Chapter Five
Cuddy looked at herself in the mirror on the back of the bedroom door, fretting. Turning this way and that, she kept checking, feeling an odd mix of exasperation and delight.
House barged in, stopping in appreciation as he caught sight of her standing there. “Bikini. Yessss. Love the blue—it brings out your Ta-tas beautifully.”
“It’s . . . too big,” Cuddy blurted, still unable to accept the fact.
House eyed her critically, the corner of his mouth still smirking a bit. “Not by where I’m looking.”
“No, it is—the top, the butt, the whole thing---“ she muttered, distracted as she tied the strings on one hip and then the other. “This isn’t . . . possible.”
“Breastfeeding means your caloric intake is down and your caloric expenditure is up,” House rolled his eyes. “Not impossible that you’ve dropped a pound or two in the process, She-Beast. Come on, I want to stake out a good spot today, and get in my two beer allotment.”
“Hold your horses!” Cuddy snapped, but House reached out with his cane and rapped her bare ankle.
“Move it, move it—“ he ordered. “The Demon Spawn is behind on her daily sand intake.”
“Greg!”
Within the hour they were comfortably parked again on the beach; establishing a routine, clearly. House managed to get the umbrella up and himself into the canvas sling chair quickly. He took Lily into his lap and spoke to her softly. “Look your cutest for the seventeen to twenty two year-old age bracket and I’ll slip you a fiver. Get’em to bend over and there’s another ten in it—“
“Grrrrregory—“ Marlena warned sternly. “She’s too young for brrribes.”
“So I can save money. Sweet,” he murmured, shifting back in the chair and propping Lily up. Marlena and Cuddy exchanged an indulgent glance, both perfectly aware of how comfortable House now was with a baby on his lap.
Changes. Small but significant.
Cuddy hesitated in stripping off her shorts, but the warmth of the day and relative emptiness of the beach won her over, and she folded her clothes neatly, then sat cross-legged on the blanket under the umbrella and gave a contented sigh. In front of them the Pacific stretched out, blue and beautiful, light glittering on it, and waves curling in postcard perfection to crash and rise up along the sandy slope.
After a while, she took Lily from House, fed her, and waited until the baby dropped off to sleep, then settled her in her carrier, unfolding it to the fully reclined position. When she looked up, House was watching keenly.
“Want to see you wet,” he told her. She eyed the water, then the baby.
“Go,” Marlena murmured, her fingers moving along wool of her crochet. “Hasi-Lily vill be out for at least oon hour.”
Cuddy went, feeling acutely self-conscious as she trotted next to House, one arm around him in support. It wasn’t her paleness, although that was part of it, certainly; rather the sense of . . . exposure.
House had no compunctions, and used the advantage of his height to peer down her cleavage as they hobbled to the shoreline. “I think I like using women as crutches. Softer, bouncier---“
“You like using women period. You’ve letched for as long as I’ve known you,” Cuddy pointed out with a hint of annoyance. “It’s as much a part of your DNA as blue eyes.”
“Maybe more so—ruthless testosterone,” he admitted. They’d reached the water and were wading in. Cuddy looked down at the foamy water around her shins and smiled.
“Warm—“
“And without the addition of anyone’s urine to achieve the effect,” House replied. Cuddy rolled her eyes and waded in further, relaxing as she did so. The sensations were marvelous, and turning so that she could keep an eye on the shore, Cuddy allowed herself to drift in the waves for a while and enjoy the water.
She kept an eye on House; partially out of habit, and partially out of self-preservation. Given his juvenile nature at times, he was dangerous when he was in a good mood—Lily had been the result of the last unanticipated encounter. House seemed to sense her wariness and kept circling around her, sleek as a seal, his stare unnerving.
“Stop it—you’re not going to untie my top,” Cuddy warned him firmly. House looked sulky, rising to stand and shaking his head to make water drops fly from his temples.
“You may be alert now, but my time will come,” he solemnly intoned. “When you least expect it---“
“I’m quaking,” Cuddy told him in a bored tone. She dove under and swam to catch the swell of a wave, riding it part of the way into the shore, then paddled back out to do it again, feeling a rare sense of delight.
So rare. She was a doctor, an administrator, a dean. Her life had been projects and bottom lines and policies for so many years, but for here and now, the simple joy of playing in the Pacific left Cuddy grinning. It was fun, and uncomplicated and for the moment, just what she needed. Yes they’d have to go back to New Jersey eventually, but this little break was perfect.
Or was up until the moment she was swept up in a sudden swell, and flipped end over end, losing track of direction in the churn of sand and water. Spluttering, Cuddy rose up, gulping in air, dizzy from the somersaults she’d just done underwater. It was only with the second breath that she realized her situation and true alarm set in. Ducking down, she waved her hands through the surrounding water, seeking but not finding.
She popped up to the surface swells again, looking around, not quite ready to panic yet, but moving in that direction, oh yes.
No bikini bottom drifting anywhere.
Suspicious now, Cuddy looked for House as well; he was floating on his back, eyes closed, several yards away, and despite her initial impulse, she doubted he had anything to do with her . . . loss.
He was also the only person who could help, she realized with resignation. Carefully dog-paddling over to him, Cuddy tried to keep out of arm’s reach. “Greg—“
“Is it time to go in already mom? Just five minutes more?” he whined back, opening one eye. Cuddy stared at him until House opened both eyes and reluctantly shifted to a standing position. “You can leave me out here by myself you know. I can swim.”
“I need your help,” Cuddy muttered reluctantly just as House’s keen eyesight took in her predicament. His mouth shifted from a puckered smirk into a slow, wide grin. In response, Cuddy shot him her patented Death Glare, which fizzled, given the circumstances below the waterline.
“You seem to be missing something—“ House began in a slow and happy gloat. “—and here I thought this vacation couldn’t get any better. Sometimes it’s so good to be wrong!”
“Noted Diagnostician drowns on vacation,” Cuddy shot back in a low monotone. “Family plans celebration, all of greater New Jersey invited.”
House shook his head, his gaze salacious and delighted. “Nice try, but not happening, She-Beast. Looks like most of the beach will be admiring da okole you got.”
“Fine. I need to get out of the water with a minimum of embarrassment, and if it requires a bribe on my part, I’ll do it,” Cuddy replied firmly. “Name your price, Greg.”
“Sex and lots of it,” he responded quickly. “I require a daily dose for the duration of this vacation, with an emphasis on you being the active partner, partner.”
“Oh reaaaa-lly?” Cuddy drawled, amused against her will at House’s unapologetic arrogance. Most of the time it was annoying as hell, but his bright-eyed gaze and quickened breathing had her aware of so much more in this negotiation. Cuddy noted too, how he’d moved closer to her. She backed up a little. House had already begun to pull off his wet t-shirt, and as it came over his head his hair fluffed along his ears.
“Do we have a deal? Because the minutes are ticking down, and I know you need this—“
“Yah, deal already, now give me the shirt!” Cuddy lightly snarled, reaching up for it. House held it aloft, which given his natural height put it well out of reach of his wife. She sulked, knowing a jump shot would expose more of her than she wanted anyone to see. “Houuuuse---“
“You need a show of good faith. I’ll settle for good flesh since I’m in a charitable mood.”
Cuddy glared at him once again, realizing what he meant. She shot a glance towards the beach; Marlena was holding Lily in a way that clearly indicated the baby was awake and slightly fussy. She sighed. “I can’t believe you!”
“You married me,” House pointed out, and his grin was gone for a moment, lost to an expression of flinty tenderness so quick that she might have missed it. Cuddy shifted in the water so that her back was to the beach, and in one quick move she grasped her bikini top along the bottom edge, lifting it in one quick flash before yanking it back down again.
“Give me the damned shirt,” she growled. House gave a bark of a laugh and tossed her the wet garment, watching her pull it over her own head and smooth it down.
They headed in, Cuddy gripping the hem of the tee-shirt to hold it down, and House bracing his arm around her shoulder to steady himself as they lumbered out of the surf together.
The shirt was almost long enough. Almost. Cuddy scuttled up to the umbrella, blushing, as House limped his way behind her, whistling loudly. She brushed past him, towel around her waist and clothes in hand, heading for the changing rooms, muttering dire threats under her breath. House grabbed another towel, wiped himself dry and settled into his empty beach chair with lazy arrogance. For a moment, Marlena merely stared at him over the baby in her arms.
“You.” She finally pronounced with flat finality. “Vhy?”
House didn’t deny it. He drew in a breath and leaned forward, favoring his right thigh, his eyes locked on Marlena’s. His reply was low, and sharp. “Because she holds herself to some impossibly high standards; unrealistic standards at times, Marlena. Pregnancy changes a mother’s body; it’s the price she pays for the process. I’m tired of having her fret over the difference between dress sizes, or about whether or not there are stretch marks or padding on her body. Intellectually the She-Beast knows all this, but accepting it emotionally—“
“—Ja,” Marlena agreed, nodding slowly. “Emotionally, hard to accept. So you---?”
“Bought a duplicate of her bikini one size up,” House admitted. “Took the tag out from the bottoms, but knowing Cuddy, that wouldn’t be good enough, so I simply tugged on a string once we were in the water, and let nature do the rest.”
“Devious, “ Marlena admitted with a grudging smile. “Oont dirty. Vot if you did not haf a shirt to offer her? Vot zen?”
House’s answering grin made Marlena chuff and turn away to cluck over the baby.
*** *** ***
He told them that night, speaking to both women on the porch of the bungalow, as they sat in the serene tropical darkness, listening to the distant roll of the surf. House was quiet and convincing, laying out his plan for the two of them.
After he’d finished, nobody spoke for a while. Then Cuddy cleared her throat and leaned forward. “I don’t want this to be just about Hinoshu, Greg. You can get away with insulting the man on a thousand other levels, from his politics to his fashion sense, but religion is a dangerous area.”
“I’m not insulting him. Weren’t you listening? Offering to have him at the Imp’s Miyamairi is practically naming him godfather for all intents and purposes.”
“Lily’s not going to be a . . . a Shintoist,” Cuddy snorted. House rolled his eyes and let his gaze come to rest on her as he gave a loud sigh.
“Maybe not, but you can bet your bottom Yen that Hinoshu is, to some degree, and this is all about face, She-Beast. Not quite a bluff, more like a compromise. If he’s going to insist on being a part of our kid’s life—and it looks like he is, unfortunately—then the best we can do is set the terms. Besides, Shinto isn’t really a religion, per se. It’s sort of a formalized New Age-ism with a few more centuries behind it than the Western version.”
Seeing by the set of her crossed arms that she was unconvinced, House added, “We honor him, we honor her, everyone’s happy, and we get a nice cup of wine when it’s over.”
“And that’s it? No formal commitment, no bond to a Higher Being?” Cuddy scoffed.
Marlena nodded gently. “I sink in zis case it is not a matter of what ve belief, but what this man, Hinoshu, beliefs. Oont what Hasi-Greg iz not saying iz that in a vay, Hinoshu is partially responsible for vot has come to pass. Your courtship oont marriage. Ze birth of Lily. Zose must be . . . recognized, nu?”
Marlena’s quiet and thoughtful words hung in the tropical night air for a long moment. Cuddy shifted a little in her chair, and looked steadily at House, who looked back at her.
“Okay then,” she murmured. “So it’s not a game; not some sort of mocking thing. And we’re doing this tomorrow?”
“Yep. Tomorrow the Demon Spawn will be one hundred days old; the right time for the ceremony. We’ve got a two o’clock appointment at the Izumo Taishakyo Mission, downtown. We’ll do lunch, get Imp blessed and come back for some serious napping.”
“Got it all planned out?” Cuddy asked suspiciously, but House rose from his chair and prodded her calf with his cane.
“I’m calling in a certain marker now---“
Marlena kept a straight face and rose herself. “Oont I am going to pick out postcards from ze main lobby. I’m taking my key because I may be gone a long, long time.”
Cuddy let herself be pulled up from the rattan chair, trying to stay annoyed, but not quite able to keep it up. She followed House to their bedroom and headed for the bathroom as he locked their door.
He crowded up behind her against the counter, kissing her neck as she brushed her teeth, and his groping hands had her spluttering white foam as she squirmed. “Hou’!”
“A mouthful of white dribbles. Very porn. Let’s see if we can recreate it with the real stuff,” he growled in her ear.
“You’re disgusting,” Cuddy told his reflection with distain, but at that moment he slid a hand down into her shorts and cupped her vulva, the press of his palm sweet and firm and precise. She shuddered, arching back in surprised response, and House grinned.
“Yep. But I’m also very good,” he reminded her, and bent closer to whisper something else. Cuddy’s eyelids fluttered for a moment, and she languidly turned to press herself against him, her soft reply murmured against the warm skin of his neck.
They left the bedroom window open, letting their soft sighs and low groans carry out into the tropical night blending in with the rustle of the palms and the occasional call of a night bird out in the distant jungle. House kept Cuddy to her word and lay back under her, savoring the slow grind of her hips to his, the way her hair tangled in his fingers.
It became a slow, evil game between them; building up and stopping, riding a rising crest of pleasure and holding off only to build it up again. Skin grew hot and sweaty, Cuddy cursed, and bit while House ran possessive hands along her back and ass, taunting her sweetly. When neither of them could take the torment any longer, Cuddy clutched his wrists and pinned them down on the pillow, taking her satisfaction as she quickened the bounce of her body against his. House gave in to the molten rise of his orgasm, hips arching eagerly off the mattress as Cuddy thrust her tongue deep into his groan of pleasure.
It took a long time to cool down.
