Down the Rabbit hole

*** Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate how many people have read this story. It's my first, so i'm very grateful for the comments. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. I know my grammar sucks (I promise I passed ENGL 1101), but look on the bright side, I DECIDED TO USE QUOTE MARKS!! YAY!! ^_^ So I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Chapter 4 should come soon after***

A week later, House had made sufficient enough progress to be sent home for a couple of days. His skull was still cracked and his concussion hadn’t gone away completely, but they had felt confident that he would be in no danger in his own home. Well, at least his home wouldn’t be any danger to him. Whether or not he would be an idiotic danger to himself was yet to be decided. So, true to form, Cuddy had assigned yet another private nurse to House.

House was convinced that if the last nurse had been an embarrassing pain in the ass, then this one was nothing short of a suppository. He had to sneak into the bathroom every time he wanted to pop a Vicodin. He would feign a stomach ache just so he wouldn’t have to eat her terrible cooking, and would sneak Chinese take-out in the middle of the night. Worst of all, she would scream like a banshee if she even got a whiff of him making a phone call to his team.

His team had been on a new case for the last week, and he had done everything from hiding in his closet under 10 blankets in the middle of the night, to flat out running down the street trying to get away from her while he talked on the cell phone. When she finally had enough and took the cell phone away from him, House decided to stop being Mr. Nice Guy, two could play this annoying game…

****
Cuddy had been working on some salaries paperwork when her phone rang.

“Lisa Cuddy, how can I help you?” She answered in her best business tone.

“Dr. Cuddy? This is Maria Strikes, the private nurse you assigned to Dr…” “Is that Cuddy? Let me speak to her!”

Cuddy’s attention was finally turned away from her work as she heard the familiar male voice in the phone.

“I said, NO!!” came the agitated female voice. “Look, just because you have no friends, doesn’t mean you get to hog all of mine. Now give me the phone!!”

She could hear the mic of the phone being brushed and moved around. She could almost see the childish tussle erupting between the two. Cuddy had assigned Strikes because she knew her to be a level headed woman and a good nurse, but House had the unnatural ability to bring out the worst, most juvenile instinct in anybody. She had been a victim herself on more than one occasion.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping!” “Well, you’re supposed to be lacking in facial hair, being a woman and all, but I don’t judge. You should learn to do the same!”

Cuddy pulled the receiver away from her ear as an ear splitting shriek erupted from the other line.

“Cuddy! You’ve left me with a banshee!! You can’t do this to me!” Cuddy held a hand up to her face as she tried to hide a smile. “She can’t do this to YOU? Oh, because you’re in so much hurt over here.” “Would you kindly shut your excessively overstuffed PIE HOLE and tell Cuddy that I would rather have my old nurse back?”

Cuddy snickered before saying “Mrs. Strikes, if you would inform Dr. House that I was, in fact, his last nurse, I would greatly appreciate it.” Cuddy almost jumped out of her chair when she heard House’s voice spoken directly into the other line. Strikes had obviously lost the battle.

“You? You call that nursing? Psst, you didn’t even give me a sponge bath. I was really put out, you know?”

Somewhere in the background on House’s end, Cuddy was sure she heard a door slam. She let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, are you happy now, House? It sounds like you have sufficiently run off yet another nurse.”

“Meh, I prefer my nurses to have a little less hair and fat… and substantially fewer clothes. You wouldn’t happen to have any nurses on staff that look like the ones from General Hospital, would you? I could do with a good rub down… I mean sponge bath.”

Cuddy rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, and yes, you are that predictable.”

“I wasn’t rolling my eyes, and no, I’m sorry but we don’t carry that brand of… service at this facility. They do have businesses with that sort of thing, though. I think there’s one on 5th called Boobs, Boobs, Boobs. You should know the place well, I would imagine.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about… unless the place you’re thinking of on 5th is actually called Boobs, Ass, and Titties, then I’m very familiar with it.”

Cuddy began to rub her temples in an attempt to stave off the headache that was building. This may have seemed cute to him, but the game was quickly losing its charm as the reality of the situation hit her.

“House, you do know that we have a rather limited supply of nurses? The strike is barely over, and let us not forget that you have managed to build up a reputation amongst the ones who you have yet to run off. I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to get another one.”

“Oh no! Whatever will I do, Dr. Cuddy? A poor cripple like myself couldn’t possibly take the pressure of living on his own! Who will wipe my ass for me?”

Cuddy saw where this was going. He wanted someone to play with. As juvenile as that sounded, he always had to have some kind of attention. Usually it was Wilson who obliged this need, but with their relationship on the rocks, she had now been given runner-up privileges.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to make due by myself.”

Cuddy let out another sigh.

“…All alone by myself.”

“I don’t know if you could tell, but I was avoiding your obvious plea for attention.”

“You’re right, I’ll be just fine… Hey, by the way, Vicodin mixes well with Cocaine in head trauma cases, right?”

“House!”

“Alright, alright. I promise to be good, and rest… what about bourbon? Does it mix with bourbon?”

*****
House had been at his piano playing a soft jazz tune when the knock on his door came. He smiled to himself before grabbing his cane and heading for the door. It hadn’t taken much prodding to get Cuddy to agree to come over. He didn’t really know why he had done it. Part of him wanted to say it was for the challenge, to see if he could actually get her to do whatever he wanted, part of him just wanted a free meal, but part of him really was looking forward to the company.

He opened the door and was greeted by the sight of Cuddy holding two grocery bags full of food. He didn’t even have time to speak before she thrust the bags in his face and stormed off into the living room. He looked down at his newly acquired packages. They were full of the ingredients for what looked like spaghetti.

“You know, take-out would have worked just fine.”

Cuddy snorted as she took off her jacket and laid it down on the sofa.

“Yeah right, if I had brought take-out, you would have whined the whole night about how I don’t even care about you enough to make you a home cooked meal, and then would have proceeded to tell me all of the harmful effects that take-out contains.”

House shrugged. She had a point. That did sound quite like him.

“On the other hand, you do realize that this meal is going to be scrutinized constantly as you are making it, and while I’m eating it.”

“But I’m willing to bet 10 bucks that you still eat every bite of what I make.”

Again, right on the nose.

“Just so long as you know that you’re in for a rough night… one way or the other.”

He gave her a small suggestive wink, and was pleasantly surprised and intrigued by the small flourish of color that rose in her cheeks.

“And just so long as you know that you are the most incomparable bastard that I’ve ever know, then I think we’re even.”

House hobbled with the bags over to the kitchen.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Dr. Cuddy… skimpy underwear on the other hand…”

She glared at him as he set the bags on the counter. He simply responded with his most innocent smile and moved to the small table to sit down and observe. The stand off lasted for only a few more seconds before Cuddy caved and moved to the bags to begin cooking.

As she did, House couldn’t help but notice the gentle sway of her hips as she moved. They were perfect. She was curved in all the right places, and tight in just the right way. The skirt she wore did wonders for her figure, and accentuated her already glorious back side.

The white blouse she wore was elegant. It was low in the front, but did not make her look like she was trying to reveal too much… despite what he normally implied with her wardrobe. As his eyes traveled over her front, he was rewarded with a glimpse of a white lace push up bra that peeked over the top of the top of her blouse when she moved in just the right way.

He had always found her attractive. There had never been any question about that, but most recently he was finding he wanted to be around her, simply for the company. She was quick. The fact that she seemed to be a willing sparing partner for his wit appealed greatly to his intelligence. She was funny also. He was never far away from a good chuckle when he was around her. But possibly the most fascinating thing about her, which he had only discovered recently, was her trust.

She would trust him to a fault, and that fascinated him more than anything else she had to offer.

“Where are the pots?”

“Hmm?”

“The pots, House. You know, for boiling water, cooking sauce…storing extra pills?”

“Oh, umm, the cabinet under the sink behind you.”

Cuddy turned her back toward him and located the cabinet he was talking about. As she squatted down to retrieve the cooking material, House’s grip on his cane got a little tighter. He smiled as a small glimmer of lacy white fabric peeked out from the top of her skirt. He had always known that she liked to match.

****
She could feel the intent look of his eyes on her as she began to fill the pot with warm water. He had been staring at her keenly from the moment she had begun to prepare the food. She noted that it was a credit to her concentration that she was able to hold the heavy pot without her shaking hands becoming an issue.

“So, then you’re a lesbian now, or what?”

“WHAT!?”

As she turned to stare at him in disbelief, she dropped the pot in the sink, spilling the water.

“Well, I noticed that you haven’t gone out with anyone in the last few months. Now, either you’ve stopped looking, or you’ve started looking for something that I’m not noticing.”

She turned her back to him and retrieved the dropped pot.

"I'm not having this conversation with you, House."

He raised an eyebrow with sudden intrigue.

"Oh, so then you are hiding something from me. What is it? You've decided to undergo that sex change operation you've heard so much about?"

"Gasp! How did you guess?" Cuddy responded sarcastically.

"Fine, then tell me. Why aren't you dating?"

“Did it ever occur to you that the reason I’m not dating is that YOU run off every guy that I get remotely close to?”

As she responded, she set the pot back under the faucet and began to refill it.

“Even guys I’m NOT dating! Remember Wilson? You were so disturbed by the idea of us POSSIBLY dating that you sent fake flowers to him in my name!”

“So he told you about that, did he?” House asked with a quirked eyebrow.

With the pot full, she walked it slowly over to the stove as she spoke.

“So I guess the real question is, why don’t you want me seeing other people, House?”

The question had actually been on her mind for sometime. It was true that she hadn’t gone out with anyone in a rather extended period of time, and it wasn’t because of a lack of offers. Part of what she said was true, she did worry about House messing up another one of her dates if she ever actually accepted one, but she was also worried about House messing things up in a completely different way… a way he was completely unaware of.

House studied her carefully for a moment. She tried her best to look steadfast and resolute in an attempt to not be thrown off of this question. He had dodged it before. This time she would go to almost any measure to make sure it was answered.

He finally gave and idle shrug and answered.

“Probably because if you ever got into a relationship I’d have an angry boyfriend to deal with, instead of just your empty threats of a sexual harassment suit.”

Cuddy sighed as she pulled out a knife, cutting board, and one of the tomatoes she had bought at the market.

“That’s not the answer and you know it, House. Just tell me. I promise I won’t be mad.”

“Fine, it’s actually because I’ll have no one to annoy if you get taken up.”

“House,”

“No? maybe it’s because I think you’ll let yourself go and get fat after you finally land you a man.”

“House!”

“Not buying it? Ok, it’s probably because I have mommy issues and always need somebody around to tell me what I’m doing wrong, and with you gone, I’ll have to turn to Cameron or Thirteen, and you know that won’t go over well.”

“HOUSE!”

“Cuddy what do you want from me!”

“Honesty! It’s the least I’d do for you. I just want you to trust me.”

That silenced him. He sat staring at her. She began to grow more aware of the intensity of his look. His eyes looked like they were about to see right through her. They scanned every part of her face looking for an answer, a response, something. She felt her face go slightly flushed as he continued his study of her. She noticed as his eyes made a slow, subtle progression from her face down her neck, and then lightly over her body. She felt electricity streaking through her as his eyes finally settled back on her own.

As if coming to a decision, he turned his head slightly away as he spoke.

“I guess it’s because I just don’t want you to end up with the wrong guy… that’s all.”

Cuddy was stunned. He was being honest. This was House actually being honest, and not only that, but he seemed to have a deep concern for her. If Cuddy’s face had been pink before, it matched the color of the uncut tomato she was still holding in her hand.

She hurriedly looked down at her project and began to chop the tomato. It gave her something to do, something to focus her mind, and keep her thoughts from going 30 directions at once.

“Well, I appreciate it, House, but I am a big strong girl. I think I can make decisions for myself.”

“Yes, because we’ve all seen how well you’ve gotten along in that department without the help of others.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me that you don’t think that Wilson is a good guy?”

“I think he’s a wonderful guy, but that doesn’t imply he’s the best husband around, now does it?”

“Well, that may be, but some of those guys you didn’t even give a…”

“What are you doing?”

She looked up at him in confusion. He was looking at her chopping. She looked down at her partially chopped tomato.

“… Ummm, well in America, we call this…chopping…a…tomato.”

He rolled his eyes at her sarcasm, and stood up using his cane for support. He made his way to the counter where she stood as he spoke.

“Thank you Captain Obvious, I’m not stupid, but I’ll have you know THAT is not chopping a tomato. That is what I like to call BUTCHERING a tomato.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Look, if I’m going to have to eat your food then I might as well enjoy it. You’re supposed to dice tomatoes for spaghetti, not mush them into a paste.”

“Oh, forgive me your majesty. I forgot that you only eat the caviar and foie gras. I will remember next time to not sully your food with my peasant filth.”

“Don’t be angry because you can’t cook. Here,” he handed her a new tomato. “Start over, try to dice this time.”

She gave him a sardonic look as she did as he requested. After a few chops she was stopped again.

“Stop, STOP!! Pull the blade to you as you cut. Like this.”

He stepped behind her, and grabbed the hand that held the blade. House had grabbed her hand with purpose, but as soon as their skin touched, he slowed. She tried to tell herself his slowed movement was because she was holding a knife, but the measured, slightly labored breath on the side of her neck told her otherwise.
She closed her eyes as he slowly worked her hand. After a few slices, House spoke again, but his voice was low, in a whisper.

“There, I think that’s better… don’t you.”

She could hardly think at all. He had moved in close so as to not lose control of the knife. His chest was grazing her back lightly. His hand was warm and strong as it encircled her own. But his face next to her ear was what was keeping her entranced. His breath was on her neck again. The same way it had been in the hospital ICU, but this time she knew the reaction she felt was more than relief he was out of the coma.

Her body twitched and ached for him to touch her. She could feel herself willing his other hand onto her body. She wanted him to hold her, to feel her, to caress her. She felt his face moving closer to her own. He breathed out slowly onto the side of her neck so gently it feigned its own small caress. She shivered. There was no way she could have known for sure, but she was certain she saw his lips curve into a small smile with the involuntary movement.

She turned her head a fraction to look at him. His lids were low, and his eyes looked on fire behind the bedroom demeanor of his lashes. She had been right. The smile was small, but it was still perched on his lips. He looked breath taking. She almost lost control of her legs as he finally reached his other hand up to her face.

He slowly lifted it and brought it to her hairline where he pushed away a few pieces of her hair in order to get a better look at her face. As his hand finished circling her ear in the final maneuver that pushed back the stray locks, he pulled it slowly back toward her face, tracing her jaw line as he made his way slowly, and surely to her lips….

When the phone rang she thought she had jumped completely out of her skin. He turned from her and made his way to the phone. With the loss of his warmth she felt suddenly cold and bereft. She could have killed whoever was on the other line.

She watched House pick up the phone and mutter a gruff, “Hello?” He suddenly straightened. Cuddy was able to make out the sound of a male voice on the other line before House responded. “…Wilson?”