Fic: Apology, House/Cuddy/Thirteen, NC17
Title: Apology
Author: Lola lauriestein
Rating: NC17
Pairing: House/Cuddy/13
Words: ~5000
Prompt: written for cuddy_fest # 336. Cuddy/House/Thirteen. "You took advantage of me!" (Femslash, threesome.) NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing.
Summary: After the events of 5x09 "Last Resort", it occurs to Thirteen that Cuddy deserves an apology.
A/N: With many thanks to theonlymeyouget , januarynineteen and
little_missmimi for their beta, support and patience at various stages in this and other stories this month.
“I owe you an apology.”
The voice at her shoulder was familiar, but it took a second or two for Cuddy to place it. Her mental Rolodex flew into overdrive, competing with the haze of her fourth martini until a name occurred to her.
“Dr. Hadley, what are you doing here?”
Cuddy felt the shrug without turning to see it. The bartender caught her eye then motioned to her empty glass. A vague wave from her was enough to get number five on the way. The woman she couldn’t help but think of as Thirteen finally took the seat next to her and indicated that she would have the same. Cuddy noticed that she removed the olives with something approaching disgust when the drink arrived, though.
“So, about my apology.”
Cuddy sighed, every moment of stress in the past week pouring out with it. The police had finally relinquished claim to parts of her hospital, and the cleanup had begun in earnest, walls being rebuilt and security plans being reviewed. Her office was off-limits, and House would get a nasty surprise when he returned the next morning when he discovered her plan to take over his. He’d called out with ‘post-traumatic stress’ of course, knowing her world was too chaotic to miss him, that she didn’t have the energy to actively seek out further destruction by dragging him back.
Then there was Thirteen, having spent a week on dialysis and soaking up resources because she’d been on some suicide mission with a gun pointed at her head and a syringe in her hand. Cuddy had almost felt sympathy, noticing something of her own desire to step up to the plate in the ultimately futile gesture. Her guilt and weariness left her unable to dwell on the death sentence hanging over Thirteen’s head; unable to contemplate any more devastation in a month full of it. What did it matter, anyway, when everyone had lived and a sick man would be getting all future consults in a prison hospital?
“You don’t have to apologize, Dr. Hadley. I saw your chart this morning; you’re fine.”
What she wanted to say was somewhere between ‘why are you really here’ and ‘leave me alone’ but professionalism survived the avalanche of gin and vermouth, and she even conjured a weak smile from somewhere in the recesses of muscle memory.
Those pale eyes stared directly into her own, and it made Cuddy uncomfortable but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was rare to be looked at with such attention, and for a moment she flickered on the rumors she had heard about the nurses Thirteen had kissed and the varying gender each time.
She shook away the thought, spilling loose curls from her ponytail as she did so. Before she could tuck the errant strands behind her ear, cool fingers skimmed her cheek and did it for her. Cuddy froze at the unexpected contact.
“I really am sorry. If I worried you, if our actions endangered everyone more. I know House regrets that it got out of hand, I think he was done with guns long before this.”
Cuddy clicked her tongue dismissively, unwilling to believe House regretted anything that had resulted in a puzzle solved. She’d been worried about him trapped with a gunman, replaying frantic mental reels of his shooting and the ketamine and the heartbreak of two years ago.
The sensation of panic had long since abated, but if she thought too deeply about the hostages, about her fear, the tinny taste of adrenalin came flooding back in an instant. She’d had enough for one day, suddenly craving her quiet house and soft bed where she could fall into disjointed nightmares about exploding masonry and babies crying.
“Well, apology accepted. If you’ll excuse me, Dr. Hadley, I really should be getting home.”
Those cool fingers appeared again, this time taking a firm grip on her forearm.
“You’re too drunk to drive, Dr. Cuddy. Let me take you.”
There was no reason to accept: she had a taxi service on speed dial and a limited number of friends she could impose upon for a ride home. It all seemed a lot like more hard work, and so despite her reservations, she nodded her acquiescence. Slipping a few bills across the bar, she made peace with the night being over.
They drained their glasses with little enthusiasm, and when her feet made contact with the floor once more, Cuddy realized she was distinctly unsteady on her three-inch heels. Whether through anticipation or accident, Thirteen’s steadying arm linked with her own, and Cuddy accepted it with silent gratitude.
The Porsche was unexpected. Cuddy knew every salary in the hospital by heart, and none of the fellows was making anything in the Porsche buying range. The powers of observation that must have so impressed House didn’t miss Cuddy’s questioning raise of an eyebrow, and Thirteen answered the question without being asked.
“It was a gift. My father likes to spoil me. I think he hopes that driving a nice car will stop my brain from turning to Swiss cheese. How could I refuse?”
Cuddy blanched at the cold statement of fact. She knew that many terminal patients developed a sort of gallows humor about their condition, but it was jarring to hear from someone so young and outwardly healthy. She supposed she was losing her protective shield, eroded by too much paperwork and too few real patients. It wouldn’t do to get soft, not now.
She eased herself into the passenger seat, fumbling with the seatbelt and then her purse as she scrambled for a response.
“Your trial - it starts tomorrow? I’m not supposed to know, of course, but we can’t pretend you’re just another file number.”
Thirteen nodded as she fired up the engine. The radio was flicked on, Cuddy assumed as a diversionary tactic. Her car was still in the hospital parking lot, since the bar was only a few blocks away. She hoped she’d remember that in the morning, and not make herself late by forgetting to call a cab.
Soft rock filled the car, merging into something she thought she recognized as Bon Jovi. The local stations did have a soft spot for their local sons, but it didn’t fit with the image presented to her in the driving seat. Thirteen drove exactly as Cuddy had expected: on the barely sane side of reckless, supremely confident in her ability to handle the speed of the car.
It occurred to her that she hadn’t told Thirteen where she lived, but that didn’t seem to matter. Watching the blurred streetlights through the passenger window, Cuddy surmised that her private life was probably well-known to anyone who worked for House, and her address had probably seemed necessary information for the team, in case they needed to seek out any more of her underwear. She’d be pissed if she weren’t already so used to it. It would take pretty awful behavior now to tip her into the red.
The drive woke her up, cool wind whipping in through the slightly lowered windows. For the first time in too long, she felt like she was firing on all cylinders, buoyed by the temporary buzz of alcohol circulating in her system. All too soon the ride was over, the familiar sight of her own street disappointing her as it rolled into her line of vision.
Cuddy was reluctant to leave the car when it finally rolled to a stop. Her home seemed less than welcoming, she could already hear the echoes of her footsteps in the hall, only emptiness responding. She turned to thank Thirteen but the younger woman was already stepping out of the car, and by the time Cuddy thought to question why, her own door was being opened for her.
“In case you feel a little wobbly,” Thirteen offered by way of explanation, extending a helping hand with a carefully blank expression.
Cuddy wasn’t wild about being escorted home drunk by a subordinate, but the time for protesting had surely passed.
She stepped carefully onto her own garden path, struck by how strange the unfamiliar car looked in her driveway. A momentary stumble caused her to curse under her breath, and Thirteen’s steadying grip left them standing far too close to one another.
“Uh, thank you. I’ll be fine from here.”
Cuddy felt suddenly embarrassed, praying the security light would dazzle away the blush she felt rising in her cheeks.
“You’re welcome. It really wasn’t a problem.”
Awkward as she juggled her purse from one hand to the other, Cuddy stuck out her right hand to shake Thirteen’s. She realized just how close they were when her fingers made contact with the cold leather of Thirteen’s jacket. Thirteen grasped her hand loosely, then startled Cuddy altogether by pulling her forward and kissing her gracefully on the cheek.
It felt so warm, so unexpectedly affectionate that Cuddy’s knees almost buckled at the sensation. Thirteen withdrew only slightly, causing Cuddy to realize she was still holding her hand quite firmly.
There were so many moments in her life that she’d replayed time and time again, wondering if she might have acted differently, if there was a simple word or action that could have changed the course of events entirely. If overanalyzing made her a successful Administrator, it certainly made her frustrating in her personal life, having talked herself out of perfectly good ideas countless times..
None of which happened when she leaned back in to kiss Thirteen softly on the lips.
When she got no response, a tidal wave of panic, shame and rejection came flooding over her.
“Oh God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’ll go in now.”
A strong grip on her shoulder stopped Cuddy in her tracks.
“I like the idea, very much. I just figured you don’t want all your fancy neighbors getting an eyeful. Can I come inside?”
Relieved and confused in equal measure, Cuddy nodded. She concentrated carefully on her steps, though the worst of the alcohol was wearing off already. Nagging questions were exploding in her brain, not least of which was the one about why the hell she was kissing her female employee in the front garden. Hadn’t she gotten all of her experimenting out of her system at Michigan? Wasn’t her love life enough of a train-wreck with just one gender to completely misunderstand and alienate?
Those were all perfectly valid concerns, but Cuddy was too busy searching for her keys to give them much attention. When a kiss on the cheek made her feel like she’d die without another, it had officially been too long without human contact.
Sure, there had been that entirely random kiss shared with House a few weeks ago, and her lips still tingled faintly at the thought of it. But true to form, he’d run from her almost the second it ended and there had been no indication he wanted it to happen again. In the face of her indifference, she’d refused to consider her own feelings, not willing to make a fool of herself over yet another emotionally unavailable jerk.
With a calm she certainly didn’t feel, Cuddy opened her front door and stepped inside to the glow provided by her timer-activated accent lamp. Nobody else was ever there to do it for her, and coming home to a dark house was far too depressing.
Tonight though, her home was occupied.
“House? What are you doing here?”
The words felt familiar as they fell from her lips, and she realized she had already asked the same question not so very long ago. She was also acutely aware of Thirteen standing immediately behind her, personal space severely compromised.
“Thirteen said we had to apologize for scaring the crap out of you. The way she goes on you’d think I blew up your damn hospital.”
His explanation sounded hollow, the determination etched into his face very much at odds with the relaxed way he was leaning against the doorframe of her living room. Cuddy felt on edge, unsure how much House could pick up from her body language, and equally unsure of exactly what it might be telling him.
“Dr. Hadley and I were just going to have a… cup of coffee. She gave me a ride home.”
House nodded, as if the three of them found themselves in this situation every day. Though she was used to his housebreaking habits by now, her anxiety intensified, wondering how soon she could get rid of him; if Thirteen would leave, if Cuddy should ask her to. That damn gut feeling kicked in again, reminding her how good a little affection had felt, and the soft ache between her thighs suggested it wasn’t just platonic.
It didn’t seem at all safe to be thinking about sex with House around. Hadn’t she gotten really good at eliminating those thoughts from anywhere but the occasional late-night fantasy? When he spoke, she tried to banish every hint of arousal from her distinctly uncooperative body.
“Dr. Hadley came here with you because that’s what she wanted to do all along, and because that’s what I wanted too. We have a proposition for you.”
The martini effect was certainly fading, because it took only a second or two for Cuddy to piece together the vague allusions and meaningful looks.
“So either you brought me back here to kill me, which seems a little too elaborate, or what? You want to sleep with me?”
House made his patented ‘well, duh’ face in her direction. Cuddy had the distinct impression that the floor may well have been moving under her feet.
“Is this some kind of joke? Because I’m not in the mood.”
“No joke.” Thirteen’s voice was perfectly calm, as though they were discussing the clinic roster or something equally mundane. She moved from the open front door, brushing past Cuddy on her way to stand next to House.
“See, there are only three things we have any interest in: medicine, sex and drugs,” House explained, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re not sick, and we can barely get you to take an aspirin, never mind do a few lines of coke with us. So, this is what we can do to make it up to you. Besides, banging two chicks is hot. I won’t pretend I didn’t consider that when coming up with this plan.”
Cuddy had that ‘down the rabbit hole’ feeling that seemed to coincide with a lot of the conversations she had with House. The logic seemed perfectly sound to Cuddy - or at least would have, if she had been insane to start with. Thirteen spoke again, gentle persuasion laced through every syllable.
“Dr. Cuddy; Lisa - five minutes ago you were ready to jump me in front of the rose bushes. I think denying you’re attracted to House is an acting job that even Meryl Streep couldn’t pull off. We both think you’re hot, so why not?”
Were they actually serious? They were suggesting the appropriate way to process the trauma of nearly dying was a threesome? She’d heard some bullshit in the name of carpe diem but this was being presented so rationally, Cuddy couldn’t quite seem to get offended.
“Let’s try, ‘because I’m your boss’; or perhaps ‘because it’s insane’. Those sound like valid reasons to me.”
Thirteen fixed her with a stare that Cuddy did her best to remain unaffected by. She really was a stunning young woman, and it was hard to not think what kissing her properly would be like as she watched her mouth move. House was watching her intently as well, his apparent cool too convincing to be anything other than a front. He started to speak again, but Thirteen cut him off.
“Listen, the offer is right here, right now. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You say no, you change your mind, the whole thing stops. You’ve had a few drinks, but I think you know what you’d be getting into.”
Cuddy grasped frantically for an argument.
“You took advantage of me!”
Thirteen shook her head patiently.
“You made the moves on me, remember? Nothing has happened that you didn’t want.”
Thirteen stepped closer, dangerously close, and Cuddy could smell the musky overtones of her perfume all over again. This was the point where she should get angry, throw them both out of her house with the threat of punitive clinic hours ringing in their ears. Instead she found herself extending her arm and pushing the front door closed, the soft click deafening in the loaded silence of the hallway.
Cuddy looked up cautiously, unsure what she could say, what she should say to start this. Common sense had deserted her, the only pressing concern being that she not end another day crying into her pillow as her own hand brought her to an unsatisfying climax.
The need for words was removed as Thirteen stepped forward and kissed her. Really kissed her, nothing chaste or polite about the meeting of their mouths. As Thirteen’s tongue pressed cheekily for entrance, Cuddy parted her lips and heard House’s guttural moan of pleasure from somewhere off to the side, prompting a soft groan from her.
Her purse thudding to the floor, she sought to pull Thirteen even closer. With her other hand Cuddy beckoned blindly towards House, crooking a finger in his vague direction as she lost herself in the warm, insistent kiss.
He didn’t need to be told twice, and moments later Cuddy felt his hand on her hip as he leaned in to kiss the base of her neck. The roughness of his stubble and the bulk of his frame provided a delicious contrast to the willowy and soft woman in front of her, and Cuddy grasped at the other woman’s cotton shirt with something approaching delirium, her head swimming in a way that owed nothing to the night’s martinis.
Feeling suddenly bold, Cuddy began to push Thirteen’s jacket down over her arms, thrilled to hear it fall on the hardwood floor. House’s response was to yank Cuddy’s jacket off, pressing himself against her back and trailing haphazard kisses over the back of her neck as his fingers began a gentle massage of her shoulders, skimming her collarbone through her flimsy blouse.
It got harder to keep track of what was happening, four hands in constant motion over her body, buttons being undone, the zipper of Cuddy’s skirt sliding down and the material being shoved gently until it pooled around her ankles. Cuddy turned to capture House in a kiss, searching his eyes for any final signs of trickery before sucking forcefully on his bottom lip. Her hand sought out his growing erection through faded denim as she felt the clasp of her bra give way. She stroked him lightly as Thirteen’s fingers began to trace maddening patterns over the curves of her breasts.
As Thirteen finally turned her teasing hands to her nipples, Cuddy instinctively leaned back against her, and House’s appreciative gaze taking in her current state of semi-undress sent a wave of heat coursing through her. He pulled his t-shirt off with little ceremony, and when Thirteen paused to shed more of her own clothing, House stooped to capture a nipple with his mouth, causing Cuddy to yell softly at the sensation.
“Bedroom.”
It came out as a gasp, sentences already beyond her. It wasn’t going to be feasible to get much further in the hall, and she was already worrying about how House’s leg would hold up.
She lead the way, feeling both ridiculous and a little bit slutty, clad in only underwear, stilettos and a torn-open blouse. Careful not to look around and check on their progress, she found herself at a loss once she had crossed the threshold of her bedroom.
Thirteen had no such indecision, as soon as Cuddy clicked the lamp on to give the room a little light, the other woman made a beeline for her bedside table. When House made it into the room, having shed his sneakers and jeans somehow en route, he pressed up behind Cuddy in a way that left no doubt about the current state of his arousal.
“Dr. Hadley, what are you…”
Cuddy was interrupted by the explosive laughter of her two companions, and could feel it vibrating through House’s body and into her own as he had wrapped an arm casually around her waist.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for ‘Dr. Hadley’? Thirteen is fine; or Remy, if you really have to.”
Blushing furiously, Cuddy stepped away from House to see what Thirteen had retrieved from her most personal possessions. She gulped nervously when she saw the silk scarves she hadn’t used with anyone in a long time spread out on the comforter. Torn between protest and the jolt of pleasure that had just surged through her increasingly wet pussy, Cuddy found the point suddenly moot as House made his way onto the bed, sitting up by the headboard with a look of expectation plastered across his features.
Barely hesitating, Thirteen knelt on the bed and secured one of his wrists firmly to the headboard. When he motioned to his still free arm, she patted him playfully on the chest.
“We’re not doing all the work, House.”
He pouted a little, but the way he licked his lips betrayed both his nervousness and his excitement.
This most recent turn of events meant Cuddy was now the sole focus of Thirteen’s attention; it was terrifying and thrilling in equal measure.
She initiated the next kiss, passivity giving way to her natural confidence. Thirteen responded passionately, their tongues continuing the dance they had begun earlier. Cuddy reached to pull her hair loose from the band holding it up, then reached tentatively to tangle her hands in Thirteen’s glossy hair, stroking it as their kiss increased in intensity.
They stumbled into the side of the bed, Cuddy’s blouse and already unfastened bra discarded en route. Thirteen undid her own bra as Cuddy helped her to remove her jeans, pressing a kiss to Thirteen’s hipbone as she exposed it.
It was really happening.
Cuddy wasn’t sure which was weirder: that it was happening in the first place; or that she had no intention of stopping it. Then she turned to catch House staring intently at them, just as Thirteen’s fingers grazed one of her painfully erect nipples and every last attempt at rationalizing dissolved in an instant.
Then she was on her back, her head by the foot of the bed as Thirteen’s mouth ran wild over her body. The reason for House’s free hand became apparent as she felt soft moans escaping the other woman’s mouth, meaning his fingers must be hard at work. It only turned her on more, to think that the woman currently going down on her was being finger-fucked by the guy who had better be fucking her some time soon.
Not that she could think much beyond the sensation of Thirteen’s tongue as it swirled expertly over her pussy, tracing the lines and folds with a teasing pressure that drove her wild. She would flick lazily at Cuddy’s clit every so often, murmuring with pleasure when Cuddy bucked her hips towards her at the contact.
Hearing House’s breathing become heavier, Cuddy tilted her head forward and caught the intensity of those blue eyes as they raked over the bodies of the women beside him. She’d forgotten how much of a turn on it was to be watched, to see that raw need for her in someone else’s eyes. At that, Thirteen stepped up her pace, the consistent flicking of her tongue over Cuddy’s clit beginning to build up that familiar, delicious pressure that set every nerve ending in her body on high alert.
When Thirteen began to suck softly, it was a matter of moments before Cuddy went hurtling over the edge, profanities spilling from her mouth as she heard, and felt, Thirteen gasping desperately against her thigh. House clearly had succeeded in getting her off.
It didn’t take long to recover, and as Thirteen moved away from her legs, Cuddy curled herself across the bottom of the bed, her eyes trained on House. His knees were hitched up, his boxers straining with the very real fact of his erection.
Once more Thirteen took control, yet Cuddy’s inner control freak didn’t feel threatened at all. Kneeling in front of House, Thirteen eased his boxers off, and though Cuddy couldn’t see her face, she was sure that the younger woman was smirking at House’s terribly obvious attraction to them both.
Feeling left out, Cuddy crawled across the sheets to lie at House’s side, not quite touching him. At that, Thirteen leaned forward, her flat stomach carelessly grazing House’s cock which prompted a growl from him. Mindful of his injured thigh, she pressed herself against him and planted a soft kiss on his lips. He pushed up towards her, forcing a more meaningful kiss from her, and Cuddy watched in fascination. When they broke apart, Cuddy found herself hoping it was her turn next.
“Tastes good, doesn’t she?”
Thirteen’s whisper caught Cuddy by surprise, and when she saw House’s wicked smirk, she realized it was turning her on to have them comparing her like that. Emboldened, she reached across and began to fondle Thirteen’s smaller breasts, as House raised his hand to Cuddy’s mouth. Realizing what he intended, she sucked two of his fingers into her mouth, swirling her tongue along them in a distinctly suggestive way. She could taste Thirteen on his skin, tangy and slightly sweet.
A condom had already been snatched from the beside table along with the scarves. Cuddy heard the foil being ripped open as Thirteen arched under her hand. Their contact was broken as Thirteen shifted to roll the latex over House’s erection: tantalizingly slow, stroking firmly and deliberately. His hand grabbed her wrist suddenly, causing her to jump.
“Stop! I uh, might only have one shot and well…”
Thirteen shot Cuddy a knowing look, and moved gently over House’s right leg and out of the way. Confused, Cuddy looked at her for explanation.
“I think House is suggesting that he wants his ‘one shot’ to be with you, Lisa.”
“Oh.”
Cuddy had been intentionally careful up until now, twenty years of resisting House was a difficult habit to break. It made reality come creeping back just a little when she considered really, genuinely having sex with him and the world of complications that came with it. Still, the time to consider that had been somewhere near her front porch, not after the first round of orgasms.
With a smile of her own, Cuddy straddled House’s good thigh. He moaned as he felt how wet she was, prompting her to grind against him just a little bit, firing her own arousal back up another gear.
Shifting her position at last, she saw the anticipation on his face and felt it might just match her own. She bent over to kiss him, firmly, on the mouth, before taking his cock in her hand. As she sank down on to him, delighting in the fullness, he hissed her surname with something approaching reverence.
Not even this could make her ‘Lisa’ to him. Somehow, it was more intimate that way.
So caught up in House, in love and lust and history, she’d almost forgotten the gorgeous woman who’d provided her first climax of the evening. Thirteen announced her continued presence with a trail of fierce kisses down Cuddy’s neck, the oblivion perhaps noted and avenged with little nips and bites that might just have been a little petulant.
All was forgiven as Cuddy began to rock herself rhythmically up and down House’s shaft, Thirteen adapting her movements to capture Cuddy’s nipples with tongue and fingers in turn. House began to mutter a mantra of ‘fuck’ and ‘so close’, provoking Thirteen’s hand to trail lower, rubbing forcefully against Cuddy’s clit so that her climax followed swiftly after the roar that signified House’s release.
Sated, spent and ridiculously happy for the first time in so long, Cuddy allowed herself to slump against House’s warm body. Thirteen fell back against the pillows, stretching above her head to untie his wrist. With some mutual kicking of the sheets and wriggling, they managed to get comfortable side by side.
Cuddy supposed there ought to have been a conversation of some kind, but a tired silence enveloped the room, and she found herself drifting off almost immediately.
It seemed inevitable that it would be House she found herself pressed against as she drifted off to sleep, the breadth of his chest preferable to any pillow. There was no mistaking the soft pressure of Thirteen’s hand on her hip, but Cuddy didn’t have the energy to rearrange anything.
She woke in the morning to find Thirteen gone, the only evidence of her presence was the aspirin and a unopened bottle of water on the table. The thoughtfulness took Cuddy by surprise; House remained asleep, snoring softly into her pillows.
By the time she got up to shower and returned to the bedroom, her home was empty once more. She wondered for a brief moment if House had been feigning sleep, waiting for an opportunity to slip out.
Then again, it didn’t really matter.
In an hour or so, she’d be back at the hospital, waiting for him to show up and discover her office-sharing plan. Maybe now, with this one wild night between them out of the way, they could finally move forward.
Author: Lola lauriestein
Rating: NC17
Pairing: House/Cuddy/13
Words: ~5000
Prompt: written for cuddy_fest # 336. Cuddy/House/Thirteen. "You took advantage of me!" (Femslash, threesome.) NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing.
Summary: After the events of 5x09 "Last Resort", it occurs to Thirteen that Cuddy deserves an apology.
A/N: With many thanks to theonlymeyouget , januarynineteen and
little_missmimi for their beta, support and patience at various stages in this and other stories this month.
“I owe you an apology.”
The voice at her shoulder was familiar, but it took a second or two for Cuddy to place it. Her mental Rolodex flew into overdrive, competing with the haze of her fourth martini until a name occurred to her.
“Dr. Hadley, what are you doing here?”
Cuddy felt the shrug without turning to see it. The bartender caught her eye then motioned to her empty glass. A vague wave from her was enough to get number five on the way. The woman she couldn’t help but think of as Thirteen finally took the seat next to her and indicated that she would have the same. Cuddy noticed that she removed the olives with something approaching disgust when the drink arrived, though.
“So, about my apology.”
Cuddy sighed, every moment of stress in the past week pouring out with it. The police had finally relinquished claim to parts of her hospital, and the cleanup had begun in earnest, walls being rebuilt and security plans being reviewed. Her office was off-limits, and House would get a nasty surprise when he returned the next morning when he discovered her plan to take over his. He’d called out with ‘post-traumatic stress’ of course, knowing her world was too chaotic to miss him, that she didn’t have the energy to actively seek out further destruction by dragging him back.
Then there was Thirteen, having spent a week on dialysis and soaking up resources because she’d been on some suicide mission with a gun pointed at her head and a syringe in her hand. Cuddy had almost felt sympathy, noticing something of her own desire to step up to the plate in the ultimately futile gesture. Her guilt and weariness left her unable to dwell on the death sentence hanging over Thirteen’s head; unable to contemplate any more devastation in a month full of it. What did it matter, anyway, when everyone had lived and a sick man would be getting all future consults in a prison hospital?
“You don’t have to apologize, Dr. Hadley. I saw your chart this morning; you’re fine.”
What she wanted to say was somewhere between ‘why are you really here’ and ‘leave me alone’ but professionalism survived the avalanche of gin and vermouth, and she even conjured a weak smile from somewhere in the recesses of muscle memory.
Those pale eyes stared directly into her own, and it made Cuddy uncomfortable but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was rare to be looked at with such attention, and for a moment she flickered on the rumors she had heard about the nurses Thirteen had kissed and the varying gender each time.
She shook away the thought, spilling loose curls from her ponytail as she did so. Before she could tuck the errant strands behind her ear, cool fingers skimmed her cheek and did it for her. Cuddy froze at the unexpected contact.
“I really am sorry. If I worried you, if our actions endangered everyone more. I know House regrets that it got out of hand, I think he was done with guns long before this.”
Cuddy clicked her tongue dismissively, unwilling to believe House regretted anything that had resulted in a puzzle solved. She’d been worried about him trapped with a gunman, replaying frantic mental reels of his shooting and the ketamine and the heartbreak of two years ago.
The sensation of panic had long since abated, but if she thought too deeply about the hostages, about her fear, the tinny taste of adrenalin came flooding back in an instant. She’d had enough for one day, suddenly craving her quiet house and soft bed where she could fall into disjointed nightmares about exploding masonry and babies crying.
“Well, apology accepted. If you’ll excuse me, Dr. Hadley, I really should be getting home.”
Those cool fingers appeared again, this time taking a firm grip on her forearm.
“You’re too drunk to drive, Dr. Cuddy. Let me take you.”
There was no reason to accept: she had a taxi service on speed dial and a limited number of friends she could impose upon for a ride home. It all seemed a lot like more hard work, and so despite her reservations, she nodded her acquiescence. Slipping a few bills across the bar, she made peace with the night being over.
They drained their glasses with little enthusiasm, and when her feet made contact with the floor once more, Cuddy realized she was distinctly unsteady on her three-inch heels. Whether through anticipation or accident, Thirteen’s steadying arm linked with her own, and Cuddy accepted it with silent gratitude.
The Porsche was unexpected. Cuddy knew every salary in the hospital by heart, and none of the fellows was making anything in the Porsche buying range. The powers of observation that must have so impressed House didn’t miss Cuddy’s questioning raise of an eyebrow, and Thirteen answered the question without being asked.
“It was a gift. My father likes to spoil me. I think he hopes that driving a nice car will stop my brain from turning to Swiss cheese. How could I refuse?”
Cuddy blanched at the cold statement of fact. She knew that many terminal patients developed a sort of gallows humor about their condition, but it was jarring to hear from someone so young and outwardly healthy. She supposed she was losing her protective shield, eroded by too much paperwork and too few real patients. It wouldn’t do to get soft, not now.
She eased herself into the passenger seat, fumbling with the seatbelt and then her purse as she scrambled for a response.
“Your trial - it starts tomorrow? I’m not supposed to know, of course, but we can’t pretend you’re just another file number.”
Thirteen nodded as she fired up the engine. The radio was flicked on, Cuddy assumed as a diversionary tactic. Her car was still in the hospital parking lot, since the bar was only a few blocks away. She hoped she’d remember that in the morning, and not make herself late by forgetting to call a cab.
Soft rock filled the car, merging into something she thought she recognized as Bon Jovi. The local stations did have a soft spot for their local sons, but it didn’t fit with the image presented to her in the driving seat. Thirteen drove exactly as Cuddy had expected: on the barely sane side of reckless, supremely confident in her ability to handle the speed of the car.
It occurred to her that she hadn’t told Thirteen where she lived, but that didn’t seem to matter. Watching the blurred streetlights through the passenger window, Cuddy surmised that her private life was probably well-known to anyone who worked for House, and her address had probably seemed necessary information for the team, in case they needed to seek out any more of her underwear. She’d be pissed if she weren’t already so used to it. It would take pretty awful behavior now to tip her into the red.
The drive woke her up, cool wind whipping in through the slightly lowered windows. For the first time in too long, she felt like she was firing on all cylinders, buoyed by the temporary buzz of alcohol circulating in her system. All too soon the ride was over, the familiar sight of her own street disappointing her as it rolled into her line of vision.
Cuddy was reluctant to leave the car when it finally rolled to a stop. Her home seemed less than welcoming, she could already hear the echoes of her footsteps in the hall, only emptiness responding. She turned to thank Thirteen but the younger woman was already stepping out of the car, and by the time Cuddy thought to question why, her own door was being opened for her.
“In case you feel a little wobbly,” Thirteen offered by way of explanation, extending a helping hand with a carefully blank expression.
Cuddy wasn’t wild about being escorted home drunk by a subordinate, but the time for protesting had surely passed.
She stepped carefully onto her own garden path, struck by how strange the unfamiliar car looked in her driveway. A momentary stumble caused her to curse under her breath, and Thirteen’s steadying grip left them standing far too close to one another.
“Uh, thank you. I’ll be fine from here.”
Cuddy felt suddenly embarrassed, praying the security light would dazzle away the blush she felt rising in her cheeks.
“You’re welcome. It really wasn’t a problem.”
Awkward as she juggled her purse from one hand to the other, Cuddy stuck out her right hand to shake Thirteen’s. She realized just how close they were when her fingers made contact with the cold leather of Thirteen’s jacket. Thirteen grasped her hand loosely, then startled Cuddy altogether by pulling her forward and kissing her gracefully on the cheek.
It felt so warm, so unexpectedly affectionate that Cuddy’s knees almost buckled at the sensation. Thirteen withdrew only slightly, causing Cuddy to realize she was still holding her hand quite firmly.
There were so many moments in her life that she’d replayed time and time again, wondering if she might have acted differently, if there was a simple word or action that could have changed the course of events entirely. If overanalyzing made her a successful Administrator, it certainly made her frustrating in her personal life, having talked herself out of perfectly good ideas countless times..
None of which happened when she leaned back in to kiss Thirteen softly on the lips.
When she got no response, a tidal wave of panic, shame and rejection came flooding over her.
“Oh God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’ll go in now.”
A strong grip on her shoulder stopped Cuddy in her tracks.
“I like the idea, very much. I just figured you don’t want all your fancy neighbors getting an eyeful. Can I come inside?”
Relieved and confused in equal measure, Cuddy nodded. She concentrated carefully on her steps, though the worst of the alcohol was wearing off already. Nagging questions were exploding in her brain, not least of which was the one about why the hell she was kissing her female employee in the front garden. Hadn’t she gotten all of her experimenting out of her system at Michigan? Wasn’t her love life enough of a train-wreck with just one gender to completely misunderstand and alienate?
Those were all perfectly valid concerns, but Cuddy was too busy searching for her keys to give them much attention. When a kiss on the cheek made her feel like she’d die without another, it had officially been too long without human contact.
Sure, there had been that entirely random kiss shared with House a few weeks ago, and her lips still tingled faintly at the thought of it. But true to form, he’d run from her almost the second it ended and there had been no indication he wanted it to happen again. In the face of her indifference, she’d refused to consider her own feelings, not willing to make a fool of herself over yet another emotionally unavailable jerk.
With a calm she certainly didn’t feel, Cuddy opened her front door and stepped inside to the glow provided by her timer-activated accent lamp. Nobody else was ever there to do it for her, and coming home to a dark house was far too depressing.
Tonight though, her home was occupied.
“House? What are you doing here?”
The words felt familiar as they fell from her lips, and she realized she had already asked the same question not so very long ago. She was also acutely aware of Thirteen standing immediately behind her, personal space severely compromised.
“Thirteen said we had to apologize for scaring the crap out of you. The way she goes on you’d think I blew up your damn hospital.”
His explanation sounded hollow, the determination etched into his face very much at odds with the relaxed way he was leaning against the doorframe of her living room. Cuddy felt on edge, unsure how much House could pick up from her body language, and equally unsure of exactly what it might be telling him.
“Dr. Hadley and I were just going to have a… cup of coffee. She gave me a ride home.”
House nodded, as if the three of them found themselves in this situation every day. Though she was used to his housebreaking habits by now, her anxiety intensified, wondering how soon she could get rid of him; if Thirteen would leave, if Cuddy should ask her to. That damn gut feeling kicked in again, reminding her how good a little affection had felt, and the soft ache between her thighs suggested it wasn’t just platonic.
It didn’t seem at all safe to be thinking about sex with House around. Hadn’t she gotten really good at eliminating those thoughts from anywhere but the occasional late-night fantasy? When he spoke, she tried to banish every hint of arousal from her distinctly uncooperative body.
“Dr. Hadley came here with you because that’s what she wanted to do all along, and because that’s what I wanted too. We have a proposition for you.”
The martini effect was certainly fading, because it took only a second or two for Cuddy to piece together the vague allusions and meaningful looks.
“So either you brought me back here to kill me, which seems a little too elaborate, or what? You want to sleep with me?”
House made his patented ‘well, duh’ face in her direction. Cuddy had the distinct impression that the floor may well have been moving under her feet.
“Is this some kind of joke? Because I’m not in the mood.”
“No joke.” Thirteen’s voice was perfectly calm, as though they were discussing the clinic roster or something equally mundane. She moved from the open front door, brushing past Cuddy on her way to stand next to House.
“See, there are only three things we have any interest in: medicine, sex and drugs,” House explained, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re not sick, and we can barely get you to take an aspirin, never mind do a few lines of coke with us. So, this is what we can do to make it up to you. Besides, banging two chicks is hot. I won’t pretend I didn’t consider that when coming up with this plan.”
Cuddy had that ‘down the rabbit hole’ feeling that seemed to coincide with a lot of the conversations she had with House. The logic seemed perfectly sound to Cuddy - or at least would have, if she had been insane to start with. Thirteen spoke again, gentle persuasion laced through every syllable.
“Dr. Cuddy; Lisa - five minutes ago you were ready to jump me in front of the rose bushes. I think denying you’re attracted to House is an acting job that even Meryl Streep couldn’t pull off. We both think you’re hot, so why not?”
Were they actually serious? They were suggesting the appropriate way to process the trauma of nearly dying was a threesome? She’d heard some bullshit in the name of carpe diem but this was being presented so rationally, Cuddy couldn’t quite seem to get offended.
“Let’s try, ‘because I’m your boss’; or perhaps ‘because it’s insane’. Those sound like valid reasons to me.”
Thirteen fixed her with a stare that Cuddy did her best to remain unaffected by. She really was a stunning young woman, and it was hard to not think what kissing her properly would be like as she watched her mouth move. House was watching her intently as well, his apparent cool too convincing to be anything other than a front. He started to speak again, but Thirteen cut him off.
“Listen, the offer is right here, right now. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You say no, you change your mind, the whole thing stops. You’ve had a few drinks, but I think you know what you’d be getting into.”
Cuddy grasped frantically for an argument.
“You took advantage of me!”
Thirteen shook her head patiently.
“You made the moves on me, remember? Nothing has happened that you didn’t want.”
Thirteen stepped closer, dangerously close, and Cuddy could smell the musky overtones of her perfume all over again. This was the point where she should get angry, throw them both out of her house with the threat of punitive clinic hours ringing in their ears. Instead she found herself extending her arm and pushing the front door closed, the soft click deafening in the loaded silence of the hallway.
Cuddy looked up cautiously, unsure what she could say, what she should say to start this. Common sense had deserted her, the only pressing concern being that she not end another day crying into her pillow as her own hand brought her to an unsatisfying climax.
The need for words was removed as Thirteen stepped forward and kissed her. Really kissed her, nothing chaste or polite about the meeting of their mouths. As Thirteen’s tongue pressed cheekily for entrance, Cuddy parted her lips and heard House’s guttural moan of pleasure from somewhere off to the side, prompting a soft groan from her.
Her purse thudding to the floor, she sought to pull Thirteen even closer. With her other hand Cuddy beckoned blindly towards House, crooking a finger in his vague direction as she lost herself in the warm, insistent kiss.
He didn’t need to be told twice, and moments later Cuddy felt his hand on her hip as he leaned in to kiss the base of her neck. The roughness of his stubble and the bulk of his frame provided a delicious contrast to the willowy and soft woman in front of her, and Cuddy grasped at the other woman’s cotton shirt with something approaching delirium, her head swimming in a way that owed nothing to the night’s martinis.
Feeling suddenly bold, Cuddy began to push Thirteen’s jacket down over her arms, thrilled to hear it fall on the hardwood floor. House’s response was to yank Cuddy’s jacket off, pressing himself against her back and trailing haphazard kisses over the back of her neck as his fingers began a gentle massage of her shoulders, skimming her collarbone through her flimsy blouse.
It got harder to keep track of what was happening, four hands in constant motion over her body, buttons being undone, the zipper of Cuddy’s skirt sliding down and the material being shoved gently until it pooled around her ankles. Cuddy turned to capture House in a kiss, searching his eyes for any final signs of trickery before sucking forcefully on his bottom lip. Her hand sought out his growing erection through faded denim as she felt the clasp of her bra give way. She stroked him lightly as Thirteen’s fingers began to trace maddening patterns over the curves of her breasts.
As Thirteen finally turned her teasing hands to her nipples, Cuddy instinctively leaned back against her, and House’s appreciative gaze taking in her current state of semi-undress sent a wave of heat coursing through her. He pulled his t-shirt off with little ceremony, and when Thirteen paused to shed more of her own clothing, House stooped to capture a nipple with his mouth, causing Cuddy to yell softly at the sensation.
“Bedroom.”
It came out as a gasp, sentences already beyond her. It wasn’t going to be feasible to get much further in the hall, and she was already worrying about how House’s leg would hold up.
She lead the way, feeling both ridiculous and a little bit slutty, clad in only underwear, stilettos and a torn-open blouse. Careful not to look around and check on their progress, she found herself at a loss once she had crossed the threshold of her bedroom.
Thirteen had no such indecision, as soon as Cuddy clicked the lamp on to give the room a little light, the other woman made a beeline for her bedside table. When House made it into the room, having shed his sneakers and jeans somehow en route, he pressed up behind Cuddy in a way that left no doubt about the current state of his arousal.
“Dr. Hadley, what are you…”
Cuddy was interrupted by the explosive laughter of her two companions, and could feel it vibrating through House’s body and into her own as he had wrapped an arm casually around her waist.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for ‘Dr. Hadley’? Thirteen is fine; or Remy, if you really have to.”
Blushing furiously, Cuddy stepped away from House to see what Thirteen had retrieved from her most personal possessions. She gulped nervously when she saw the silk scarves she hadn’t used with anyone in a long time spread out on the comforter. Torn between protest and the jolt of pleasure that had just surged through her increasingly wet pussy, Cuddy found the point suddenly moot as House made his way onto the bed, sitting up by the headboard with a look of expectation plastered across his features.
Barely hesitating, Thirteen knelt on the bed and secured one of his wrists firmly to the headboard. When he motioned to his still free arm, she patted him playfully on the chest.
“We’re not doing all the work, House.”
He pouted a little, but the way he licked his lips betrayed both his nervousness and his excitement.
This most recent turn of events meant Cuddy was now the sole focus of Thirteen’s attention; it was terrifying and thrilling in equal measure.
She initiated the next kiss, passivity giving way to her natural confidence. Thirteen responded passionately, their tongues continuing the dance they had begun earlier. Cuddy reached to pull her hair loose from the band holding it up, then reached tentatively to tangle her hands in Thirteen’s glossy hair, stroking it as their kiss increased in intensity.
They stumbled into the side of the bed, Cuddy’s blouse and already unfastened bra discarded en route. Thirteen undid her own bra as Cuddy helped her to remove her jeans, pressing a kiss to Thirteen’s hipbone as she exposed it.
It was really happening.
Cuddy wasn’t sure which was weirder: that it was happening in the first place; or that she had no intention of stopping it. Then she turned to catch House staring intently at them, just as Thirteen’s fingers grazed one of her painfully erect nipples and every last attempt at rationalizing dissolved in an instant.
Then she was on her back, her head by the foot of the bed as Thirteen’s mouth ran wild over her body. The reason for House’s free hand became apparent as she felt soft moans escaping the other woman’s mouth, meaning his fingers must be hard at work. It only turned her on more, to think that the woman currently going down on her was being finger-fucked by the guy who had better be fucking her some time soon.
Not that she could think much beyond the sensation of Thirteen’s tongue as it swirled expertly over her pussy, tracing the lines and folds with a teasing pressure that drove her wild. She would flick lazily at Cuddy’s clit every so often, murmuring with pleasure when Cuddy bucked her hips towards her at the contact.
Hearing House’s breathing become heavier, Cuddy tilted her head forward and caught the intensity of those blue eyes as they raked over the bodies of the women beside him. She’d forgotten how much of a turn on it was to be watched, to see that raw need for her in someone else’s eyes. At that, Thirteen stepped up her pace, the consistent flicking of her tongue over Cuddy’s clit beginning to build up that familiar, delicious pressure that set every nerve ending in her body on high alert.
When Thirteen began to suck softly, it was a matter of moments before Cuddy went hurtling over the edge, profanities spilling from her mouth as she heard, and felt, Thirteen gasping desperately against her thigh. House clearly had succeeded in getting her off.
It didn’t take long to recover, and as Thirteen moved away from her legs, Cuddy curled herself across the bottom of the bed, her eyes trained on House. His knees were hitched up, his boxers straining with the very real fact of his erection.
Once more Thirteen took control, yet Cuddy’s inner control freak didn’t feel threatened at all. Kneeling in front of House, Thirteen eased his boxers off, and though Cuddy couldn’t see her face, she was sure that the younger woman was smirking at House’s terribly obvious attraction to them both.
Feeling left out, Cuddy crawled across the sheets to lie at House’s side, not quite touching him. At that, Thirteen leaned forward, her flat stomach carelessly grazing House’s cock which prompted a growl from him. Mindful of his injured thigh, she pressed herself against him and planted a soft kiss on his lips. He pushed up towards her, forcing a more meaningful kiss from her, and Cuddy watched in fascination. When they broke apart, Cuddy found herself hoping it was her turn next.
“Tastes good, doesn’t she?”
Thirteen’s whisper caught Cuddy by surprise, and when she saw House’s wicked smirk, she realized it was turning her on to have them comparing her like that. Emboldened, she reached across and began to fondle Thirteen’s smaller breasts, as House raised his hand to Cuddy’s mouth. Realizing what he intended, she sucked two of his fingers into her mouth, swirling her tongue along them in a distinctly suggestive way. She could taste Thirteen on his skin, tangy and slightly sweet.
A condom had already been snatched from the beside table along with the scarves. Cuddy heard the foil being ripped open as Thirteen arched under her hand. Their contact was broken as Thirteen shifted to roll the latex over House’s erection: tantalizingly slow, stroking firmly and deliberately. His hand grabbed her wrist suddenly, causing her to jump.
“Stop! I uh, might only have one shot and well…”
Thirteen shot Cuddy a knowing look, and moved gently over House’s right leg and out of the way. Confused, Cuddy looked at her for explanation.
“I think House is suggesting that he wants his ‘one shot’ to be with you, Lisa.”
“Oh.”
Cuddy had been intentionally careful up until now, twenty years of resisting House was a difficult habit to break. It made reality come creeping back just a little when she considered really, genuinely having sex with him and the world of complications that came with it. Still, the time to consider that had been somewhere near her front porch, not after the first round of orgasms.
With a smile of her own, Cuddy straddled House’s good thigh. He moaned as he felt how wet she was, prompting her to grind against him just a little bit, firing her own arousal back up another gear.
Shifting her position at last, she saw the anticipation on his face and felt it might just match her own. She bent over to kiss him, firmly, on the mouth, before taking his cock in her hand. As she sank down on to him, delighting in the fullness, he hissed her surname with something approaching reverence.
Not even this could make her ‘Lisa’ to him. Somehow, it was more intimate that way.
So caught up in House, in love and lust and history, she’d almost forgotten the gorgeous woman who’d provided her first climax of the evening. Thirteen announced her continued presence with a trail of fierce kisses down Cuddy’s neck, the oblivion perhaps noted and avenged with little nips and bites that might just have been a little petulant.
All was forgiven as Cuddy began to rock herself rhythmically up and down House’s shaft, Thirteen adapting her movements to capture Cuddy’s nipples with tongue and fingers in turn. House began to mutter a mantra of ‘fuck’ and ‘so close’, provoking Thirteen’s hand to trail lower, rubbing forcefully against Cuddy’s clit so that her climax followed swiftly after the roar that signified House’s release.
Sated, spent and ridiculously happy for the first time in so long, Cuddy allowed herself to slump against House’s warm body. Thirteen fell back against the pillows, stretching above her head to untie his wrist. With some mutual kicking of the sheets and wriggling, they managed to get comfortable side by side.
Cuddy supposed there ought to have been a conversation of some kind, but a tired silence enveloped the room, and she found herself drifting off almost immediately.
It seemed inevitable that it would be House she found herself pressed against as she drifted off to sleep, the breadth of his chest preferable to any pillow. There was no mistaking the soft pressure of Thirteen’s hand on her hip, but Cuddy didn’t have the energy to rearrange anything.
She woke in the morning to find Thirteen gone, the only evidence of her presence was the aspirin and a unopened bottle of water on the table. The thoughtfulness took Cuddy by surprise; House remained asleep, snoring softly into her pillows.
By the time she got up to shower and returned to the bedroom, her home was empty once more. She wondered for a brief moment if House had been feigning sleep, waiting for an opportunity to slip out.
Then again, it didn’t really matter.
In an hour or so, she’d be back at the hospital, waiting for him to show up and discover her office-sharing plan. Maybe now, with this one wild night between them out of the way, they could finally move forward.