Title: Song for an Autumn Night
Author: Ellie
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Through "Que Sera Sera"
Summary: "More than heard, she felt the warm exhalations of
House, singing so quietly into her hair that the sounds almost
vanished before it crossed the inches to her ear."
Author’s Notes: I’ve given up trying to figure out the calendar
the writers are working from. Title is somewhat inspired by
Gordon Lightfoot’s "Song for a Winter’s Night."

****

The sky had been a heavy, ominous gray all afternoon, and as
she’d driven home, it had warmed to a softly glowing pink that
hinted at an early first snowfall. Waking now, in the early hours
of morning, it wasn’t the muffled silence of snowfall she heard,
but the soft ping of sleet against the window.

There was something else, too, just on the edge of her hearing.
More than heard, she felt the warm exhalations of House, singing
so quietly into her hair that the sound almost vanished before it
crossed the inches to her ear. His left hand, wrapped around her,
picked out chords on her wrist, and his right played the melody
on her hip.

She wasn’t pregnant and he had a litany of police charges
looming over him, but tonight, this would have to be enough.
Keeping her eyes closed, she just savored being here listening to
him and the weather while snuggled warm under his long body
and piles of downy blankets.

"I think you’ve got a few too many ‘nah nah nah nah’s in
there."

His fingers tightened on her hip, and pulled her infinitesimally
closer, letting her feel him, half-aroused, against her. "The last
half is nothing but nah nah nah nah nah. It can go on forever."

"You’ll look crazier than normal shuffling down the hall,
muttering that to yourself at work tomorrow." She shifted back,
enjoying the hitch in his breathing as she pressed against him.

"Ah, but the beauty—" his lips brushed the nape of her neck
"—is that it can also stop any time."

"Oh?" She pulled away, feeling the cool air of the room slip in
against her back. "You want to stop?"

Trapped by his hands, she hadn’t gone far, and he easily pulled
her back to him. "Oh no. That’s not what I said." The hand
on her hip pulled her up a bit, as the other traced slowly down
her abdomen, deftly slipped between her thighs.

Now, she could feel him fully aroused behind her, and as his
fingers found their way to her clitoris, she quickly joined him.
Twisting her hips just a bit, his fingers drifted lower, tracing her
entrance, taunting. "Tease," she mumbled breathily.

"No one I love teasing more," he said, slipping one digit into
her as she sighed.

She chose not to think about that statement too closely. Never
would she hold him to the things he said in bed. Clenching
around his finger, she said, "I don’t think this is what either of
us really want."

In a delicate bit of maneuvering, his hand left her feeling deprived
for just a moment before shifting them both slightly and slipping
into her from behind. He moved slowly at first, and she could
feel the drag of his scarred thigh against the back of hers.
Reaching back, her hand traced along it briefly before he caught
it with his own, tugging them both back down between her legs.
The tangle of fingers, stroking just so, and him driving into her a
little faster, a little deeper, hitting just the spot, was steadily
driving her to the edge.

House’s breath was hot, the panting waves blowing past her ear.
It took her a minute to realize that it wasn’t just his ragged
exhalations, but a steady "nah nah nah nah nah" in rhythm to
his thrusts. Then she laughed, and it was no stunning explosion,
but a warm pleasure that radiated through her in just the right
way.

It was the laughter that did him in, too, she knew. The way her
muscles contracted, the way her laugh never failed to affect him.
Neither of them laughed enough, and it made things all the
sweeter now.

Minutes later, exposed skin cooling in the air and conjoined skin
starting to stick together, Cuddy slipped from the bed, quickly
traversing the cool floor to the bathroom and back. When she
settled back against him, she asked, "How did the appointment
go?"

A rumbling sigh escaped the chest under her ear, and she worried
she might get no response from him. "His initial advice was to
take a plea bargain. I refused, and agreed to pay him a small
fortune to represent me."

Her arms around him tightening, she could feel him respond in
kind as she said, "This is just going to get uglier."

"Don’t worry about it."

"Somebody has to. You aren’t."

"That’s what I’m paying the lawyer to do. You just worry about
little Jude there." He patted her abdomen.

"Oh, absolutely not! I’m not explaining that name to anyone."

He laughed then, relaxed and warm against her, and she felt
herself drifting back to sleep. She wasn’t pregnant but he
wasn’t in jail, and that would have to be enough tonight.

****
End
****