Down the Rabbit hole

*** So, once again it seems I must apologize for my lack of updating. I really must do so now, because i've actually had this section finished for quite some time. I just now realized that the last part of my story was far too long to be only one chapter, so I decided to break it up, much to your reading pleasure. In case you were unable to infer, I will soon be finished with my little Huddy romance, and I do believe that you will find it to your liking. As we speaking I am running over details of how to conclude in my head, so, with any luck, I should have the last chapter up by the end of the month. I hope to hear from all of you that have read and enjoyed my story, and HAPPY HOLIDAYS ^_^***

Cuddy woke the next morning to the grating sound of the alarm clock. She had to be at the conference in an hour. Images of what was to come flitted through her mind as she sat up groggily in bed. Stuffy doctors congratulating each other on how wonderfully the hospital was doing, speeches and seminars that honestly could have been sent in an email and weren't completely necessary, a pointless award ceremony that was a custom for the hospital, and then, of course, the reception, where the same said bunch of stuffy doctors would spend all night getting needlessly drunk.

The thought made her shudder as she envisioned some of her older colleagues attempting to grope her ass as they got heavily sedated. She would just have to stay close to friends tonight, she figured. Wilson was going to be there. He was always a comfort. So would Cameron and Chase, but they might be a little more preoccupied with each other... still they would be a comfort. Foreman, Thirteen, Taub, Cutner. They'd all be there for her as she got through the night. And, of course, House could always liven a... House.

The memories of the night before came back to her like a ton of bricks as she stepped into the shower. The warm water washed over her face negating the warm salty water that had begun to stream from her eyes. She wanted to believe him, she truly did, but sometimes the promise of pain outweighs the promise of pleasure... even if there was an exceedingly strong chance for pleasure.

She let the warm water wash away the ache she felt in the pit of her stomach that had managed to spread through her arms, legs, and up to her head which seemed to cause the pesky burning sensation in her eyes. As she finally stepped out of the shower and began to dry herself off, she looked in the mirror. Her eyes were red. She looked paler than normal.

'I've got to be strong enough' she thought to herself. 'I can't show this weakness'. It hurt her even more as she slowly but surely finished her morning ritual. Put on clothes, brush teeth, do hair, put on make-up. She knew that as a woman she couldn't show the secrets of her heart.

A broken heart was a sign of weakness, and a woman could never be weak. She already had a bad reputation for being fickle. To publicly show weakness would surely put her in front of the metaphorical firing squad that was her competitors, people chomping at the bit to get her job.

'No,' she thought to herself as she applied the last bit of concealer 'a woman's heart contains many scars, many hurts that could never be shown, that could never be revealed. This is just one more for me to bear.'

The woman who stared back at her from the mirror was warm, and inviting. A powerhouse of personality and charisma. The woman smiled her charming smile and turned toward the door. The woman walked out of the hotel room with confidence in her step. Only Cuddy was able to see how badly that woman's hands were shaking from inner pain.

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The unopened bottle of bourbon sat on the table in front of him. He had bought it last night immediately after he had left Cuddy's room, intending to drink it's entirety and blocking out the incidents of last night. However, after about 3 hours of consistent staring at the glass work and the intimate details of the black label, he had left the bottle in peace and simply fallen asleep.

He had woken a few hours ago feeling as if he had, in fact, consumed the entirety of its contents, however. So here he sat. Wondering why he felt like he was having the worst hangover of his life, when the proof that he hadn't had a drop sat blatantly in front of him... mocking him.

'I shoulda just drank the damn thing...' he grumbled to himself.

He'd never felt quite this shitty before. It'd been pretty bad when Stacy had left him, but he had expected that... had deserved that. Did he deserve this? To be judged before he had even had a chance? House let his thoughts drift back to the bottle as he felt the signature self-loathing begin to creep back up his spine. Perhaps, he did deserve this.

The only thing he had ever shown Cuddy was his sarcasm, his inability to be serious, and of course she knew how bitter his spite and anger could be. House hung his head as he realized what he had done. He snorted as he realized that, despite his best efforts, he had managed to get close to someone... but had still succeeded in pushing them away.

He barely turned his head when he recognized the familiar sound of a keycard being put into the door. He prepared himself for the lecture as Wilson stepped through the door.

"House! Why aren't you ready?! I thought you said you would be downstair 45 minutes ago!" Came the familiar berating of his old friend.

"Yeah, yeah, i'll be down in 10 minutes." retorted House half-heartedly

"Like hell you will!" stormed Wilson angrily. He'd had more than enough of House's crap this weekend. It was time for him to get his shit together and either make a move on Cuddy or shut up.

"I know you're just going to sit here and self-destruct all day just because you got turned down by a girl. BOO HOO!!! Man up, puss. Either do something about it, or don't. There's no use in dragging everyone around you down, too." And with that, Wilson stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

House stared after him for a few moments before his eyes returned to the bottle. Do something about it or shut up, eh? Wilson was right... he normally was, although House hated to admit it. But what could he do? Would he simply roll over and take this? Would he let Cuddy walk away?

House's eyes narrowed. He stood up using the support of his cane, and grabbed the bottle off the table. House smirked to himself as he limped over to the bathroom and tossed the unopened bottle into the trash. After all, he had never been one to take no for an answer.
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Thirteen ran her finger down the perspiring glass. She sat in her lovely evening dress with her legs crossed on the stool by the bar. The room was abuzz with doctors from all over the northeast, and she had determined quite quickly that the bar was the place for her to wait out the rest of this ridiculous night.

Her eyes traveled across the dance floor which was littered with overly watered older people trying to relive their glory days and settled on the open ballroom door. There, her eyes were met with the image of a rather irritated yet well groomed Wilson. She watched as he scanned the room, and she couldn't help but feel a small pang of pleasure when his eyes settled on her.

He nodded his head in recognition and began to make his way across the room to where she sat. She realized suddenly as he worked his way through the crowd, that she had unconsciously begun to smooth out her dress. 'That's not a good thing' she thought to herself.

Wilson stormed to her side and demanded a scotch from the bartender before he turned around drink in hand. She watched as he took a few measured sips and looked around the room. "My, aren't we a bright ray of sunshine today?" She asked pleasantly. He sighed and set the now empty glass back down on the bar.

"I'm giving up on them, Thirteen." He said slowly. "I've tried all I can, but I know better than most that you can't help those who refuse to help themselves." Thirteen watched his eyes as they lowered to the floor. It was such a shame. Of course she understood Cuddy's position. Could House really be trusted not to use her? She pondered that inevitable question that everyone faces when they enter into a relationship, and with a look around the room, she decided that no one could ever be entirely sure that they wouldn't get hurt in a relationship. 'Still,' she thought as she looked at the man that sat beside her 'sometimes you just have to take a blind leap of faith in life.'

Wilson turned to see Thirteen smiling warmly at him. He couldn't be sure if it was the liquor kicking in, but suddenly he felt a warmth spreading from his stomach. The couple sat smiling gently at each other, oblivious to the woman who had just walked through the ballroom doors.

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Her demeanor was perfect. Her smile was genuine. Her look was gorgeous. Any onlooker would have determined that she was the powerful, confident, dean of medicine that she was, but inside she was torn.

Part of her wanted to cry as she scanned the room and didn't see the characteristic cane and limp that had become so much a part of her that she could have sensed it from across the room. The other part of her wanted to scream at the first for longing for him.

She made her way into the throng of people, mingling with the stereotypical old doctors, each of which seemed to have already found their way to the open bar. She smiled at each of them, shook their hands warmly and thanked them for coming, all the while trying to force images of burning blue eyes on her face, and warm lips covered with scruff on her own out of her muddled head.

The night was able to go on in this way. Anyone who truly knew Cuddy would have been able to detect how her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, how her conversation was a little slow, and how she constantly seemed to be looking at the door, but all of her work colleagues seemed to fined great pleasure in the satisfying creature who was entertaining them.

Her current dance occupant happened to be the squat, pompous, old chairman of the committee which had hosted tonight's evening, Dr. Selgan. He was shorter than her, reeked of whiskey, and seemed to take delight in stepping on Cuddy's toes, both literally and metaphorically.

"Well," the lecherous old pervert wheezed as he talked to Cuddy's chest instead of her eyes. "It seems that you have done quite well for yourself in that little hospital of yours."

Cuddy nodded with her polite smile, even as she moved to avoid her already sore feet any more abuse. "Yes, thank you. However, it's mainly because of my wonderful team of skilled doctors that the hospital has done so well. I merely keep the books." She said with a light smile, as she desperately attempted to block out the memory of one of her doctors in particular. The way his hands had slid up her thigh, making her breath shudder and her body beg for things that she had only ever dreamed of.

The little toad responded with a throaty croak of laughter. "Hmm, yes, of course I meant complements to the REAL doctors of your hospital. I am an understanding man when it comes to you women in a position of power." He said with a smirk, and winked. "Behind every woman is a good man, eh?"

Cuddy's smile might have been chiseled out of the very ice that surrounded the building.

Selgan continued on, unaware of his quarries perturbation. "And who might your man be, Ms. Cuddy? Perhaps it's that rapscallion, House? Or maybe..." he said with a sweaty hunger in his voice that gave Cuddy a twist of disgust in her stomach, "you are still in need of a... man's touch?"

As he spoke his hand that had been on her lower back began to travel south. Cuddy stopped the dance in disgust with every intention of slapping the disgusting pervert when Selgan looked behind her in surprise and alarm. Cuddy felt the hand on her back move away violently. When she turned to see what had happened, her breath caught in her throat.

House was there, with the man's hand crushing in one first and his cane and other arm wrapped protectively around Cuddy. The look he gave Selgan almost made her feel sorry for the man... almost. Try as she might, Cuddy couldn't help herself from studying House's tensed features. His carved jaw was taught with anger, his steel blue eyes dangerously narrowed, and his brow was furrowed in a look that would have sent any demon straight back to hell.

"Any man that would question Dr. Cuddy's ability to run our hospital completely on her own is a damn fool, but you seem to have won yourself a more impressive title, Selgan," House said with a lethal sneer, "you have been awarded the title of perverted old idiot."

Selgan stuttered stupidly as he began to sweat profusely. Cuddy saw House's teeth clench from underneath his warm arm which was causing traitorous emotions to well up in her stomach, emotions she had spent all morning trying to smother... it seemed to no avail. If House's eyes could burn, Selgan would be on fire, and the poor dwarf of a man knew it.

The lecherous fool took a step back and eyed the door obviously assessing his chances of escape. His eyes met with the gruff doctor's again. Cuddy heard House breath in a tense warning, "go...". Selgan stiffened, his face now bright red with sweat and embarrassment, turned and walked away.

As Cuddy felt House begin to slowly relax as he watched the old pervert walk away, she became acutely aware of a new danger, one which she had been trying to prevent all night. It seemed she had given up an unknown enemy for a known torture.

His eyes finally turned toward hers and they softened into a gentle smile that somehow did more to her than even his smirk did. It gave unspoken promises of a love that she wouldn't let herself dare to wish for, of a future that she was trying to squash, and of pleasure that she had only tasted. She knew that if she would only let herself, if she would only let her mouth speak the words, he would pull her away into that dark abyss that she feared so desperately.

As if catching himself, House's characteristic smirk reappeared on his glorious face. "I leave you alone for a second and you seem to have found yourself in a... touchy situation?"

"Yes, well," she said rather flustered as his arm remained firmly around her, "I'll say nothing for my luck, but you have no need to blame yourself for not being here to save me. That isn't your job, House." His smirk disappeared from his face as one of concern and deep thought replaced it. His eyes seemed to glow as he looked at her deeply, as if he was studying her every feature so as to never for get them. "It should be..." he whispered so delicately that he had to lean in to where their faces where a hair's breadth apart.

Cuddy turned her face, frantically trying to hide the tell tale color that had risen to her cheek. Everything bad inside her cried out in assent, but her logical nature was still screaming out warnings. She just couldn't risk falling into his rabbit hole. She had said so from the beginning. When there was no idea what was on the other side, the risk simply outweighed the reward... or at least she kept telling herself.

The dean of medicine wiggled in his arms, trying to free herself. "House... please..." she said nearly as quietly. Her attempt at escape only had the affect of making him tighten his grasp. "Cuddy, I'm not going to try anything again, but I need to talk to you." She stopped moving for a moment and looked into his eyes. They spoke of nothing but honesty. They seemed desperate to be heard, for her to hear him. The people around them had begun to murmur, as they stood in such an intimate embrace. She hesitated.

He put his palm to the side of her face... and begged. "Please, Cuddy, just one dance." He smiled lightly, "I promise not to do anything, untoward, m'lady." She sighed, and nodded. It wasn't like she had a strong record of being able to resist him. She watched as the genuine smile he had worn earlier returned to his face, making him look like a giddy high school kid whom she had just agreed to go to the prom with.

She couldn't help the small heart flutter as he released his grip, and let one hand graze intoxicatingly down her bare back and came to rest in the proper dance placement. He held out his other hand for her to grasp. She could only comply in stunned silence as he looked at her as if she was some sort of precious gift, and he wanted to cherish every second he was given with her.

On cue, the music began playing in a slow waltz. He moved with a grace that should have been difficult for someone with his disability. They stayed in a small space so he didn't have to move a great distance, but he was able to dance with the best on that floor.

Cuddy turned her gaze away from his face. She didn't trust herself to make a sound judgement when she was looking into those sea storm eyes. "What do you want, House?" She asked with as much detachment as she could muster.

He seemed to assess her query for a moment before responding confidently and earnestly. "To be near you."

She turned to look at him. He still had that smile on his face. That look that made her heart want to melt into his, apparently, very skilled and gentle hands. She looked down, hopelessly trying to avert her attention from his persuasive eyes, wildly trying to regain her footing. "House, please..."

He interrupted her lightly. "Cuddy, I'm not asking what I asked last night. I'm telling you. I'm not giving up. I know that you can't take me as I am now," he lowered his eyes slowly so that they were level with her own, "but in time, you'll realize that I will be your rock. I'll be whatever you need me to be, Cuddy."

Her eyes began to well with tears as he gently pressed his cheek to the side of her face, whispering in her ear. "I'll be a father to you, if that's what you need, giving you guidance." He rubbed her back gently as he continued, "I'll be your brother, someone to love you unconditionally. I'll be your friend when no one is there to see you cry, and one day, when you need me." He pulled his face back to barely a whisper from her lips, "I'll be your lover, but I can't leave you, Cuddy, you've stolen my heart, and I'm yours."

Tears were running down her face as he looked at her. He wiped one of the tears away with a thumb as he cupped her face in his hand. They had stopped dancing. Cuddy couldn't be sure if there were people in the room anymore or not, there didn't seem to be any music, but that could have been a trick. All she knew was that his lips were right in front of hers, tempting her with their sweet delights.

She knew she should have kneed George Selgan in the balls as his toad like croak of a voice came threw the microphone on the stage.