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i'm sorry, my love
25th-Jan-2008 11:49 pm
Pirate/Sunshine - "There Goes My Baby"

The Rules:
1. Your drabble MUST fit in one comment. (So - 4300 character limit) There is no minimum.
2. You MUST use a subject line to identify your story. SPECIFICALLY RATINGS
"Title" H/C, sneeze, het, NC17

If a drabble is not titled and rated, i will remove it. (Though i'll let you know so that you can re-post.)
3. You have 2 WEEKS to submit drabbles. At the end of the two weeks i will be posting a complete index of all the drabbles posted. So that means, the Drabble-A-Thon finishes on - February 8th.
4. If you have any questions/confusions regarding the drabble-a-thon, please ask them Here. Do not ask them on this post, this is ONLY for posting the drabbles.
5. Drabbles can be ANY rating. You may also apply any rating to whichever prompt you like. (For example, someone may use the prompt; H/C, first date, PG You are entitled to use the same prompt as; H/C, first date, NC17 if you like.)
6. Other pairings are allowed and encouraged as long as your drabble FOCUSES on House/Cuddy. Any drabbles that DO NOT focus on House/Cuddy will be deleted. (Though i don't see why that would happen :P)
7. Most importantly - ANYONE CAN WRITE A DRABBLE!

(Depending on interest, the Drabble-A-Thon may be extended an extra week only. So please, if you want to see this last, keep on writing!)

If you wish to comment on any of the drabbles, feel free to do so. Spread the love, peoples!!

(Note: These are only a guide. You may use outside prompts/ideas/influences - still, please state them in the subject line.)

H/C, first date
H/C, banter
H/C, "caught out"
H/C, "schtupp"
H/C, family
H/C, "you never left my sight"
H/C, fever
H/C, thermometer
H/C, comfort
H/C, grocery store
H/C, fingerpaint
H/C, lost while driving
H/C, playing video games
H/C, drama queen
H/C, puppy
H/C, watch
H/C, bracelet
H/C, dance
H/C, red
H/C, breathe
H/C, dark
H/C, anti-christ
H/C, packing
H/C, breakfast
H/C, gone
H/C, monsters
H/C, hate
H/C, toys
H/C, dawn
H/C, prayer
H/C, jealousy
H/C, fight
H/C, etiquette
H/C, tender
H/C, temptation
H/C, black dress
H/C, sacrifice
H/C, fear
H/C, "stand your ground"
H/C, woman in a man's job
H/C, coffee
H/C, sirens
H/C, burnt toast
H/C, laughter
H/C, honesty
H/C, violence
H/C, respect
H/C, pain
H/C, traditions
H/C, ghosts
H/C, "what do i tell my heart"
H/C, "because the night, belongs to lovers"
H/C, war
H/C, battle
H/C, loyalty
H/C, alliance
H/C, promise
H/C, cookies
H/C, poker face
H/C, god is a woman
H/C, rain
H/C, people are stupid
H/C, lost
H/C, read
H/C, smile a little
H/C, broken
H/C, moving
H/C, believe
H/C, "everybody loves"

Other characters:
CTB (aka. Amber)
(Basically any secondary characters are fair game.)

(If including all of House's underlings, please use "Ducklings" in your subject line.)

If you write a drabble or you simply think this is a cool idea, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE promote it wherever you can!! I hope to get a BIG list of drabbles by the end of the 2 weeks!!

Anyways, enough from me, HAPPY DRABBLING!!

25th-Jan-2008 02:54 pm (UTC) - "Patch Adams" H/C, smile a little, PG-13
I thought i'd get the ball rolling.

"Why don't you just smile a little?" Cuddy asked, her hands pressed against the hard wooden surface of her desk, mouth twisted in a smirk as House watched her intently from his place across the room, one foot - his right - perched on her varnished coffee table.

"Why don't you wear higher cut tops?" He answered her question with a question, as if she hadn't expected it.

"This isn't about me, House." Her smirk was widening and his apprehension grew with it.

"Why do you even care, it's not like you make me smile." He threw her a long, sideways glance and watched out of the corner of his eye, as she stood slowly from her desk and stepped around it.

"Oh, I don't?" She walked across the room, one blood-red stiletto at a time.

"Not a chance, you'd have to actually do something worth smiling about first. I don't see that happening," He paused and turned to face her completely. "-unless of course, we close those blinds." He winked and when Cuddy actually looked up at the glass doors of her office and studied the blinds above, his throat constricted.

"You want to have sex in my office?" She scoffed as if the very thought was preposterous. In all honesty it was, and he knew it, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"We don't have to have sex, though all actions leading up to sex aren't completely out of the question. There are alot of things we could do, without having sex." He waggled his eyebrows and Cuddy stared at him.

"I can't beleive I'm having this conversation with you." Cuddy rolled her eyes, sitting down on the coffee table in front of him.

"You started it, Party-pants." He smirked.

Resting her chin on her hand she smiled, widely. This was the House that she loved. She'd never tell him, but these games that they played, this back and forth that they seemed to have mastered in their very long - so called - friendship.

"You know I'm not asking you to be Patch Adams or anything, I know that's not you, but would it hurt to smile?"

House sobered just a little, studying her face with an intensity she'd only seen a few times before, the number of which she could count on her fingers and recall with startling clarity.

"I smile." He said softly, meeting her eyes quietly, longingly, as a small smile played at his lips.
25th-Jan-2008 03:07 pm (UTC) - Re: "Patch Adams" H/C, smile a little, PG-13
(I hope we're allowed to comment on the drabbles here. If not, please delete, but...)

Great way to start things off! I loved your softer side of House. :)
25th-Jan-2008 03:18 pm (UTC) - "Veni, Vaggy, Vici" H/C/W, family, PG-13
(A/N: I actually wrote this a few days ago, when I first read mention of the drabble-a-thon... I'd never written one before and thought I should find out if I could. Anyway, I hope it's okay I posted it here, since this was the event that inspired it. 100 even, not including title.)

"Are you going to be okay with this?"

"Absolutely," Wilson insisted, nodding furiously. "That's... great."

"I want you to know, it wasn't something I planned."

"Absolutely," he said again. More nods. "Really... great."

Cuddy thought he looked dazed. Or deranged. Part of her still couldn't believe this was the man who would probably end up the primary male influence in her child's life.

"It was just..." She shrugged, too embarrassed by the details to go into them. "One of those things."

"I came, I spawned, I conquered," the third party at their table chimed in.

"Shut up, House!" Cuddy snarled.
25th-Jan-2008 03:26 pm (UTC) - Re: "Veni, Vaggy, Vici" H/C/W, family, PG-13
That's great, and very cute. They're dynamic is fun.
25th-Jan-2008 03:47 pm (UTC) - H/C - smile a little
When she thought of how he lied and manipulated her… for the sake of saving a life, she couldn’t help but

smile a little.

When she remembered the time he made her feel inadequate by criticizing her donor choices… because he knew they weren’t good enough for her, she couldn’t help but

smile a little.

When she got so damn frustrated with his logic… and the fact that he was always right, she couldn’t help but

smile a little.

When she felt her privacy was invaded… but found it was only because he cared, she couldn’t help but

smile a little.

Every time she thought about letting him go, he’d go and do something that would cause her to

smile a little.

"Damn him," she thought, as she snapped her rubber band... and smiled a little.
25th-Jan-2008 03:51 pm (UTC) - Re: H/C - smile a little
Awww. You just made me smile. Not quite a little, rather a lot. :)
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26th-Jan-2008 04:51 pm (UTC) - Re: "Restraint Aftermath" H/C, break, PG-13
Nice last line! I really like your story!
25th-Jan-2008 06:02 pm (UTC) - "first light" H/C, dawn, PG-13
She wakes with the dawn, red-gold spreading across the sky until the colours shift and change and the real world starts again.

It's her favourite time of day, because it's hers - no phone calls, no doctors, no patients, no responsibilities. Just the cool, new light of morning and the pavement beneath her feet as she measures her breaths and strides and prepares for the battles ahead.

- - -

Blue and grey and charcoal are the colours of his sky.

He hasn't seen daybreak in years... at least, not voluntarily.

Most of the time, in the pitch quiet of night, the buttery lamplight bathing his bed and his room and his fingers trailing across the piano, he can almost forget the erratic pulse in his thigh.

But the last time he remembers a sunrise was from having stayed up all night, when he couldn't forget, however hard he tried, and all he could do was clutch an empty pill bottle as the blood-red light crept through the window and across his floor.

- - -

These days, he wakes with the dawn, though he doesn't tell her so.

He keeps his breathing even, his eyes shut, even as she sighs awake and shifts in his arms.

She is careful when she finally gets up, careful when she gently moves his hand from her hip, careful to lightly press her lips to his forehead before she disappears into the bathroom.

He smiles, opens his eyes, and watches her go. She might turn him into a morning person yet.
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25th-Jan-2008 06:06 pm (UTC) - "3 Words" H/C "everybody loves" PG-13
(This is my second attempt at writing, so please be kind :) )

"This is not going to work."

"The threesome with nurse Brenda? but I thought you've gotten over the fact that she's a woman."

Quickly he noticed that this time she was serious. She didn't evrn give the usual eye roll.

"I mean it." She said softly, her eyes starting to shine from tears. But she didn't cry. Lisa Cuddy never cries in front of him, it would mean that they are more than they really are, and they didn't get there yet, and probably never will.
He just looked at her, not yet sure exactly what to say. He just got over Stacy, he couldn't go through this again.

"I'm sorry," she continued. "I need more than that. More than the daily banter, the boobs/ass jokes and the occasional sleep over. I want someone who'll care for me, be interested in me... you can't even tell me that you love me."

After a few moments of silence she turned to the door.

"Cuddy," she stopped. "I love you."
25th-Jan-2008 08:41 pm (UTC) - Re: "3 Words" H/C "everybody loves" PG-13
OOooo Very good!
25th-Jan-2008 07:19 pm (UTC) - "not a date" H/C, black dress, PG-13
“Didn’t I tell you to wear something pretty?“

Cuddy rolls her eyes, pushing the elevator button a lot more forcefully than she intended to. “I don’t see how my outfit is any of your business, House.”

He walks around her in a semi-circle, examining her with his eyes like she is a new car. “At least your boobs do look good in it. Have they always been this big? I think they look bigger than usual.”

Instead of honouring him with a reply, she smoothes the black dress she bought specifically for the evening with both hands and steps into the elevator, her heels clicking against the hospital floor. He follows her quickly, waiting until the doors close behind them.

“You know, people will expect me to show up with a hooker. I was hoping to disappoint them tonight by going with you. But if you’re gonna look like this-“

“House.” She turns to face him, torn between annoyance and amusement. “This is not a date. We’re not ‘going together.’”

“Oh.” He looks at her in fake surprise. “So your car is already back from inspection?”

She always finds that in his presence, the constant urge to bash her head against the nearest solid object – in this case the elevator wall – is especially hard to resist. Tonight, she knows, it is absolutely possible she’ll end up with a serious concussion. “Listen, you don’t have to give me a lift to Wilson’s birthday party. I can ask someone else. Or call a taxi.”

“Wow.” He shakes his head. “You’re cranky. Sounds like someone needs cheering up. What do you say, we skip the party and go have some real fun? Dinner, a romantic movie, a walk through the exhaust fumes of evening rush hour…Sex is absolutely optional, but if you insist…”

The elevator doors open and she starts walking, he hurries after her, trying to catch up. “We can skip right to the sex, if you want. My car is parked outside,” he yells through the lobby.

“Oh my…” She spins around, more out of reflex than actual anger. “You’re heading straight for twenty hours of extra clinic duty.”

Taking a step back he lets out an overly dramatic sigh. “God, I have no control over myself. Must be because of the way your ass looks in that dress. Are you wearing underwear? No, don’t tell me.” He raises a hand as if to cut her off. “It will be much more fun to find out for myself later on. Damn it.” The amusement is obvious on his face. “I did it again. I guess you’ll have to fire me. You know, sexual harassment and all that.”

“You know, one day I might,” she tells him. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Who me? I would never do that. Besides,” he says, walking past her. “You won’t fire me. You like me.”

She shakes her head slowly. “See, even you can be wrong sometimes,” she calls after him, unable to suppress the grin that spreads across her face when she means to put on a stern look. He has that effect on her sometimes.
25th-Jan-2008 11:58 pm (UTC) - Re: "not a date" H/C, black dress, PG-13
Awwwww! I love it. It's amazing that she really does let him get away with harrassing her like that. proof really that it's light-hearted and deep-down she likes it, lol.
26th-Jan-2008 12:23 am (UTC) - "Victory" H/C, war, PG
The sound of her heels clattering up the hallway. The way, if the hall was just occupied by a bear few, he could hear her coming all the way from the elevator even with the glass door closed, was like british bugles calling troops to battle.

The closer she got the louder the beat. The faster she walked the faster his heart pounded in his chest.

On the outside, all his ducklings saw was that he'd gone silent, not such a rare occurance. He stood still, staring at a small patch in the carpet as the 'click click click' of his impending doom drew nearer and nearer.

She wanted a war, he'd give her a war.

With three confused expressions at his back, he strode through the adjoining door and stood in wait in the centre of the room. She would come here first, he knew it. It was rare that she went straight for the break room, considering the ducklings were hardly ever her reason for coming all the way up here with anger in her stride.

His heart-beat in time with her heals getting closer, faster, was like the sound of drums beating, pounding, louder making his ears ache for just a little bit more. When he saw her closing in, he watched intently as her feet slowed, as her hand came out to the door handle and like it were an old black and white movie, the action of opening the door, slowed down to it's most agonizing pace.

He watched her, enthralled, as her body moved like a gentle breeze through the door and her hips bounced so enticingly with every step.

A war is what she wanted, a war is what she would get.

He just wouldn't ever tell her that her mere prescence had already made her the victor.
26th-Jan-2008 12:40 pm (UTC) - Re: "Victory" H/C, war, PG
Awesome drabble. I love the last line. :D :D
26th-Jan-2008 01:09 am (UTC) - "Behave" H/C, banter, het, PG13
“House, I am so sick of you causing problems for me. If I get one more complaint, I am going to double your clinic hours.”

“You didn’t seem to think so last night. You also called me Greg as I recall.”

“That was not at work, you moron. Just because I’m sleeping with you doesn’t mean I plan on putting up with your behavior.”

“You're no fun, Mom.”

“That is so not the way to get me to come over again tonight.”

“That’s fine. It is your turn anyway.”

“Nope. That isn’t the way it works. Now that I know you are interested, you are going to be doing things my way.”

“Oh, so you didn’t enjoy it too?”

“That isn’t the point, House. I need you to start doing your job. No more pointless tests. No more annoying patients just because you feel like it. No more harassing the female nurses.”

“Is Cuddy getting jealous? If I do that, I’d just have to harass you more. Then everyone would catch on that I’m sleeping with the boss. Everyone would want some, and I’m just not willing to share.”

“I give up. You are giving me three extra clinic hours, though. You’d better show up.”

"What do I get out of it? Are you going to wear that red thong for me tonight?"

"Play your cards right, and we'll see. Maybe I won't wear any at all. From that expression on your face, I think I may have just found the way to get you to behave."
26th-Jan-2008 02:19 pm (UTC) - Re: "Behave" H/C, banter, het, PG13
*dies of LOL*

OH MY GOD. That last line...amazing! :D

Great job!
26th-Jan-2008 02:18 am (UTC) - "It Broke!!!" H/C, PREGNANT, NC-17
"OH MY GOD! It's a plus, sign, it's a plus sign,that means what I thinks it means right?!" she was ecstatic, elated, TERRIFIED!

"What was it your profession was again? Oh yeah Doctor, you think you'd know what a plus sign meant!" he smirked as she slapped his arm.

She was amazed he wasn't more reactive, or pissed really. It's not like she'd planned it that way. She hadn't planned on having sex in the backseat of her Jag either but they were just drunk and the tension, oooo boy the thought of that night sent shivers down her spine as she recalled it...


"House, stop following me, I'll be fine" she called out to him as he tried to catch up with her drunken self.

"Cuddy, you're in no condition to drive" he said as he took her by her shoulder and spun her around till he was leaning his body weight against her and the car, and at that moment she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and fervently kissed him.

At that moment he was more than happy to oblige the drunk Dean of Medicine, the tension is always there, the need, and yet he still couldn't believe how well she knew how to use that beautiful mouth of hers.

In a sweeping motion he grabbed her keys unlocked the door to the cars backseat, all without breaking the kiss, and shuffled her inside, glad that she always parked in the most deserted area of the parking garage. He sat back in the seat and she proceeded to straddle his lap, trying her best not to hurt his leg. She toyed with his zipper while staring him straight in the eyes, there was no question this was about to happen.

"Condom?" she asked, and he went to retrieve one he had had for such an occasion, she then slipped it from his hand and slowly rolled it down his already hard shaft, then he let out a gasp of pleasure that made her position herself over him. Ever so slowly she lowered herself, taking him all in, and they both matched each others moans while they found a rhythm together. He kissed her bare neck, glad she wore such a revealing dress to the benefit that night and tickled her throat with his stubble, she'd have evidence of the night tomorrow and that made him even more excited as he sped up the pace and he could tell she was close.

She leaned in close to his ear as she came, and whispered "If we had babies they'd have the bluest eyes" and then her orgasm rolled through her and she gripped down tight on him as he thrust harder at her words. In another lifetime he thought, but he still whispered back "We would..." and then his orgasm took over and they collapsed in a heap on her back seat.

It was when they parted that he realized, "It Broke!!!"

(End of flashback)

"Well, I guess I'll put money down on it having 'the bluest eyes'!" he said with a smirk, as she threw the test at him, and turned her back to walk into the bathroom. She too had a smirk on her face!

26th-Jan-2008 02:54 am (UTC) - Re: "It Broke!!!" H/C, PREGNANT, NC-17
LOL! I wrote the drabble I posted below ("Wiseguy") and logged on to find this one... should we be picking out china patterns or what?

PS I'm guessing from your username that you're an "X-Files" fan and will get that comment. If not, please just ignore it. Great drabble. :)
26th-Jan-2008 02:51 am (UTC) - "Wiseguy" H/C w/ multiple ducks, poker face, PG-13
(A/N: In the gambling world, a "wiseguy" is someone who places bets with insider knowledge.)

“No way he’s Foreman’s,” House declared, eying the infant in its crib. “Too vanilla.”

Foreman folded his arms over his chest and copped an attitude. “I say Wilson’s the frozen pop.”

Cameron nodded. “He gets my vote.”

“Not likely,” Chase opined, as if he knew something the others did not.

House glared at him. “Well, Junior came equipped with two well-formed testicles, so he’s not yours, either.”

“Have you guys seen his eyes, yet?” Thirteen cooed. “They’re this incredible blue…”

“He’s a newborn,” Cameron snapped. “They’ll change.”

A gleam crept into House’s eyes… his very blue eyes. “Want to bet?”
26th-Jan-2008 02:58 am (UTC) - Re: "Wiseguy" H/C w/ multiple ducks, poker face, PG-13
Oh now that was rad!! Great Job, I loved it!!! Mine was the before and you were the after! So I love the Mikasa Wear at Macy's with the silver edging, and you?
26th-Jan-2008 03:41 am (UTC) - "Touch Wood" -- H/C, traditions, gen/past history, safe for all
Every year on the anniversary of her appointment as the Dean of Medicine, Cuddy takes a ritual tour of the hospital.

She visits every floor and walks through each department. She greets everyone warmly, and they respond in turn. She praises those doing well, listens to concerns, asks after growing children, makes mental notes of things that could be improved.

It’s her tradition. No one, she thinks, notices that she does this. She doesn’t draw attention to the day. To the staff, it’s just another of her frequent, friendly visits.

It’s late in the day of her ninth anniversary before she sets out. She’s been busy all day in meetings and telephone conferences, and now the lights are out in most of the patient rooms and the offices are locked and dark.

On the fourth floor, the conference room is dark, but there’s still a light on in House’s private office. Through the gap left by a slat hanging askew in the blinds, she can see that his feet are propped on his ottoman.

She pushes the door open and sees his chair surrounded by books and papers. He’s asleep with his reading glasses pushed down on his nose.

He’s still wearing the clothes he came to work in two days ago. His team pulled a forty hour marathon to diagnose a rapidly failing patient and, with the mystery solved and the patient on the mend, he’s finally crashed.

She pushes the door closed behind her, her hand slowing it so that the closing click won’t awaken him, but he stirs as she approaches him.

“Sneaking up on me now?”

“You make a pretty easy target,” she says. She nudges his leg and he makes room for her to sit on the ottoman.

He pulls off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “You’re here late,” he says.

“Busy day,” she replies. She can feel the warmth of his leg through her skirt. She’d almost forgotten that he flushes with heat in his sleep. In Michigan, she always woke up sweating when they’d fallen asleep together.

It’s been a long time since they shared a bed. Somehow life has managed to get in the way of that.

He nudges her hip with the toe of his sneaker. “Anniversary day,” he says softly, and her hand drops down from her lap to rest on his shin.

“You know?”

“One of the first things you did was hire me, so yeah, it’s a pretty memorable date.”

“Nine years,” she says. All around them, people are dying, or being born, or having new chapters written in their lives. For all these years, they’ve been a part of that.

They’re both nine years older than the day she stood in the clinic, holding the telephone receiver and watching the new furniture being carried into her office. On the other end of the line, House was accepting the offer to launch the diagnostics department.

Other people don’t get to see the moments when he lets her sit and talk to him. They witness only the outrageous bluster and threats when he turns the corridors into a battlefield. She lets him get away with it because the fight, the pitched battle he wages for every patient under his care, is worth it.

Knowing House, though, tends to put a lot of miles under a relationship. She knew that going in, and she hasn’t regretted it. At least not much, she thinks ruefully, and she smiles a little.

She looks up, and he’s watching her. His head is tipped back against the chair cushion, and his eyes are sharp in that melancholy face. The warm light from his desk lamp is kind to him. It softens some of the lines in his face and lights the silver strands in his hair.

She remembers when he was young. Sometimes, with the way he acts, it surprises her to see that he’s not young still.

“You should go home,” he says.

“So should you,” she replies.

“In a while,” he says. His patient is stable, but she knows he’ll make another check before leaving. “Now get up.”

She stands and he’s on his feet in almost the same second. At the elevator, he reaches around her, his hand brushing against her back, to press the elevator button.

“Good night, House,” she says as the doors close, and she sees him turning, already headed toward his patient.

On the way out, through the dark and quiet hallway of the first floor, she lets her fingers trail against the cool teak walls. She touches wood for luck, with a wish for another year here with House.

She’ll take whatever she can get.

Edited at 2008-01-26 03:43 am (UTC)
26th-Jan-2008 04:42 am (UTC) - Re: "Touch Wood" -- H/C, traditions, gen/past history, safe for all
This was beautiful, and so them. It could so easily be canon. Thank you :)
26th-Jan-2008 04:20 am (UTC) - "Teddies and gum-sole shoes" H/C, toys, PG
(A/N, I apologise for the lack of Cuddy. She is there, really. *squints* And the word-count, which I fail at.)

It stared back at him, all big round eyes and short legs swinging.

"Again, I said, open your mouth." (Which only prompted more vigorous leg swinging and clanging as gum-soles met metal legs and the whole table wobbled in fear.)

He sighed as he looked skyward for guidance, and by chance caught sight of the poster stuck on the far wall, one of those colorful ones that showed fetal growth. He looked back at the thing before him, now tail-less and more hairy and holding Teddy in a death-grip.

"So," he flicked a hand at Teddy.

"You like bears?"

It nodded enthusiastically, but kept its mouth shut. The table clanged and shook some more.

"Bears are carnivorous. That means they eat meat. That means they'd eat you. And they are huge liars, especially polar bears. Do you know they aren't even white?"

It tilted its head and looked at him, all big round eyes but (thank God) the legs were no longer swinging, and he stared back, daring it to answer, or cry, or anything really, as long as it'd open its mouth so he could finish the exam and shoo it (and himself) back out the door.

"When I grow up," it began, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise that it actually worked, "I will be very brave. And I'll let them bite me, if they have to. Because I love them, and I know they'll hurt, because they love me too. So it'll be okay. And anyway," it blinked, "everybody lies."

It--she--shrugged, and her hair bounced and he was surprised, so his reaction wasn't as fast as it should have been when sticking in the tongue-presser to finally get a look at her tonsils.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"You have a cold," he told the kid, "so no bear hunting for a while," and he thought about his own hunting habits of one female in particular, and that maybe he should give her a break and hang out in the clinic for a while longer. Just today.

"And kid," he added as she slid off the table, dragging her bear.

"When I grow up, I want to be you."
26th-Jan-2008 06:25 am (UTC) - Re: "Teddies and gum-sole shoes" H/C, toys, PG
*uses 'squints' icon* I can totally can see Cuddy in this, hee. ;)

So cute, hon - yay for getting the writing juices flowing again. I love watching House interact with children actually. It's such a different dynamic than when he's messing with other adults.
26th-Jan-2008 09:17 am (UTC) - "Threshold" H/C, gone, PG
Anger carries her fist towards the door. Knuckles, blooming blotchy red, rap on wood. “Open up, you selfish son of a bitch.”

Her hair flutters around her face when the door swings open. Momentum propels her fist into his breastbone, and he staggers. She steps inside, gathers handfuls of his shirt, and drives him against the door. Air rushes out of him and he tries, too late, to cover the shock on his face.

“You should really consider going out for the Jets’ next open try-outs,” he says.

“No. No jokes.” Cuddy stands on her tiptoes, nose to nose with him. “Three times, House.”

He blinks. His wide gaze flickers from her eyes to her lips.

“I’ve had to watch you die three times.”

Almost die, and technically you only had to watch twice. The Bitch got the VIP treatment this time.”

“And next time?” She presses her fists into his chest.

House pauses; he works his jaw but produces no words. When he manages to speak, he addresses the floor. “Cuddy, I—”

“I’ve worked so hard to keep you alive, House.” She butts his shoulder with her forehead. Her hands flatten on his chest. His heart beats, strong and fast. “But you—” She drags her fingertips down his body. Warm, solid, alive. “—you don’t care.”

He toys with a curl of her hair. “I know,” he says. His finger traces her jaw and raises her chin. “I care.” He breathes the words against the corner of her mouth and presses a kiss to her bottom lip, tentative and chaste. House’s hands rest on her shoulders. Purple-red burns color the skin of his left.

Another kiss falls on her cheek.

Her chest aches, twists, as she steps backwards. House’s arms drop to his sides and his mouth hangs agape at her. “Cuddy,” he says. He reaches for her hand. “I care.”

Cuddy shakes her head. She sidesteps him and curls her fingers around the doorknob. The warmth of his kisses still burns on her skin. Her breath catches—a hiccup in her throat. “Not enough, House,” she whispers.

Through a watery blur, she turns the knob and steps over the threshold.
26th-Jan-2008 11:21 am (UTC) - Re: "Threshold" H/C, gone, PG
I've wondered if I'd ever stumble upon a fic that deals with 97 seconds. Haven't seen many around. I like your's though because that's exactly what I think could've happened. ^^ (maybe should've too)
26th-Jan-2008 10:43 am (UTC) - Something So Strong; House/Cuddy, "fear", pg-13
When Cuddy kisses House, pressing her mouth full and hard against his lips, she tells herself it's just to shut him up.

It works, too. She's gripping the back of his head, clutching onto his hair as if threatening to yank right out of his scalp at any moment if he says one more word about Don. About her internet dating. About all the other things in her life that House loves to ridicule. He's in her home, damn it, and she's sick and tired of him intruding on her life, on her every move, because he has no reason to other than the fact that he's a childish, jealous man.

At first, House doesn't respond; he seems too stunned. But then he moves his lips against hers, soft and almost tentative, as though testing to make sure she's not going to bite. With how angry and frustrated House can make her, Cuddy thinks she just might bite if he says one more cruel thing. She knows she should pull away, too; she really has no idea what she's doing other than trying to make House be quiet for once in his damned life.

She doesn't pull away, though, and neither does he. Cuddy finds herself being kissed, hard and passionately. She makes a startled sound at the back of her throat and without putting any thought into it, she reaches her other hand up as she arches up onto her tiptoes and grabs his head in both hands. She slides her fingers through his hair as he winds his arms around her waist, and she kisses him back with a hungry kind of desperation.

She doesn't know who's breathing heavier when the kiss ends, but she keeps a hold of his head just as he keeps hold of her waist. She stares up at him and he stares right back down at her. The intensity of his gaze is enough to take her breath away, and for a long, terrifying moment she thinks this could be the moment she's been waiting for, for as long as she's known him.

“You could've just slapped me,” House finally says, breaking the almost impenetrable silence between them. His voice is low and rough and it sends a ripple of... something through Cuddy that makes her skin flush and her nipples tighten. A reaction that makes her even more terrified of what she's just done.

“Would've been a lot quicker,” he adds.

She abruptly lets him go and braces her hands on his chest, shoving him backwards and he staggers back half a step. The last thing she needs is House complicating her life further. Her life is already complicated enough with him in it as it is. “Get out,” she says, and she's horrified to hear how shaky her voice is.

House looks less sure of himself than she's seen him look in a long time, and she briefly considers wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging him into another kiss. Maybe she'd kiss him until she couldn't breathe. Maybe she'd push him up against the wall and shove her hands up under his shirt, let him shed off her robe, and kiss him and kiss him until her lips felt bruised. She considers all of that and more until he opens his big mouth again.

“Now you're just making me feel used.”

She snaps back to reality. What the hell is wrong with her? Of course she can't do anything of the sort to him. That would just be inviting trouble, and god knows House is aqlready often more trouble than he's worth. “I mean it, House,” she replies firmly.

She wraps her arms around herself protectively, to shield her vulnerability from him, but realises that he's not going anywhere unless she makes him leave. She grabs his arm instead and starts pushing him towards the door. “Get out.”

"What, no goodnight kiss?"

She ignores him. She fumbles with the door handle, her hand trembling, and shoves him out into the icy cold night. Just before she shuts the door, she catches one last glimpse of him looking back at her with bewilderment. She doesn't know if he's bewildered because of what just happened or if he's bewildered because she's hastily making him leave. She's not even sure why she's being so hasty, other than feeling scared that if she lets him stay she'll do something else out of her control. Like giving into any of those crazy thoughts she'd just had racing through her mind.

“Cuddy--” House begins uncertainly.

She closes the door on him before giving him a chance to say anything more.

nb: tbc

Edited at 2008-01-26 11:15 am (UTC)
26th-Jan-2008 11:19 am (UTC) - Re: Something So Strong; House/Cuddy, "fear", pg-13
Oh I do hope you continue. I love it.
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26th-Jan-2008 11:49 am (UTC) - "Thirty-Four Smiles", House/Cuddy, red, PG
"Isn't that sort of cliche? Wearing red for Valentine's Day."

Cuddy stalls in the foyer, fingers clenched around the strap of her handbag and eyes wide. If she was expecting House to be all grace and compliments tonight, she was wrong. He wants her to know that. This isn't a date. Even if it was, he doesn't do charm and poise. He doesn't do flattery.

Insults totally should be an accepted form of fliting anyway.

A plastic smile presses across her lips -- the Business As Usual smile. The Secretly Heartbroken smile. House knows; he pays attention. She has thirty-four types of smiles. He hates this one.

"Satan wears red, you know," he says, and props a shoulder against the door frame.

Against the back of his neck, Feburary artic plants shivery kisses. The warmth of her house heats his face. If his cheeks are red, that is the sole reason. It has nothing to do with how Cuddy looks.

Her dress is well-cut, outlining the sweeping curve of her hips and cupping her bust. It is her neck and legs, though, that win. The dress is the epitamy of the phrase, "She had legs up to here." Her neck is long, elegant; cream white beneath the tendrils of hair that curl and gather at her shoulders.

"Hoping I feel a bit devilish tonight, House?" she asks, in that throaty sort of way that leaves him no alternative but to swallow and blink and swallow some more.

This isn't a date, but it only means he has blood flowing in his veins that he wants the answer to be: yes, God, yes.

Instead he just croaks out, over a bobbing Adam's apple, "You look nice, you know."

Cuddy smiles, number two, and it has to be a trick of the light that suddenly the room looks that much brighter.
26th-Jan-2008 12:00 pm (UTC) - Re: "Thirty-Four Smiles", House/Cuddy, red, PG






26th-Jan-2008 12:07 pm (UTC) - "One Up", House/Cuddy, banter, R, post-Human-Error

"Can I have flying monkeys instead, Mommy?"

"Sure. Just let me talk it over with the Wicked Witch of the West," Cuddy says, swinging a leg over him and settling comfortably on top. House reaches up to untie her hair, and takes a minute to admire the view. Naked and flushed, hair cascading over her bare shoulders: she's a vision. "Do you call everyone you sleep with 'mommy'?"

"Only Wilson," he says. "Foreman prefers 'bitch'. Chase on the other hand likes to call me 'Daddy'."

She makes a face at that, and he can tell she's trying very hard not to laugh. He considers that; proceeds to palm the girls in a manner he knows she'll appreciate, watching for her eyes to glaze over. And when he decides she's sufficiently distracted, he tickles her on the ribs.

That elicits a surprised giggle, but soon she's grabbing hold of his arms and saying, "You keep that up, House, and you'll be back to applying the hand brake."

"And leave you at the mercy of Mr. Massage Bunny? That would be cruel," he says, but leaves it at that. He got what he wanted, anyway.

Cuddy snorts, "At least he's better company." She licks his collarbone. "Polite. Well-behaved. Takes instructions. Knows where the G-spot is," she says, kissing her way down his chest, his stomach, pausing a moment to lavish some extra attention on his navel before moving further south.

"I don't recall you having any complaints last night. In fact, I'm pretty sure I heard begging," House says, doing his best not to thrust. Which is difficult, given the things she's doing down there with that wicked, wicked tongue. "'Ohgoddon'tstop", wasn't it? Funny how you get all religious in bed. Not that I object to the title, it's very flattering."

"I think you should stop talking now," she says.

"I'm not bowing down to your fascist ways," he tells her. "You get enough of that from your minions in the hospital." A hint of teeth, then, and he bucks against her, helpless.

"I can smell the satisfaction on your breath," he says after a while, when he can speak again.

She ignores him, planting her mouth on his instead. "It's time you put your mouth to other uses," she says when she lets him up for air. "Consider that an order."

House doesn't complain.

She is the boss, after all.

26th-Jan-2008 12:56 pm (UTC) - Re: "One Up", House/Cuddy, banter, R, post-Human-Error
"Do you call everyone you sleep with 'mommy'?"

"Only Wilson," he says. "Foreman prefers 'bitch'. Chase on the other hand likes to call me 'Daddy'."

HAHA I almost sputtered my tea from laughing. I really, really liked the dynamics between the couple. always bickering.
26th-Jan-2008 04:54 pm (UTC) - H/C, Flushed, NC-17
(Not sure about the rating ... I'm not very good at that).

It all began as usual.
He barged into her office demanding a dangerous and unnecessary procedure for his current patient.
She refused.
He argued that it was a matter of life and death.
They were both in each others faces.
They were so physically close to each other, they could smell the scent of each others soap.

Then suddenly, he lunged forward, his mouth on hers, his tongue in her mouth.
She didn’t resist.
She kissed back.
He dropped his cane.
He pushed her up against her desk, carefully pulled her skirt above her thighs before sitting her on it.
She wrapped her legs around his body, pulling him in closer, and she let her hands wander under his shirt, caressing the small of his back.
He kissed her neck, her collarbone, while rapidly unbuttoning her shirt.
She unfastened his belt.
He became hard against her; she pulled him in even closer.
She unfastened his zipper.
He unhooked her bra.
He was just about to …

“Cuddy, I need you to authorise a brain biopsy.”
She was brought back to reality by House violently entering her office without knocking.
He stopped halfway in, studied her with a slightly confused look.
“Why are you flushed?” he asked.
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26th-Jan-2008 10:55 pm (UTC) - some assembly required, H/C, 'woman in a man's job', G
Set in the same 'verse and spins off of Gradual Addition.

She had dropped by for their usual Friday dinner only to find out that the boys were out - a handwritten note (left by Wilson, of course) informed her that they'd be back soon.

She amused herself by sifting through magazines. The drifts of House's vast library (which contained some of everything and a lot of nothing: issues of People and Seventeen stacked haphazardly on top of medical journals and dog-eared newspapers from many lands) were more than enough to occupy her attention, and sometimes the marked articles were portals into the mind of the man himself, more helpful in some ways then untold hours of discussion.

One in particular intrigued her: something called Make, which she'd found near the little toolbox (another surprise, although less so given their mutual affection for Norm Abram). Inside were all kinds of projects - small robots, hacked remote controls, that sort of thing. Scattered on the desk were pieces for a few he'd left in progress.

Well, they weren't home yet, and magazines were only so interesting ... she tied back her hair, studied the instructions and set to work.

Some time later she was interrupted by the faint tock of a cane being set against the desk and a familiar pair of arms slipping around her waist.

His breath was warm; his sandpaper stubble tickled the back of her neck as he murmured, "There is nothing sexier than a woman with a screwdriver."

Edited at 2008-01-26 11:53 pm (UTC)
27th-Jan-2008 02:00 am (UTC) - Re: some assembly required, H/C, 'woman in a man's job', G
omg omg! that was gorgeous! AND THE LAST LINE FTW!!!!
27th-Jan-2008 12:46 am (UTC) - Missing, H/C, sirens, PG
She'd never experienced death before.

It was amazing. Lucky, rather. She was in her forties, yet hadn't lost anyone that she remotely missed.

She was used to the sirens, she worked in a hospital.

But after this? Sirens would never be heard the same again.

After this? She would miss a lot.

The fighting.

The yelling, screaming.

The tears.

The rude comments, quick insults.

But especially the person that was apart of it all.

The sirens stopped.

And he was gone.
27th-Jan-2008 02:03 am (UTC) - Re: Missing, H/C, sirens, PG
awww that's sad. but i love the imagery of the sirens and referring to house as sirens.
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27th-Jan-2008 02:11 am (UTC) - "Thou Shalt Not Steal," H/C, red, PG-13
House hated the pen the moment he saw it.

As the yellow-white light lethargically flickered on, he did a scan of the tiny kitchen. Compared to the hostel-like conditions he lived in during his first year of residency, it wasn’t terrible. Small and dated, but still he could see her in it. She had always had that effect on a space, even his.

He still had the pair of cherry-red panties that he had found tangled in his bed sheets after she’d left him (or he’d left her, it was never clear with them) to attest to that.

When he slowly ran his hand over the chipped counter, past the folded pink dish towels and colorful yet mismatched array of coffee mugs awaiting washing, he encountered a velvet case.

Which he did not hesitate to open, after which he ran his thumb down the smooth body of it. The length was a deep crimson, the conic tip a pristine gold to match the swirl of the engraving, DOCTOR CUDDY.

From my father, she’d told him as she peeled her scarf from her neck and popped her earmuffs off. A graduation present.

He nodded distractedly at this and kept twirling it methodically between his fingers. She had gone about making coffee, accustomed to his random fascinations.

It was obvious to him then exactly what he disliked about the pen. The arrogance, the pretentiousness, the sickeningly genteel nature of this particular writing utensil didn’t only not suit the Lisa Cuddy he knew, it was insulting to her.

So he took it, very casually and out of her perception then, but made sure she saw him write out a prescription with it two weeks after she hired him at PPTH.

When she noticed, requested it oh-so-politely be returned, he dangled it out of her reach and told her only real doctors needed fancy fountain pens. Hospital administrators could dip their talons into the blood of their prey and use that to sign paperwork.
27th-Jan-2008 04:07 am (UTC) - Re: "Thou Shalt Not Steal," H/C, red, PG-13
I liked this - a mix of their history and their present, of how well they know each other. And it's just like House to steal her stuff. The last line, you know, ROCKS FOR OBVIOUS REASONS. Hee.
27th-Jan-2008 05:04 am (UTC) - "All They Want" H/C, broken, PG
She's broken - he can see it in her eyes. When he's watching her from inside the clinic, when she's sitting at her desk thinking she's all alone, that's when he sees what she's always fighting to hide. She pushes it back behind her, letting her blue eyes shine with false hope. Her eyes are so blue, sad blue. All he wants to do is give her the comfort that she longs but will not ask for, yet he can't bring himself to push through the doors and offer a kind word.

He's broken - he reminds her every day, limping around with that damn cane, constantly throwing back another vicodin. Beyond the physical, she knows he hurts even more inside when she looks into his eyes, seeing the real, vulnerable Greg House. An apology often threatens to stumble out of her mouth, for what she isn't sure. All she wants is for him to be okay.
27th-Jan-2008 04:26 pm (UTC) - Re: "All They Want" H/C, broken, PG
i really feel that the 'broken' side of both of them is evident. good job!
27th-Jan-2008 07:55 am (UTC) - "Fighting Fate" H/C, battle, PG
This is the third time she's left for weekend confrence in two months.

He stood in the doorway of their bedroom, watching as she carefully selected buisness suits and placed them in a large suit case.

"Want help?"

"You never want to help," she sighs. She knows their relationship isn't working. Maybe a few days off will do both of them some good. That's what she told herself the last two times she left for the weekend. Perhaps this time, it'll work.

"Well I want to help now," he says.

She shrugs. "Okay then."

He lifts her favorite pair of pajamas off the bed. The white shorts-tank top ensemble that he had always been very fond of. "You're taking these?"

She nodded.

"I like these ones," he tells her as he places them down in the suit case.

"I know," she replies.

There is a silence as she continues to busily pack, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says, "that is has to be like this."

She shouldn't have to leave every other weekend for their relationship to work. She should want to share the same bed with him every night, not most nights. She shouldn't have to watch every word that comes out of her mouth when she's around him. She should want to be with him all the time, not some of the time.

But she doesn't.

"Yeah," she replies airly. "Me too."
27th-Jan-2008 04:29 pm (UTC) - Re: "Fighting Fate" H/C, battle, PG
awww the sadness :( but really it was a good read...
27th-Jan-2008 03:47 pm (UTC) - "what it feels like" H/C, 'you never left my sight', PG
The hospital lobby is always a madhouse, a rush of people and tears and blood and life shading into death.

Today, on his way out, it feels different, somehow... more electric, the air super-charged.

He doesn't think to ask why, even though Brenda - running past him, her hand at her throat - looks almost like she wants to stop and talk to him, for once.

"House," he hears someone call from behind him, and it's Wilson.

"House," Wilson says again, his voice trembling with shock, "It's Cuddy."

- - -

She didn't have a pulse, when they brought her in.

She has one now, thready and thin and barely there, erratic like the drunk driver that forced her off the road, and they're working to bring her heartbeat back the way it was - strong, determined, true.

He lingers outside the OR, and he growls at flurried nurses that scurry by, and he glares at Cameron when she asks if he's okay. Wilson is with him, but thankfully, Wilson never says anything, he just waits.

So this tightness in his chest, this white-knuckled clenching of fists - this is what it feels like, for her to watch him die and to want him to live.

- - -

He leaves her room only to pee. He treats his patient through text messages and phone calls - Taub occasionally comes by with coffee and a new suggestion - and Wilson brings him meals.

It's only three days later that Wilson finally says, "House, she's unconscious, but I'm pretty sure she still has a sense of smell. Go take a shower."

- - -

When her eyes open for the first time, he's asleep.

She shifts and sighs, a puff of pain and surprise.

He jolts awake, and as quickly as his leg allows, he's by her side, trying to ignore the sharp starburst of what he suspects is joy, lodged right between his ribs.

She can't talk around the tube, but as he whips out his penlight to check her pupils for dilation, he sees the fear - liquid, unfamiliar, dark as pitch - in her eyes.

"You're okay, Cuddy," he tells her quietly, "Now, anyway."

He presses his palm to her forehead, as much for comfort as to check her temperature.

She looks at him, through a haze of pain and questions she cannot ask, and he doesn't look away until she nods, slowly, I believe you, and closes her eyes again.

- - -

Some days later, when the tube is gone and he's doing a crossword puzzle in her room ("Cuddy, if you can give me the answer to 'six across', I'll up your pain meds"), she says, casually, "So. A little bird tells me you practically lived here while I was out like a light."

"Don't flatter yourself," he snorts, studying the little grid of monochrome boxes intently. "And Wilson is at least a mid-sized parakeet."

"Hard to deny you looked like crap though," she remarks cheerfully, "like you hadn't slept in, I don't know, six days."

"The hooker I hired with this year's bonus kept me up for at least five of those six days," he snarks back.

"Afraid word might get out that you're actually a fluffy marshmallow on the inside?" she asks him sweetly, a grin on her face.

"Just happened to be here, boss, when you deigned to return to the land of the living," he insists, and waves the crossword in her face. "I think 'two down' is 'annoying patient who asks too many questions', by the way."

She shrugs. "Just checking. I guess that explains why you didn't sign my chart for the tachycardia on the third night."

"What the hell are you talking about, Cuddy?" he protests automatically, tapping his pen against the page, "You never left my sight--"

He pauses, two seconds too late.

Damn her.

She smiles, though, and so he finds it hard to be annoyed - triumph always did look good on her.

He clears his throat, rolls his eyes as theatrically as he knows how. "Don't take it as a compliment or anything. I need you alive to sign my paychecks."

"Okay," she nods, as she reaches over and lightly touches her fingers to the back of his hand, "don't take this as a compliment either. But thank you."

- - -

Edited at 2008-01-27 04:20 pm (UTC)
27th-Jan-2008 04:43 pm (UTC) - Re: "what it feels like" H/C, 'you never left my sight', PG

i'm sooooo glad you wrote another drabble! this was so H/C sweet! its so them. being sweet and caring without ever admitting it. :D

and cuddy PWNED when she tricked him into admitting that he did stay by her side for 6 nights. argh LOVE. you're awesome babe!! ♥
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27th-Jan-2008 05:44 pm (UTC) - Re: "once was" H/C, pain, PG
aww that makes me wanna cry!

esp the last line. that she loved beyond hope.

gorgeous drabble :D
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