For: diesanften
Written for: diesanften
Written by: bardicraven
Rating: PG-13
Title: The Blue & the A-Maized
They were opposites in every way. And from the time he had first seen her walking down the corridors of University Hospital, Dr Gregory House become hopelessly fascinated with the beautiful young medical student.
She was perky and enthusiastic, still wide-eyed and full of wonder, in stark contrast to his own world-weary cynicism. She had faith in the world around her. He had faith in his own intellect and not much else.
She was thrilled to have been accepted at such a prestigious university, while he was relieved and a little surprised to be taking his residency anywhere at all, after the debacle at Johns-Hopkins that had so nearly ended his career before it had even begun.
He found reasons to trail after her and her little group of fellow students. When he couldn't find reasons, he invented them. In this, his bullheaded ignoring of rules that he felt were stupid or otherwise did not apply to him was finally an advantage, and he took full advantage of it
“Never stop striving to be the best!“ Surprised he'd had the balls to say it. But his personal sense of perfection would not let him stay out of the conversation between Cuddy and her friends that day when said conversation had begun to take a dangerous dip towards an encouragement of mediocrity. She'd looked up at his sharp words, cool grey eyes staring at him from beneath masses of black hair straining to free themselves from their on-duty confinement, but she hadn't seemed particularly offended by his words.
Although if there were one thing he'd learned about women over the years, from his mother on, it wast that you never knew for sure what they were thinking or feeling at any given moment. And woe befell the man who thought he knew. Every single time.
But in this case, as his trailing began to be subtly, yet definitely reciprocated, with a bump of her wondrous ass that went on forever (in the very best of ways), or a saucy shake of her hair, he was fairly sure he was interpreting the situation correctly, and that his attentions were not entirely unwelcome.
His theory was proven correct the day the little minx called to him across the hallway.
“Dr House!”
He stopped. Turned, waited for her to catch up, on quizzically raised eyebrow the only sign that he was at all interested in what was about to take place.
“I thought that, instead of us continuing to chase each other all over campus, diverting though that's been, we might want to try getting together for a meal sometime.”
After that announcement, Cuddy stood back, waiting for a response. And waiting. And waiting. “Well?” she finally asked impatiently.
“Well what?” Blue-eyed innocence.
“Do you think dinner is a good idea?”
“Oh, that. Sure. How about Blimpy Burger Friday night?”
She looked at him for a moment like he'd grown two heads, then to his shock got a huge grin on her face and said “Sure. Pick me up at eight.”
***********
They were actually here. Here in the land of wooden booths, where calories and cholesterol were king. Here. In hamburger heaven itself. Blimpy's was famous throughout the land for their burgers and the extravagant (and specific) ways in which one could and must order them.
House watched as Cuddy sashayed over to the cooler and grabbed herself a soda before taking her place in line. The way she bent over to grab her tray in that short scrap of material that the extremely optimistic might have called a skirt was really quite wonderful.
“Hey, you!” House was abruptly thrown back out of his fantasies. “You can look at her ass anytime. You want to order now?”
Unfazed, he snapped back his order. “Fries. Triple. Kaiser.” Then he went back to admiring Cuddy's backside as it danced through the line in front of him. He noticed that she ordered both onion rings and grilled onions for her burger. Interesting. Either she wasn't interested in anything beyond sharing a gazillion calories with him or it showed a refreshing dedication to her own desires. He looked forward to discovering which.
Once safely at their booth, House gave his fantasies free rein. A bit of grilled onion being sucked in brought other, more delightful images to House's mind, and the sight of the meat disappearing down her throat led inevitably to thoughts of other things.
And he could swear, with the (very) small part of his mind still allotted to rational thought, that she was doing it deliberately. When she deliberately sucked her pickle spear in and out of her mouth again and again, all the while looking at him with a saucy grin, just daring him to make something of it, he was sure.
“You always waste your talents on a pickle?” Just to see her reaction.
“No.” And another bite of hamburger went down that perfect throat.
He wasn't quite sure what to make of that, although his body certainly knew, and responded accordingly. He sternly told it to behave itself. Well, at least for a while, anyway. He wasn't into exhibitionism, though he wasn't entirely sure about his dining partner.
“So... how about some dessert?”
He was startled to hear the sound by his ear - when had she slipped over to his side of the booth? And more so when she took his head and gave him a kiss that left no doubts whatsoever about her intentions. Somewhere between the onions and the kiss, she'd obviously slipped in a breath mint, because her mouth tasted sweet and clean and simply amazing. Somewhere he found the presence of mind to kiss back.
“Works for me.”
The End
Written by: bardicraven
Rating: PG-13
Title: The Blue & the A-Maized
They were opposites in every way. And from the time he had first seen her walking down the corridors of University Hospital, Dr Gregory House become hopelessly fascinated with the beautiful young medical student.
She was perky and enthusiastic, still wide-eyed and full of wonder, in stark contrast to his own world-weary cynicism. She had faith in the world around her. He had faith in his own intellect and not much else.
She was thrilled to have been accepted at such a prestigious university, while he was relieved and a little surprised to be taking his residency anywhere at all, after the debacle at Johns-Hopkins that had so nearly ended his career before it had even begun.
He found reasons to trail after her and her little group of fellow students. When he couldn't find reasons, he invented them. In this, his bullheaded ignoring of rules that he felt were stupid or otherwise did not apply to him was finally an advantage, and he took full advantage of it
“Never stop striving to be the best!“ Surprised he'd had the balls to say it. But his personal sense of perfection would not let him stay out of the conversation between Cuddy and her friends that day when said conversation had begun to take a dangerous dip towards an encouragement of mediocrity. She'd looked up at his sharp words, cool grey eyes staring at him from beneath masses of black hair straining to free themselves from their on-duty confinement, but she hadn't seemed particularly offended by his words.
Although if there were one thing he'd learned about women over the years, from his mother on, it wast that you never knew for sure what they were thinking or feeling at any given moment. And woe befell the man who thought he knew. Every single time.
But in this case, as his trailing began to be subtly, yet definitely reciprocated, with a bump of her wondrous ass that went on forever (in the very best of ways), or a saucy shake of her hair, he was fairly sure he was interpreting the situation correctly, and that his attentions were not entirely unwelcome.
His theory was proven correct the day the little minx called to him across the hallway.
“Dr House!”
He stopped. Turned, waited for her to catch up, on quizzically raised eyebrow the only sign that he was at all interested in what was about to take place.
“I thought that, instead of us continuing to chase each other all over campus, diverting though that's been, we might want to try getting together for a meal sometime.”
After that announcement, Cuddy stood back, waiting for a response. And waiting. And waiting. “Well?” she finally asked impatiently.
“Well what?” Blue-eyed innocence.
“Do you think dinner is a good idea?”
“Oh, that. Sure. How about Blimpy Burger Friday night?”
She looked at him for a moment like he'd grown two heads, then to his shock got a huge grin on her face and said “Sure. Pick me up at eight.”
***********
They were actually here. Here in the land of wooden booths, where calories and cholesterol were king. Here. In hamburger heaven itself. Blimpy's was famous throughout the land for their burgers and the extravagant (and specific) ways in which one could and must order them.
House watched as Cuddy sashayed over to the cooler and grabbed herself a soda before taking her place in line. The way she bent over to grab her tray in that short scrap of material that the extremely optimistic might have called a skirt was really quite wonderful.
“Hey, you!” House was abruptly thrown back out of his fantasies. “You can look at her ass anytime. You want to order now?”
Unfazed, he snapped back his order. “Fries. Triple. Kaiser.” Then he went back to admiring Cuddy's backside as it danced through the line in front of him. He noticed that she ordered both onion rings and grilled onions for her burger. Interesting. Either she wasn't interested in anything beyond sharing a gazillion calories with him or it showed a refreshing dedication to her own desires. He looked forward to discovering which.
Once safely at their booth, House gave his fantasies free rein. A bit of grilled onion being sucked in brought other, more delightful images to House's mind, and the sight of the meat disappearing down her throat led inevitably to thoughts of other things.
And he could swear, with the (very) small part of his mind still allotted to rational thought, that she was doing it deliberately. When she deliberately sucked her pickle spear in and out of her mouth again and again, all the while looking at him with a saucy grin, just daring him to make something of it, he was sure.
“You always waste your talents on a pickle?” Just to see her reaction.
“No.” And another bite of hamburger went down that perfect throat.
He wasn't quite sure what to make of that, although his body certainly knew, and responded accordingly. He sternly told it to behave itself. Well, at least for a while, anyway. He wasn't into exhibitionism, though he wasn't entirely sure about his dining partner.
“So... how about some dessert?”
He was startled to hear the sound by his ear - when had she slipped over to his side of the booth? And more so when she took his head and gave him a kiss that left no doubts whatsoever about her intentions. Somewhere between the onions and the kiss, she'd obviously slipped in a breath mint, because her mouth tasted sweet and clean and simply amazing. Somewhere he found the presence of mind to kiss back.
“Works for me.”
The End