The Love Boat
This is a birthday fic for the Glitter Queen herself Syd (aka partypantscuddy) who gave me the prompt, “House and Cuddy go on a cruise.” Fluff she requested, and fluff she shall get. Syd lights up my life by always being her silly, unfiltered, Taco-Bell-loving, middle-age-couple-shipping, celebrity-whispering, spazzily excited self. Her tumblr is one of my favorite time killers on earth. Also, she is a cyborg who never sleeps and is therefore always available to entertain me. Finally, one day she’s going to be on Broadway and I totes want free tickets. Happy birthday, Syd! *Throws glitter* - atd
House and Cuddy were enjoying a rare night in, snuggling on the couch, when the doorbell rang.
“Are we expecting anyone?” House said.
Cuddy frowned. “No.”
He shrugged.
“It’s probably just Jehovah’s Witness or some barefoot hippie canvasing for Green Peace. I’ll get rid of em.”
He popped up, opened the door, then let out a huge sigh.
“It’s much worse than we thought,” he said.
“Get out of my way,” Arlene Cuddy said, shoving past him.
“Arlene, lovely to see you!” House said, with false cheer.
“Mom!” Cuddy said. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to congratulate you two on your one-year anniversary.”
“It’s not our one-year anniversary,” Cuddy said.
“I’m not even sure how you would calculate our one-year anniversary,” House agreed. “But if you’re talking about the night she dumped her fiancée and we made sweet dirty love-and I mean that, quite literally; I was covered in ash-you’re late by, oh, three months.”
“I’m talking about the one year anniversary of my knowing that you two were a couple,” Arlene said.
“Your narcissism literally knows no bounds,” House said, and Cuddy elbowed him.
“Everyone knows that a relationship isn’t official until the mother knows about it,” Arlene said.
“Putting aside the fact that you went undercover to meet me, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Be that as it may, I’m here to congratulate you two. And give you this gift.”
She reached into her pocket and procured an envelope, which she handed to Cuddy.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and find out!”
House folded his arms, already concerned. Cuddy shot him a nervous look, then tore into the envelope. She pulled out a brochure and two large tickets.
“Two tickets on the Regal Atlantic Cruise?” she said, staring at them, confused. “You’re going on a cruise?”
“No, you are,” Arlene said.
Cuddy actually laughed out loud.
“Mom, you know that House and I don’t have time for a cruise.”
“I knew you two workaholics wouldn’t take any significant time off work,” Arlene said. “That’s why I bought you the weekend ‘Cruise to Nowhere.’”
“Cruise to Nowhere?” Cuddy said.
“You just circle the Atlantic and never get off the ship.”
“It’s official, your mother hates us,” House said.
“Shut up, House,” Arlene said. “I spent a lot of my hard-earned money on this gift. And when my dear Seymour was alive, he and I went on one of these Regal cruises and found it very romantic.”
“I don’t know…” Cuddy said, wrinkling her nose. “I mean, it’s a very sweet gesture but…”
“No chance we’re going!” House said, resolutely. “On top of being trapped at sea with the worst kind of people on earth-people who voluntarily chose to go on a cruise, they’re floating disease carriers! Sea-born petri dishes!”
“I assure you, Regal Cruises has an excellent safety record. They have a whole page about it on their website,” Arlene said.
“The fact that they need to have a whole page is all you need to know about how unhealthy cruises are,” House countered.
“Are you really rejecting my generous gift?” Arlene said.
“Yes!” House said.
“No!” Cuddy said, at the exact same time.
They looked at each other.
“Mom, we’ll think about it, okay. I’ll let you know tomorrow. Either way, it’s a very thoughtful gift.”
Arlene folded her arms, slightly mollified.
“They actually have a jewelry shop, on board the ship,” she said, looking at House. “Fully stocked.”
House let out a loud snort.
“So that’s what this is about,” he said. “You think I’m going to propose to Cuddy on the cruise.”
“I think no such thing!” Arlene said, defensively. “I was merely mentioning the jewelry store. It’s duty-free.”
“And fully stocked,” House said.
Arlene shot him a look.
“Please let me know by tomorrow,” she said huffily. “If you two are going to break my heart, I’d like it to be quick, like the removal of a bandage.”
“In that case, we’re definitely not-“
“We’ll get back to you, mom,” Cuddy said, leaning over to kiss Arlene good night.
That night, after House and Cuddy climbed into bed, he said to her: “So how are we going break the news that we’re not going on the cruise to your mom. You can tell her and I can run interference. Small kitchen fire perhaps?”
“I think we should go,” Cuddy said, musingly.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“It’ll make my mother happy,” Cuddy said.
“Because she manipulated us and got her way!”
“That is my mother’s version of happy.”
“You don’t want to go on a cruise. It’s ugly America at its…ugliest. It’s everything you hate: Tacky people, doing tacky things. I assure you, there’s not a morsel of quinoa or scoop of Greek yogurt to be found.”
“They have a pool, right? Where I can wear my new bikini? And drinks with umbrellas in them? And a big strange bed for us to. . .christen. It’s a vacation. You and me. We haven’t one of those yet.”
“I’ll take you to Mont St. Michel, like we talked about…” he said.
“That was over a year and three months ago, as you recently pointed out. And we still haven’t gone. It’ll be fun to get away. For a weekend. Just the two of us.”
“And two thousand of our new disease-carrying roommates.”
“Pleeeeease.” She gave him a particularly adorable pouty face.
“Oh God, I am so going to regret this. . .” he moaned. “But if it’s really what you want.”
“It is!” she said, climbing on top of him and devouring him with kisses. “I love you!”
“Here’s hoping you feel that way after the cruise.”
######
It was a sea of couples in Bermuda shorts and sun visors, with cameras dangling around their necks and giant canvas tote bags stuffed with suntan lotion, vending machine-style snacks, and tabloid magazines.
For his part, House was dressed in a short-sleeved linen shirt (a gift from Cuddy) and baggy blue shorts. (All of House’s shorts and swimsuits had to be oversized to cover his scar, but it fit his style anyway. He wasn’t exactly the Speedo type.) She was wearing a floral sun dress, oversized straw hat, and espadrilles. They looked positively glamorous by comparison.
There was, of course, a greeter, with a mega-watt smile and alarmingly tanned skin, placing a lei around the neck of all boarding passengers.
“She seems to be confusing the Jersey Shore with Hawaii,” House whispered Cuddy. “A common mistake.”
The lady checked her clipboard.
“Drs. House and Cuddy, right?” she said, checking them off.
They nodded.
“Welcome to Regal Cruise!” she said, ecstatically, placing the lei around their necks.
“Thank you!” Cuddy said.
House rolled his eyes a bit.
“Uh oh, looks like someone got dragged on this cruise against his will,” the greeter cracked, winking at Cuddy.
“You mean, someone else besides me?” House said.
“He’ll live,” Cuddy said.
“You are going to have the best time!” the greeter said. “We’ll be calling you Tom Cruise by the end of this trip. Get it? Tom Cruise?”
“So I’ll be a barely humanoid Scientologist who’s deeply in the closet?” House said.
“He’s a handful,” the woman said, to Cuddy, with a wink.
“That’s what she said,” House said, winking back.
“You have no idea,” Cuddy said, wearily.
She took House’s hand and led him toward the cabins.
“I’m Peggy,” the greeter shouted after them. “Ask for me by name if you need anything!”
“Did she just offer us a threesome?” House whispered.
Cuddy shook her head and laughed.
The room was pretty nice, with randomly nautical touches, like a decorative inner tube over the bed, an ashtray that was shaped like an anchor, and cartography posters on the walls.
“I could handle this for 48 hours,” House said, bouncing on the edge of the bed. “Do they have room service?”
“We’re not staying in the room the whole time,” she scolded.
“You said we’d christen the bed!” he protested.
“Not the second we arrived in the room!”
He pulled her toward him, between his legs, his hands slowly riding up her sun dress.
“You sure about that?” he said.
She leaned down and kissed him on the mouth.
“Positive,” she said. “I want to explore the ship.”
“And I want to explore you,” he said. His hands had reached her ass, which he was beginning to massage, turning them both on.
Their kisses grew deeper.
“It probably is a good idea to have some alone time before we partake in any of the group activities,” she agreed, as they fell back on the bed.
#####
House won that round and they did end up spending the whole day in bed, having sex, watching TV, and ordering “cabin service.” It felt decadent and sexy-Cuddy couldn’t remember the last time she had done something so completely self-indulgent.
But the next morning, she was restless.
At breakfast in the Ship Shape Grill, Cuddy leafed through the brochure.
“Oooh,” she said. “There’s a pottery-making class at 11.”
“Enjoy,” he said.
“Really? We could do our best Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore in Ghost impression,” she said.
“I’m pretty sure he dies in that film,” House said.
“True….” She continued to look through the brochure. “Oh, here’s one I know you’ll like: Couples Massage.”
“I think last night proved that I am more than capable of giving you a good massage,” he boasted.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Fair enough.”
“I suppose yoga is completely out of the question,” she said.
“Knock yourself out.”
“You really don’t mind?” she said. “I mean, if I do some of these things on my own?”
He looked at her, incredulously.
“And you really don’t mind if I don’t?”
“No,” she shrugged. “As long as we’re both enjoying ourselves, it’s a win-win in my book. I’ll find you later . . . at the bar?”
“It’s like you know me better than I know myself,” he said.
She kissed him goodbye and merrily went on her way.
Later, Peggy, the overly tanned and cheerful cruise director, spotted House drinking alone at the bar.
“Still brooding I see,” she said.
“Actually, this is me happy,” House countered.
She smiled.
“So where’s that gorgeous gal of yours?”
“I dunno. Basket weaving or bungee jumping or belly dancing or whatever the hell it is that you guys offer.”
“You’re just letting her wander around the decks herself?”
“It’s a ship. I’m pretty sure she can’t get that lost.”
“I mean, beautiful lady like that. I’m sure she’ll acquire lots of male admirers.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” House said, taking a thoughtful swig of his drink.
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
He shrugged.
“They can admire all they like. She’s mine.”
Peggy smiled, in a tolerantly amused way.
“You ought think about participating in some of the ship’s activities. You might surprise yourself.”
“I know myself extraordinarily well, but thanks anyway.”
She shook her head.
“I’ll see you around the ship, Dr. House.”
About half an hour later, Cuddy came into the bar, filled with cheery energy, dressed in a turquoise blue bikini and some sort of kimono-like cover-up. She was carrying a beach bag.
“Hi!” she said, sitting down next to him, kissing him on the cheek.
“Hi back,” he said, looking her up and down approvingly. “You look hot. I could get used to Resort Cuddy.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking a sip of his scotch, then frowning over how strong it was. “You having fun?”
He shrugged.
“Peggy paid me a visit. Encouraged me to participate more in the ship’s rich bounty.”
“Speaking of which,” she said, reaching into her bag. “I made you this . . .blobby thing. It was supposed to be a bowl. The best laid plans. . .”
“I shall treasure it for life,” he said. “Now what was that about getting laid?”
“Nice try. It’s beautiful out there. I’m going to the pool.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t suppose you want to. . .”
He was about to say no when he remembered what Peggy had said about admiring men. Cuddy alone at the pool in that bikini suddenly didn’t sit so well with him.
“Tell ya what,” he said. “I’ll run up to the room and change. Save me a lounge chair.”
“Really?” she said, happily.
“Sure. Why not?” he said. “All that time around Peggy’s leathery skin made me crave the sun. Either that or a new pair of gloves. . .”
“Yay!” she said. “Speaking of which, don’t forget the suntan lotion.”
#####
She was lying on a lounge chair in the sun, a pair of oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, her legs crossed, oblivious to all the men who were staring at her.
As always, House felt a twinge of pride that the empty chair next to her was saved for him.
“You are the sexiest woman here,” he said, looking around. “And it’s not even close.”
She chuckled.
“There are a bunch of 21-year-olds at this pool,” she said idly.
“And your point…?” he said, sitting down and taking off his shirt.
She smiled at him. His lean torso, with its light matting of hair, and his ropy shoulder muscles, had always turned her on, too.
“You’re not so bad yourself, gramps.”
He tossed her the tube of suntan lotion. “Good. Rub me down, woman!”
After applying suntan lotion to each other (“I’m pretty sure that part of my ass covered by my suit,” she scolded, as he worked on her. “Sunrays can be sneaky,” he replied) they lay side, both reading their books (hers: Just Kids by Patti Smith; his A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin). Occasionally, just because, Cuddy would reach over and touch the tips of his fingers, which made him happy. If it weren’t for the cacophony of shrieking children and the general encroachment of the crowd, it would almost be. . .nice.
“Hi I’m Bobby and I’ll be your server today!” a chipper young man in an embarrassing sailor cap said.
“Thank God,” House said. “I’ll have a scotch.”
“We only serve froze daiquiris and pina coladas at the Shady Shack Bar.”
“I know you have scotch on this boat,” House said. “I was just drinking one, not 45 minutes ago.”
“That was inside, at the Captain’s Lounge. Here at the pool, we just have daiquiris, pina coladas and, uh, soft drinks.”
“I’ll have a pina colada,” Cuddy said.
“Christ,” House said, rolling his eyes. “I guess I will too.”
The young man brought back the drinks, which, yes, did include an umbrella and, incongruously, an orange slice on the rim. House took a sip.
“Good god this is sweet,” he said. “If Rachel drank one of these, we could turn her into an alcoholic in no time!”
“Shut up, I like it,” Cuddy said, sipping hers. He grinned at her.
Just then, none other than Peggy, the cruise director, materialized at their side.
“Do my eyes deceive me?” she said, with exaggerated shock.
“Is Dr. Gregory House actually lounging in the sun and sipping on a …fruity drink?”
She pulled a camera out of her pocket.
“Smile! I need to preserve this moment for our Big Wall of Regal Guests.”
“Take a picture of me and I’ll tell everyone at this resort that you had a cancerous mole removed from your upper right deltoid,” House hissed. “Not exactly the best advertisement for fun in the sun.”
Peggy put down the camera, shocked, and lightly touched the barely noticeable scar from where the mole had been removed. For a second, her cheerful mask dissolved, and then, just as quickly, it snapped back into place.
“I guess he still need a few more drinks in him, huh?” she said to Cuddy, winking broadly.
“Sorry,” Cuddy said. “I should make him wear a sign: Do Not Poke.”
“He’s a hoot!” Peggy said, unconvincingly, and moved onto the next guests.
“Now that was just mean,” Cuddy said, when she was out of earshot. “And there’s no way you could’ve known that mole was cancerous.”
“Her entire presence is like nails on a chalkboard to me,” House said. “And she’s the poster child for skin cancer. It was an educated guess.”
“You’re impossible,” she said.
“But you love it,” he replied.
She chuckled.
“Let’s go swimming,” she said. “You can do naughty things to me under the water.”
“Sweet.”
######
They took a nap when they got back to the room, both tired and slightly sunburnt, despite their diligence with the suntan lotion.
When they woke up, they had sex, and then watched a little TV.
“I’m famished,” House said, finally. “More cabin service?”
“Actually . . .” she made a slightly guilty face.
“Uh oh, I don’t like that look.”
“I ran into the captain’s wife at yoga and she invited me to sit at the captain’s table for dinner tonight.”
“That does sound wonderful. Unfortunately, I didn’t pack anything dressy. Not even a tie. Such a shame. I’m profoundly disappointed.”
“Nice try. I packed your tie. And a sports jacket.”
“I truly hate how organized you are,” he grumbled.
She pat him on the shoulder with feigned sympathy.
“You’re life is so hard,” she said.
“It is,” he pouted.
“It’ll be fun. She said her husband could take us inside the ship’s controls. He might even let you steer!”
“Oh goody!”
She sniffed a bit.
“I thought you’d like that.”
“I would have. When I was 12.”
“Well, what’s done is done. I already RSVP’d. They’re expecting us in”-she looked at the clock on the end table, and quickly climbed over him to get off the bed-“half an hour!”
#####
Dinner was in the Starfish Grill at a large round table that was slightly set off from the rest. There were about 4 couples at the table, including the captain and his wife.
“Oh my God, if you’re sitting here, who’s steering the ship!” House said, in mock horror.
“I have a whole crew that takes care of that,” the captain said, in a reassuring voice.
“He’s kidding,” Cuddy said.
They sat and ate, with House asking the captain a million questions about the Regal Cruise’s electro-hydraulic system. (Whenever House met someone who possessed more knowledge on a subject than he did-a rarity-his curiosity was insatiable.)
Meanwhile, this one annoying woman at the table named Dorothy kept insisting that she knew House and Cuddy, especially once she established that they were also from New Jersey.
“Earl, don’t they look familiar?” she said to her husband.
He looked up vaguely and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe.”
“I swear I know them,” she said. “Do you two ever go to line dancing at Bubba’s on Tuesdays?”
“Uh, no,” House said, glancing at his cane.
“Karaoke Night at the Lucky Lounge on Thursdays?”
“Negative.”
Then she looked at Cuddy, “Do you ever attend those Betty Vee Cosmetic parties?”
“No,” Cuddy said, finally getting a bit annoyed herself.
“What else can it be?” Dorothy said. “I know I’ve seen you! Where do you two work?”
House was about to tell her when Cuddy interrupted and said: “Actually, House is a filmmaker and I am his leading lady, his occasional co-star, and his muse.”
This got everyone’s attention.
“Filmmakers!” Dorothy said, vindicated. “That must be it. What kind of movies?”
House looked at Cuddy curiously.
“Specialty films,” she said.
“Would I know any of the titles?” Earl asked.
“Well, there’s, um, Four Weddings and a Foursome,” Cuddy said, as House nearly spit out his drink. “What else honey?”
“The, uh, Boner Identity?” he offered.
“Right,” Cuddy said. “And, of course, The Bigger Bang Theory.”
“You make…porno films?” Dorothy said, aghast.
“We prefer the term, erotic art films.”
Earl glared at her. “So that’s where you know these two from?”
“No!” Dorothy said. “I swear! I’ve never watched a porn film in my life.”
“Now that’s just sad,” House said.
“You’ve probably just seen us at the local Starbucks,” Cuddy said breezily, as she and House exchanged a sneaky grin.
After dinner, they did get to the visit the ship’s controls and the Captain, appreciative of House’s interest in his work, let him steer.
“If you want, you can even sound the horn,” the Captain said. “Everyone cover your ears.”
So House pulled the horn, which sounded like a giant, cacophonous fart resonating through the Atlantic Ocean.
“Coooool,” he said.
######
“You wonderful creature, you” House said, nuzzling Cuddy that night as they climbed into bed. “How did you come up with that porno thing?”
“It just popped into my head. I mean, that Dorothy woman would just not let it go.”
He smiled at her, but then his face grew pensive.
“What?” she said.
“It’s . . .nothing,” he said. “Forget it.”
“Okay, now you really have to tell me.”
He hesitated.
“I just. . .sometimes I think about the years we wasted. All that dancing around each other, never admitting our feelings. It could’ve been like this the whole time.”
“But it’s like this now,” she said, kissing him on the mouth. “That’s what counts.”
“Yeah,” he said.
“And I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said, and he began kissing her throat and breasts, his mouth migrating to her stomach and then between her thighs.
“Now let’s rehearse for our next blockbuster,” he whispered. “The Cunning Linguist.”
“Mmmmm,” she said, arching her back and moaning a bit as he began lapping at her. “Yes, lets.”
In the morning, they had sex again and ordered room service, which they ate, barefoot and in terry cloth robes, on the edge of the bed.
Then Cuddy began to pout.
“Check-out is in an hour,” she said. “Our vacation is officially over.”
“Not gonna lie,” House said. “It was too short.”
“It felt like the world’s shortest honeymoon,” she cracked.
“Our actual honeymoon will be much longer,” he said, putting his arm around her.
“Ha ha. I just got you say we’re going on a honeymoon,” she teased.
He looked at her, seriously.
“It’s customary right after the wedding, right? So what do you think. . .in the spring? Mont St. Michel?”
Her eyes widened.
“House, what are you talking about?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you got too much sun.”
“I’m serious. I love you. So much. You’re the only person on this godforsaken planet who could’ve made this weekend bearable, let alone fun. I wasted 20 years of my life not being with you and I’m done waiting. Lisa Cuddy, be my wife.”
As he was talking, she began to smile and then, at some point, the smile mixed with ridiculously happy tears.
“Oh my God, yes!” she said, hugging him with such force they fell back on the bed. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
######
Peggy was there to say goodbye to all the guests and, of course, couldn’t help but notice the dumb grin plastered on House’s face.
“Are you actually smiling?” she said. “Or is that just gas?”
“The thing is,” he said, still slightly dazed. “She said yes.”
“Wow!” Peggy said, now grinning herself. “I’ll be damned! Congratulations, you two!”
Then she turned to Cuddy: “Honey, I don’t know what you do to him. But keep on doing it.”
“Don’t worry,” Cuddy said knowingly. “I intend to.”
That evening, when they got back home, they dropped their heavy luggage to the ground with a sigh and House rapped his cane loudly on the floor.
“Land ho!” he said.
“Who you calling a ho?” she cracked.
He laughed, kissed the top of her head, and stretched.
“All this making-all-your-dreams-come-true stuff was exhausting. I need a nap,” he said. He cocked his head toward the room. “You coming?”
“I’ve got to to call Mom first.”
“Oh God, can’t that wait?”
“No.”
So she called Arlene to deliver the good news. They chatted, animatedly, for several minutes until Cuddy handed the phone to House.
“She wants to talk to you,” she said.
He rolled his eyes a bit, but took the phone.
“Don’t gloat,” he said to her.
“Moi? Gloat? Never!” Arlene said in a sing-song voice. “I just think we need to start planning my victory party. . . I mean, uh, your engagement party.”
THE END
House and Cuddy were enjoying a rare night in, snuggling on the couch, when the doorbell rang.
“Are we expecting anyone?” House said.
Cuddy frowned. “No.”
He shrugged.
“It’s probably just Jehovah’s Witness or some barefoot hippie canvasing for Green Peace. I’ll get rid of em.”
He popped up, opened the door, then let out a huge sigh.
“It’s much worse than we thought,” he said.
“Get out of my way,” Arlene Cuddy said, shoving past him.
“Arlene, lovely to see you!” House said, with false cheer.
“Mom!” Cuddy said. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to congratulate you two on your one-year anniversary.”
“It’s not our one-year anniversary,” Cuddy said.
“I’m not even sure how you would calculate our one-year anniversary,” House agreed. “But if you’re talking about the night she dumped her fiancée and we made sweet dirty love-and I mean that, quite literally; I was covered in ash-you’re late by, oh, three months.”
“I’m talking about the one year anniversary of my knowing that you two were a couple,” Arlene said.
“Your narcissism literally knows no bounds,” House said, and Cuddy elbowed him.
“Everyone knows that a relationship isn’t official until the mother knows about it,” Arlene said.
“Putting aside the fact that you went undercover to meet me, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Be that as it may, I’m here to congratulate you two. And give you this gift.”
She reached into her pocket and procured an envelope, which she handed to Cuddy.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and find out!”
House folded his arms, already concerned. Cuddy shot him a nervous look, then tore into the envelope. She pulled out a brochure and two large tickets.
“Two tickets on the Regal Atlantic Cruise?” she said, staring at them, confused. “You’re going on a cruise?”
“No, you are,” Arlene said.
Cuddy actually laughed out loud.
“Mom, you know that House and I don’t have time for a cruise.”
“I knew you two workaholics wouldn’t take any significant time off work,” Arlene said. “That’s why I bought you the weekend ‘Cruise to Nowhere.’”
“Cruise to Nowhere?” Cuddy said.
“You just circle the Atlantic and never get off the ship.”
“It’s official, your mother hates us,” House said.
“Shut up, House,” Arlene said. “I spent a lot of my hard-earned money on this gift. And when my dear Seymour was alive, he and I went on one of these Regal cruises and found it very romantic.”
“I don’t know…” Cuddy said, wrinkling her nose. “I mean, it’s a very sweet gesture but…”
“No chance we’re going!” House said, resolutely. “On top of being trapped at sea with the worst kind of people on earth-people who voluntarily chose to go on a cruise, they’re floating disease carriers! Sea-born petri dishes!”
“I assure you, Regal Cruises has an excellent safety record. They have a whole page about it on their website,” Arlene said.
“The fact that they need to have a whole page is all you need to know about how unhealthy cruises are,” House countered.
“Are you really rejecting my generous gift?” Arlene said.
“Yes!” House said.
“No!” Cuddy said, at the exact same time.
They looked at each other.
“Mom, we’ll think about it, okay. I’ll let you know tomorrow. Either way, it’s a very thoughtful gift.”
Arlene folded her arms, slightly mollified.
“They actually have a jewelry shop, on board the ship,” she said, looking at House. “Fully stocked.”
House let out a loud snort.
“So that’s what this is about,” he said. “You think I’m going to propose to Cuddy on the cruise.”
“I think no such thing!” Arlene said, defensively. “I was merely mentioning the jewelry store. It’s duty-free.”
“And fully stocked,” House said.
Arlene shot him a look.
“Please let me know by tomorrow,” she said huffily. “If you two are going to break my heart, I’d like it to be quick, like the removal of a bandage.”
“In that case, we’re definitely not-“
“We’ll get back to you, mom,” Cuddy said, leaning over to kiss Arlene good night.
That night, after House and Cuddy climbed into bed, he said to her: “So how are we going break the news that we’re not going on the cruise to your mom. You can tell her and I can run interference. Small kitchen fire perhaps?”
“I think we should go,” Cuddy said, musingly.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“It’ll make my mother happy,” Cuddy said.
“Because she manipulated us and got her way!”
“That is my mother’s version of happy.”
“You don’t want to go on a cruise. It’s ugly America at its…ugliest. It’s everything you hate: Tacky people, doing tacky things. I assure you, there’s not a morsel of quinoa or scoop of Greek yogurt to be found.”
“They have a pool, right? Where I can wear my new bikini? And drinks with umbrellas in them? And a big strange bed for us to. . .christen. It’s a vacation. You and me. We haven’t one of those yet.”
“I’ll take you to Mont St. Michel, like we talked about…” he said.
“That was over a year and three months ago, as you recently pointed out. And we still haven’t gone. It’ll be fun to get away. For a weekend. Just the two of us.”
“And two thousand of our new disease-carrying roommates.”
“Pleeeeease.” She gave him a particularly adorable pouty face.
“Oh God, I am so going to regret this. . .” he moaned. “But if it’s really what you want.”
“It is!” she said, climbing on top of him and devouring him with kisses. “I love you!”
“Here’s hoping you feel that way after the cruise.”
######
It was a sea of couples in Bermuda shorts and sun visors, with cameras dangling around their necks and giant canvas tote bags stuffed with suntan lotion, vending machine-style snacks, and tabloid magazines.
For his part, House was dressed in a short-sleeved linen shirt (a gift from Cuddy) and baggy blue shorts. (All of House’s shorts and swimsuits had to be oversized to cover his scar, but it fit his style anyway. He wasn’t exactly the Speedo type.) She was wearing a floral sun dress, oversized straw hat, and espadrilles. They looked positively glamorous by comparison.
There was, of course, a greeter, with a mega-watt smile and alarmingly tanned skin, placing a lei around the neck of all boarding passengers.
“She seems to be confusing the Jersey Shore with Hawaii,” House whispered Cuddy. “A common mistake.”
The lady checked her clipboard.
“Drs. House and Cuddy, right?” she said, checking them off.
They nodded.
“Welcome to Regal Cruise!” she said, ecstatically, placing the lei around their necks.
“Thank you!” Cuddy said.
House rolled his eyes a bit.
“Uh oh, looks like someone got dragged on this cruise against his will,” the greeter cracked, winking at Cuddy.
“You mean, someone else besides me?” House said.
“He’ll live,” Cuddy said.
“You are going to have the best time!” the greeter said. “We’ll be calling you Tom Cruise by the end of this trip. Get it? Tom Cruise?”
“So I’ll be a barely humanoid Scientologist who’s deeply in the closet?” House said.
“He’s a handful,” the woman said, to Cuddy, with a wink.
“That’s what she said,” House said, winking back.
“You have no idea,” Cuddy said, wearily.
She took House’s hand and led him toward the cabins.
“I’m Peggy,” the greeter shouted after them. “Ask for me by name if you need anything!”
“Did she just offer us a threesome?” House whispered.
Cuddy shook her head and laughed.
The room was pretty nice, with randomly nautical touches, like a decorative inner tube over the bed, an ashtray that was shaped like an anchor, and cartography posters on the walls.
“I could handle this for 48 hours,” House said, bouncing on the edge of the bed. “Do they have room service?”
“We’re not staying in the room the whole time,” she scolded.
“You said we’d christen the bed!” he protested.
“Not the second we arrived in the room!”
He pulled her toward him, between his legs, his hands slowly riding up her sun dress.
“You sure about that?” he said.
She leaned down and kissed him on the mouth.
“Positive,” she said. “I want to explore the ship.”
“And I want to explore you,” he said. His hands had reached her ass, which he was beginning to massage, turning them both on.
Their kisses grew deeper.
“It probably is a good idea to have some alone time before we partake in any of the group activities,” she agreed, as they fell back on the bed.
#####
House won that round and they did end up spending the whole day in bed, having sex, watching TV, and ordering “cabin service.” It felt decadent and sexy-Cuddy couldn’t remember the last time she had done something so completely self-indulgent.
But the next morning, she was restless.
At breakfast in the Ship Shape Grill, Cuddy leafed through the brochure.
“Oooh,” she said. “There’s a pottery-making class at 11.”
“Enjoy,” he said.
“Really? We could do our best Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore in Ghost impression,” she said.
“I’m pretty sure he dies in that film,” House said.
“True….” She continued to look through the brochure. “Oh, here’s one I know you’ll like: Couples Massage.”
“I think last night proved that I am more than capable of giving you a good massage,” he boasted.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Fair enough.”
“I suppose yoga is completely out of the question,” she said.
“Knock yourself out.”
“You really don’t mind?” she said. “I mean, if I do some of these things on my own?”
He looked at her, incredulously.
“And you really don’t mind if I don’t?”
“No,” she shrugged. “As long as we’re both enjoying ourselves, it’s a win-win in my book. I’ll find you later . . . at the bar?”
“It’s like you know me better than I know myself,” he said.
She kissed him goodbye and merrily went on her way.
Later, Peggy, the overly tanned and cheerful cruise director, spotted House drinking alone at the bar.
“Still brooding I see,” she said.
“Actually, this is me happy,” House countered.
She smiled.
“So where’s that gorgeous gal of yours?”
“I dunno. Basket weaving or bungee jumping or belly dancing or whatever the hell it is that you guys offer.”
“You’re just letting her wander around the decks herself?”
“It’s a ship. I’m pretty sure she can’t get that lost.”
“I mean, beautiful lady like that. I’m sure she’ll acquire lots of male admirers.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” House said, taking a thoughtful swig of his drink.
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
He shrugged.
“They can admire all they like. She’s mine.”
Peggy smiled, in a tolerantly amused way.
“You ought think about participating in some of the ship’s activities. You might surprise yourself.”
“I know myself extraordinarily well, but thanks anyway.”
She shook her head.
“I’ll see you around the ship, Dr. House.”
About half an hour later, Cuddy came into the bar, filled with cheery energy, dressed in a turquoise blue bikini and some sort of kimono-like cover-up. She was carrying a beach bag.
“Hi!” she said, sitting down next to him, kissing him on the cheek.
“Hi back,” he said, looking her up and down approvingly. “You look hot. I could get used to Resort Cuddy.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking a sip of his scotch, then frowning over how strong it was. “You having fun?”
He shrugged.
“Peggy paid me a visit. Encouraged me to participate more in the ship’s rich bounty.”
“Speaking of which,” she said, reaching into her bag. “I made you this . . .blobby thing. It was supposed to be a bowl. The best laid plans. . .”
“I shall treasure it for life,” he said. “Now what was that about getting laid?”
“Nice try. It’s beautiful out there. I’m going to the pool.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t suppose you want to. . .”
He was about to say no when he remembered what Peggy had said about admiring men. Cuddy alone at the pool in that bikini suddenly didn’t sit so well with him.
“Tell ya what,” he said. “I’ll run up to the room and change. Save me a lounge chair.”
“Really?” she said, happily.
“Sure. Why not?” he said. “All that time around Peggy’s leathery skin made me crave the sun. Either that or a new pair of gloves. . .”
“Yay!” she said. “Speaking of which, don’t forget the suntan lotion.”
#####
She was lying on a lounge chair in the sun, a pair of oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, her legs crossed, oblivious to all the men who were staring at her.
As always, House felt a twinge of pride that the empty chair next to her was saved for him.
“You are the sexiest woman here,” he said, looking around. “And it’s not even close.”
She chuckled.
“There are a bunch of 21-year-olds at this pool,” she said idly.
“And your point…?” he said, sitting down and taking off his shirt.
She smiled at him. His lean torso, with its light matting of hair, and his ropy shoulder muscles, had always turned her on, too.
“You’re not so bad yourself, gramps.”
He tossed her the tube of suntan lotion. “Good. Rub me down, woman!”
After applying suntan lotion to each other (“I’m pretty sure that part of my ass covered by my suit,” she scolded, as he worked on her. “Sunrays can be sneaky,” he replied) they lay side, both reading their books (hers: Just Kids by Patti Smith; his A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin). Occasionally, just because, Cuddy would reach over and touch the tips of his fingers, which made him happy. If it weren’t for the cacophony of shrieking children and the general encroachment of the crowd, it would almost be. . .nice.
“Hi I’m Bobby and I’ll be your server today!” a chipper young man in an embarrassing sailor cap said.
“Thank God,” House said. “I’ll have a scotch.”
“We only serve froze daiquiris and pina coladas at the Shady Shack Bar.”
“I know you have scotch on this boat,” House said. “I was just drinking one, not 45 minutes ago.”
“That was inside, at the Captain’s Lounge. Here at the pool, we just have daiquiris, pina coladas and, uh, soft drinks.”
“I’ll have a pina colada,” Cuddy said.
“Christ,” House said, rolling his eyes. “I guess I will too.”
The young man brought back the drinks, which, yes, did include an umbrella and, incongruously, an orange slice on the rim. House took a sip.
“Good god this is sweet,” he said. “If Rachel drank one of these, we could turn her into an alcoholic in no time!”
“Shut up, I like it,” Cuddy said, sipping hers. He grinned at her.
Just then, none other than Peggy, the cruise director, materialized at their side.
“Do my eyes deceive me?” she said, with exaggerated shock.
“Is Dr. Gregory House actually lounging in the sun and sipping on a …fruity drink?”
She pulled a camera out of her pocket.
“Smile! I need to preserve this moment for our Big Wall of Regal Guests.”
“Take a picture of me and I’ll tell everyone at this resort that you had a cancerous mole removed from your upper right deltoid,” House hissed. “Not exactly the best advertisement for fun in the sun.”
Peggy put down the camera, shocked, and lightly touched the barely noticeable scar from where the mole had been removed. For a second, her cheerful mask dissolved, and then, just as quickly, it snapped back into place.
“I guess he still need a few more drinks in him, huh?” she said to Cuddy, winking broadly.
“Sorry,” Cuddy said. “I should make him wear a sign: Do Not Poke.”
“He’s a hoot!” Peggy said, unconvincingly, and moved onto the next guests.
“Now that was just mean,” Cuddy said, when she was out of earshot. “And there’s no way you could’ve known that mole was cancerous.”
“Her entire presence is like nails on a chalkboard to me,” House said. “And she’s the poster child for skin cancer. It was an educated guess.”
“You’re impossible,” she said.
“But you love it,” he replied.
She chuckled.
“Let’s go swimming,” she said. “You can do naughty things to me under the water.”
“Sweet.”
######
They took a nap when they got back to the room, both tired and slightly sunburnt, despite their diligence with the suntan lotion.
When they woke up, they had sex, and then watched a little TV.
“I’m famished,” House said, finally. “More cabin service?”
“Actually . . .” she made a slightly guilty face.
“Uh oh, I don’t like that look.”
“I ran into the captain’s wife at yoga and she invited me to sit at the captain’s table for dinner tonight.”
“That does sound wonderful. Unfortunately, I didn’t pack anything dressy. Not even a tie. Such a shame. I’m profoundly disappointed.”
“Nice try. I packed your tie. And a sports jacket.”
“I truly hate how organized you are,” he grumbled.
She pat him on the shoulder with feigned sympathy.
“You’re life is so hard,” she said.
“It is,” he pouted.
“It’ll be fun. She said her husband could take us inside the ship’s controls. He might even let you steer!”
“Oh goody!”
She sniffed a bit.
“I thought you’d like that.”
“I would have. When I was 12.”
“Well, what’s done is done. I already RSVP’d. They’re expecting us in”-she looked at the clock on the end table, and quickly climbed over him to get off the bed-“half an hour!”
#####
Dinner was in the Starfish Grill at a large round table that was slightly set off from the rest. There were about 4 couples at the table, including the captain and his wife.
“Oh my God, if you’re sitting here, who’s steering the ship!” House said, in mock horror.
“I have a whole crew that takes care of that,” the captain said, in a reassuring voice.
“He’s kidding,” Cuddy said.
They sat and ate, with House asking the captain a million questions about the Regal Cruise’s electro-hydraulic system. (Whenever House met someone who possessed more knowledge on a subject than he did-a rarity-his curiosity was insatiable.)
Meanwhile, this one annoying woman at the table named Dorothy kept insisting that she knew House and Cuddy, especially once she established that they were also from New Jersey.
“Earl, don’t they look familiar?” she said to her husband.
He looked up vaguely and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe.”
“I swear I know them,” she said. “Do you two ever go to line dancing at Bubba’s on Tuesdays?”
“Uh, no,” House said, glancing at his cane.
“Karaoke Night at the Lucky Lounge on Thursdays?”
“Negative.”
Then she looked at Cuddy, “Do you ever attend those Betty Vee Cosmetic parties?”
“No,” Cuddy said, finally getting a bit annoyed herself.
“What else can it be?” Dorothy said. “I know I’ve seen you! Where do you two work?”
House was about to tell her when Cuddy interrupted and said: “Actually, House is a filmmaker and I am his leading lady, his occasional co-star, and his muse.”
This got everyone’s attention.
“Filmmakers!” Dorothy said, vindicated. “That must be it. What kind of movies?”
House looked at Cuddy curiously.
“Specialty films,” she said.
“Would I know any of the titles?” Earl asked.
“Well, there’s, um, Four Weddings and a Foursome,” Cuddy said, as House nearly spit out his drink. “What else honey?”
“The, uh, Boner Identity?” he offered.
“Right,” Cuddy said. “And, of course, The Bigger Bang Theory.”
“You make…porno films?” Dorothy said, aghast.
“We prefer the term, erotic art films.”
Earl glared at her. “So that’s where you know these two from?”
“No!” Dorothy said. “I swear! I’ve never watched a porn film in my life.”
“Now that’s just sad,” House said.
“You’ve probably just seen us at the local Starbucks,” Cuddy said breezily, as she and House exchanged a sneaky grin.
After dinner, they did get to the visit the ship’s controls and the Captain, appreciative of House’s interest in his work, let him steer.
“If you want, you can even sound the horn,” the Captain said. “Everyone cover your ears.”
So House pulled the horn, which sounded like a giant, cacophonous fart resonating through the Atlantic Ocean.
“Coooool,” he said.
######
“You wonderful creature, you” House said, nuzzling Cuddy that night as they climbed into bed. “How did you come up with that porno thing?”
“It just popped into my head. I mean, that Dorothy woman would just not let it go.”
He smiled at her, but then his face grew pensive.
“What?” she said.
“It’s . . .nothing,” he said. “Forget it.”
“Okay, now you really have to tell me.”
He hesitated.
“I just. . .sometimes I think about the years we wasted. All that dancing around each other, never admitting our feelings. It could’ve been like this the whole time.”
“But it’s like this now,” she said, kissing him on the mouth. “That’s what counts.”
“Yeah,” he said.
“And I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said, and he began kissing her throat and breasts, his mouth migrating to her stomach and then between her thighs.
“Now let’s rehearse for our next blockbuster,” he whispered. “The Cunning Linguist.”
“Mmmmm,” she said, arching her back and moaning a bit as he began lapping at her. “Yes, lets.”
In the morning, they had sex again and ordered room service, which they ate, barefoot and in terry cloth robes, on the edge of the bed.
Then Cuddy began to pout.
“Check-out is in an hour,” she said. “Our vacation is officially over.”
“Not gonna lie,” House said. “It was too short.”
“It felt like the world’s shortest honeymoon,” she cracked.
“Our actual honeymoon will be much longer,” he said, putting his arm around her.
“Ha ha. I just got you say we’re going on a honeymoon,” she teased.
He looked at her, seriously.
“It’s customary right after the wedding, right? So what do you think. . .in the spring? Mont St. Michel?”
Her eyes widened.
“House, what are you talking about?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you got too much sun.”
“I’m serious. I love you. So much. You’re the only person on this godforsaken planet who could’ve made this weekend bearable, let alone fun. I wasted 20 years of my life not being with you and I’m done waiting. Lisa Cuddy, be my wife.”
As he was talking, she began to smile and then, at some point, the smile mixed with ridiculously happy tears.
“Oh my God, yes!” she said, hugging him with such force they fell back on the bed. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
######
Peggy was there to say goodbye to all the guests and, of course, couldn’t help but notice the dumb grin plastered on House’s face.
“Are you actually smiling?” she said. “Or is that just gas?”
“The thing is,” he said, still slightly dazed. “She said yes.”
“Wow!” Peggy said, now grinning herself. “I’ll be damned! Congratulations, you two!”
Then she turned to Cuddy: “Honey, I don’t know what you do to him. But keep on doing it.”
“Don’t worry,” Cuddy said knowingly. “I intend to.”
That evening, when they got back home, they dropped their heavy luggage to the ground with a sigh and House rapped his cane loudly on the floor.
“Land ho!” he said.
“Who you calling a ho?” she cracked.
He laughed, kissed the top of her head, and stretched.
“All this making-all-your-dreams-come-true stuff was exhausting. I need a nap,” he said. He cocked his head toward the room. “You coming?”
“I’ve got to to call Mom first.”
“Oh God, can’t that wait?”
“No.”
So she called Arlene to deliver the good news. They chatted, animatedly, for several minutes until Cuddy handed the phone to House.
“She wants to talk to you,” she said.
He rolled his eyes a bit, but took the phone.
“Don’t gloat,” he said to her.
“Moi? Gloat? Never!” Arlene said in a sing-song voice. “I just think we need to start planning my victory party. . . I mean, uh, your engagement party.”
THE END