cuddys_house | Morning, October 26, Corfu

Morning, October 26, Corfu

Cuddy stirred, rolling to her other side and burying her head in her pillow. Although there was plenty of morning sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains on the balcony doors, she was abdicating her role as the early bird in the relationship. Actually, she'd been doing that a lot on their trip, and what was really surprising was that she didn't feel the least bit guilty about it. House was clearly having a bad influence over her. She shifted position just a touch, trying to fall asleep again. Unfortunately, her bladder had other ideas. She grimaced, her face half smushed in the pillow, but there was no denying a full bladder. Not without unpleasant results.

She slipped out of bed as stealthily as she could. House was sprawled on the other side of the bed and, as far as she could tell, still deeply asleep. She made her way to the bathroom, shivering when her bare ass made contact with the cold porcelain of the toilet. The cool morning air would be refreshing if she were actually interested in getting up. Cold porcelain when all she really wanted to do was go back to sleep was an unwelcome shock. Still, there was a definite sense of relief when her bladder was empty, and she quickly washed her hands, intent on going straight back to bed and curling up next to House.

As she exited the bathroom, her eye was caught by the view of the sea. She made her way over and opened the balcony door just enough to look out. She stood there a moment in nothing but a thin nightie, soaking in the view...which was damn near perfect. In fact, in the short time they'd been on the island, everything had been damn near perfect: the views, the food, the weather, even the hotel. She'd enjoyed everything they'd seen, everywhere they'd been so far, but there was something about this place that had made her fall in love with it immediately.

They'd arrived on Corfu the previous afternoon after an overnight ferry trip from Venice. They'd had a good couple of days in Venice (good being defined as no major arguments and no outbreaks of PTSD) and when House had, purely on a whim, chosen Greece as their next destination, she'd been willing to go along. Greece wasn't on her top list of places to see but if the opportunity was there, she wasn't going to turn it down. She'd worried a bit about the long ferry ride. After House's complaints about the train, she wasn't sure how he'd do being cooped up on a boat for almost a day. The trip hadn't been bad, though. Since they were both comfort whores, they'd splurged on getting an actual cabin so they'd have a bed to sleep in, and so House could have privacy if he needed it. Outside of their cabin, there were diversions on board to keep House reasonably entertained. As it turned out, she had the biggest problem with the journey and that had been sea-sickness. Or maybe it was another bad bout of morning sickness, or even a combination of both. Either way, it had made her miserable enough that she'd asked House for some of the anti-nausea medicine he'd brought. And yes, she'd felt guilty about taking it but it had done the trick.

She opened the balcony door a bit wider to feel the breeze. The sun was already warming the air for what promised to be another mild, sunny day. She glanced over her shoulder at the bed and her smile grew wider. House was still lying just as she'd left him. He looked so peaceful it seemed a shame to wake him. Not enough of a shame to stop her from doing it, though. She left the balcony door standing open and walked back to the bed. He only stirred a little when she slipped under the covers and moved close to him. Still smiling, she propped herself up on one arm and leaned over to press light kisses to his face, so light her lips barely touched his skin. He wrinkled up his face at that but still didn't wake. Curious as to how long he'd continue to sleep through the kisses, she moved down, placing more kisses across his chest. She made a trail of kisses along his collarbone, then nuzzled into his neck for a few more before flicking her tongue over his earlobe.

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"Yeah, I'm still waiting for the day evolution catches up with this fact and makes every female come with subtitles," House agreed dryly.

Cuddy was right. He couldn't count how many times they'd completely misunderstood each other. Over stupid things, too. Him being the way he was, he always asserted that he was right and Cuddy was the one who had it all wrong when it came to communication. But even then he had to admit there were times he'd completely missed a point she was making, too, because he'd misunderstood her.

He ran his hands down over her hips and around to her ass for a grope just as she had to spoil the moment by reminding him of room service. He returned the light kiss when she turned to face him. "If you're hinting that should be me, you guessed wrong," he replied.

To prove he wasn't getting out of the shower yet, he picked up the soap and started washing his chest again, even though he didn't need to. And just as he did that, a knock sounded at the door. "I nominate and volunteer you to get dressed and answer the door because I'm helpful like that," he said.

"You don't need subtitles; you simply need to learn to say 'yes, dear' to everything I say," Cuddy said with a laugh.

As if that would ever happen. She probably wouldn't like it if it did. Obviously there were times a compliant House would be a relief. She'd certainly be willing to give it a try it now and then. But he wouldn't be House if he didn't argue and she'd probably get bored pretty quickly if he didn't challenge her.

She gave him an exasperated look when he told her to answer the door. It would be easier for him to do it...except that it was easier for her to do it rather than argue the point. She quickly got out of the shower and dried off. She ran a quick comb through her hair, then hurried into the bedroom. She shouted toward the hall door that she'd only be a minute. She hoped whoever was on the other side would understand her meaning if not her words.

"Lazy bastard," she mumbled to herself as she dug through her suitcase for her robe. After a few rushed seconds, she found it and slipped it on. The robe was thin and clung to her still damp body but it was marginally more presentable than running around in nothing but a towel. She didn't want to take the time to fully dress in case the hotel employee got impatient and left with their breakfast.

She finally answered the door and let the man in. He got the tray set on the small table in the room, then smiled at her as he left. She took a quick look at the meal and didn't see any baby squids which was a relief. She debated going back to the bathroom to put on a touch of make-up, do something with her hair, then get dressed, but the smell of the food made her stomach rumble.

"Better get your lazy ass out here," she called as she seated herself at the table. "Otherwise I'm eating your share, too."

House continued washing himself while Cuddy went to answer the door. He gave his underarms a thorough wash as well as his privates, then ran his head under the water once again after rubbing some shampoo through it. He shut off the shower and stepped out, drying himself with a towel just as Cuddy called out for him to get his ass to the table.

He poked his head out the door to look at her. "Yes, dear," he replied in a mock cheerful tone.

After he dried off the rest of himself, he limped out into the bedroom while still rubbing the towel over his hair. He couldn't be bothered dressing yet and left his hair sticking in all angles while he wrapped the towel around his middle. Then he sat at the table, scowling at the lack of coffee. The food smelled great. But breakfast without coffee was like eating cereal without milk.

"When is coffee going to stop being an issue?" he complained.

Cuddy chuckled to herself when House answered with "yes, dear." It was kind of nice to hear him be so agreeable even if it was a joke. In fact, it was so nice she just might have to encourage him to say more often. She knew that would be an uphill battle but if she managed it, if he said it once in a while, it would be an improvement.

Despite her threat, she left his breakfast alone. She didn't waste time starting on hers, though. She was really hungry. And thirsty. She drained half a glass of orange juice before she started in on the eggs and toast. After several healthy mouthfuls, though, she made herself stop, take another drink and give her stomach time to realize it actually had food in it. Yes, she was hungry and yes, she actually needed to eat more calories than she would normally but that didn't mean she had a license to make a pig of herself.

She glanced over as House sat, whining about the lack of coffee. She shrugged in response because he knew as well as she did that she couldn't give him a definite answer.

"Morning sickness usually subsides near the end of the first trimester. So...soon?" She picked up her fork again but before she took another bite of eggs, she gave it a little shake in his direction. "You're not the only one who's had to learn to live without coffee. And you only have to do it part-time."

She glanced over at the open balcony door, considering whether she wanted to risk spoiling her morning. Then she gave House an assessing look, wondering if he wanted coffee badly enough to risk spoiling her morning.

"You can try," she finally said. "Just keep it away from me and leave the door open."

House didn't want to get into a discussion about trimesters and pregnancy and anything else that centred around it apart from the fact that he wanted coffee, and he gave a mild roll of his eyes at what Cuddy said. "Since coming on this trip with you, make it full-time," he replied.

There'd only been a few times he'd had coffee on this trip, and every time he ended up having to drink it outside or not being allowed to come near Cuddy with coffee breath. Which was when she then mentioned keeping coffee away from her and leaving the door open.

"You make it sound like I'm smoking around you," he argued. "Only people who hate cigarette smoke say things like 'keep it away from me' and 'leave the door open'."

Forget it, he thought to himself. He'd just go without because if he had coffee, he'd have to stay well away from Cuddy after he finished it, too, unless he scrubbed his teeth and rinsed his mouth out with bleach. Seemed Cuddy, like most pregnant women during their first trimester, had super sensitive sense of smell because he was positive she could detect the smell of coffee even when it was heavily disguised with mouthwash and toothpaste.

"Guess you should be glad I don't do that anymore," he continued. "I can imagine being a smoker and being in a relationship with you wouldn't mix well."

Cuddy ignored his complaint about going without coffee full time. She had warned him when he first told her about the trip. She'd pointed out that he'd be traveling with a pregnant woman. A pregnant woman in her first trimester at that. He'd chosen to ignore the warning and she figured it was his own fault if he had to suffer along with her.

"Not very well at all," she said, giving him a serious look. In a way she was surprised he didn't still smoke. It kind of went with the drugs and the drinking.... Although she had to admit, since the ketamine treatment, he'd stayed away from the drugs. She knew he'd taken more Vicodin than he truly needed when he was still using it but he had quit it completely once the pain was gone.

"You're a great kisser but even that wouldn't be enough to compensate for a mouth that tastes like an ashtray." She couldn't even begin to imagine how that would affect her morning sickness. She probably would've had to keep him completely away from her or risk puking 24/7.

She lowered her gaze slightly to his bare chest. In fact, because his towel was hidden by the table, it looked like he was sitting there naked. She lifted her eyes to his again with a sly smile.

"I really prefer you in your 'natural' state--no artifical scents. Or clothes."

Being the health freak Cuddy was, House could only imagine how much Cuddy would've gotten on his case if he smoked. Before the infarction, he'd been a regular smoker, particularly when he lived with Stacy. He'd hated her penchant for menthol cigarettes, disliking the way they tasted, but still had a habit of his own. After the infarction, however, he'd had to kick the habit because of being hospitalised for so long. He felt healthier without smoking, anyway, and hadn't liked the way cigarettes reminded him of Stacy. Not to mention that the infarction had actually scared him off smoking again (though he still had the very occasional smoke here and there).

He stabbed his fork into his eggs, glancing down at his chest when Cuddy mentioned liking his 'natural' state. He looked back up to her and made a pointed leer at her chest. "Funny that, because I prefer you in your natural state, too. The less clothes, the better."

He took a bite of his eggs, a little self-conscious now that Cuddy had drawn attention to his near-nakedness. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable being naked or near naked around Cuddy; he just wasn't used to being admired for his nakedness, especially when he thought there was so little about himself to be admired physically.

Setting his fork down, he picked up his toast and sat back to munch on it, giving Cuddy an assessing look while he did so. Having the topic of the pregnancy raised yet again and the topic of 'natural states' brought House's thoughts around to the fact that Cuddy was going to start showing any time soon. He lowered his eyes to her belly and found himself having a little internal freak out at the thought of her being nine months pregnant. The noticeable changes in her body were already enough of a reminder of what was to come - her breasts were fuller and firmer, which was the one thing about this pregnancy that House didn't mind. But they were going to eventually go into the dairy business once the spawn was ejected from her body, which would mean... Well, House didn't particularly want to think about what that would mean.

"Judging by your appetite, your parasite-induced morning sickness can't be that bad," he observed while Cuddy ate.

"Sorry I can't go naked all the time for your viewing pleaure," Cuddy said dryly. The one thing she never had to question was that House found her physically attractive. No matter how he expressed it, even with jokes, his admiration was clear. It was a good feeling. Obviously physical attraction wasn't enough to sustain an actual relationship but a lack of physical attraction would be a definite drawback. The physical side of a relationship was important to her. Besides, she was vain enough to like being seen as attractive.

"It varies from day to day," she said before reaching for her juice and taking a drink. She set the glass down and used her napkin to wipe a drop from the corner of her mouth. "Some days the very thought of food makes me sick. Other days I'm so hungry I can't seem to get enough to eat."

She glanced down at herself. She wasn't noticeably pregnant yet. She'd always had curves. Now they were just a little fuller and softer. Her stomach didn't have an obvious 'baby bump' but it, too, was a little fuller and her waist a little less defined. She could see the difference but no one else would. At least, she didn't think anyone else would.

"Why?" she asked, looking across the table at House, her expression one of concern. "Do I look fat?"

"I'm sorry, too," House replied with equal dryness, though there was also a hint of a whine in there, too. If he had it his way, Cuddy would be either naked or in the kind of clothes he liked to picture her in, all the time. Being a guy, he was turned on by what he saw. Of course, that wasn't the only thing about Cuddy that turned him on, but visual stimulation had always been his foremost thing for being turned on.

Not that he had much time to think about that. He continued munching on his toast while Cuddy explained the state of her appetite from day to day. Then House suddenly blinked when Cuddy asked him if she was fat. How - and why - did women focus on whether they were fat or not? He had no idea how Cuddy had surmised that he was referring to her weight. That had been the very last thing he'd been thinking about.

"Yeah," he replied with utmost sarcasm. "You look fat."

He snorted, shaking his head while he took another bite of his toast. Cuddy was anything but fat. And if she was going to get paranoid about her weight during this pregnancy and expect House to constantly reassure her, she didn't know him very well because House was hardly a person to compliment, let alone reassure. Especially over something so trivial.

"When did I say anything about your weight?" he argued around his mouthful.

Cuddy frowned when he told her she looked fat. She recognized the sarcasm but she wasn't sure if it was his 'based on truth' sarcasm or his 'total lie' sarcasm. She could handle looking pregnant. She looked forward to it, in fact. But she couldn't handle looking fat. She'd never been obsessive about her weight--she'd never had an eating disorder or anything like that--but she wasn't about to let herself go either.

"You said I was eating a lot, and eating a lot and being fat tend to go hand in hand." She looked down at herself again, running a hand over her belly. No, she wasn't fat. Definitely not. Her clothes still fit--albeit a bit more snugly in some cases--and if her clothes still fit she couldn't be fat. Obviously. So there was no reason to be paranoid.

She didn't look fat or pregnant and that was for the best right now. She still hadn't decided how she was going to handle it when the pregnancy became apparent to everyone. Obviously she wouldn't be able to deny the fact for long and she didn't necessarily want to. It was more the sticky issue of hiding or revealing the father's identity that worried her. It wasn't even her decision to make, not entirely. Until House decided what he wanted to do, she was going to be left with no choice but to keep secrets.

She grabbed another piece of toast and took a big bite, the set of her jaw almost defiant. Whatever his intention had been, she wasn't going to let House make her sensitive about her appearance. "So what's on the agenda for today?" she asked, reaching for a glass of water to wash down the big chunk of toast in her mouth.

This was another time where subtitles or something equally as helpful was needed in order for House and Cuddy to communicate, because House didn't know how Cuddy had taken his remark to mean she was eating a lot and was therefore making a remark about her weight.

"No," he replied in a condescendingly patient tone. "I didn't say you were eating a lot, and I didn't say anything about your weight. I made a comment about your appetite in reference to your morning sickness. Or apparent lack thereof, as it would seem this morning."

Jeez, what was it with women and their weight? House watched the way Cuddy was touching her stomach, and he thought to himself how men rarely voiced any concerns about whether they were fat or not. He certainly didn't. It wasn't even something he ever considered. He'd never really had to worry about his weight - he'd always had the kind of metabolism where he burned off whatever he ate. He was getting softer around the middle as he got older, though. But even that wasn't anything he was very concerned about.

He shrugged at her question. Coming to Greece had been like the rest of the vacation: unplanned. He took a sip of his juice, glancing out towards the open doors leading out to the balcony. A fresh, cool sea breeze was gently blowing in and the sun bright and high in the sky. Setting his glass back down, he picked his fork up to eat more of his eggs.

"Go to the beach," he said finally. "I feel like having a lazy day. And you can't get any lazier than lazing around on a beach."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, mildly exasperated. He'd commented on her appetite which, in her mind, was the same as commenting on her weight. She'd reassured herself, though, and it wasn't worth arguing the point any further.

She perked up when he mentioned going to the beach. She loved the idea of hanging out on the beach, soaking up the sun and swimming. She wanted to explore town a little, maybe check out some of the shops, but that could easily be worked in around a beach outing. She wondered if Corfu had any nude beaches.... Well, whatever, she intended to take her camera bacause House on a beach definitely had blackmail potential.

"I hope you remembered to pack your Speedo," she said with a grin. She'd eat her own bikini if House actually owned a Speedo. Those skimpy things didn't fit with his personality at all, not to mention she doubted he'd be all that eager to expose his thigh to public view. He didn't strike as the beach bum type to begin with. She wasn't sure why; beaches were great places for being lazy and he loved to be lazy. Still, for some reason she had a hard time picturing him with sunblock on his nose and sand in his shorts.

"Just remember the rule about beach bunnies," she warned mildly. She pushed her plate aside before she could eat so much she made herself sick. She drank down the last of her juice and pushed away from the table. "I'm just going to try to do something with my hair and get dressed."

"Actually, I was thinking of borrowing one of your bikinis," House replied.

He rolled his eyes then, because as if he had any Speedos. He hated Speedos. He pretty much hated any other kind of swimwear for men, too, excepting long board shorts. Those were the only kinds of swim wear he was ever willing to wear in public because they did a good enough job of hiding his scar. He'd packed some board shorts, too, just in case. He hadn't thought they'd ever come in handy, but they were going to now.

"What, I can look but I can't touch?" House taunted Cuddy about the beach bunnies. "Or was it I can touch so long as I'm looking at where my hand is? I can't remember which rule it was." Of course he wasn't going to touch. That wouldn't stop him from looking because his eyes had a mind of their own when he was around women in bikinis and skimpy clothes, but looking didn't mean anything. He checked out women all the time without it meaning anything.

While Cuddy went and got ready, House finished his breakfast and juice, then got up to get dressed himself. He tossed the towel that was around his waist into the bathroom along the way to his suitcase, and sat on the end of the bed and dragged the suitcase towards him to rummage around in it. At the very bottom of the case he found his board shorts; a faded dark grey pair that came down to his knees, covering his scar. He pulled them on, then fetched out a blue t-shirt which he shrugged into. After tying his shoes on and getting his sunglasses, he was ready to go. He grabbed a couple of towels from the bathroom and slung them over his shoulder, then took a seat on the couch to wait for Cuddy.

Cuddy was still smiling at the thought of House in a bikini--talk about your weird mental images--when he just had to start in about the beach bunnies.

"Touch and you die," Cuddy threatened in a dry tone as she headed into the bathroom. The idiot just didn't know when to leave well enough alone. Fortunately, she was in such a good mood that the fat comment, not even the beach bunny threat, could ruin it. Such a good mood she kind of wondered at it. Was it possible the pregnancy hormones were giving her a good day for once? Normally they only made her feel sick or irritable or ridiculously weepy but maybe she was getting past that stage. Whatever the reason, she decided she'd just enjoy it.

Since they were just going to the beach, she simply pulled her hair into a loose ponytail. The sea air would make the curl uncontrollable anyway and she couldn't see the point of fussing with it. She pulled on her red bikini and headed back into the bedroom. Most of the stuff she'd need--sunglasses, camera, etc--were already stuffed into her bag. She just needed to pull some clothes on over her swimsuit and she'd be ready to go.

She slipped on a lightweight cotton blouse and pulled a cute little skirt out of her suitcase. It was a casual skirt--a big flowery print--but like all her skirts it fit her like a second skin. She slipped into it and reached to pull up the side zipper. Puzzled when it didn't zip all the way to the waistband, she lowered it slightly and checked that it hadn't gotten caught on a fold of fabric. There was nothing in the way, though, so she tugged it up again and again it stopped a couple inches short of the top. Stopped because it simply couldn't close the gap because there was too much of her in the way.

She had a slightly stunned expression on her face, and then she remembered House was sitting on the couch. Oh, god, she didn't need him commenting on her weight again. If she left the blouse untucked, it would hide the fact the zipper wasn't fully closed. She'd still know, of course, but she'd prefer to have time to process the information for herself before she had to deal with his jokes.

"Just need my shoes and we can go," she said as she quickly buttoned her blouse.

From where House was sitting, he could see Cuddy getting dressed, and he watched with interest if only because he'd seen she had a red bikini on. She got dressed way too quickly for his liking, though, and he noticed her fiddling with the zip on her skirt but thought she was just fiddling with it because it had gotten stuck on a bit of material. It wasn't like her to go around in an untucked blouse, though.

"What, you're not going to tuck that in?" he asked once she approached him with her shoes on. Not that he cared about clothes and how they were presented, but he wasn't used to Cuddy not tucking her shirts in and going completely casual. Usually, even when they went out on a completely casual date, she still dressed neatly for the occasion. He ran his eyes down her body, settling his gaze on her legs for a moment because the skirt was short and tight enough to demand attention drawn to her legs. He admired them appreciatively for a moment, then turned his eyes back up to her face.

"You still paranoid about being fat?" he snorted. He couldn't think of any other reason why she was choosing to hide her figure under the shirt. Because surely she wasn't already gaining around her middle from the pregnancy. House simply refused to believe that was possible, or even acknowledge it. He pushed himself up from the couch, passing a towel across to her. "Believe me, I'll tell you if I ever think you're packing on the beef."

House didn't mind padding on a woman. In fact, he liked it. Curves were sexy, and women were meant to be curvy and have shape. He loved Cuddy just as she was, but he wasn't going to complain if she got a little curvier in places. That would just be all the more for him to grab. But when curves went beyond curves to merely being excess fat, that wasn't sexy. He grabbed his cane along the way to the door and opened the door when he reached it. He held it open for Cuddy and then followed her out, locking the door behind him.

He fell into step beside her. "I really prefer you in your natural state," he said, echoing what he and Cuddy had been talking about earlier. "Less clothes, more bikini."

It only took a second to slip her shoes on and she quickly grabbed her bag, thinking that the faster they got going, the less likely it was House would be looking at her too closely. It was a good idea. Unfortunately it didn't work out that way.

"This is my 'going to the beach' look," she said when he pointed out her blouse was untucked. If it weren't for the fact that he knew her and knew how she dressed, there'd be nothing to notice. The blouse hid the incompletely zipped zipper, and the skirt fit her fine even through the hips and ass. It was only at her waist that it couldn't quite close the gap. She could ignore it to some extent, or she could if House didn't keep harping on the subject.

"Thanks, I look forward to your sure-to-be-tactful updates," she said, giving him a look that clearly indicated he should drop the subject of her weight. "Should be as much fun as stepping on the scale at every doctor's visit."

Stepping on the scale had never been an issue for her before. Her weight only fluctuated a little. As long as she felt good, and felt she looked good, she never worried about the actual number. Now she had to balance the need to gain weight in order to have a healthy baby against the threat of gaining too much or too little, neither of which would be good for her or the baby. Worrying about the numbers was a different situation for her, and she just knew House wasn't going to be any help.

"You'll get plenty of the bikini once we're at the beach." And not just her bikini, she was sure. In fact, as her body changed, how likely was it that he'd prefer to look at her? He liked her body just the way it was and he didn't like the pregnancy. When she began to look obviously pregnant, how was that going to affect his physical attraction to her?

Great. Every time she thought she'd found a way to deal with her insecurities, a new one popped up. Or, in this case, a variation on an old one. Fat Cuddy versus the young beach bunnies: she was afraid it wouldn't even be a contest.

She fidgeted with the towel she'd slung over her shoulder as they headed as the elevator descended to the lobby. She didn't want to think about beach bunnies and skirts that didn't fit. As soon as the doors opened, she stepped out briskly.

"I'm just going to see if they have any information about the local beaches," she told House as she headed for the rack of tourist pamphlets at the front desk.

There Cuddy went again, completely misinterpreting what he'd said. He threw her an annoyed look as they headed into the elevator, though tried to let the 'fat' subject drop because it was clear Cuddy wasn't going to interpret him correctly no matter what or how he said it.

However, once they were in the elevator and the doors had closed, House turned to Cuddy. "When did I say anything about giving you 'updates'?" he argued. "I never said you were fat. I said I'd tell you if you started loading on the pounds. The keyword being if."

It suddenly struck House why Cuddy may have misunderstood him: the pregnancy. She was going to start putting on weight then, but that was going to be mostly baby rather than actual fat. God. That hadn't even been what he'd meant when he'd said about 'putting on weight' or 'fat'. He rubbed his hand over his forehead and turned away so he was facing the doors, deciding to drop the subject for good because he didn't want to get into a discussion - or argument - about Cuddy's weight, let alone about the pregnancy.

He took Cuddy's poor excuse for a quick escape as his own poor excuse for a quick escape. "I'll wait for you outside," he agreed quickly and while she headed off to the racks, he made a beeline for the door.

A refreshing blast of cool sea air hit him the moment he stepped out, salty and fresh, though when he moved into the sun he realised it was a hot day - the sun was hot and fierce. Which was perfect. He loved the heat and the hotter it was, the better.

Cuddy glanced over her shoulder as House took off for the outside. She wasn't sure what had sent him running but for the moment she didn't care. As long as the whole subject of her weight got dropped, he could go anywhere he wanted.

She spent a few minutes perusing the various pamphlets. The woman at the front desk stepped over to offer her assistance and, happily, she spoke excellent if accented English. Cuddy gladly mined her for information, not just about the beaches but about the shops and restaurants in the area. She wasn't going to pass on the chance for an insider's knowledge.

"Wow," Cuddy said as she joined House outside. In their room, all she'd felt was the cool sea air blowing through the balcony door. This was the first time she'd gotten out under the intense sun. And boy, did it feel good. She loved warm weather and she was very aware that back in New Jersey the weather would getting colder and wetter. This was a whole lot better.

"Well, there's a beach close by," she said. She handed him a couple of brochures, then pulled her sunglasses from her bag. "Just to the end of the block and turn left down to the sea. It's nice but sometimes crowded because of all the hotels in the area. Or there are some other, nicer, less crowded beaches but we'd have to take a taxi to get to them." She gave a little shrug and looked at him. "It's your call."

While House stood on the street, looking from left to right to check it all out, he squinted against the sun's glare until he slipped his sunglasses on. Cuddy was taking her time checking out the pamphlets and after leaning against a street sign post for a while, he pushed away from the post to go inside to see what she was doing - which was when she finally ventured out from the hotel.

"Took long enough," he mildly complained just as she joined his side and remarked about the heat. It was pretty hot, too. A wonderful dry heat that was making him break out into a mild sweat already. His temples were glistening slightly with sweat and he could feel perspiration breaking out on his forehead.

He took the brochures she offered him, glancing over them quickly, and then looked over his shoulder in the direction Cuddy pointed that the nearest beach was. He just wanted to get to the beach. On the other hand, he didn't like crowds. Then again, this wasn't exactly high season for tourists. Not that he'd noticed so far, anyway.

"Hmm," he mused, facing back to Cuddy and tapping the brochures against his palm. He likewise shrugged. "We'll go to this beach. If it's too crowded, we'll then go to one of these beaches by cab." He waved the brochures at her in gesture of the other beaches, then handed them back to her.

Turning around to start towards the beach, he reached for Cuddy's hand and twined their fingers together. Standing outside waiting for Cuddy had given him the time to unwind from how annoyed he'd been getting over the whole fat conversation. He glanced across at Cuddy as they headed down the street and offered her a crooked thin-lipped smile when he met her gaze.

"Besides," he continued to break the silence between them, "the sooner we get to a beach, the sooner I can enjoy that itsy bitsy teeny weeny not-polka dot bikini you have on." And he added just to annoy Cuddy in fun, "And beach bunnies."

Cuddy nodded and stuffed the brochures in her bag. She genuinely didn't care which beach they went to. Any warm, sunny beach at this time of year was fine with her. They'd had a nice, relaxed start to the day and she hoped to continue it through the rest of the day. Sitting around on a beach sounded like a good way to do that.

She gave him a curious look as he took her hand, then gave an exasperated sigh when he brought up the beach bunnies again. He really didn't know when to keep his mouth shut.

"Start eyeing up the beach bunnies and you can forget about enjoying the bikini...or anything inside the bikini for that matter," she shot back. Would she really get in a snit because he ogled a few girls on the beach? As long as it was a subtle ogle, probably not. Looking was just looking. As long as he wasn't an ass about it, she could keep her insecurities in check.

They turned the corner and headed directly toward the sea. They were still just about a block and a half from the beach, but as far as she could tell, it didn't look too crowded. Definitely not the kind of crowded where you had to tiptoe between the rows of sunbathers to reach the water.

"You know...," she said slowly, giving his hand a squeeze. "If you're that interested in the beach bunnies, we could negotiate some sort of arrangement."

She glanced up at him with all the innocence she could muster. She wasn't really interested in an arrangement where he could check out the women as long she got to look at the men. It was usually better, however, for her to match him rather than let his teasing get to her. Ultimately the goal was the same; she just didn't look quite so pathetic.

"You can enjoy the bunnies," she explained. "Just as long as I get to enjoy the lovely Greek buns. Oh, I meant men--the lovely Greek men."

House gave Cuddy a look, amused by how easily uptight she could get at the mere mention of beach bunnies. He didn't get why she got so insecure about whether he looked at other women or not. He looked, sure. He was a guy. But there was a huge difference between just looking and desiring. The only woman he looked at that he also desired was Cuddy. She, for some reason, never seemed to get this, however.

"Oh, come on. Are you really going to start denying me my needs just because I'm a guy?" he replied. "Blame my gender, not me."

He shook his head to himself as they rounded the corner. He had to admit to himself, though, that he was actually a little glad that Cuddy was possessive of him enough to get insecure over whether he looked at other women or not. Sure, it could be annoying when she kept on about it. But that she wanted him that much to herself made him feel pretty good, regardless. Part of the reason why he teased her about it was because he liked seeing how possessive she got. Also, he just liked getting a rise out of her.

He glanced at her again, an eyebrow raised curiously when she mentioned a negotiation. And then it was his turn to feel a little insecure, even though he knew she was probably joking about checking out Greeks and their asses. "You think I can control what your eyeballs can do?" he argued. "It's hardly a negotiation when you'll be doing the whole checking Greek bums out thing anyway."

He wasn't so keen in the idea of Cuddy checking out other guys. Maybe that made him a hypocrite, but he felt a lot more inadequate than most other guys. He was older, for a start. And not very good looking. And scarred, and had a limp. As far as House was concerned, he didn't have a whole lot going for him. And there were plenty of other guys out there who could way outdo him in the attractive department.

He pulled Cuddy to a halt as they passed a bakery and steered her over to the bakery window. "There," he said, pointing at the buns on display. "Enjoy ogling some Greek buns. Get it out of your system before we hit the beach."

"Your gender may create the impulses but a brain as big as yours should be able to control them," Cuddy said.

She knew that even if House spent the entire day ogling beach bunnies, he wasn't going to act on it. She knew that. But what she knew wasn't always consistent with what she felt. Her intellect could tell her he wasn't interested in anyone else all day long and the emotional part of her brain would still be insecure. Having gotten an unexpected reminder of the changes in her body only made it worse.

She did laugh, though, when he steered her toward the bakery. "But those buns don't move," she protested. She wasn't actually all that interested in checking out other men or their buns. It was, however, a lot easier on her ego to have House be the one feeling insecure and not her. At the same time, though, she knew making him feel insecure could backfire badly. He could be just as uncertain of his own attractiveness, possibly even more than she was. And when he got insecure, he could be just as touchy to deal with. Since a grumpy House wasn't part of her plan for the day, she decided to ease off.

"Come on," she said, looping her arm in his and setting a course for the beach. "My luck--most of the buns on display will be old and flabby and not worth looking at anyway. I'll just stick with the ones I know haven't gone past their expiration date."

"I could buy a couple and move them about in the air for you, if you'd like," House sniped back, though he was smiling when he said it. Getting a laugh out of Cuddy made him relax a little, and he allowed her to tug him to keep walking when she looped her arm through his.

He made a show of looking over his shoulder, trying to look at his ass. "Maybe give it another ten more years," he observed about his own 'buns'. Not that he thought his ass was anything special, but he knew it hadn't downgraded to old and flabby just yet. Cuddy's ass, however - that was something special. It was one of his favourite parts on her body, apart from everything else.

He turned his attention to her ass, craning his neck to peer down past her back at it. "All the buns I'm interested in is down there," he said. He looked back up to her face, leering. "Nothing like a good bun to bite."

They finally approached the beach and House withdrew his arm from Cuddy's as they headed down onto the sand. He had to walk a little slower and more carefully over the sand; the uneven, soft ground made it a bit difficult for him to walk. But the beach wasn't too busy and when they reached a spot that was relatively clear of people, House motioned for Cuddy to stop where they were.

He laid his towel out, then sat down with a grunt and pulled off his shoes. His shirt came off next and he piled that on top of his shoes. "Suppose you haven't got any sunblock," he realised.

"Great, that's all I need--teeth marks on my ass," Cuddy said, but she was smiling. At least her ass hadn't enlarged yet. Let House stayed focused on that and maybe he wouldn't notice the parts that had gotten bigger. For a while anyway.

She slowed her pace as they reached the sand. She knew he wouldn't be able to walk well on a surface that shifted under him. In fact, she was surprised he walked as well as he did. His cane had to be nearly useless in the sand but he managed. She stayed close to him, though, in case he needed help. Although by now she knew better than to look like she was hovering so she let her eyes wander the beach, taking only small sideways glances at him until he picked a spot.

She spread her towel out next to his, then quickly shed her skirt and sat down. She was still feeling a little self-conscious, what with the whole unzipped zipper thing, and she wanted to get the skirt off without House noticing. She unbuttoned her blouse and slid it off her arms, folding it and setting it on top of the skirt.

"Please," she scoffed. "Do I go anywhere unprepared?" Well, obviously there were times she couldn't prepare because she didn't know what situation she might fall into, but he should know by now that she tended to be a little obsessive about that kind of thing. If anyone were to go through her bag they'd find all kinds of things that wouldn't seem necessary but she had them anyway because...well, you just never knew when it might come in handy.

"I'll get your back," she said, crawling over to kneel behind him. She squirted some sunblock from the small tube and handed it to him over his shoulder so he could apply some to his chest. She rubbed the cream over his back in light strokes all the way from his shoulders to the top of his swim trunks. When she'd covered his back, she leaned forward and reached around to wipe a dab of cream on the tip of his nose.

"Don't miss any spots. I don't want to have to listen to you whine if you end up looking like a lobster."

House just watched in amusement as Cuddy retrieved a bottle of sunblock from her bag. "You're like Mary Poppins with that bag," he said. "Small, yet seemingly bottomless."

As she knelt behind him to rub cream into his back, he squirted cream out onto his hand and smoothed it over his chest and along his arms. He looked out to the sea all the while. Even though he had sunglasses on, he still had to squint against the glare of the sun's reflection on the water. It had been a long time since he'd been to the beach, aside from their time in Ocean City. The sun felt hot and scorching and wonderful, too. Already he could feel the powerful UV rays cooking at his skin.

He scrunched his nose up when Cuddy dabbed cream on the tip of it. "How unsympathetic of you," he replied. He wiped the cream off his nose, squirted some more cream out onto his hand and resumed lathering himself up, his face included. He patted the spot in front of him on his towel for Cuddy to sit on.

He took the opportunity to ogle her as she stepped in front of him, parting his legs and drawing up his knees as she sat down between them. He squirted more cream out onto his hand, then passed the tube over Cuddy's shoulder. He rubbed the cream into her back, digging under the straps of her bikini to rub cream into those spots, too.

"Oh, look," he said as he rubbed cream into Cuddy's shoulders, spotting a woman heading for the water. She was elderly and had a very typical elderly bathing suit on. Podgy around the middle, lots of sinewy skin, hobbled awkwardly as though she had a mild case of arthritis. "Now that's what I call a beach bunny," he said with mock enthusiasm.

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