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[emeraldeyes06]

Here's a Huddy fic I wrote, my very first!! It has taken me so long, but I wanted it to be close enough to perfect. I feel okay to post it now. :)

Title: Love is Touching Souls
Author: emeraldeyes06 
Pairing: House/Cuddy, with a brief mention of Wilson/Sam
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the show they star on (though I really wish I did at this point in time!) David Shore owns it all. I'm just borrowing them for this scenario and will return them when it's all done. :)
Song lyrics are copyright of Joni Mitchell.
Spoilers: 6x22 - 'Help Me'
Author's Note: This is my very first Huddy fic, and I thought long and hard about the plot of this fic, especially in the aftermath of 'Help Me', with the thought of Cuddy tending to House in a way that is similar to but completely contrasts the previous scene in the finale where she bandaged his shoulder. Now they have admitted their feelings, they've kissed, they're moving forward into a new relationship. That's what I've tried to do here, tried to give an example of how House and Cuddy explore their newfound intimacy, and tread the waters they have found themselves in.
I was completely focused on writing these amazing character right. I've read a lot of amazing stories with perfect characterisations and I hope I do House and Cuddy justice.
This is pure romance and fluff, which I think these two are entitled to a lot of! :) :)

So this is for all the Huddy fans who stuck with this couple all along, who never faltered in their support for them, and who are just an amazing group of creative, friendly people. I'm just so glad to be participating in this fandom. :)

I hope you all enjoy, and here's to Season 7!! :) :)

'I remember that time that you told me, you said
Love is touching souls
Surely you touched mine
'Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time.

Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine,
You taste so bitter and so sweet,
Oh, I could drink a case of you, darling,
Still I'd be on my feet,
I would still be on my feet...'

-- 'A Case of You', Joni Mitchell

Closer, closer, he needed her closer, was his constant mantra. She seemed to hear him, and pulled him to her until personal space was no longer relevant, her fingers scraping his hair, skimming the back of his neck, soothing and maddening simultaneously.

Clasping Cuddy's hand even tighter, House drank her in, savouring the scent of her, the taste of her. The touch of her hands and the warmth of her body, the way she held him and kissed him was more intoxicating than the sweetest wine.

He never wanted to stop. He couldn't stop. She felt too good, so real, so perfect. All he had ever dreamed of.

Dreamed of... The full meaning of those words hit him fully. He had dreamed of this once...

His heart twisted at the memories of the year before, when his heart had shattered into a million pieces, much like the broken mirror, when his world came crashing down around him. His breathing gave a slight hitch, and his kiss became more desperate, his hold on her nearly bruising as if she would slip through his fingers if he ever let go.

Cuddy felt the change in him, and she responded, riding the crest of the wave of emotion engulfing him. She felt the need to tell him that this was real, that there was no need to be afraid, but his breathing slowly calmed. She knew that her reassurance would be a double-edged sword; on one side he could snap at her for saying it was okay, and on the other he could slip into the darkness that had engulfed him once before. Instead, she conveyed all her emotion through her kiss and entwining of their fingers.

Standing in her office. His face full of confusion. His hand shaking as the empty pill-bottle fell to the floor. His eyes shut tight. His hand on her shoulder. His voice dead and lifeless. A single tear...

'No... I'm not okay...'

Cuddy cupped his face with her free hand, her touch gentle which didn't speak of concern, only caring. Even now she felt his pain of what he had endured. Tonight had seen him in hell again, trying to save a life. What she had witnessed in the pit when he spoke of his leg had broken her heart, and she knew that he had changed. He saw what had become of him in the aftermath of his infarction when he had kept his leg rather than amputating, ending up in the middle ground with pain as a constant companion.

When he got in the ambulance with Hannah, there was no time for words. Instead, they had shared a look that spoke volumes of what had just occured, the sacrifice made, a grim echo of years before, and what might have been. His cane was left hanging on the wall, a symbol of his anguish, an irrevocable piece of his identity.

The ambulance pulled away, and she was left alone, conflicted with doubt. The danger he had faced in the pit was a harsh reminder that she had nearly lost him. If she had married Lucas, she would lose him anyway, and she couldn't bear that.

She honestly had no idea what the future was going to bring with their relationship. They both carried baggage, they both bore scars of the past, but it was new, it was exciting to be taking this step. Who knew that hours before when they had their most hurtful argument, trading bitter words and stinging truths, that they would wind up here together...

His shoulder prodded at her in that moment, and she was forced to gently break the kiss.

"House," she said quietly against his mouth, but he didn't answer. He kissed her again, feather-light and tender, one leading into another making her head spin.

"Mmm... House... mmmm," she mumbled. Still he couldn't stop even if he tried. It had been too long, too many fantasies, too many obstacles they had to overcome. He was a man who had walked in the barren desert, dying of thirst and was now drinking from the heavenly oasis.

Raising their linked hands to beside her head and pinning her firmly, Cuddy's heart knocked loudly in her chest as he slowly sucked on her bottom lip, his left leg pressing insistently between her thighs. She wanted to let herself be swept away, but she wasn't about to risk his wound becoming infected.

"Oh... Greg..."

The sound of his first name made him stop. It had been so long since she had said it, and it gave him a strange thrill to hear his name on her lips.

He pulled back, his breathing that bit deeper, and still kept his hold on her hand. He stared at her, his face unreadable. He was disappointed that she was putting a stop to their kissing when he was enjoying it so much, but there was probably a good reason.

"Your shoulder," she said, releasing his hand and tracing the bandage to remind him. The wound had already bled through, and she was conscious of his need for attention. And not just the medical kind.

House followed her eyes, giving a tormented sigh and a small punch to the doorframe as if to say 'Why now?' Then he gave her a smile, and Cuddy's brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Playing doctor already? You move fast," he smirked, and she couldn't help but smile. He hadn't changed all that much, and a secret part of her was glad. He was healing, and that was all she wanted right now.  These last few hours he had proved to her in spades as just how much he had matured.

For a moment, they stood together in his bathroom, his hands on the doorframe at either side of her. She didn't feel trapped, rather enveloped by him. She watched out of the corners of her eyes as his hands slid down to the level of her hips, and he leaned back into her, lightly nuzzling his nose against hers. Her laugh was equal parts exasperated and genuine. Her grin faded when he kissed the corner of her mouth, brushing his mouth over hers lightly, his breath warm as he gently exhaled. She reacted to him nonetheless.

"You're trying to... distract me," she tried to say, silenced briefly by his kiss.

"Am not," he answered back, his left hand moving back up to settle in the curve of her waist, still plying her with small, teasing kisses. Cuddy twisted her fingers in the material of his shirt, and just as she was about to kiss him back, he lifted his head out of her reach. He raised his eyebrows teasingly.

"My shoulder, remember?" he said, not concealing his smugness. Cuddy dropped her head forward with a huff, landing on his chest as she covered her face with her hands.

"You're unbelievable," she groaned in exasperation, but it wasn't completely negative. She looked up and saw him looking down at her with amusement written on his face. Shaking her head, she cupped the back of his neck and pulled him down for a slow, soft kiss, releasing him before he became too eager. He wasn't the only one who could play hard to get.

She tugged on his hand. "Come on." He wordlessly aquiesced, knowing he could place himself in her hands willingly.

She led him to sit on the edge of the bath, glancing briefly at the shards of glass laying against the white porcelain. If she hadn't been here... she pushed the errant thought from her mind. She helped him out of his jacket, trying as best she could to save him from any more pain.

As gentle as Cuddy was, House hissed at the pain in his shoulder. Coupled with the throbbing in his leg that had persisted in the last hour, it was all he could do not to gasp out. The white pills laying on the floor flashed in the corner of his eye. The old addict, long since dormant, began to stir, the beginnings already of a potential relapse.

'No. Not now. Please don't let me screw this up...'

Cuddy's voice broke through the haze. "You got a first-aid kit?"

"In the closet," he said in a whisper.

Just as she was about to leave, he reached out to take hold of her hand again, to feel some sense of stability. He needed help, the cracks were beginning to appear.

His vision travelled up her arm to her face, and met a look he thought he'd never see. So long had they danced around each other, never taking the plunge, and too often he had seen anger, disbelief, weariness, coldness in her eyes, and now... He could hardly believe the way she was looking at him.

"I'm... I'm glad you're here," he said slowly, dropping his eyes when it became too much to bear. Cuddy smiled, giving his hand a tender squeeze. "Yeah."

Despite himself, House brought Cuddy's hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, turning his head to press her hand to his face. Cuddy took a breath to steady herself, twisting her hand so she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing him lightly. House shut his eyes as the emotion welled up in him again, like a balloon swelling in his chest.

"I'll get the kit," she said after a moment. He nodded, his eyes still closed, and let her hand go, watching after her as she walked out of the bathroom and down the hall. While she was gone, he absently rubbed at his thigh, turning the events of the last few minutes over and over in his mind, still questioning if it was all real. He didn't take the Vicodin, he didn't give in, she was here with him.

It could still be all a dream, his mind persisted. He could have passed out in the bathroom from pain and exhaustion. The moment she walked in could have been a figment of his imagination. She felt close enough to perfect...

A pair of shoes tumbled from the closet as Cuddy searched for the first-aid kit. He craned his neck to look down the hall at her, glimpsing one of her sneakers as she knelt down behind the door. He felt tempted to yell 'Mind my stuff!', just to instill a sense of the ordinary so he wouldn't feel so anxious and to escape the paranoid thought that this wasn't happening to him.

His lack of trust had always been an issue, but in the tumultuous events of that Vicodin-induced hallucination, break down and rehabilitation period in Mayfield, a reasonable person could see why he was so reluctant to believe that something good was happening to him, when hours before the woman he had attempted to pursue had told him she was getting married, that his two friends were moving on and he had nothing.

What Cuddy said at the crash-site was true. She and Wilson were moving on, finding connections that weren't with him. He knew she was being realistic, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt when she said it to him. He could almost accept it, if only Wilson and Cuddy weren't two of the most important people in his life. That was why he clung onto them so strongly. Anyone else who encroached upon their friendships as not acceptable in House's book.

Yet now he was slowly coming to the realisation that Wilson's love-life didn't have to eat into their friendship. House and Sam had played the game, much as he did before with Amber, but he saw that Wilson was genuinely happy, and there was nothing he could do about it. He remembered walking away down the hall to his room, their laughter echoing behind him, and he felt a severe pang of lonliness when the door shut behind him in his cold, empty room. Even through all that, he managed to feel glad for Wilson.

With Cuddy, he felt differently. He had tried to be happy for her, with Rachel and even Lucas coming into her life, giving her the family she had always wanted. He had meant it when he said she would have made a great mother. But watching her and Lucas together at the conference, after work from the balcony, in her office, he had felt nothing but hollowness. How could he be happy for her when he felt the way he did? How was it that he was trying so hard and not making a single iota of progress? Those questions had nipped had him even before his final session with Doctor Nolan. Up until saving Hannah, he had never believed in karma. Now...

Cuddy returned with kit in hand, snapping him out of his trance, and as she went about taking out tape, padding and antiseptic, he watched her, taking in every single detail like he never had before. Karma had finally paid him a visit and rewarded him...

Once he realised the mushy turn he was taking, he decided to snark a little. Besides, those scrubs were so becoming...

"Forget playing doctor, Nurse Cuddy has a better ring to it," he said lowly. She turned back to look at him with a smile and a laugh. "Well I'm not going to demote myself just to play up to your fantasy," she said, with a look that was playful yet firm.

He gave an shrug, and was about to say 'Your loss', but regretted it immediately as the pain returned. Cuddy switched to professional mode, and went to his side with the items in hand. She rested her fingers on his shoulder and he gave an exaggerated grimace.

"Oww!" he whined. Cuddy laughed again. "Don't be a spoiled brat," she admonished with a shake of her finger. With that momentary distraction, she set to her task.

While she rebandaged his shoulder, not a word was spoken. The silence stretched through the apartment, where only the their breathing and the ripping of tape could break through the noiseless recesses.

Cuddy tried to stay neutral, to think of this as nothing more than an aid for a patient, but since she had taken such a big step forward with House, it was difficult not to ignore the touches she was giving him, or feel a tug at her heart as she caught his eye. Even in his dishevelled state, he made her heart skip a beat.

"There," she said finally. House nodded, giving his shoulder an experimental roll. "Thanks."

A pause.

"Where's my lollipop?"

Cuddy let out a suffering groan coupled with a short laugh. "Bit late for candy, isn't it?"

House pouted. "It's never too late for candy. Now where is it?"

Tilting her head to one side, Cuddy placed her hands on her hips and dared to play with fire. "Would a kiss do instead?"

House looked up at the ceiling as if deep in contemplation. He gave a dramatic sigh. "I guess so," he said with indifference, but he was smiling.

Leaning down with a raised eyebrow, Cuddy reached his level and said, "With that attitude I could always change my mind."

House leaned forward, not even blinking. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" she said back. Even now they still returned to the thrill of the game, taunting each other. Now the rules had changed, the boundaries had become fluid, and there was even more to lose. A while back, Cuddy had become tired of playing games, had tired of the contant push and pull between them, that it was no longer fun. Even going as far to reject his gift of carnival tickets when he was doing something genuinely nice, she had to put distance between them. She was determined to banish her so called ability to 'thrive on conflict', as Don had succintly put it all those years ago, but try as she could, it wasn't happening. She was stuck, and it was time to move forward.

Time stretched on for a few seconds, before Cuddy said in a whisper, "Stubborn jerk" and kissed him, surprising herself as well as House. This unknown territory both thrilled and scared him, when he could touch, hold, or kiss Cuddy whenever he wanted to. Well, almost whenever he wanted to. Work would still play a part, as well as the team and Wilson. How would they react if they ever told them? He pushed

it from his mind. They could deal with all their committments tomorrow. Or the day after...

Cuddy lifted her fingers to his cheek, his stubble grazing her fingertips and causing electricity to spark through her. She vaguely felt his hand behind her back, pulling her closer. His groan against her mouth nearly melted her bones. His tongue glided across her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth to his explorations.

When they pulled apart for air, she rested her forehead against his, and when he opened his eyes, the tenderness she saw caused her to press her lips together to stop the emotion spilling over.

When she stroked his cheek again, more dust and grime came away from his face. She rubbed her fingers together with a frown.

"I'd better get you cleaned up," she said absently, looking to the sink. House didn't release his hold on her though, leaning in to whisper, "Sponge bath, please Nurse." She gave his uninjured shoulder a slap, and he winced theatrically.

"You're mean," he whimpered.

"Yes I am. You should know that from working for me. Normally I'd leap at the chance, but as you see..." She motioned to the bath-tub and the broken mirror.

House gave her a sheepish look and hung his head. "Foiled," he muttered.

Cuddy thought for a moment, then said, "I think I might have an alternative. Stay there." She retracted herself from his grip, shivering as his hand travelled down her back in a barely-there caress as she went across to the cabinet, kneeling down to open the doors and search. Sure enough, she found a bath-sponge and turned back to House, holding it up with a flourish.

"Yay," he said, giving her a wry round of applause.

"Hey, you were the one dying for a sponge bath," Cuddy remarked as she crossed to the sink and turned on the taps, letting the water dampen the sponge.

House scoffed. "I knew it was somewhere, no surprises there. Forgive me for not being impressed when you..."

"You can be taking your shirt off," Cuddy said over her shoulder, and that stopped him talking. 'Nice tactic,' he thought with a smirk.

Cuddy washed her hands and splashed some water in her face in an attempt to make herself feel cleaner. A shower would be a God-send right now, but it could wait.

Remembering his pain when he tried to take off his jacket, Cuddy turned, leaning back against the sink and asked gently, "Do you want me to help?" She bit her tongue at how hesitant she sounded, but who could blame her? House had shunned both her and Wilson's help on numerous occasions, but this wasn't drug-related or to do with his leg. She wasn't talking about rehab or clinic duty. He wasn't likely to refuse her help now after he had given her his hand to help him to his feet. She knew he hated feeling powerless, and she didn't want to fuss over him if he didn't want her to.

House had just begun to lift the hem of his shirt when Cuddy's question stopped him. He was caught between wanting to appear strong and wanting Cuddy to pull him through. He was never one to accept help willingly for any aspect of his life, be it his Vicodin abuse or his leg. But when he hadn't asked for help, when he didn't open up to those he cared for, he ended up in limbo: he ended up broken.

His hands dropped uselessly into his lap, and the floor suddenly appeared very interesting as his thoughts warred against each other, both outcomes seeming more and more hopeless.

Cuddy watched as House raged an inner struggle, and fought to keep her emotions in check. Whatever the outcome, she would accept it, but he had to trust her if this was ever going to work. And asking for help was the first step.

"I want this to work." House said it so quietly Cuddy has to strain to hear. "I want to be able to ask for help and not feel weak because of it." He thumped his fist quietly against the side of the bath-tub, angry at himself and this quandry he was lodged in.

Cuddy walked back to him, refraining from touching him just yet. Only when he was comfortable. They had come too far for this to dissolve into an argument. "House... it's just a shirt. I won't be taking over and running your life. You've been hurt, that's all. It's okay..."

The way she was speaking to him, how much she cared... House ducked his head and felt ashamed for feeling so bad, like he was giving over control to her. Admitting defeat.

A flash of the bitter memory of the hallucination, with the spectre of Amber taunting him...

'You're pathetic. If you want the pill, just send her home. But you can't, because that would be admitting defeat to her...'

He reached for the pill, giving in to the demons clawing at him. A giggle of triumph above him.

'Now this is interesting. If you take the pill, you don't deserve her. If you secretly take the pill... you don't deserve anyone.'

It had to stop.

House looked up at Cuddy. She was standing still, and she appeared to be calm. He could tell that his hesitance had hurt her. Like he had so many times before. He didn't want to hurt her anymore.

He gave a short nod, letting his hands fall idly to his sides. A weight lifted off his shoulders and he inhaled deeply, letting it out slowly.

The relief that flooded Cuddy didn't show on her face, but she certainly felt it. Helping him out of his shirt, she didn't ask if he was alright, for he refused to meet her eye. She suddenly felt like an intruder in his home, that he somehow resented her for helping him. Her fears were temporarily dispelled when he said "Thanks" quietly. She nodded, inhaling slowly to calm herself.

She retrieved the sponge, wringing out the excess water and went back to House, taking his right hand and wiping across his knuckles, moving down to his wrist and his forearm. She was careful with his shoulder, mindful of his injury, and moved as gently as she could. She kept a hold on his wrist, feeling his pulse strong and steady against her fingertips.

Throughout her ministrations, House kept his eyes on the floor, focusing on keeping his breathing even. He was finding it difficult to think straight with Cuddy tending to him like this. Bandaging his shoulder was one thing, but this was another story. It was more... intimate being washed like this by someone he felt so deeply for. His being shirtless made him feel exposed in front of her.

His heart thumped loudly in his ears as his desire for Cuddy surged anew, and he swallowed thickly, feeling nervous and aroused all at once.

She moved back up his arm, her motions slow, massaging him gently, almost reassuringly. When she squeezed the sponge to rinse the rest of the dirt off, the warm water ran down his arm and House's breathing hitched. He gripped Cuddy's hand that bit tighter, his eyes shutting at the pleasure and his overwhelming feelings for Cuddy.

Cuddy's cheeks coloured, her body reacting to him instinctively and she ceased her motions temporarily to steel her nerve again.

A solitary drop of water trickled down his chest and her mouth ran dry. She wanted to kiss the water off his skin, taste him, touch him. In a bid to quell her desire, Cuddy turned back to the sink to rinse the sponge and run more water.

Tucking a stray hair behind her ear, she took his left hand and began to wash him again, hoping House wouldn't notice she was trembling. She wiped away the dirt and dust that had clung to him from his struggles he had experienced with all the tenderness she had.

House wasn't sure how much more he could take of this. He wanted to hold her, kiss her so badly.

Cuddy made one last trip to the sink, and when she walked back to him, she moved between his legs, moving as close to him as she could. House stared down at her shoes and the legs of her pink scrubs. She sensed his reluctance, and knew she had to be careful. They had been on sure footing all along, but now she wasn't sure where the solid ground lay. Life was all about taking chances, and she had to take this with House.

She leaned down and grasped his chin, tilting his face up. Now he couldn't look away, couldn't turn away. He had nowhere to hide. He blinked to clear away the dust that had fallen into his eyes, because that was why he was tearing up all of a sudden. Having her so close, he was caught in her gaze, and she had never looked so beautiful to him.

Cuddy's eyes flicked back and forth over House's face, reacquainting herself with his features, taking in a face that was so familiar to her in the twenty years she had known him. He looked so vulnerable. Only once had she seen such a look, and the pain of seeing him so fragile threatened to resurface. She had to have courage for both of them.

Cuddy's thumb brushed his chin and his eyes closed as he exhaled a sigh. Who knew that such a simple touch would make him feel this way.

The sponge returned, wiping across his cheek, down his nose, to his other cheek, up to his forehead, moving so gently. The feeling of her hand on his face was a pleasant contrast to the slight roughness of the sponge. House didn't want it to end. He loved being like this with Cuddy, just the two of them without the intrusions of reality.

The more Cuddy washed him, the more he realised that he was coming clean after all the hurt and the terrors of before. He reached up so he could hold onto her wrist, touch her in any way he could.

Cuddy's breathing grew deeper as she watched how House was reacting to her. His touch on her wrist was warm, and he could probably feel her pulse fluttering.

Finally, she squeezed and poured the water over his hair, rinsing the last of the dirt away.

House gave a sigh as he leaned back, the water streaming down his face, his mouth, his neck, and his chest. His hand had moved from her arm to her back, holding on for dear life.

Cuddy's mouth dropped open with a barely concealed gasp at the vision House painted in front of her. When his eyes opened, she saw the desire reawakening, mirroring the arousal within her. His tongue darted out to lick the water from his lips...

She unceremoniously dropped the sponge into the bath and framed his face in her hands, bringing him close to her and brushing her lips across his mouth. He inhaled sharply as she surrounded him completely.

His arms now encircled her and held her to his chest. She felt the dampness of the water soaking through her scrubs and she pushed closer, craving this contact with him.

Her hands shook as she traced across his forehead, stroking down his face to caress his lips, gasping as his tongue swiped across her thumb. His hand moved down her back to her hip, and he helped move her so she was straddling his lap. Cuddy held onto his shoulders to steady herself, taking care not to hurt his leg, her knees balanced on the edge of the bath, squeezing his muscles as their foreheads pressed together.

"I need you." His voice was gravelly, and his eyes full of fire. Cuddy could barely speak, she was so overwhelmed by House and the feelings he stirred inside her.

In an impulsive move coupled with a sudden surge of emotion, House embraced Cuddy tightly, burying his face into the crook of her neck. Cuddy gave a breathless laugh as he nuzzled her neck, his stubble lightly grazing her skin.

"Stay... stay with me," he whispered, his voice cracking. Her hands were in his hair, massaging his scalp and he leaned immediately into her touch.

"I will," she answered. "I won't leave you."

House nodded, a lump forming in his throat. This was happening. She was real. This was real.

"I'm here... I'm here," she soothed, pressing her cheek into the top of his head.

House turned his face into her chest, drawing in a shaky breath.

"Lisa," he moaned.

Hearing him say her name, Cuddy's smile spread slow and large, her hold on him tender. She pulled back to look into his eyes, and she kissed his mouth softly, rocking into his lap, giving a moan of delight when his tongue darted out to taste her. His deep chuckle warmed her, and she smiled against his mouth, laughter bubbling up again.

Reaching up to her ponytail, House pulled the tie loose and ran his fingers through her hair, depositing an open-mouthed kiss to the base of her neck. He wound the strands around his fingers and gently tilted her head back. Cuddy gave no resistance, clasping her hands around his neck for balance.

"Good girl," he murmered, pressing kisses along her neck.

Cuddy's chest rose and fell with the harsh breaths she was taking. House's mouth was soft and hot and made her delirious. A brief bite soothed with the lick of his tongue, more soft kisses. She clung to the back of his head, murmering words of encouragement.

Working from vivid, intrinsic memory of the night they spent together years ago, House found a particularly sweet spot at the juncture of her neck and shoulder that he remembered rendered Cuddy senseless.

She nearly fell back as a moan wrenched itself from her throat. He held her firmly, still caressing her hair, his free hand travelling down to the small of her back.

In his arms, Cuddy relived those same memories. She remembered his hands, how they had caressed her and made her writhe in pleasure. How his mouth reduced her to a quivering mess. How they fit together and moved in perfect sync. How he had loved her that one night... when he gave her everything.

"Oh God... oh, oh, House..."

The sounds she was making, that he was responsible for her pleasure, made House feel almost ten feet tall. He tipped her head towards him again, kissing her hungrily. His hands tenderly massaged her back, longing to touch her soft skin. He could have happily continued to kiss her and touch her, but his ass was starting to become numb from sitting on the edge of the bath-tub.

"Maybe we should move to a more comfortable location," he rasped against her mouth. Cuddy nodded, thought reluctant to seperate her mouth from his, she knew that sitting on a hard surface wasn't any fun.

She gave him one last kiss, and stood on weak legs, her mouth swollen and her skin burning from his stubble. She wouldn't have traded this for anything.

House slowly stood up, facing Cuddy again much as they had before. He took a step closer, and she looked up at him silently. He watched her pulse at her neck, and his eyes drifted to her mouth, reddened from his kisses. He wanted to tell her how much he desired her...

"I..." The words caught in his throat. He had made this confession before. It was the unequivocal truth, but now this was real life, not a fantasy. How would she react when she was in the flesh before him?

Nothing ventured, nothing gained...

"I always want to kiss you," he said lowly, his heart giving a nervous lurch once he had said it.

Her reaction was better than he could have hoped.

Cuddy blushed, unable to tear her eyes away from him. She took a step closer.

"Then why don't you?" she asked alluringly.

It was all the invitation he needed to push her up against the door and kiss her with all the passion he felt for her. Cuddy kissed him back with equal fever, the feel of his bare skin under her hands tempting and arousing. His touches became even bolder, leaving trails of heat in their wake even through the material of her scrubs.

House bent down low as he kissed her, nearly lifting her off her feet. He wished he could lift her into his arms, wanting her legs wrapped around his waist, but his leg hindered him. Cuddy didn't seem to mind, her hand behind his neck keeping him in place.

They moved towards the door of his bedroom, and House dashed a hand out to the doorframe to keep his balance as Cuddy tugged at him insistently. A bite to his bottom lip and he was completely gone.

Jagged pants, the rustling of their clothes, and their footsteps on the timber floor echoed through the room.

They moved towards the bed, not stopping to draw a single breath, not seperating from each other for a single moment, twirling in a dizzy circle. In the back of his mind, House knew that they were both exhausted from the traumas of the previous eight hours, but that didn't stop him from indulging in Cuddy's kisses and loving how she felt in his arms.

This dance, a tango that smouldered and sparked and left them craving more, the intricate steps they had been practicing and perfecting all these years had increased in its tempo, much like the beating of his heart.

Cuddy felt her calves meet the end of the bed, and House's body colliding with her front nearly made her tumble back. House righted himself, and leaned Cuddy back so he could lay her down on the bed. He settled on top of her, kissing her deeply, cradling her head in his hands.

Cuddy finally allowed herself to be swept away by every touch and kiss House gave her, loving his solid weight covering her. She toed off her sneakers, and ran her foot up the back of House's leg, one hand stroking his bicep and the other clasped around his neck.

Despite moving as gingerly as he could, a sharp pain flashed in his leg and he tried smothering his pain-filled groan but to no avail. Cuddy broke the kiss immediately and her eyes flicked down to where House was massaging his thigh to make the pain stop.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath. Perfect time for his leg to kill the mood. He looked at Cuddy, and didn't see pity or concern. Just warmth and understanding.

"Just give me a second," he said, getting up off the bed and going to his bedside locker to retrieve his bottle of Ibuprofen. He dry-swallowed three pills, sitting back down heavily, breathing slow as he waited for the pain to subside.

Cuddy watched him in the dim light from her prone position on the bed. She saw the frustration on his face when his leg gave him trouble, and now she watched him relax as the Ibuprofen took effect.

Wanting to be close to him again, she moved up the bed to where he was sitting, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him an affectionate squeeze. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she felt House

press his cheek into her hair as he turned to look at her. Her palms stroked a lazy trail down his chest as she kissed his neck. House clenched the sheets at the pleasureable sensation.

Moving up to his ear, she playfully nipped his earlobe, laughing at his exclaimed 'Ha!' of surprise. Her laughter was music to his ears, and he always wanted to hear it.

Her voice, sultry and low in his ear, enticing him further, "Come to bed, House."

Who was he to say no?

He bent forward to take off his shoes, and turned back to her, putting his hands on her shoulders, rubbing her forearms, suddenly feeling nervous. It was college all over again, almost like they had come full circle. This time, the second time around, would be different, it would be harder. They had gone through so much, both individually and together. Others came, others went, and they had returned to each other. It was pure symmetry.

"Cuddy..." he faltered.

"Please, House," she whispered. "Put your hands on me."

She touched his face, looking into his eyes, a shiver going down her spine as House's right hand covered her left breast, over her hammering heart. This time, there was nothing disrespectful in his gesture. She laid her hand over his, and she felt him shaking.

When he leaned towards her like he had before, she felt no hesitation in his kiss. He was assured, confident, and focused on her. She felt his hand trailing down her neck, his fingers tugging on the material of her top, pushing it from her shoulders, all the while leaning her back as he kissed her, his hands strong and warm as he held her.

Goosebumps rose on her skin as he undressed her, taking his time to unveil her to his waiting eyes. The first glimpse of her black bra made him even more eager. His expression of wonder caused butterflies to flutter madly in her stomach, and she raised her hips so he could take off her pants and her socks, biting her lip as his fingers trailed down her legs.

Leaving her for only a moment, he stood at the end of the bed and unbuckled his jeans. He pulled them off, pushing down the feeling self consciousness. She had seen his scar before, so there was no big secret. He couldn't conceal his leg from Cuddy, and that made him feel even more exposed than before. He found solace in the way Cuddy was looking at him, and felt a bit more comfortable. He left his underwear on, not wanting to push his luck when they were both so tired.

When he crawled back up to her, he paused to skim her navel with his tongue, smiling as she started in surprise, arching her back.

She lifted her head, raising herself up onto her elbows and beckoned to him. She looked utterly desirable, with her hair tossed about her and her lips in a playful pout. He moved to lie beside her, reaching his hand down to grasp her leg and pull it over his. His gesture, romantic and sensual in itself, was enough to make tears prick her eyes. She feathered kisses over his face, holding him to her as he closed his eyes.

They shared another prolonged kiss, caressing each other and finding warmth in each other's bodies. This exquisitely slow exploration left them flushed and wanting in the anticipation of what was yet to come. They felt no need to rush things though. All these years of foreplay had been worth it to reach this point. A little longer wouldn't hurt.

Cuddy smiled against House's mouth, chuckling as he nuzzled her cheek and her nose. When he kissed her eyelids, she melted at his tenderness. This side of him was a joy to her, such a contrast to his arrogant, sarcastic side that she had become all too used to. He annoyed her, challenged her, matched her on every turn and drove her to distraction at work. Yet there were moments that his caring side showed through, and as rare as they were, deep down she knew that he had a good heart.  She accepted all of him, the good and the bad, the unblemished and the scarred.

House reached down to pull the covers over them, snuggling back into her and meeting her lips in a soft kiss. Shifting his right arm so it was pillowing Cuddy's head, he rested his head next to hers, stroking her upper arm and looking into her eyes.

Silence in the twilight, not a soul was awake. They lay together, just looking at each other. There was nothing else in the world was going on.

"I love you," she said quietly, dove-tailing their fingers together. She was fighting to stay awake, wanting to lose herself in his eyes, but the exhaustion was catching up on her. She was surrounded by heat and covers and House. It was comfortable and so relaxing, she could drift off without a moment's notice.

House looked down at their hands, then back up at Cuddy. He didn't reply right away. He kissed her again, knowing he could never take moments like these for granted. He planned to make every day with her count. Looking at her now, he felt his heart clenching with emotion.

Raising their clasped hands to his chest, he pressed his forehead to hers, and spoke from his heart, "I love you."

She smiled, holding his gaze for as long as she could before letting her eyes close, her love for him washing over her like a warm wave. She would never get enough of that feeling.

"Goodnight, House," she mumbled sleepily, laying her head on his chest, the thumping of his heart soothing her.

House stroked her hair, cradling her head and kissing her lips one last time. "Goodnight, Cuddy." His smile never left him, even when he fell asleep.

~ FIN ~