If only time could stand still.
If only the winds and paths in life they were pushing against were as submissive as the winds they were easily cutting through now, then maybe, they would have been together for a long time already. Thoughts raced through both of their minds, finding the real reason—aside from their own fears and internal demons—why they hadn't worked out in the beginning.
ou maybe fate was just preparing them for its original plan for their twisted l’amour story. Possibly. Indeed, they've finally coupled, but that was just the beginning of this adventurous thing they'll finally be having. A relationship. So was this what Fate really planned?
Either way, they embraced the now plus fully. Too much time wasted, too many heartbreaks passed and they were finally here, riding his motorcycle, him bringing her somewhere. They wished time would stand still.
Until today, she never fully understood what he had been thinking when he purchased this vehicle. She thought it was just House being House, proving that he could be normal. But truly, she understood it better now. He bought it because in a way, it made him feel free, made him feel normal. It allowed him to run. It was, to an extent, his emancipation from his boundaries.
She felt even plus special, being allowed to experience the liberation he felt. It was him learning to open himself up to her.
She held onto him tightly, the speed at which he was going frightening her yet liberating her at the same time. Two decades, her mind counted for her, two decades since the last time she's ridden behind him. The heat radiating from his body keeping her warm despite the veste she a volé, étole from him. Her hands slid under his shirt, feeling his heated skin under her palms. Her eyes were plus often closed than open.
All she wanted to do was feel.
Once in a while she'd look, tracing her eyes along the streets they were passing by. Once in a while, she'd abruptly open her eyes, flinching at sudden turns he'd make while clinging onto him tighter. Knowing that he wouldn't have anything happen to them if it could be helped, she buried her face against his shoulder and nape, relaxing herself into him, molding her body to his back, surrendering her safety in his hands. She trusted him.
Some minutes later she sensed something off. She opened her eyes and was surprised to see them slowing down onto the sidewalk. House brought her to the Jersey Shore. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of the beach, the fresh air. She smiled and hugged him tighter from behind.
She got down when he parked and waited for him to park it properly and set the stand near the boardwalk. When he dismounted his bike she latched onto his arm, practically dragging him towards the stairs that led to the beach. When they got down she suddenly turned, facing him, frowning. "What about your leg?" she asked, knowing that the cane wouldn't help him much in the sand.
"I'll be fine," House told her reassuringly, turning her so she could lead the way. "Go find us a spot, woman!" he exclaimed playfully then added, "I'm right behind you."
He watched from behind her as she took off her Christian Louboutins, hooking her index finger and middle finger on either shoe to carry them as she walked barefoot on the sand. He watched as her hair danced along to the wind's rhythm, gazed at her with the ghost of a smile playing at his lips when she smiled as her feet sank just a few inches into the fine sand.
She looked back at him with that thousand-watt smile that never failed to make him smile in return. Her eyes twinkled under the clouds which were partly covering the sun's light, making her eyes even plus entrancing. He randomly wondered how his looked.
She beckoned him to follow her, like a Siren tempting a seafarer, index finger curling for him to pursue her as she smiled seductively. He had to suppress a smirk at her actions but he loved that bringing her here made her happy. He was starting to get a glimpse of the old Lisa Cuddy he knew 20 years ago. And as he could see, the word 'fun' still existed in her vocabulary.
He slowly followed her, sensing that she was going to set camp at the big log lying on the sand about thirty feet from him. When she finally got there, she sat on the lumber and set her heels on a flat surface on it. He took his time, wanting to be able to safely make his way there instead of falling due to hurrying and then hurting himself, ending their escape too soon.
Cuddy sat watching him make his way to her. She saw his face contort in slight pain—flinches—as he trekked the sands, step par step making his way to where she sat. She didn't dare help him, he would reject it. And for some reason, nothing in her body was urging her to rush to his aid because she knew he could do it. Of course he could, it just took him longer to finish the walk.
When he finally got to her, he plopped down on the sand and she slid down beside him, laying her head on his shoulder, cautious of his wound. "Glad toi could make it," she mumbled playfully, her fingers playing with his tee.
"Funny," he deadpanned, trying to calm his breathing. Limping on sand wasn't an easy feat for his leg. But he wasn't mad at her playful joke. He was used to her throwing stuff like that at him. It was normal for them. And he liked that about her: she didn't treat him like the cripple he was if she could help it. Hell, he even liked it when they used it against him while they were throwing barbs at each other.
Cuddy frowned at his reply. She knew it had been difficult for him at some level. "You okay?" she asked, raising her head up to meet his cerulean eyes, bluer than usual. Her hand instinctively went up to cup his cheek, wanting to know if he really was okay.
House gazed into her eyes, wondering how this woman could melt him with her gaze—and, admittedly, turn him on in some occasions. He glanced down at her pouty, ajar lips and back to her glorious orbs. Tentatively, he leant forward, alternately looking from her luscious lips to her clear sapphire eyes.
She closed the distance and pressed her lips against his, s’embrasser him lovingly. She couldn't stop thinking how she loved his lips. She loved the way he kissed her. Be it passionately ou tenderly, she loved it. A few secondes later they separated, his palm and fingers stroking her back soothingly while her palm remained splayed against his cheek, her middle finger tickling the back of his ear unconsciously and her thumb running along his jaw.
"Now I'm okay," he answered, grinning mischievously at her. He found it intriguing how many times he's smiled today and last night. Not only did she make him feel funny, she was the only one who could make him happy.
"Good to know," Cuddy grinned, smiling at him again before laying her head back on his shoulder, mindful of his bandaged wound. When she couldn't find a comfortable position against his shoulder from the limitations his bandage brought, she settled on laying her head on his chest. She found it a far better spot than his shoulder. She could hear his cœur, coeur beating under her ear, the soft thumps relaxing her. She never thought that he was one for snuggling ou cuddling and it amused her that he was. She had no complaints about it. She sighed then smiled pleasurably when she felt his fingers on her waist, drumming a soundless tune against her side.
It could turn out to be a perfect jour after all.
They sat there in comfortable silence, enjoying the view in front of them. He focused his attention to the woman huddled against him while his eyes focused on the waves. Her ears listened to the beat of his cœur, coeur while her eyes adored the clouds.
House trailed his eyes on the waves rolling onto the shore, soaking the sand. He could not help but take notice of how it resembled him. He was a wave, journeying the depths and the enormity of the sea to find grounds where he'd wash up, separating himself as a ripple of water soaking the fine grains of sand, wondering if the place he crashed into was well worth the journey.
Was she the land? Was she the sand he crashed into? No, he thought. She was the clouds guiding him to safety. It may leave him from time to time but it was always there, always hovering, sometimes smothering, most of the time a comfort. She may have tried to escape her l’amour and feelings for him, but their connection and history was far too great and indestructible. She was the nuage which watched over his journey, once in a while blowing him to the shore, leading him to peace, finding him solemnity from the restlessness of the currents dragging his feet back into the depths of the sea he escaped from.
He was the Odysseus of his own epic. 20 years of journeying through perilous challenges, rough seas, and he was finally home—well, he had thought he was, until he found out that the woman he loved has accepted a new lover. But last night he has ultimately triumphed over Lucas. Although it was ironic that when he had finally decided to stop with everything, that was when her feelings started to cave in. She went to him and saved him. He had finally come accueil to the woman he loved, not necessarily a brand new man, but a man doused with numerous experiences and new knowledge and perspectives on things he once never thought to stop for and appreciate.
He was the wave who has finally learned from his long journey after having gone through it many times like a hamster in an exercise wheel. He was the ripple of water which seeped into the fine grains of the sands of time, carrying all that he's learned no matter the weight of it all, finally realizing that he was where he should be, where he's long wanted to be, with the nuage wrapped around him at that moment.
She was his peace of mind.
She was not without tribulations either. She has long watched over, only her wind being able to help him on his way. She was a powerful force to be trifled with. And she herself was terrified of what effects she had on him. He was as fragile as glass and she feared her strength would shatter him. And a few months ago, he reached out a hand for her to help him through the currents and tides of his life, but she had turned him down from the poisonous drops of liquid hate he had drenched her in. His words had scarred her, his words had cut her and she just… stopped caring. She let him drown in himself. She failed to watch over him the moment he needed her most. And that… shattered her and made her cower. She had failed. That was when she started to be afraid of how she affected him; Of how her smallest of actions hit him like an eighteen-wheeler truck on full speed.
The same way she had hit him unintentionally when she started dating Lucas. He was his friend, ou was supposed to be. But she had done that for herself. She had to keep her distance from House, else she'd be stuck looking after him. It had been high time she looked after herself. But Lucas had been the wrong person. Yes, he was reliable, he was nice, but he wasn't her Odysseus. He wasn't the man she truly loved.
Cuddy sighed as she glanced at the soothing sounds of the waves washing upon the shore. Her fingers drummed on his chest a beat neither of them could hear. But House thought she was following the beat of his heart. It was undeniably soothing.
Both were grateful the worst storm has passed and the dark clouds have cleared. The waves and the clouds were now in perfect harmony. Like them. And though House and Cuddy knew that it wouldn't always be smooth sailing for them across the forthcoming sea of challenges that lay just below the horizon, they were heartened to know that the good things would make up for the bad.
l’amour isn't ever not complicated.
To make matters plus challenging, they were already complicated to begin with.
But… all of the bad times, the fights, arguments, and misunderstandings that would be coming their way, would pave the way for happiness ou any semblance of it.
These were the negative essentials, negative but essentials nonetheless, that will make everything real. The things that would- if they overcome them—make everything worth everything they've been through, in the end.
They sighed in unison then looked at each other, Cuddy chuckling at the coincidence. "I remembered toi like the beach," House suddenly spoke, opening up to her the reason he brought her here.
"I'm glad toi remembered," she whispered, smiling in reminiscence of the last time they have gone to a plage with Friends 20 years ago.
"How could I forget?" House rhetorically asked and she was about to smile when he characteristically added, "You were wearing that white bikini that hid almost nothing."
He grinned at her, eyes squinting in a teasing manner and that's when she pouted and glared at him. She kneeled so she could stand up but he tightened his arm around her, nailing her on her knees on the sand.
"You're much hotter now than toi were before," he whispered seductively, looking her in the eyes. She tried not to let a grin occupy her visage and was successful at doing so. "It's a massive turn on," he told her, grinning now.
Cuddy bit her lip to stop the grin this time but failed miserably. She grasped either side of his cheeks with her palms and looked him in the eyes before s’embrasser him, passionately this time. As much as she loved him being gentle on her, she sometimes liked it hot, rough, and passionate. They savored each other's taste, the pulp on one another's lips, their tongues dancing together until they could no longer handle the loss of breath. They parted, her face flushed, his ears reddened cutely. She brushed her fingers on the curls above his nape, her eyes waiting for his to open. She smiled as she waited, seemingly mesmerized that they were here, together.
"You hungry?" he inquired, knowing that neither of them have had breakfast yet. She laid her head on his biceps, an arm behind him while her left hand stroked his left arm. She shook her head. No, she didn't want to leave yet. But hungry, she was.
It was infrequent that she got to escape her administrative life. She's always been too hooked on wanting everything to be fine, if not perfect. She liked her first baby well-oiled and functional. That's why it was the best. But it being the best was also the reason she couldn't try and give herself a breather to think of her own life.
"Let's stay here a while," she whispered, staring off at a distance.
"Okay," House whispered, looking at the sand as if it were interesting. He fisted a hand, feeling the grains try and escape from his grasp. He continued doing this for a while, just letting her savor the moment she wasn't anywhere near paperwork ou a group of donors ou people whining about his antics.
He let her live today, Cuddy thought, her cœur, coeur smiling. He let them escape the place where they were supposed to be at right now. She had agreed, hesitant at first but it was a good escape, she thought. And House was thoughtful enough—romantic enough, to have planned it at the last second. She wondered if she'd ever experience plus of this side of him as they ventured into something new for them both. A new chapter in their history.
A part of House, the curious side, wanted to ask her about her sudden change of cœur, coeur but his cœur, coeur and the romantic side of him, made him back off. He needn't think hard why she chose him. He needn't think why she loved him.
l’amour need not a reason.
One couldn't choose who to love.
Not even the strong Lisa Cuddy. She had fought hard against her feelings. She had fought bravely to stop letting him back into her heart. She just couldn't. And so she finally gave in to the waves of emotions that had finally broken through last night.
She loved him. There was no reason for it. She loved him because he was who he was. She just couldn't help herself any longer.
The game of l’amour finally came to an end for them. Denial and hurting each other ceased. They couldn't hurt like that anymore. She couldn't marry a man she wasn't in l’amour with. She couldn't marry a man whilst she was in l’amour with somebody else. Lucas had accepted defeat. Cuddy had talked to him calmly, apologizing for doing it to him. She had told him that she couldn't help who she loved. She told him sincerely what she liked about him, and that somebody better was out there for him. But it wasn't her. Her cœur, coeur belonged to House, no matter how much of an cul, ass he was. How could he rank alongside House, after all. He already had a 20-year head start to capture Cuddy's heart. How could he compete with that? It had started as a pursuit of what House had but didn't know he had. But then he fell in l’amour with the woman he knew was, deep down, in l’amour with House. He had betrayed House's friendship par trying to get Cuddy. What started as a challenge, a competition on who gets the woman first, ended blowing up in his face. Cuddy wasn't for him. He relented last night. He was hurt, yes. He Lost one hell of a woman and it was, partly, his fault. She was a diamond in the rough.
"House?" she whispered, gazing at the clouds, trying to make out the shapes and forms. He hummed in acknowledgement of hearing her question.
"You're not going to ask me about Lucas?" she inquired almost awkwardly. It wasn't like him to not ask her about it. She knew he didn't want to seem smug about it but she just wanted to know what he was thinking.
"There's nothing to ask," he whispered, accepting. He gazed down at the haut, retour au début of her head, the side of his face twitching a bit, supposedly a smile but it didn't tug up into one. She shifted in his hold, pulling her arm from behind him and leaning back against his left side, his left arm wrapping around her and settling on her side, his hand upturned on her stomach.
Without hesitance, she took her right hand and laced their fingers, loving how her smaller palm fitted his much bigger one. She wondered at how their fingers laced perfectly. Like the right key for a lock. The last piece of one another's puzzle.
Cuddy instantly knew, upon gazing down at how they fit perfectly, she will fight for this. It's been too long a tango they've shared. Full of emotions, full of tension, of passion. But she wanted them to switch to something else. She wanted them to just sway. Sway to something better. Of course, the thrill of tangoing would always be there but there was something about being with him like this in an intimate way. Sitting there leaning against him, wrapped in him, she felt utterly connected with him. It was a most welcomed feeling.
She didn't know what to say to his acceptance. She wanted to thank him but it sounded wrong to thank him. But maybe, her silence implied that. Thank toi for not pushing. Thank toi for not questioning. Thank toi for just accepting.
Cuddy released a breath she hadn't known she was taking and was about to say something about their well-fitted hands when he suddenly spoke, low, admittedly sexy, and almost sheepish. "It fits," he said, gazing down at their hands before meeting her eyes, her head tilted back a little to look at him with sparkling eyes which he wanted to tease her about looking googly-eyed with but he couldn't help but give her a slightly awkward smile in return. Damn his romanticism making him soft in front of her.
But then, he thought, maybe she didn't mind this side of him from time to time.
"It does," she answered, that smile which resembled the one she had donné him last night gracing her face. "We do," she whispered, her eyelashes batting, grazing the haut, retour au début of her cheeks beautifully. He was Lost in her, in her eyes. He leaned forward, pecking her quickly, eyes open to see her face in daylight. To see how her face's expressions changed as he kissed her. He had seen hers last night. He had to know how she looked in day. As he pulled back, he couldn't help admit that either way, she was still beautiful. A goddess. His. Finally.
God, he wanted this to work. Even if it resulted in him having to turn to a higher power like how this thought first started.
Things would be different when they got back to work. Great, now it was him thinking about that hospital. "How do we do this?" he asked, starting to toy with the sand using his hands again as she shuffled to his side, drawing her knees up a bit.
Her face turned serious as she started stroking the exposed skin of his biceps with her fingers. "I don't know…" she stated, just as Lost as he was. "I just want it to work," she whispered, looking down, her right hand perched on his back.
"Yeah," he whispered, glad to know she was thinking the same, and to hear her verbal acknowledgement that they were in this together. He huddled her to him, the side of her face nestled on the left side of his chest, a little below his wound. Her hand made its way to his torso, splaying it against his stomach, loving the warmth he brought her. It was windy and a little cold that day. He surprised her par locking his fingers around her in an embrace. She closed her eyes while he looked down, never ever done thinking how much of a lucky bastard he was to have her now.
Cuddy smiled, loving the feel of his strong arms around her, loving the feel of his biceps enclosing her small frame. She felt so sûr, sans danger ensconced in his arms like this. Nothing but them. If only things were this easy.
But they weren't and they had to face things soon enough. They had tomorrow to look vers l'avant, vers l’avant to, though, before the madness in the hospital returns to normal. But she'd think about tomorrow, tomorrow, and she'd think about Monday on Monday.
Right now, all she could think of was today.
And he just had to spoil her peace par suddenly asking, "What do toi think Wilson would say?"
As she thought of it, she suddenly burst out a low chuckle, her hand rising from his stomach as she gestured and said, "I have no idea."
"Was sex with Lucas good?" he asked, smiling annoyingly cute at her. At least he wasn't uncomfortable—or if he was, he wasn't montrer it—with the matter anymore.
She groaned at him, pouting as she started to get up again. "I'll take that as a no," he a dit chuckling.
"House!" she scolded, standing up and pushing her hands against his chest as he laughed, his arms spread wide as he asked her what he had asked wrong.
"What? Don't worry, I'll make sure to make toi feel like a woman when we get back," he teased, his voice sexily gruff and that rare smile of his plastered on his face.
Cuddy gutturally laughed despite her annoyance. As much as she hated to compare, she couldn't deny that House was, despite his leg, amazing at sex. A proof was what she still remembered 20 years il y a and the l’amour session they had earlier that morning.
"Come on, I'll give toi a Kiss to make toi feel better," he a dit lecherously, loving how he could still banter and bicker with her.
"Nice try," she said, not budging as she stood up.
"Come on," he whined, pouting up at her.
Cuddy rolled her eyes but kneeled in front of her giant lummox and cupped the left side of his face, her fingers stroking him sending shivers up and down his spine. She gazed at his baby blues for a while, loving how they reflected the sea behind her, loving how he was still the House she knew with a few new quirks added. "I l’amour you," she whispered, not able to help herself from articulating what and how she felt. House kissed her, smiling against her lips as his hands rested on her lower back, caressing her there. He didn't have to reply she knew from the way he was returning her Kiss that he felt the same.
They fell into another silent embrace, just enjoying each other's presence, enjoying the surroundings which didn't consist of hospital beds, doctors: their usual setting. They enjoyed this small escape. It was their reconnection before they started work again that coming Monday.
For what seemed like half an heure they sat on the sand, talking quietly about things, even talking seriously about Rachel. She told him that she only wanted him to be himself, only with the added consideration that Rachel was just an infant. Of course, House understood that, he just added some suggestions which were insane to tick her off a little.
"I can't be an adjusted father figure overnight. I doubt I ever would be," he honestly told her, not wanting to crush her hopes but not wanting her to believe he could be what he thought she wanted him to be.
"I never asked toi to be, House," she answered just as honestly. "I just want toi to be yourself. toi could be Uncle House ou even just House… I just want toi to treat her like my daughter and not some other person's." she whispered, understanding that he had had issues with his father when he was a kid. She never did know the rest of the story. But she understood and she didn't pry. He'd tell her in his own time. "But in time," she cautiously added, "if toi want to be, I don't have any problem with that, either."
House thought it through. He was scared shitless about having to deal with a child. Especially Cuddy's. Surely there'd be a time that he'll have to babysit the kid. What if he does something unintentionally… what if—
He was cut off par her lips on his again. "You'll be okay," she assured as if she read his thoughts. He nodded his head, uncertain but assured that she'd be there for him when it came to trying to bond with the kid.
"Come on," he reluctantly said, straightening up. "I could hear your stomach grumbling its protest."
Cuddy chuckled and agreed. She stood up, dusting the sand off her bottom before extending a hand to House. He extended one hand towards her and she helped pull him up, groaning a little from his weight. He smiled when they finally got him upright. She took her shoes and his cane and allowed him to use her as his crutch.
"House, I'm not that frail, toi could lean on me a bit," she told him after noticing that he wasn't actually leaning on her for support. He relaxed a little at her reassurance before draping his arm around her shoulders and she snaked a hand behind him. Together they made their way back to his bike.
But before House mounted, Cuddy cornered him on the boardwalk railing, her hands on either side of him. He could've made her déplacer ou escape her but he was intrigued and excited to know what she would do. When she was sure he would remain still, she put her hands on his chest, caressing him before looking up at him sweetly. "Thank you, for bringing me here," she told him with a smile. "Last time I've gone to the plage was years ago."
House was glad this idea was a success. He smiled back, proud to have made her happy with this simple gesture of remembering what she liked. "You're welcome," he replied, placing his hands on her hips.
She gave him a Kiss on the cheek before turning around and waiting for him to prep the bike. When he finally did, she settled behind him, confident on wrapping her arms tighter around him and under his shirt. She smiled against his back as he drove off, driving them to Briganti's.

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