried to puzzle together what the hell Cuddy was talking about.

And then it suddenly dawned on him, because he knew Wilson and he knew the kinds of games Wilson played. Wilson hadn't offered to talk to Cuddy on House's behalf, probably because he knew House would've said no - he would have, too. But Wilson clearly gone out of his way behind House's back to somehow get Cuddy talking regardless, probably by doing that sickening caring thing he did.

House had confided in him, damn it. He'd confided in him because he needed to talk and trusted Wilson enough to talk to him. He hadn't wanted Wilson to go and check the situation out for himself. He totally should have known Wilson would do that, though. Not that House had any room to object because he wasn't exactly innocent of doing stuff like that himself. But still. God, he felt suddenly... betrayed.

"That bastard," House muttered, equal parts incredulous and furious, without even thinking he might have to explain Wilson had already known until the words were out of his mouth.

Given how intensely private House could be, Cuddy wasn't surprised that he would be annoyed that she'd told someone about them. She was, however, surprised at the strength of his reaction and even more surprised that he was annoyed with Wilson.

"Bastard?" she asked, puzzled. "What did Wilson do?"

As far as she knew, Wilson hadn't done anything but be a sympathetic ear. He'd allowed her to vent some of the painful emotions that had built up inside her and he'd offered a little advice. She liked to believe she was a strong person, and if necessary she would've handled her heartbreak over House on her own, but she'd needed the support Wilson had offered. She'd been grateful for it.

Wilson had even kept her secret, which was a little surprising although she was grateful for that as well. She still wasn't sure why House would be annoyed, though...unless it was because Wilson had kept the secret from him.

"I'm surprised he hadn't mentioned it to you, but that's not a bad surprise. It's nice to know he's not going to gossip about it. And like I said--he doesn't know you're the other half of the equation," she said, settling back against House after having pulled away in her initial confusion. "No harm, no foul, right?"

Maybe he was just overreacting and jumping to conclusions because of how insanely tense and stressful the last couple of weeks had been. Except... no. No, House had confided in him, deeply, and Wilson had to go off and make it his business. The fact that Wilson apparently pretended not to know who Cuddy's other half was, was the bit that stuck out for House. If Wilson already knew, then why the hell did he feel the need to pretend to Cuddy that he didn't?

"Yeah, real big surprise," House replied crisply.

Of course Wilson hadn't told House he'd talked to Cuddy, for the same reason he'd apparently not let on to Cuddy that he was already in the know. Whatever reason that was. House's first reaction, then, was to get up and go straight to Wilson's hotel room to demand to know what the hell he was playing at.

He gave his face a rub, then slapped his hand down onto his thigh. "Right," he replied sarcastically, "because he's always been concerned about your love life. Except not. Up until now, that is, when it involves me. Especially when it involves me."

"But...he didn't know it involved you. Did he?"

Cuddy was confused because the way House was talking it sounded like he knew that Wilson knew. The only way that could've happened was if House had told Wilson himself. And if that were the case, then why had Wilson pretended to be completely ignorant of the situation?

House was right, though; Wilson didn't really keep tabs on her personal life, not the way he did with House's. That should've been her first clue. Wilson had only been interested because he already knew she was involved with House which...was a little hurtful. She knew Wilson always put House first. She understood that, she expected it, but this wasn't just one of House's crazy plans to kill a patient to save a patient. This was her life, her happiness and she was stung to think that Wilson would use that to protect House's well-being.

"Bastard," she echoed softly. On the other hand, she was glad House had someone who did look out for him, someone who tried to keep him from hurting himself. If the tables had been turned, she might well have done the same thing. Wilson's subterfuge still pissed her off, though. "I'm doubling his clinic hours."

She reached for House's hand where he'd slapped it onto his thigh. She slid her hand under his and twined their fingers together. "Deal with Wilson later," she suggested. She'd only told House about her discussion with Wilson because she didn't want a secret coming back to bite her in the ass. She didn't want Wilson to ruin their reconciliation.

"Can you stay the night? Or did you want to go home?"

Well, there was no point hiding that Wilson did know, seeing this had all come out in the wash. "Of course he knew," House snapped.

House had no idea exactly how Wilson had approached Cuddy, but he could just imagine the way Wilson would've talked to her about it. "Let me guess," House continued dryly, "he was really caring and extremely interested in what you had to say."

Yeah, he really could imagine that. He knew Wilson very well. He'd seen Wilson do the same thing time and time again with people. Wilson had done the exact same thing to him numerous times, playing the role so well that even House couldn't pick up that Wilson was being a manipulative bastard.

"It wasn't his business!" House exclaimed, meaning himself now, with the way Wilson had obviously taken the information he knew and gone to Cuddy. It had taken House a lot of courage to go to Wilson for help, only for Wilson to turn around and go behind his back to talk to Cuddy like it was his business.

He sat forward just as Cuddy took his hand and said to deal with Wilson later. He wanted to deal with Wilson now. He did, however, get small satisfaction in knowing Cuddy was going to double Wilson's clinic hours. That was something. But still. Part of him wanted to go right to Wilson's hotel room, bash on the door and disturb his beauty sleep, and give him hell for screwing around with his business.

"I don't know," he replied gruffly. "Didn't really intend on staying because I didn't think..." He trailed off. He didn't think he'd be reconciling with Cuddy was what he was going to say. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying his hardest to let go of how aggravated he now was.

He untangled his hand from Cuddy's so he could lift it to his face to give it a rub. He then uncircled his arm from around Cuddy, resting both elbows on his knees and dropping his face into his hands. God, the last couple of weeks had been fucking awful. In every possible way. This thing about Wilson just seemed to bring all of that back to the surface for him.

"Fucking hell," he muttered wearily under his breath.

When House leaned forward, Cuddy moved her hand to his shoulder and began massaging his tense muscles.

"You know that whatever Wilson does, he thinks he's helping."

Wilson could be as devious as House, more because he didn't appear to be devious. She'd known Wilson for years and even she still got fooled by his Mr. Nice Guy act. Except it wasn't exactly an act. Wilson usually believed he was helping. Even when he got it wrong, he thought he was doing right. That's why it was so hard for her to stay angry with him.

House never stayed angry at him either. The two of them messed with each other's lives and got angry and yet they'd still be hanging out for Wednesday night bowling or Friday night porn or whatever it was they did like nothing had happened. If she and House weren't so emotionally bruised by the last couple weeks, they probably would've shrugged it off. Well, she would. House would probably look for revenge first.

She chuckled then as a thought occurred to her. "You are going to love me." She slid her hand to the back of his neck and tugged him closer. She had a smug smile on her face as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, then she started rubbing his shoulder again.

"Wilson doesn't know you were planning to talk me, right? He certainly doesn't know that we know he's been talking to each of us." She rested her chin on House's shoulder, her grin growing. "So we're going to have a little fun with Wilson. I'm going to tell him a story--I don't know what, you can help me with that--but it'll be something really heartwrenching and Wilson will think you did something really stupid to end the relationship and Wilson will go running to you to ask you why you're such an idiot...and you'll just laugh your ass off."

She leaned in to place another kiss on his cheek. "Not bad, huh?"

House just grunted from behind his hands. He wasn't looking at it from the perspective that Wilson was trying to help, not at that moment. He was too pissed off with Wilson right now to see it any other way. He wasn't just pissed off; he was tired, he was drained, he was still reeling a bit from how horrible everything had been lately.

He ran his hands firmly down his face until they were pressed to his chin as he stared across the room while Cuddy rubbed his shoulders. He kept his eyes focused absently on that spot even as Cuddy tugged him closer to her.

"Hmm?" he replied tiredly when she said he was going to love her. "I am?"

He listened to her plan, a vaguely thoughtful expression morphing on his face the more she talked. He dropped his hands from his face so they were dangling between his knees at the second kiss she pressed to his cheek.

"He knew," House said. "About me planning to talk to you." He paused, thinking back to that conversation he'd had with Wilson in his office. "He was the one who suggested it."

A small smile started to grow on his lips, though. Screwing Wilson around as revenge sounded like a way better plan than going to his hotel room. House turned his head to look at Cuddy, smirking almost admirably at her.

"You're so evil," he said, his smirk broadening even more. "Can you fake crying? 'Cos that'll mean you're really evil. Not to mention convincing. You need to convince him as much as he convinced you."

He studied her face, still smirking deviously. God, he'd missed her. The smirk fading from his face, he lifted a hand to cup her cheek and drew Cuddy in to a soft, lingering kiss.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm evil," Cuddy said dismissively. She was glad, though, that her idea had caught his attention. She felt some of the tension ease in his shoulder and she was relieved that she'd found a way to lift his mood a little. Despite what she'd told Wilson about wanting to make House happy, she knew that was almost impossible job. Making him smile a little every now and then, though, was something she could do.

She didn't feel guilty about pranking Wilson either. It wasn't like they were going to actually hurt him, just give him a little dose of his own medicine. With luck, they'd all get a laugh out of it. She had to admit, as hurt as she was by Wilson misleading her, she probably owed him for encouraging House to talk. She could imagine how reluctant House had been to do that.

"Believe me, between the hormones and...well, everything else--these days I can cry at the drop of a hat. I'll be able to fool Wilson," she said confidently. She was sick of crying in truth but for a good cause she'd manage it.

She gladly forgot about that, though, as they exchanged a tender kiss. She placed her hand over his as the kiss ended and nuzzled against his palm. She forced her tired eyes open to look at him. "Come to bed. I'm tired. You're tired. Let's go cuddle."

House knew at least medically the whole hormone thing when it came to pregnant women. He'd never had to deal with it, though. Not until now, that was. He hoped he wouldn't have to deal too much with it, either, because he wasn't good at dealing with crying women. He let that thought go, however, as they kissed, stroking his thumb over her cheek when she pulled back and nuzzled into his palm.

"For the millionth time, I don't cuddle," he countered. "Or snuggle. Or have anything to do with bunnies. Or snuggling bunnies." He thought about that for a second. "Well... Playboy bunnies, maybe."

Knowing how uptight Cuddy had gotten over his beach bunny remark when they were at Ocean City, he quickly made sure she knew he was joking by giving her a joking but tired smile. She was right, though - he was tired. Exhausted, even.

Taking her hand that was on top of his, in his, he began pushing up from the couch. "Come on," he said. "Before I freeze to death."

Not that it was that cold, but it was chilly enough. He let her hand go long enough to lift his arms and stretch his back, feeling his spine pop in two places, then reached down for his cane. A quick glance at the clock in her living room showed it was well past eleven at night. He gave his eyes a tired rub before following Cuddy out to the hallway. He switched off the light on the way.

"You still got that hideous pink toothbrush?" he asked, trailing behind her down the dark hallway towards her room.

"There's a surprise," Cuddy said dryly when House claimed Playboy bunnies were the only kind of bunny he was interested in. She knew better, though. She knew he enjoyed the kind of quiet affection snuggling entailed...but she was too tired to even pretend to argue about it. If he was smart, he'd get in bed and snuggle for all he was worth.

She hadn't bothered to turn on a light in her bedroom when she'd gotten up earlier so she quickly turned on a bedside lamp so House could see where he was going. She knew her home so well she could pretty well navigate any room in the dark, but she didn't want him crashing into the furniture and hurting himself.

"It's right where you left it," she said as she slipped out of her robe, shivering suddenly in nothing but a simple cotton nightgown. She tossed the robe to the foot of the bed and climbed in between the sheets.

Yes, that stupid pink toothbrush was still sitting in the bathroom, maybe not exactly where he'd left it but close. As despondent as she gotten at times, as certain as she was that the relationship was over, she hadn't been able to get rid of 'his' toothbrush. It was the only tangible reminder she'd had of him and she hadn't been able to bring herself to throw it away or even simply put it somewhere out of sight. It was either a symbol of hope...or she'd just been too pathetic for words.

She settled into the bed, fluffing her pillow the way she liked it. She rested quietly until House finished in the bathroom and returned to the bedroom. As soon as he'd turned out the light and climbed in, she reached out for him.

Sure enough, the toothbrush was right where he left it last. House went to the toilet first, then brushed his teeth after he washed his hands. Once he set his toothbrush back where it belongs, he took a moment to look at himself in the mirror. Either the angle of the light was making him look like he had dark bags under his eyes, or those were real. He looked old and haggard, especially with the way his hair was greying on the sides, thinning at the top and the way the lines of his forehead and around his eyes were deep set. He scrubbed his face with his hands before turning away from the mirror to leave the bathroom, slapping the light off along the way.

"Your house always get this cold?" he complained as he limped around to his side of the bed. He had goosebumps from how chilly the night was. He hated the cold, especially now he was older and nowhere near as tolerable of temperature changes; it made his aging joints ache. After setting his cane aside, he climbed into bed and turned the light off. When he rolled towards Cuddy, he found himself being welcomed into her arms.

He cuddled right up to her, adjusting the bed covers so they were tucked up over their shoulders. "Damn, your feet are cold," he said when he felt them touching his. He let out a sharp breath while he huddled his feet with hers. "Your toes are like ice."

He shifted around a little more until he was comfortable and once he was completely settled, he buried his face in against the side of Cuddy's neck with his eyes closed and breathed in deeply. The slightly sweet smell of her skin mingled with the faint remnants of perfume she'd worn that day - it was such a familiar smell, one he'd grown accustomed to over the last several weeks. It was so... Lisa.

He tightened his arm around her as a feeling of relief and gratefulness for Cuddy filled him, and he lightly nuzzled against her neck, dragging his chin across it before lifting his face to press the side of it against hers. He really had missed her. He'd missed this, just being with her. Turning his head until his lips were against her cheek, he kissed it, then kissed it again.

"I really missed you," he admitted with his lips still pressed to her cheek, so softly it was almost a whisper.

"I sleep better when it's a little cool," Cuddy said. She hated getting up in the morning to cold floors but she did sleep more deeply when she kept the temperature on the cool side. Besides, she wasn't ready to turn her furnace on. She wasn't ready to admit that winter was on the way and soon she'd have no choice but to keep the house closed up and drag out the heavy coats and sweaters and there'd be ice and snow and...ugh. She really didn't like winter. She was trying to wring every last good day out of the late fall.

Besides, that's what House was there for--to keep her warm. The moment he snuggled up next to her she immediately felt much warmer, although that had as much to do with emotional comfort as it did with the amount of body heat. She chuckled, though, when he complained about her feet and she pressed them even closer to his.

"I could wear socks to bed, but that's not very sexy." She didn't feel all that sexy even without the socks. She knew she was pale and the circles had darkened under her eyes. The stress of the argument with House and the physical changes caused by pregnancy had left her feeling like she'd been though the wringer, which was not a sexy look.

"I missed you, and I missed this most of all." She lifted her hand to his face and turned her head just far enough to meet him in a kiss. She brushed her thumb over his cheek thinking it was a little silly to be grateful to feel the prickling, abrasive rub of his stubble against her skin, but she was. It was the little things, even the little annoying things that she'd missed most of all.

"The dates, the weekend--that stuff is great but this is what I missed," she said in between pressing light kisses to his mouth. "And I really don't want to find out what it feels like to miss it again."

With his eyes still closed, House kissed Cuddy softly when she guided his mouth to hers. He rested his forehead to hers in between kisses while she stroked his cheek and spoke. Not that he was thinking about it right now, but he still didn't know what he was going to do in regards to the baby or how he was going to deal with it or what role he was going to play.

But that wasn't what mattered right now. What mattered was Cuddy. Cuddy and him. This was probably the sappiest he'd been in ages, but he couldn't help it - he really was that glad to be back with Cuddy. He'd missed her and missed her kisses and touches and had two weeks' worth of it all to catch up on. This was part of why love was so terrifying for him - not just becoming emotionally vulnerable to someone, but having to deal with the pain that could come with it. And in their case, there'd been a lot of pain over the last couple of weeks. Love really could be as painful as it was pleasurable.

He returned each of her light kisses, then shifted a little so he could slide his arm underneath her to pull her into a full, proper embrace. No, he didn't want to find out what it would be like to miss it again, either. The mere thought exhausted him. He was much too deeply in love with Cuddy to be able to just turn away if it ever happened again. And, god, he really couldn't handle thinking about that thought right now.

Wrapping Cuddy up in his arms, he buried his face back into the side of her neck as he held her tightly to him. "Yeah," he finally agreed, his single-word response faint and muffled against her skin.

After a long few moments, he released his grip from the suffocating hug just enough so he could run his hand down her back and then up into her hair. He pulled back a little to guide Cuddy's mouth to his, kissing her with a little more neediness this time.

Cuddy moved a little as House shifted, until she was on her side fully facing him. She draped her leg over his so that she could press up against him, kissing him almost desperately as she slid her arm around to hold him close to her.

She felt her emotions begin to swing out of control again and she pulled her mouth away and rested her cheek against his as she gulped down a couple of breaths in an attempt to avoid breaking down into tears. She'd blame the hormones if asked, but it was more complex than that.

She was so happy to be with him again, to feel him against her, real and solid. She loved the feel of his hands holding her and the rough sound of his voice. At that moment, she even loved the things about him she didn't normally like so much.

Yet, even though she didn't want to think about the possibility, she was also afraid that she would have to find out what it felt like to miss him again. If he couldn't find some way to accept the baby, it would tear them apart in the end.

She took a few more deep breaths to calm herself, then reached up and rubbed her eyes to make sure no wayward tears could escape. Then she turned her face back to him and put her heart into a deep but gentle kiss.

"I need to sleep," she whispered against his mouth, recognizing that exhaustion was affecting her emotional state as much as the hormonal changes. "Just hold me for a little bit?"

As Cuddy returned the kiss almost frantically, House scaled his kisses up to the same intensity, moving his hand down to her thigh to grip it when she draped it over his hip. He shifted in a bit closer, wanting to feel and get as close to Cuddy as possible and he was just about to start nudging her onto her back to climb on top of her when she broke the kiss.

He ran his hand up her thigh and onto her back, pressing hungry kisses to her neck. It felt so good to be close to her again. After spending these last couple of weeks convinced they were finished, he'd never felt more appreciative of her like he did right now. He felt intense love for her because of that, more intense than usual, and perhaps that was driven a little by fear. Fear of losing her, fear of needing her this much, a kind of subconscious fear that he knew their problems were far from dealt with.

When Cuddy turned her mouth back to his, House anticipated passion... and instead discovered her kisses were gentle. He felt momentarily frustrated that Cuddy was too tired; he pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes while he nuzzled his face to hers and focused on getting himself under control. He felt frustrated because... well, because he felt emotional and he almost couldn't deal with feeling that way. It was like everything from the last two weeks - the stress, being unable to sleep, the problems he had dealing with his nightmares, all of that - was creeping up on him. He eased off a little after a few moments, however, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

"Okay," he whispered back. He lifted his chin and kissed her forehead before pressing their foreheads together again. "Okay, he whispered again.

He cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her softly again, then draped his arm over her to resume cuddling. He rested his face into the crook of her neck and closed his eyes. This position would get uncomfortable eventually because his arm would fall asleep with the way Cuddy was lying on it. He stayed like this with her for now, though. He closed his eyes and drew in a few deep breaths and after a few minutes, he realised just how exhausted he actually was.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Tuesday, October 3rd, 2006

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