Say It's Possible (2/3)
Title: Say It's Possible (2/3)
Author: Phelipa
Rating: NC-17 (This chapter only)
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Summary: Part 2 of Say It's Possible - House gets more involved.
Say It’s Possible (2/3)
Month six, he decided happily as his t-shirt was ripped over his head, was quickly shaping up to be the most fun month, pregnancy-wise. Not only had Lisa’s libido gone into hyperdrive, she ordered pizza or Chinese every single night and had suddenly developed an insatiable appetite for the most gory of horror movies.
He focused his attention back on her as she pushed him back into the pillows, straddling his waist and grinding against him. Another bonus to being her being incredibly horny? No foreplay. She leaned down to kiss him possessively and throatily murmured,
“You ready for me?”
Snaking her hand down his boxers, she twisted her hand around his length and cocked an eyebrow, “Not quite, huh?”
He felt his chest tighten as her hand clenched around him, squeezing and massaging tightly. He let his head drop into the pillows as she continued her ministrations, working him up to top speed. She licked her lips and eyed him with a fairly intimidating expression as she murmured,
“That’s more like it.”
She wiggled him out of his boxers and let her bare skin rest against his before shifting her position and sinking down on him. She moved over him, hands braced on either side of his shoulders to support herself, and he watched her swollen belly move over his body. Although he was reluctant to admit it, the added weight freaked him out a little so he refocused on her face and moved his hips in synch with hers, ignoring the looming flesh mountain between them.
She let out an incredibly unsexy noise and muttered, “So close....faster.”
He tried but he felt himself wilt slightly in her grasp, watching her belly contract as flutters of spasms pulsed through it. She urged him forward, grinding harder and he managed to get her off but she pulled away before he had a chance to finish. He tugged his boxers up quickly as she rolled away from him, suddenly feeling unfairly cheated out of sex and hoping she wouldn’t notice his “lingering problem”.
She draped her arm over her bare belly and chuckled, “It’s always awake afterwards.”
House reached over and rested a large hand over her belly button, feeling the baby move and flip beneath his palm. He inched closer to get a better view and she suddenly gazed up at him with a frightening smirk.
“What?” He demanded, attempting to hide his uneasiness.
“Did you,” She trailed off before chuckling, “Finish?”
Too late, he realized that his length had been pressed up against her knee as he’d drawn himself closer. He felt his body grow warm as she let her gaze and fingertips drop down to the front of his boxers.
“Well, that isn’t fair is it?” She purred throatily, “If you get me off it’s only right that I get you off in return.”
He let out a low moan as her long slender fingers curled around him once more, clearly intent on returning the favour. He almost chuckled, indeed, there were no words to describe how much he loved the sixth month.
- - -
He slid out from Cuddy’s death grasp and tugged a pair of sweats out of her top drawer (now officially his), sliding them over his aching thigh. He massaged the scar and winced, as much as he loved their evening escapades they weren’t kind on his leg and his vicodin intake had suddenly increased dramatically. He sank down on the bed and snatched his cane from the floor, poking the still slumbering Cuddy.
She let out an angry moan and growled, “Go away.”
“I’m hungry.” He whined.
He poked her again when she didn’t reply and was immediately kicked hard in the rear as she snarled,
“Deal with it.”
He let out a long suffering sigh but wandered down to the kitchen himself and fixed a bowl of cereal, turning on the T.V. and watching some blonde bimbo debate her child’s paternity on the early morning self help show.
She wandered down an hour later, still sleepily rubbing at her eyes, and sat down next to him, snatching for his box of cereal. He immediately grabbed it out of her reach and shook his head,
“I don’t think so.”
“Give me the cereal, now.” She commanded.
He shook his head daringly and retorted, “Deal with it.”
“Give me the damn cereal or you can go back to your place tonight.” She said in a low hiss, eyes narrowing.
He reluctantly handed over the cereal, unwilling to have to deal with her wrath this early in the morning.
“I have an OB appointment today at noon.”
“Ok.”
“Are you coming?”
“Do you want me to come?”
“I don’t care.”
“Fine, I’ll be there.”
She smiled faintly, “Good.”
She pushed herself away from the table and said, “Oh, wait. There’s something I want to show you.”
“Fine.”
He tilted his head to catch a glimpse of her now incredibly plump behind as she walked down the hallway, his lips curling into a grin. Although the belly freaked him out a little he had no problem with the added fullness to her breasts and rear.
He was immersed in daydreams when she stepped back into the kitchen and self consciously asked,
“What do you think?”
She was sporting an eggplant purple top with stretchy maternity bottoms. He tilted his head and regarded her with a mock scrutinous look, all sexy thoughts tossed out the window,
“Well, I think that top makes you look like Barney. The ass helps - Although, I thought you’d be done adding weight to your ass by now.”
Her eyes were bright with tears and anger as she tore the top off and threw it at him. He couldn’t resist as he quipped,
“No, seriously, at least we know the kid’ll love you.”
She refused to speak to him for the rest of the morning, resulting in an incredibly awkward drive to work, and merely snarled in a less than convincing tone,
“You’re still welcome at noon.”
He took this to mean that if he showed up at the doctor’s office as he had promised, she would not be standing behind the door with the speculum in hand, ready to hog tie him and do a little examining of her own.
---
He spent the morning perfecting the art of balancing his abnormally large tennis ball on his cane and deflecting mundane cases. As the numbers flashed 11:50 he rose from his chair and limped away from his bewildered team,
“Gotta go, don’t wait up.”
He met Lisa outside of the office and dropped down into the seat next to her, ignoring her frosty glare. It was a mere ten minutes before they were asked in and Cuddy stripped down to her lingerie, tugging the familiar blue gown over her shoulders. This time it barely concealed her expanding form, leaving a large gap in the back. He was tempted to make a comment but bit his tongue, noticing that the speculum was well within her reach.
“Good afternoon.” The doctor greeted as she entered, now long accustomed to having House in the room.
“How’re we doing?” She asked as she set up the ultrasound machine.
Cuddy shrugged, “Some nausea and dizziness, I’ve been exhausted lately. My feet and ankles are swollen and I have constant back pain - I haven’t slept normally for a week and my sex drive seems to have gone through the roof.”
“So in other words, perfectly normal.” Dr. Symes said with a grin.
She did a complete exam, ignoring House’s witty comments (or so he thought), before moving on to the ultrasound. He looked up as the baby’s heartbeat resonated through the room and watched the baby wriggle underneath the pressure of the transducer. He saw the conflict in Cuddy’s eyes as she hesitantly asked,
“Can you tell whether it’s a boy or a girl?”
Dr. Symes readjusted the setting and shifted the grey wand lower on Cuddy’s abdomen before nodding,
“Did you want to know the sex?”
He was surprised when Cuddy looked up to him for his opinion (although her eyes clearly informed him that if he defied her she would lop his head off and cook it for dinner), “It’s your kid.”
She nodded, “I want to know.”
“As far as I can tell it’s a little girl.”
He watched as Cuddy chewed her lower lip, eyes filling with excited tears, “A daughter? I’m having a girl? Really?”
Dr. Symes chuckled, “As far as I can tell - I stress that part because I don’t want you to hunt me down when I pull out a boy and you’ve already painted the nursery bright pink.”
House crinkled his nose in disgust, “Trust me woman, it won’t be pink.”
They both ignored him, much to his disappointment - he was getting kind of sick of this being ignored business, and Cuddy reached down to wipe the blue gel from her skin. Dr. Symes went over a few last minute instructions before asking them to come back a month later. They set up an appointment before leaving her office and as they stepped out Cuddy reluctantly smiled in his direction,
“I’m having a girl.”
“Don’t you dare stop by that baby store on the way home to pick up something pink.” He deadpanned.
By her flush he knew that was exactly what she had been planning on doing, but she shook her head, “Of course not.”
He snorted as he walked away, knowing that if he looked in her briefcase when she got home there would be a soft pink onesie tucked inside, it was inevitable.
---
He looked up as the door slammed, a briefcase hit the floor and he heard her heels click quickly along the hardwood floor as she ran for the bathroom. Confused, he did a quick mental calculation and assured himself that they were actually in month six before going to the kitchen to get a wet cloth, water and gravol.
“I thought morning sickness was over now.” He called, knocking on the door gently.
“Dot borning sickness.” Came her muffled reply from behind the door.
“Open the door.”
She tugged it open and it took him a moment to process what he was seeing, there were bright red spots of blood staining her silk blouse and she was leaning forward with a handful of Kleenex pressed over her nose.
“Nosebleed?”
She nodded before sitting down on the toilet seat and moving her other hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.
“Is that normal?”
She nodded again.
“Do you need anything?”
She shook her head and he hovered awkwardly in the doorway, still clutching the dripping washcloth and pills.
“Cad you get be bore Kleenex?” She asked.
He nodded, eager to have something to do, and hurried to the kitchen to grab a fresh box. It took a good ten minutes to staunch the flow and when she stood up she wobbled slightly, dizzy from staying in the same position and having all the blood from her head drained through her nose, or so she said. When she presented House with this explanation he merely snorted in amusement before guiding her to the bedroom and instructing her to sit.
She did willingly and House noted that she did look rather pale,
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine.” She insisted.
“Ok.” He hesitated before adding, “I thought of a baby name today.”
“Really?” She asked, stunned.
“Yep.”
“Well, let’s hear it then.”
“Halen.”
“Helen? Or Haley?” Cuddy asked, determined to believe that she had simply heard him wrong.
“No, Halen.”
“As in...”
“Van.Halen.” He punctuated, rolling his eyes at her.
“You want to name my daughter Halen!?”
“It’s good.”
“Really, it’s not.” She stated simply, quickly eliminating it as a possibility.
“Well, what do you want to name it?”
“Her,” She corrected before suggesting, “Sara?”
He rolled his eyes, “How original, what about Violet?”
She tried to hide her shock as he suggested a fairly pretty girl’s name, “Violet? I like it.”
She reached for a pen and pad of paper from a nearby table and jotted it down, “Elizabeth?”
“Nah...” He muttered.
“Amelia?”
He shrugged, “I guess.”
“Hang on.” She muttered, pushing herself up off the bed and shuffling to the bookshelf. She returned moments later with a blue and white baby names book and began thumbing through it.
“Adeline?”
“Too old fashioned.”
“Charlotte?”
“I like Charlotte.” He said gruffly, hardly believing he was actually having this conversation.
“Happy?”
“What?”
“As a name.” She clarified.
He rolled his eyes, “It does not say that.”
“It does!” She insisted, waving the book in front of his nose.
He snatched it from her grip and shook his head in disbelief as he found she’d been telling the truth. He continued to look through it and began listing off names.
“Alice?”
“No.”
“Catherine?”
“Not a fan of Katie - too many of them.”
“Reagan?”
“Mmm.” She shrugged noncommittally but jotted it down anyways.
“Olivia?”
She nodded and jotted it down.
“Priscilla?”
She merely glared at him and he grinned, flipping backwards to the beginning,
“ Arianna?”
“Harper?”
She added the two to the list and nodded. House, quickly losing interest in the conversation flipped to the back of the book and suggested Xena before pitching the book into the corner,
“I’m bored.”
She rolled her eyes and set the pad of paper down next to her, “Fine, we’ll do this later.”
She hesitated before revealing, “I started the baby’s room this week.”
“Great.” He muttered noncommittally, this was clearly going to be another conversation he didn’t really want to be involved in.
“I bought paint - it’s called Aspiration.”
“Let me guess, pink?”
She shook her head, “Blue.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Blue?”
“I’m a girl, I like blue.”
The corners of his lips turned up in a smile and she chuckled slightly, aware that he didn’t want the child who carried half of his DNA to be immersed in a world of pink and purple.
She ran her hands over her belly and rested them just over her protruding belly button, feeling her daughter move lazily beneath her skin. House looked at her awkwardly for a moment before asking,
“You really feel like her mother already?”
She nodded, rubbing small circles over her abdomen, “Yeah, I do. I feel like she’s mine.”
”Oh.”
He absentmindedly reached for one of her legs, turning her so that she had both of them draped over his body, and began to massage gently. She stared at him for a few moments in stunned silence; she wasn’t used to these random moments of intimacy. As his strong hands eased away the pain in her muscles she relaxed and reclined against the pillows, moaning quietly. Several minutes later he looked up and found her snoozing quietly. Smiling, he shook her awake gingerly and helped her ease out of her soiled work clothes and into a pair of maternity pajamas, his fingers brushing against the base of her belly as he tied a bow at the front of her pants.
She curled up beneath the covers, scooting backwards until her back was pressed against him and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. He slid a hand over her hip and rested his palm on her thinly stretched skin. He waited until she was nearly asleep to rest his head in the crook of her shoulder and whisper, apologetically,
“The purple shirt really did look nice on you.”
She didn’t open her eyes but pursed her lips and pushed her foot out, giving him a firm kick in the shin. He smirked and rubbed a small circle on her abdomen,
“Night Cuddy.”