FF: Unspoken Volumes
Title: Unspoken Volumes
Author: Ellie
Rating: PG
Summary: “He chose not to think about reactions for a moment, just absorbed the significance of her touch.”
Spoilers for “Words and Deeds.”
---
Together, inside their homes and away from prying eyes, both of them were physically affectionate. Not in grand, dramatic gestures-though House did admit a certain fondness for that on occasion-but an easy, comfortable familiarity. She slapped his hand when he stole a forkful of her dessert. He’d grab her ass as he brushed past her in the kitchen. She came home from a long day at the hospital and snuggled against him on the couch as he watched bad reality television. He would arrive unannounced in the night, and slip into bed, wrapping himself around her without protest.
By agreement, they rarely touched outside of the confines of their homes. Outside, they sniped and snarled, but rarely did they touch. She’d set the rules, and shockingly, he’d never violated them, much as he might taunt her about doing so, because listening for once was the best way to show it mattered. Her infractions had been so thoughtlessly natural that they hardly counted, instinct sending her across an office to catch his stumbling form before her conscious was aware she’d moved. He laughed it off, but had been grateful for her presence, her strong soft hands around his arm.
Now, the simple hand on his back as she and Wilson rose from the table spoke volumes. She never touched him in front of anyone, and he avoided Wilson’s questioning look in favor of catching her eye. In Wilson’s presence, any verbal response would have been mocking by necessity, so he remained silent. She could read him better than Wilson, would understand the gratitude and affection lurking under his pallor and weary gaze. He chose not to think about reactions for a moment, just absorbed the significance of her touch.
When she lingered for just a moment, hand still burning comfort through layers of fabric, Wilson turned back to stare at the two of them, too-knowing, with a raised brow and one hand on his hip. Cuddy stepped away then, quick agitated steps across the room, and he could hear Wilson trying to keep up and question her as they wended their way around tables, but she would have none of it.
He watched them go, catching her quick wink as she spun out the door, and smiled. Wilson didn’t glance back at him, just stared at Cuddy as he swept past, trying to puzzle out what exactly was going on. Cuddy’s gaze revealed nothing, her face the same serene mask she kept in place during most of her dealings with House. Knowing where to look, though, House saw the faint twinkle in her eyes.
Later, Wilson stopped by on his way home for the night. Having failed to get any answers from Cuddy, he now chose to question House. “What was that earlier?”
“What was what?” House didn’t look away from the television, where he was staring raptly at The Girls Next Door. “Have you watched any of this? It may be the best thing ever on television.”
Wilson glanced at the screen and shook his head in frustration. “No. We’re talking about Cuddy, this afternoon.”
“You are talking about Cuddy this afternoon. I am talking about the lovely girls Hef has chosen to surround himself with, and then share with the American public. The latter is much more interesting.”
“That would be far more interesting if it were on a channel that allowed nudity,” said Wilson, grabbing the remote and turning off the set. He settled himself in a chair opposite House and continued, “So what was with her little pat on the back?”
House just stared blankly at him. “She patted me on the back. I just sat there. I have no idea what it was about.”
“You hate people touching you.”
“No, I hate gratuitous displays of affection. All Cuddy did was pat me on the back.”
“You about took my hand off the last time I slapped you on the back, after that clinic consult with the woman…”
House grinned. “That’s only because the time before that, you put a sign on my back.”
“In retaliation for the email you sent to the entire hospital!”
“Ah, but you don’t deny it.”
“She’s just been awfully understanding lately. It’s not like her, especially after what you’ve been putting her through.” Wilson still looked suspicious.
“It’s either be understanding or leave her precious hospital open for an even bigger lawsuit. I’m the lesser of two evils. It’s immensely distressing.”
Wilson laughed and rose to leave. “You want me to bring you lunch tomorrow, Dr. Evil? Burger?”
“Sure. Bacon and extra cheese. And one million dollars!”
“At least rehab from a heart attack will be less dramatic than this,” said Wilson, rolling his eyes as he walked out of the ward.
Long after visiting hours had ended and the ward was quiet, House sat on his bed, a book open and ignored on his lap. Pages rustled when he shifted his weight, trying to ease some of the pain in his thigh, hoping that would ease the explosive ache in his head. The knock at his door didn’t help matters, cracking through his skull like gunshots.
“Come in,” he said. As if he had a choice. They only knocked here out of politeness, not because they would actually leave you alone.
When Cuddy stepped through the door, looking weary, he was as startled as he could muster the energy to be. If she noticed his shock, she didn’t mention it as she firmly closed the door behind her and crossed the room to settle on the edge of his bed.
He reached across the chasm between them and put his hand on her sleeve, feeling the corded steel disguised by silk. Catching her eye, he smiled weakly.
“What did you promise Wilson to get him to take over harassment duty while you’re in here?”
“Ah, if I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He winked. “It’s double secret.”
She sighed, but he felt the muscles under his hands relax a bit. “So long as you don’t kill a horse in my office, I guess that’s fine.”
“Kill one? Never!”
Shaking her head, she slid further up the bed, coming to sit beside him, back against the wall and shoulder just so far away from his. That wouldn’t do, not at all. He scrunched down a bit and dropped his head to rest on her shoulder, already feeling a bit better.
“How’d you get in here, anyway? Visiting hours were finished hours ago.”
“Administrative privilege.”
“Ooh, tell me more.”
Her shoulder shook, light and quick, under his cheek. “I have master keys and I’m not afraid to use them. And no, you cannot have copies.”
“Even if I promise to use them for good?”
An elbow jabbed him lightly in the ribs, and she switched tracks abruptly. “I talked to Tritter this afternoon, after Wilson and I visited.”
“That must have been an ugly conversation. Did you make him cry?”
“I asked him to come see you. To come see that this is genuine, that you’re making an effort to be a better person.”
“I’m never going to be a good person.” He shook his head, feeling the crepe of her jacket catch on his stubble with the subtle movement.
“You’re better than you think.” The room was very quiet, and her hand came to rest on his thigh with just enough pressure. Then she broke the spell. “Besides, I never said you were trying to be a ‘good person.’ I said better. I’m not delusional.”
He kissed her cheek as she pulled away, swinging her legs back over the side of the bed to connect with a firm clack against the tile. “Delusional, no. Delicious, yes.”
Stiffly, she crossed her arms and glared down at him, but there was a smile in her eyes that tugged at the corners of her lips as she spoke. “It never lets up with you, does it?”
“One day it will, just to see how badly it trips you up.”
“Goodnight, House.” One hand rested on the door handle, and she did smile now, lips puckering gently as if resisting the urge to blow him a kiss.
With a flick of his hand and a grin, he dismissed her. “Go! Let me get some sleep, you succubus!”
“I’ll remember that.” Her throaty laugh echoed in the room for just a second before the door closed behind her, and he was left alone, the faint whiff of her perfume for company.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and wished for sleep.
----
End
----
Author: Ellie
Rating: PG
Summary: “He chose not to think about reactions for a moment, just absorbed the significance of her touch.”
Spoilers for “Words and Deeds.”
---
Together, inside their homes and away from prying eyes, both of them were physically affectionate. Not in grand, dramatic gestures-though House did admit a certain fondness for that on occasion-but an easy, comfortable familiarity. She slapped his hand when he stole a forkful of her dessert. He’d grab her ass as he brushed past her in the kitchen. She came home from a long day at the hospital and snuggled against him on the couch as he watched bad reality television. He would arrive unannounced in the night, and slip into bed, wrapping himself around her without protest.
By agreement, they rarely touched outside of the confines of their homes. Outside, they sniped and snarled, but rarely did they touch. She’d set the rules, and shockingly, he’d never violated them, much as he might taunt her about doing so, because listening for once was the best way to show it mattered. Her infractions had been so thoughtlessly natural that they hardly counted, instinct sending her across an office to catch his stumbling form before her conscious was aware she’d moved. He laughed it off, but had been grateful for her presence, her strong soft hands around his arm.
Now, the simple hand on his back as she and Wilson rose from the table spoke volumes. She never touched him in front of anyone, and he avoided Wilson’s questioning look in favor of catching her eye. In Wilson’s presence, any verbal response would have been mocking by necessity, so he remained silent. She could read him better than Wilson, would understand the gratitude and affection lurking under his pallor and weary gaze. He chose not to think about reactions for a moment, just absorbed the significance of her touch.
When she lingered for just a moment, hand still burning comfort through layers of fabric, Wilson turned back to stare at the two of them, too-knowing, with a raised brow and one hand on his hip. Cuddy stepped away then, quick agitated steps across the room, and he could hear Wilson trying to keep up and question her as they wended their way around tables, but she would have none of it.
He watched them go, catching her quick wink as she spun out the door, and smiled. Wilson didn’t glance back at him, just stared at Cuddy as he swept past, trying to puzzle out what exactly was going on. Cuddy’s gaze revealed nothing, her face the same serene mask she kept in place during most of her dealings with House. Knowing where to look, though, House saw the faint twinkle in her eyes.
Later, Wilson stopped by on his way home for the night. Having failed to get any answers from Cuddy, he now chose to question House. “What was that earlier?”
“What was what?” House didn’t look away from the television, where he was staring raptly at The Girls Next Door. “Have you watched any of this? It may be the best thing ever on television.”
Wilson glanced at the screen and shook his head in frustration. “No. We’re talking about Cuddy, this afternoon.”
“You are talking about Cuddy this afternoon. I am talking about the lovely girls Hef has chosen to surround himself with, and then share with the American public. The latter is much more interesting.”
“That would be far more interesting if it were on a channel that allowed nudity,” said Wilson, grabbing the remote and turning off the set. He settled himself in a chair opposite House and continued, “So what was with her little pat on the back?”
House just stared blankly at him. “She patted me on the back. I just sat there. I have no idea what it was about.”
“You hate people touching you.”
“No, I hate gratuitous displays of affection. All Cuddy did was pat me on the back.”
“You about took my hand off the last time I slapped you on the back, after that clinic consult with the woman…”
House grinned. “That’s only because the time before that, you put a sign on my back.”
“In retaliation for the email you sent to the entire hospital!”
“Ah, but you don’t deny it.”
“She’s just been awfully understanding lately. It’s not like her, especially after what you’ve been putting her through.” Wilson still looked suspicious.
“It’s either be understanding or leave her precious hospital open for an even bigger lawsuit. I’m the lesser of two evils. It’s immensely distressing.”
Wilson laughed and rose to leave. “You want me to bring you lunch tomorrow, Dr. Evil? Burger?”
“Sure. Bacon and extra cheese. And one million dollars!”
“At least rehab from a heart attack will be less dramatic than this,” said Wilson, rolling his eyes as he walked out of the ward.
Long after visiting hours had ended and the ward was quiet, House sat on his bed, a book open and ignored on his lap. Pages rustled when he shifted his weight, trying to ease some of the pain in his thigh, hoping that would ease the explosive ache in his head. The knock at his door didn’t help matters, cracking through his skull like gunshots.
“Come in,” he said. As if he had a choice. They only knocked here out of politeness, not because they would actually leave you alone.
When Cuddy stepped through the door, looking weary, he was as startled as he could muster the energy to be. If she noticed his shock, she didn’t mention it as she firmly closed the door behind her and crossed the room to settle on the edge of his bed.
He reached across the chasm between them and put his hand on her sleeve, feeling the corded steel disguised by silk. Catching her eye, he smiled weakly.
“What did you promise Wilson to get him to take over harassment duty while you’re in here?”
“Ah, if I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He winked. “It’s double secret.”
She sighed, but he felt the muscles under his hands relax a bit. “So long as you don’t kill a horse in my office, I guess that’s fine.”
“Kill one? Never!”
Shaking her head, she slid further up the bed, coming to sit beside him, back against the wall and shoulder just so far away from his. That wouldn’t do, not at all. He scrunched down a bit and dropped his head to rest on her shoulder, already feeling a bit better.
“How’d you get in here, anyway? Visiting hours were finished hours ago.”
“Administrative privilege.”
“Ooh, tell me more.”
Her shoulder shook, light and quick, under his cheek. “I have master keys and I’m not afraid to use them. And no, you cannot have copies.”
“Even if I promise to use them for good?”
An elbow jabbed him lightly in the ribs, and she switched tracks abruptly. “I talked to Tritter this afternoon, after Wilson and I visited.”
“That must have been an ugly conversation. Did you make him cry?”
“I asked him to come see you. To come see that this is genuine, that you’re making an effort to be a better person.”
“I’m never going to be a good person.” He shook his head, feeling the crepe of her jacket catch on his stubble with the subtle movement.
“You’re better than you think.” The room was very quiet, and her hand came to rest on his thigh with just enough pressure. Then she broke the spell. “Besides, I never said you were trying to be a ‘good person.’ I said better. I’m not delusional.”
He kissed her cheek as she pulled away, swinging her legs back over the side of the bed to connect with a firm clack against the tile. “Delusional, no. Delicious, yes.”
Stiffly, she crossed her arms and glared down at him, but there was a smile in her eyes that tugged at the corners of her lips as she spoke. “It never lets up with you, does it?”
“One day it will, just to see how badly it trips you up.”
“Goodnight, House.” One hand rested on the door handle, and she did smile now, lips puckering gently as if resisting the urge to blow him a kiss.
With a flick of his hand and a grin, he dismissed her. “Go! Let me get some sleep, you succubus!”
“I’ll remember that.” Her throaty laugh echoed in the room for just a second before the door closed behind her, and he was left alone, the faint whiff of her perfume for company.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and wished for sleep.
----
End
----