Chapter
Two
She
woke up slowly, rising through layers of sleep, the remnants of her
dreams
fading away
like mist along the edges of her thoughts. Cuddy smiled. She lay on
her side, comfortable and
warm thanks to the long radiating frame of House pressed
up behind her, snoring softly. The
ancient bedside clock read a little after
seven, and the overcast light coming through the
windows foretold a hint of
rain.
Cuddy
sighed. The corset was pressing into her ribcage a bit since
House’s arm was
wrapped
around her chest, so she shifted and got out of bed. She ran
her hands
through her hair,
hoping she’d remembered to pack mouthwash. Carefully she
reached up, stretching, letting
every muscle along her stomach and shoulders
lengthen out . . . God it felt good. The little
aches this morning were sweet
reminders, and Cuddy smiled all the way into the bathroom.
She
turned on the faucet, and a glitter caught her eye. Staring, she looked
down at
her left
hand, seeing, FEELING the ring for the first time. Her chest tightened
even as she studied the
delicate filigree heart with the diamond in the
center
of it.
Perfect.
I would have picked it out. Oh GOD, he can’t be serious---
She
pushed herself up from the sink and stared at her reflection for a long
moment
as the
woman in the mirror stared back. Wild tangled morning hair that would
take plenty gel and
patience to tame; pale skin needing blush to not look
completely dead; big startled eyes filling
up—
No.
Not going to cry. NO, she
ordered
herself sternly. Then she brought her hand up to her
face, and the image of the
ring nestled perfectly on her finger broke her resolve for a
moment.
The sob
escaped, a choked sound and Cuddy pressed her palms back down on the
counter
for support, letting the wave of fear-tinged joy roll over her. Hot
tears
rolled down her face,
splashing on rim of the sink.
A
sound at the doorway startled her; Cuddy raised her face to see House
standing
there
uneasily, a ludicrous sight with his flyaway curls and naked body,
gripping his cane for support.
He winced. “This is the good kind of crying,
right?”
She
turned to him, laughing through her sniffles and slid into his
one-armed
embrace. Cuddy
felt his muscles unclench and realized how tense House had been.
How . . . uncertain, for once
in his life.
She
raised her face to his, blinking through the wetness, and rubbing her
cold nose
on his
shoulder. “It’s the good kind. Damn it, you knew
once I saw
it I’d be
helpless to refuse, didn’t
you? That’s so . . . fiendish of you, Greg! Totally
unfair!”
He
dropped a kiss to the top of her head, blinking quickly.
“Rush
job, considering
you have to
arrange our wedding in twenty-four hours.”
Cuddy
pulled away to glare up into his face. “I WHAT?”
she
yelled. House looked up
to the low
ceiling of the cottage and gave a deep sigh, conveying a mock
disappointment.
“Oh
She-Beast, come on. You’re one of the most efficient,
ruthless
Deans of
Medicine on the
East Coast—if anyone can pull this together in two days
it’s you.
We’ll get
through the vows, have some cake and call it a marriage. Hinoshu will
be appeased, the
hospital funding will be finalized and everyone wins.”
She
quivered, fighting the twin urges to throttle him and kiss him
senseless. “So that’s
it—your
line of reasoning, huh?” She licked the corner of her mouth,
tasting a
tear. “Get married simply because the license is about to run
out
and it makes
good financial sense career-wise?”
House
slipped his arm around her and swung them both back towards the bed; he
pushed
her
down, pinning her to the tangled blankets with the weight of his big,
warm
body and kissed her
neck. Cuddy pounded his back in protest, but he kept
kissing, working his way to a little magic
spot behind one delicate ear, licking
it firmly. She moaned, horrified at how loud it was, how her
legs slid up and
around his thighs. House breathed against the side of her face.
“No,
we’re getting married because we both want it, Lisa. Because
it’s right, even
if on the
surface it seems for the wrong reasons. If the added benefits are
that the hospital gets funded,
great. But right here the truth comes down to
the fact that you love me, and I love you.” House
rumbled.
“Even if---“
He
rolled off of her, and Cuddy lay there a moment, longer, fighting more
tears,
regretting the
loss of his warm weight. She looked over at him next to her.
“Even
if---“ she prompted. House gave a little shrug.
“Well,
even if you can’t actually pull it off. I was just trying to
boost your
confidence there
because I have my doubts that you CAN—post holiday, short
notice—“ he gave a resigned little
sigh. Cuddy thrust her jaw out mulishly,
feeling the warmth blooming in her stomach at the
challenge.
She
sat up, brushing her hair back and leaned over him, narrowing her gaze
and
stroking her
hand down his bare chest along the sweet little trail of fur that
passed over his navel towards
his groin. House met her gaze, his own looking
startled, and aroused. Cuddy bent and brushed
her lips on his.
“You
don’t think I can pull it off? Ceremony, rings, suit and
dress,
dinner? I beg
to differ,
Gregory House. I’ve done dinner parties in twenty minutes,
I’ve had
ORs prepped in SEVEN; I
can pull off a simple wedding in two days---“
“You
think?” He grunted as her hand slid around his rising shaft.
She
arched an
eyebrow at him,
her fingers sliding in a slow snug stroke. House looked down at
the sweetly lewd sight of his
cock caressed by her hand, the ring twinkling in
the overcast light of the bedroom.
“I
KNOW,” she purred with the confidence of a tigress.
“With a
little input from
you.”
“Input—“
House gasped, feeling himself swell in her grasp, “Oh
I’m
into input. Thinking
about
putting it into you right NOW in fact—“
“Shhhhh—Merry
Christmas by the way, “ Cuddy smirked, toying with him.
“Nice candy cane—“
“That’s
not a candy cane, it’s the North Pole—“
House argued
right before she pulled
her hand
away and scooted back onto the bed, laughing.
“Oh
yeah? Well let’s see if it points in the right direction,
buster.”
House
rolled over and deftly snagged one of Cuddy’s slender ankles,
his
big hand
circling it
easily. With calm force, he pushed his way forward until he was
braced against the edge of the
bed, his shoulders under her thighs. Cuddy
looked down at him, amused to be folded in half, her
eyes liquid and big in the
morning light. He rubbed his bristly cheek along the inside of her
thigh,
lightly, letting it tickle and tease rather than hurt.
“You
have no idea how sexy you smell, do you?” he began
conversationally, blowing a
soft puff
of breath across the thatch of tangled fur nearly under his lips.
“Warm and female. Utterly
female. The rich perfume of your pheromones and
hormones bewitching my poor nose and
dick. I love the scent of you on my sheets,
She-Beast. I hold off washing them so I can sleep
with that when you’re not
there.”
House
nibbled lightly on the long hollow along one inner thigh, making Cuddy
quiver.
She tried to
push him away, but he caught her hands and wove his fingers into
hers under her thighs,
pinning her hands to the mattress. They both felt her
ring in their united grip.
“Greg---“
“But
the real thrill is how you taste. See, I was never a big fan of
orality,” House
murmured,
moving his lips closer to her soft fluff. “The first time I
kissed
you—not here, but on your mouth—changed everything.
I may
not have much of a
sweet tooth when it comes to food, but
my sense of taste is fine tuned where
you’re concerned.”
“What
are you talking about?” Cuddy whimpered as her hips began to
wriggle a bit.
House
chuckled softly.
“The
mouth of a woman is the promise of her body, She-Beast. Men like myself
understand
that, we KNOW kisses are the teasing appetizer, and if the flavor of
her mouth makes you hard
you’re going to love going down on
her.”
“Oh
really?” Cuddy managed through clenched teeth. His slow
teasing
was thrumming
over her nerves, and she tried to lift her hips up to his lips.
“Yep.
And your lips told me your muff was going to taste like pulpy
strawberries,
sun-warmed
and melting in that heat, tangy and rich--“ He rumbled
happily.
Cuddy
closed her eyes to better enjoy the way her body held the tension, the
anticipation of
House’s impending kiss. The leisurely glide of his tongue
right
along her cleft left her shivering
hard, his heat so alive and slick.
“Oh
God---“ came her low moan. He did it again, slowly; as if he
had
all the time
in the world to
enjoy himself. She flexed a bit, fingers tightening with his.
“Stop teasing!”
“Why?”
House breathed softly, the question as much a torment as his tongue had
been.
Cuddy wriggled again, and gave a frustrated growl.
“Because
I will KILL you if you don’t get TO it, Greg!”
Her
frantic tone and the helpless wriggle of her ass sent fresh heat
through his
entire frame,
and House gave up holding back. With sweet deliberation he licked
and suckled his way along
her soft petal folds, savoring the flavor that was
uniquely, deliciously Cuddy.
Her
low groans and sighs grew louder, thrilling some deep place within him,
making
his cock
stiffen shamelessly. House lost himself in the smug joy of taking her
to the brink again and
again, building up her erotic bliss with slow and
delectable skill. Finally, he circled his tongue
steadily against the throbbing
bud, rewarded with Cuddy’s low cry of sheer animal
pleasure.
Her slender thighs
brushed his stubbly cheeks.
When
she’d all but collapsed, relaxing against the rumpled sheets,
House rose up and
slid his
arms around her thighs. He pulled. Startled, Cuddy’s limp
frame
slid
to the edge of the bed, legs dangling on either side of his hips. He
leaned
over her, bracing himself against the edge of the mattress, staring
down at
her, his expression etched in blue-eyed desire.
Cuddy
reached down, her hand circling his engorged shaft, guiding the head to
the
gleaming
rose cleft. House held back, muscles trembling with the effort it
took, and the tantalizing kiss of
his flesh to hers, barely touching was both
frustrating and beautiful as she looked down at it at
their bodies.
He
spoke, his voice raspy and deep.
“I
want you. I want THIS, Lisa. Night after night, year into
year—nothing less
than what we are
here and now, because---“ and before she could say anything
to
that, House rocked his hips
forward and slickly sank himself deeply into her,
“—We. Fit. OhGOD—“
And
they were mindless after that, frenzied in pleasure and wrapped in each
other,
mouths
caressing skin, bodies rocking in a relentless rhythm as timeless as
the
waves beyond the
windows of the little bedroom.
***
*** ***
The
phone rang. With an oath,
the nightstand. He
fished for the cell phone off the carpet, distracted only when a hand
slid
across his hip.
“’Lo?”
he chuffed, rolling onto his back. Emily was deep under the covers; a
lump
under the
quilt.
“Get
out your suitcase, Jimmy-Boy. You’re catching the four forty
seven PM flight on
Oceanic
to
airport counter.”
“Oh
thank you, I was wondering how I was going to get out of clinic
today,”
his
tone mild. “Clearly an emergency conference on a tropical
island
is the perfect
excuse.”
“You
can thank me later. Now roll over and tell your professional associate
to watch
that flea
hotel dog of yours for two days. Don’t forget to pack a
suit.”
“Did
it ever occur to you I might say no, Greg? That I might in fact have
PLANS for
the
holidays?”
“It
occurred to me that the longer you talk on the phone the less time you
have to
screw Emily goodbye,” came the snide response. “Get
with
the program.”
“Serious,”
House agreed. “So get your on-call covered. See you here
around
seven—“ he
hung
up as
from
under the blankets, her smile warm.
“What’s
up?”
“That
was House. Apparently he wants me to meet him in Bermuda . .
.”
most immediate suspicion came rushing into his mind. His eyes widened
and he
let his jaw
work a second at Emily scooted closer and draped herself all over
him.
“
mumbled, laying her head on his bare
chest and gently toying with one brown nipple.
shook his head against the pillows and
absently bent to kiss the top of her head.
“Not
his style. For Greg the biggest joke would be no joke at all, which is
precisely what I think’s
going on. Oh God . . . Em, I—“
keeping quiet. She tilted her face to look up at him and caught the
conflict there. Very carefully
she bit back a smile.
“I
know that look,” she whispered. “I see it all the
time with
my patients. You’ve
got something
you want to say, but you’re afraid to do it. It’s
not hard
to
guess, James, so let me try—all you
have to do is nod or shake your head, okay?”
Very
slowly he nodded and Emily propped her chin on his chest, thinking for
a moment
as she
tried to blow her bangs out of her face. “Let’s
see—he needs you to get
there quick, so it’s
something impulsive—“
“But
it can’t be something illegal, since he’s not
calling from
jail—“
Another
nod.
“It’s
mostly likely something personal because he’s calling you
here at
home.”
Another
nod, this one accompanied by a grin. Emily drew in a breath and lifted
her chin
from
Wilson
blankets. He kissed her nose gently, then
let his mouth land on hers as he spoke.
“That’s
what I think too—so I don’t know whether to cheer
him on,
or talk him out of
it.”
Emily
smiled, and kissed him back with a little more oomph, laughing at the
flare of
heat
between them. She shifted her lips to the side of his face, feeling the
sparse scrape of his
stubble.
“Decide
when you get there—but for right now—“
came her
murmur. However the soft whine
of
Oliver from behind the closed bedroom door broke into the moment, and
both
smiled
crookedly at each other.
“Two
days in
Emily
thought for a moment, mentally calculating. “Just out of
potential conception
week, so for
the next twelve days or so we wait and keep our fingers
crossed.”
hug, then sighed.
“Okay
then. So if I’m out of town, could I persuade you to
watch—“
“—Oliver?
No problem. We’ll hang out here until you get
back,” Emily
agreed contentedly.
“It will
give me a chance to catch up on some file notes I’ve been
putting
off.”
***
*** ***
House
looked at the list Cuddy held out to him and considered whining, but
the gleam
in her eye forestalled it; reluctantly he took the slip of paper. They
stood on
the sidewalk outside ER
Aubrey, Jewelers in the Naval Dockyard shopping center.
The day was not as overcast, and
seagulls wheeled overhead, getting ready to
follow the ferry heading for
stared down at the paper.
“You
really want to get me one?” he finally asked, and his voice
held
a genuine hint
of surprise.
Cuddy squared her shoulders and nodded ever so slightly. She
looked pale but determined in
her long denim skirt and pink sweater.
“Look
it’s . . . traditional, okay? That reminds
me—what
ARE you? Catholic?
Protestant?”
even as she asked, an odd sense of shame hit her stomach that she
didn’t already know.
House looked up from his list.
“Lutheran,
thanks to Farber. Seriously LAPSED Lutheran. But I assumed
we’d
be doing
something civil and nondenominational.”
“Yeah,
well if we opt for that, then the only place we can get married is in
that
stuffy little office
at the Registrar’s, Greg.
setting, we have to
opt for something religious. Cold feet yet?” she demanded,
her
tone faint.
House
shook his head and stuffed the list into his coat pocket before looking
at the
jeweler’s
again. Behind the glass the shopkeeper was just coming to the door to
hang the OPEN sign.
“Nope. But I draw the line at either of us writing any
vows—they’ll be enough pain inflicted all
around as it is.”
“You
romantic you--how did I even bag such a prize?” Cuddy snapped
as
he held the
door
open for her. House lightly goosed her with his cane as he followed her
over the doorstep.
“You
cooked me Sauerbraten,” he reminded her. “And sexed
me
down. I figured that was
a
pretty sweet gig from my point of view.”
A
thin young woman came forward and smiled at the two of them
confidently.
“How may I help
you?”
“If
you can stop inducing yourself from vomiting for the next twenty
minutes or so,
we’d like to
see some men’s wedding rings,” House replied
firmly. The
clerk
shot him a panicked look and
he gave an annoyed shrug.
“Oh
come on—you’ve got scraped knuckles on your left
hand, and
damaged enamel on
your
bottom teeth. Added to that are the facts that your breath is overly
mouthwashed and you have waterspots on your neckline. We need to look
at size
eight, eight and a half.” Turning to Cuddy
he muttered, “Been a long time since
I wore a ring. High school I think—“
The
little clerk was still frozen to the spot, and Cuddy took pity on her.
She
leaned forward.
“He’s rude, but he’s usually right, so
when
you’re ready,
there’s a hotline and a clinic in King
Edward. Size eight?”
With
eyes downcast, the clerk pulled out a green velvet tray of rings and
set it
down. Cuddy
looked at House. He shrugged back, his gaze mock-innocent.
“Can I
get one that says ‘Pimp
Daddy’ in diamonds?”
“You
know, if I didn’t love you so much I’d probably
take less
pleasure in pointing
out that as of
tonight we’re sleeping apart.” She muttered under
her
breath.
House’s expression instantly
shifted to annoyed petulance.
“Not
going to happen.”
“Is.
I’m sleeping at Miss Locke’s tonight while you and
Wilson
bunk up.”
“Noooo.”
House picked two rings out of the velvet and set them aside. Cuddy
examined one
carefully.
“Yeeessss.
I like this one—has a sort of elegance to
it—“ she
held up the band to the
light. It
was muted silver, with two deep grooves around it. House studied the
ring intently.
“No,
no, no on the sleeping arrangements, possibly yes on the ring.
Let’s see if it
fits.” So
saying, he held out his hand, fingers facing her. Cuddy slid the ring
along the third one smoothly, working it over the knuckle and giving it
a
little twist against his hand. House watched her, never
looking down at
his
fingers the entire time, and when Cuddy glanced up, he held her gaze.
“It
works,” she commented in a contented voice. “The
same metal
as mine.” House
flexed his
hand and finally looked down. His jaw flexed a little and his
shoulders rose a bit. Lifting his head
he gave a tiny tender smile; just a
quirk of the corners of his mouth.
Cuddy
felt her heart begin to beat loudly.
The
clerk cleared her throat. “Pla-tinum. A very good
investment.”
House
reluctantly pulled the ring off and set it on the counter.
“One
for one—damn
good odds, She-Beast. Now let’s find the something to go with
what you’ve got.”
To the clerk he added,
“women’s wedding bands, size six,
pla-tinum—“
The
clerk carried away the men’s tray and returned with one of
women’s rings
sitting on while
velvet. Cuddy looked down for long undecided minutes and
finally House snorted as he fished
for his bottle of Vicodin.
“It’s
not a box of chocolates—PICK one already.”
“Hold
your horses. I’m only getting one shot at this, so
I’m
going to take my time—“
Cuddy
replied absently, finally plucking a thin band out of the selection.
House rolled his eyes and dry-swallowed his dosage while Cuddy held the
ring
against the filigree heart already on her
hand, and shook her head.
“Not
a match.”
“It’s
got to match?” House demanded in an aggrieved tone.
“What—are the Nuptials
Police
going to swoop down on us if it doesn’t?”
“Greg—“
she muttered sweetly, selecting another one, “Shut
up.”
He
smirked at that, and batted his eyes at her. “Gee, our first
fight—this is
supposed to
guarantee nasty hot making up sex later, right?”
“Of
course—” Cuddy replied, slipping the new ring on
and
admiring it. “Unless you
meant with
each other. This one.” She waggled her hand.
“It’s a
match.”
House
fished his credit card out and snapped it down, scowling with grudging
admiration as
Cuddy leaned over and rubbed her nose with his. “So,
Hasi-Greggie, how do you feel about
taking MY last name, by the way?”
“You’re
pushing it now, She-Beast.”
***
*** ***
Miss
Locke looked over the assembled group around the tea room table with a
gimlet
eye, then
sighed a little. Lisa appeared slightly frazzled; that was to
be
expected, and the handsome
young man next to her seemed a proper gentleman . .
. and then there was the groom.
Points
against Gregory House were his refusal to shave and an impudent
attitude that
Miss
Locke knew Lisa would have to nip early. In his favor, the man was kind
to
Archie, and was desperately in love with the girl. Only an utter fool
could
miss the way he watched Lisa when he
didn’t think anyone saw it; a look of
shadowed devotion that even she, Miss Locke envied and empathized with.
“Very
well then. My good friend Reverend Palmer should be here soon to
discuss the
ceremony with you. It’s short notice, but Nathaniel owes me a
favor or two that
I don’t mind
calling in on behalf of your happiness, Lisa.”
“Thank
you Beatrix. I’m very touched,” Cuddy murmured,
sipping her
cup of tea. Miss
Locke
nodded, and turned her attention to House, who was eyeing Archie as he
slept on the rug next
to the chair.
“Gregory—have
you gotten a suit for tomorrow?”
“Yes.
Against my will I’ve been talked into a cream linen affair
with
some sort of
shirt and tie
that will go with it. I draw the line at dress shoes,
however—much as everyone loves a pratfall
I’m not willing to give up on good
treads for this event, so don’t ask.”
Miss
Locke glanced down at House’s sneakers and gave a delicate
little
shudder. He
glared
back.
“Yes,
just off the cottages, by the rocks. Most of the sand is hard-packed
there and
it’s a lovely
spot. And private.” Cuddy replied.
“Romantic—“
“So
we have rings, outfits, a location—“
“—Flowers
and a cake,” Miss Locke murmured, going by a mental
checklist.
“Terry-Anne over
at Bermuda Rum Cake Company is doing you the Bride and Groom
cakes—my little
present to
you both of course, and Filbertine’s oldest, Sheryl I think
is
her
name, is making a proper
bouquet for you as well. You still favor those odd roses?”
“Talismans,”
House broke in dryly. “The ones that look like scoops of
orange
sherbet.”
Miss
Locke mentally added another point in his favor. Archie yawned and
stretched,
waking up
as someone walked up towards the table.
“Beatrix
my dear . . . I take it this is my party?”
“Nathaniel—“
Miss Locke smiled, and gestured to the empty chair next to
her.
“It’s
good to
see you.”
Nathaniel
Palmer was a thin sprig of a man, with short white hair and a full
beard. His
brows
were equally thick, and his nose looked as if it had been broken and
poorly set more than once.
He took Miss Locke’s thin hand and squeezed it
before settling in between her and Cuddy.
“Sorry
I’m a bit late—got caught behind the Christmas
gombey
dancers. So—“ he looked
at
Cuddy and
“The
two of THEM—“
“You
must be Doctor Gregory House—what a small world it is
indeed.”
House
eyed the man, his brows drawing together, trying to dredge up a memory,
but
Palmer
shook his head at the attempt. “No don’t bother,
we’ve never met, but
I’ve heard much about
you from a former member of my old congregation. Edward
Vogler was quite--opinionated.”
Cuddy
paled;
“You’re kidding.”
“Hardly.
And considering the degree to which you vexed that profiteer,
I’m
honored to
make
your acquaintance,” Palmer smiled at House contentedly.
“It’s good to know
that there are still
men of integrity in medicine. So, shall we talk about your
vows? Who’s doing the obeying?”
Instantly
both House and Cuddy pointed at each other, across
***
*** ***
The
phone rang just as Emily guiltily jumped back from the closet.
She’d been
arguing with
herself that she wasn’t snooping, precisely . . . merely
taking a
look around. Certainly
had some interesting things to look at. The selection of catalogs
stacked
neatly under the bed
alone was a revelation—who knew gentle James Wilson was
such a Jezebel’s fan?
“Hello?”
“Hey
Em,” came his warm voice over the line. “Just
checking in
to see how Oliver’s
doing.
Does he miss me?”
“Um,
not really,” she confessed with a laugh. “I
microwaved him
a beef kidney and
patted him
for an hour while we watched X-Files together. I think he’s
MY
dog
now.”
over. I’d pass on the kidney but if you
patted me for an hour I’d consider myself yours
too.”
“And
I’ve patted you a lot,” Emily agreed.
“So,
what’s up in
bed and flopped down on it.
“Two
people who shall remain nameless are getting married tomorrow
afternoon. Tell
me,
given what you know of the personalities involved, is this a hasty
ill-conceived idea doomed to
end in heartache and misery, or is this a fated
impulsively beautiful realization of a lasting
love?”
Emily
sighed back at him, feeling a tug of tenderness through her chest.
“You’ve
known them
longer than I have, James. You tell ME.”
“I
wish I knew. They squabble just as much as ever, and yet, in the midst
of all
the wrongness
there’s a pervasive sense of wholeness there.”
“They
do seem to accept each other at face value,” Emily agreed
softly.
“Rare as that
is.
Going to buy them a toaster?”
“More
likely a coffeemaker, given their duel addiction to the bean. I should
be back
around nine
-fifteen tomorrow, Flight 228. Come get me? “ James
wheedled
lightly. Emily laughed.
“Bribe
me.”
“I’ll
bring you something from
on the line between them, the place
where special words should have been said, had either of
them been brave enough
to speak up. Finally Emily cleared her throat.
“Okay,
you have a safe flight, and I’ll be there at the airport.
Take
care, James.”
“I
will. Home soon—“ and the little click of
disconnection
sounded loud in the
room.
***
*** ***
Cuddy
lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling of Beatrix Locke’s
guest
bedroom and
fighting the
urge to check the bedside clock. She lost. Looking over, Cuddy
noted with despair that only two minutes had passed since
she’d
last checked
the time and it was now three twenty-two in the
morning. Restlessly she
shifted.
Something
tapped on the bedroom window; startled, Cuddy stared at the dim shape,
and with
a
gusty sigh of relieved aggravation she slipped out of bed and opened it
to
glare up at House.
“I
KNEW it,” she muttered, clenching her jaw and fighting the
spike
of fear in her
gut. Cuddy
lifted her chin. “Damn it, I just KNEW it! At least
you’ve
got the
balls to say goodbye.”
“We’re
not planning to have kids, right?” House interrupted, staring
back at her. “We
sort of
talked about this before, that ‘oopsie’
conversation a
while back but
I’d like to make sure.”
“What?”
Cuddy leaned out the window, her long hair hanging down. House
impatiently
shifted
his stance; moonlight cast a silvery sheen over his features as he
stood there in his boxers
and Ramones tee shirt.
“Ixnay
on abiesbay, right? At least planned ones.”
Perplexed,
Cuddy’s brows went up. She sighed. “Let me get this
straight, Greg—it’s three
twenty-three on the morning of our wedding day and you’re
JUST
getting around
to asking me
whether or not I’d be willing to have your
baby?”
“And
you accuse me of never thinking ahead—“ he grumbled
to
cover the nervousness
roiling
in his gut. “What’s your point?”
“My
POINT is that you already told me you didn’t WANT
kids!”
Cuddy hissed in a
peeved tone.
The fact that she looked beautiful even hanging out a windowsill
wasn’t lost on House, who kept
his gaze on her.
“I
said I’d make a lousy father. That doesn’t
automatically
mean you’d make a
lousy mother, She-Beast. In fact with you as a parent, any kid of ours
has more
than half the battle won.”
“Jesus
this is a great time to spring THIS on me!” Cuddy griped,
clutching the sill a
little more
tightly. “And what do you mean about planned ones? Were you
considering having unplanned
ones?”
House
stepped closer to the window and reached up to wrap a few fingers
around one of
her
long curls hanging down. He studied it a moment.
“Lisa—shut
up and listen.
I’m not GOOD with
people, kids least of all. I know that. YOU
know that. But if
in the course of human events, AKA
our consummated marriage there comes a time
when another ‘oops’ happens, I don’t want
you
to automatically assume anything.”
Cuddy
stared at House, feeling a sweet exasperation. “So what
you’re saying is that
we would
be better off planning to NOT have kids, but if I accidentally DO
become pregnant I shouldn’t
make a dash for the RU486.”
House
let her hair curl around his finger and nodded, very slowly, not
looking at
her. Cuddy
exhaled.
“Fine.
So now that you have THAT off your manly chest, what about MY nagging
doubt?”
House
looked up, shoulders tensing under his tee shirt. “What doubt
have YOU got?” he
muttered, looking oddly vulnerable. Cuddy closed her eyes a moment, and
forced
the words out,
saying them fast in an effort to duck under the pain of
them.
“Are
you marrying me because you can’t have Stacy? It’s
the
first thing I thought
when we
began, and it bothers me because even now I don’t really
know,
Greg.
Trading one brunette for another, like disposable gloves or sharps
caps---”
“I
never—“ House stirred himself and blinked at Cuddy,
licking
his lips. “--I
never asked Stacy
to marry me.”
“Oh,”
Cuddy paused for a moment and gave a twisted smile. “Afraid
she’d turn you
down?”
For
a strange, moon-tinged moment House said nothing, but when he looked at
Cuddy a
flare
of hopeless adoration shadowed his expression, and she drew in a quick,
painful breath. “Oh
my God—“
“I
was afraid she’d say yes,” House confessed in a
husky
whisper, “and if she did
THAT then
I’d be obligated to try and make myself into the man she
wanted
me to
be, not the man I actually
am. YOU take me as I stand, She-Beast. You take me
in stride and even with all the yelling and disagreements, I know who I
am with
you. I know you and damn it you know ME. That makes all
the difference, Lisa.”
Cuddy
gave a tight nod, trying to get herself under control, but even so it
was hard
to see him
through the sudden gleam of tears. Her jaw ached, and she blinked,
reaching out to cup his
bristly cheek.
House
managed a twisted smirk of his own as he closed his eyes and nuzzled
against
her
hand. “I’m not a good man, but I can do
this.”
She
gave a shaky laugh. “All right. I can too.”
***
*** ***
“Mein
Gott! mein
Gott, Greg bin ich für Sie
so glücklich!
Dieses ist wundervoll. Machen Sie
photos!” came the tinny excited tones of
Marlena Farber over the line. House rolled his eyes
and tried to keep the phone
pinned between his shoulder and ear as he fumbled with his tie.
“I’ll
get
“Zorry,
Zorry, but
I’m zo heppy! Livink long enough to zee you
married! Mit einem Minister?”
“Yes.
Vows, rings, the
whole nine yards. I’ve got about—“ House
checked his watch briefly,
“Nine minutes to get on the beach. Any advice?”
“Benehmen
Sie sich,” she snickered, and more softly added, “I
loff
you mein Hasi. Now go,
get married, ja?”
“Ja,”
House lowered his chin, feeling ridiculously happy. “Ich
liebe Dich auch. We’ll see you
when we all get back.”
He hung up and
looked at
Wilson, who was combing his hair and
looking unfairly well-rested.
James looked away from the mirror at him, eyes
twinkling.
his tweed coat and cable sweater vest.
“It’s
so odd to be
on the other side of this situation,
particularly with YOU,” he began, “it’s
like
being in that Star Trek universe
where I should be wearing a goatee.”
“If
you wore a goatee
you’d look like a goat,” House snapped back
absently, finishing his
Windsor
suit and striped blue shirt the once over. “I can tell this
is
leading to that last minute advice
you’re dying to give me, soooooo—“
“That’s
IT?”
“Pretty
much.”
They made
their way out of the
cottage, stepping off the porch
steps and walking down the little
sandy trail to the beach. House spotted the
Reverend carefully flipping through a Bible resting
on a music stand. The tide
was coming in, and the thin afternoon sun made the day less
chilly
than the
previous one. The sand made walking a little tricky, but House safely
reached
Reverend Palmer and craned his neck looking around.
“So
where is she?”
“About
two yards behind
you—“ Palmer commented, not looking up.
“Impatient, or just
nervous?”
“I’m
never
nervous.”
“Riiight.
That explains
why your knuckles are white and you’re
twitching like a Pomeranian on
crack,”
stick.
“Just
because you happen
to be well-versed in this—“
“Shhh—“
House looked
over in the other
direction and gazed as Miss Locke
in a pale lavender suit and appropriately English white straw hat came
down
towards them with Archie on a leash. He in
turn had a sprig of carnation and
rosebud tucked in his collar and periodically attempted to eat
them both on the
trip down to the beach. Miss Locke shot an approving glance at House.
“Oh
how very nice you
look, Gregory. Rather romantic, in a
cavalier way.” She chirped in her
clipped British tones.
House gave a
slight nod at her
compliment, and let his gaze return
up the path where Cuddy
was walking. She looked . . . he wasn’t sure he could
find a word that quite covered all of it.
Amazing came to mind, along with
elegant, nervous and slightly wary.
Cuddy’s
knee-length dress
was off-white lace, a peasant
style with a wide scoop neckline that
showed off her gorgeous
collarbones. She
had her dark hair down loosely, the wavy locks
blowing a little around her pace
face, and in her hands she carried a small bouquet of cream
and orange roses
tied up with a green satin ribbon. House watched her walk closer
and
suddenly,
an impish gust blowing over the low waves caught the edge of her skirt,
flipping it up
to reveal a sexy flash of her long pale-stocking-covered thighs
before Cuddy furiously
smoothed her hemline down again with one hand.
put him back on track.
Reverend Palmer gave Cuddy a nod to approach closer; House
turned
to face her,
his expression slightly grave. She mirrored it, and after a second they
both
relaxed
by degrees.
“All
right then. Let us
pray . . . “ Reverend Palmer began gently,
and led them in a quiet voice
through the gentle opening supplication. The
service was concise, and within ten minutes
House found himself being coaxed
through his part of the vows.
“I, Gregory
Phillip,” Palmer encouraged. House blinked and repeated,
“I
Gregory
Phillip.”
“Take you, Lisa
Mary
Melora, to be my wife, and these things I promise you--”
“--Take you Lisa
Mary Melora to be my wife and these things I promise you--”
he
intoned in a
slightly deeper than normal voice. Cuddy had her gaze firmly on the
knot of his
tie, and she
fought the impulse to close her eyes. She felt dizzy; hot and cold
and so acutely aware of the
complete moment around the two of them.
“I will be
faithful to you and honest with you; I will respect, trust, help and
care for
you; I will
share my life with you; I will forgive you as we have been
forgiven; and I will try with you better to understand ourselves, the
world,
and God; through the best and the worst of what is to come as
long as we live.”
House echoed the words carefully, one hand gripping his cane, the
other
holding
Cuddy’s icy fingers.
The Reverend
looked at Cuddy and managed a quick smile. “And I, Lisa Mary
Melora take you,
Gregory Phillip—“
“I, Lisa Mary
Melora take you Gregory Phillip,” came her whisper,
“to be
my husband and these
things I promise you—“
“I will be
faithful to you and honest with you; I will respect, trust, help and
care for
you; I will
share my life with you; I will forgive you as we have been
forgiven; and I will try with you better to understand ourselves, the
world,
and God; through the best and the worst of what is to come as
long as we live,”
came her soft, sometimes shaky words.
Reverend Palmer
looked at House expectantly. House looked back at him, then at Cuddy.
She
looked at him expectantly.
glance, taking the
small band.
“I knew
that.”
He muttered to no-one. Carefully House slid the platinum ring along
Cuddy’s
slender finger until it nestled up under the filigree heart.
Miss Locke held
out her thumb, and Cuddy took the thicker band from off of it. She
lifted
House’s hand up and glided the ring along his third finger,
twisting it over
the knuckle until it sat
on his hand properly. Reverend Palmer then took both
their left hands, sandwiching them
between his own as he spoke.
“Rings are an
outward emblem of an inner promise between a man and wife,”
he
murmured. “A
symbol of vows taken in earnest and promised before God. The value of
them lies
not in the
price of their elements, but in the integrity and love they
represent. Wear them long and well.”
Miss Locke was
softly snuffling in a lace handkerchief;
released his grip and stepped back.
“That’s
it.
You’re married. You can even kiss now, if you’d
like.” He teased very gently.
For a
moment no one moved; then both House and Cuddy surged towards each
other,
sliding into a
good deep smooch that left
“Wonderful. Now let’s move because I’m standing in the water.”
Everyone in the
wedding party glanced down at the incoming waves, and hastily moved
further
up
the beach. Archie barked excitedly, and
dry sand as Cuddy drew in a deep
breath. House looked at her for a long moment, his
expression unreadable.
“Okay you
two—“
phone. Cuddy snorted, and
made a face at
“There—that
ought to confuse her—“ he commented. Archie wagged
his tail
and gave
permission
for another photo. Cuddy snatched the phone and thrusting it up,
snapped a
picture
of House.
“Hey!” he protested, “Not in the face!”
House pulled the phone away only to see a
half shot of himself, scowling with flared nostrils.
“Wow, I think
you really captured the tenderness of this moment,”
a keeper.”
“One for the
album,” Cuddy commented with a grin at House. He gave a
darkly
lecherous
glance
back.
“Two can play at the camera game, She-Bride, and you have to sleep SOME time.”
*** *** ***
The waiting area
at the airport was crowded; filled with holiday travelers from all over
the
Eastern Seaboard. Cuddy watched as
amused look. He shook his head ever so
slightly.
“Mrs. House—that is going to take a hell of a lot of getting used, to, Leese.”
“No it’s
not.
This is a personal matter, not a public one. I’m not about to
run
up and down
the
halls of the hospital announcing my change of status, and I’d
prefer you
didn’t either,” she
warned him.
“Don’t
bother,
I’ve already gotten the “Don’t
tell” ultimatum
from Greg. I CAN keep a secret,
although honestly I don’t see this one lasting very long. The
two
of you ARE
wearing wedding rings—even someone like Chase is going to
pick up
on that.”
“I don’t
know—“
Cuddy looked at her hand thoughtfully. “My bands blend
together,
and the heart
is just unique enough to not LOOK like part of a wedding
set,”
she argued
gently.
worried about Stacy’s reaction.”
Cuddy pursed her
mouth for a moment, her gaze tinged with regret and pride. She
shrugged. “I
won’t lie—not directly. But there are lots of ways
to get
out of answering a
question, Jimmy,
and you know it. Hell, in our profession it’s practically a
way of life.”
wishing the plastic seats were more comfortable
and spoke once more. “There’s no rush for
any of it. I’m not changing my name
on any hospital paperwork, neither one of us is
moving—“
“So why get
married at all?”
have a private love
affair why even bother with the formalities? And don’t tell
me it
was for the investors,
Leese--a civil wedding would have appeased Hinoshu just fine. Why marry
Greg if
you want to keep the status quo at work?”
Cuddy was silent
for a long moment, then lifted her chin in the stubbornly beautiful
manner she
always did when facing the truth. “Because . . .
it’s
the thing we want
to give each other. The
one thing we’ve each been afraid of, but now want. A
bond, Jimmy. A tangible one that Greg
and I have chosen to make because . . .”
she gave a sigh, soulful and bewildered, “we fit.”
hugged her, planting a quick kiss on her
cheek and hugged her again. “Mazel tov. I’ll see
the
two of you back by
Wednesday, right?”
“We’ll be there.”
*** *** ***
By the time she
got back, the sun had set, and House had turned on the gas fireplace.
He sat
on
the sofa, bare feet propped on the coffee table, reading his Christmas
gift.
Cuddy walked in
and set her purse down, looking over at him.
“Hey.”
“Hey.
to Doctor
Mansfield?”
“Not as far as I
could tell. So—“ she looked around the tiny
kitchen. On the
counter, the
portions of groom and bride cake sat together. Exasperated, she noticed
one was
open.
“You’ve been eating the wrong dessert.”
“Oh
contraire—grooms always eat brides on the wedding
night,”
House replied
loftily. “A
practice I thoroughly approve of. In fact—“ he
slowly
closed his
book and beckoned her with
one hand, “—I think a demonstration is in
order.”
Cuddy ambled
over and took his outstretched hand, touching the band along his left
finger.
“You can’t wear this at work. You know
that.”
“I can and I
will,” House stubbornly insisted, his eyes taking on a gleam
of
defiance. “Come
on, Evil Princess—what right-thinking person in all of
Princeton-Plainsboro is
going to believe
that anyone would marry a bitter, anti-social sarcastic,
petty-minded, untrustworthy son of a
bitch like me anyway?”
Cuddy looked at him, her eyes soft and dark in the fire’s glow. “You have a point.”
House’s mouth
twisted a bit and he pulled her down onto the sofa, into his lap as he
mumbled
into her hair. “Okay, you were SUPPOSED to take the
counterargument there,
She-beast, and
tell me how all the women will gossip and wonder at who is
receiving the bounty of my sexual expertise.”
“Greg,” Cuddy sighed, “Let’s eat cake.”
tbc
(Feedback
requested, very humbly.)
